#it takes a little time to build up but the opening chapters are important for the later contrast! I’ve learned to appreciate them more now

[reallypleasanttree]

Snippet for "Elusive Dream" Chapter 4. 😭 They're so cute, I can't

Mitsuri and Obanai made their way to the Serpent Hashira Estate. His house was in the center with traditional Meiji era architecture. It was older than her estate, which had western style elements. There were a few other buildings including the training shed and behind the house was a bathhouse. Kohaku was in the sling, absorbing every building they passed. 

Obanai opened the front door. His staff was minimal compared to hers. He mostly kept the kakushi around for cleaning and maintaining his property. Obanai turned on the front light, illuminating the entryway and living room just beyond it. 

Inside the house, the furniture was sparse and made from simple materials. There was nothing opulent. The walls were plain white with no decorations. Given what he told her of his family and their riches, his house was the antithesis of it. 

“I sent a letter to my head attendant, Fushi, to prepare our rooms,” Obanai said. He took off his shoes and slipped on house shoes.  “I asked him to grab extra clothes and shoes for you and Kohaku. I wasn’t sure how long it would take for the rest of your belongings to come in,” Obanai explained, gesturing to the pair of house shoes beside his. 

They were marked by the pink embellishments. Mitsuri smiled as she replaced the traveling shoes for uwabaki. She should not be surprised based on his attention to detail. By the time she glanced up, Obanai removed his bandages and was watching Kohaku and her. There was something about the way he studied them that made her wonder if she had something on her face. 

“Is something wrong?” She asked and touched her face self consciously. He shook his head. 

“No,” he answered. “I just thought I would never see you at my estate again. I’ve never thought of my estate as home before now.” Her face heated at his earnest words, but she’d felt the same just a little while ago. Obanai and Kohaku were her home. 

“Let’s go to bed.” Obanai held out his hand to help her up the one step to the landing. She took it and held Kohaku’s back to support him in the sling. Their son babbled and reached for Obanai. 

“You can have him in a second,” Mitsuri said as Obanai led her down the hall to their bedroom. He slid the door open. One large futon was placed in the middle of the room. He let go of her hand and pointed to a small futon set beside the larger one. 

“I wasn’t sure if Kohaku would want his own or not,” Obanai admitted and glanced sideways. “Not that he can tell us.” 

“It’s perfect,” Mitsuri said as she readjusted the sling to pull Kohaku out of it. Kohaku’s large eyes were trained on his father and made grabbing motions. “He wants you,” Mitsuri laughed. Obanai waited no time in taking Kohaku and held him to his chest. Kohaku babbled as if he was trying to converse. Mitsuri covered her mouth and her lips pulled back into a smile. 

“Does he need something?” Obanai asked without looking at her. 

“He’s trying to talk to you,” Mitsuri answered. “At seven months, babies are learning how to make sounds that eventually turn into words. My siblings were the same way,” she added. Obanai confessed he never spent time with babies or children, so he didn’t have the experience or knowledge she did. He nodded in acceptance.

“I got you something, Kohaku,” Obanai said and took him over to the smaller futon. He crouched down and turned Kohaku, so he could see it. “This is yours. You can sleep with us or on this. It’ll be your choice.” 

Mitsuri smiled wider, seeing the two most important people in her life as simply existing. Obanai tried to set Kohaku down on the futon, but their son tightly grasped onto Obanai’s hands, not wanting to be separated from his father. Kohaku’s eyes narrowed and made a distressed noise. Mitsuri walked up to them. 

“He wants you to keep holding him,” Mitsuri said as she leaned down.

[assim-eu-sou]

Hard to believe it has now been 5 months since I published the first chapter of my first multi-chapter fic ever, The Planets, Op. 32 (aka Planets). Coincidentally, it has arrived at 200 hits! I never thought that something as niche as this would be enjoyed by more than a couple of people at the most, but the support I’ve had in writing this has meant so much. It’s hard to believe there is now only one chapter left… I’m not sure when it will arrive, but I hope it will be the perfect ending. String quartet Vilu/Ludmi/Naty/León you will always be famous…

[hypnagogics]

how soon is now? | part two

READ THIS FIRST 🇵🇸

previous chapter. series masterlist.

♡: hallway crush!ellie x uni student!reader

☆: the long-awaited second part of this godforsaken fic (lawd she’s given me trouble). appreciate y'all's patience as always, i'm a chronic procrastinator and perfectionist but what can i do. after this, i'm gonna take a break from this series. not saying i'll never write more, but wanna work on some other stuff for a while. thank you for reading! pretty please don’t hate me or show up at my house waving torches and pitchforks for this ending ok luv u gays in my phone. + a big thank you to @total-dxmure for helping me w/ some ideas for the last little bit!

♧:5.7k word count (lawd)

◇: sfw! miscommunication (sawry). fluffy moments, angst lowkey…both of yall cry at one point or another, reader has anxiety in the last chunk. modern au but joel isn’t alive in this, and they discuss it. maybe some rushed points here and there, i’m not really the proudest of this but needed to finish it anyway. potentially horrendous pacing but ok i think that’s all? idfk i may give y’all a little epilogue eventually, but don't dwell on it for the time being!

4 months later 

Your friendship with Ellie was evolving wonderfully. You two were studying together frequently, and both your grades in the ghastly astrophysics class increased exponentially. Although that wasn't the only thing that was increasing at a rate too fast to fathom. Your crush on her. It was ripping you apart like wildfire, Ellie was proving herself to be such a wonderful person inside and out, and you were slowly but surely nearing your limit of how much it could build before you burst. A movie spin off of the Savage Starlight series had come to streaming, and Ellie had invited you to her place for a movie night so you two could watch it and discuss if it was a faithful entry in your beloved series or not. 

Dressed in some comfortable pjs and armed with snacks of all kinds, your favorites as well as hers, the time had come and you were at her door. You straighten your posture and put your hair back in place, must look presentable, then knock, knock, knock.

You could hear some faint shuffling behind the door, then a few thudding steps until she opened it for you. She was dressed in an old, worn Nirvana tee, and red checkered pajama pants, damn she looked good, even when she was dressed with less effort than usual. 

Ellie looked so pleased to see you, leaning on the doorframe. Why did she have to look so good all the time? “Hi! I’m so glad you came, ooh this is gonna be so fun.” She invited you in and took the snacks from your arms and placed them inside her room. “Oh yeah, I also put up some decor too so we can get into the Savage Starlight spirit.” Her eyes were wide and twinkling and when she stepped aside to let you see, she really had made her room so welcoming and comfortable.  

The lights were all off save for LEDs around the room’s perimeter set to a dreamy violet hue, sparkly fairy lights draped around the frame of her bed which was set up so cozily. Her laptop propped up on a pillow, the sheets arranged in a nest-like formation with two spaces for each of you. She even had a few dinosaur stuffed animals placed in a row so they could watch too.

You were so flattered she'd do that and make the atmosphere so nice for the two of you, you could just tackle her in a hug and never let go.

The thing is you were scared she'd perceive that as weird and you didn't feel like dying of embarrassment, not today at the very least. Save that for another day, maybe. Oh, how you wanted to squeeze her so bad. Your imagination had to do for now. 

She was standing there so proud of how she arranged her room into a mini theater, and you beamed at her, silently thanking her for making it so dim so she couldn't see your flustered expression in full.

“Ellie this is amazing!!” “You like it?!? These stupid lights kept on falling off but since this is an important occasion for us both I didn't give up. All for our love, Daniela.” She manipulated her voice and waved in the air with two fists, closed her eyes and put her hand over her heart, just being as dorky as ever.

Oh gosh, hopefully it wasn't going to be awkward. Sure, the two of you had grown to be great friends, but were you that close to be just, relaxing in her bed together? As long as your imagination didn't run too wild and you didn't overthink anything, it was going to be a fun time. Just two pals watching their favorite series, nothing more, nothing less.

She threw herself in the mess of comforters with a grunt, and saw you were hesitating. She patted the empty space next to her so you'd join her and the movie night could begin. “C’mere, don't be shy.” Well, no shit you were going to be shy. Suck it up. 

You crawled in next to her, unable to look her in the eyes, while she got everything ready and rubbed her hands together excitedly. “Man, if they do our girl dirty, we’re gonna have to give someone a knuckle sandwich, you with me?” Her jokes and easy going vibes always made her so fun to be around, but unfortunately for you, you fell harder for her every time. “Yeah, Ellie. A knuckle sandwich for all of them.” You retorted with a chuckle. Once both of you were settled, she pressed play and so it began.

As the movie played, the two of you laughed and debated every plot twist, cursing the directors for not portraying your queen Daniela how she deserves, and snacked on candy until your stomachs hurt. It was going so well, the friendly hang out both of you needed after so many responsibilities in life. An escape. Occasionally sneaking peeks Ellie’s way, she was just so marvelously pretty. The shadows dancing on her features, illuminating her side profile perfectly, her long eyelashes and button nose, who wouldn't get lost in admiring her?

Of course you could never fully relax around her, or forget the crush no matter how hard you tried to push it down and just be friends. Every time she shifted next to you in the bed you felt your heart seize and the butterflies in your stomach turn into hornets. At this rate, they were going to turn into whole birds for fuck’s sake.

Nearing the end of the movie, the two of you were so invested, so captivated in the events, totally spellbound.

But then the film took a more emotional turn that wasn't in the comics. Daniela and her father had an absolutely vicious argument which left the two of you speechless watching it, which luckily got quickly resolved right after the two characters had a near-death experience together.

You weren't one to get emotional over silly, trivial things like fiction, but the way they showed this entire sequence was nothing short of heart-wrenching. You snatched up one of Ellie's patterned pillows and hugged it tightly to your chest, because cuddling her would have been much too bold for the likes of you. But what you’d give to do that instead.

Seems you were not the only one touched by the scene, as you began to hear some light sniffling from next to you. Looking over at Ellie made your heart break further into a million pieces. She looked lost in thought with thin lines of tears streaming down her plump, freckled cheeks. 

You froze for a moment, not knowing the limits of your relationship with her and how you could comfort her best. So you cleared your throat and mumbled, “That was so sad…” You watched as she avoided your gaze and wiped at her face with the collar of her t-shirt, “Yeah, this kind of stuff hits me, feels a little personal y’know.” She has never opened up to you about her struggles before, in the short time you’ve known and gotten close with Ellie, it always seemed like she was there to help you out, not the other way around. This could be your chance to show her that you are there for her as well, and that she can always count on you.

Being curious but at the same time not wishing to pry too much into her private affairs, you quietly asked with the most gentle tone of voice you could muster,” You don’t have to, but I’m here if you ever wanna talk about it, Ellie.” You watched her out of the corner of your eye, anticipating however she reacts.

She stayed quiet for a beat before sighing deeply, and whispered, “We were having a fun time, I really don't wanna be a burden.” Her voice quivered, heavy with emotion, what could possibly be troubling her this much? You wanted to take all her pain and bear it yourself, she didn't deserve any sort of misfortune ever.

“You can tell me, don’t worry about anything, okay? I just want you to be all good.” You were comforting her so smoothly, putting her needs and well-being first as if it was always second nature, as if you two have known each other many lifetimes over, two souls meant to float together through the journey of life. Well okay, that was probably a bit much.

There were a few more seconds of silence as you let the question ring in the air, not wanting to press and jeopardize your cherished friendship with her. 

You continue observing her, almost seeing the gears turning in her mind, the scales of reason tipping to one side then another, as she contemplates whether it’s worth spilling. Eventually, she does.

She roughly rubs her face then pauses the film playing on her laptop, sighs and huffs, before beginning to speak her story, all while looking away from you.

“Okay I don’t like to talk about this kind of stuff, but I trust you. A whole lot.” Your heart fluttered and face heated up at her comment, but you ignored it because there was something much more important on the table now. She continues, speaking quietly but quickly to get it over with. 

“So, when I was a kid, I was an orphan and to be honest I don’t really remember my early childhood much at all, but when I was 14 my adoptive dad, Joel, took me in. And it’s been just us since then.” She stops to take a breath, then resumes reluctantly. “And well, we’ve had a pretty rocky relationship for a good chunk of these years, I never knew how to express my gratitude to him, y’know, for basically saving my life, numerous times at that. He was always my rock, and I appreciate him every day. He taught me so many things, and I don’t know what I would’ve done if he hadn’t come around. I was pretty hard to deal with back then.” She reminisces with an exhale of air, and you see her eyes refill with tears. “But I’m really bad at expressing that, and will kinda, lash out I guess when I’m met with kindness or tricky situations.” 

You nod, listening patiently, and place your hand on her shoulder ever so gently, as a result making her raise her head to give you a small smile. 

Ellie chuckled deeply, it almost sounded forced, then started to slowly wrap up her story. “And it seems that scene kinda hit me, because the wounds are still raw, or whatever.” 

She sniffles again but doesn't respond, so you delicately inquire, “What do you mean?”

“He died last year.” Oof.

“Oh my, Ellie, I’m so sorry, are you-” She interrupts your condolences. “No need for that, I’m fine. Well, taking it day by day y’know. In the beginning it was really tough, I was angry at everything but most at myself for being such a jerk, and now I can't turn back time and tell him all I wanted to.” While you take a moment to think about what to say, she hums to herself and remarks, “That actually felt good to get off my chest, I haven't told anyone about it.” She lowers her voice so it’s barely a whisper. “Didn't have who to tell.”

“Sure you're okay? I'm always here for you.” You find your voice back to soothe her some more, to which she smiles at you again, only this time it actually seems genuine. There's definitely a lot of pain behind it, but the relief that she doesn't have to deal with the burden alone was evident on her face. 

“Yeah, thanks. I guess I hadn’t processed anything, and that part of the movie made it all come out, damn I hate emotions sometimes. But I appreciate you being here for me. You're really easy to talk to, and I feel better now.” 

And you would've never in a trillion years anticipated what her next move was going to be, you were so caught off guard, the realization lagged and it didn't immediately register. 

She moved to sit on her knees in front of you, then threw her arms around your torso in a tight embrace. She hugged you. Clutched you so firmly against her own body, her strong hands landing in the middle of your back, where she rubbed in a circle. She smelled so nice, and was as warm as one of her heated stuffed animals. 

Due to the surprising nature of the motion you let out a dumbfounded gasp, then returned the hug allowing yourself to rest your head on her shoulder. You wanted to stay like this forever, until the end of time, it felt nicer than you could've ever imagined.

The thought crossed your mind that she could feel the buzz pulsating through your body, you swore your heart was slamming against your ribcage so hard it was going to grow wings and simply fly right out of your chest, and join hands with hers.

While you were occupied with the way she felt against you, so close like this, chest against chest, and how your cheeks blazed with an inferno hotter than a thousand suns, you heard her grumble against your ear. “Not gonna make that same mistake again, and from now on, I'm gonna tell the people I appreciate just how much they matter to me.”

You were much too stunned to speak, but she wasn't. “So thank you again.” She finishes her little speech and pulls away first, but not before giving you one last big squeeze and letting out a noise of contentment as she does so, then shuffles over to her previous spot in the bed. 

Not taking notice of the way you were at a loss for words, or about to set the room on fire with how flustered her actions made you. Her obliviousness was a common theme, it seemed. She clears her throat and claps, grabbing some more candy for herself, then says happily, “We still got the rest of the movie left, then we can do whatever after. I really wanna know how this ends.”

Naturally, your head is spinning, but you were too caught up in your thoughts to continue paying attention to the movie as much as you were before.

You felt awful for her, yet somehow, felt as if your crush on her had quadrupled in size yet again. You saw through the guard she put up, she broke down those walls and opened up to you. You were honored she trusted you so much, and only hoped that would never change. That, coupled with how remarkably good hugs she gave, has led you to the realization that you were properly in love now, things had gotten real. This was trouble. You vowed to always be there for her for whatever she could ever need, you'd drop everything to teleport by her side if you could. 

Goodness, what were you possibly going to do now, instead of giving you the ick, or helping you with the task of getting rid of that stupid infatuation you were so plagued by, every experience felt like a deliberate ploy to just make you fall even further for her. You couldn't help but wonder just how much love a person can feel for someone, because it only continued to grow. 

A couple days later.

Sitting in the cozy campus cafe, you were revising all your coursework. It was giving you a massive headache, but the warm and hazy lighting aided it a touch. The walls had cute plastic vines crawling up and down, and even though there was chatter all around you from the other patrons, it wasn't a distraction and in fact acted as some sort of white noise, everyone was talking in a nicely muted tone, it all blended to create the perfect ambience. 

You waved down the waitress to get yet another cup of coffee, your third one of the night, that’s healthy, before trying to resume with your aggravating studies. 

To your dismay, you've used up all your brain power for the evening, and could not force yourself to continue no matter how hard you tried. Maybe a few moments of peaceful people-watching would get you back on track?

You sip on the hot drink, then lean back against the comfortable booth seat to begin scanning around.

In one corner directly on the opposite side of where you were sitting, there was an elderly couple. They looked so in love, dressed in matching outfits, feeding each other as they shared a dessert, holding hands and conversing with a hushed tone, nodding and looking into each other's twinkling eyes. So cute, you hoped that was going to be you in the future. 

Moving your line of sight to watch beside the couple, there was another student, their books and computer were scattered across the wooden table, piles of pens and pencil cases near falling over. They seemed to have fallen asleep, unmoving with their head laid tiredly across their crossed arms. The sight made you chuckle out of familiarity, you really felt for them, studies were hard. 

But then a sound caught your attention. A bright, husky giggle fought its way over the ambience, reminiscent of a certain someone. 

Your heart jumped, your ears perked up and you immediately became insistent on scouting her out among the patrons, this was a necessary mission. 

Feeling highly nervous and antsy, you try to drown out the noise and focus on where she could be, and quickly enough, you find her.

Ellie in her natural habitat, she was so mesmerizing. Sitting far away from you where you could get a good view and hear snippets of conversation if you focused hard enough, but not close enough where she would notice your shameless gawking. She was sitting with a group of a handful of her friends, who all appeared to be gossiping and laughing with each other, you couldn't tear your eyes away.

Her smile was gorgeous, and you knew that, but there was something about just being a spectator which fascinated you, you could stare at her all day. Her energy lit up the entire room, and made your heart race.

Snapping out of your trance and trying to not be so obvious with your staring, you tried to look occupied, tried reorganizing your notes while still keeping an ear out to listen. Occasionally glancing over as  well. Yes, it's true that eavesdropping is wrong, but you couldn't help yourself. Anyone would do the same, right?

The group's passionate discussion was making you extremely curious however, and you strained to hear what they were talking about. Among the muffled chatter, you heard a woman’s voice say the word crush, then an outburst of laughter, the loudest guffaw from Ellie herself. 

You felt the budding panic start to form in your chest momentarily, but swallowed the lump forming in your throat and took a sharp intake of breath to calm yourself at once. They could be talking about anything, there's no need to jump to conclusions just yet. Fumbling around your bag for your headphones to listen to some of the song recommendations Ellie had given you, you’re led to discover that they are, in fact, dead. Of course. 

Despite any and all wishes to stop eavesdropping on them and mind your own business and abide by what they say, ignorance is bliss, you simply couldn't. She was too damn captivating. Like a painting in a museum, like a statue at a town’s center, one that people stopped in their tracks to admire. 

The way her eyes sparkled and gleamed under the warm lighting, her cheeks tinted a faint rosy hue from the exertion of laughing so hard, her sweet smile. She was too perfect. God, you hated crushes, being infatuated with someone to this degree couldn't be healthy. But what could you do? Just look at this angel.

Fidgeting nervously while still being entranced by the group of friends, you heard a man’s voice say the words “there’s no way”, followed by Ellie howling even harder than she had the whole time you've been watching them, and punch him forcefully on the shoulder. 

The curiosity was going to swallow you whole, it was like a car crash you couldn't look away from. You felt your palms begin to tremble and sweat with worry, and anxious assumptions of all kinds running through your mind, were they talking about you? No, they couldn't be, you're just overthinking it. Relax, relax, relax.

You tried your hardest to control your breathing and soothe your spinning mind so you wouldn't spiral, until you heard something that absolutely shook you to your core.

The same woman from before, not Ellie, in a highly teasing tone of voice said your name.

You felt frozen, this couldn't be happening. All your worst fears were coming true at this very moment. You had to get out of there right away, this was too much to bear. Curiosity really did kill the cat didn't it, you wished you didn't comply with the morbid desire to know everything. 

Panic-stricken like a deer in headlights, near hyperventilating at this point, the final straw was all three of them erupting into laughter simultaneously, with Ellie through gasps, going "oh come onnnn”.

Yeah that was it. Hot tears started pricking your eyes and you vigorously blinked them away before they started streaming down your face, as if you needed to be humiliated even more. You felt sadded, torn apart, betrayed. Sick to your stomach too. This time, for once, you really thought you had something going for you. From your perspective, albeit through rose-colored glasses, you were convinced she was being genuine with you all this time. How could you not be? 

The late night study sessions, the air thick with tension, the conversations draped in a sleep-deprived haze, the walks to class together, the first fated interaction, the looks you two shared from across the huge lecture hall; the looks where you two just knew when to share a glance, was all of that fake? Was she leading you on purposefully because her friends thought it was funny, that you were a joke?

The tears threatened to spill and your stomach twisted painfully with the world-shattering realizations you were just served with, and you angrily shoved your belongings in your bag.

You were too caught up in your panicked frenzy to notice how disruptive you were actually being, your textbooks thumping and keychains jingling, but frankly didn't care enough to meet the numerous pairs of eyes observing your misfortune. Who could blame you, your whole world and everything you've known just crumbled before you. 

You slung your bag over your shoulder noisily as a choked sob made its way up your throat, then speed-walked out of that cafe. You were never going to be able to go in there again unfortunately, shame, their pastries were so good.

Right as you tried to step through the door it got stuck, because the universe was being really nice to you today, and as you tugged on it to get it to open, you heard the friends lower their voices, but you could still make out a jumble of hushed words sounding something like, “oh no, is that…” Great, great, fucking great. The only solution to this was to change your name and ride up to Seattle for goodness’ sake, maybe throw yourself into a volcano as well just because. 

Finally the door swung open after what felt like eons, and you stumbled outside into the chilly autumn air, feeling goosebumps spring up all over. Where you were going, you didn't really know. This cafe was new, so it would take some time to figure out navigation so you stood dumbly in the middle of the front lawn as you tried to orient yourself.

Once you think you've got it, you start your agonizing trek back to your little room, screaming inside of your head, until you're harshly yanked back mid-footstep by a vice grip on your arm. What the fuck was it now. 

Ellie. The sight of her only made your tears increase in quantity and the emotion in your chest tighten. She looked a little disheveled, her eyes round like saucers, and she was gripping onto your arm so hard as if you were going to run away. You wanted to, but she still had a magnetic hold on you, even after all that turmoil. 

Talking was painful with how much you were trying to keep a hold of yourself, but you managed out a choked, “Ellie, what?” 

She looked befuddled, shaking her head ever so slightly and scrunching up her eyebrows, her gaze boring right into yours and following whenever you tried to break it and look elsewhere. Her hold on your arm softens, and moves to rest on your shoulder. “What do you mean what? You ran outta there like you were chased by a lunatic or something, what the fuck happened?”

Her tone startled you a little, why did she care so much? Noticing you jolt, she sighs and mellows her speech. “Sorry, what I mean to say is, I'm worried. Are you okay?” 

You worried her? Heat rushed to your cheeks as you fought to break the increasingly uncomfortable eye contact, and all you could do was shrug. Your lip started quivering and you were losing the fight of keeping your composure, how wonderful. Despite everything she was being so sweet, way too sweet. You felt helpless at this point. 

The words started pouring out of your mouth like a waterfall, you were properly sobbing now, falling apart and hiccuping as months and months of emotion spilled over. 

You were blabbering about how you loved the friendship you formed with her, but how hurt you felt that she’d laugh about you, every possible insecurity just tumbled out of your lips, as you wiped at your teary face and runny nose and glanced at Ellie ever so often. 

She let you talk for a bit until she saw you get even more upset, that's when she got a step closer to you, squeezed both your shoulders gently and kept a stern tone of voice to get your attention.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay, slow down, I don't know what you're saying.” But you couldn't stop crying. Bottling up emotions was definitely a bad idea, because they were bound to burst sooner or later and unfortunately, you reached the breaking point. Sucking in some unsteady breaths as an attempt to regulate yourself, she was watching you patiently yet still cautiously. 

Your voice was weak and shaky, but you were slowly feeling a little better. For the first time during this interaction, you meet her eyes. Why was she always so pretty? She was sculpted just to spite you, you were convinced. Tears welled up in your eyes once more, but you blinked them away. “Um…Ellie…” She nodded expectantly, wanting to know what was wrong. But you could not complete your sentence as yet another bout of ache washed over you.

To snap you out of it once and for all, Ellie grabbed your face. The sheer disbelief of her action was enough to stop your tears luckily, and she held your gaze while she used her thumb to swipe at the stray teardrops adorning your cheekbones. You wanted to die, what was going on?

Once your panic was replaced with fluster and stupefaction, she let you go, but was still standing really close to you. You felt jittery from it all, nervous, embarrassed and in love and everything under the sun all at the same time. You stared at her, then looked away, then looked at her plump pink lips which were set in a questioning pout, then back up to her sympathetic greener-than-grass eyes, fuck, fuck, fuck. The intensity of the situation had caused any sense of judgment or critical thinking to long, long gone, and so your body moved on its own and before you had a chance to form a solid thought or process what you were doing.

Smooch.

You kissed her. 

Mouths colliding like magnets as you held onto the sides of her face, fireworks igniting in every single part of your body. Cradling her jaw as you closed the space between you two, the hurricane of emotion coursing through your veins as your lips caressed hers, and time felt like it had stopped. The months and months of excruciating pining had all led up to this very moment. 

She instinctively kissed you back, you felt her breaths fanning your face. You were about to ascend to another dimension. Lingering against her for a little longer, you forced yourself to regretfully pull away, and laughed loudly at her state now. 

Her lips were parted and she was gawking at you, you had broken her completely. Your own heart was working overtime, you were panting from the adrenaline of the situation, and could only hear the blood rushing in your ears. 

She seemed to be in a coma, doing nothing but staring and breathing. You punched her arm playfully, your voice breaking.

“I’M IN LOVE WITH YOU, YOU FUCKING IDIOT.” 

An frustrated confession tore itself from your throat, even the world's strongest iron bars couldn't contain it. You wiped at your face with your sleeves, a sad attempt to clear it of the residual salty tears that never once stopped their journey out of your eyes.

The sadness had left you, and you felt lighter now, truthfully. Had no idea how you would ever face her again after all this, but at least the cat was out of the bag and you had gotten that off of your chest. You both stood there in silence, now what was wrong with her? What a dork. Sucking on your teeth and kicking a pebble on the ground you admitted finally, “So, yeah. That's what's been troubling me, I guess.” 

