#it's important to me that they get to grow old and wrinkly and happy together

[whenthewallfell]

~ a place for crows to rest their feet ~

local couple continues to be insufferable after two kids and thirty years of marriage

[anathemaloren]

Do you wanna come over? p.2

[had to post it in 2 parts, also i decided to not write more username because of... creative issues]

jann_music_ ☑ • 5 hours ago

London

❤ 🗨️

678,297 likes

jann_music_ couldn't keep the secret anymore

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username1 I KNEW IT

username 2 she's so pretty bye

lukeblackmusic she's right for you

liked by jann_music_

jann_music_ i know right?

yourusername ☑ • 5 hours ago

London

❤ 🗨️

1,438,981 likes

yourusername this boy has made me happy since day 1. he is sweet, caring, intelligent, loving, fun, incredibly talented and, most important of all, he is easy to love. that might be one of the things i love most about him. loving him isn't complicated or messy, and i don't have to hurt myself to be happy in this relationship. i'm with someone who encourages me to be who i want to be and who is with me every step i take. it is absolutely terrifying how much i love him and how far i could go for him. i want to be together with him until we grow old and ourt tattoos get wrinkly and we drink tea at night. i want to have kids with you, with your eyes and your hair and your talent and compassion and ability to love, and hear their little feet come wake us up at 9am on saturday and wanting to get rid of them because we just want to sleep 5 more minutes, but getting up instead and make them panda pancakes. i want to travel the world with you and feel at home no matter where we are. because i am always home when i am with you. i sometimes feel i could explode with how much love i feel for you. i know you will probably read this in the living room and then come to the bedroom with tears on your eyes telling me how much you love me and that you feel sorry for not doing a big ass letter like this on your post. that's who you are, but i want you to know that it doesn't matter. everything you give me everyday is 12 times better than writing a post. you are my carl, my kaz, mr.darcy, patrick verona, my jake peralta, my luke, my marshall and every other guy i say i love. because you are everything i've ever wanted embodied in the most beautiful boy ever, MY most beautiful boy. i hope you never forget how much i love you as well as i won't ever forget how loved you make me feel. and i hope you know that, every time i wake up and see you next to me, my day starts a little bit brighter, because i know i will be able to see stars in your eyes all day and look at the moon with you at night.

and i know the best way of knowing god is loving many things, but if i have to meet the devil to only love you for eternity, i will be alright with it.

comments have been restricted

THAT'S IT FELLAS

[youranxiousgf]

Love is Not Always Enough

26-04-2023, 7:59 pm

To my anxiously-attached sweethearts, this is for you. To anyone who's in an "opposites attract" relationship and struggling, this is for you.

I secretly loved romance movies and novels growing up- not that I'd ever be caught dead admitting this in front of my sister- I'd sooner admit I'm a furry lol. But you know which love stories I always despised from the depths of my heart? The ones where the two leads love each other so deeply, and are such. genuinely. good. people. And they look so good together??? And yet, they don't end up together... simply because they "wanted different things from life," ugh.

I can't put into words how much I always hated those endings. It was just a heart-wrenching conclusion to a perfect romance. I wanted to punch the TV screen every time, but now that I'm in my first (and beautiful) relationship of 2 years I'm finally tasting this bitter truth from the other side.

Love can hold two people together through the absolute worst that this giant green-and-blue rock has to offer us. But love doesn't equal compatibility. Attraction, love, friendship, commitment, loyalty, compromise, respect, none of these will be enough for a happy relationship if you don't ALIGN in your values, life path, communication, and wants. One by one a crisis will emerge, grow in complexity, and a resolution will become increasingly impossible to reach. You'll start to wonder why you didn't break up earlier, how you don't agree on the most important things. You'll feel helpless and compelled to let them go even as your inner child refuses to.

Opposites can attract but don't necessarily belong together. Your person might make you the happiest you've ever been, but they won't necessarily keep you happy in the long-term. I know, it's an ugly sentence, feel free to cancel me. But it won't change the truth that you're crying in the bathroom every weekend wondering why your person doesn't get you. Sometimes it's just impractical.

If I speak about my boyfriend, he's changed a lot since we met. In a good way for him (I'm proud of his self-improvement journey), but not always in a good way for us. As we're growing, we're moving further apart in what we want out of life. Our relationship needs and goals are becoming increasingly contrasted. He doesn't care much for romance or da horny, while I don't care much for philosophy and spirituality. I want more time with him, do more things with him, he needs less time and less activities. He's avoidant and independent, I'm anxious and clingy. He's the tsundere boyfriend, I'm the uwu girlfriend lmao. Hell yeah we're cute like that, but it's not all sparkles and chocolates.

Do we still love each other? Incredibly so. Some days it feels like the kind of mature love that wrinkly 80 year old grandpas and grandmas have hehe. He's a wonderful person down to the bone, respects me, and looks out for me. We've worked through many arguments and challenges together, stuck together till the end. We both know finding another "wifey" or "hubby" like each other will be rare to come across.

But none of that changes the possibility that maybe we're too different. That I feel like I'm dating a monk who evil laughs and gives me a wise lecture once a day, and he feels like he's dating a 10 year old girl who demands attention and headpats and cries once a day lol. Maybe we're not compatible enough and won't be able to live the rest of our lives making compromises and trying to slowly inch the war in our personal favor. As time progresses it feels like communication is becoming harder, not easier. Love may not be enough to keep us happy, as much as I hate to admit it. Unless we can find common values and allied desires again, grow together again... this relationship is something I'll eventually have to reconsider.

But here's the good part.

If you truly have a decent human being with you, there's always a possibility that things will work out for you. Love is a choice you make everyday, a conscious decision and patient WORK. If they're willing to do it for you and you're willing to do it for them, maybe no matter how unusual and bizarre your match... it will just click.

You can't fit a square into a triangle shaped hole. But if you're ready to cut some corners, maybe it's possible?

So take your time but make it productive. You don't need to end things in a heated screaming match or drag on a dead relationship for infinity. Start the difficult conversations, share the burden of communication, remember to be respectful, and however hurtful, accept your partner's words as their truth. Ask them if they can fight for you. And only stay if the answer is "yes", because that's the only right answer in a world where you deserve happiness.

And the most important pieces of advice I can give you:

1. Work on your flaws and communication skills, you're imperfect too and can't force your partner to change for you. You can both only agree to be better than your codependency/neurosis/defense mechanisms/past trauma, whatever brings a rift in your relationship.

2. There is more to life than romance. You were there before he/she came along, and you'll be there even after them, so remember to put yourself first too, have hobbies and opinions and a whole life outside of your relationship. Self care and autonomy takes the cake, and the attraction you'll feel when you're two separate ppl, not one enmeshed mess, is just the cherry on top.

3. Humor is magic. Sprinkle it on everything. There's a time for taking issues and life seriously, and there's a time for laughing about the things that go wrong between you two somedays. Push aside your anger and be light in your step. Apologize like you expect to be apologized to.

3. Accept it with a smile when the universe tells you that it's just not possible. Fill your heart with utter joy at having made this journey with them, at having come this far and learned so much. They were one of your best friends who you'll never forget. And let go of your hold on them... stepping into a better life.

Having written this, I'm feeling a lot better. I'll go tell my grumpy cat bf I love him now, because I'm here to work on us yet another day.

[sanoism]

“ i wanted us to grow old together. “ u_u

Of all the wishes he’s ever made, how did he neglect this one ? 

I wish upon a star... that I had more time.

It hadn’t been apparent , not when he was young and life seemed to be an infinite road , chasing and chasing the summation of goals that could never be caught. He wanted more time with Shinichiro , more time with Emma , more time with his friends , more time to love. — but truthfully , would there ever be enough time ? You spend your time with the wind in you hair , and the sun on your face , laughter , and soda that’s gone flat too soon , and when you turn around , everyone who was there is gone save for your own shadow stretching down that road with the setting sun.

Getting old ... it’s so funny , he can see it for everyone else. They would hold their age like a medal. We started at the bottom , no parents , no home , and now we’re here. Just some kids who decided they were going to hold the whole world and shake it up until there was a spot for them too. They’d look different , he thinks , a little more grey at the temples , and softer , no doubt. — but theyd still be brave , and smart , with their big brains and bigger heart. Takemichi would still be a crybaby. Takemichi would still be kind.

— But Mikey could never see a future for himself. How would he wear age ? Perhaps draped over his shoulders like an old , beloved coat , billowing behind him. Or maybe , just maybe , he’d carry it , precious and important the same way he used to cradle a blanket. but maybe he doesn’t have to have the answer to that. Maybe it’s enough to imagine this: it’s snowing outside and everyone is there around the kotatsu table. Everyone would like a spot , but he won’t move , because he’s Manjiro , and no one will move him , because of the same reason. He’s Manjiro , and he belongs there , no matter the name he uses or the year it is. Someone peels an orange for him , and he wants to eat it , but his hands are already comfortably nestled beneath the covers , so he’ll complain until someone puts a slice in his mouth. 

Maybe this is a future he can understand: Mikey in conjunction with another , Mikey who does not have to be lonely, Mikey who is allowed to be happy.

( He wonders how many times Takemichi must have seen him die by now. )

“ We’d be so wrinkly ! ” he laughs , pressing his forehead onto Takemichi’s chest. 

" That’s a beautiful dream ... Thank you for showing it to me... "

[appleteez]

SUNI DAY!!!!

ok I’m gonna have to be careful to not write like 3k words and make it a small one shot ahgfawhefw

Suni Bean MY Suni Bean 👀💜 (mine and only mine)

Anyway…

I can’t believe that we met at 19, spent our 20s together and now we’re moving onto 21 still together~ We already spent two steps of our lives together and we’re going onto our third, now, this is just the beginning to so many many more steps and chapters together. I just know it.

In our time together, I feel like I’ve got to see you grow so much. From working at the hospital with your second part time job at the radio station. To starting a new semester together. To a New Year together. To seeing you officially getting with your boyfriend. To you getting more serious shift at the hospital. And now you’re even moving and changing places. That’s only a few things that I’ve had the chance to see you experience and be there with you for it~ (somewhat hehe)

  But also the opposite. You were here for me as much as I was there for you and I cannot stress this enough, how important that is to me. Talking about balance in a relationship, it’s so perfect and no one could ever give me that the way that you do Suni~ I may sound dramatic, but I did not know that I needed to be heard and recognize as much as you do. You listen to me. You offer me advice. You’re here for me at all time and even if it’s only through text you genuinely make things better. From your long messages to your cute (and personal favorite) voice messages <3

I’m always hard on myself and you’re always there to tell me that you’re proud of me and that I’m enough. You made me realize that wow.. I needed that. Ugh you make me so cheesy. I hate cheesy things but I guess you make it easy~

Also I want to point out how frustrating it is to use basic words to try and make you understand just how much you mean to me. Like I have so much to say and I feel so much but words are so restricting hahaha (about to invent own language to express love to Suni..)

But that makes me come to this. How we both understand how much we mean to one another. How you know that you’ll never be a bother and that you got so comfortable and confident with me. I think you have an idea but just to emphasize on it.. You have NO idea how happy it makes me. *takes sip of tea before writing again*

I want to say, how crazy it is that we’ve known each other for a little over a year and yet I feel like I’ve had you in my life for so much longer. You make the time go by more easily but multiple in importance (does that make sense?) You make everything easier. You’re my little Suni Bean, and I’m so proud to see you grow up the way you do. We said it before like ‘Damn where were you all this time’ but again, how lucky are we to have met each other so early in life. Now I’ll get to be here for your 22, 23, 24, 25 birthday and so so many more. Until we’re both old and wrinkly, still texting each other about the randomest stuff. “Today I fed the cutest birdies Ali, they reminded me of you!” , “Today I went on a walk in the park and saw cute flowers and they reminded me of you Suni bean!!”  Because as much as we’re gonna grow up and change together, I feel like those little habits won’t change anytime soon.

So thank you Suni, for making the time go by faster, for making the time feel more important, for making it easy. For making me cry out of pure happiness. For making me laugh and snicker and for making me feel so many different emotions with you. For saying things like “I knew you were not ok, your texting was off..”. For saying things like “I love you, I miss you, eat, drink and breathe~”. For talking to me, for giving me advise, for just listening to me and making me feel way more important than I ever thought I could be. There’s so many things I could thank you for and I could go on forever, but I can make it easy by just saying thank you for being you Suni. For being Suni in my life and giving me the luck to be there for you too.

  You being born is quite the miracle my bean. I love you so much, I miss you always, and I’m here for you whenever you need it <3 Thank you for sticking by my lovely bean.

Here’s to you turning a nice 21!!! One more chapter together and to many many more!!!! Let’s grow old and wrinkly together my bean. Let’s be the best combo forever~

HAPPY BIRTHDAY MY SUNI, MY CHANGKYUN, MY BEAN, MY SANNIE, MY ULT BIAS, MY SOULMATE!!!! I love you to moon and back times infinity.

Let’s look at the moon together for a long time. That until we get to spend the day together~

  Again, happiest birthday my bean, you have my whole heart but what’s new? :]

-Your Jooheon, Ali bean, Wooyoung, ult bias, and finally soulmate~

[jougogo]

young & beautiful - iwaizumi hajime

a/n: hello. this broke me when i wrote it. literally, 3am and full on sobs. also, a large part of this fic was inspired by a book called hotel on the corner of bitter and sweet by jamie ford. it provides a lot of insightful views about japanese internment camps in the united states during wold war 2, so if you’re interested i would highly recommend reading it! this is a songfic to young and beautiful by lana del rey but i would recommend listening to summertime sadness as well, also by lana del rey. CLARIFICATION; this fic is set in the ww2 time period! and i like to think that iwa is a lil younger here, so maybe like 15-16? anyways ENJOY MWAH 

warnings: mentions of war, racist ppl >:( and v angsty!! 

wc: 2.1k

I've seen the world, done it all

Had my cake now

Diamonds, brilliant, in Bel-Air now

Hot summer nights, mid July

When you and I were forever wild

The crazy days, city lights

The way you'd play with me like a child

he knew that this would be the last time he sees you.

you. 

the same one wearing those new blue jeans even though it’s mid-july and the air is sickeningly humid, sitting with bare feet dangling over the edge of the rooftop at 4am, with hair softly rustling from the occasional cool breeze that made the hot california summers more bearable. 

"hey, i guess this is the last time we’ll meet on this rooftop, huh?" you said, looking out at the sleepy city.

"don't say that! you know it’s not true," he quickly chided you, but the break in his voice told you the opposite of what he was trying to convince you. what he tried to convince himself

hajime put his arm around your shoulders and sat down next to you

the two of you looked out peacefully at the quiet streets of san francisco from the top of your shared townhouse building. 

it was almost like little stars, the way that spots of brightness from the city lights were scattered sporadically through the darkness. 

"you know, if we get caught for being out this late at night, we would probably die. if the police catches us for not respecting the curfew, we would be in so much trouble. especially with the new relocation orders that the president signed, and the war hysteria, and not to mention the curfew that the government set-" he started, but was interrupted by your dreamy voice.

"i know. but i've seen the world. i've had my cake, you know ? i'm content if this is the way it ends, even if it's not me wearing diamonds and having a mansion in bel air, " you chuckled.

"hey! those were movies. they don't count as seeing the world. and also, diamonds and bel air? pfft, as if you could ever," he rebutted playfully. ever since he was a kid, he would always make it a point to take you downtown to the movie theatre and watch whatever happened to be playing that day. to be honest, he would've never stopped if it weren't for the war.

"oh, hajime. just let me dream a little, alright?" you huffed dramatically, earning a small smile from him.

the dim streetlights from the road provided just enough light to illuminated your features. oh, how he wished he could burn this memory into his mind forever. the way your eyes reflected the moon, the corner of your lips turned upwards just so slightly, a couple wisps of your hair framing your face with the rest pulled back into a lazy braid, held together by a single red ribbon. 

red.

the color red.

it brought him back to one of his favorite childhood memories; when the every neighborhood in their little japantown would come together to celebrate new years. 

the popping firecrackers, the festive lanterns and fiery signs hanging by the doors.

a time when he would explore the different stores, hand in hand with you, and later chasing you down the sloped streets for taking a bite out of the snack he bought. giggling as adults scolded them for being reckless and wild. his mouth watering as the women of the neighborhood carry out trays upon trays of delicious food, the feeling of present a warm meat bun in his hand, chimes of “itadakimasu” ringing around him. not a care in the world, just pure joy and happiness. it was always what he looked forward to as a child. 

oh, what he wouldn't give to go back to those days

Will you still love me when I'm no longer young and beautiful?

Will you still love me when I got nothin' but my aching soul?

I know you will, I know you will, I know that you will

Will you still love me when I'm no longer beautiful?

"will you still love me when i'm not young and beautiful?" you asked softly, pulling him out of his thoughts. he felt your small fingers wrap around his, clasping his hand. "what if the next time i see you, i'm old and wrinkly like a raisin?"

"well, i'd be a wrinkly old raisin too. so what? it doesn’t make a difference in how much i love you, " he replied nonchalantly

"then will you still love me when i’ve got nothing left but my soul?" 

upon hearing you ask yet another question, hajime stiffened

"stop asking silly questions," he finally managed to mumble out, hugging his knees closer to his chest.

"you know. they force you to leave behind all your belongings. they take everything away, iwa-chan." you spoke softly. "i'm leaving behind all my important stuff at the basement of the panama hotel. they're really nice people, you know? for letting us keep our stuff there. maybe, if we both come back, they'll still be there and we can look through our old pictures together." you said quietly, twiddling your hair ribbon between your fingers. your hair was wavy from being in the braid all day, and now they were finally freed.

free. how he wished he could be free from all these restrictions again.

he tried to think about happier memories, but everything became painful as the realization dawned on him that he will lose everything. it was inevitable. the little grocery store around the corner owned by that old married couple his mom always talks to? they were escorted away weeks ago. the ice cream parlor he loved because they would always give him extra whipped cream for ordering in japanese? shut down by the government's order. he remembered the harsh words he had heard from a group of protesters when he biked past the golden gate park on his way to run an errand for his mother.

"all japanese are dangerous. they are traitors to the country,"

and that’s when he noticed their pointed glares at him.

“i was raised here! i’d never be a traitor!” he so desperately wanted to yell. but his body told him to keep pedaling away, as fast as he possibly can.

seeing people with these horrible prejudice against him, a stranger, even a kid whom they’ve never met, felt like a stab to the heart

but it also angered hajime to no end

it was the biggest lie he's ever heard. dangerous? that's not true. ok, maybe there were a few pervy geezers, but he knew that this community that he loved was anything but dangerous.

so why are they the one being punished?

he knew he would lose everything eventually. he just didn't think he'd lose the love of his life so soon.

her family had gotten the notice two days ago. 

"sacramento. and maybe oregon. probably washington, even idaho" you had told him.

somewhere far, far away from him

he had heard that the concentration camps, or "relocation centers," as the news had put it,

were cold. 

the images of concrete, barbed wire and cramped spaces, the stories of families working relentlessly from day to night only to be treated like prisoners, and the thought of sleeping on the freezing floors filled his mind. just thinking about it made him shudder, but the scariest thing was that he doesn't know when his family will be next

growing up, your family and the iwaizumis had been neighbors. he lived on the first floor, and you lived above him. the two of you had bonded over your parent’s chatting, and having each other for dinner was a common occurrence. his parents treated you as their own child, and your parents did the same with hajime. heck, no one would bat an eye if you announced that you were going to sleep over at his house because you two practically lived together. 

you were his first love. his best friend. every moment of his childhood, had been spent with you.

you were the ribbon that held him together through his messy life, and now he was losing you

overwhelmed, he could feel his throat began to tighten. his breathing became heavier as he tried to blink back the tears that welled in his dark green eyes.

"hey. you can cry on me, if you want." you comforted him. it was like you could read him like a book, because he frantically sputtered out an excuse

“what are you talking about? and also, to answer your dumb question, i'll love you no matter what. i don't care how long it takes, or what we look like, or-"

you hovered your finger above his lips, gently shushing him.

"i know you will, haji, i know that you will," you said softly as you caressed his cheek. he looked away, but he couldn’t help but choke out a sob

you patted his head and pulled him into a hug, burying his face into the crook of your neck. warm tears dampened the sleeve of your shirt.

"please. please. i don’t want you to leave," he mumbled into your shoulder as you ran your fingers through his messy black hair.

Dear Lord, when I get to heaven

Please, let me bring my man

When he comes, tell me that You'll let him in

Father, tell me if You can

All that grace, all that body

All that face makes me wanna party

He's my sun, he makes me shine like diamonds

“maybe, one day we'll see each other again.” you said when he finally lifted his head. 

you stood up and held out your hand to him, an offer to help pull him up since he was probably sore from sitting for so long

however, he didn’t let go of your hand once he stood back up. 

“dance with me?” he asked, sniffling and wiping away the last tear.

you nodded, and he began to sway to the faint sound of jazz music coming from the nightclub a few blocks away. 

“hey, this is our swing dance routine from PE in 7th grade,” you smiled fondly at the memory as he twirled you around him, only to twirl you back into his arms. nodding in confirmation, he dipped you gracefully, his strong arms wrapped around your waist. 

that’s when he noticed the tear trickling down your cheek. it faintly sparkled in the moonlight, similar to how a diamond would.

“i’m going to miss you, hajime iwaizumi from the first floor. thank you for making me happy,” you whispered, looking up at him. he pulled you back up, and held you in his warm embrace. 

“even if we don't see each other again in this life, i'm sure i'll find you again. if you’re good, maybe i’ll see you in heaven. be good, haji. be good for me. promise?” you muttered into his chest before pulling away to look him in the eyes.

“no promises. you might have to beg god to let me in.”

“ok. i’ll see you in heaven, hajime,” you whispered, cupping his cheek

and that’s when you pulled him down for a kiss. it was a light, almost featherlike, brush across his lips. your elbows were resting on his shoulders, and your forearm crossed behind his neck. hajime leaned his forehead against yours, the tips of your noses just barely touching 

“can we stay like this, for a little while longer?” he asked breathily, still reeling in shock from his first kiss

“mhm. i love you, hajime.” you answered, gazing into his pretty green eyes as they fluttered open. 

in the distance, you could see that the had sun begun rising over the horizon, enveloping the two of you in the warm light of morning. you basked in the serene orange glow, admiring every feature of the beautiful boy in front of you. 

“i love you,”

he can’t wait to find you again.

tags!! @deadontheinsidebut (ilysm mwah ty for supporting me!!) @aka-a-shii (here you go i hope you enjoy bby!!!) @toshisgarden (mwah mwah ilysm)

[curseofaphrodite]

Haha Penny, Kid and Laku are short versions of their names though. Their real names are Pennywise, Tennessee Kid and Lakritsi.

Pennywise & Tennessee Kid - based on a joke on my and my very good friend Marika's inside joke which includes me explaining the concept for reader inserts to her and I showed her the tag, well it was October 2017 and guess what x readers were trending, what movie had just come out? Pennywise x readers. With smut. I'm not sure how this joke came on but soon we decided that Pennywise has an obsession with Marika and stalks her from the sewers, and since I was crushing on this raccoon character in Playstation game Sly Cooper 4 in 2013 spring before I met my last irl crush in August 2013 (for clarification, the character was named Tennessee Kid Cooper), we decided that he has an obsession with me. And I can't go to the forest when it's a mating season because Kid attacks me otherwise. So when I saw Kid (the piggy version), I realized that hey, he kinda looks like Tennessee Kid, and then I saw Penny and was like huh, white and reddish... that one makes a good Pennywise.

Lakritsi - Finnish for liquorice. His coloring brought Panda chocolate liquorice (side note, Panda is a Finnish candy trademark if you were confused) to my mind but I soon realized that Lakritsi could be a bit too complex name for him to learn, so I just shortened it to Laku.

They all probably think their name is höpölipöppöti now though because I always coo at them and call them that.

Yeah sure, I can allow it. Only thing that Kid and I come together so he's gonna have to endure me too if he wants to adopt Kid, also Penny is for Kid what Inej is for Kaz so. I'm not sure if they'd be able to live without each other 😂 So he's gonna take all of us or none of us. If he still takes the offer, I didn't lie to my ex-crush after all 🤔🤔

A storytime on that: I crushed on a boy in my class between 2013-2014 and was so in looooove with him, I wrote self-inserts with him and just painted all kinds of fantasies of how our life will be when we're old and wrinkly with 10 grandkids, but it didn't get any fire under its wings and he suddenly fell silent on me without explanations and started ghosting on me after November 2014, well I got over him eventually and started crushing on fictional characters again, and actually almost forgot about him and then he just randomly slid to my DM's on Facebook on May 14th this year and was like "it's been 6 years since we last talked, I'd like to know how you're doing? :)" I was happy about it at first, because for a long time, he was really important to me and was intrigued about how he's doing too. So I replied that hi, great to hear about you, I'm good, my birthday was last week and also asked about how he's doing, but he just ignored everything I said or asked and immediately started DEMANDING all the information I have of our other classmate and it was like the whole person changed behind the screen (he wanted to know the tiniest things, he wanted to know what was V wearing the last time I saw him?? Like... I don't wanna know why he wanted to know that), I jokingly started shipping them but then his writing became more messy and weird, he wrote really weird messages and formatted them like "look, [city name]? 2015" and meant that he wants to see pictures of that classmate I've taken of him in 2015 while we were hanging out at that city. Then I started telling him that hey, I don't really know V anymore, we haven't been in contact since the end of 2016, but here's his Facebook, go ask stuff from him. He did and asked that "if I would meet you what would I think of you? You haven't seen me after 2014, but have I seen you?" and I was like fuck do I know, but replied that I don't know what does he mean. He fell silent and after a week he came back demanding for more pics and didn't take a no for an answer again 😅

So I started growing frustrated so I lied to him that my boyfriend is here with me right now, can't really talk. He was like YOU HAVE A BOYFRIEND and I was like uh, duh? I've gotten over you, I'm far too gorgeous to be left without anyone. And then he started asking information of him, I purposely ignored him for a few hours and replied at like 11pm and told him that sorry for late reply, we were spending quality time together, but yeah his name is Kaz and he's a businessman, we began dating in 2015 (I claimed that our anniversary is September 29 = Six of Crows was published on September 29, 2015 😂😂😂) and I built the story a bit and then told him that oh yeah, when covid will calm down, I'm moving to Ketterdam with Kaz and explained that it's a city on Kerch, and Kerch is a small country beside Ravka. He didn't question it at all, suddenly wanted to meet me one last time before I move away to Ketterdam and asked me over and over again that when I'm coming back and I kept telling him that yeah well, that's the thing, I'm not coming back, not permanently anyway if we stay together with Kaz, but he told me that we might be able to retire when we're 40 because Kaz makes a lot of profit and probably then we'll move back to Finland because Ketterdam isn't the safest place to live in if you don't have a certain type of reputation. And then he just started asking when can I come up to meet him and say goodbye and I actually thought about buying some cheap/fake, authentic looking engagement ring which I would put onto my ring finger and make sure he sees it if I ever do go meet him. But even if I won't, I had the best laughs in my life.