Her pupils were dilated and huge, as she scanned all over your features, her mouth opening and closing as if she was having an internal battle of what to say. She stood there almost appearing miles more shocked than you somehow, she looked as if she was going to have a heart attack and die on you, you found it funny, but concerning at the same time. 

You watched her for a moment more, before accepting your disappointing fate and bidding her a goodbye. You cleared your throat. “Okay then. Cya in class. Bye.” You turned on your heel and began the walk back to your room, but this time for real, and didn't look back at her. Even if you wanted to, you couldn't, you wanted to leave this whole fiasco in the past. That chapter was closed, it seemed. 

The only thing left to do now was call your bestie, Abby. She has been your cheerleader through this whole thing, through all this time, gave you advice and brought you back to Earth, and you needed her support now more than ever. 

Right after you reached your dorm she was there in no time at all, after receiving your distress call she scrambled into action, with chocolates and boxed wine in hand. Maybe you should just date her instead at this point. Who else was left for you?

You talked and talked and talked to her about everything for so long, talking the night away just like old times, and she sat and listened to your every word, patted your back reassuringly as you weeped into her shoulder, then tucked you into bed at the end of it all. She left only when she was sure you'd relaxed fully.

You didn't fall asleep quite yet, and stayed awake thinking, pondering life and staring up at your ceiling. It turns out angrily confessing to the girl you've been infatuated with forever by impulsively kissing her and letting the whole campus know it was a tiring thing after all. You really did cause a bit of a scene, when you thought about it in hindsight.

But what was this all like from Ellie's perspective? You wished you could know what she thought, or at least gotten some sort of formal response. Her friend storms out of a cafe, kisses her and screams she's in love with her? It's certainly understandable she'd feel a little lost, or under great pressure to give you an answer. Her reaction did make sense though, after being met with such a shocking revelation. Wow, now that you were really thinking about it, she still did not know why you ran out of the cafe like that. You wished you could turn back time and redo this day, shame that wasn't possible. Were you two ever going to have a discussion about this, or had you just lost a friend for life. Oh no, you pushed that thought away as quickly as it appeared, you didn't have an ounce of energy left over to dwell on it.

You'd work out what you were going to face her next later, a very well-deserved visit to dreamland was way overdue. You felt your eyelids grow heavy and your breathing slow, so you turned on your side and snuggled into your bed, eventually falling into a deep, deep sleep.

Meanwhile on your bedside table:

Bzz, bzz, bzz. 

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[lowkeyerror]

The Family Business Ch.6

WandaNat x Raeder

Word Count: 2.4k

Ch. Notes: Rising tensions

Summary: The after math of the fallout between Wanda and her family leads to an all too important business meeting the next day.

An: haha I didn't almost forget to post today... And don't hate me for the next chapter please

Series Masterlist | Masterlist

“What um… what number are you guys staying in? Do you know?”  You ask, finally breaking the silence as you arrived at the building.

“220,” Natasha answers for them.

You nod, “I’m in 216, we’ll be right across from each other.”

The ride in the elevator was as silent as the car ride. The anger that was permeating off of Wanda had slightly reduced, but not by much. When the elevator opens, you escort the women to their apartment.

You point across the hall then say, “Well this is you and that is me if you need anything you can always knock."

You attempt to walk away, but a soft grip around your wrist stops you.  Your gaze slowly rises to meet Wanda’s. She pulls you into her and the warmth of her embrace let’s you know that she’ll be alright.

“Goodnight little krolik,” she kisses the top of your head before making her way into her new home.

“She’s going to be ok right?” You ask Natasha and she smiles softly at you.

“I’ll make sure of it lisichka. Go rest, you've had an eventful day. “

Its like her words trigger a yawn from your lips. Exhaustion is finally catching up to you properly.

“Goodnight, Nat.”

Once you go into your condo you sigh. The quiet finally getting the best of you. Though you were exhausted your mind was racing. Car chase, Wanda, Natasha, dinner, it all hit you at once.  Despite your thoughts you attempt to get ready for bed.

Your phone buzzes on the nightstand as soon as your head hits the pillow. It’s a text from Dragos calling for a meeting tomorrow at 9am. You put the phone back down and shut your eyes. This would all feel easier to deal with in the morning.

When your alarm rings at 7 am, you are quick to shut it off. Your sleep had been restless, and you feel the previous nights events weighing heavily on your shoulders. Nonetheless you stumble out of your bed.

After you brush your teeth, you throw on a pair of sweats to get your morning run in before the meeting. Usually, you’d do a run followed by a more rigorous workout, but you were short on time.

Your mind is clear as you begin to run away from the condo. Your only thoughts are focusing on your breathing.

Gloom hadn’t yet left the city. Though it wasn’t raining yet you wouldn’t be surprised if it started up later. Traffic seemed light, not a lot of cars were passing you on the road. The cool air was welcomed against your face as your body temperature slowly rose with each stride.

For a small moment in time, you were at peace. Part of you wished to skip the meeting and just take a lazy day. However, that wasn’t an option because you didn’t work in a regular job field. The non-negotiables of your profession were few but harsh. While you knew the Maximoff’s were lenient with you, you never craved to take advantage of that.

When you arrive back to your building, you quickly shower and dress. You had just finished doing your hair when your doorbell rang. Opening the door, you are met by a familiar red head, who seems to be in a better mood than last night.

“Morning little krolik, I come with coffee and a bagel.”

You smile, “The occasion?”

“I was hoping we’d carpool to work.”

You nod a few times, “Of course, just let me grab my coat and we can head out.”

Quickly you grab your belongings and follow Wanda to her car. You quietly munch on the bagel during the car ride.

“No Natasha today?”

She shakes her head, “Papa is still unsure of her role in the company, so he doesn't want her at the meeting.”

“Speaking of Dragos, are you feeling any better from… yesterday?”

Wanda takes a deep breath. You see her hands clench around the wheel and her demeanor shifts slightly.

“I assume the meeting will further address what happened last night,” she speaks flatly.

“Wanda, you have to keep calm.”

You see her jaw clench, “I will reflect whatever mood is brought unto me.”

You shake your head, “You and I both know that nothing gets solved with that kind of behavior.”

“So, what, you want me to bow down and apologize?” The irritation in her voice doesn’t phase you.

“That’s not what I said. I’m saying you can’t get into a yelling match, and you can’t put your hands on anyone.”

“If they were honest with me from the beginning I wouldn’t have-"

You cut her off, “I didn’t ask for an explanation Wanda. I’m telling you something that I know you are already aware of. If you want to head this organization, you have to keep your emotions in check.”

She mumbles underneath her breath. You raise an eyebrow at her childish antics, “What was that?”

“I said, it’s easier to keep my emotions in check when the lies aren’t about you.”

You fumble with your words briefly before speaking, “Well I told you truth, didn’t I?”

“Yes, but- “

“Well, there you have it. If you want to know something about me, it’s best to ask me. However, if I tell you, and you don’t like what you hear you have to deal with that on your own time,” you glance at her.

She chuckles softly to herself, “I don’t think I’m ever going to get used to how much you’ve grown.”

You smile, but then it falters as you recall the argument from last night. Wanda had made Pietro and Dragos retreat instantly when mentioning something that revolved around you. You want to know what it is.

“Wanda, what are they hiding from me?”

You can visibly see the woman pale, “Do you trust me Y/n?”

You nod slowly.

She sighs, “When it’s the right time, I’ll tell you.”

You want to argue more, but you don’t. You trust Wanda, you know she has your best interests in mind. So, you fight the urge to be upset for the rest of the car ride.

When you get to the office, the two of you ride straight to the top floor. Dragos, Pietro, and Flora were already there. The room is tense as you both sit across from them. Usually you’d sit by Pietro’s side, but you weren’t going to let Wanda feel alone in this.

“You can disagree with me if you want, but your actions yesterday proved why keeping you in the dark about the situation with Y/n was the right thing to do. You’re hot-headed now, but back then you were even worse,” Dragos looks his daughter in the eye when he speaks.

You can feel the anger radiating off of Wanda’s body and for a moment you think she is going to have an outburst. Instead, she puts her elbows on the table and leans forward, never breaking eye contact with her father.

“We are a family and I thought that we agreed on having no secrets from each other. In this business a secret is the most dangerous weapon that could be used against us. My potential reaction aside, keeping this secret from me is breaking the rules you set in place. Or do the rules only apply to me?”

Wanda’s response was damn good in your opinion. Although she was angry you saw her hands clasping each other for dear life as a sign of restraint.

“Can we just move on from this? It was 5 years ago, and Y/n is fine now,” Pietro tries to defuse the tension.

Wanda shakes her head, “As much as this is about Y/n, it’s also about not respecting me enough to keep me properly informed about our family and our business. It’s unfair for you all to sit here and claim that I’m solely in the wrong. We can’t move on until all parties take responsibility for their part in this,” Wanda holds firm.

It's weird being in a meeting about yourself, but almost having nothing to do with anything being discussed.

“Have you ever considered the possibility that Y/n didn’t want us to tell you?” Dragos states and your body tenses.

“No,” Wanda says nonchalantly, as if his question was unimportant.

“What if she…”

Wanda’s glare hits her father like an ice pick to the back, “This isn’t a hypothetical, papa. If in some universe out their Y/n wanted you to keep it a secret from me, then that would be fine. However, this isn’t that universe, now is it Y/n?”

She doesn’t look at you, but you answer her question firmly, “No, it isn’t.”

“The best way to move forward from this is an apology from both sides. Wanda has just returned and we’ve dwelled on this matter for too long,” Flora stops the argument in it’s track.

You thought it was a civil solution. It would be for the best, but just by taking a quick glance at Wanda you can tell that she doesn’t want to apologize. It was her rigid posture and her hardened eyes. She felt like she did nothing wrong, but you were hoping she would stand down for the greater good.

“Wanda, I’m sorry we intentionally kept this from you. It is not the way we do things around here. Forgive me, docha,” Dragos speaks sincerely as he looks at Wanda.

She doesn’t seem to be budging. You make the judgment call by discreetly placing your hand on her thigh. This causes her to look in your direction and you speak to her with your eyes. Your features are telling her to apologize. You see her posture relaxes and her eyes soften a bit.

“I’m sorry for the way that I acted last night. It was uncalled for, regardless of my feelings,” she speaks with an equal amount of sincerity.

“Good, now that we’ve settled that I’m going to cut to the chase. Natasha, what assets does she bring to the table?” Dragos moves on to business fairly quickly.

Wanda follows his suit, speaking highly of her wife, “Natasha is a hands on kind of employee. She thrives being where the action is and that doesn’t just mean in a fight. She’s a highly trained assassin, her accolades are insurmountable, and there’s quite literally nothing that she can’t do.”

“She can start as head of security, and we can see what she can do from there,” Dragos offers, but even you think the role is undercutting Natasha’s abilities.

Wanda seems frustrated, but she is going to agree to these terms.

You speak up, “I think she should be in charge of field operations.”

“You and Pietro handle the field operations just fine, why add a third?” Dragos questions with curiosity not animosity.

“To avoid things like what happened yesterday with Mr. H. Right now, the way we operate is that Piet comes and gets me when needed and we just go from there. It’s not strategic at all, I’m usually in the car before I know what exactly it is that we’re doing,” you argue your position.

“It always works out,” Pietro fires back.

Your eyes lock on his, “But it could work better. With me running numbers for the company and for our business, I don’t always have the time to sit and plan out these operations. We all know that Piet doesn’t believe in planning. It’s field operations, it shouldn’t always just be Piet and me. We should have men out there with us incase things go south, but there’s never a plan for that.”

“And you think the addition of Ms. Romanoff will add…” Dragos leads off his sentence.

“She’s going to add structure and power by organizing this department into an actual department rather than just Piet and I doing deliveries in car. She’s experienced and we should be using that to our advantage, especially with us potentially being undercut at the moment.”

Dragos ponders, which is a good thing. It means he believes there is something to everything you’re saying.

“Give her a week on field operations and if you don’t see any type of benefit, she can be head of security,” Wanda offers a compromise.

“Only a week?” His disbelief is hidden in his voice, but you know it’s there.

“It’s all she needs,” Wanda says with confidence.

“Alright, that’s everything for today- “

“We’re not going to address the Kingpin situation?” You stay planted firmly in your chair.

Dragos sighs, “I will deal with Kingpin personally.  I had Kate set up a meeting at neutral territory.”

You shook your head knowing what Dragos was insinuating, “You’re trying to have a one-on-one meeting with this bastard? Everyone in this room knows that idea sounds like shit.”

“It’s not an idea, it’s happening in a few hours,” Dragos counters.

“Papa you’re going to have someone tailing you right? You don’t trust him to keep true to his word,” Pietro looks at his father in disbelief.

Dragos’s hand trails through his thick gray hair, “I’ve dealt with Kingpin before. I’ve known him for a long time, and I will be prepared for whatever he has coming.”

“Papa you can’t be serious?” Wanda has features akin to Pietro.

The arguing is about to continue, but then Flora speaks up, “Your father knows what he’s doing kids. Have some faith in him, he’s got a lot of experience for all of you. If he thinks this is the right call, then it has to be. Now, you’re dismissed.”

Suddenly there was no room for arguing with her. You try to keep calm but your feelings on the matter aren’t well hidden as you storm out of the room. Wanda and Pietro leave after you, both with the goal of trying to comfort you. However, their moods weren’t much better than yours.

When it was just the husband and wife in the office Flora let her nerves show. She was unsure about this plan. The lack of support from the group only heightened her anxiety for her husband’s well-being.

“You better prove them wrong Dragos. If anything were to happen to you I-"

The older man is gentle as he reaches for his wife’s hand, in the way he is always gentle with her. He places a kiss to the back of her palm, “Nothing is going to happen to me, moya lybov. I’m going to take car of this business and this family like I always have.”

Dragos wasn’t going to show his nerves. He never did, but to think they didn’t exist would’ve been ignorant. There wasn’t a reality that Dragos saw where the meeting went sideways. It had to go well, or a war would tear across the city. That thought protected him like a bullet proof vest. He was going to protect the industry he worked to build because that was the only option.

Taglist: @natashaswife4125 @autorasexy @alexawynters @blkmxrvel @toouncreativeforausername @likemick @sgm616 @bstvst @dorabledewdroop @sapphic-simp4015 @natty-taffy

[solarsturniolo]

Pugs ‘N’ Kisses // M.S. // PROLOGUE

By Natalie 💋

Summary: Matt has always been the one person you can count on. Whether it be for advice or a holiday event, he always knew how to take care of you. There's nothing he wouldn't do for you.

Other Parts: Chapter One,

Warnings: Smut / Stalking / Voyeurism / Cursing / Obsessive Behavior / Possessive Behavhior / Minors DNI

You never really thought much of it.

Ever since you became friends with him, Matt had always been a sweetheart to you. Opening doors for you, kicking his brother’s ankle if he tried to take the booth seat, driving you everywhere you could possibly want to go; no matter the circumstance, Matt was always someone you could rely on, and he made that clear. He invited you to any outings that he and his brothers attended. He spent hours helping you build that matching furniture set for your bedroom, insisting that he could do it all himself for you. He made himself available for you whenever you needed him. 

Matt made an impression on everyone in your life, and a good one at that. He would help your mom set the table on nights when he was invited for dinner, and he would happily do the dishes once everyone was finished. He was a schmoozer, a charmer. From asking how her day was to empathizing with her frustration with whatever meaningless squabble happened at work with Theresa that works in the next cubicle over. He knew just the right questions to ask and just the right emotions to express on his face. He’d send you a smile across the table, reminding you that he still had his attention on you. One time you were almost sure that he winked at you, something the group chat heard plenty of that evening once he had left, though after some evaluation you assumed it must’ve just been a trick of the light.

After dinner, your mother would always insist on putting a movie on for everyone to watch. A desperate attempt to make you all seem like a normal family in front of your guest, though anyone with half a brain could see through it. You would try to weasel out of it, but Matt would just smile and tell you ‘I don’t mind,’ which was all you needed to give in. Halfway through, every single time, your father would notoriously begin to critique whatever had been put on. It was very easy for Matt to get on your father’s good side, all he had to do was agree with everything he would bitch and moan about. ‘The quality is garbage,’ he would grunt, and Matt would reply ‘It’s like it was recorded on an iPhone 4’ to which your father would laugh and playfully punch his shoulder. ‘This kid knows what’s up,’ he’d approvingly remark, spending the rest of the film making little jabs at the movie with Matt following him up in agreement. 

The biggest impression he had made, and the most important in his eyes, were your friends. Of course your parents’ approval mattered, but they didn’t know the real you, not the way your friends did. Granted, it took a lot of work. They were certain that he and any other human with a dick and balls were bad news. Fair enough, he thought. He knew it wouldn’t be easy, he knew it would take a lot of time and effort. But you are worth that. It had taken almost a year to get your friends one hundred percent on the Matt bandwagon, but he really sealed the deal on your birthday. 

He greeted you at your house that afternoon with a gorgeous floral arrangement in a beautiful glass vase. He knew your friends would be over, he was betting on it. They all watched with envy glossed over their eyes as you admired the beautiful arrangement, and while you were happily distracted, to not take the attention off of you on your special day of course, he brought in three much smaller bouquets; one for each of your friends. From that moment forward, everyone was team Matt. Your parents and friends would ask about him regularly. “When is Matt coming over again?” “You and that Matt boy still friends?” “You should invite Matt!” 

It felt good. Being liked by all of the closest people in your life was important to him. It gave him leverage, access to more sides of you than just what you showed him. He got to see your girly side with your friends, and he got to see your more domestic side with your family, though his favorite side of you was when you were with him. Just him. Not him and your friends, not him and your parents, not him and his brothers. Him.

You had to admit, that was your favorite side of yourself as well. Something about him, maybe it was his aura, maybe it was his horoscope chart, or maybe he was just the first decent guy you had ever gotten close with, but something about him made you feel at ease. He didn’t give you butterflies, instead he made all of the noise and static go quiet. Your hands never shook as long as he was holding them. Your body never felt cold as long as he was next to you. It was a weird feeling; A good feeling, but weird. You had never felt this way about another person before. 

Matt felt the same way. Any day that he got to spend with you was a good day. Any day that he got to speak to you or see your face was a good day. Any day that you made an appearance of any kind became a good day. Summer nights running down the beaches of Cape Cod, rainy days cooped up in your bedroom listening to your favorite vinyl records, late nights sending Game Pigeon games back and forth for hours. It didn’t matter what you did together, it only mattered that he got to do it with you. 

The only thing that mattered to him was you. 

a/n: Welp…good luck yall. @flowerxbunnie and I already planned out this entire story.

Tags: @flowerxbunnie @mattslolita @mattsbratt69 @oversturn @simplysturn @soursturniolo @megamett44-lover @sturnybabes @jjmaybankswifes-blog @plasticferal @cupidsword @liz-stxrn @sturniolosreads @sturnioloskies @bernardsleftbootycheek @egirlshit @matthemunch44 @nonamegirlxsturniolo @chrizz333 @sturniolopowers @mattsleftnipple03 @worldlxvlys @hearts4chris @tillies33ssss @janiellasblog @creamoncreamoncream2 @breeloveschris @meg-sturniolo @ellie-luvsfics @mattsfavwh3re @lustfulslxt @braindead4l @xtravrgnoliveoil @ghostlythinggoingaround @taekwite @leah-loves-lilies @querenciasturniolo @whicked-hazlatwhore @lacysturniolo @sara2233445

[mapoeggplant]

skip to loafer chapter 65 analysis // spoilers

the girl who's chasing the sun and the boy who's finding a way to walk by her side: how much kindness is needed for one to forgive themselves and finally listen to their heart?

for this month's review, i wanted to do something a little different: i'm going to divide it into two parts. the first part will be about the chapter, of course, and address some points that i think are worth discussing. the second part, i'd like to focus much more on the message of kindness that skip to loafer brings to its readers. so, here we go.

finally, the long-awaited date is here. i confess that i always felt a little uncomfortable when people demanded so much for this date to happen faster, to sensei “get over with it”. i know, i was also looking forward to it, but the whole build-up that led us to this moment made it even more impactful and even stronger. to build a story, you need not only a beginning and an end, but a middle that supports both events. the story of shima and mitsumi had its beginning and now we're facing the middle. no, the breakup didn't bring the end, it was just a complement. an event as big as this one needs to be sustained with enough strength to have the necessary impact. so yes, the “delay” that many complained was extremely well used and made their night together even more special.

now, about the actual date. it’s beautiful to see how they managed to find a space in all this confusion to make their friendship prevail and the discomfort that they both felt before dissipate. of course, their relationship didn’t go back to what it was before, but i don’t think that would ever be possible: relationships change, no matter if good or bad things happen. the way we relate to people grows at the same speed as we grow. and, to keep it alive, it takes a lot of humility, kindness and, of course, love.

since the chapter is slightly more focused on shima, his insecurity and fear are much clearer and more palpable. shima is a character who still carries a lot of regret for everything he did, even for things that weren’t his fault, like his past and the mistakes he made along the way, guided by people with ill intentions. the breakup with mitsumi left a huge scar on him, since he still firmly believes that he is the one most to blame for their friendship almost falling apart. mitsumi is one of the few people who genuinely wants to be with shima and he knows it — but that doesn't change the fact that he is still very afraid that she will never really get to know his "real self" and to like him for who he is, specially because shima himself doesn’t really know what all of this mean. shima feels disappointed that mitsumi has "fallen" for his false kindness because he feels that he is not only deceiving other people, but also one of the most important people in his life. lying to mitsumi not only brings a pain to his heart, but also an enormous insecurity that he will never be able to convey his feelings for her, because he will never be able to overcome this wall that he himself created. when he himself admits that his feelings for her are much deeper, he finally get in touch with the desire to be completely exposed to her, to be accepted by her and that he could finally stop using the facade he hates so much against her.

what he doesn't know yet is that mitsumi can see beyond his mask — and much more than he even imagines: mitsumi sees the real kindness within shima. as much as he insists on saying that this is just a way of protecting himself, mitsumi can indeed find in shima's actions a kindness and affection that are far from being fabricated. it saved her so many times before so, if what she felt was real and valid, why wouldn't his intentions be truthful as well? mitsumi sees shima for who he is, and respects all the past that he is still afraid to show, that’s why she never pressured him to open up and respected every time he changed the subject. there was no need for her to dive deep into something that didn’t involved her, so all she could do was show that she would be there for him when he needed and when he find the right time to tell her all about the little shima she never met. mitsumi sees the kindness he holds in his heart and all the good intentions he had when he helped her before, something he lies to himself and say it was “only a facade”. he still can’t see how much he wanted to protect her and be by her side all guided by his own heart and good faith, not the lie he made up. the real shima was the one who wanted to do all that, not the “fake” he created. when mitsumi chooses to end their relationship, she’s truly thinking about his feelings and a way to save their friendship before both of them came out completely hurt by it (but i want to point out something very, very important: they are both teenagers. of course they will act impulsively and end up hurting each other without realizing it. shima doesn't know which of his actions hurt mitsumi, just as she doesn't know which of her words might end up hurting him. they are at the beginning of a long life and a long journey, so why not give them the kindness they so deserve?). 

shima finally manages to take a step forward, getting closer and closer to walking side by side with mitsumi. as he becomes more in touch with his own feelings, shima sees a huge need to change and start being more sincere. in order for him to become a better person, in his own eyes, he now needs to start putting the mask aside and embrace who he truly is. no longer listening to others or fulfilling desires that are not his: now is the time for him to look inside himself and, above all, listen to his own heart. from now on, the path he will follow is his and his alone.

now, for the second part: i really want to talk a little about how skip to loafer has an extremely delicate writing style that focuses so much on kindness, whether it is the kind we export to the world or the kind we internalize.

those who usually follow my analysis must be tired of hearing how much i talk about the message of “i love you for who you are” that skip to loafer values ​​and explores so much. but it’s no use: the more i talk about it, the more i admire the dedication that the sensei puts into writing completely real and human characters. it is always a great joy when people come to me and say how much they saw themselves in one character or two, and how that made them feel embraced. it warms my heart that people can see, thought these characters, the kindness they deserve. It’s very clear to me how sensei is always so worried with showing the reality of their journey of loving themselves in a way to bring the reader closer and learn from it. 

of course, shima and mitsumi's friendship and relationship could end with the breakup. or, from another angle, it is clear that they could have started a relationship much earlier and maintained it despite all the challenges they still have to face with themselves. but... is that valid? is that fair to them? is that kind to both the characters and the readers?

by opting for a gentler writing style and a story more focused their lives rather than taking a romantic road trip (after all, it is a slice of life), skip to loafer delves into a great lesson about compassion and acceptance that no one is perfect. we will all make mistakes during the course of our lives, but it is up to us to get up and move on, building other stories and sharing beauty with whoever is by our side. we may not see how kind we are to others, but there is certainly someone by our side who admires us and is grateful for everything we have done for them.

and i'm grateful for you for reading my analysis 💛 thank you. don't forget to support sensei and send her lots of kindness!!!! skip to loafer will be on break next month, so see you in december :)

[tsukimefuku]

The broken idealist: Higuruma Hiromi

And how the world of JJK viciously punishes idealists.

Before we start, let’s set some premises:

This is an essay based solely on my opinions and my own knowledge of criminal justice. I’m no professional writer/essayist.

JJK is a critique on unfair systems that reward selfishness and nurture individualistic (oftentimes destructive) behaviors.

One of the main motifs in JJK is (un)fairness.

Even when rewarded by these systems, individuals usually end up alienated (Gojo being the utmost example, but so is Sukuna to some extent).

The world of JJK punishes idealists very harshly. 

I might've read waaaaay too deep into his character (apologies in advance).

I am ABSOLUTELY biased in analyzing this character because I kin Higuruma very hard and identify profoundly with many of his struggles.

[queue “Pigs” by Pink Floyd] Let's do this.

The ideal of truth and Higuruma choosing to be a criminal defense attorney

Higuruma shows up in the manga as one of the top players of the Culling Games. Throughout a few chapters, Gege introduces him to us as a former criminal defense attorney that has lost it after one of his clients gets his innocence verdict overruled and is unfairly convicted for a crime he didn't commit, triggering Higuruma's cursed technique to awake, ending up in the deaths of the Judge and Prosecutor that contributed for the wrongful conviction.

Along those chapters, we get to see two very interesting things: Firstly, the fact that Higuruma actively chose to be a lawyer, instead of pursuing a career as a judge. Second, his stance and lines about truth, especially this one: "Even if no one else does, I want to keep my eyes open."

Higuruma, for me, is a prime example of how someone moved by truth and justice can become a self-righteous, cynical individual (I'll refrain from the word "villain" because he wasn't ever an actual "villain" in the story). From the get go, when we get more information on his past, we can see his mental state slowly declining as he gets progressively more overworked fighting an unwinnable fight. 