We stopped talking eventually though when he had been silent for a month and then suddenly came back on 7th of July, and still tried to get me send him pics of V and my dad had just passed away, I told him that I'm mourning, I don't have time nor interest to dig pics of V that I most likely don't even have anymore, especially when my ex-crush wasn't even present when those pics were taken. He was like "I WOULD HAVE WANTED THEM AS MEMORIES BUT WHATEVER" and then fell silent on me. I sent him one last message where I apologized if I made him feel bad but I just need him to understand that I'm not capable for dealing with stuff like this right now, and that again, my dad just died. He saw it after a few minutes but didn't answer before October... so 3 months after my last message, he put me a "ok". 😅 Wow, my taste for men has really sucked.

And yeah if I had to choose between the three, Penny is my favorite too. He's just so cuddly and brave 😍 But haha no he won't jump on anyone from anywhere, unless you have something for him. You're his friend only after you give him something to eat, before that he's wary of you. Food is literally the instant way to his heart.

But Laku is the prettiest ever honestly, his coloring brings that viral cat to my mind from a few years ago.

Kid is also pretty, he looked slightly different as a baby but here's him as a baby and now:

LOOK AT THEM PLS I JUST WANNA HOLD THEM BUT I KNOW I CAN NEVER DO THAT CAUSE ILL PROBABLY drop them if they move too much (i know they don't bite but I'm clumsy like that)

I love the backstories of the names, like omg there were really a lot of pennywise x reader smut fics?? LIKE HUH BUT THAT'S SCARY. Imagine his smile in bed, nop nop nightmares hell no.

I love how you told your friend about x reader fics tho. I still haven't told any of my friends about my tumblr. they know im here 24/7 and one of them tried to find my account but i was like "haha good luck" and yup i'm still ✨anonymous✨

hey kaz practically adopted all of the Crows (though he looks annoyed all the time, we know he loves them) so hell yes he'll adopt your smol family too. I have a feeling Jesper would LLOVEE kid and nina would love all. of. them.

and what that dude sounds so creepyy

you 🤝me bad taste irl men

(not fictional cause we both know they're the best)

but I get liking someone so much to a point where you imagine a life with them and who am I kidding, if I knew yall id probably have shipped you too. When he texted you after years, it would have been the most adorable story ever BUT OFC HE MESSED IT UP!!

that dummy had to ask for pictures and info and make you uncomfortable!! idiot, I send him virtual punches. 👊👊👊

AND JENNI WHAT YOU'RE OFFICIALLY MY IDOL??? WHEN YOU TOLD HIM ABOUT KAZ AND KETTERDAM AND HE BELIEVED EVERYTHING OMFG?? that takes a lot of skill as a storyteller and I'm not surprised he believed but at the same time, I'm like HA YES HE BELIEVED IT! His reaction must be pure gold if he knew about the books hehe.

Hypothetically if I give cookies to Penny, would he eat them?

[devolusion-a]

@fluminas : “ i’m kaeya’s — i’m barbara,” she corrects. no need to put more out publicly than he might be comfortable with, even if they are always and forever her older brother. “ i heard you and them were together, and i just wanted to say — “ the poor thing is shaking like a newborn fawn, clearly intimidated by elysia’s everything but with something very important to say. “ kaeya’s a really good person, and he deserves someone who cares about him, so … ” yeah, barbara looks nervous enough to cry. “ so you’d better treat them well !! ”

That’s right — Barbara is KAEYA’S SOMETHING and Elysia is KAEYA’S SOMETHING ELSE, and it was inevitable that they’d get tangled together, too.  Both of them bound by different shades of red thread to the person they both adore.  Elysia had been excited to meet Barbara after all she’s heard of the girl, all sweet and warm and afraid much like Elysia had been growing up.  This display has dual amusement and affection swelling in her mechanical chest; the child, afraid and small and trembling like a baby deer, but still motivated too much by love not to attempt this small protecting.

And what a comfort it is, that Kaeya has so many people who want to protect him.  He deserves all that and more.  What a comfort it is, to be stopped outside the Cathedral in Mondstadt by someone else her beloved loves.  Elysia grins, and laughs something affectionate and confident and comforting — and not at all derisive — as she asks, “have they given you reason to think I don’t?  I’d love to know if my partner is badmouthing me.”  Elysia laughs again, hands finding her hips, and the setting sun turns her golden eyes into something bright and sparking with barely concealed delight because this is Barbara, someone Kaeya loves, and thus someone Elysia will love — and she says, “because all he ever says about you is good stuff, so I’d be really mad if he was shit - talking me!”

And all Kaeya has ever said about Barbara — little sister, they don’t say but they don’t have to, and she wonders what it would have been like to have an older brother that loved instead of hurt her — is good, is glowing, dipped in affection like Ely dips bread in honey.  How she’s strong, and kind, and important to all who love her, who works so hard for everyone, who wants to protect as many people as she can, who’s so funny when she’s safe enough to be.  Even his laughter at her pulled face when she’d asked if this Barbara had a vision and he’d said yes had been all - but drowning in love for the girl.

“But — don’t worry.  I’m very in love with Kaeya and wanna get to keep loving him ‘til I’m old an’ wrinkly, so I solemnly swear to be on my very best behavior.  Scout’s honor.”  She crosses her heart and winks and loves Barbara and being alive — she always loves being alive, but it’s always a good reminder when she’s faced with moments like these, all about love.  The sunset behind the shaking girl’s head makes her looks cherubic and Elysia softens her smile and it’s so sincere and sweet she thinks she’d taste sugar if she swallowed.  

I love you / I’m glad we exist.  Seeing Barbara like this, protecting him, makes her so happy.  “I’m grateful they have people who love them as much as you do, Barbara.”

[offbrandmercyplates]

I should put a title here but I don't know what to put AAA

Tumblr User invader-amethyst: *Has a Greek Gods AU headcanon*

Emmibee: “Hey fic writers, feel free to write—”

Me: *Throws self into the computer screen Super Mario 64 style* I’VE BEEN SUMMONED.

So, yep! invader-amethyst sent in an ask with a Greek Gods AU idea, and Emmibee gave it a stamp of approval. Thus, I wrote. This one actually took a few tries to get started, but I think I’m pretty happy with how it turned out. See you at the bottom!

 ***

The Unseen One’s Lesson on Loneliness

The Underworld, for the most part, was made up of stone tunnels and caverns that were bathed a deep blue by the numerous crystals on the walls and ceilings. The entrances to these tunnels and caverns often shifted around, by their own will or the will of their king, which created an infinite combination of paths to wander and explore. Condensation would drip from stalactites into little puddles that never grew or shrank, and the drips and drops echoed throughout the Underworld in a way that soothed some and unnerved most. The goddess of spring was part of the former.

Kore was currently sitting in a cavern with a floor of damp, loamy soil. It had been the first gift given to her by the god of death in person, rather than secretly left for her to discover.

She enjoyed feeling the soil with her hands, watching it fall between her fingers and smooth over her palms. She was, admittedly, a bit indecisive, and had yet to choose what she would grow in this new garden first. Since food was ample in the Underworld, flowers seemed to be the best option, but which flowers should she grow first? Should she start small, with some bushes of roses? Something thematically appropriate to the setting, like some branches of belladonna? So many choices, but which would be just right?

Hence why she was simply enjoying the sensation of dirt on her skin; damp enough to form a shape when pressed, but dry enough not to stick.

A slight tickling sensation on her smallest finger, buried under the soil, made her lift her gaze to see a pale, wriggling string crawl its way across the dirt. A worm friend!

Kore flipped onto her stomach and gently patted the worm. Mm, yes. This was some good soil her husband got her if there were worm friends to find.

The little worm stilled at her touch. Its back end lifted and made what looked like a “come here” gesture before it disappeared under the dirt.

Curious, Kore carefully dug a hole around the worm until she found a small, dead plant. She cradled it in her hands. It was a limp, vine-like stem with wrinkly brown tubes clustered along it. There were no roots, suggesting it had been plucked before being buried there.

Kore smiled. Here was her answer.

She closed her eyes and felt energy, warmth, and light pulse into the plant, which she lowered to the ground so it could take root. She let it stand on its own once it had the strength, and she could hear the soft crinkle of petals regaining their vigor.

She opened her eyes and admired the clusters of red tube-shaped flowers on the bush. It wasn’t very big at all, especially in this huge cavern, but the fiery red blossoms seemed to glow like a real fire in the cool darkness. “Erica flowers,” she said. Then, calling over her shoulder: “In the language of flowers, they mean ‘loneliness’. I don’t suppose you knew that, did you?”

There was a clattering sound, like a rock balanced on a stalagmite had been knocked over suddenly. Then Hades was standing next to her. “How did you know I was here?”

“I always know when you’re here,” she replied, tapping the blooms and watching them bounce slightly at her touch.

“I was wearing my Helm of Darkness. Not even a god can sense me when I wear it.”

“Good thing I’m a goddess, then, eh?”

“Kore…” he stopped himself, and she looked up to see him worrying at the handle of his golden staff.

“It’s okay,” she grinned up at him. “I like it when you call me by my name.”

He adjusted his gold-rimmed glasses. She patted the ground beside her, and after a moment, he carefully lowered himself next to her. “The flowers of loneliness…” he hummed to himself.

“Why was it down here?” Kore asked.

“…I was out one day,” he replied, “working on the surface, when I came across a bushel much like this one. My… knowledge of flowers is limited, so flowers shaped like these were strange. I felt a strong draw to them, so I took a branch-full, only to remember too late that I can’t touch most living things. It died in my hand.” He stared hard at the flowers. “The flowers of loneliness,” he repeated. “I suppose it makes some sense.”

“What does?”

“We are alone when we die. A fitting end for a flower meant to symbolize this truth.”

Kore frowned. “Well…” she paused a moment. “I don’t know about that. Look at how many of them there are.” She took his boney hand and guided it to the cluster of red. “You can’t really say they’re alone when they’re bunched together like this. And even when you touched them, they all went together.” His fingertip brushed a blossom, and it didn’t wither. “So they might feel lonely, but they’re not actually as alone as they think they are.” Her hand closed around his and she looked into his eye sockets. “They’re not alone.”

The thrumming echo of dripping water rang in the silence as they looked at each other. Eye sockets, one closed and one wide open, stared into a pair of eyes full of life. His jaw bone was slightly slack, and her smile was warm and gentle.

After a moment, her smile turned a little mischievous. “So… why were you wearing your Helm of Darkness?”

Hades’ skull flushed. “I-it’s not strange for me to have it!”

“In your own territory?”

“I—! Well—! It… may be a habit at this point… when I watch you… it’s not creepy!”

“It isn’t,” Kore laughed. “It just means you’re shy.”

“The god of death is not shy!”

“The god of death is, however, someone who talks about himself in the third person.”

“That means the god of death knows that he’s important.”

The goddess of spring leaned lightly against her husband. “That, he is.”

“Strange woman.” He took a stronger hold of her hand.

“Stubborn old man.” She bumped his shoulder with her head.

***

A major inspiration for the flower I chose for this story came from the second Black Butler Musical, which featured a deep theme about Erica flowers and the loneliness of death. Erica flowers are also called heaths (which are different from but related to heather flowers), and after multiple Google searches, it seems the “fire heath” is the color that means loneliness. Most Erica flowers are white, purple, or pink, but those colors are generally more positive (purple does often mean solitude, though).

Roses, as we know, mean love, which would be perfect for Kore and Hades being in love (and married-ish?); and belladonnas are also called deadly nightshade, which is why it would have been thematic to the setting of the Underworld.

Kore calls Hades her husband, but I’m not actually sure if they’re married in our human sense of the term. Would they have an official “tying of the knot” or would it be more like just something they agree on that’s acknowledged by all the gods?

Where are all the spirits in the Underworld? … Ssh…

*points at the worm* WORM FRIEND! WORM FRIEND!

I originally wanted to include this somewhere in the story, but I imagine that Hades found the Erica flower the day before he saw Kore for the first time. Perfect timing!

Speaking of Hades and Kore, Hades would usually wear his Helm of Darkness when watching Kore from the shadows, and even though she’s bound to the Underworld now, the habit of feeling unseen is hard to break (he’s called the Unseen One for a reason, after all.) How is Kore able to sense him, even when most gods wouldn’t be able to? Perhaps something deeply entwines their souls, deeper than the magic of the helm.

Alright, I think those were the major things I wanted to say. With Ms. Emmibee’s permission, I’ll be posting this to my AO3 and FFN accounts soon. Thanks to invader-amethyst for sending out the spark for this story, and of course to Ms. Emmibee for coming up with this whole AU (and the AUs within that AU). I’ll see you around. Until then!

~~~~~

AAAAA I love this so much!!!!!!

1) I love how you always put meanings into the flowers!!

2) They’re definitely married in some sense; probably had a small, private ceremony with just them and some officiant. Or do gods need an officiant? They pretty much ARE the highest authority.

3) WORM FRIEND

4) I feel like Gaster is just going to be awkward no matter what universe he’s in. Sweet awkward man.

5) Please do post it! I can’t wait to see it!!!!!

Many thanks again for this wonderful story!!!

[iixbella]

𝐒𝐄𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐀𝐆𝐀𝐈𝐍, 𝐩𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐤𝐞𝐫

 where tony stark sends peter and his daughter off for college

character name: alaya stark

masterlist

TONY STARK COULD STILL REMEMBER THE VERY MOMENT HIS DAUGHTER WAS BORN. The billionaire had arrived home from a mission with the Avengers just in time, rushing into the hospital ward as Pepper Potts had started to push. He was speechless, not being able to do much except hold his wife's hand, and whisper words of encouragement while wishing that it would all be over shortly — and it was.

Alaya Maria Stark was born just before the clock struck midnight, coming into the world with a head of soft curls and strong lungs. The little girl was a ball of happiness, lighting up their world like the sun that they revolved around. And despite how close Pepper was with her daughter, nothing could match the bond of Tony and Alaya. It was them against the world.

“Tony, have you seen Alaya? She isn't in her crib—"

Pepper paused as she stepped into the lab, her frantic facial expression instantly softening. Tony Stark was gently swaying in the middle of his work room, eyes closed as he planted a kiss to the head of his bundle of joy. Little Alaya rested comfortably, snoring away without a care in the world — and when she was in her fathers arms, she didn't have one.

"Tony?" the new mother asked, trying to stay as quiet as possible to not startle the youngest one. He turned around at the sound, and smiled at his wife who'd just woken from her much needed nap.

Pepper made her way over to the pair, and lovingly pressed a kiss to the head of their new baby girl. She then glanced up at Tony, only to find his eyes watering, "Honey, what's wrong?"

"I just love her," Tony muttered, tearful eyes not wavering from his little girl. Alaya sighed in her sleep, pink cheeks puffing up in the cutest possible way, "I love her so much."

And his love from there only grew. Alaya got older, no matter how much Tony wanted to freeze time and capture every possible moment, and before he'd realized, it was time to drop his daughter off for college. His little girl was going off into the world, and he just had to let her go.

Tony still wasn't sure if it was the best or worst idea to allow Peter to stay in the campus apartment with Alaya. He'd pulled some strings to avoid having the teens living in a dorm for their freshman year, not feeling too comfortable knowing that someone could have so much access to the two Avengers. And Tony knew that Peter would take care of his daughter — but that's what scared him the most.

It was blatantly obvious that Peter has a crush on the youngest Stark, and vice versa. They were both shy, never seemed to act on it, but Tony knew they had a strong connection and was fearful as to what them being in apartment together for a long period of time would do. Pepper, however, had been the one to reassure him by saying 'she's growing up Tony, and Alaya is smart enough to make her own decisions; so we need to be there so support her.'

Well it was easier said than done.

Tony stood in the middle of their modest campus apartment, setting the last box onto the wood floor. It had been a long day for everyone, Alaya insisting that they move their belongings into their new place by hand instead of hiring people to do it for them. She wanted to hold onto every last moment she had with her family. Tony sighed at the thought.

“That’s the last it,” Peter announced, as he stepped into the apartment, Alaya only a step behind. The two teens eyed Tony, watching as he stood silently, staring at the view over the city. Peter could sense that the father and daughter needed to have a moment, so he came up with an excuse, “I’m gonna go say goodbye to Aunt May.”

Alaya nodded in his direction with a small smile, and waited until the boy left the room before heading over to her dad. She nudged his arm lightly, pulling the man out of his thoughts, “What’s on your mind, dad? You’ve been uncharacteristically quiet all day.”

Tony sighed, shoving both hands into his pants pockets to resist hugging Alaya — because he knew he’d never want to let go, “I’m just thinking, honey. About how proud me and your mother are of all that you have accomplished and everything you will accomplish. We really are going to miss having you around the tower.”

The teenager pursed her lips, feeling a smile tug on her lips. She knew that her father wasn’t one for emotional talks, but she always appreciated hearing what he had to say. Underneath the snarky, sarcastic exterior, he had plenty of wisdom to share with his daughter. “You’re acting like I’m moving away forever, dad. It’s only four years—”

Alaya paused, her heart skipping a beat as the meaning of her words began to settle in. Everything had been so rushed the past few months that it never truly dawned on her that she was moving away from her family. Pepper, Tony, The Avengers? She felt like her heart was going to burst. No more early morning trainings with Aunt Nat, or perfectly round pancakes for breakfast from Steve. No more late night talks with Bucky, sarcastic comments from Sam, or teasing from Thor. No more spending hours in the lab with her father, both Stark minds coming together to create things truly beyond the human imagination. No more nothing. Just classes, and studying, and Peter.

At least the Peter part didn’t sound so bad.

Tony frowned, resting a hand on the teenagers’ shoulder while wondering why she’d abruptly stopped speaking. “Alaya, honey?“

The Stark didn’t speak, but instead launched herself into the arms of her father. The arms that have carried her since the moment she was born, protecting her from the horrors of reality. Alaya let out a quite sob into Tony’s chest, causing the man to tighten his grip, “What’s wrong?”

“I’m going to miss you so much, dad,” she cries, her words muffled by the fabric of his expensive button up top but Tony understood perfectly. He felt tears begin to grow in his own eyes, despite trying to blink them away.

Tony raked his mind for the right words. He rested his wrinkly cheek along the top of his daughters curls, taking a deep breath to calm himself, “I’m going to miss you too, baby. And just remember that me, your mother and everyone else will always be one phone call away. I mean it. But I always want you to have fun, Laya. You’ve always been such a good kid, and I want you to enjoy the next few years of your life — but not too much. I’m not ready to be a grandpa yet.”

Alaya couldn’t help but let out a laugh. She tried to stop her bottom lip from quivering as the tears were absorbed into Tony’s shirt, willing herself to calm down as well. “Are you going to try and invent anything that was deemed scientifically impossible without me?”

“Of course not. I’ll put it on hold until you come home for break,” he assured, knowing how important their projects were to her. Tony pulled away from the hug, enough to plant a gently kiss on her forehead. He let his lips linger a bit longer than usual, “I need to get going, sweetheart. I don’t think your neighbors are to happy with me since I landed a quinjet on the roof.”

Alaya laughed, pulling her dad in for another tight hug. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do, old man.”

“Well that won’t be difficult, considering you’re a splitting image of myself.”

“Touché,” Alaya grinned as Tony playfully ruffled her hair, something he used to always do when she was a little girl, “I’ll see you soon, dad.”

“You better, or else I’m coming back here and kicking some ass,” Tony insisted, walking over to the door as Alaya trailer behind. He stopped in the doorway, casting a glance over the bare apartment once more before landing on his daughter, who stood before him with red, puffy eyes. “I love you 3000, kid.”

“I love you too.”

okay i kinda liked this lol

i might turn this into a mini series 🤪

[penwieldingdreamer]

The best Award is at home

So in honor of Keanu’s appearence and presentation at the Oscars last night I’ve decided to give you guys a bonus oneshot to the “Best Friend”-series. It will be a repetitive pattern, so I hope you’ll like it. If you want to be added to the taglist let me know. Have fun reading

Warnings: loads of fluff and sweetness, extra long

Words: 3136

Masterlist

Keanu was just about done putting the bow tie on, dressed in his black tux, when you walked into the bedroom. He was going to attend the Oscars for the first time in a while and you felt that slight nervous energy he gave off. Ever since he had gotten the invitation to attend and present Best Screenplay, he was excited and there was nothing else on his mind...well, besides the birth of your third child that is.

When you had felt the first contraction, Keanu was up and out of bed like The Flash. Hastily he dressed and woke his mom Patricia, who had agreed to stay with your kids until they could come to the hospital. You never would have believed, that his mother would like you, a woman younger than him by a good shot and with a kid that wasn't even his. But when she saw the love for you shining in his eyes, you both knew it was going to last a while.

At the hospital you were brought to your room, your husband never far from you and making sure you had everything you wanted. The time, when you gave birth to your first daughter, Keanu was present as well. He sat next to you, holding your hand the whole time through and taking it like a man when you squeezed his hand hard due to the contractions. It was a long night, but worth it all as your daughter was laid into your arms. You watched the actor carefully, tears brimming in his eyes as he looked down at the still wrinkly and bloody baby, but the smile on his fave was everything to you. In the heat of the moment the dark haired actor leaned in and kissed you, like he had never done anything else. Still shocked you hadn't been sure what to do, but now you were married with three kids and the best husband you could want for.

“You sure you don't want to come with me?” your husband asked you, lovingly stroking the dark hair of your newest family member. Ella had been born three weeks ago and with the baby weight still on your hips, you hadn't felt to confident to attend with him.

With a smile you shook your head, looking at his molten brown eyes so full of love. “I don't. Your mom's a great substitute for me and she's got a better form than me right now.” you joked, laying a soft kiss on his neatly trimmed beard.

“You just gave birth, darling.” he told you, giving you a stern look when you mentioned your figure, knowing the harsh beauty ideal of Hollywood. “You're not supposed to be like a stick when you pushed out this wonderful little thing only a few weeks ago.” Keanu laid his fingers under your chin and closed the distance between your lips, pressing his own on yours in a gentle kiss.

Once he moved away you turned your eyes down to the sweet angel sleeping in your arms. All the commotion in the house today didn't bother her at all. Ella was just like your other children, sleeping even in the loudest surroundings. “Still, I wouldn't feel good out there.” you started, feeling his hand on your shoulder. “My hormones are going crazy, I'm crying all the time and blotchy everywhere. My breasts are huge and if I can't get Ella fed I'm leaking. It would be so embarrassing.”

“Oh, my darling, you'd still look beautiful.” Patricia came into your bedroom, pulling you into a tight hug. She was dressed in a white tux and didn't even look like her age, a trait her son had inherited from his mother, too. With a smile you leaned into your mother-in-law, making sure to not squish your baby girl between you.

“Thank you, Patty, but this time you both enjoy it.” you softly commanded. “I guess there'll be a next time when I am good enough to walk the red carpet.”

“Will you shut up about this?” he stressed, pulling the jacket of his tux down again and making sure the cuff links were fixed. “I married you after you had Ava and you think I'd not want to show you to the world.”

Patting his cheek, you kissed him. Knowing he wanted you to be there, but you couldn't take the scrutiny from everyone right now. Not with the way you were feeling at the moment. “I love you, baby. Have fun out there.” Keanu kissed you again and stroked Ella's dark tuft of hair.

“I love you, too. I'll try to call before the kids have to go to sleep.”

Nodding your head, you walked down the stairs to the hall. Eric Gabriel told your husband and mother-in-law to stand by the window and photographed them. Jeanne Yang was so proud of herself as she stood next to you, beaming from ear to ear.

“He looks really handsome.” she said, clapping her hands as mother and son posed for the camera. “You know, I would have found something great for you to wear, too.”

With a smile you patted her shoulder. “Thank you Jeanne, but with the little one I'd rather sit this one out.”

The stylist returned it and clapped her hands, signaling the duo that it was time to leave. Keanu came over to you for the last time that night, kissed you and the kids goodbye, his mother doing the same. Standing in the door way the three of you waved at them and the limousine drove off. Now you'd just have to turn on the TV and wait for your husband and his mother to walk down the red carpet.

»¤«

“Calm down, darling, Y/N will be fine. It's not the first time she is alone with the kids, she can handle it.” his mother patted his leg as she saw it moving nervously up and down.

Raking his fingers through his hair, knowing his mother was right, but he couldn't help the nervousness that swelled in his belly. “But now it's three kids and not just”

“Kim and Karina are with her, so is her mother.” Patricia grabbed his face and made him look at her. “She is not alone. Remember when you told me about her?”

Nodding his head as best as he could, Keanu watched his mother's face turning from stern to loving again. “You told me that you've met that incredible woman, alone in a new city and pregnant. I knew you were going to fall for her the moment you said that and you knew it, too. Just like you knew it with Jenny.”

Tears gathered in eyes, but he wouldn't let them fall. Jenny was the love of his life, but somehow Y/N had snuck into his life and into his heart. She had the ability to heal his broken heart and give him back the smile he had thought he lost the day his baby and Jennifer died. Now he had a family, three wonderful kids and wife to call his own. “You're right, mom.” His mother grinned at him, raising her eyebrow and the actor rolled his eyes. “As always.” he added, earning a kiss to the cheek.

“Y/N can do it, she's going to be fine. Besides you'll be home with her later tonight.” the costume designer smiled. “And now let's get out, we're here.”

The car door was opened and instantly one of the crew asked both of them to move along. They were ushered along the red carpet, photographers and fans gathered on the sidelines and everyone that was important in the business posed and strutted along the way. Every step of the way, Keanu made sure to keep his mother by his side before they were asked to pose in front of the cameras.  

He linked his mother's arm with his own, making sure everything was all right with her and posing for the fans and photographers, occasionally giving them a wave or a bright smile. “I told you it was going to be fine. We should have fun tonight.” Patricia whispered in his ear, earning another smile from her son.

»¤«

“Mommy! Mommy! Look there's daddy and granny.” Ava cried and pointed to the TV where the reporters just announced the arrival of Keanu and Patricia. They posed for the cameras and smiled.