We have some very important pieces of information from chapter 158: Japan has a 99% conviction rate. The public opinion about defendants is that they're always guilty. Higuruma earns little, works a lot and his job is usually trying for a miracle, to be that 1%. And, finally, that Higuruma chose to fight an unfair system from within. 

That not only has huge parallels with the world of cursed energy, but is one the most important messages I feel that JJK is building up to — you can't reform a broken system from within, because structurally and systematically unfair systems will always push things back into a state of unfairness / status quo. We see this when Gojo says, at the beginning of the manga, that even if he killed all the higher ups at that point in time, other assholes would just take their places. To a more fundamental level, we see it in Yuki's failed efforts to end curses from the perspective of a jujutsu sorcerer, and the way the story is progressing towards a complete rupture with the current state of cursed energy altogether to give place to something new.

The message is: To fight an unfair system from within and by its own rules is and always will be a losing game.

Now to Higuruma's fallout, we have a perfect storm for what happened to him — an unstoppable force meets an immovable object. 

I'll dive a little into criminal law (and c.l. procedure) and make many oversimplifications to get a point across, so I apologize to any other criminal lawyers out there reading this and cringing at the oversimplifications.

In theory, the Criminal Justice System should be preoccupied with the truth. Criminal Law, in essence, is attributing a penalty (prison, fine, death, etc.) to an act (to kill, to rob) described by law as a crime. In that regard, then, one could only suffer said penalty if they actually committed the act that the law described as being a crime. 

Where does truth come into place here?

To investigate if something happened in the world of facts (the real, concrete world) is essentially a search for truth, which to me is very telling of Higuruma's choice in becoming a criminal defense attorney. 

In an unfair system in which 99% of people are convicted, it'd make no sense for this man to become a prosecutor. The prosecution is already benefiting from the system, considering the way the scales are tipped. That's a given.

But regarding the judgeship, things become more interesting. In a fair criminal justice system, the judge is forbidden to engage in probationary activity (which means, basically, that the judge cannot search for evidence, investigate or look for witnesses, he can solely analyze what the defense and prosecution bring to him in order to give a verdict — the judge does not engage in the most important activity in finding the truth).

Why can't the judge do that?

Because when the presumption of innocence is in place, anyone is presumed innocent until proven guilty, ergo, if there is not enough evidence to convict, the person must be acquitted. If the judge engages in that activity, they'd be taking on the prosecution's job — to prove the occurrence of a given criminal act. We have separate places for judging and prosecuting for a reason.

The scales are already in favor of the prosecution (they literally have THE STATE’S aid ikn the form of police forces to investigate and taxpayer money to foot costs during criminal lawsuits), so anything that might end up harming or weakening the presumption of innocence is strictly forbidden, including having the judge engage in probationary activity. If the lack of evidence is enough to acquit someone, then having the judge searching for evidence automatically harms the presumption of innocence, because if there is not enough evidence to convict someone, the judge MUST acquit. 

In that scenario, then, the best place for someone who wants to search and defend the truth against unfairness is the Defense stand, clearly. 

Everything said up until now about how the criminal justice system should work is just the theory, however. The reality of it is far sinister. The criminal justice system is a machine perfectly conceived to chew out those who fight for fairness, because fairness is not one of its main goals. It's main goal is serving as an instrument of power (in the most Foucaultian sense of the word) and control over citizens and, to some degree, appease collective concerns about crime rates and violence by making examples out of people, whether they're guilty or not (I could go on a tangent here for hours about the criminal justice system, capitalism and protection of private property by the state, but let's not do that, lol). 

That's why Keita's trial is the perfect storm to break Higuruma's psyche so deeply. All the systematic unfairnesses that exist in the Japanese Criminal Justice System chomp away his ideals — one might say, what constitutes the very core of who he is — and unceremoniously spits it right back in his face. 

Independent defense lawyers are systematically in a worse position regarding resources to gather evidence in their client's favor; it's easier to convict someone who's already under the gavel than to start a new investigation on somebody else and spend even more taxpayer money; to convict a person whom the people deem as guilty soothes the public opinion regarding how well the criminal justice system actually works to "keep society safe from these foul criminals" (not human beings); the appeal is a limited resource in most criminal justice systems, so after one gets their innocence verdict overturned, to get it back is extremely hard.

Everything worked perfectly to break every inch of Higuruma's ideals. It's no use for you to be the only one willing to stare truth in its eyes if everyone else looks away because it's more convenient to let the unfair gears keep turning the way they do. You'll give yourself to unnecessary suffering meanwhile nothing ever changes. This could even help draw a parallel between Higuruma's and Geto's fallouts: to realize how broken the system is, how you can't break a wall with the toy hammer the wall builders give you, and how lonely/depressing/infuriating of an experience it is to realize all this and still know there is absolutely nothing you can do. 

The game is rigged, and if someone ever so chooses to not play by those rules, they're viciously punished.

Now that we've gotten to the breaking part, let's see how it manifests in Higuruma's own cursed technique and domain expansion.

The broken idealist and the cynicism

Someone had made an amazing post about how Higuruma's domain expansion was a perfect demonstration of his own cynicism at the moment his abilities were awakened, but I couldn't find it! So OP, if you by any chance end up reading this, HMU, because what you said will be featured here. (Edit: found it. Thanks, Eugie! The post can be accessed here, and @wolke17 made a deeper analysis after it, take a look at their profile)

In order to talk about Higuruma's cynicism stemming from his disappointment with the criminal justice system, we need to talk about his domain, so that's what we're gonna do now.

In his domain expansion, we meet his shikigami, Judgeman, who is an all-knowing creature responsible for giving off the verdict at the end of the debates between the two parties. According to Higuruma, Judgeman knows absolutely everything about someone's life the moment they enter his domain.

All is well up until now, isn't it? Hm, not so much. There are some very serious philosophical conundrums to having an all-knowing being bestowing judgment (skeptical catholics went crazy over this for many centuries). 

Think about this: in a Courtroom, we have a judge who needs to get to know the facts, and is presented with two different hypotheses about the facts (prosecution and defense), for which the evidentiary activity (collecting evidence) is needed to support one hypothesis or the other. Given that we abide by the presumption of innocence, you don’t even have to prove the defense’s hypothesis to get an acquittal, as long as the prosecution one isn’t proven beyond a reasonable doubt.

What’s the issue with having a judge that is omniscient? 

First off, why would two hypotheses need to be confronted if the judge already knows the answer — if the person did or did not commit the crime?

On another note, now going into more of a “well he’s just judging based on the allegations”, it gets deeper. We have a judge that knows what happened, but simply decides based on the parties arguments. This is a huge issue because firstly, it obliterates the value of truth in the justice system — if criminal law is attributing to a particularly reprehensible action a penalty, and judgeman knows if that action took place or not, yet doesn’t decide according to what happened, but according to who best defends their point of view, it annihilates the very own reason for collecting evidence, the reason that a judgment needs to take place and the reason for criminal law even existing.

In Higuruma's domain, then, truth becomes the least important thing. In there, who has the better argument wins the debate. The judgment that happens within Deadly Sentencing is not about truth, it’s about the game's rules (or, more specifically, his domain's rules) and who plays them better, which makes it all the more ironic that Higuruma sees so much “potential” in the Culling Games due to its rules and established mechanics.

In a courtroom setting, having an omniscient judge is always, in any scenario, a cynical game of wits, and it fits perfectly with the philosophical fallout Higuruma experienced after Keita's conviction. His perspective got switched from "who deserves to win according to the truth" to "who plays the game better". He lost faith in the criminal justice system, and to a deeper degree, he lost faith in fairness in the world as a whole.

And that's why we can arrive at the conclusion that Higuruma is, in essence, a "broken idealist" character: he's not pandering to the idea that "the winner should be the one who plays the rules better” because he truly believes it; he's doing it out of resentment, because he got time and time again punished and was subjected to a hell of a lot of suffering for upholding his own ideals of truth and fairness. He's not acting, he is reacting to being unraveled and broken the way he was.

It also shows in his discourse regarding the weak, and the way he tries to place himself above what he dubs “the ugliness of people”, as the only one who sees the truth (“darkness is only darkness / people are ugly”). It’s a mirror: he experienced his own helplessness (or weakness) with Keita’s conviction, so in an effort to try and protect whatever is left from his own psyche, he’s actively denying how helpless he really feels by putting himself above the “truly weak”. 

In the end, however, Higuruma kept his idealistic essence alive instead of giving himself over to the story that he told himself as a defense mechanism, unlike Geto, which is why it was possible to bring him back.

Even broken, he remained an idealist at heart.

written by tsukimefuku ㋡ comments and reblogs are appreciated. do not copy, translate or repost. copycatting is for losers.

[storiesofsvu]

Decadent Desires Ch 19

Emily Prentiss x reader warnings: language, alcohol consumption, the usual denial of feelings. It's all coming together now! Only a couple of more chapters to go! I'm super curious to how y'all think things are gonna go down and exactly when the oh moment really will be/what's gonna make them both admit it to themselves.

3.8k

Emily was a little later than she thought she would be, barely making it before breakfast hours ended but the important thing was that she got the food and she made it to your place and wasn’t whisked away by any phone calls. Securing the bag and drink tray she made it through the halls of your building until she was outside your door, knocking on it the best she could with her elbow. It took a couple of minutes, she could hear some shuffling gong on inside, but you finally pulled the door open, your head titling at the sight of her.

“Hey.” She greeted with a warm smile.

“Hey…” you replied, a tiny laugh coming from your mouth, “what’re you doing here?”

“I promised I’d bring brunch.” She held up the bag, “well, lazy brunch.” She surveyed you for a minute, watching the gears turning behind your eyes and it was her turn to laugh. “Oh my god, you really are out of it. Jetlag gets you that bad? I thought you travelled for work?”

“Not often.” You admitted, feeling the heat creeping into your cheeks as you fully remembered the conversation in her office, “and it’s only ever like, a two hour time difference.” You stepped back, letting her into the house and raising your hands to take the tray and bag from her so she could get rid of her shoes and coat.

“You really forgot I was coming?” She asked, swiping the bag back from you and following you into the living room.

“Figured you were off on a case.” You shrugged, dropping back down onto the couch, fiddling with the remote to turn the volume down as you burrowed yourself under the blanket you’d been under before the bell rang. “I’m glad you weren’t though…. I’ve been doom scrolling through three different apps trying to decide what to get delivered for hours without a single thought in my head on what I could possibly want.”

“Well, enjoy some delicious grease then.” Emily suggested with a smile, pulling what she wanted from the bag before handing it over to you.

“Thank you. Seriously.” You eagerly searched through it, pulling out a McMuffin and a hashbrown, your stomach loudly growling. “Would’ve wasted away to nothing without it.”

Emily laughed softly, watching the intricate way you inspected the ingredients of the sandwich, adding both ketchup and hot sauce into it before slipping a hashbrown next to the egg and putting it all back together. You let out a very appreciative groan after your first bite and silently gave her a very thankful look that she didn’t need words to transcribe.  

“I’ve never tried that.”

“Oh my god it’s the best.” You mumbled over a bite of food, swallowing it down “especially when the hashbrown’s extra crispy like this.”

“Guess it’s a good thing I got extras.”

“Anyone ever tell you you’re a true angel?” You asked and she laughed.

“Not often.”

“Well you are.” You leant in, kissing her cheek gently, “thank you.”

“Of course.” She squeezed at your knee, “I bailed on an arranged date, I had to make it up to you.” She gestured toward the tv, “now, what’re we watching?”

“Real Housewives. LA I think?” You shifted over to your right, nestling into the corner of the couch, your legs extending onto the longer part of the sectional as you adjusted the blanket. “It’s my brain rot show, I can never keep the cities straight. Now c’mon.” You waved her over to you, “make yourself at home, get comfy and put your feet up.”

Emily laughed softly, easily sliding in beside you as you pulled down another blanket to make sure there was enough for both of you. The sectional was wide, the extended portion more than spacious enough for you to both use it without being right up against each other. Not that that mattered, once breakfast was eaten and you just had coffee to sip on (you didn’t miss that Emily skipped coffee at McDonald’s, opting for a local shop a couple of blocks from your place so she could get your preferred seasonal blend) you were nestled right into Emily’s side. Her arm instinctively looped over your shoulders, encouraging you to lean into her. If you squinted hard enough and it wasn’t for the blustery weather outside the windows, it was like you were back on vacation.

With the television playing on, it didn’t take very long before you were drifting off, Emily managing to snag your almost empty coffee cup before the remnants split all over your couch. She was more than happy to let you snooze against her, your heart beat calm, thudding against her own rib cage and eventually lulling her to sleep too. Either one or both of you would wake up occasionally throughout the afternoon, sometimes shifting because of a cramped shoulder or foot, others because your bladder was screaming or because you desperately needed some hydration. The channel got changed a couple of times, flicking between a few options so you weren’t totally sucked into one overdramatic mess of somewhat real reality tv. Otherwise the two of you returned to your little corner of the couch, burying deep into each other’s arms with happy sighs and content little smiles. There wasn’t much of a better way to spend a Sunday.

At one point you woke up with a small yawn, rolling in Emily’s lap toward the arm of the couch to go back to sleep when a piece of your hair suddenly yanked. You thought it must’ve just been caught under your shoulder or her arm, it had been lose earlier, but Emily made a small noise.

“Sorry…” She winced and when you rolled your head back to look up at her she had a sheepish grin on her face and the ends of half your hair in her hands. “I got fidgety, needed something to occupy my hands.”

You let out a small laugh, carefully shifting so you were sitting at a better angle for her to continue the braid, “I, uh.. kinda wanted to ask if you would do it anyways but I thought that might we weird or something.”

“Not weird at all.” She assured, “as long as you waking up to some weirdo braiding your hair wasn’t weird.”

“You’re not a weirdo. If I woke up to Tony doing it, I’d kick him out.” Your body relaxed into her legs, “and.. for the sake of you not doing it, undoing it and doing it over a million times, the pink basket under the table has fidget toys.”

“You have a collection?” She asked, genuinely curious.

“Heather started buying them for me because I kept fidgeting with and breaking her super fancy expensive pens.” You explained and she laughed, “and I’m not allowed to have clicky pens at important meetings anymore.”

“Such a strict boss.” She teased, her fingers softly tickling at the back of your neck, pulling a shiver from you before she dug around for an elastic to finish the first braid.

The afternoon continued much like the morning had, half watching shows, mild chit chat, cuddling and dozing as the skies turned grey and the rain started. The next time you woke up the sun was completely gone from the sky and the side Emily had been pressed into was cold. You were going to just wait a minute, let your brain realize what you were even watching when you heard the tell tale sounds of your pantry drawers being slid open and shut. With a yawn, you pushed up to sitting, looking into the kitchen over the back of the couch.

“Hungry?” You asked and Emily nearly jumped, letting out a small laugh as she stilled.

“Me? Your stomach was making volcano noises so loud I’m surprised you didn’t wake yourself up.”

“We can just order.” You offered and she waved you off.

“Nah. I think I’ve got everything I need I was just looking for your spices.”

“Small cupboard, top right by the stove.” You replied, watching for a minute as she pulled it open and plucked through them, picking out a couple.

Curiosity got the best of you and you stretched out your limbs, a few of them cracking, achy muscles finally feeling relief as you moved off the couch and padded into the kitchen. Your arm snagged around Emily’s waist and you pressed a soft kiss into her shoulder.

“Thank you.”

“Anytime, and hey, we were both hungry and you were asleep. I figured the best thing I could do was snoop.”

“You want wine?” You asked.

“Please.”

Moving seamless through the room around each other you pulled down a couple of glasses, grabbing a handful of ice from the freezer for her glass before you popped a bottle of white, filling one up and sliding it over to her. You opted for red yourself, sliding the white into the fridge and the malbec back into the wine rack before you hoisted yourself up onto the corner of the counter. A happy hum left your lips when you took your first sip of wine, your body relaxing as you watched Emily move through the kitchen.

Every so often she had to ask you where a specific pan or utensil was but otherwise she had everything covered. She would never say that she was a particular whiz in the kitchen, but she could get a pretty good handle down on things, alter recipes to simplify them to what was on hand and go from there. The television was still going in the background, giving some background noise to the experience when the two of you weren’t talking.

You watched with a small smile as Emily popped two butterflied chicken breasts, coated with shake and bake into the oven. She turned back to the island, where she had pulled out all her supplies so she wouldn’t forget anything, glancing through them until she found the jar of pasta sauce.

“You have garlic?” She asked, raising a brow toward you, breaking herself out of her zone. She caught you half staring at her, hiding behind the rim of your glass and instantly felt the heat creeping up the back of her neck.

“Yeah.” You smiled, “powder’s in the spice cupboard, fresh is on top of the microwave.”

She chose the fresh garlic, swiftly crushing it and doing her best at mincing it up before tossing into a pan with some onion and oil.

“You want a hand?” You asked and with an almost shy smile she shook her head.

“Nah. I’m cooking for you; you just sit there and look pretty.”

“The hardest job of them all.” You mocked, a small laugh escaping your lips and Emily felt the blush creeping into her cheeks again.

Twenty minutes later and she was plating up a semi makeshift chicken parm for the two of you, spices added into the jarred sauce, and working with whatever cheese was in your fridge, but it smelt and looked delicious. You refilled both of your wine glasses, settling at the island to eat, groaning over how tasty it was. You teased Emily for never having cooked for you before, saying she was locked in and trapped now. She laughed, a glittering in her eye as she glanced over to you, a warmth blooming through her chest at the way you were looking at her.

Since Emily had cooked you ushered her away when she tried to help with the dishes, filling up her wine glass once more and pressing a soft kiss to her cheek. With the kitchen clean, you flicked the overhead light off, scooping up your wine glass as you crossed back to the living room.

“Think you’ve got a movie in you?” You asked, noticing the way she was flicking through options on the screen.

“Yeah.” She looked up to you, shifting your preferred blanket out of your way so you could take your place beside her on the couch. “Figured I’ve got at least that much left before bed.”

“Did you want to stay?” You asked, tucking yourself under the blanket and nuzzling into her side.

Her scrolling through the app paused momentarily before it continued, “yeah. If that’s okay.”

“It’s perfect.”

**

Tony had been relentlessly bugging you for lunch, dinner, coffee, any kind of hangout since discovering you in Emily’s office. Knowing that he was likely going to press into things you didn’t really want to get into in public you’d finally said that as long as he brought takeout and a bottle of wine he could come over Thursday night. You’d picked through dinner at the kitchen island while you caught up, Tony surprisingly holding back while he listened about your vacation (that you held back plenty of details on) and he took some time to vent about the current NCIS/BAU case that was still open and struggling to move anywhere.

Eventually you dragged him and a fresh bottle of wine upstairs. All of the shopping trips over the past few months had your closets overflowing a bit too much for you liking and you wanted to get a head start on some spring cleaning. Your attention was mainly on pulling things out of your closet as Tony poked around your room as per usual.

“You know, if you know any FBI secrets, you should probably let me in on them.” He started, “I am an agent of the law after all.”

You nearly snorted, rolling your eyes and continued to ignore him.

“I mean, at the very least, should I think about switching departments? You think an SSA gets a better paycheque than us?  I could probably put in for a pretty smooth transfer after this case closes…”

“You’d never do that to Gibbs.” You interrupted, breaking off his train of rambling, “and Emily has family money, the job didn’t make her rich.”

Tony had been your friend for long enough that he didn’t need to be a profiler, hell he didn’t even need to be a special agent to pick up on the way your eyes lit up when you said Emily’s name. How you couldn’t seem to control your smile when you told him stories about the Maldives with a far off look in your eyes that you didn’t even register yourself. He wanted to know more, he wanted to know everything, but he knew you weren’t just going to share it all at the drop of a hat, when it came to things like this, and planting the seeds he wanted to, he had to tread carefully. Even if the seeds had already been growing for weeks already.

“So..” he leant back into an armchair, crossing his arms behind his head, “tell me more about Emily.”

You cast him a look over your shoulder as you tossed another dress into the donation pile, “I already told you; we enjoy our time together. I’ve expanded my repertoire of fancy restaurants in DC, could probably compile a list for you. You want it in order of cost, food quality or first date to proposal?”

“Please,” he teasingly scoffed, “the food is the last thing I’m interested to hear about from your dates.”

“You know I don’t kiss and tell Tony.” You threw a balled up shirt at his face, “especially considering she’s currently your co-commanding officer. I don’t need you looking at her and knowing what she’s into, gross.”

“As entertaining as that might be…” he straightened out the shirt, folding it before adding it to the donation pile, “I was more curious about the other side of things. I mean… this is the longest you’ve been with someone in a few years.”

He caught the way your hands faltered, the dress in your hands nearly slipping off the hanger before you caught yourself, straightening it to return into the closet.

“Trust me, it’s not like that.” Laughing, you turned back to him, hands crossed over your chest, “She paid nearly sixty thousand for that vacation and that’s if the all inclusive comment was true and I’m pretty sure it wasn’t. Then she tried to pay me on top of that for my time. I’m basically an over qualified sex worker.”

“As a member of law enforcement, I can confirm that you aren’t.” He replied, his hand reaching out as he started to fiddle with the jewelry stand on your dresser, “and if you were, the woman running an entire unit of the FBI wouldn’t be so happily enjoying it. It would be all secrets, dark hotel rooms and NDA’s.”

“Tony, lay off it.” You replied with a huff, turning back to your closet, “I already told you; I don’t have time to date.”

“You spent Sunday night with her,” he offered, “you’re hanging out with me right now. You even had enough time to swing by her office, which is in an entirely different district, in the middle of a work day, with lunch and you were there for at least an hour. Seems like you have plenty of time.”

“It’s not about physical time and you know it. It’s about, the emotional labour, having to be on all the time, getting through the awkward stages, fucking small talk.” Your fingers slid down a plum dress, pulling it out from the row of clothes and you felt your heart leap when you realized it was the dress you wore on your first real date with Emily, the one that was so rudely interrupted by her phone before you could even get a chance to kiss her. You groaned, letting the dress fall back into your closet to be kept, “dating fucking sucks.”

“We’re not talking about casual dating or swiping through apps and having to deal with a million first dates, we’re talking about Emily.”

“What about her Tony?”

“You wouldn’t have brought her lunch if you didn’t like her.”

“I wouldn’t have said yes to being her sugar baby if I didn’t like her. I stopped by because Heather basically ordered me to.”

“So you’re telling me things between the two of you are strictly contractual? Financial and sexual benefit only?”

“Yes!”

The way your heart was suddenly beating in your chest, the worry that was beginning to eat away at your insides was telling you that Tony was onto something. You’d been so surrounded by work it had been incredibly easy to shove your feelings down, only leaning into them when you were out with Emily, as if it was part of the show, part of the sugar baby package. It kind of was after all, the flirtation, the compliments, the making her feel wanted and appreciated, taken care of, it was part of what she was paying you for. You’d said it yourself; companionship was far more than just sex. Even if you had started to slip deeper into the role than you’d originally intended, developing real feelings, it wasn’t like Emily was on the same page, she was playing her part too. Tony was grasping at straws, no matter how hard he wanted to push his fairytale narrative, or how fast your pulse happened to be.

He seemed to be able to read your mind, see the hesitancy in your eyes as his nagging sank in.

“Hey,” he nudged at you with his foot, breaking you from your daydreams, “you can claim whatever you want, but you cannot deny there were more than just two wine glasses in your drying rack.”

“So?” Your brow furrowed, it didn’t matter if Emily had been over at your house, that was nothing new.

“There were also two coffee mugs, two full sets of dinner plates and utensils, which likely means homemade, not takeout. I mean, most situations like this everything happens at hotels, you guys stopped that months ago. That on its own is one thing, but your bathroom tells a different story?”

“Do tell Very Special Agent DiNozzo.”

“Second toothbrush, different set of shampoo and conditioner, perfume that is far too floral for you to ever wear, glasses cleaner on your nightstand and your vision is twenty-twenty. There’s a Yale hoodie on the back of your couch which is interesting considering you went to Georgetown and Prentiss has a Yale degree in her office. You keep two spare sets of keys on a hook in your kitchen and surprisingly, one of them is missing. I would say that’s the most suspicious part of it all, but don’t even get me started on these.” His hand lifted up the cardboard backing containing your starfish earrings and you felt your cheeks heat.

“Guess she saw them in the gift shop at some point and thought they were cute.”

“Bullshit.” He grinned, “when you found out NCIS meant time on the water, you were practically infatuated and wanted to know everything about it. I could’ve married you right then and there.”

“Yeah right.” You scoffed with a laugh.

“We had a movie marathon, I brought Splash and Mermaids, you reluctantly, and rather intoxicated, brought out Aquamarine. You love that movie more than anything and you never tell anyone about it unless you really trust them or care..”

“it’s not like it’s a take to the grave secret.”

“You were down in the Maldives, right on the ocean and got all gooey and starfish eyed, that dreamy smile on your face, swimming every day pretending you were a mermaid, that you were free and you told it all to Emily, didn’t you?”

“It might’ve come up.” You shrugged.

“And instead of her laughing it off or thinking it was childish or stupid she went out and found starfish earrings to buy for you and now you have a permanent and physical reminder of the trip and time spent together.” He placed the jewelry back down on the dresser, “I think the two of you might actually have something here and it would be a shame to waste it away because you refuse to talk about it.”

You cast him a look, one only a best friend of twenty years could fully understand without you saying anything and he shook his head with a laugh.

“I’m just saying, things seem a lot more comfortable and intimate than I would expect from a sugar baby relationship. Did she pay you for lunch?”

“Not with money.” The corner of your lips curved up and a smirk flashed across his face as he made a growling meow noise.

“What about Sunday?”

“I told her not to.”

“My point exactly.” He stepped toward you, softly cupping your face, “you’re happy right now. Happier and less stressed than I’ve seen you in years and I want to see you keep being this happy, don’t deny yourself that, okay?” He pressed a kiss to your forehead, finally dropping his hands, “let the girl who buys you starfish earrings and thinks they’re adorable be your girl.”

“Just help me get these bags out to the car, okay?”