“Dada.” Charlie, your three-year old went to the TV and clapped his little hand against it. Your mother smiled rocking Ella in her arms while Kimm, your sisters-in-law sat next to you, laughing at the excitement the two older children showed when they spotted their father.

“They're so happy.” Kim acknowledged, sipping the wine you had opened for the three guests in your house tonight. Karina was still in the kitchen and fixing chips and dips for all of you, when she spotted her older brother on the TV. “He looks hot.”

“Oh your mother does, too.” your own mother commented, earning laughs all around. She always had an open mind to your love life and the fact that Keanu was older than you didn't bother her. Your mother was happy, as long as you were happy with your choices. And by the smile grazing your lips whenever she saw you, she knew that your life was the best you had so far. “You all got your looks from her.”

Smoothing down the black locks that were growing out on Ella's head, she grinned at the two older kids who were still glued to the TV waiting for the next time their father would appear. And just as Karina sat down next to you with a bowl of chips and grape juice for you, Ryan Seacrest announced your husband and mother-in-law. You shushed everyone and leaned forward, watching him smile as he commented on the chaos of the Red Carpet. The reporter asked him about Toy Story 4, the movie you had watched together with your kids. They absolutely loved it, even though their father wasn't seen anywhere.

“So Keanu, you recently became a father again, how are you doing?”

He smiled that smile you fall in love with every day anew, waving his hand towards the camera. “It's amazing. I love my kids and our little baby is just” he stroked his beard trying to think of what to say. “I wouldn't change it for the world, my wife and my children are everything.”

His mother watched him, her eyes alight with love for her son. “All three kids are a blessing to us. My son is the happiest I've seen him in years.”

“And who's on diaper duty at night, you or your wife?” Ryan asked with a grin on his face.

The dark haired actor grinned and pointed at himself, which was true when he was at home. “Usually it's me, Y/N has the kids during the day so I offered to take the night shifts.”

Nodding his head the reporter turned to Patricia, asking her about the upcoming Matrix movie and if she already had insight on them. Your mother-in-law laughed and shook her head, she only knew about the three other movies, to which Ryan commented, that Keanu had trained her well. A bit embarrassed he only muttered a 'yeah' and thanked Ryan. Before they left your husband turned again, kissing his fingers and waving at the camera. “I love you guys.”

Ava and Charlie both raised their hands and threw kisses at the TV, a gesture they had picked up from their father, while you sat on the couch, feeling the tears of joy and love filling your eyes. With that, the duo of mother and son moved along on the carpet and inside the theater, waiting for the show to start.

»¤«

The ceremony was just how Keanu remembered all those years ago. Filled with old and new faces in the business, he watched the show unfold with jokes, live performances and presentations for each category. He, too, was supposed to present the Oscar for Best Original Screenplay together with his former co-star Diane Keaton, who he had been working with on Something's Gotta Give. He was excited and nervous at the same time. When it was time for him to go, Keanu leaned over to his mother and let her know that he would be backstage.

Patricia smiled and handed him his phone. Y/N had given it to her, because she already knew her husband would want to call and make sure everything was going fine. He took it and thanked her, placing a soft kiss on her cheek. “I'm just going to say good night to the beans.”

“Do that, darling, I know you already miss them.” his mother grinned and pushed him out of his seat.

Returning the grin, the dark haired actor made his way backstage, his brown eyes alight with happiness. Diane was already there, talking with other co-stars from previous films and part of the backstage crew. When she saw him, the older actress waved him over.

“Keanu, dear, how have you been?” she asked once he had joined her side, pulling her into a tight hug. “I'm so glad you could come.” Diane added, patting his tux clad shoulders.

The actor returned her smile. “I'm great and I'm really happy to be here again, without Y/N, my wife, I wouldn't be.”

“Oh really?” the actress inquired, watching him with a raised eyebrow.

He nodded his head, raking the fingers of his free hand through his longer hair. “Yeah, she actually threatened me to come here or I'd have to sleep in the guest bedroom for the next four months.”

“She didn't.” His co-star giggled, putting her hand over her lips to suppress the oncoming laughter. “She sounds like she's keeping you on your toes.”

With a grin, Keanu shook his head. “Actually, we complete each other. I wouldn't change it for the world. My wife and our kids are the one thing I need.”

Diane smiled, already knowing his past and softly patted his arm. “Do you have pictures of the rascals? I mean the last time we really met it was for the movie and it's been a while since then.”

“Sure.” He pulled out his phone, looking for the recent pictures of Ava, Charlie and Ella. It was the week after you were able to leave the hospital and the first thing he did when you all got home was take a picture. The four of you settled on the large couch on the patio, Ella in your arms and Ava and Charlie sitting next to you, beaming at the camera.

The older actress smiled, pointing out at the children. “Are all those yours?”

“Well genetically speaking only Charlie and Ella.” he motioned to the boy and the baby in the picture. “Ava is Y/N daughter, her boyfriend left her when she told him she was pregnant, but well, we fell in love and I've raised her as my own. Besides she doesn't know anyone else, her real father didn't want her.”

“You have a beautiful family. Is Y/N with you tonight?” Diane would have wanted to meet the woman that finally stole Keanu's heart but she saw his smile fade a bit.

He scratched at his beard, clearing his throat before he continued. “Unfortunately not. I would have loved to introduce you, but Y/N feared with her only giving birth three weeks ago, she wouldn't make a good form on the carpet.”

“Oh, that's really unfortunate, but tell her that it's the most natural thing in the world. Y/N shouldn't feel bad about it.”

Pecking her cheek, Keanu thanked her, holding up the phone again. “This reminds me that I wanted to make a quick call before we have to present.”

“Well than, go on and maybe we'll meet up some time.”

Nodding his head, the dark haired actor moved along to a corner that was a bit secluded and quieter than the rest. He took his phone and dialed your number, hoping it wasn't too late. After the second ring you answered, instantly switching to the FaceTime function on the phone so you could see each other.

Ava and Charlie were the first ones to appear on the screen, waving excitedly as they saw their father. “Hi daddy!” “Dada!” He missed them already and waved at them like he did every time he was away filming.

“Hey bubble beans, what are you still doing awake?”

That's when your face came into view behind them. “Hey, baby. I promised they could stay awake until you presented and then they'd have to go to bed.”

“Okay.” he nodded his head. “I'm due to go out on stage, so wish me luck.”

“You'll rock it, baby.” you grinned at him. “You know that every woman is in love with you and every guy has a secret crush on you.”

Laughing, Keanu shook his head at your comment, but deep down he knew you were right. “So, is everything all right at home?”

Leaning back, you took the phone and showed him around the living room. His two sisters sat on one side and his mother-in-law on the other side of you. “We're all great. As I said, once you're done the kids will head off to bed and I'll be waiting for your return.”

“It shouldn't take us too long with how fast the ceremonial parts go, I guess around one in the night or something.” he told you, scratching absentmindedly at his beard. “I try to get back as soon as I can. Mom will be probably tired, too.”

“I'll wait for you.” you declared. “Tell Patricia she looked really great on the carpet, even mom thought so.”

“Mom looks hot, brother dear, and so do you.” Kim called, having gone to the kitchen to get herself something to drink.

You saw the blush creeping onto his cheeks and smiled at him. “You're adorable baby.” In the background you could hear someone calling him. “You gotta go, I know. I'll be waiting.”

“I love you, darling.”

“I love you, too. Ava, Charlie say good night to daddy.”

A chorus of Good Night was heard over the phone and with a last wave and I love you's he ended the call, ready to get this show over with so he could return to his family at home. All theses people that were winning may be able to take an Oscar home, but the best award was sitting in his home waiting for him to get back.

@a-really-bi-girl​ @meetmeinthematinee​ @fanficsrusz​ @ladyreapermc​ @ficsnroses​

[punkpoemprose]

December 7th- A Proper Tree

Universe: Canon (Post Frozen 2)

Rating: G (General Audiences, fluff to the max)

Length: 1892 Words

A/N: I’m catching up, expect a couple more short-ish fics. This is very very soft. I can’t describe how soft this is. There’s all sorts of fluff beats in here.

“I don’t know that this is proper,” Kristoff said as he and Anna unloaded a tree off his sled and carried them through the large double doors of the great hall. He’d given Anna the front end, if only because it meant she wouldn’t be coated in pine sap the way he was already.

“Proper schmoper,” Anna said in return as they hauled it in together. Some of the palace staff were surging ahead to offer a hand, but Kai and Gerda were waving them back frantically. Anna had been vey clear before they set out that afternoon on the hunt for a tree that it was something that she and Kristoff were going to do alone.

“I’ve had a palace decorator or someone else hired to do this my whole life. I just wanted to do it for once,” she said as they marched along to where the stand was waiting. “You know, like normal families.”

He chuckled at that. She was Queen of Arendelle, he was an ice harvester who talked to reindeer, her sister was some kind of elemental spirit thing that he still was trying to wrap his head around, and they all had an animate talking snowman to contend with. Nothing about their family was normal.

“You know normal families buy their tree in the market too, not everyone rides off into the woods and cuts one down themselves.”

“Well,” Anna said, walking her end back and around so that Kristoff could walk ahead, bringing the trunk to the front so that they could begin the process of putting it into its base. “I just thought it would be fun. And it was.”

He nodded; it certainly had been enjoyable enough. He loved taking her up into the forest any day, because it gave her a break from being Queen Anna and because it was where we felt most comfortable. While he still wasn’t quite sure that it was a “good” plan to go and find their own Christmas tree, he did know that it was a plan that had brought them both a lot of joy, and that was enough.

“Maybe we can have some help getting it into the stand?” he offered, if only because he knew that the process would go much faster with a few more hands, and because he saw Kai, while following Anna’s request to the letter, looking like he was about to have a heart attack.

Anna, from her side of the tree, sighed, but assented, and soon Kristoff found that they were both overwhelmed by palace staff putting the tree into its cast iron holder in record time. From the woodwork, grateful and smiling maids descended with chests of ornaments and kettles of popcorn.

The tree was much smaller than the ones that Kristoff remembered filling the hall in previous years, as he had been forced to select one that he and Anna could take back with them, but the awe of those around them was no less obvious than it had been any other year.

“It’s a lovely tree your majesty,” Kristoff said softly as he took his place next to Anna and watched as Kai and Gerda instructed the staff on how to lift the tree, where to set the ornament boxes and whether they should start stringing popcorn or otherwise involve themselves in preparing the décor.

Anna smiled and leaned into his side, “I knew this was going to happen.”

She gestured lazily towards the staff, who, as always, were going above and beyond in their work. Particularly to a point of all but finishing the preparations and decorating of the tree at record speed.

“They just all wanted to help,” Kristoff replied, wrapping his arm around Anna as they watched the tree get decorated for them. “They just want to do what’s ‘proper’.”

“Proper schmoper,” Anna repeated, leaning up to kiss his cheek and whisper into his ear, “Good thing we got another one.”

Kristoff didn’t need to see her wicked grin to know that it was there as she whispered into his ear. She had, of course, expected that this might happen. So when they’d cut the tree that was currently overrun with staff, Kristoff had helped Anna find a tree suitable for the library, their favorite space. She’d cut it down herself, something that she was quite proud of, and Kristoff couldn’t help but admit watching Anna work with her hands was a sight to behold. She always needed quite a bit of instruction from him, but once she was set on her course, she never stopped until she succeeded, and that was one of the many reasons why he loved her so much.

“Let’s sneak it upstairs before they notice we’re gone,” he whispered in return, earning another kiss on his cheek.

“Let’s.”

***

It was a bit smaller than the one they had brought in to the great hall, and to avoid detection they’d had to bring it around to the smaller back entrance that was closest to the Fjord. Sven had gladly pulled it over and had just as gladly gone off to the stables once Anna and Kristoff removed the thing from the sled.

Anna had been all hushes and giggles as she lead them up the stairs carrying it.

“I feel like a kid again,” she said with a smile, “I’ll have to write Elsa about this.”

Kristoff smiled, unable to see Anna as he carried the back end of the tree up the stairs but knowing that she was smiling impishly ahead of him. “I’m sure she’ll get a kick out of it. Maybe she’ll send you some snowflakes to hang.”

Anna squealed in delight as they snuck out into the hallway in front of the library, and Kristoff could finally see her, smiling just as he thought she’d be.

“The coast is clear, go, go, go!”

Kristoff was struck by the thought that if, when they were ready, they had a child even half as mischievous as Anna, they’d both be put through their paces. He was ready for it though, more than ready. He was only waiting on Anna to tell him that it was what she wanted. Letting her get settled into her new role, letting her settle into their young marriage, was important to him before he even brought up the idea of having kids. Though, he suspected, that she was as ready as he was.

He followed her as she scooted along with the tree, and once they were in the library, she dropped it a bit unceremoniously, causing him to need to readjust his grip lest the whole thing come crashing to the floor.

“I hid another tree stand in here this morning,” she said gleefully as he watched her run over to the couch they spent most of their evenings upon and in a very unqueenly manner, stoop down to rummage under it.

He chuckled to himself, stepping into the space to lean the tree against a wall before walking back to shut the door behind them. Anna’s glee was infectious, and he felt himself becoming very excited about the idea of decorating a tree with her, just the two of them.

Once she returned to him with another tree stand, smaller but otherwise identical to one they’d had downstairs, he hoisted the tree once more and placed it inside, letting her get down to the floor to tighten the screws holding the tree in place.

She was always so ready to do whatever struck her fancy without bothering to think about how she looked doing it, and Kristoff couldn’t help himself but to laugh when the only thing he could see from where he was standing, was her skirts a mess and her bum sticking out from under the tree.

She laughed in return, though he wasn’t sure if she knew that he was laughing at the sight of her so excitedly readying their tree, or if she was simply laughing because he was. Sometimes her laughter made him laugh too, so he was happy with either possibility.

Once she emerged and the tree was mostly upright in it’s stands, a bit off perfectly straight, but still good enough, he released the tree and stretched out his arms to her.

Anna ran to him gladly and it was no trouble for him to scoop her up against his chest, his arms around her back and under her knee.

“Thank you,” she said, leaning up to kiss his cheek again, “I love it!”

He smiled in return and gave her a little squeeze.

“I love you,” he said in return, grinning as she smiled radiantly at him.

She kissed him then, fully on the lips and he closed his eyes, savoring the way in which her hand moved up to his hair, mussing it more than taking off his hat had. He loved it when she played with his hair, and he knew that she enjoyed it in return. They had spent many nights in the library, just like this, kissing as she combed her fingers through his hair or made stubby little braids in it.

“Will you make ornaments with me?” she asked softly against his lips, their foreheads pressed together.

He hummed in return. He would do anything she asked.

“I can’t promise they’ll be very good though,” he added after a moment, sending her into another bout of laughter.

“They don’t have to be any good, they just need to be ours.”

She leaned in and kissed him again, her little nose bumping his much larger one in the process.

“I just want to be able to tell our kids about today, maybe show them some awful paper monstrosity we put together and say ‘this was from mama and papa’s first Christmas after they were married’, and have them want to put it on the tree and make some little paper monstrosities of their own that we’ll treasure until we’re old and wrinkly.”

Hearing Anna talk about their life like that, with kids and growing old together, it made his heart swell. He kissed her, holding her as tightly as he could to his chest and smiling as she giggled and kissed him back just as passionately.

“I can’t wait,” he said when she pulled away and he set her carefully on the ground.

“To see me old and wrinkly?”

He chuckled, “To make a paper monstrosity with you that our kids will love, but yeah, that too.”

As she ran off to fetch some popcorn and supplies and to insist to the castle staff that she and her husband not be disturbed for the rest of the evening, Kristoff looked fondly at the slightly crooked little tree they’d cut down together. He knew that it was far from perfect, but when he looked at it the way Anna did, he felt like it was the most beautiful little tree he’d ever seen.

He loved Anna with all of his heart, and now, having her talk about the family they’d make together, he decided that even the imperfect things that they made, were always going to be perfect because it was theirs. At least he hoped so, for the sake of the clumpy walking, clumsy, overly excited and mischievous babies he saw in his and Anna’s future.

[luvknow]

KINGPIN | han jisung

genre: hitman!jisung x fem!reader | light angst ; swearing ; drug cartel ; guns ; blood summary: your dad, kingpin of a secret drug cartel, hires a hitman slash bodyguard named jisung so both yours and his life are well-protected. you find your life is a little more exciting with jisung around, but not always in the best way. wc: 15k

There’s an eerie chill in the company building as you made your way to your Father’s grande office that sat ten floors below the surface - The Office in Hell, as you’d call it. Maybe it was the poor insulation of the windows or the mob of men who encircled you and invaded your space bubble, but them and the chilling air was something you could never get used to. The awkward elevator music going down didn’t ease your nerves, either. Why your Father ever insisted on such measures like an entire escort crew for your ‘protection’, you’ll never understand, but you knew better than to argue. Besides, you practically grew up with these men - it was like you had eight uncles.

Well, some of them watched you grow up. Some had, uh, disappeared and had to be replaced in the process. That’s daddy for ya.

The extravagant but incredibly outdated seemingly infinite corridor had the huge cliche oak doors at the end. The two handles, gilded in bright gold, were shaped like the Rod of Aesculapius in honor of you getting accepted into medical school. Although you didn’t follow your Dad’s footsteps and go to business school, he was still very proud of his little Princess for making a name for yourself and this was his daily reminder of how accomplished you’ve become. Business school was what brought this crazy kind of life upon your father anyways, and he’d worry everyday if you got involved in this lifestyle. So he thanked God you got into med school.

Two of the men opened the door for you as if even the Rod of Aesculapius did not deserve to be touched by your hands. It’s been a while since you’ve visited home that you forgot how much they treated you like royalty, like an actual princess. You supposed they weren’t exactly wrong… Drug Pusher Princess had a certain ring to it, didn’t it?

Your Dad sat in his favorite leather chair staring at some paperwork with his glasses resting on the tip of his tiny nose. If this were anywhere but ten floors below, you might have believed he was doing real paperwork for the Soju company, but the wads of cash next to the wooden cart of cocaine made it less convincing.

You saw your Dad’s eyes light up and sparkle when he realized it was you. “My little girl!”

“Hi, Dad,” you greeted warmly before walking over and giving him a big hug. Kingpin of a massive drug cartel, CEO of an international Soju brand, and Professor at the University, your Dad’s number one job was to be your number one supporter and love you endlessly. Really, you couldn’t hate him for living life on the edge like this after he and your Mother got divorced - he was still the best Dad anyone could ask for, and that was the most important part, right? Being filthy rich helped you oversee the cocaine, too.

“It’s not everyday a Dad gets to see his only child. This calls for a drink. Jisung! Get the good whiskey from the glass case!” he called into the neighboring room.

“Yes, sir,” you heard an unfamiliar voice.

“Dad, it’s like one in the afternoon…”

“A celebration does not wait for five o’ clock, Princess.”

From the room over came a man who you’ve never seen before carrying a tray with ice, two crystal tumblers, and a huge vial of liquid gold whiskey. He must be new, at least in the last couple of years since the last time you’ve visited. He was definitely different than the rest of your Dad’s henchmen. He was on the shorter side, so it probably wasn’t his strength that got him hired. Maybe he was intelligent? A hacker, perhaps?

The man could tell you were staring - no, analyzing him, so he dared to look back. He knew better than to glare at the King’s Princess, but you could tell he didn’t like how you were already judging him after five whole seconds.

After pouring your drinks, handing them off, and exiting the room you dared to ask. “Fresh meat?”

“Hardly,” your Dad chuckled. “I hired him shortly after your last visit a couple of years ago.”

“What does he do?”

“He’s my right hand and my Hitman.”

“Whoa, what!? Dad! You said you would never do that kind of thing!” you whined worriedly.

“You don’t understand how dangerous this business is.”

“Uh, yeah I do! How many times have you called me while I was doing my rotations at the hospital to keep an eye out for your men? I literally see everything.”

“That’s exactly why I hired Jisung, a Grade-A Hitman. I don’t want to involve you anymore than I have to already, so hopefully he’ll lessen my calls to you while you’re on duty. And you don’t want your old man to end up in the hospital either, or worse yet dead, now do you?”

“No…”

“Ok then, end of discussion.”

“No, not the end!” you leaned over his desk to whisper so neither that Jisung guy nor even the wall of men behind you could hear. “Where did you find him, anyways? Off the street? What if he’s working for someone? Or-or worse, trying to overtake your empire?”

“With Jeongin’s help, we did an extremely extensive background and everything. No record of him ever getting involved with another group. And to answer your question, yes, I found him off the street.”

“What the hell, Dad! You’re so careless!”

“I’ll drink to that.” Without your consent, he clinked your two glasses together with a cheeky grin on his dumb, wrinkly face. “Lighten up, Buttercup. There’s no need for your inherent apprehension on such a happy day.”

You didn’t answer before sipping on whiskey with the glass between your pouty lips. Your eyes naturally drifted around the room trying to see how much it changed since the time you cried to your Dad about how you thought about dropping out due to the immense pressure. There was a place for everything, and everything was in its place, so nothing had changed other than the unfamiliar man in the next room. While your Dad busied himself with another glass, you dared to get up and peak into the room.

Jisung was wiping down a pistol. Knowing that he was ‘off the streets’, you bet it was unregistered. The sight of a gun and being in its presence really made your skin crawl. You didn’t know Jisung at all, but if he was your Dad’s Hitman, there was no way he’d be reckless with a pistol, right? So at least you knew he was skilled with a weapon. He wore all black and the piece of clothing that stood out to you the most was his leather jacket.

He noticed you peaking in almost immediately and raised his brow. What could the accomplished Princess be looking for? You watched him eye you up and down so slowly that you felt like you might as well have been naked. His gazing and the slight curl on his pretty lips was incredibly intimate and hardly appropriate, especially for a first meeting. Maybe seduction was part of his specialty. Or was he mocking you with it?

“Who are you?” you asked hoping your tone was strong enough to hide your embarrassment.

“Jisung.”

“Where are you from?”

“Off the street,” he teased. “At least that’s what you assume, right?”

“Were you eavesdropping?”

“It’s hard not to when it’s my job.”

“Your job is to protect my Dad, not eavesdrop on uninvited conversations.”

“Spying is just a small fraction of my job, love.”

“Don’t call me that.”

“Are you picking a fight with a Hitman already, Sugarplum?”

Your Dad interjected at the perfect time to break up the tension between his precious prodigal Princess and his right-hand unbounded Knight. Jisung was not bothered since he was accustomed to arguing with the enemy, but you on the other hand might as well have steam coming out your ears. You may have gotten the last word, but the smirk on Jisung’s lips let you know that he didn’t care that you won this battle because in the end, he was going to win the war.

“Not a fight,” you corrected before flashing your Dad a fake smile. “Just some bantering.”

“As you always do - it’s what you’re best at, after all. Just like your mother ~”

“Dad!”

Jisung didn’t try very hard to hide his snickering and now you could check off ‘Dad embarrasses you in front of his Hitman’ from The Drug Cartel Bingo sheet.

“Are we going out for lunch, or what?” Your Dad began to push you out of the room before you could object. “Jisung, I trust you can take care of my office while I’m away.”

“Of course, sir.”

“Excellent. I’ll be sure to order you something.”

“A bit generous for office-sitting, don’t you think - ow!” Dad nudged your arm with his bony elbow, shoving you through the doorway and forcing you out the office in general so you both could finally get going to lunch.

“You were never nice to strangers, you know,” he scolded while you two and eight men stuffed into the elevator. “Every time we went to parties or ran into friends on the street, you were always so suspicious of them.”

“Yeah, because all the girls at school only liked me for our money, so I figured the apple didn’t fall too far from the tree.”

“Well, you weren’t wrong. But Jisung’s different, ok? He’s a good kid, he’s just a kid.”

“‘Just a kid’, yeah a kid you found off the street who can wield a pistol? Seriously, he’s a total stranger! What makes him so special!?”

“Ok I lied, he’s not from the streets, or whatever you kids call the bad neighborhoods these days.” Dad made you wait until you both got into his completely blacked-out car limo thing before continuing. “He’s one of my teacher’s assistance.”

“You’re kidding, right? You have a TA as your Hitman? Is this not like… conflict of interest?”

“Not when he’s my best and most loyal student.”

“How did you convince him to join you in this kind of life?”

“He doesn’t look like it, but Jisung’s a total suck up, so it wasn’t very hard. Of course he was surprised at first when I offered the position, but completely willing. Did the whole drug test, psychological test, multiple physicals, hazed him a bit and everything - he’s perfect. I like him a lot, too - might even offer him a permanent job once he graduates and it doesn’t look like he’s leaving anytime soon, so you better play nice and get used to his company. He’s family now.”

“These men are not real family, Dad.”

“Tell that to your eight uncles.”

Lunch was filled with the most extravagant salads, daytime cocktails, and Dad only ordered the finest cuts of meats. Even for his Hitman, he ordered nothing short of a Michelin star special. There were many moments in your life when you thought your Dad was too nice for his own good and your ‘inherent apprehension’ as he worded it was at an all time high towards everyone around him because of those thoughts. It would break your heart if anyone were to get too close and bring down his entire empire he built just so you, him, and even your Mom could live a happily and worry-less. You didn’t care how many Hitmen or guards he considered family - you were his real and only family and you were the only one truly looking out for him, even if that meant you would be put in danger.

Just don’t tell Dad you care too much, otherwise he really might think you’ll take over as the head one day just so he wouldn’t have to do it anymore.

When you both arrived back to his office, Jisung was exactly where you left him - except instead of cleaning a pistol, he was cleaning a silencer. Immediately upon seeing you and Dad, he got up to bow. Ugh, he was a total suck up!

“See, I don’t even make him do that,” your Dad defended. “Most loyal TA, I’m telling you.”

You only rolled your eyes. “I’m heading back to the hospital.”

“Jisung will escort you.”

“No,” you said flatly.

“C’mon, it’ll give you to some bonding time! And the hospital isn’t exactly in the safest part of the city.”

“Oh my God, I’ll be fine -”

“That’s an order,” Dad said in his strictly no funny business tone. “Am I seeing you again soon or through facetime for the next two years?”

“I promise I’ll visit more often. I just hate going up and down the elevator and walking the mile-long hallway.”

“I’ll hold you to that promise. Just ask one of your uncles to carry you next time, or something. Jisung, text me when she’s at the hospital.”

“Yes, sir.”

You didn’t even bother arguing your Dad’s over-protective measures. “Bye, Dad.”

“Bye, sweetie!”

You’re out of the door before Jisung could catch up and he thought how this must be the med student in you. He clearly remembered that was how all the med students walked around his campus like they always had somewhere to be and were more important than all the other ‘smaller’ students. He was never a fan of them and he wondered if he was about to add another person to his list.

Why was Dad’s elevator music always this awkward and cliche?

“So… you TA for my Dad?” you asked, trying to play nice, as your Dad had put it.

He chuckled a bit before responding - or maybe it was a scoff. “So you figured out I’m not from the streets?”

“Yeah, I’m sorry about that… I’m not as trusting as my Dad.”

“No worries. You’re just smart. I would harass a stranger if they got near my family, too.”

“I didn’t harass you…”

“What would you call it then?”

“Being protective.”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