_______________________

@mickey-gomez @momlifebehard @daddy-heather-dunbar @maybe-a-humanbean @rustyzebra @leftoverenvy @kades95 @dextur @supercriminalbean @emilyprentisssluvr @lex13cm @zizzlekwum @emobabeyy @riveramorylunar @scorpsik @onmykneesformarvel @inlovewithemilyprentiss @regalmilfs4me @ara-a-bird @inlovewithmiddleagewomen @kmc1989 @irishavengersassemble @hopedoesntknow @venromanova @waitaminuteashh @noahrex @imlike-so-gaydude @wittygutsy @cx-emerald-cx cx @momily @nilaues @borinxnovakxprentiss @Soverign @v3nusxsky @mccdreamys-writes @l4yne @obsessedwjill @asolitaryrose3 @lisqueen @mrs-prentiss @whitewinewithice @d33pd3sire-blog @daffodil-heart @maximoffcarter @i-lovefandom @chimnlex @moonlightjxuregui @chestnutninny @gamma-rae-bursts @just-moondust @idkifimasub @gaydragonwitch @dowsedwithbleach @divergentalwaysandforever-blog @m1lfsh4ke

[redflagshipwriter]

Halfa Cass Chapter 7 part 1/2

Masterpost

“I see,” said Alfie, hands full of breakfast dishes. “When can I expect you to return home, Miss Cassandra?” Calm. Composed. She followed at his back with the empty water and juice pitchers.

She hummed, doing math in her head. 90 minutes on a fast bike, unknown time there, 90 minutes back. “Dinner?” Cass guessed. “Will message again at 3 with updated estimate.” She put the pitchers down beside the sink silently.

Alfie gave a brisk nod at that sensible plan. Approval. “Very well, Miss. Please drive carefully.” He paused. “And do not forget hydration and your sunscreen.”

“Love you too,” she said, and went to put on the sunscreen. Then she was a whirlwind to get ready. Athletic undersuit, first. Pullover mask in the back, a long hood design that hooked back in on itself. Convenient! Gloves in black jeans pockets. Ankle boots, good for kicking and for driving. 

Cass put her flying suit in her student backpack and put her hands on her hips. She looked around. Room? Clean enough. Equipment? Packed. Reasonable projection of needs? Cass crinkled up her brow and made her best judgment. Probably minimal. Combat not expected, companion powerful. 

“Jacket,” Cass muttered to herself, sudden realization! She darted across the house to get it. The green jacket was important. It was a talisman. It was representative. It was a civilian flying suit that reminded her she was powerful and beautiful. 

When she had it on, she went back for her student back bag and then left from the upper level garage. Black bike, nondescript. Mid range price. 

Cass paused astride the bike, feet firmly planted on either side on the crunchy white gravel of their long driveway. She unzipped the front left pocket and withdrew her phone. To Marvel, she said,

🦇 🏍️ ⬆️ == 1.5 h ⌚ 

Then she opened a new message to Batdad. She didn’t want him to worry. So she said,

💕 👋🏼  🏍️ 

The last person to get a message was Stephanie, who was not flying because she was still in medical schooling. Cass sent,

Just because it was funny. It would make Stephanie laugh.

Then she was off.

Cass pulled her black bat hood down when she found the right area. It was day. Many stares that she loftily ignored. The meeting spot wasn’t Gotham or Fawcett. The laughing magician was in dingy small town, smoking and drinking. Captain Marvel found him first and hauled him out, friendly arm over shoulder. Cass crouched on the roof of nextdoor building to silently peer down, batting a little for the comfort factor of bat things. He was still big-man Marvel-lie, but with new clothes. Happy face with torn jeans and t-shirt. She squinted. Same Marvel shoes. Hmm. No budget, Cass decided. If any budget, better shoes.

Constantine blinked up at Captain Marvel, dazed from alcohol but interested in big handsome man. “Where are you taking me, prettyboy?” He slurred. He was a mess. He reached up and cupped Marvel’s face.

Cass moved. 

Constantine noticed her rapid approach and stumbled upright. Eyes sharp, intelligent. Then: dismay. “Fuck,” he said. Very unhappy. Genuine dislike. “A bat. Which one are you?” Disdain. 

Cass frowned. “Hands off,” she demanded. She crossed her arms. “He’s baby.”

“What?” Marvel said, sounding distressed. Ah. He didn’t know that she knew.

“Really?” Constantine said, wrinkling his face up and looking between her and Marvel pointedly. Because he was a foolish little man who didn’t understand facts that walked into his life. “A nightmare like you pulled this bloke? Fuck my life.”

Yes. A nightmare. Your nightmare.

Cass stretched her mask mouth wider so the teeth would stretch and pull even bigger. She leered at him with all her scariness. He looked like he wished she would leave. Wondered if he made good decision. Regret. Regret. I run my big damn mouth.

“Hey!” Marvel rallied, totally missing the body language interplay. “She’s not a nightmare! Black Bat is very kind and smart.” He put his hands on his hips, which happily meant he had to stop supporting middle-aged wizard weight.

Constantine said some curses under his voice that she didn’t know. He fished around in his pocket and pulled out a packet of cigarettes. The rattling from inside told Cass: three cigarettes. No metal, no secret hidden weapon unless it closely resembled cigarette shape. Maintain wariness. He lit it on fire with his fingers.

What? No lighter? Cass saw no lighter.

While Cass was busy frowning about that the wizard turned on his heel. “Toodles,” he said, and then Marvel grabbed him. 

“Wait! We need your professional help.”

“Do I look like I’m working?” Grungy wizard demanded. He waved a hand up and down his body, showing off his sleeveless tank top and tight pants. 

“Yes.” Black Bat took a couple steps closer. She knew this. “You were working. You’re not so intoxicated. You were running a scam for funding. You need money?” She kept anything out of her tone that could sound like judgment, leaving it cold and empty. No-nonsense. “I pay for consultation.”

Grungy wizard paused, looking her up and down. He took a drag on his cigarette. Stinky wizard. He blew it out at Marvel, RUDE wizard. “Really?” He was dubious. “Where’s the catch?” Stinky wizard scrunkled his face at her. “Usually it’s all ‘you owe it to the world, it’s for the good of humanity, don’t you have any decency?” with you people.

Cass rolled her eyes. “Can we cut the-” her eyes darted to Marvel. “Bullshit?” she finished, because it was the right word even if there were little ears present. “One thousand dollars American.”

Captain Marvel looked at her, eyes wide. Shocked. Envy. Small.

Oh. She hid her sudden bad feeling. 

“...Make it one and a half thousand, Bird, that’s a love,” oozed the Stinky Wizardman. He didn’t expect, but-

“Fine.” Cass said briskly. She didn’t want to spend a lot of time on money. She pulled out her wallet and withdrew one hundred dollar bills until she had 15. The Wizard cursed jealousy and ran a hand through his hair. Marvel was fascinated. Hmm. She held it out.

The wizard wanted it. He looked. He really wanted it. But: wary. No trust. Can’t trust a bat.

She let out a disgusted sigh. Black Bat shook the bills at him impatiently. “My Black Bat fund,” she said, in a tone that meant ‘do you have a brain that thinks thoughts?’ She continued, “For my use in-suit. Obviously real money. Obviously non-consecutive legal tender.” Duh.

“Okie Dokie!” Marvel said cheerfully. “We’re back on track.”

The wizard snatched it and stuffed it in his back pocket, hungry dog, don’t take it from me, I need it. “Let’s not talk here. I have a hotel room.” 

‘Did the stinkyman invite Marvel-baby to his hotel?’

Cass cut the wizard a death look.

He coughed and avoided looking at her. 

That was a yes. “You’re a bad judge of people,” she told the wizard, voice full of disdain. “Yes. Let’s go.” She pointedly moved in between him and Marvel-baby. 

[physalian]

“How do I know if my story needs work or if I’m just being hard on myself?”

As I sit here accepting the fact that at 70k words into Eternal Night’s sequel while waiting for my editor for Eternal Night itself, that I have made an error in my plot.

Disclaimer: This is not universal and the writing experience is incredibly diverse. Figuring this out also takes some time and building up your self-confidence as an author so you can learn to separate “this is awful (when it’s not)” and “this is ok (but it can be better)” and “this isn’t working (but it is salvageable).”

—

When I wrote my first novel (unpublished, sadly), years ago, I would receive feedback all over the chapters and physically have to open other windows to block off parts of the screen on my laptop to slow-drip the feedback because I couldn’t handle constructive criticism all at once. I had my betas color-code their commentary so I could see before I read any of it that it wasn’t all negative. It took me thrice as long as it does today to get through a beta’s feedback because I got so nervous and anxious about what they would say.

The main thing I learned was this: They’re usually right, when it’s not just being mean (and even then, it’s rarely flat out mean), and that whatever criticisms they have of my characters and plot choices is not criticism of myself.

It did take time.

But now I can get feedback from betas and even when I hear “I’d DNF this shit right now unless you delete this,” I take a step back, examine if this one little detail is really that important, and fix it. No emotional turmoil and panic attack needed. I can also hear “I didn’t like it” without heartbreak. Can’t please everyone.

The only time I freak out is when I'm told "this won't need massive edits" followed up by, in the manuscript, "I'd DNF this shit right now". Which happened. And did not, in fact, require a massive rewrite to fix.

So.

What might be some issues with your story and why it “isn’t working”.

1. Your protagonist is not active enough in the story

You’ve picked your protagonist, but it’s every other character that has more to do, more to say, more choices to make, and they’re just along for the ride, yet you are now anchored to this character’s story because they’re the protagonist. You can either swap focus characters, or rework your story to give them more agency. Figure out why this character, above any other, is your hero.

2. Your pacing is too slow

Even if you have a “lazy river” style story where the vibes and marinating in the world is more important than a breakneck plot, slow pacing isn’t just “how fast the story moves” it’s “how clearly is the story told,” meaning if you divert the story to a side quest, or spend too long on something that sure is fluffy or romantic or funny, but it adds nothing to the characters because it’s redundant, doesn’t advance the plot, doesn’t give us more about the world that actually matters to the themes, then you may have lost focus of the story and should consider deleting it, or editing important elements into the scenes so they can pull double-duty and serve a more active purpose.

3. You’ve lost the main argument of your narrative

Sometimes even the best of outlines and the clearest plans derail. Characters don’t cooperate and while we see where it goes, we end up getting hung up on how this one really cool scene or argument or one-liner just has to be in the story, without realizing that doing so sacrifices what you set out to accomplish. Personally I think sticking to your outline with biblical determination doesn’t allow for new ideas during the writing process, but if you find yourself down the line of “how did we get here, this isn’t what I wanted” you can always save the scenes in another document to reuse later, in this WIP or another in the future.

4. You’re spending too long on one element

Even if the thing started out really cool, whether it’s a rich fantasy pit stop for your characters or a conversation two characters must have, sometimes scenes and ideas extend long past their prime. You might have characters stuck in one location for 2 or 3 chapters longer than necessary trying to make it perfect or stuff in all these details or make it overcomplicated, when the rest of the story sits impatiently on the sidelines for them to move on. Figure out the most important reasons for this element to exist, take a step back, and whittle away until the fat is cut.

5. You’ve given a side character too much screentime

New characters are fun and exciting! But they can take over the story when they’re not meant to, robbing agency from your core characters to leave them sitting with nothing to do while the new guy handles everything. You might end up having to drag your core characters along behind them, tossing them lines of dialogue and side tasks to do because you ran out of plot to delegate with one character hogging it all (which is the issue I ran into with the above mentioned WIP). Not talking about a new villain or a new love interest, I mean a supporting character who is supposed to support the main characters.

—

As for figuring out the difference between “this is awful and I’m a bad writer” and “this element isn’t working” try pretending the book was written by somebody else and you’re giving them constructive criticism.

If you can come up with a reason for why it’s not working that doesn’t insult the writer, it’s probably the latter. As in, “This element isn’t working… because it’s gone on too long and the conversation has become cyclical and tiring.” Not “this element isn’t working because it’s bad.”

Why is it bad?

“This conversation is awkward because…. There’s not enough movement between characters and the dialogue is really stiff.”

“This fight scene is bad because….I don’t have enough dynamic action, enough juicy verbs, or full use of the stage I’ve set.”

“This romantic scene is bad because…. It’s taking place at the wrong time in the story. I want to keep it, but this character isn’t ready for it yet, and the vibe is all wrong now because they’re out-of-character.”

“This argument is bad because…. It didn’t have proper build-up and the sudden shouting match is not reflective of their characters. They’re too angry, and it got out of hand quickly. Or I’m not conveying the root of their aggression.”

—

There aren’t very many bad ideas, just bad execution. “Only rational people can think they’re crazy. Crazy people think they’re sane,” applies to writing, too.

I just read a fanfic recently where, for every fight scene, I could tell action was not the writer’s strong suit. They leaned really heavily on a crutch of specific injuries for their characters, the same unusual spot getting hit over and over again, and fights that dragged on for too long being unintentionally stagnant. The rest of the fic was great, though, and while the fights weren’t the best, I understood that the author was trying, and I kept reading for the good stuff. One day they will be better.

In my experience beta reading, it’s the cocky authors who send me an unedited manuscript and tell me to be kind (because they can’t take criticism), that they know it’s perfect they just want an outside opinion (they don’t want the truth, they want what will make them feel good), that they know it’s going to make them a lot of money and everyone will love it (they haven’t dedicated proper time and effort into researching marketing, target audiences, or current trends)—these are the truly bad authors. Not just bad at writing, but bad at taking feedback, are bullies when you point out flaws in their story, and cheap, too.

The best story I have received to date was where the author didn’t preempt with a self-deprecating deluge of “it’s probably terrible you know but here it is anyway” or “this is perfect and I’m super confident you’re going to love it”.

It was something like, “This is my first book and I know it has flaws and I’m nervous but I had a lot of fun doing it”.

And yeah, it needed work, but the bones of something great were there. So give yourself some credit, yeah?

[daenysx]

hi I can’t stop thinking about an aemond fic with his girl graduating university. I graduated today and can’t stop thinking about how supportive your modern aemond would be!!

thank you for requesting, angel! i'm sorry, this is a bit short but i hope you enjoy, congratulations!! requests are open

modern!aemond targaryen x fem!reader ♡

aemond watches you take your make up off as he does every night.

this time, it's a bit different. the hour is later than usual, you are a little tipsy because of the celebration drinks but you insist on completing your skin care routine. he lays in bed, his eye following your movements in the little bathroom attached to his bedroom. you give him a smile when your eyes meet, he likes being the person you smile at night.

you apply your night cream on your clean face and turn off the lights as you leave the bathroom. aemond adores how your face looks without any make up on, he likes it either way but your clean face reminds him how safe you feel with him. you trust him enough to create a night time routine with him, it's so nice to be the person you sleep and wake up next to. he opens his arms, you willingly lay next to him, your head on his chest and your arm wrapped around his waist.

"you don't have classes tomorrow." he says. "how does that feel?"

you sigh, nuzzling closer. "it's so weird. i don't think i ever remember a time when i don't continue studying after summer."

"you'll get used to it." he graduated three years ago. "and you can always continue studying if you want."

"i feel free." you say. "and i'm kinda proud of myself. i mean at some point it was really hard like it's never gonna end."

aemond is proud of you. so proud, he can still remember how his posture got straighter the moment you finally graduated. he is the person who has been with you all the time when you were studying, when you were crying because of your papers, when you were finding out about your grades and celebrating them. now, it's all over. you finished another important part of your life and he is one of the main characters. such a nice feeling, he thinks.

"i totally remember that point." he smirks. he does remember the time of your final week during your last semester at uni. it's safe to say he won't let you forget it either. it was a hectic week, you don't remember you ever studied harder in your life. one night, you were literally talking about your lecture notes in your sleep and aemond had the pleasure of learning your class.

"it happened once, aemond." you roll your eyes. "i can't control what i do when i sleep."

he changes your positions to be on top. he kisses your nose, your cheeks. he feels delightful tonight, you cup his cheeks to start a kiss that plays with his heartbeat. he brings his finger to your chin, tilts your head back for a deeper angle. you are both very tired but aemond thinks he can kiss you for an eternity. it makes him feel like he's the lead of one of those cheesy romcoms but he can't help himself.

"do you think it's gonna be okay?" you ask him, breaking the kiss. he knows you are nervous about what to do with your life now, university was hard but it had consistency. your every day was planned, routines were safe. right now, you need to build yourself a new life, it's a new chapter. beginnings are always scary.

"of course it's gonna be okay." he says, playing with your hair. "no matter what you decide to do, i'll be here."

"i think i'm afraid of stucking into a thing i'll hate and then never being able to change it."

he smiles, your pout has always been this cute. "trust me, sweetheart, you can change it. if you ever feel like you're stuck into something, i promise i'll help you with the change you want."

your pout turns into a smile. there she is, his brilliant girl. he kisses the corner of your lips fondly.

"i'm so proud of you." he says before kissing your forehead.

"thank you." your eyes are shining, you kiss him as a way of telling how much his words mean to you.

[mitch-the-silly]

VOX PART 2 AAAAAAA

Alright y'all, I locked in today, so it's time to get fed! Flock around!

Vox x fem!reader

Angst!!!

"Can't Seem to Hold Me, Can't Seem to Let Him Go" Pt.2

Part 1

The moving truck pulled up to the V-Tower’s parking, you hugged your torso as you saw them go inside your shared room with Vox. You were taking your dresser and your clothes, your nightstand and your lamp. You were done with this. He’d refuted you and put you at the bottom of his priority list. It was despicable and you hated the very notion of him right now. After all the time you two spent together…  

You wiped a few tears off your face as you called a Taxi driving off to your new apartment. Vox wasn’t watching you right now, he was sure to be watching Alastor. So you fled to your newly acquired studio apartment. The only thing in the small living space was your mattress, the fridge, and the stove. It looked quite barren, but it was a start. You knew you meant nothing to Vox at this point, so despite the cramped space you were to live in now, distancing yourself from him was going to be a new beginning for you. A chapter of your life in which you didn’t depend on Vox. And while it may hurt you now, you knew that it would eventually fade… right?

However, your departure from the V-Tower wasn’t quite unnoticed. Despite Alastor occupying most of his attention, there came a time in which Vox HAD to sleep. Thus prompting him to go to his room. Of course, he expected you to be there. Yeah, he’d yelled at you today, but you couldn’t be too mad. Nothing an apology couldn’t fix. 

He opened the door to your shared bungalow suite, calling out to you nonchalantly, “Hey babe, I’m done with work for today. You want to… watch a movie or something, I don’t know.” He shrugged walking into the suite bedroom. The second he opened the door, he paused. 

Some furniture was missing. Your nightstand was gone and a painting he’d bought you for your birthday was taken off the wall too, nowhere to be seen. This could not be. What the hell happened to you? He ran towards your closet; it was empty. 

Fuck.

You weren’t kidnapped or anything, you left willingly. 

No no no no. Not now. Not now. This wasn’t possible. The only person who so adoringly loved him was gone. At the cusp of his rivalry with Alastor. The love and validation he solely craved, the very little he had… no, the abundance he had which he was absolutely oblivious to. 

What had he done to make her THIS mad at him?

Fuck… That thing she asked him… She’d asked him if she was important to him and instead of replying to her properly… no, why had he done that? Well… he knew why. Alastor. He wasn’t really ready (and shit, he might never be) to truly delve into why Alastor made him too erratic aside from the obvious rivalry. 

Regardless of all of this, he couldn’t stand the thought of having driven you away. He took the first object he saw and slammed it into the wall. He didn’t know what it was he’d picked up until he heard the shattering of ceramic. It was a mug you’d picked out for him. He’d left it on his nightstand the night before after drinking a cup of tea. He looked down at it, the little red letters on the now shattered navy blue mug made his livid expression rapidly morph into a self-loathing frown.

He had to find her. Now. 

He zapped out of the room, checking cameras, asking around, stopping every sinner in his building for information. And, desperate for an answer, he even recurred to his fellow Vees. First asking Velvette, who somehow had no answer to give him.

Last resort: Valentino. Vox was more than hesitant to ask Valentino of all people about your whereabouts because if he knew he wouldn’t tell him and of course, if he didn’t he obviously would have nothing today, but Vox wasn’t going to pass up a possible lead on finding you. So he stormed into Valetino’s tower, slamming the door open, not even waiting for the girls at his door to open it for him. Upon doing this, Vox was met with an annoyed, nasty look from Valentino.

“The fuck, Vox? What’s up your ass today?... Because it could be me but your little girlfriend wouldn’t like that, obviously.” Val sighed, rolling his eyes. He was watching something on his TV, not wanting to look away because of how invested he was in it (or maybe because he already couldn’t see the screen, so he had to work extra hard to even know who was talking to whom). 

“Real funny Val; where is she? Have you seen her?” Vox asked, ignoring his vulgar comment, hoping to seem like he still had some sort of composure. 

“Oh, she’s not in your bed right now? Are you really here looking for the little slut?” Valentino chuckled, turning towards him.

“D̵o̴n̶'̸t̶ ̵y̴o̴u̷ ̸f̵u̵c̴k̶i̵n̶g̴ ̶c̴a̴l̶l̵ ̶h̸e̵r̶ ̴t̴h̷a̴t̸,̶ ̴I̵'̶m̸ ̵n̷o̴t̶ ̷i̷n̴ ̶t̸h̸e̵ ̵d̵a̶m̴n̷ ̷m̶o̸o̵d̶.” Vox spat back, his patience waning quickly and his voice crackling in annoyance. 

Valentino scrunched up his face in offense, “Shit, fine! Ugh… last I saw her, she got in a Taxi. I thought she had some errand to run. Now get the fuck out of here, you’re killing my fucking vibe.” Valentino huffed, turning back to his program.

Vox wasted no time zapping out of the tower, as Valentino called out, “Have fun chasing your bitch!” Much to his benefit, Vox was already gone when he said this.

He zapped from camera to camera, looking through each for a millisecond. He had millions of cameras and he had to move fast. And this he did! Eventually catching a glimpse of a feature that identified you. He remained there in front of the camera where he’d last seen you. However, unluckily for him, the camera was in a hallway and he had no access to the room behind those doors.

He knocked on the door gently, adjusting his collar and manifesting a bouquet of flowers into exitance and into his hands. He gave the closed door his widest smile, hoping to do the same to your face.

“Coming!” You called out from the other side of the door, unaware of who was behind it. You would be privy to who was knocking on your door, however, the second you looked into the peephole. 

You opened the door, looking Vox up and down, “There is no fucking way in Hell.” You scoffed.

“Babe… hey…” He mumbled, his smile weakening a bit.

“Yeah no, drop the bit. Get the fuck out of here, my place in your priority list was left very clear this morning. You don’t even deserve a breakup text, go away.” You huffed, turning around and attempting to close the door behind you. However, the attempt failed due to Vox sticking his foot between the doorframe and the door itself. 

“Sweetheart, come on! I’m sorry! It wasn’t that big of a deal, let’s just-”

“It wasn’t that big of a deal!? VOX. I asked you if I was important to you and you replied with ‘Alastor is more important.’!” You yelled at him, outraged at his comment.

“Actually, I said ‘Alastor is important to me right now.’ ” Vox corrected, which did not really help his case.

“Are you fucking serious right now?! That’s pretty much the same thing?! Who the fuck responds to that question with that sort of answer!?” You spat back.

“Come onnnn! You can’t hate me that much over it, I didn’t mean, I was just… busy…” Vox explained; a half-assed explanation in your opinion. 

“Vox, you little shit, you’ve been, ‘busy’ for months now! Too busy in fact that you missed MY FUCKING BIRTHDAY WEEKS AGO! And here I am like an idiot thinking, ‘Oh, he’s probably really stressed! Lemme hop off his dick and not get on him because he’s gonna feel bad.’ BUT NOOOO! APPARENTLY ALASTOR IS MORE FUCKING IMPORTANT TO YOU!” You cried out, tears welling up in your eyes as you hit him out of the pure frustration seeping out from you. 

Vox took the hits; he deserved them. How could he have forgotten? This is why you responded this way. “I’m so sorry baby… I… you’re not gonna believe me but I did genuinely forget about what days have passed…”

“Fuck if I care, you already fucked up.” You scoffed, rolling your eyes at him.

“NO BABE! Please… just… I can’t lose you, please, I fucked up, I’ll fix it! What do you want? I- I- have my wallet here, here’s my card! You can get whatever you want! It’s on me!” He insisted, one rejection away from physically groveling at your feet.

Rejection which you’d sure give him. “Are you trying to buy me back?!” You replied, stepping back away from him.

“No no no! That’s not it! I just- W-what else can I do? No no, what do you want me to do?” He asked, getting on his knees in front of you. Claws dug into the floor as he looked up at you in emotional agony.

“I want you to get the fuck out of here.” You spoke. Nice and simple.

“NO! Please! Baby! You gotta give me a chance! I’ll fix anything you ask me to! I’ll take you everywhere with me if you need me to! Please! I’ll treat you like the goddess you are! Just… don’t leave me… please…” He begged the flowers in his hand already disheveled and lacking petals. He seemed… genuinely afraid of receiving no as an answer to this question. It sort of pained you.

You looked back at him, hesitant to speak again, “Are you… are you lying to me?”

“Of course not! You name it, I’ll do it! I just… don't ask m why but I just can’t stand the thought of fucking losing you…” Vox replied, still begging on his knees for your return.

You groaned, giving him a look of pity, he… he was insecure… this was the version of him where you could see under all his masks… “Fine… I’ll go back. But just know that if you play some shit like this again I’m NOT taking you back. I don’t give a shit how hard you beg.” You replied, taking the bouquet of flowers from his hands. 

You looked at them, and despite them being all beat up, they were beautiful…

Taglist for this fic:

@preciousbabypeter

@readergirlstuff

@shanksstrawhat

@call-me-nyxx

@vexendoe @luujjvi @ghosterstrudel @sirenetheblogger @farah-o-0 @tinathepineapplelover @vox-simp @thegreathiroshi @futureittomainn @mimikyu-of-death @absolut3lyn0t @chaotickitten91

[twice-inamillion]

The Company

Caught

Angst (major life event, caught lying, depression)

Chapter 9

 2,430 Words 

(The unexpected happened. Now, Miyeon has to deal with the consequences of her actions that might impact everyone around her.)

“Come on, just one kiss.”

“I don't know, oppa. I don't want to get in trouble.”

Don't worry, no one is going to see us.”

“Okay, just one kiss.”

“See, it wasn't too bad. When do you think I can see you?”

“I don't know. The company is pretty strict, and my teammates and I are busy. I basically had to lie for them to let me out.”

“I really want to see you again.”

“Same, I miss spending time with you.”

“Click. Click.”

Unbeknownst to the couple, their little randevu will have long-lasting effects on both of them, especially Miyeon.

“Seems like someone is going to have a bad day tomorrow,” as the person across the street watches from the shop nearby.

The next day, Irene walks to her office after a long day of practice the day before. As she opens the door, she sees an envelope, picks it up, and places it on the table.

Seated, she tried to find an address but found nothing that would reveal who the sender was. She opens it and pulls out a card with a note saying, “Seems like the company doesn't know how to manage their trainees and stop them from dating.”

Irene opens the folded sheet of paper and sees a clear picture of Cho Miyeon, one of the trainees she personally manages, kissing a boy. Many things go through her mind and the last thing she needs is a scandal of the CEO’s upcoming girl group before their debut. Luckily, they haven't been confirmed, and he says, “I need to take care of this before it gets any worse.”