Jisung’s car was already outside of the company building. At least you think it’s his car, but could a business grad student really afford an all-black Ferrari? There was no fucking way.

“This is your car?” you asked incredulously.

He thought you’d be used to these types of cars by the way your Dad lived his life, but maybe he was wrong. “Yes and no - more like your Dad gave it to me.”

“He’s just giving out cars now?”

“No ~ Think of it as a business car.”

“Business cars are shitty silver-colored sedans that have to be manually opened with a key, not a shiny black Ferrari with butterfly doors!”

“Would you rather take the subway?”

“No…”

“Well then,” he began before fluttering the car doors open. “Your chariot awaits, Princess.”

“I have a name, you know.”

“Your chariot awaits, _____.”

Damn, so he knew your name. Was that all part of being a Hitman? Knowing their name, their background, their entire life… or did he just have to know what their face looked like before he shot a bullet through it? Did he just know your name, did he know everything about you, or somewhere in between?

The beginning of the car ride was silent until Jisung hit the highway and began weaving in and out of the lanes like those douchey car dudes who revved up their engines any chance they could get to show off how big their dick was. What the hell was wrong with this guy!? He must have been used to this kind of driving from all the chasing or whatever the hell he does, but that didn’t mean he should be driving like this with a good ol’ civilian like yourself in the passenger’s seat!

“Are you trying to take me to the hospital or put me in one!?” you shrieked loudly while gripping on to the handle on the roof like your life depended on it.

“What do you mean? This is normal driving for me.”

“You’re trying to kill me, aren’t you? Is it because I said you’re from the street? I said I was sorry! Is this part of your scare tactic, or something?”

“I could never hurt you. I’d lose my job,” he teased.

“Then please, for the love of God, slow down!”

“I would if we weren’t already here.”

“Huh?” Looking outside the tinted windows, as much as you hated to admit it, Jisung was right. You arrived safely in front of your hospital with your heart beating faster than his driving. “Oh… That was fast…”

“You’re welcome.”

The sarcastic man left the car first, running around to flip your door open like some chivalrous Knight. It was weird labeling him as a Knight - that and Hitman weren’t necessarily synonymous, but both were somehow appropriate. The door flipped open and Jisung held his hand out for you, but you took a pass on that.

“Thank you for driving,” you muttered to him, feeling a bit awkward. “I guess I’ll be seeing you around?”

“Of course you will. Have a nice day, ______.”

“W-Wait!” Jisung turned back around and raised his brow, which you now figured was his curiosity quirk. It was quite cute, but don’t tell him that. “How much do you know about me?”

He pursed his lips tightly together as if he was too embarrassed to answer. “Do you really want to know?”

“Never mind, you already answered it.”

Then he breaks out laughing. Ah, even cuter than his eyebrow quirk… What was with you and simple things that boys do that made your heart leap? You hated it. Well, he was definitely charming like a Knight.

“Have a nice day, _____,” he repeated. “Call me if you ever need a ride anywhere.”

“Thanks, but I don’t have your number.”

“I’ll text you so you’ll have it.”

“Wait, you have my number?”

Jisung only winked before getting in his car and driving off as fast as you arrived.

“Have a nice day, too,” you muttered to no one. “This is why I hate mobsters.”

When you walked into your unit, you saw all of your lady classmates eyeing you teasingly. Oh no, did they see everything? Now the whole department’s going to know about Jisung because for some reason med students do not know how to shut their mouths when it came to juicy gossip. They erupted in a song of oohs and ahhs, but luckily it was only your closest friend Somi who rushed to your side with heart eyes and open ears.

“Is that the famous guy you’ve been seeing?” she teased. “You didn’t tell me he was a whole man.”

“What are you talking about?” you asked innocently.

“Oh, come on, the entire hospital saw you come out of his car! We could hear the engine from a mile away. No one expected little _____ to date a man like that ~! He’s tasty, dude.”

“Somi!”

“A whole ass meal.”

“Ok, that’s enough!” you blushed.

“He’s hot.”

“Look, I’m not seeing him! He just works for my Dad, that’s all.”

“Well, maybe you should pretend you are.”

“What do you mean?”

“Dr. San didn’t seem too happy seeing you with him ~”

Dr. Choi San, the apple of everyone in the entire hospital’s eyes. Name any person in any of the departments, patient or faculty, and they’ll tell you how much and what they love about Dr. Choi San. You were no exception - you’ve had a major crush on him since your volunteering years as an undergrad student and he was still in med school. If you thought he was hot then, well damn, how would you describe him now? Like McDreamy from Grey’s Anatomy? You’d talk here and there, and at times you’d follow him on rotations, but there wasn’t much interaction beyond that. You simply admired him from afar at this point. But to hear he’s upset about you being with Jisung? A total stranger? Man, if only your ego could fly higher than space.

“Really?” you grinned happily. “Do you think he’s jealous?”

“Oh, yeah.”

“Well, in that case then yes, that is the guy I’m seeing.”

“Ugh, you dog… I love this side of you. So what’s his name? Does he have any brothers?”

Let’s see how long you can pull this off.

unknown [13:15]: Hey, Princess. It’s Jisung.

old man [02:45]: Hey, hun. Are you working overnight?

you [02:48]: Yes, why? What did you do this time?

old man [02:49]: Room 430.

“Dammit,” you cursed. A long, tired, heavy sigh escaped your lips as you dragged your feet to the fourth floor. Dad had a pretty good streak of keeping his men away from your hospital, but at 2:45 in the morning was the regression back to day zero.

Room 430 was one of the fancier and completely private rooms, so it was just one of your Dad’s men that was hospitalized. You walked in expecting to only see him unconscious on the bed, but you were welcomed with that and an unscathed Jisung reading next to him. It’s been a couple of weeks since you last saw him, so it was a little awkward, but you were mostly embarrassed because now he’s seen you in your scrubs and white coat with messy hair and droopy eyes.

“Hey,” he greeted casually.

“Hi. You look completely fine, what are you doing here?”

“It was my fault this happened, so I wanted to stay until he wakes up. Plus, I was hoping I’d see you.”

“Did you need something?”

“No. I’ve just missed you since our first meeting. That’s all,” he teased.

You rolled your eyes. “Ha ha… But you’re ok though, right? No bullet or stab wounds or whatever you guys go through nowadays?”

“Completely fine. No need to worry, love.”

“I said to not call me that!” You sighed again for the millionth time that shift. What was the point of arguing with him? “What happened tonight? Why did you say this was your fault?”

“Some guys tried to scam us during a delivery and we got ambushed. They were merely pawns in the enemy’s operation though, it didn’t take long for us to eliminate them, but Mingi here got stabbed from behind and I failed to watch his back.”

“Same old thug shit as usual.”

“Exactly. God, I feel so stupid.” The Hitman ran a hand through his messy hair before rubbing the tired from his eyes. You almost felt bad. His sleep schedule must be as fucked up as yours was, maybe even worse. Who knows what times of the day Dad needed him? But what do you say to a Hitman having a crisis?

“It’s not easy working for my Dad, but you’re doing fine. He likes you.”

“Yeah? How would you know?”

“You’re alive, right?” You saw Jisung’s eyes widen in fear for a split second before you laughed. It was entertaining to see his face express something other than pure cockiness. “I’m kidding! Half kidding… he told me likes you.”

“Wow, look at you. Who knew you could smile,” he teased again. He liked your smile. It was charming in its own way - in a way that was you. He liked the color of your blush after he told you, too.

“Shut up… What did the doctor say about Mingi?”

“He’ll be just fine,” a familiar voice said.

Behind you stood Dr. San with his signature charming smile on his lips and a clipboard with Mingi’s paperwork. You felt your heart leap in your throat, stopping you dead silent and that did not go past Jisung. The way your eyes widened, how your back stiffened - you were a totally different person around this guy. You saw Jisung do the eyebrow thing at you and you glared back, telling him that he better shut up or else.

“How are you, _____?” Dr. San asked gently.

“Good! I mean, I’m well. Tired, but well!” Oh God, were you stuttering?

“Yeah, overnight shifts can do that to you. Do you know these men…?” he hesitated, mostly indicating to Jisung rather than the unconscious patient on the bed.

“Close family friends.” At least you weren’t lying. “How is Mingi?”

“He didn’t lose too much blood. He has his stitches, so once he wakes up he’s ready to leave whenever.”

“And the reason for the IV?”

“He seemed dehydrated, which may be the reason he’s unconscious. Rather than fainting from blood loss, he fainted from the sight of it. The IV should help him recover and get his fluids in check quicker.”

You couldn’t help your face from falling flat. God, what kind of weak men did your Dad employ nowadays that they couldn’t even stop an ambush and fainted from the sight of their own blood!? Really, it was unbelievable, and even Jisung thought the synopsis was ridiculous.

“Thank you for the debrief. I’ll take it from here.”

“Sounds good.” Dr. San headed towards the door, but stopped himself and laid a hand on your shoulder. You instantaneously tensed up and prayed it went unnoticed, though Dr. San was known for paying close attention to the small details. “Call me if you ever need anything,” he said. And then he was gone.

“S-Sounds good!” you called out the door.

“He reminds me of those doctors on all the dramas,” Jisung scoffed. “Totally theatrical with that exit. What’s with that guy? Is he in love with you, or something?”

“More like the other way around… Although rumor has it the day you dropped me off a couple of weeks ago, he was not too happy to see that. Why, are you jealous?”

“You like that guy!? Why!?”

“He’s a smoking hot doctor, what else can I say?”

“He has no personality! Where’s the gall? The entertainment? What a bore… so he’s threatened by me, huh?”

“He… may be jealous because I may or may not have told a few friends that you���re this guy I’ve been seeing…”

“Oh?”

Jisung got up from his seat with the widest smirk on his playful little lips. Even his strut to you was playful, like you boosted his ego out of this atmosphere and into another one. He ended up centimeters in front of you, leaning his face in to see if he could get some sort of reaction out of you the same way Dr. San did, but better because HE was better. He heard your breath hitch in your throat and that was all he needed.

“I don’t remember consenting to this, Princess.”

“I know, I’m sorry! I got a little too excited hearing Dr. San was jealous… And everyone would not shut up about asking if I was seeing anyone.”

“Are you even seeing someone?”

“No, but whenever I said no, all the nurses tried to set me up with their sons so before I trapped myself into a series of bad blind dates, I lied and said yes and now here we are… But by next week, everyone will forget I ever said anything, so there’s no need to be upset, right?”

“Does that mean I win in the end?”

“Win what, against Dr. San?”

“Mhm.”

“I mean, I guess? I didn’t think this situation called for a winner or loser…”

“Silly girl, there’s always a winner and a loser no matter the circumstance. And like hell am I going to lose you to a guy like that. I always win in the end, anyways. So if you must, by all means say I’m your incredibly sexy, irresistible, and delicious boyfriend.”

“Jeez, are you always this competitive? And I’m not a trophy…” you muttered. “Why don’t you go home and get some rest? It seems like you’ve had a long day.”

“I did, but I’m not tired. When does your shift end?”

“At six in the morning.”

“I’ll wait for you. You look like you could use the company and we can get breakfast after.”

You wanted to object, and maybe it’s because you’re a little disoriented due to lack of sleep or because breakfast sounds so good right now, but you didn’t. “I’d like that.”

“See, look at us getting along. Your father will be happy to hear about this.”

“Oh, he’ll be ecstatic.”

“Why the hyperbole?”

“If he hears stuff like I’m getting along with his Hitman or anything remotely related to The Business then he’ll think I’m that much closer to taking over.”

“And that’s the last thing you want, right?”

“Exactly -!”

“_____, get back to work,” Dr. San said uncharacteristically strict while passing the room.

“We can talk more during breakfast,” Jisung reassured. “Have fun with the rest of your shift.”

“Thanks. You have my number for some odd reason, so text me if you need me.”

Jisung’s laugh was the last thing you heard before you left the room with a newfound burst of energy.

Maybe you were wrong to judge him too quickly. He seemed like a totally normal guy, right? But no, that couldn’t be it. He was first and foremost your Dad’s Hitman. There was nothing totally normal about it at all. But at least he acted normal around you. That was all that mattered for now.

The last hours of your shift went as normal other than receiving a lot of compliments of how you’ve adjusted to the overnight shift life quite easily. Even Dr. San was giving you more attention. Could it be because Jisung was here and Dr. San was feeling jealous and territorial? No, _____, you were in over your head… Well, whatever the reason, you’d have to tell Jisung later that he was winning.

“That guy is yummier up close,” Somi giggled brightly just as she was clocking in and you were clocking out. “Good catch. You should bring him to the faculty party as your plus one.” You groaned as a reply and left without saying anything. “Does he have any brothers or not!?”

The rising sun was shining brightly through the floor-to-ceiling high glass windows in the lobby. Your Dad was one of the few commissioners who donated to the hospital so they could redo the lobby and it turned out so beautiful. It was the little things like this that made the overnight shift worth it. Jisung texted you to meet him outside and he already had the car pulled up and ready to go. The sun hit him and his car just at the right angle as if whatever God that was up in the sky was letting you know that hey, this dude isn’t so bad! Give him a chance and be his friend! But again, maybe you were being delusional due to lack of sleep.

Like a gentleman, he opened the door for you once again.

“You don’t have to keep doing that,” you told him.

“Princesses never open their own doors.”

“Why do you keep calling me that? Am I a prissy brat, or something?”

“Before I met you, Mr. _____ kept on referring to you as his Princess. I guess I got attached to the nickname. I kinda like it, don’t you?”

“No!”

“Fine fine, I won’t call you that anymore ~ Whatever the Princess wants.”

You buckled your seat belt extra tight and held onto the overhead handle before Jisung even settled in his seat. He stared blankly at you, unable to believe that you were being this extra and dorky. So he’s a crazy driver, what student wasn’t these days!? He didn’t bother responding - rather, he just drove safely like a nerd.

“See, is that so hard to do all the time?” you scolded.

You had absolutely no idea where Jisung was taking you. He didn’t even ask where you might want to go. He could be kidnapping you, for all you know, and you were letting him! The idea sounded ridiculous, but it was all fine when he pulled up to a local diner.

“I know what you’re thinking - it’s not your typical bottomless mimosa and avocado toast kind of place. But their french toast is to die for.”

“Is that really what you think of me?”

“It’s what I think about all daughters with a terrifyingly powerful father. Besides, I don’t know anything about you.”

“You’re such a liar! You knew my number before I even met you! I bet you know everything about me!”