Meanwhile, Miyeon is running on the treadmill when she receives a message. She sees the name of Irene, her recruiter and the one in charge of her group. She thinks it's an update of her group's schedules and opens it, only to get a vague message, “Would like to meet with you in my office at 10 AM today.” Curious, she finishes her run and heads to her dorm to shower before her appointment.

“Knock, Knock. It's Miyeon.”

“Come in. Take a seat.”

“Thank you.”

“How are you adjusting to your group? Are you getting along with your members?”

“Yes, the girls and II are getting along well. We are so excited to debut.”

“Hmm, how are things going personally? Are you feeling stressed or worried?”

“Just a bit tired, but nothing more than the usual?”

“That's good. Do you have feedback or anything you want to share?”

No, the company has been great so far. I really appreciate it.”

“Are you sure?”

“Hmm, I think so.”

Irene tries to hide her irritated expression but can't comprehend why the person in front of her is lying straight to her face. “Then what about this?” as she takes over a folder and places the picture on the table.

“I don't know what this is.”

“Lies, this is you breaking one of the rules of your contract with us.”

Miyeon tries to think of what to say but can't think of any excuse and bursts into tears. “I'm sorry, I didn't mean to hide it. I'll break it off; I promise not to do it again.”

“That's not going to work. You broke an important rule. I don't think this is going to work between us moving forward.”

“Wait, you don't mean...”

“I'm going to ask you to get your belongings and meet me back tomorrow for off-boarding.”

“Please, don't do this, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to cause any trouble. I'll make it up; I'll work harder, just give me one chance. We're so close to debuting,” says Miyeon as she cries and pleads. 

“You shouldn't hide the fact that you were dating; maybe if you told me, I could have been more lenient. Don't make this any harder, I don't want to blacklist you.”

“But... “

“Leave, I'm very disappointed in you.”

With her hands covering her face, she exits Irene's office and runs to the elevator. She puts her hood up and covers her face as she tries to exit the building and make it to her apartment. 

“Hey Miyeon! Are you done for the day?”

“Sorry, I can't talk now,” says Miyeon as she tries not to let one of her trainee friends see her crying. She speed walks all the way to her room and lays on the bed crying until she falls asleep. 

“Hey, Miyeon, wake up. You missed practice.” Slowly, she wakes up from her exhausting nap and sees Rose touching her shoulder. 

“Hey, Rosie.”

“What happened?”

“They kicked me out,” as she begins to bawl again. 

“Why? Who kicked you out? From the group?”

“No, from the company.”

“Wait, let me get the rest of the girls. Maybe we can figure something out, but don't cry.”

“Hmm, okay.”

Rose steps out and heads to the other room where Jennie, Jisoo, and Lisa are hanging out. “Miyeon is crying, she said that they kicked her out of the company!”

The members rush into the other and see Miyeon lying down, crying her eyes out. “What happened, Miyeon?” asks Lisa. 

“Irene unnie called me into her office and they were kicking me out.”

“Why?”

“Apparently, someone took a picture of me with the boy I began dating before joining.”

“Why, Miyeon? I told you to break it off. Why didn't you listen to me?” said Jisoo.

“I didn't think they would find out. I haven't seen him since joining. Yesterday was the first time seeing him.”

“What's going to happen now?” asks Rose.

“I begged Irene to give me another chance, but all she told me was that I would collect my things by tomorrow.”

“I didn't think they would risk separating us before our debut,” said Lisa.

“What do you think is going to happen with us?” asks Jisoo.

Rose, trying to change the mood, says, “Maybe we can talk to the CEO about it and explain the situation. We can say that she won't do it again and will break up with him. We need to debut.”

“I'll contact Oppa and see if he can get us in touch with the CEO,” says Jennie.

The rest of the girls nod as Jennie heads to her room and calls you. 

The phone rings, and you see that it's from your newest toy. You let the phone ring until you get multiple messages, “Oppa, please answer; it's urgent.”

“Alright, what does this girl want?” as you get your phone to call her back. 

“Oppa, you finally answer!”

“What's the urgency?”

“Miyeon got kicked out of the group by Irene!”

”What do you mean kicked out?”

”Can I meet with you?”

”I get back in an hour.”

”Okay, I'll see you at your apartment.”

You get off the phone with Jennie and immediately call for Irene to come to your office. “Irene, come to my office immediately!”

”Yes, sir!” 

It only takes a minute for you to hear Irene knock at your door before coming inside. “You need something, sir?”

”Can you explain why you kicked Miyeon off the group?”

Irene hesitates to answer, trying to figure out what to say, “I wanted to take care of things before letting you know, but since you are already aware, I’ll explain the situation. 

“Go on.”

”Well, I received proof of Mieyon breaking one of the company’s rules. She hid the fact that she was dating someone and was caught.” Irene pulls out her phone and shows you the picture of Miyeon kissing and holding hands with someone.

”Fuck….”

”I called her to my office and came to the conclusion that it would be best for her and the company to part ways, thus kicking her out of the group as well.”

”I thought you did a thorough background check with all the trainees, especially with them.”

”I thought I did, sir. If I knew, I would have done something about it beforehand.”

”What are we going to do now? The group is scheduled to debut this year, and now they have one member down.”

“I’m sorry, sir. It’s my fault, I take full responsibility.”

”You should. Maybe I should disband your group as well.”

”No, sir. Anything but that. My members have practiced so hard, you can’t do that to them.”

”These girls were going to be my first girl group, so now look at them.”

“So what would you like to do?”

”Not sure. I’ll come up with something.”

---------

Jennie receives a text message and opens it, “Don’t come to my apartment. I know the whole situation. Can’t talk about it now, but some more information will soon come to you.”

Jennie is disappointed that she couldn’t do anything and tries to comfort Miyeon when all their phones go off. Then, they grab their phones and read the following message: “All members are required to attend the emergency meeting at the conference room at 9 AM tomorrow.” They all look at each other, worried and thinking the worst. 

“Are we disbanding?”

----------

The girls arrive early to the meeting and wait for the news of their disbandment as a group. They look at the clock hung up on the wall as it approaches 9 o’clock sharp. 

They see Irene walk and open the door of the conference room, “Thank you for meeting with me today. I’ll be hosting the meeting today. Miyeon, if you could head to the CEO’s office, he would like to speak with you.

The members look at Miyeon as she stands up and exits the door to meet the CEO for the first time.

”Alright, let's start the meeting. I’m sure you all are aware of why you are here. I won’t waste anyone’s time and just let you all know that moving forward, this group will only consist of you four…”

”What? What about Miyeon?” asks Jennie.

”She will no longer be part of your group. I can’t go over more details of her situation but she’ll need to move from your apartment immediately.”

“But…”

”Let me finish.”

”Okay.”

”You five were scheduled to debut at the end of the year, but now that there are only four members, things will be a bit different. Your positions will change, and your debut date will be pushed back.”

”Wait! We were supposed to be the company’s first girl group to debut. This isn’t fair!” shouts Rose. 

“It was this or scrap the team as a whole and start over. Would you like that instead?”

“No, “ says Rose as she quiets down.

”This was something that the CEO thought was best and had minimal impact on the group.”

Irene goes on to explain more about the changes that will occur with the group. 

----------

On the other hand, Miyeon stands in front of the CEO’s office and knocks at the door. She hears a response, opens the door, and is surprised to see you sitting behind a large desk. 

“Oppa?”

”Sit down, Miyeon.”

”Okay.”

”You may know me as one of the staff members, but my true position in the company is CEO. I’m here to discuss your position in our company. You already know the details of the reason why you are here, and I won’t argue with you about it since Irene has already talked to you about it, right?”

”Yes, she did.”

”So here is what we decided to do with you. You will leave the group you are currently in and the apartment you are sharing with them. I went over your file and saw that you have a promise as an idol, so I decided not to kick you out of the company itself. Instead, I'm offering you a position as a junior assistant to Irene; of course, it would be that or leave the company itself, your choice.”

“But doesn't Irene hate me?”

“That doesn't matter. Sometimes, you need to work with people you don't like or don't like you. So what's it going to be?”

“I'll do it. Is there still a chance for me to be an idol?”

“That is up to you.”

-----------

“I know this will be a change for you all, but I hope you make the best of it. It's up to you four if you debut as a group or not. Do you understand?”

“Yes, we understand.”

“Okay, you can all leave.”

The members exited and texted Miyeon but got no reply. They head back to their apartment, and when they open the door, they see Miyeon’s things missing. 

“Let's check the room.”

They see the door slightly open, push it, and see Miyeon's side completely emptied out.

“She's gone.”

Jisoo notices a folded sheet of paper and opens it, “Look, she left something.”

“Read it it, unnie.”

“I'm sorry to leave without saying goodbye, but if I did, I don't think I would have been able to let you girls go. I'm sorry for all the trouble I've caused and hope you can debut without any problems. I'll cherish all the memories we've made and will cheer for you four. 

Thank you so much,

Cho Miyeon”

--------

It’s been a few days since Miyeon left the group. The members have tried messaging her but to no avail. They continue their practice, but this time, as a four-member group, they try their best not to listen to any of the rumors that the other trainees in the company spread behind their backs. 

Miyeon wakes up early in the morning and prepares for her first day as junior assistant to Irene. She wears a semi-business casual outfit and makes her way to the office. 

“Good morning, Irene.”

”Miyeon.”

”What would you like me to do?”

”Read this,” as Irene tossed a manual onto the desk. “Make sure to get yourself familiarized. We don’t want another incident, right?”

”No, ma’am.”

”Good, because I will make sure there are no second chances. Now, get to reading.”

Miyeon spends more of the day reviewing the material for her new position within the company. The concept of having time for friends or even a boyfriend is now a faraway dream. Her goal now is to do her best with the second change you gave her. 

Miyeon looks outside the office window and sees her former members walking together; all she can do now is cherish the beautiful memories she made with them, her sisters. 

[redroomreflections]

Behind Closed Doors: A New Chapter of Natasha Romanoff and Y/N Y/LN on Love, Family, and Redemption

Time Magazine Exclusive Interview

Natasha Romanoff x Fem!reader

The Loud House Universe | Masterlist

Summary: Natasha and R sit for their first ever interview with Time Magazine

Note: This has spoilers so if you don't like those don't read. In my free time I world build. So if this sucks just know it was for me lol

w/c: 3.7k

Nestled in a nondescript town, hidden from the public eye for safety reasons, Time Magazine is granted an exclusive and rare glimpse into the lives of two individuals whose personal journeys have both inspired and intrigued. Natasha Romanoff, once known as the enigmatic Black Widow, and her partner Y/n —a woman whose own story of resilience and love complements Natasha’s—welcome us into their private sanctuary.

This unassuming town, chosen for its calmness and discretion, is a stark contrast to the high-profile lives these two have led. Here, amidst the quiet, Natasha and y/n are building a life together, raising six children, and embracing the everyday joys and challenges of having such a big family.

In this intimate conversation, Natasha and Reader open up about their journey of love and marriage, sharing the evolution of their bond as they navigate the complexities of a large family. They candidly discuss one of their children’s recent diagnosis, a profound experience that has tested their strength and deepened their connection

Join us as we delve into the personal and poignant, revealing the human stories behind the headlines and the remarkable journey of Natasha and Reader in their serene, hidden haven

***********

As I step into the living room of Natasha Romanoff and y/n, I’m immediately struck by the serene atmosphere that contrasts sharply with their high-profile pasts and celebrity. The space is meticulously curated, with soft hues and tasteful decor creating an environment that feels both intimate and inviting. All around us, there are subtle hints of their life with children, including the American Girl doll seated directly in front of me.

Natasha and y/n are seated on a large, comfortable sectional sofa, their closeness evident yet subtly restrained. They are dressed in coordinating outfits—Natasha in a sleek navy blouse and dark jeans, y/n in a navy dress that complements Natasha’s attire without matching exactly. It’s an understated coordination that feels more like an effortless choice rather than a deliberate statement.

They sit close enough to show their connection but maintain just enough space to breathe. Natasha’s posture is upright, her demeanor calm but attentive, while y/n exudes a quiet, steady presence beside her. There’s a natural ease in their interaction, a palpable mutual respect.

I take my seat across from them, feeling the gentle shift in the room’s energy as I prepare to dive into the questions. With a quick glance at my notes and a brief check of my recorder, I open the conversation. "First of all, I want to start off by saying thank you for accepting Time Magazine's interview request. It's a pleasure being able to be in your presence and get to know you a little more. Can I ask what made you think this was finally the time to do a sit-down interview?"

"Thank you. You're welcome. It's critical that we show our children how important the truth is and the importance of telling it," Natasha says, her gaze unwavering. "We felt that, now, after everything, it was the right time. I am being honored for my transformation and redemption so of course I wanted everything to be in my words."

Y/n smiles, nodding her head as she turns to face me. "We've always been open and honest with our kids about who we are. We didn't want to have some magazine or journalist telling them something about us that was untrue, so we figured why not do it ourselves."

"The last few years have been... a lot," Natasha adds, her voice softening slightly. "We've had some ups and downs, and we thought it would be a good way to tell our side of the story."

"That's wonderful and I definitely agree with getting your side of things out there," I say. "How did you two first meet, and what drew you to each other despite your very different backgrounds?"

"We met in a coffee shop actually," Y/n begins with a subtle smile. "It was about thirteen years ago give or take a year. I was sitting and studying for a law exam. I was in law school at the time. Natasha frequented the coffee shop but I never noticed her until one day I decided to look up and there she was. She caught my attention immediately. We didn't speak until the next time she'd come in and sat at my table. I was her cover."

Natasha nodded her head with a smirk. "I was on a mission and I had to use her. I was supposed to be subtle but I wasn't and I got made. So I sat with her to pretend to study and the rest is history."

"What do you mean by 'the rest is history'?"

"After she'd realized I wasn't going to hurt her, which was obvious because she was a civilian, we began to talk and we just hit it off," Natasha explained.

"She was the most interesting person I'd ever spoken to. She was different, a breath of fresh air," Y/n said. "It was an immediate connection."

"So you've always felt this instant connection between you?" I asked.

"Yes," Natasha responded. "From the moment we met, there was something special between us."

"We both knew it was more than just a physical attraction. There was an instant emotional connection as well," Y/n added.

"What would you say is the biggest challenge of being married to someone who's faced the kinds of hardships and challenges you've faced, y/n? You're a lawyer. How has it affected you both to be on opposite ends of the spectrum when it comes to the law?"

"It's been difficult," Y/n started, her hand sliding closer to Natasha's. "I've had to watch her go through a lot. The media portrayed her as this monster, but they don't know her. Of course, I don't make excuses or ignore what's in her past. I'm not a person that can simply weigh in on someone's life when it was basically laid out for her."

"There were times that I thought I wouldn't come home to her, but I was lucky enough that she's seen past all of that," Natasha explained.

"She's done a lot of work on herself, and she's changed so much."

"Which brings me to our next question, In what ways has your relationship evolved since you first started dating?"

"We're still best friends," Y/n replied, looking over at Natasha with a soft smile. "Our relationship is stronger than ever. I'd like to think that we've grown up together, and that's been a great gift."

"I agree," Natasha said, returning her smile. "Our relationship is still growing and changing, but I think that's normal and healthy. We've gone through a lot, and we've grown together."

"What are some of the biggest challenges you’ve faced together, and how have you overcome them? Within reason of course," I assured them there was no need to get too personal if it wasn't necessary to the conversation.

"Well, we've lost a child, my best friend too," Y/n said.

"It's been a lot of trial and error," Natasha stated.

"There are ups and downs with every relationship. It's a journey, and it's about figuring out how to grow and evolve together," y/n explained. "So in the beginning we were both these strong women who didn't really understand the magnitude of what our love meant. So we struggled a lot. I'd like to think we figured things out."

"We're working on it," Natasha laughed. "We've come a long way. It hasn't been easy, but we're working on it."

As the conversation delves into their relationship's evolution and the challenges they've faced, a lighthearted interruption brings a touch of domestic warmth to the interview. The soft chime of a phone ringing cuts through the room’s calm. Natasha glances at the screen, a tender smile spreading across her face as she sees the caller ID.

“Excuse me for a moment,” Natasha says, her voice gentle as she answers the call. "Paige, what's up baby?"

On the other end, a small voice can be heard, clear and earnest. “Mama, can we have ice cream?”

Natasha’s smile broadens, and she exchanges a quick, knowing glance with Y/n before responding with a playful, “We’ll see, sweetheart. What kind of ice cream are you thinking about? Chocolate chip cookie dough. Don't you think three scoops is a lot?”

The response of the child must be one aligned with their personality as Y/n chuckles softly beside her, the sound rich with affection. The brief call, though mundane, offers a glimpse into their everyday life—a moment that underscores the balance they’ve struck between their public personas and their private family world.

As Natasha hangs up and returns her focus to the interview, the atmosphere in the room shifts slightly. The interruption, though brief, adds a layer of intimacy to the conversation.

“It’s these small moments, like a child’s call for ice cream, that remind us of the everyday joys of family life. How have your relationship and your experiences influenced your approach to parenting and managing your family? Especially given your background in the Red Room, Natasha. Has that affected it at all?”

Natasha and y/n exchanged looks, a silent communication passing between them. Y/n reached for Natasha's hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. "My experiences have definitely shaped me and helped me grow as a parent. I think for a while, I was afraid to be stern. I was afraid to be anything but gentle. That was an issue, and we had to work through it," Natasha began. "I had to understand what each of my children needs and listen to them. I had to stop walking on eggshells and set boundaries. We had to find our flow."

"But once we did, we were able to find our balance and our rhythm as parents. We're very much a team," Y/n continued.

"You've said you're a team. What do you mean by that? What is the dynamic like between the two of you?"

"We support each other, and we communicate. We're both involved in all aspects of our children's lives. We're both present and involved, and we make decisions together. That's the most important thing to us."

"Do you agree with that, Y/n? Do you feel like the two of you work well together as parents?"

"Yes, I think we work really well together. We're both invested in our children, and we're both committed to giving them the best life possible. We've worked through a lot, and I think that's made us stronger as parents and as a couple." Y/n said. "As for being working parents, it's easy for us to feel guilty when we have to be away. I work corporate now and the hours are much more lax than being ADA in New York but they still keep me busy. I try to be home every night for dinner. We trade off on pickups and drop-offs. We help with extracurriculars. It was important to us to not have nannies in their first few years of life. Natasha's parents help us out a lot. With four adults tackling six kids, it's been a pretty successful journey."

"It sounds like you've both been through a lot, but that you've managed to find strength and comfort in each other. What do you think has enabled you to endure these challenges, and what advice would you give other couples facing similar situations?"

Natasha's expression is thoughtful, her voice warm as she speaks. "I think we are the wrong couple. We would give the advice not to have six kids. I'm only half joking. Truthfully, don't bite off more than you can chew. Laugh sometimes. Understand that your children have their own personalities and lives. "

"We would advise you to communicate. Find ways to laugh and find balance. It's important to spend quality time together, and it's also important to prioritize individuality and personal space," Y/n advised.

"One of your children was recently diagnosed with autism. How has this affected your family, and what steps are you taking to support them?"

"Our youngest son was around two when he was diagnosed as level 1." Y/n began. "We've had a lot of support from the community, and we've found that having a network of people who understand has been invaluable. Our older children are incredibly supportive and understanding. They're doing their best to adapt, and they're learning about autism and how to support their brother."

"For you what were the signs you'd noticed in the beginning?"

"We noticed his lack of speech and the fact that he wouldn't make eye contact sometimes," Y/n answered. "A lot of his story is his to tell when he's old enough. We simply noticed that the way he sees the world and how he navigates it was different than what we had encountered previously. The speech was a big indicator for us. He wasn't necessarily delayed. He did have words later than we've seen but he started talking a little after his first birthday. Then the progress was stagnant for a while."

"It was an uphill battle to get him diagnosed," Natasha added. "A doctor we had seen referred us for an evaluation but then there was a process of everyone denying services simply because he seemed "normal". Their words, not mine. So we had to push for second and even third opinions."

"Once he was finally diagnosed we had to wait and then get a referral. So it was a long journey. But we are happy with his care and happy that we got it." Y/n explained. "He's such a happy kid. His favorite thing to do now is drive. So we got him a little electric car."

"We're lucky. He's been given a diagnosis at such a young age. It's given us a lot of time to prepare and get him the help he needs. There are still some struggles, and we're learning how to best support him, but he's a happy and healthy kid. That's the most important thing."

As they both pause, reflecting on their son’s progress, a quiet sense of gratitude fills the room. I notice the subtle shift in their expressions—while the joy they share in their child’s growth is evident, there’s also a deeper awareness lingering beneath their words.

“It sounds like you’ve worked hard to get him the care he deserves. But I imagine not every family can navigate that journey as successfully. Have your personal experiences influenced your involvement in advocating for children who aren’t able to receive such services as easily?”

Natasha speaks first. “Absolutely. We know that not every family has access to the resources we’ve been fortunate enough to find. And we’re deeply aware of how broken the system can be—how difficult it can be to get a diagnosis, let alone services.”

“That’s a huge part of why we’ve become so involved in local charities and programs. We wanted to find ways to give back and support those who might not have the same opportunities we’ve had. Some so many children go undiagnosed or whose families can’t afford the therapy or services they need. It’s heartbreaking.” Y/n added. “We’ve partnered with a few organizations that focus on providing evaluations and therapy to kids from low-income families. No child should be left behind because of a lack of resources.”

“It’s about creating equity in care. We’ve also started working with a program that connects families with community support, helping them navigate the same bureaucratic challenges we faced. It’s so important that families don’t feel isolated in these experiences.”

"I imagine there are times when it can be difficult to balance your activism and advocacy work with your responsibilities as parents. How do you strike a balance between being hands-on and present for your children and the work you do for children who aren't yours?"

Natasha nods, her eyes softening. "I've had the opportunity to meet a lot of amazing people over the years, and I've learned a lot from the mothers I've met."

The interview continues for a while after this, they are willing to offer more than we thought at this point.

"Natasha, you’ve made a significant transition from being a covert operative to becoming a beloved public figure. How has this shift impacted your personal identity and daily life? Are there any changes you feel are still needed to create a more balanced world?"

"I'd say I'm more grounded. My priorities are my family, and I've made peace with who I was," Natasha said.

"What has been the most challenging aspect of your reformation, and what have you learned about yourself through this process?"

"Honestly, learning to be comfortable in my own skin," Natasha replied, her tone thoughtful. "I spent so many years trying to run away from who I was, and now I'm learning how to accept myself for who I am. It's a process, and it's not always easy, but it's worth it."

"Do you see yourself as a different person today than you were a few years ago? It's really a task to go from Avenger and spy to mother and housewife. If so, how would you describe those changes, and what role have your personal experiences played in shaping them?"

“Absolutely, I’m a different person now,” Natasha said, her gaze thoughtful. “The shift from a life of constant action and secrecy to one focused on family and personal growth has been profound. I’ve gone from being a figure in the shadows to someone who finds joy in the simplicity of daily life. The experiences I’ve had, both the triumphs and the struggles, have shaped me into someone who values authenticity and connection over secrecy and solitude.”

“It’s been a journey of rediscovering who Natasha is beyond her past roles. I’ve seen her grow into someone who truly cherishes family life and finds purpose in being present. The transformation hasn’t been easy, but it’s been incredibly rewarding.”

As Natasha finishes her thought, there’s a brief silence, the weight of her words hanging in the air. Her transformation has clearly been a deeply personal journey, but it's one that also impacts the life she and Y/n have built together.

“Your personal growth is so evident, and it's clear that family plays a huge role in that. Speaking of family, you’ve chosen to live in a nondescript town for safety reasons. How has this decision affected your family life and your sense of community?”

Natasha and Y/n exchange a quick look, both understanding the unique circumstances that brought them to this quiet, unassuming place.

“It’s been a big adjustment, honestly. We chose this town because it offers us a level of privacy and security that’s hard to come by, given Natasha’s past and our family’s unique needs.”

Natasha: “At first, it was difficult. I mean, going from the world we knew—constantly on the move, always in high-pressure situations—to a quiet, suburban life was a huge shift,” she admitted, her expression softening. “But it’s given us a chance to just... breathe. To focus on our kids and our life together without the constant worry of the spotlight or danger.”

“And as for the sense of community, it’s been surprisingly strong. People here don’t pry. They respect our privacy, but they’ve been incredibly supportive. Our children are growing up with a sense of normalcy that we never really had back in New York."

“It sounds like this decision has given you a lot—both the space to focus on your family and a deeper connection to your community. Looking ahead, what are your goals and aspirations for your family and your individual careers?” I commented.

“For our family, I think the biggest goal is to continue creating a stable, loving environment for our kids. We want them to grow up feeling safe, supported, and like they can be whoever they want to be. We’ve faced so many challenges together, but our focus is on moving forward as a unit.”

“Yeah, it’s all about giving them the opportunities we didn’t have growing up. Whether that’s through education, or just being there for them every day. As for careers, I’m still figuring it out, honestly,” Natasha added with a laugh. “I’ve spent most of my life doing one thing, and now that chapter’s closed. But I’m not in a rush. I’m more focused on being present for the kids, supporting Y/n, and maybe finding ways to give back—whether through advocacy or community work.”

“I’m continuing with my legal work, but the focus is more on balancing that with family. We’ve talked about doing more together, maybe starting a foundation to support families with children who need additional services, like our son. That’s something we’re both passionate about.”

Natasha: “We’ve both changed so much over the years, and I think our goals have evolved too. Right now, it’s about keeping our family grounded and finding meaningful ways to contribute to the world.”

As our conversation wound down, Natasha and Y/n shared a look that spoke volumes—an unspoken understanding that their lives, once dominated by secrecy and survival, had shifted into something more tender, more hopeful. They thanked me for the thoughtful questions, and I couldn't help but admire the quiet strength that radiated between them. It was clear that their bond had weathered many storms and that their family was the center of everything they did.

As I left their nondescript home, nestled safely away from the chaos that defined much of Natasha’s earlier years, I couldn’t help but think of the millions of fans who’ve followed her journey from mysterious spy to dedicated mother and advocate. Online, the love for Natasha and Y/n is as strong as it is in person, with fans showing unwavering support for their family.

On Twitter, the response to their candidness in interviews like this one is overwhelming:

@MarvelFanGirl99: “Natasha Romanoff’s transformation is so inspiring. From Avenger to mom of six? She’s proof you can rebuild your life no matter where you start. #RoleModel”*

@JusticeForNatasha: “Hearing Natasha talk about her family is everything. She deserves all the happiness in the world after everything she’s been through. So proud of her! ❤️ #StrongMom”*

@YNatasha4Life: “Y/n and Natasha are the definition of power couple goals. The way they’ve built a life together and support each other? I’m emotional. #LoveWins”*

@AutismAdvocates: *“Kudos to Natasha and Y/n for speaking openly about their son’s autism diagnosis. Representation matters, and their advocacy for services is so important. #Awareness”*

[mymoodwriting]

Royal Blood

Female!Reader x Alpha!Seonghwa

Genre: A/B/O, Royalty

Warning: Minor Self-Harm, Starvation, Depression, Anxiety, Isolation, Loneliness, Frustration, A/B/O Dynamics, Suppressants, Scent Blockers, Trespassing, Abuse, Gossip, Rumors

Words: 6.6K

Chapter Two

(Prev//Next) (@starillusion13 @yizhou-time @hannahdinse8)

Prompt: You were a princess in name alone. Unable to perform any of the duties that come with the title. It seemed to be your destiny to live a quiet life. That is until you met someone who refused to see you silenced. Perhaps your fate was wrong all along.

A/N: A second chapter so soon, to properly set up the story...

“That insolent little girl!”

Yunho was heading to his library one morning when he heard his mother’s voice. It didn’t sound good, and soon enough he saw his mother with her entourage storming in a familiar direction. Yunho quickly moved to intervene, stopping his mother in her tracks.

“Mother, what’s wrong? It’s far too early in the day for you to be upset like this.”

“The princess is being difficult this morning. She’s refusing to take her medicine.” The Queen sighed. “This is a first for her, but unacceptable nonetheless.”

“Mother, take a deep breath. I will go speak to my sister and take care of this, alright?”

“No, I should do it myself. You shouldn’t be bothered with such trivial matters.”

“It’s alright, mother. I haven’t paid her a visit in a while, so this is the perfect opportunity. Consider the matter resolved.”

“Alright, but do let me know if she causes trouble.”

“Of course, mother.”

Yunho bowed before making his way to his sister’s quarters. He stood outside for a moment. It really had been a while since he last came to visit. In that time things had changed, but at the center of it all the princess was still his younger sister. His arrival was announced and he entered to find a rather unique sight before him. You were lying in bed, hidden under the covers, your breakfast untouched, as was the medicine on your table. Yunho carefully moved it all aside, kneeling next to you and gently pulling back the covers. He could see you were actually fully dressed, and your eyes were red and puffy from crying.

“Y/n, what happened? What’s going on?”

“It’s nothing…”

“I don’t believe that.”

Yunho pulled you up, but he could soon see that you were avoiding his gaze. You looked awful, and he had to know why. This need to make things better for you was rooted deep inside him, and he’s had it all his life.

“Mother was on her way here when she heard you were refusing to take your medicine, why is that?”

“I don’t want it… there’s no point…”

“What are you talking about? I know I haven’t seen you much lately but…”

The situation suddenly dawned on Yunho. Your room was untouched despite you being present, bits of dust starting to build up. Not to mention your clothes weren’t just from this morning, but the smell they gave off revealed you hadn’t changed for at least a day. Bits of your actual scent were seeping through and he had to calm himself. Now that he was really getting a good look at you he could see just how dreadful you truly looked. Yunho reached up to grab your chin, gently encouraging you to meet his gaze. Despite being familiar with your eyes, he could clearly notice the lack of a spark in them now.

“Y/n, what is going on here?”

“I’m-”

“Do not lie to me… please.”

“… I’m not hungry… that’s all… and I-”

“Y/n.”

You closed your eyes, unable to face Yunho. “The Queen has forbidden me from leaving my quarters unless summoned… since I’m not allowed to leave… I see no reason in bothering with food… or my medicine… I’m very much dead to the world… things would be better off if I truly was…”

“That is enough. Do not talk like that.”

“Yunho, just go.” You pleaded, opening your eyes. “You have more important things to worry about right now.”

“Do you think you’re not important to me? You’re my sister, you’re my responsibility.”

“I’m just a burden to everyone in the palace. You’d surely be studying right now if not for me… I’m sorry…”

“You have nothing to apologize for. I’ll speak with mother about-”

“Don’t!” You grabbed Yunho’s hand. “Not a word about this to the Queen.”

“Y/n-”

“You’ll make things worse… Yunho, please…”

“There’s no reason for you to be locked up here.”

“Yes there is… I keep causing trouble… and the last thing I should be is a concern of yours… you’re going to be king someday soon, you need to focus on that…”

“How could I possibly do that knowing my sister is unhappy and not looking after herself? Hm?”

“I… I’m sorry…”

“Stop apologizing. If you really want me to stop worrying about you, I need to know you’re okay.”

Yunho brought over your breakfast, grabbing the utensils and holding out some food for you. He gestured for you to eat, and after a moment you caved. He fed you until everything was gone, bringing over your medicine.

“You told me you wanted to live long enough to see me marry and become king, and I want you to live much longer than that. Neither of us can keep our word if you don’t take your medicine and look after your health. So please, drink.”

You met Yunho’s gaze for a moment before taking the medicine. A familiar bitter taste landed on your tongue, but you drank every last drop. Yunho reached over to pet your head, happy to see you doing the right thing.

“You’re not gonna cause any more trouble are you?”

“No! No, not-”

Yunho quickly realized his poor choice of words, placing his hands on your shoulders and hushing you, offering you a smile.

“I meant, you won’t make me worry again, right? You’ll eat and take your medicine, promise?”

“I promise.” You stated. “Just… please don’t question the Queen about my situation… I have plenty to do in my quarters… I’ll be fine… and I won’t worry you anymore…”

“Y/n-”

“Please… I don’t want to be a burden to you…”

Yunho sighed. “You’re not a burden, and I shall let this go for now. I’ll come see you again later today.”

“Thank you. I’ll await your visit then.”

Yunho felt better about the whole situation, petting your head one last time before getting up. Although he lingered for a moment longer.

“Y/n.”

“Yes?”

“When I’m king… things will be different… I promise.”

“What do you mean?”

“Have some faith, and trust me.”

“I always trust you.”

“Thank you.”

♦♦♥♦♦

You honestly felt awful for having worried your brother. You should have known word would spread to him eventually, and he would surely come by to see you. Making him worry about you really was the last thing you wanted to do, so that meant you had to get up. You had to live properly in order for him to focus on the important things. You couldn’t be a reason why he struggled to be king. 

For the last few days you had just been rotting away in bed. Slowly losing your appetite, but it was rather amusing it all came back to you with a simple visit from your brother. You opened up your window, letting the sunlight and fresh air in. The day was a bit gloomy, but you couldn’t let your emotions mimic it. After cleaning up and getting dressed you stepped out into your little garden, along with some paper and paints. It would have been nice if the sun was out, but it was better to take things slow. 

Just because this place was your prison, it didn’t mean you had to be a prisoner. You still had some freedom and Yunho’s words really ignited something inside of you. Despite being the Crown Prince you knew he was still at the mercy of the King and Queen, so he couldn’t do much for you. Yet he expressed to you his desire for change and that was enough to give you hope. So you told yourself to do your best and live well, for his sake.

♦♦♥♦♦

“Jongho.”

“Yes, your highness?”

“Ask Yeosang to stop by princess’ quarters today. I want him to examine her to make sure she’s alright. Then find out why she’s locked up. This is ridiculous, even by mothers’ standards.”

“Of course, your highness.”

After visiting his sister, Yunho continued to his original destination. When he wasn’t in his own quarters, he moved around the palace only with his royal guard, Mingi, and his long time scholar friend, Jongho. He didn’t need anyone else, especially now that he would be spending most of his time in his library. Although Yunho had found himself struggling to study. He wasn’t entirely sure what he would learn from the books in his secret library, but what he had discovered so far was disheartening. His father wanted him to remain silent on the matter and truly think things over. The longer that went on the worse he felt.

It was clear many generations have kept this secret, and they all surely had good reason to. Then again, this particular secret didn’t affect them, it affected him. His father had made his choice and would defend it to the end. Now all Yunho could do was consider why, and try to understand. He wanted change, but he couldn’t just do things impulsively. He had to see the bigger picture and keep in mind what was best for the nation. This frustrated Yunho to no end, making him feel like he was already failing as a king.

“Your highness.” 

Yunho heard Jongho call for him from the library entrance. He made his way out of his secret room, shutting the door behind him and meeting up with his friend.

“Back already?”

“Yes, your highness. Yeosang assured me he would stop by to see the princess before dinner.”

“And the other matter?”

“I spoke with some of the court ladies, and the whole situation seems to be the topic of conversation among them and others in the palace.”

“What happened?”

“You know the Queen does not favor the princess, and would rather she remain hidden. Unfortunately a new lord in the palace, unaware of such things, approached the princess on more than one occasion. When the Queen heard about this she reprimanded the princess and ultimately confined her to her quarters.”

“All because a lord spoke to her?”

Yunho remembered hearing about a lord approaching his sister. He thought it was a joyous thing, not realizing you’d suffer for something out of your hands. Now he understood your reluctance to talk about the incident. This was upsetting news, but he had already promised you that he would not bring this up with mother. The idea of you being locked up in your quarters over something so trivial was cruelly unfair, but he couldn’t do anything about it. At least for now. He could probably find a way to change things if he set his mind to it.

“Who was the lord that approached my sister?”

“Lord Park Seonghwa.”

“Park Seonghwa… the name sounds familiar.”

“He is the son of Minister Park. He has returned to the palace to study under his father, likely to one day take his place.”

“Hm, I suppose we should become acquainted. Would you know where he is at the moment?”

“Many new palace officials attend lectures, it’s likely he will be there.”

“Let’s go. I should make a visit as the Crown Prince.”

“Yes, your highness.”

Yunho had vague memories of meeting Seonghwa back when they were children. Considering he was Minister Park’s son he thought the two would become friends and grow up together, but instead the boy was sent away to study elsewhere. He had to admit he was a bit upset Seonghwa hadn’t made an effort to see him first. Perhaps he was too busy with classes, or didn’t think the two knew each other well enough for such things. Then again Seonghwa had made time to see his sister. Although that was a little more understandable.

Upon arriving at the class area Yunho remained silent as he watched, not wanting to interrupt. He scanned the crowd, seeing all these new faces, but even with many years passing Yunho could still recognize one. When the class ended everyone was dismissed, and Yunho approached Lord Park. He called out his title, getting the young officials’ attention, along with the other next to him, likely a friend. Before Yunho could properly introduce himself the two bowed. His attire did speak for itself.

“Your highness, it’s an honor to meet you. I’m Park Seonghwa, and this is my friend, Choi San.”

“It’s been a long time, Seonghwa. It’s nice to see you again.”

“Likewise, you’ve become a great Crown Prince, and I believe you’ll be an even greater King.”

“I would hope so. My associates told me you had returned to the palace a few days ago. If I had known I would have welcomed you sooner.”

“I’m the one who should be apologizing. It would have been better for me to seek you out, but I found it difficult to find an appropriate time. You shouldn’t have gone out of your way to greet me, I would have figured out a way to you eventually.”

“I’m sure you would. At least you found time to see my sister.”

“The princess, yes. She was very shy and quiet, I hope I didn’t frighten her.”

“She’s alright. There’s no need to worry.”

“Good. Although I haven’t seen her around as of late.”

“She’s busy with her own things.” Yunho smiled. “I have somethings to get back to, but I hope we’ll see more of each other.”

“I’m sure we will.”

With that said Yunho excused himself, wishing Seonghwa and his friend well with their studies. It was nearing the lunch hour so he needed to get back to his library before his court ladies came by and saw he wasn’t there.

“Do you intend to become friends with Lord Park?” Jongho questioned.

“Given who our fathers are, it’s likely we’ll be working together in the future. It’s best we get to know each other now before we find ourselves dealing with a serious matter. Besides, I always thought we’d be friends. There’s no reason why we can’t now.”

“I see.”

“Are you worried? Or perhaps jealous?”

“One more person to accompany you doesn’t sound like a bad idea.”

“I suppose you’re right.”

♦♦♥♦♦

“I had no idea you knew the Crown Prince.”

“My father is Minister Park. As you can imagine the Park’s have always been close to the royal Jeong family.”

“Yeah. No wonder you approached the princess.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“Do you not know?”

“Know what?”

“The unspoken rule. Everyone who works in the palace knows of it.”

“Well I’ve been more focused on my studies than gossip. Now, what are you talking about?”

“No one is supposed to approach the princess. They say she’s sick but the Queen doesn’t like her and doesn’t want anyone drawing attention to her. The princess doesn’t even socialize with others. She always stays in her quarters. Except for her walks of course.”

“She hasn’t been on those walks in a while now…”

“Huh?”

“Where did you hear all this?”

“It’s just information that goes around among the people of the palace. Everyone knows, from the court ladies and eunuchs, to the guards and scholars, even the officials know of this.”

“Hm…”

“What is it?”

“Nothing.”

Seonghwa really had no idea about this supposed rule, but he already didn’t like it. He never knew you when you were a kid, but he didn’t recall you ever being ill. All this new information intrigued him, and he wanted to know more. He parted ways with San after class, meeting up with Hongjoong, his personal guard. The two had met as children, but were separated when Seonghwa was sent away. Ever since he was set to return to the palace he was reunited with his old friend, being told the two would remain together going forward. Seonghwa didn’t see the need for a personal guard, but he understood his fathers’ concerns over his safety. If anything, he saw Hongjoong as a friend to keep him company rather than a guard.

“Did you know about the unspoken rule regarding the princess?”

“Yes.”

“Why didn’t you tell me anything when I approached her?”

“You did not know of her identity the first time, so I believed it to be an honest mistake.”

“I knew who she was, Hongjoong, but that doesn’t explain why you said nothing about the matter the second time.”

“Well, considering who your father is, I thought such a thing might not apply to you.” Hongjoong explained. “Apologies. I should have confirmed such things with you first before making assumptions.”

“Hm… do you know where she is? I haven’t seen her in quite a while.”

“I’m afraid I don’t know about the princess’ whereabouts. Besides the unspoken rule, not much else is said about her.”

“Then I suppose I should ask around myself.”

“What?”

“Let’s go speak to some of the court ladies.”

“Lord Park, you can’t just-”

“I’ve told you it’s alright to call me Seonghwa, Lord Park is too formal for us.”

“I still work under your father, it’s my job-”

“You should work for me directly, don’t you think?”

“I…”

“Come on, we’re wasting daylight.”

Seonghwa began walking and Hongjoong was soon to follow. He really did consider the lord his friend, but while in the palace he wasn’t so sure he could act as anything but his trusted guard. The two made their way over to where the court ladies gathered. Of course they drew attention, not necessarily cause they stood out, but because of their good looks. Seonghwa was well aware he had a beautiful face, one he could use to his advantage. He smiled at the ladies and approached, making a few a bit flustered.

“Good afternoon, I hope I’m not bothering you.”

“Of course not, how can we help you?”

“I was curious about something, and I figured you lovely ladies could assist me with it.”

“We will do our best.”

“I appreciate that. You see I’m still new to the palace but I’ve heard this rumor, and I’m not so sure about it.”

“Many rumors go around the palace. Which one are you referring to?”

“I’ve been told to stay away from the princess. That no one should be interacting with her, and she should be left alone.”

“Ah, that one. Yes, it’s true. The princess has poor health, so it’s best to keep your distance.”

“I see, although I don’t really know how to distinguish her from any other beautiful lady in the palace.”

“That won’t be a problem though as she is confined to her quarters indefinitely.”

“Pardon?”

The lady gestured for Seonghwa to come closer, intending to whisper something into his ear. Seonghwa smiled and complied, leaning in.

“The truth is the Queen doesn’t favor the princess. When some lord spoke to her a few days ago the Queen got upset and locked her up. So you don’t have to worry about running into her. I’ll be sure to let you know if things change, but that’s highly unlikely.”

“Ah, I see.” Seonghwa stepped away. “Well, at least the princess has her court ladies to keep her company.”

“They only attend to her for daily duties, other than that the princess is alone all day.”

“Interesting. Thank you for the information.”

“Of course. Please let us know if we can help you with anything else.”

“I will keep that in mind.”

Seonghwa excused himself, heading back the way he came and Hongjoong coming to his side. The lord was lost in thought, and Hongjoong could see the gears turning.

“You seem bothered by the information given to you.”

“I am. The princess of this nation is left alone without anyone to care for her, does that sound right? She’s being punished for no reason.”

“You’re forgetting about the situation here, Seonghwa.”

“What situation?”

“You’ve lived outside the palace for years, have you ever heard anyone speak of the princess?”

“What do you…”

As Seonghwa thought things over he began to see what Hongjoong meant. He knew of the princess because of his family, but outside the palace it was a different story. Many people would speak of the King, praising him or criticizing him. The same could be said of the Queen. Her elegance and beauty known all over. Most spoke of the Crown Prince in high regard, looking forward to the things he would do once he ascended the throne. Although not once, not even a whisper, was anything ever said about the princess. The people did not know one existed, and even in the palace walls she was a ghost. Forsaken by those who knew her face and name.

“So the princess is ill, and kept away from everyone for her own health. That’s the surface level reason, but everyone knows the truth. The Queen doesn’t care for her own child, and everyone follows suit. That is still no excuse for any of this.”

“Things are different in the palace, Seonghwa. You of all people understand the history of the royal family. For the princess to be ill, it’s shameful.”

“Only because they make it out to be that way. Who says she isn’t strong? How can she be strong when she has no one to support her? She’s alone in the most dangerous place on Earth.”

“The Crown Prince does tend to her, although not as often now given his studies for the throne and upcoming marriage.”

“Precisely. Tell me, does the princess have guards watching over her quarters?”

“No. She’s not a flight risk, nor a target for anyone. Why?”

“I need to pay her a visit.”

“Lord Park!”

“I told you to call me Seonghwa.”

“I forbid you from going anywhere near the princess! You’ve caused her enough trouble as is.”

“Exactly! This is my fault, the least I can do is apologize to her. Properly.”

“Lord-”

“Seonghwa. Call me Lord Park again and I really will start treating you as my guard.”

“I’m supposed to protect you in this dangerous place. Your father entrusted me with your care. If you go near the princess and get caught-”

“I won’t. If I get caught she’ll suffer greater consequences than me. I just don’t want her hating me over an honest mistake.”

“Then write her a letter. Ask one of her court ladies to give it to her.”

“No, an apology like this needs to be done in person. I’ll visit her tonight.”

“Tonight? Are you intending to-”

“You be my look out. I promise I won’t take long.”

“Seonghwa, you can’t be serious!”

“I am. So be ready.”

♦♦♥♦♦

You spent your whole day out in your garden, passing the time by painting. You’d focus on certain flowers and paint them as best you could. Your lunch was served to you out there, and you shared a few pieces with a bunny that had been around. It wasn’t until late in the evening that you had a guest. One you had been expecting since morning.

“Hello, princess.”

“Doctor Yeosang, what a surprise. I figured my brother would send you eventually.”

“What makes you say that?”

“You’ve already been by for my weekly check-up, and my brother was here earlier worrying about me. It’s only natural he’d send you.” You offered a smile. “I’m fine though.”

“If you’re so certain then I can do a quick examination and be on my way.”

“Sure.”

Yeosang settled down next to you in the garden, holding your attention for a moment while he went about his usual duties.

“You shouldn’t skip meals. Or your medicine.”

“I know. It was foolish to throw a tantrum at my age.”

“Perhaps, but I understand why you did it. This is unfair but you shouldn’t do something that only hurts you.”

“Even if that was my intention… my brother was still affected by my actions. I didn’t want to cause him trouble and yet here I am doing exactly that.”

“You know he doesn’t see you as troublesome.”

“But I certainly can be at times. Especially when I don’t think about how my actions affect others…”

“I doubt he’s mad at you for any of this. So don’t beat yourself up over it either. It’s in the past, and I’m sure you’ll do better going forward.”

“I’ll certainly do my best.”

“That’s the attitude you should have.”

“My ears are burning, so you two must be talking about me.”

You and Yeosang looked over to see Yunho entering the garden. A smile appeared on your lips and you got up to greet your brother. He pulled you into a hug, which you thought was very strange, until he made a comment on your scent.

“You smell clean.”

“Ya! Of course I bathed!”

“Just making sure.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

“Not at all.” Yunho chuckled. “How is she, Yeosang?”

“In good health, your highness. I wouldn’t recommend skipping meals again.”

“Did you hear the doctor?”

“Loud and clear. I won’t do that again.”

“Good. Since it’s already late, why don’t we have dinner together?”

“Are you sure? Don’t you have things-”

“I’ve set aside time for you. There is nowhere else I have to be.”

“Ah, in that case, I’d love for you to join me for dinner.”

“Excellent. You should stay too, Yeosang.”

“I would love to, but I do have another patient to see tonight.”

“Very well, if you’re all done here, I won’t keep you.”

“Thank you. Have a good evening, your highness.”

Yeosang bowed and excused himself. You would have liked to enjoy dinner outside, but you certainly shouldn’t make the Crown Prince look strange as you knew word of tonight would go around the next morning. You both went inside, dinner being brought over a while later. You told Yunho about your day in the garden. It was all exciting to him as he spent his whole day in his library.

“If you’d like, I could come visit you everyday.” Yunho suggested. “Keep you company since you can’t take your walks anymore.”

“I appreciate the offer, but I don’t want to keep you from your studies. I’ll be alright, Yunho.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. Speaking of, how have you been with your studies? Anything interesting?”

“I’d say so… but it’s mostly family history, and rather boring.”

“You need to study all that to be king?”

“I need to know about the previous kings to better understand what is expected of me.”

“Everyone knows you’ll be a great king. You’ll do well with your studies too. If there’s anything I can do to help, just let me know.”

“As long as you take care of yourself, that’s the biggest help for me.” Yunho reached over to pet your head. “Likewise, if you need anything from me, just let me know. You can always send a message to Jongho if you can’t reach me.”

“I know, thanks.”

After dinner Yunho stuck around a little while longer, but eventually it was time for him to leave. He was well aware you were tired, and wanted you to get some rest.

“Will you be going to bed too?”

“Unfortunately I still have some things to do.” Yunho mentioned. “But don’t worry, I won’t be up too late. So you sleep well.”

 “Alright, good night.’

“Good night, y/n.”

You saw Yunho off before getting ready for bed. Even if the day had started off a little rough, it could end on a better note. Perhaps better than you originally thought.

♦♦♥♦♦

Seonghwa wasn’t kidding when he said he would visit the princess. The whole ordeal had been driving Hongjoong insane, and once night fell he knew where to find his ward. Of course he didn’t come alone.

“Wooyoung?” Seonghwa questioned. “What are you doing here?”

“If you insist on doing such a thing.” Hongjoong explained. “I figured two look-outs would be better than one.”

“Ah, see, that’s the spirit. Thank you, Hongjoong.”

“Let’s just get this over with.”

“Are you really going to sneak into the princess’ quarters?” Wooyoung asked. “Are you two secret lovers?”

“I won’t be too long, hold this.”

Seonghwa handed Hongjoong a bouquet of flowers and then began scaling the wall. Of course there may not have been any guards present, but the entrance had been sealed. It was late in the night that most in the palace were asleep, but a locked door wasn’t going to stop him. Once he was at the top he asked Hongjoong to pass him the flowers.

“Alright. I’ll be back.”

With a smile Seonghwa jumped down into the princess’ quarters. It may have been night, but the light of the moon illuminated his path. He took a moment to look at his surroundings, rather amazed by the beautiful garden he found himself in. There weren’t just flowers, but there also seemed to be some vegetables. He certainly wouldn’t except this of the princess, but it was a welcomed surprise. He carefully made his way over to the little house. It wasn’t his idea to break in, so he looked for a window. He quickly discovered none of them were locked, so he carefully pushed them open to see inside. Then he found his target.

As he opened a window he could see a sleeping form in the room. For a moment he watched the blanket rise and fall peacefully, seeing that the princess was asleep. He almost felt bad waking her, but he was here for a reason. Seonghwa began whispering to the princess, trying to coax her to wake up. After a while he saw movement, getting excited. He continued with his coaxing and set the flowers down by the window. He saw the princess sit up, looking around before spotting the open window. It seemed she was still half-asleep as she crawled over to the window, not having noticed him.

“Huh… why are there- AH!”

For some reason you had woken up at night, and then noticed a chill in the air. You looked over to see your window open and crawled to it. That’s when you noticed the flowers, and then someone right outside your window. You screamed, now wide awake. The person outside was quickly apologizing, trying to get you to quiet down. It took a moment but then you actually recognized them.

“You!”

“Ah, you remember me, that’s good.”

“How did you get in here!? What are you doing here!? I’m going to-”

“Princess, I’m here to apologize.”

“Apologize?”

“Yes. I know I’ve done it so many times already but… I didn’t realize you’d suffer so harshly for my words.”

“It’s not your fault…”

“It is, princess. You can blame me for this. I didn’t know there were rules pertaining to you, if I had I would have been more careful.”

“Like sneaking into my quarters at night?”

“Perhaps… I truly am sorry, I didn’t think this would happen.”

“Well, I’m sure the Queen would have found a reason to do this eventually.”

“Is your mother really not kind to you?”

“What reason would she have to be?”

“Because you’re her daughter. That’s reason enough, isn’t it?”

“She wishes I wasn’t… things would have been better that way too…”

“Don’t say such things. You are a princess.”

“In name alone. I can’t really do much.”

“I’m sure there are many things you can do. I saw your garden, I presume you tend to it yourself?”

“I do.”

“It’s quite beautiful. More beautiful than the royal garden.”

“I wouldn’t say that.”

“But I would. You see the royal garden is taken care of by many out of necessity, but yours, you tend to this garden here with love and care. That’s what makes it so beautiful. Which makes me feel like the flowers I brought are inadequate to give you, but will you still accept them?”

The lord picked up the bouquet and held out the flowers to you, a big smile on his face. You stared at them for a moment, a little in awe at the situation before you. This was likely the first time anyone had given you flowers. You returned the smile and reached for the bouquet.

“Lord Park, was it?”

“Seonghwa, you can call me Seonghwa. Although I must ask, I don’t believe I ever had the pleasure of knowing your name.”

“Ah, it’s y/n.”

“Hm, just as beautiful as I imagined.”

You chuckled. “Tell me then, Seonghwa, how is the palace? Now that you’ve returned from the outside world.”

“Honestly, it’s not quite what I thought. As I walk the halls and take it all in I certainly feel something is missing.”

“What would that be?”

“The presence of a beautiful princess.”

“Oh please, you don’t need to say such things. You just sound foolish.”

“Perhaps I am, but I will say such things regardless. It really would be nice to see you around the palace more often.”

“Don’t hold your breath. If the Queen found out I was roaming around I’d be scolded immediately. I really have no reason to be in the palace, so it’s best if I just stay here.”

“Then perhaps… would you allow me to visit you again sometime?”

“Do you intend to scale my walls again in the middle of the night?”

“It’s the only way to see you without getting you in trouble, so yes, with your permission of course.”

“…”

“Think it over. I’ll come by in a few days. Good night, y/n.”

“Good night, lord- I mean, Seonghwa.”

“Sleep well.”

Seonghwa took the initiative and shut your windows for you. Although you could still hear him sneaking away, giggling to yourself. You stared at the flowers in your hand, still in disbelief these were for you, and all the effort Seonghwa went through just to deliver them along with his apology. Besides that you realized how nice it was to hear your name spoken by someone who wasn’t your brother. It sounded sweet. You weren’t so sure you’d mind if he made more midnight visits, the little bit of company could replace your walk, perhaps even make you happier than before. You laid back down in bed and set the flowers down at your side, staring at them again. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad being confined to your quarters after all.

♦♦♥♦♦

Seonghwa stole a flower from the garden before making his escape. He hadn’t heard anything from his guards so he figured everything was alright. Once he landed on the outside he saw Hongjoong approaching him.

“Everything went well, so-”

It didn’t take long to realize Hongjoong wasn’t alone. Right behind him was Wooyoung and a gentleman he recognized to be his father’s guard.

“Ah… let me guess… my father wants to see me?” Hongjoong nodded his head. “Well, let’s not keep him waiting much longer.”

Seonghwa could just imagine the earful that was awaiting him. When he arrived at his father’s chambers he announced himself before entering. It was just the two of them in the room. After bowing Seonghwa took a seat, choosing not to start with an apology for his actions. He wanted to see where this went first. For a moment things were silent as his father stared down at a book, then he put it down and looked up at his son.

“How are you adjusting to the palace?”

“It’s not difficult to navigate. All my classes are simple, and I don’t think there will be an issue with getting used to the atmosphere. I won’t cause you any problems, father.”

“Is that so? Then what were you doing in the princess’ quarters at this hour?”

“I was merely paying a visit in order to apologize for my actions.”

“Don’t you think you’ve caused her enough trouble?”

“So you’re aware of what I’ve done.”

“Everyone in the palace knows of a lord approaching the princess and making a fool of themselves. Twice. Only a handful know it was actually you, and understand the honest mistake. You are a Park after all, socializing with the royal family isn’t unheard of. Although I don’t understand why you’d go out of your way to see her once more.”

“As a gentleman I should apologize properly for my mistakes. She wound up confined to her quarters because of my actions, she should know I didn’t mean her harm.”

“That’s irrelevant. You won’t be seeing much of her anyway, so don’t waste your time. If you get caught anywhere near her again-”

“She will suffer more than I, and I have no intention of making things worse for her.”

“Good. Then the matter is settled. Focus on your studies, and when the time comes I’ll have you working with-”

“That won’t be necessary.”

“Hm?”

“I’ve returned to the palace with my own goals, father. I don’t really intend to follow in your footsteps.”

“What are you talking about? The Park family have been advisors to the royal family for generations. It’s an honor.”

“It’s a disservice. We study about matters regarding the nation just as much, if not more, than those who take on the throne. Yet we are nothing but advisors? I’ve actually lived outside the palace and have come to know more about the people and the nation than the King.”

“That’s enough! Do you have any idea what you’re talking about?”

“You’ve given your whole life to the King, our family has for generations, and I have no plans of doing the same. We are owed so much for what we’ve done for this nation.”

“And what exactly do you think you are owed?”

“You know what I speak of father.”

“Do I? Is this why you keep bothering the princess? You intend to court her and become the King’s son-in-law?”

“You underestimate me.”

Minister Park laughed. “You are quite ambitious my son, I am glad to see that, but we both know this desire for the throne is a delusion. Is this what you’ve learned outside the palace? That anyone can be King?”

“Perhaps I’d share in your ideals if I had been raised in the palace by your side, but that is not the case.”

“If you think the princess is a means to attain the throne, you really have learned nothing. She is ill, her time in this world will likely be short. She cannot help you.”

“All she has to do is bear a child. A prince favorably, but even a princess would do.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Any child birthed by the princess is a direct descendant of the King, and thus has a claim to the throne. If something were to happen to the Crown Prince then-”

“Silence! What you so boldly dare to imply is treason. I will not allow you to embark on such a dangerous and fruitless endeavor over something you have no claim over.”

“You misunderstand me, father. I do not tell you this to ask for assistance. I’m telling you to stay out of my way.”

“If I discover you go anywhere near the princess again, if you get brought to the King for any matter concerning the princess, I will disown you.”

“I’d expect nothing less of you, father. You care more for the Park family reputation than your own son. I shall take my leave now.”

Seonghwa stood and offered his father a bow. He was certain his father would not rest easy for the next few days, but that wasn’t his concern. As he was about to step out he stopped to admire the walls.

“You know, when I was little I thought the palace would be my home. I wasn’t happy that you sent me away, saying it was for my own good. I didn’t really understand it then, nor do I understand it now.” Seonghwa sighed. “I’m well aware I’d have to take matters into my own hands to get what I deserve. This place was always supposed to be my home, and I will make it so. Good night, father.”

[stayconnecteed]

🪐˓⠀˚⠀the arrival⠀@⠀seven.

synopsys: nobody knew you were going to the wedding, and it really was a last minute decision, but you simply couldn't miss such an event in your little sister's life. your arrival, though, changed the dinner plans of your mother, and with a free night, some of the groom's men decided to celebrate late the new year ahead of them.

SEE MORE.⠀⠀⠀⠀10 . 6 k words⠀⠀skz mlist.⠀⠀monday .ᐟ

⠀⠀⸺⠀⠀pairing ★ han jisung x afab!reader x lee felix.

⠀⠀⸺⠀⠀genres ★ non!idol au, wedding au ; friends to lovers, strangers to lovers, roommates to lovers, one bed trope, oblivious to love (idiots to lovers), it kind of starts as a love triangle but, polyamory.

⠀⠀⸺⠀⠀sunday's warnings ★ first chapter! this is more like an introduction, but still : mentions of insecurities, social anxiety, theraphy - selfharm is mentioned too but no one actually does it - and bad relationship w parents (reader's mother is the villain, yes). also, alcohol consumption, slightly drunk decisions - they still can consent tho. as for the smut part today is male on male action, kissing, hickeys, the usual + oral, protected sex.

⠀⠀⸺⠀⠀author's note ★ hehe. you'll see. this is for the jilix girlies out there (neutral intended tho). i'M SO EXCITED! also, this is my first time writing m x m sex so i'm absolutely sorry if it makes no sense :((

⠀⠀⸺⠀⠀credits ★ mdni banner by @cafekitsune + warnings : if any under 18 / ageless acc interacts with this series i'll block them.

There was no cereal left when Jisung emerged from his assigned room, his mind occupied with the craving for a snack, wrapped in one of his most recurrent hoodies and with his pyjama bottoms hanging off his hips. For a moment he stood in the middle of the kitchen, frowning at the opened cupboard where he was sure he had left the box ーno cereals on the insideー as if the cause of all the world's misfortunes lurked behind the wooden door. He had just woken up, he couldn't process such an important loss when he barely had two functioning brain cells.

He had stayed up so late that he had been able to go out and watch the sunrise on the beautiful terrace in the living room. The jet lag was draining all the energy he'd been able to store up from the few hours he'd slept on the plane, and although he didn't know what time it was, the fact that there was no sign of Felix ーthe door to his room open, the bed unmade, but no sleeping blondeー meant it was past noon. And all he wanted was a bowl of cereal and milk, but apparently the flat where the Bhangs had placed them was haunted and would deny him the option of a quiet breakfast.

It was unfair. Especially since he had made the trip for him, his best friend, Chan, who was finally getting married. And of course he had enough money to pay for all the expenses for a week of celebrations but not for a single box of cereal for one of his best men. It was unfair. Maybe he did have some in his flat, that selfish Aussie. Jisung knew he was staying with his fiancée on the first floor, so he would just have to take the elevator and sneak into his apartment, carefully checking the kitchen until he found the cereal. It seemed like a perfect plan, so he walked back to his room, slipped on a pair of sneakers without even tying the laces, put on his headphones with the latest playlist he'd been listening to, and left the flat, leaving the door open.

Another reason why the situation was unfair: Chan's parents were filthy rich. They owned a luxury resort and several flat blocks in Sydney, where the event was to be held, and had decided to close the buildings for the week and accommodate the guests there. He knew that the property they were in was the closest to his friend's parents' home, something about Chan being able to visit Berry anytime he felt like doing so, and was also where the bride and groom and their closest guests ーbridesmaids and best men, plus other friendsー were staying. That included Jisung, who was sharing an apartment with Felix, the other Aussie in their group, and the terrible absence of chocolate cereal.

That meant that there was no need to lock the doors. Besides the fact that he was perfectly capable of forgetting the key inside, the only people who could get in were people he knew, people he trusted, so they treated the whole building like a big house. Which was a crucial part of his plan to steal Chan's cereal. He walked slowly to the lift, trying to wake up, rubbing his eyes to make the sleep fade away, and pressed the button for the first floor. The ride was fairly short, and once he arrived in front of the apartment door he completely ignored the “do not disturb” sign and went straight to the kitchen.

He had already achieved almost half of the plan. With Post Malone's ‘Sunflower’ blaring through his headphones, every step he took felt like Miles Morales at the beginning of his movie: nothing could go wrong. He had to open the cupboards one by one, because the distribution of food was different depending on who was living on which floor, but he couldn't hide the victorious smile that escaped his lips when he finally found them. Yeah, the brand was not the same he usually had, but brands were different in Australia, after all. And Chan had a very similar box of his cereals hidden in the kitchen between empty cabinets. He scoffed, what were those two eating? Each other?

Oh, God. Maybe they were. He had ignored the sign at the door because he had thought they were sleeping... But his little incursion could actually end up really messed up if his friends turned out to be tangled in the sheets. He was grateful to have the music blasting in his ears, just in case Chan and his fiancée were really, reaally busy, as he searched for a bowl in utter silence. After burying his head in the fridge in search of milk, and getting hold of a spoon, he sat at the newly refurbished kitchen island, watching TikToks with an absent minded air, enjoying the taste of chocolate on his tongue, humming contentedly.

It was the first time he was going to spend New Year's separated from his family. When Jisung had received the beautiful white letter with gold details in which Chan and your sister invited him to their expected wedding, he had accepted without hesitation. They were perfect together, and he wouldn’t miss such an important moment in their lives. Then, talking it over with Felix, he had realised that the ceremony would be in Australia, and that the festivities would last almost a week, starting on the third of January. It seemed like he would have a great time, but he had spent New Year's Eve on the plane, sleeping, instead of celebrating with his brother and parents, and he had certainly missed them a bit.

It was not the first time he had travelled to the hometown of his Aussie friends, but he never ceased to be amazed by the radical change of season it was to board the plane in Incheon, with the city covered in a thin layer of white snow, only to arrive in Sydney, and watch the seaside city stretch its lazy fingers towards the sun in a warm climate. Weather worked backwards there, blizzards decorating the summer and welcoming Santa Claus with a tropical setting straight out of the Caribbean. Jisung had missed the Australian Christmas that Felix talked so much about, but he didn't feel like going for a walk on the beach either. Not yet, anyway. 

He had actually been hiding in his room for almost two days, and he didn't think anyone could blame him. It was a change, and like all changes, he needed time to get used to it. Listening to his roommate share how much fun he'd had in the waves, hanging out with his family on the day they'd been in town, was enough for him. The big smile on Felix's face made him feel much better. And the chocolate cereal was a big help, as was spending the night watching old K-dramas. Startles, for example, were not.

And so when he noticed movement in his field of vision and looked up to see Chan, shorts dangling from his hips, hand on his bare chest and staring at him as if he'd just broken into his house ーwhich was so not trueー, he was so frightened that he nearly spat the cereal onto the counter. He started coughing like crazy after swallowing hard, and Chan ran over to pat him on the back, helping the air flow normally through his lungs again. He took off his headphones, and while the music was still audible coming out of the speakers, because he always listened to his songs louder than recommended, they heard your sister's sore voice from the bedroom asking Chan if everything was all right.

“I am, baby!” he answered, looking at Jisung with a raised eyebrow. “Jisung seems to have choked on our cereal, though”.

“Jisung?”

“Hi!” he managed to mutter, still trying to regulate his breathing completely.

“He is raiding our kitchen!”

“I am not!”

“Let him get some cereal, Channie!” protested his fiancée, and Jisung stuck his tongue out childishly at his friend, knowing he had your sister's protection. “I'm sure he didn't have the opportunity to buy anything to eat yesterday.”.

“If he eats something now he won't be hungry at dinner, and you know how your mother gets if there's food left over!”

That was Jisung's life since Chan had started dating her. Before he was the child, cared for by the elders of the group, certainly suffering some friendly bullying that he didn't complain about, and trying to raise a laugh whenever he could. Now he was the son of the old married couple in love. They were not yet married per se, but they had been acting that way for some time. And he had been the lucky one who had not only gotten the privilege of Minho hyung having a soft spot in him, but your sister had one too, and that made him untouchable if they were around.

“But there is still plenty of time for dinner,” Jisung said, pitifully.

“No, there’s not,” replied the Aussie, frowning. “Dinner’s in an hour and a half.”

“Really?” he exclaimed, rushing to his phone to check that Chan wasn't trying to trick him. “I was looking forward to breakfast!”

“You can finish your cereal if you want, but it's already eight something.”

“Well, dude, you were still in bed, so what are you talking about? ‘Eight something' is too late for a nap, I don't know what...” Jisung opened his eyes wide when he saw the way his hyung was blushing and couldn't help but cover them as he got confirmation of what he had assumed they were doing. “Oh, no, I didn't want to know, God, you didn't have to tell me! What is wrong with you!”

“I didn’t say anything!”

“Your ears are red!”

Chan seemed ready to defend himself, opening his mouth to explain that he couldn't control his reactions, but then your sister let out a scream. He saw his friend's body tense up, brow furrowing again ーthis time tilted with worryー and he burst out running back to his room, so Jisung had no choice but to follow. It was his adoptive mom who had just screamed, and also his adoptive mom who was wrapped in sheets, beaming a glowing smile that had nothing to do with the shriek she had just let out, her phone lit up in her hands.

“Baby, we have to cancel today’s dinner.”

“Do not do that again, please” Chan pleaded, holding his hand to his chest again, feeling his racing heart under his fingertips. “Enough scares for today.”

“Sorry” she mumbled, sheepishly. “But! Look, my sister just texted me!”

“Your sister?”

“Yes!” she confirmed, setting the phone down on the mattress and bending slightly to pick up a shirt from the floor.

Jisung felt really uncomfortable as he realised that he had caught them unknowingly, and that he had been eating cereal while they were there… naked, doing stuff.

“She never replied if she was going to be able to come to the wedding,” Chan said, approaching his fiancée to gossip about the message she had received.

“Because she wanted it to be a surprise” she explained, shaking her fists in the same adorable way Chan did when he tasted a really good dish. “But she couldn't let Mom know she was coming, because you know how she'd get, so she just got to the airport and doesn't know where she has to go.”

“And we just call off dinner?” asked the groom, his eyes widening in horror. “Your mother is going to have a heart attack. Besides, what do we do about the announcement?”

It did feel like he was witnessing a random conversation between his own parents. For a moment, they hadn't even realised they were talking in front of him, too busy reading each other with their gazes, and Jisung just hoped that this announcement they were talking about wasn't a pregnancy. They would make great parents, but he wasn't ready to have a little brother.

“After a flight of so many hours, she's going to want to rest. Dinner and the announcement can wait, as can my mother. It's our wedding, and you know what my sister means to me,” she stated, clearly determined. “Don't mention what the plans were, anyway, please. I know she'd feel terrible if she thought she screwed anything up, especially if my mother had organised it.”

“Don't worry. We can make the announcement tomorrow at lunch, when she's rested. Now let's go pick her up.” he replied, caressing her shoulder gently. Then he glanced quickly towards Jisung, catching his attention. “Hey, Ji, this is your chance. You come with us and we stop at a supermarket on the way back? Cereal's on me.”

Who was Jisung to reject free food?

Jisung had only met you once, but he remembered every single detail with precision.

It had been at a birthday party a little over two years ago. Chan was turning 29, and everyone was nervous because they didn't know how he would take the surprise party his girlfriend had thrown for him - he had never liked being the centre of attention. However, all Chan could think about was how nervous he was because his girl had told him she wanted to introduce him to her sister. Jisung had thought that the sister thing was a trick to make Chan go to the place where all his friends were gathered, but it turned out that you had shown up too.

From what Chan had told him, meeting your partner's parents was an important but stressful time. After all, most people place a high value on their parents' opinion when it comes to introducing them to the person they have fallen in love with, and all you want, as the person introduced, is to be liked. The dinner that the Aussie had attended could not have had a better outcome, with her mother smiling excitedly at him and his father hugging them goodbye. Although the mother was rather peculiar and Chan had heard too many stories about her, he had finally managed to win them over.

It hadn't been difficult because Chan's real problem had always been you, the older sister. The heiress of the family business who had taken the position of CEO upon your father's retirement. The devoted daughter who had sacrificed her adolescence to raise the youngest in the family, trying to follow your mother's strict guidelines without complaint. Your sister adored you, and appreciated everything you had done for her, and Chan knew that if there was anyone he should win over, it was you. So even though his girlfriend had assured him that you were a very shy and sweet girl, the aura of perfection that you radiated when your sister spoke your name had made him feel insecure.

And Jisung hadn't been able to help but feel the same. His heart had been racing with the erratic rhythm he felt before an exam he hadn't studied hard enough for, anxiety bubbling in his chest. It wasn't helping Chan calm down, and he didn't know why it was affecting him so much, but he couldn't stop the choking feeling. He'd known all his friends since they were little, and slowly their lives were settling in, becoming adults, while he felt like he was still the same loser teenager he'd always been. Besides, he didn't see a future where Chan wouldn't end up with his current girlfriend, and while he hadn't found it hard to feel comfortable in her presence, meeting her sister was different.

It was more serious. It involved opening up the group to outsiders, and Jisung hated change. But he had stood frozen as your sister flashed her trademark big smile, raising her arm to wave at you, beckoning you to come closer. He had watched you move through the crowd in your light dress pants, framing your waist with a thin belt, your loose hair floating with every step. Elegant, regal, classic. Straight out of a fashion magazine, perhaps from the section on looks to wear as a businesswoman. Jisung didn't even know what exactly had crossed his mind at the moment.

He had felt Chan deflate beside him, as blowfish out of danger, but he was still tense, his body a bowstring. He had tried to do the same, to relax, of course, while your gaze was fixed on his friend, but the only result had been to run out of air. Then he had focused on your sister, who gave off an infectious cheerful energy, and repeated to himself that if she was capable of looking at you that way, like you hung the stars on the sky, you couldn't be all that dangerous. He knew Chan's girlfriend, and while it was true that she trusted very easily, you were sisters. It was impossible for you not to have some of her kindness.

At least until Chan had uttered his name, introducing him as his best friend and co-worker, and then you looked at him. And the rest of the party had ceased to exist around you. His feet seemed unable to move, nailed to the spot where he had stopped to drink before he knew you were coming into his life. Your gaze was sharp over him, analysing him. He bowed slightly as he felt Chan's hand on his back, to acknowledge your presence and show some respect, but he could only take a relieved breath of air when your eyes stopped wandering over him, your attention back on whatever it was your sister was telling you about.

You hadn't spoken to each other. You had murmured a faint ‘hello’, but Jisung had never gotten around to responding ーat least not using his voiceー, so he had no conversation to evoke except the liquid embarrassment that still created shivers in its wake as he remembered the fool he had made of himself. He had merely looked at you like a child did with a toy, but through a glass, him on the street and you looking unreachable in your display window. At least, he hoped so. That you hadn't noticed, of course, but in case you had, that your image of him was that of a bashful boy who was nervous around you. 

He wanted to think that if he had looked creepy, Chan would have told him, even your sister would have told him. God, and he didn't think of you as an object either, the toy thing was a silly metaphor. Besides, more than nervousness, it really looked like raw anxiety. He didn’t really know if the way his heart had been racing was out of fear or shyness, but Minho had told him that it was obvious you had had a clear effect on him, even if he didn’t want to admit it. He just knew he still kept making a fool of himself in his own mind every time he thought of you.

That was why he couldn't possibly allow himself to be with you in the same car, with no chance to run away as soon as he started to feel awkward. The most sensible thing to do, anyway, would be not to get into the car at all ーhe was already feeling awkward just thinking about itー, but he would have to give explanations that he wasn't prepared to utter out loud. And Jisung would rather swallow his anxiety and pretend to be civilised in Chan's car than admit that he had been thinking about you too often for two years.

The surprise reflected in your beautiful narrowed eyes indicated that you did not expect that the first person you would see when you looked up would be none other than Han Jisung. He knew it, and he wasn't taking it to heart because after all, the one you had sent the message to was your sister. You were the spitting image of bewilderment, your expression of confusion turning into a frown until you spotted your sister behind his back and he saw you flash a smile he had never seen curving your lips before. The sting of feeling ignored cried in his chest, but he understood. You spent your life travelling, he didn't even know when was the last time you had seen each other.

Chan and he faded into the background as you hugged your little sister, murmuring greetings and 'I love you's in the arms of what you considered home, and Jisung stared at the disarranged way your dress had wrinkled at its bottom. You had been waiting sitting on the floor, legs crossed, your suitcase standing next to you, an image that contrasted with the neat way you had styled your hair, the expensive-looking dress you wore bringing luminosity to your face. You were slightly taller than Jisung thanks to the esparto sandals you had slipped on before taking a cab to the airport, but all he could think about was your smile.

The same one you addressed to him with an embarrassed curve once you separated from your sister, out of her embrace but still with your arms entwined, when the excitement of being with her again dissipated.

“Sorry for not saying hi” you said, your tone clear but warm. You nodded in his direction, pronouncing his name slowly, as if savouring it, and then went over to give Chan a quick hug ーno doubt having more familiarity with him than with Jisung.

“Do you remember Ji?” your sister asked, just as surprised as he was, as she led you to where her fiancé had parked.

“Of course! Chan's shy friend” you answered, smacking Chan playfully in the arm when he tried to take your suitcase. “No offence.”

“None taken.”

So you actually remembered him, and he wasn't creepy in your memories. Jisung had to suppress the smile that crawled into his lips just thinking about it.

“Do you remember me?” you said, raising an eyebrow with a teasing hint in your voice.

He wanted to scream that he did, his enthusiasm threatening with revealing the gradual way he was realising you weren’t as dangerous as he had thought, but he breathed before talking, “Yeah, definitely. Chan’s famous sister in law.”

“Famous?”

“Well, your sister doesn’t shut up about you, so it seems a reasonable adjective,” intervened Chan, saving Jisung some time to compose himself.

After two years he was talking with you, you two were having a proper conversation. It was amazing.

“Aww, my little sister can’t stop mentioning me?” you joked, an airy giggle escaping your lips. But the subtext was clear to Jisung, that comment had meant a lot more to you that you wanted to let on.

“Well, it’s not my fault you appear to be related to half the topics I talk about.”

Both sisters bursted out laughing, leaning into each other like two old trees in the park, and Chan opened his car, helping you lift your suitcase and bags into the trunk while your sister called dibs as passenger princess. Jisung had assumed the position he had before, in the seat behind the driver, and waited until you had sat next to him and Chan had started the engine to remind his friend of his promise.

“No worries, mate, I’ll get you your cereals,” he reassured him, chuckling under his breath.

“You didn’t have a proper breakfast for your guests this morning, sir?” you joked, earning an embarrassed laugh from your soon to be brother-in-law. Then Jisung saw you scoot over in your seat with your arms resting on your sister’s backseat, and ask, “Does Mom know I’m here?”

“I didn’t tell her anything, why?”

You cleared your throat, your brows furrowing with worry, “Last time I saw her, we argued. Like, a lot.”

Jisung tried to make himself busy looking through the window, averting his eyes from you two as he heard your sister whisper a fearful ‘Again?’, feeling like he was intruding on a conversation too private for his ears. Luckily, Chan surely had been thinking the same thing, because he pulled into the first free space he could find, quickly parking in the echoing silence that had fallen over the four of them, and with a strained smile signalled Jisung to get out of the car. He didn't even utter a word, just grabbed the keys, placed a sweet kiss on his fiancée's cheek, and joined his friend outside.

“They need time to talk about it” he said, like it would explain everything. Jisung nodded. “I think there’s a Wollies five minutes away, let’s go.”

If Jisung had to be honest, he hadn't actually noticed your mother. He knew who she was, but the first time he had seen her was at the engagement party she had organised for her daughter and Chan a few months ago. She had struck him as a serious but kind woman, who had not once dropped her smile during the entire event. Jisung supposed, in retrospect, that that detail was slightly incriminating, but only if she could be accused of being somewhat forced.

But in the short time that had passed since he had left the comfort of his bed until that very moment, every comment he had heard about her had helped him confirm an opinion that backed up the occasional ‘She’s crazy, mate’ that Chan had repeated in front of him so many times in his fast-paced English conversations with Felix, the thick Australian accent spilling out of every word.

Then he heard Chan sigh.

“This week is going to be hell for them.”

Jisung had never paid attention so fast before, “What do you mean?”

“We knew the wedding was going to be difficult with their mother around, but she didn’t want to leave her out of it” he muttered, as if guilt was eating him alive for sharing intimate matters of his fiancée's family life.

“You've got yourself a very sweet girl, hyung,” his comment brought a soft curve to Chan’s lips, just thinking of your sister's gentle soul, and all the times he'd had the opportunity to witness it. And then he sighed again.

“When her sister didn’t RSVP’d, I totally understood it, and even if it had hurt her, she did too because it was the best for everyone” he continued, guiding Jisung through the streets of his hometown effortlessly. “And even though his mother is probably the reason she is still going to therapy, she showed up so she could attend our wedding. I will be eternally grateful to her just for the look of happiness on my fiancée's face now that they are together.”

Therapy. You could go to therapy for many reasons. Jisung went once a month to help his anxiety, to vent about topics he didn't feel able to share with anyone. And although the day before, the morning of the session and even five minutes before he felt that he was drowning in the uneasiness of someone who has the feeling of facing a periodic exam, although the hour and a half with his psychologist turned him into a sensitive mess of tears and lonely puzzle pieces, that night he always slept better. Therapy helped. Jisung was glad you had that escape route.

“She has had no physical incidents,” Chan said. She has not attempted suicide, Jisung translated. “But I shouldn't have said anything anyway. It's one thing to trust you to talk freely about whatever, and another to share such sensitive personal information about someone without asking their permission.”

Jisung had always admired Chan, but now he felt proud of him, of his ability to keep his moral compass intact. He had to admit, with shameful embarrassment, that he wouldn't have been able to ask him to shut up if he had continued talking. Every piece of information about you seemed addictive to him, like adding emotional depth to a character who had been mentioned for several seasons but had never learned anything about. Chan had just shown him cracks in the smooth porcelain you decided to show as perfection, and now he wasn't going to be able to look at you without seeing you.

Chan put an arm around Jisung’s shoulders, a gesture of affection that he never tired of showing, and he realised that they had already arrived at the supermarket.

“Anyways, let’s go get you some cereal, hm?”

Felix had two empty shot glasses in front of him when Jisung arrived at the Perfect Blues resort bar. He hadn't even looked at his phone since he had walked with Chan into the Woolworths closest to where you and your sister were waiting for them, but when he returned to the apartment with his box of cereal and some more snacks, he saw the notification he had missed it.

‘Hyung just cancelled dinner, wanna hang out?’

Jisung had smiled, thinking he would find the blond Aussie waiting for him in his room, but his absence was obvious, and the catastrophic state of the bathroom told him that he had taken a quick shower after spending the day at the beach and had decided to start without him.

It didn't bother him. Jisung always declined invitations to meet after dinnertime, generally because he felt he was much better off at home, with his belly full and falling asleep in front of his favorite TV show. Often his friend Minho would join him, but generally Jisung liked the quiet of the night. If there was anyone he was capable of breaking his comfortable routine, however, it was Felix. He had been called a simp too many times to avoid acknowledging that he would do anything for his best friend. Even stay best friends, even if his heart asked for more.

Walking to the resort pub where the dinner would have been held had been tricky because he couldn't quite figure out how to use the Maps app on his phone, but once he spotted Felix in the crowd, sitting at the bar but bouncing to the beat of the music the DJ was playing behind him, his shoulders relaxed. Jisung approached his friend with a big smile which the blond lazily returned, and he repressed the urge to wrap him in a hug by way of greeting. Normally they were very affectionate with each other, but the alcohol would bubble up way too easily for them, and that meant Felix would be clingier than usual. Jisung could accept a certain amount of physical contact with his crush before the certainty that it wasn't reciprocated overwhelmed him.

One thing at a time.

“What can I get you?” the bartender intervened between them before they could exchange a word, his accent thick and his gaze soft, and Jisung wondered if he was Chan's cousin.

“Whatever he was having,” he replied hurriedly, trying not to blush. Jisung didn't understand why talking to strangers made him so embarrassed. The man seemed nice. “Oh, and a glass of water, please,” he added. Given the hours it was, Felix would have time to sober up before leaving the place.

“How was your day?” he asked the blond, sitting down on the free stool next to him and leaning slightly towards Felix to hear him better.

But Felix seemed in a world of his own, watching him carefully and squinting.

“You have a mole on your cheek,” he whispered, and Jisung had to steady his grip on the bar to keep from falling over, his palm stretched out on the surface condensed by drinks that had already been removed, when his heart skipped a beat in his chest at his words, “That's why I like to give you kisses there.”

I wish I had a mole on my lips, Jisung thought, but he widened his smile. That wasn't Felix talking. He was just drunk. All there was to do was be patient and nice, because it was obvious to him that Felix didn't have a clue about half the words that came out of his mouth. Jisung had been in his shoes, he knew the lack of control that came with alcohol.

“That's cute,” he told him, resting a hand on his thigh to draw Felix into his voice so he'd understand what he was saying. “How was your day? I didn't see you today.”

“It's just that Hyune wanted to learn how to surf,” he explained, his knee moving under Jisung's hand to the rhythm of the beat. “We woke up early and ate out.”

Jisung was startled when the bartender set down a clean shot glass in front of him and picked up the bottle of whatever Felix had been drinking ーvodka, though he didn't like itー, refilling it at an overwhelming speed.

“Sorry it took so long, but I had to go get it inside,” he exclaimed, to make himself heard over the music, picking up a regular glass and setting it down in front of Felix. “His is on the owners, because of the wedding," he added, emptying in the glass a small bottle of water, which he opened in front of them, "yours is on me."

Jisung blushed again as the bartender gave him a playful wink, muttering a quiet ‘thank you’ in response, and he couldn't help but check what he'd put on to get his attention like that. He'd barely had time to change out of his pajamas when he'd arrived at the apartment, so he'd grabbed the first thing he'd seen in the suitcase lying open on the floor of his room. It was nothing special. Oversize dark jeans and a yellow and black plaid shirt three times his size. Maybe it had too many buttons undone. Changbin always complained because he had another friend who did the same thing. But Wooyoung did it on purpose, Jisung just forgot.

Felix whined, breaking his train of thought, and tugged on Jisung's long shirt sleeve with an adorable pout pursing his lips, “You're not listening to mee.”

“Yeah, yeah, sorry,” he told him, focusing on his friend, “I was thinking about...” he couldn't tell him what the bartender had just done, because he'd try to match them, and Jisung didn't want to spend the night explaining to the poor guy why he wasn't going to do anything with him, “what I'm wearing. Maybe it's not appropriate.”

“You look gorgeous, Ji, don't worry about it.” he tried to reassure him, the R's tangling in his mouth like a tongue twister. “I was asking you about Chan. No one's seen him all day.”

Jisung felt the temperature in the room rise too many degrees, his skin hot and feverish, but he didn't know if it was because of Felix's breathy compliment or because of his question, to which the only possible answer was hopelessly connected to sex. How was it his fault that his hyung was so horny?

“Chan hyung was busy,” he said, keeping his answer as concise as possible.

He felt like a twelve-year-old boy. He was old enough to talk about such things without being shy about it. Even if he wasn't too experienced, the Internet existed, and with it porn. Everyone knew what he was talking about even if he didn't say the word itself, because there were so many ways to call it. And yet it wasn't because of the subject matter that he was acting that way, but because it was Felix he was talking to. And talking about sex with Felix meant thinking about both at the same time. And that was dangerous.

Luckily, Felix was a hyperactive drunk, so if Jisung talked to him about something else he would forget what he had just asked.

“Did you only drink those two shots?” he gestured towards the bar, shamelessly changing the subject, and Felix followed his hand with his gaze.

“Seungmin had beer,” he whispered, as if it were a secret, “he gave me some.”

Seungmin would have loved to see Felix make a fool of Jisung without really being aware, the two of them alone in their shared apartment, totally uninhibited by his damn beer. He told himself he had to warn the poor Aussie that he had been poisoned by a dog. But at that moment what had gotten him high were the two shots he'd downed upon arriving at Perfect Blues, so he had to match Felix to keep the anxiety from eating him up inside at every sentence either of them blurted out, enough to remember his actions but still be able to blame any nonsense he did on the alcohol. So he sighed, turned, shoulder to shoulder with Felix, and emptied the vodka in one swallow.

The alcohol went down Jisung's throat leaving its harsh flavour in its wake, and he closed his eyes to keep them from tearing. He wasn't going to risk taking a second one, but in at least half an hour dancing it would kick in. It always did. Especially if the last thing he'd had was two spoonfuls of cereal. He just had to convince Felix to drink the glass of water. It shouldn't be that difficult.

Jisung had taken a second glass of vodka. After almost an hour among the sweaty bodies of the people dancing around him, the room spun slightly when he moved his head. His mouth felt dry, but he couldn't stop. He had shouted every song, even if he didn't know it, surrounded by his best friends. Felix was glued to him, his hand on his shoulder, their legs intertwined, clumsy steps of an improvised dance. He was having a good time. He thought he was having a good time. He had to be having a good time, because he saw Felix's luminous eyes, the bright smiles of Minho and Changbin, who had dropped by shortly after, and he needed to match them.

He was tired. His muscles were throbbing, he felt sticky, transpiring through his shirt, and the heat was beginning to overwhelm him. It had stopped being fun at least twenty minutes ago, when the DJ had repeated the song that was playing when he had arrived at the bar, and the coincidence screeched through his mind. He closed his eyes for a moment, focusing on Felix's body next to his own, and repressed the urge to melt against him. He rested his forehead on his shoulder, and the soft texture of his denim jacket pressed against his skin as Felix laughed.

“Look, Ji can't do it anymore!”

For a moment he wanted to laugh, as did the rest, at a joke that at any other time he would have found hilarious. But Felix was right. He couldn't do it any more. For two days he had been fighting the feeling of vertigo that shook his heart whenever he was left alone, and he allowed himself to think about his future. He had been left alone on purpose, knowing that an honest look from the groom or Felix would make him break down, because they always managed to make him burst open like a torrent. And it couldn't happen. Because he'd been holding back too long, and to snap at his best friend's wedding would be to ruin it.

So he sighed, disentangling himself from his friend, and slipped through the crowd back to the bar. He tried to crack a smile for the nice bartender, collapsing on the stool, and was able to make it genuine when he placed a glass of cold water in front of him without having to ask for it. He crossed his arms over the bar after taking a sip, ignoring all the background noise, and rested his head on them, hiding from the outside. As always, he told himself. Hiding from everything.

For a few moments he took deep breaths, trying to convince himself that he was being dramatic, that he had to pull himself together so he could get back. But then he felt a hand caress his back, and the comforting weight felt so gentle and familiar that he didn't have to lift his head to know it was Felix. He turned his face slightly, putting on a mask of happiness, the one he deserved, and forced himself to swallow the lump in his throat in an attempt to tell him it was okay.

“Come on,” he whispered, loud enough to be heard.

Jisung raised his head slightly, not really understanding what he meant.

“Come with me,” he insisted, holding out his hand.

He said it as if it was necessary, as if he had to have Jisung by his side, him and him alone, and Jisugn didn't hesitate to take his hand. He took a breath, preparing to go back to Minho and Changbin and the tide of people he knew would swallow him whole, but his breath caught in his throat as Felix laced his fingers with his, holding his hand as gently as he always did, and led him towards the exit. He helped him meander between pairs of friends chatting at the entrance to the venue, and couples flirting and whispering promises to each other in the darkest rooms, and Jisung felt like he could breathe again as he felt the soft Sydney night breeze on his face.

Felix didn't utter another word. Probably with anyone else, that would have made Jisung squirm uncomfortably, even feel trapped, but it was Felix. Sweet, smiling Felix, who had always been there for him. Of course his presence was going to be like a warm blanket on the harshest day of winter. Of course he was going to be head over heels for him.

And as they walked hand in hand, back to the floor, their shoulders brushing against each other with every step, Jisung knew he had to do something different. The alcohol coursing through his system gave him a dose of courage that his body lacked in his day-to-day life, and the reassurance he felt at his side, along with the constant touch of his smooth skin in his, made him form dangerous ideas. Like kissing him, for example. Normally, no matter how much he wanted to, he always held back, fearing the consequences. But he was tired of holding back. If Felix rejected him, he would learn to live with it. But enduring the constant uncertainty weighed heavy on his heart.

He squeezed Felix's hand, smiling, three times, and knew without looking that he was mirroring him. Then he repeated the squeezes.

Jisung waited, holding his breath, as Felix pulled out of his pocket the keys of the doorway. He had to let go of his hand so he could open the door, and he passed quickly as Felix held it for him. He walked to the lift, pressing the button three times, as he always did, and heard the sound of the door closing. He turned in time to see Felix twist the keyring's kangaroo-shaped bead his finger, and swallowed as he positioned himself next to him. It was the right moment. He just had to turn and do it.

But then the ‘ping!’ of the lift echoed down the hall, and Jisung grimaced. This time Felix moved the first, and waited until Jisung was inside to press the button for his floor, with a flashing four that lit up under his finger. Jisung knew Felix wouldn't say a word until he spoke, respecting that the energy had left his body, and waiting for him to recover before interacting with him. But Jisung hated it when that happened. When he ran out of energy, the thing he most wanted to do was listen to him talk.

But it was true that they were both engaged in waiting. Constantly. For everything. And it was exhausting.

“Hey, look, it’s about to strike midnight,” Felix was looking at the screen over the lift’s buttons, where a white ‘23:58’ stood out over a pitch black background. Jisung made an affirmative noise, his gaze wandering over the weather information that appeared under the numbers. “Do you want to pretend it's going to be New Year's? It'll be as if we hadn't missed it.”

Jisung nodded, smiling, and Felix took out his phone, turning it on. The screen lit up, this time a minute closer to midnight, and Jisung saw that the photo Felix had was one that Hyunjin had taken of them when they weren't looking at one of their get-togethers in the garden of Minho's house. He smiled at the memory while Felix enabled the option for the seconds to appear as well, so that they could count down together. They both waited, again, in silence, as the seconds passed. Their gazes remained locked on the numbers, shoulder to shoulder. And when the moment came, Jisung heard the Aussie whisper a faint ‘ten’.

One second, one beat of his heart, and they both uttered a quiet “nine”.

Felix turned towards him at the sound of his voice, his lips tightening into a luminous smile, when he realised that Jisung was following suit. He playfully nudged his shoulder, but returned his eyes to the phone almost instantly to watch the numbers change, “eight”.

Then Jisung remembered the tradition he had with his brother. For as long as he could remember, his family made wishes on New Year's Day, usually requests for good health and happiness between them. When he was little, under the rule of never asking for anything for oneself, he and his brother made sure the other wished for the gift they were looking forward to receiving most for their birthday. It pained him to realise that he had not been able to share it with his family again that year. And he hadn't wished for anything at the time January 1st began, either, because he had been sleeping on the plane to Australia.

“Seven.”

His most logical thought, he figured, would be to wish Chan and his fiancée an amazing married life. Lots of joy and shared memories. After all she had been through, and how hard he had worked for the stability they finally enjoyed, they deserved it. But it was also true that since they had met they had developed a complicity that allowed them to find the positive side of any situation, always. Maybe they didn't need it so much.

“Six.”

For a moment, he thought of you too. About the impeccable version of yourself you offered so that no one could ever make you feel the way your mother had again, and how lost your gaze looked when you didn't have your sister's attention on you. You did seem to need it. It was a difficult decision, because his heart certainly felt like it was willing to lean towards you.

“Five.”

But if anyone was present in his heart, it was Felix. And as he had decided earlier, he was tired of waiting for some magical moment when they would both decide to confess the secret love they had been professing to each other for years. That only happened in the dramas he watched with Hyunjin, and in romance books. But life was all about risks, and he had to be willing to take some if he wanted to move forward, just like his friends did. Just like Chan had done the day he met his fiancée.

“Four.”

Jisung held his breath. He didn't know if the vodka was still running through his system, but he felt more awake than ever. His heart was pounding too hard in four different spots in his body, thumping heavily against his chest, and even trying to escape through his temples. It was the nerves, he told himself. He was facing an irrevocably significant moment.

“Three.”

He reminded himself that this was no fleeting whim. His feelings for his best friend had grown with every interaction, every smile and every selfless cuddle. Felix always made him feel safe, helping him stop doubting himself even when everyone seemed to turn their backs on him, repeating over and over again all the antonyms of the negative adjectives Jisung used to conjure up when everything went wrong. Felix was his person.

“Two.”

Sometimes he drowned in those feelings, as intense as the usual flood of emotions that bubbled up inside him. But then he would look at him, Felix's gaze glued to his own phone, waiting impatiently for twelve o'clock to strike, and he told himself it would be worth it. It would take a weight off his shoulders, whether the kiss was reciprocated or not. He would take whatever Felix wanted to give him, and that would be enough. With him it always was.

“One.”

Besides, in Western culture, one of the many traditions was the classical midnight kiss, wasn't it?

Felix turned to him, phone still in his hand, lips parted, “Happy New…!”

And then he kissed him.

It wasn't the first time it had happened, but it was the first time it had happened that way: fast, unexpected, hungry. From that first kiss they'd shared at fifteen, practising for the latest years of high school, to the desperate way Jisung had attacked Felix in the middle of the elevator it had been more than ten years, but it felt just as familiar as it had in the past. Jisung closed his eyes, like he had once done, unable to think of anything but Felix's lips against his own. His brows furrowed, trying not to read too much into the kiss, to avoid getting excited by the way his best friend had reciprocated it.

A kiss could communicate a lot of feelings, but words were needed to make them clear.

“You’re drunk, Ji,” he said, his chest rising with each quickened breath, pulling his hands away from Jisung's shoulders, as if he had just realised he had put them there, of what had just happened between them.

“No, I’m not,” he whined, falling into the autumn brownish of his eyes, “I promise.”

It would not be the first time he had lied to himself. He just wanted to kiss him again, to feel his hands roaming his body without shame, and if he had to pretend that his tipsyness was not the reason he'd managed to act, he would. Again and again. To him, it was completely worth it.

“Please.”

Jisung saw the moment Felix’s selfcontrol crumbled under his touch, all the alarms that ringed in his head long forgotten. One single word, and he was all his. One single second, and Felix's hands were back on his shoulders, as if they'd belonged on the thin fabric of his shirt forever, moving up to his neck and ruffling his hair as he pushed him towards the metal wall of the lift. Jisung exhaled a sigh against his mouth, no longer resisting the consequences, surrendering to Felix, closing his eyes and memorising every caress. 

The crushing weight that had settled in his chest throughout the night had melted into a steady drip of desire sliding down into the pit of his stomach, a fire that crackled louder each time Felix intertwined his tongue with Jisung's. He couldn't believe it was finally happening. He couldn't believe that the way Felix's body was pressed against his, Jisung's hands on the soft arch of his back, was no longer purely platonic, and that every time Jisung grinded against him he let out that low groan, and that it was for him.

So when the ‘ping!’ echoed again in the tight space of the elevator and they parted for a shared breath of air, Jisung let out a giggle. Felix looked up at him with fully dilated pupils, flushed to his ears, and returned the shy smile, resting his hand on the one Jisung had on his waist to pull him towards the corridor. In a short, clumsy walk they both made it to the front door, and Felix opened it on the second try.

Jisung didn't even bother to check that the door was locked before leaning Felix against the wall and burying his face in the blond's smooth neck, kissing and nibbling every inch of skin he laid his mouth on. It was addictive how responsive he became under his hands, sliding pretty whimpers from the abc of his throat, shivering under his touch, his Adam's apple twitching under his tongue, his hips twitching uncontrollably against him every time Jisung's thigh moved against his crotch.

“Lix-ah,” he whispers, raspy voice, swallowing another embarrassing noise, his lips hovering over Felix’s.

“Hey,” he answers, his loop-sided smile cracking against Jisung’s mouth, unfocused, narrowed eyes observing him. “Can I suck you off? Please, Sung, can I?”

Jisung nods, his heart beating so fast he feels it will stop at any moment, and he manages to swallow with difficulty. He sees Felix licking his lips hungrily, and then how he hooks his index fingers into the buckles of Jisung's oversized jeans. He doesn't need to hold back the whimper that catches in his throat when the waistband of his trousers digs into the back of his hips. Felix has turned him around effortlessly, and now he's once again the one trapped between his lips and the wall.

He didn't mind. It was a position where he could lean on if his knees gave out. Especially when, still maintaining eye contact with Felix, he watched as he dropped to his knees in front of him. They had stopped looking at the time the moment Jisung kissed him, but just the same time seemed to have slowed down since then, his erratic breathing ticking off the seconds. He could only focus on Felix.

On Felix and the darkness of his pupils, watching him from below as if he were praying. On Felix and the softness of his fingertips as he carefully undid the buttons of his shirt, exposing his bare chest. On Felix and the warmth of his breath, which he feels exhaling slowly and heavily against his abdomen. On Felix and his hands, small and quick, resting on Jisung's hips, trembling in the air, grabbing him by the waistband of his trousers, undoing the button, pulling down the zip. Sliding the trousers down to the floor. Sliding his shorts to the floor. Kissing the tip of his cock with care and reverence. On Felix, Felix, Felix, Felix...

Jisung closed his eyes the instant Felix put it in his mouth. He felt a breeze of heat rise up his chest, settling on his cheeks, as he realised how much he had leaked into his underwear, and how little he wanted Felix to notice it. For the short amount of time that had passed, the precum stain had been embarrassingly obvious, but Felix seemed to have ignored it, too hungry to even pay attention. A shiver ran down his spine and Jisung wondered if it was cold or disappointment that Felix hadn't teased him for how excited he was. He seemed oblivious to his urges in the presence of the blond.

His mouth fell open with a moan, eyelids fluttering, as Felix began to bob his head against him, a tear of drool spilling over his pretty rosy lips, and he clenched his fists at the sides of his hips. It was amazing ㅡJisung hadn't had much experience in anyone's bed, but Felix clearly had, just by the skilled way he used his tongue, running it along the underside of his cock, smiling as Jisung choked on nothingness at the feel of Felix's throat so tight and warm around him. 

It made him want to be jealous of whoever enjoyed it before him, but he chose to focus on the fact that he was the one who had him on his knees at that moment.

“Lix, hahㅡ Lix, please,” he whispered, his voice hoarse with all he hadn't been aware of letting out until then, “I'm going… Lix, I'm cumㅡfuckㅡ I'm cumming…”

But he didn't listen. He didn't seem to want to. He was determined to savour the whole thing, and by the sharp look in his big dark eyes, Jisung knew he had it all to lose. Whenever he competed against Felix, he was always the loser. In this situation it will hurt less, he knows. So he lets go, whimpering his best friend's name between his teeth, his hand tangled in Felix's velvety, blond hair.

And when he managed to open his eyes, his labored breathing making him feel slightly dizzy, Felix was grinning like a sinner, waiting to make eye contact with Jisung so he could open his mouth and show him his tongue. He had swallowed it all. Dirty little thing. He had no idea Felix was that kind of lover.

But far from succumbing to his devilish face, Jisung grabbed him by the front of his white shirt, sticky and clammy under his fingers, and pulled him up, bringing their lips together in a spittle-filled, toothy kiss. He was desperate. To keep devouring him, to take him to his room, to prove to him why he should stay with him.

He sliped off his shoes with his feet, first one and then the other, letting Felix mimic him, and the clothes around his ankles are left lying on the floor as Jisung slidded his hand down to grab the back of his neck, his tongue clumsily in his mouth, and directs him, backwards, to the room he was assigned to when he arrived in the city. It was dark, but he didn't mind in the slightest. His eyes had grown accustomed, and the sight of Felix's shining pupils in front of his, the clear silhouette of his body as he pulled his jacket off, is enough for him.

He just wanted to feel it all, and hold every second of it in his memory.

Felix chased his mouth as Jisung broke away to remove his shirt, and it didn't take long for him to lift his hands, a shiver running through his body as the fabric caressed his nipples in his way up, kissing Jisung again as soon as he pulled it to the floor, amidst the mess of his room. He was able to fumble with the button of his dress trousers, ignoring the zip, when his legs hit the edge of the bed. He tugged them down with a jolt, and kneeled on the mattress, face to face with Jisung, his hands again wrapped around Jisung's shoulders.

They separated for a moment, the time it took Felix to childishly pull Jisung's open shirt to the floor, and he kissed him again, pulling him until he managed to have him on top of himself. Jisung rested his hands on the sides of the blond's head, pinning him to the mattress, sliding his tongue down Felix's neck, and felt his cock twitching, hardening against his best friend's bare thighs, when he heard Felix moan.

“Sung,” he said, eyes closed, wrapping his legs around his hips, pulling him close until there wasn't room for a breath between their bodies. “Please, I need… I need you, please.”

Jisung hid his face in the hollow between Felix's shoulder and neck, and poured a whimper over his sweaty skin, letting the friction of his hips push him a little over the edge. But Felix took one of his hands, his agile fingers curling around his wrist, and drew them to his ass, guiding Jisung's fingertips between his cheeks.

“I'm all ready for you, see?” he insisted, babbling lips moving against his ear. “You see, Sungie? ‘Touched myself… Just a bit, earlier in the shower.”

Jisung's head spinned as Felix whispered the slurred words into the room, quiet but too loud at the same time, and he released his grip so he could slide his hand across the mattress to his nightstand. The bottle of lube was nearby, always handy, and he picked it up with trembling hands, getting on his knees. Felix let his legs fall onto the bed, expectant, exposed, as Jisung poured it generously into his hand, bending down to leave a kiss on his lips while he slipped his fingers inside him.

The reaction was astonishing. Felix's cock throbbed over his tummy, his abs clenching and unclenching, mouth wide open. Jisung smiled, lowering his kisses to Felix's abused neck, working him open.

“My good, naughty boy,” he murmured, and Felix exhaled an breathy laugh, his hands tightly gripping Jisung's dishevelled sheets.

“Like… likewise,” managed to reply, but the words choked in his throat in a low whine when Jisung withdrew his fingers, leaving him empty.

He moved back to the drawer as fast as he could, grabbing a condom with sticky fingers, tearing the plastic with his teeth and pulling it down his length. Felix doesn't have time to process it, his hands clutching at Jisung's shoulders for dear life as Jisung slidded himself inside of Felix. They both held their breath, Felix throwing his head back, furrowing his brow, his throat buzzing with pleasure. Jisung waited, concentrating on not releasing right away, while Felix adjusted to him.

“So, oh, fuckㅡ so big,” he moaned, digging his short nails into Jisung's skin, “so good, so big, oh God…”

“Yeah?” 

He wasn't even able to respond, his gaze lost in the ceiling as Jisung slammed his hips against Felix's, the fucked out expression making Jisung groan. He loved that face. He was going to treasure forever those freckles that painted his friend's pretty face. His arms trembled as he kept pushing into Felix, gasps coming from his rosy lips, and Jisung tried to find him in the dark.  Felix welcomed the open-mouthed kiss with feverish urgency, mind too focused on his pleasure to notice that Jisung had caressed his way down to Felix's cock, jerking him off with renewed energy.

He wasn't going to last long, so he had to focus on Felix. Focus on squeezing his cock the right way, earning every sweet noise with pride, savouring the harsh flavour of vodka on his tongue.

“Sungie… Hah, Sungie I'm… I'm going to,” but Jisung didn't let him finish the sentence, drowning his gasps in another dirty kiss.

Felix tangled his fingers in Jisung's hair, making his hips stutter, the musky scent of their sweat tingling in his nose with each thrust. Jisung's muscles twitch as he notices the way Felix tenses beneath him, his cum spilling between his fingers as he cums, his eyes rolling into the back of his head. That was when he let himself go, jaw going slack as he emptied himself into Felix's warm hole, releasing all the built up stamina into one final thrust.

He collapsed, smiling lazily against Felix's skin, and hoped it was not a dream. Then he felt his friend humming, his chest too comfortable, caressing his scratched back. He had to get up, throw away the condom and clean themselves before he could even begin to think about sleeping. Once he woke up, he would deal with the consequences. Their whole friendship had been amazing, but that night belonged to him. Especially if Felix regretted it the next day.

Because Jisung knew only one thing. His last wish before midnight had been for Felix to kiss him back. It had been selfish and impulsive, but worst of all, it had been a wish for himself. That broke his mother's main rule, and probably meant that even if it had come true, it would have terrible repercussions.

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