“Not everything ~ Like I didn’t know you could look so good in scrubs,” he winked. “I only know the basic stuff - like your academic and athletic accomplishments, your allergies, your past pets, favorite color, etcetera etcetera.”

“Yeah, that’s totally basic knowledge… How did you even find all of that out?”

“Mr. _____ gave me your file the day before you came to visit. He thinks we’re going to be spending a lot of time together, so might as well get to know you a little bit.”

“Couldn’t we have done that the normal way? You know, like a regular ass conversation? Wait, I have a file?”

“It sounds worse than it is. It’s actually kind of cute. Like his weird mobster version of a scrapbook.”

The diner looked like those old school types you see in American movies. The booths and bar stools were a candy red, the walls were turquoise, everything was accented with tacky chrome, and there was a jukebox busting out the oldies in the corner. Although this place was a bit odd, it was still home-y in its own way. The hostess sat you two at one of the booths by the window that overlooked the busy city.

The menu was ginormous. There was a whole side just for drinks! On normal days when you had class or had rotations in the morning, your go-to drink was anything with three espresso shots in it. You can’t remember the last time you had a tall glass of cold orange juice with your food. Breakfast was always one of the hardest foods to choose from because both sweet and savory options were just too good to pass up. You were probably just shopping with your eyes. You trusted Jisung, for whatever reason, on his french toast suggestion, so you’ll order that.

The man of the hour already knew what he wanted to order and was flipping through his phone while you were looking. You noticed all of the bloody cuts and bruises that dressed both of his hands and your loud gasp made him look up at you.

“What?” he asked.

“Why didn’t you tell me about this?” Instinctively, as if Jisung was one of your kiddie patients, you tenderly took one of his hands and ran your thumbs over the dried-out scars. He hissed in pain, so they must have been deep cuts.

“They’re just small cuts, it’s not like I could die like Mingi.”

“But they could get infected! Who knows what rusty, dirty stuff you touched last night. We have to go back after breakfast so I can take care of it.”

“You mean so you can take care of me ~?”

“No, you idiot -”

“Are you two lovebirds ready?” the cheery waitress asked.

“Huh? Lovebirds?” You guessed it did kind of look that way because of how you were holding Jisung’s hand, but didn’t the scrubs and his blood (was it even HIS blood?) sort of prompt a stranger’s eyes that you guys weren’t together? … Ok, maybe not. “We’re not -”

“Yes, we’re ready!” Jisung held onto your hand tightly before you could pull away. He didn’t have to look at your face to know you were mortified and that only made him stifle his giggle. “I’ll have the cinnamon french toast special. How about you, baby?”

Hey Google, what’s the cruelest way to kill your Dad’s Hitman? “I… will have the same thing. With orange juice, please.”

“Coming right up!”

She took both menus and the second she walks into the kitchen, Jisung is lying down on the booth laughing it up like a hyena.

“You should see your face!” he giggled.

“You think you’re so funny, huh?”

“I think I’m hilarious.”

“If I don’t like my food, you’re paying.”

A bullet whizzed in between you and Jisung and then there was shattered glass everywhere. Time paused. There wasn’t enough time to cover your face, so bits and pieces stuck to one side of your cheek and you can feel the blood trickle down like they were tears. While the rest of the restaurant ducked under the tables and counters for cover, you were too mortified to move on your own.

From under the table, Jisung took your hands and pulled you down with him before other gunshots were fired.

He picked off as much glass as he could on your cheeks before holding your face in his hands. Your eyes couldn’t focus on one space at a time like you were trying to take in as much detail of what was happening as possible, but the tears were getting in the way. You were terrified.

“Hey, look at me,” he said sternly. You did as you were told, but then the tears started to fall. This couldn’t be real. “Listen to me, ok? Stay here and don’t move.”

“D-Don’t leave me…!”

“I promise I’m not leaving without you. I’ll be right back, ok? Promise me you won’t move.”

You nodded, wondering how could he be so calm under this circumstance? He must be used to it, after all. Before leaving, he pulled out his shiny pistol from his hidden holster and made his way towards the shooter or shooters.

From the broken window, you could hear indistinguishable yelling and multiple gunshots. He was alone out there. And who knew how many shooters he was up against! There was no way he could do this alone. But you were defenseless and had absolutely no way of helping other than doing what you were told and staying put under the table.

Then the shooting stopped. For a solid five minutes, there was complete silence, with the exception of your loud breathing and other innocent people’s soft crying. Everyone’s breath hitched in their throat when the doorbell rang. You heard heavy boots travel towards your direction and that’s when you knew you were the target from this whole thing all along. Daughter of a Kingpin, of course! What else could be the reason? Were they going to kill you? No, that would be stupid. What would they gain out of that? They must be here to kidnap you and force your Dad to pay them in billions so you could come home.

The boots stopped right at your table and you felt like you could die right there. You had no clue what this man even looked like, but he was easily the most terrifying man you’ve had the pleasure of meeting. He didn’t move at all while he was there. It was like he was teasing you, like he was making you wait and then when you least expected it, BAM! He’d drag you from under the table and throw you in their blacked-out van.

Another gunshot was heard from inside the diner and the man in the heavy boots fell to the floor with a big thud that vibrated the whole restaurant.

Jisung was the next face you saw when he crouched down to check on you. Before he could ask if you were ok, you lunged out from under the table and went straight into his arms.

“Are you ok?” he whispered while holding you tightly. You could only nod while your face was buried in his shoulder. “We gotta go, Princess. You can fall in love with me some other time.”

Reluctantly, you pulled away. There were splatters of blood all over the poor Hitman’s face and it was horrifying.

“Blood…” you muttered, trying to wipe it off.

“It’s not mine,” he reassured. “C’mon, I need to take you home.”

He took your hand and the both of you booked it to his car before any of the diner staff or customers could question you. Just outside, the streets were empty of people and cars and sirens could be heard far off in the distance. It was a total mess in the parking lot with five huge ass men laying in their own pool of blood.

“Holy shit,” you said, all wide-eyed.

“Yeah… This job gets a little messy at times,” Jisung sighed.

The car ride to your apartment is silent. Hell, you didn’t even question how he knew where you lived without having to ask you. All of what just happened happened so fast… like in a matter of seven minutes. You’re still completely shaken up about it, but what mattered was that both you and Jisung left as a whole with no major wounds. You had a bloody cheek with glass in it, but did Jisung even get a scratch on him?

He parked the car and did the courtesy of walking you all the way up to your room so he knew you were safe. The air between you two was tense at the moment and now might not be the most appropriate time for Jisung to be thinking this, but holy shit, were you filthy rich or what. The lobby of your apartment complex had a full blown marble fountain smack dab in the middle of it! True, you were in medical school, so your money was hard-earned, but didn’t your Dad own this building, anyways? And of course you lived on the highest floor in the farthest corner of the entire complex. You must have an incredible view.

“Don’t leave home for the rest of the day, ok?” Jisung demanded once you reached your room. “If you have work later today or tonight or any other day, call me. I’ll drive you.”

“Ok, but you have to come inside first.”

“Why?”

“You need to clean up. Your scratched up hands, all the blood, you can’t go out in public like this the whole day.”

“I can do that later -”

“Please?” you begged. “I don’t want to be alone right now.”

With your teary puppy dog eyes, how was he supposed to refuse? “Ok, but I can’t stay long.”

Your home isn’t exactly how he imagined it. Rather than huge expensive paintings and fancy golden vases and marble counter tops, your home was quite simple and clean. Minimalist was a good way to describe it, with bits and pieces of what made your home totally you. His personal favorite touches were the scattered coffee mugs, the ginormous fuzzy rug in the living room, and pictures of you and your friends hung up in different places.

You led him to the kitchen table. “Sit,” you ordered like he was your puppy.

He did as he was told while you ran to the bathroom to get your emergency kit full of all kinds of stuff that only hospital faculty could get their hands on. You came back with a huge plastic case and Jisung’s eyes widened.

“Damn, do you have the whole hospital in that thing!? You’re not gonna give me a shot, are you?”

“No, you idiot.”

“Good, I don’t do well with needles.”

“You don’t do well with needles, but you can shoot a perfect head shot?”

“Yes, and never forget that.”

You started at his face, taking a damp warm towel and wiping off the sticky blood. Jisung could have easily done it himself, but it was nice to be cared for like this once in a while - like he meant something to someone. He watched how your eyes moved bit by bit to make sure you wiped his face clean entirely. You could feel his eyes etching his name into your soul, but somehow you were able to ignore it this time. Maybe because you were too busy worrying.

“Stop worrying,” Jisung scolded.

“How can you tell?”

He then harshly poked your forehead. “Your eyebrows make you look stressed. You’re going to get wrinkles if you keep doing that.”

“Sorry,” was all you could mutter out before you started cleaning his hands.

His hands were surprisingly warm - a striking contrast to your icy ones, like your blood was running cold. But they were soft - much softer than his calloused ones, and they felt nice. First, you wiped away the dirt and dry blood. Then, you took out the sanitizing solution and cotton swabs.

“This is going to sting,” you warned.

“Like… A lot?”

“Oh, yeah.”

“Wait wait wait - ah -!” he shrieked loudly while yanking his hands to his chest. “Bro, that shit hurts!”

“Give me your hands back!”

“No!”

“Oh my God, how old are you?”

“Old enough to reject medical care if I want to!”

“You’re such a child. Some bad ass Hitman you are,” you sighed before packing up the emergency kit and putting it back in the bathroom. “If that gets infected, don’t come crawling back to me to fix it.”

You take a moment for yourself in the bathroom to calm down and try to process what happened this morning. You got into Jisung’s car, drove to the diner, ordered food, and then got in the middle of a shoot out. Somewhere in between there had to be some indication the shooting was going to happen, but you couldn’t recall any suspicions. Maybe they were just too good and neither you nor Jisung noticed them. Even though that was all over with, who’s to say that it won’t happen again any time soon? And how was your Dad going to clean up all the blood?

After collecting yourself, you joined Jisung back in the kitchen only to see him talking on the phone.

“I’ll be right there,” he said before hanging up.

“Is that my Dad?” you asked.

“Yeah. He wants me back at the office so I can tell him what happened. I told him you were safe and sound here at home.”

“You’re leaving…?”

Jisung walked up to you and laid his heavy hands on your heavy shoulders. “I have to report back to him now that you’re involved. If I don’t soon, you could be in really great danger, and I don’t want that to happen. Like I said, call me or text me if you need a ride anywhere, need to go to class or work, or just want to talk. Understand?” You nodded, trusting his every word. “Good. Now get some rest, Sleeping Beauty.”

“Can you text me once you get to my Dad’s?”

“Are you worrying about me now? A little backwards, isn’t it?” he teased. “I’ll text you as soon as I get there. I promise.”

Jisung left you to your own devices and you spent the following half hour closing all of the blinds, covering all of the windows, and crawling under your fluffy blankets waiting for Jisung to text you he was safe at your Dad’s. For a Hitman, he was acting more like a bodyguard than anything, but you can’t complain. Without him, you’re sure you would have been kidnapped by whomever was at the diner. You’re thankful for him, and he’s great company, too. Your mundane life was a little more exciting when he was around.

jisung [07:56]: I’m here at your Dad’s.

you [07:57]: good.

jisung [07:57]: Raincheck on breakfast?

you [07:59]: only if you’re paying.

jisung [08:01]: Sure thing. Rest well, _____.

You fell into a deep sleep.

The next time you saw Jisung was the following day when you told him you had an 8:00 am lecture. Jisung’s circadian rhythm may have no reasonable cycle, but even he knew that 8:00 am was way too early for class to start! His business lectures didn’t even start until nine! You felt terrible when he pulled up with messy hair and barely-opened eyes, but you were too terrified to travel without him. Besides, he offered! He’s totally consenting to this.

“Hey, sleepyhead,” you teased. You held out one of your coffee thermoses to him and his eyes lit up like the sun. “Figured you needed some of this.”

“God, you have no idea.”

Jisung continued to drive you to and from places for weeks, whether it be to school, the hospital, or even to the grocery store or some general store. You thought he’d act more like a chauffeur than anything, but really he was acting more like your husband.

Grocery shopping often went like this:

“Kale? Really?” he gagged. “Can’t you buy some good food? You know, like meat and beer.”

“Do you live at my apartment and eat my food?”

“I will if it means you’ll eat good food. I should cook for you. I bet Dr. San can’t cook.”

Shopping at the general store went like this:

“Why are you buying such expensive towels? Just get the cheaper ones.”

“These are softer. Stop policing my shopping!”

“Quit throwing your money away!”

And then dropping you off at work went like this:

“Have a nice day at work, honey ~!” he screamed out the window. “Love you! Stay away from Dr. San!”

The rest of the week went about the same way and you were already tired of seeing Jisung’s annoyingly handsome face for that many days straight. On your only day off, just when you thought you were going to have a whole day of relaxing and staying home, a knock came at your door. At first, you’re terrified. Only a handful of people know where you live and nothing ever gets delivered right at your doorstep. You take one of your chef’s knives from the kitchen and approached the door cautiously.

“_____? It’s Jisung, open up.”

“Oh, for the love of -” When you opened the door, you pointed the knife lazily at him.

“Whoa, chill!”

“I didn’t call for your services.”

“‘Services’, what am I, a stripper? I know you didn’t. I’m here because your Dad wants to see you.”

“God, I hate it when he does this! He never gives me a heads up or anything! It’s my only day off, do I really have to go?”

“Yes. He said this is urgent. He also said to change into some work out clothes.”

“Why?”

“You’ll see.” You groaned in protest and dragged your feet back to your room to change. “Cute jammies, by the way.”

“Shut up.”

After changing into some clothes that you haven’t touched for months, Jisung drove you back to the Office in Hell. You had a feeling this had to do with the diner shooting earlier this week, which made national news. You for sure thought there was going to be some wanted pictures of you and Jisung fleeing the scene, but all the anchors mentioned was that all suspects ended up dying on the spot. Dad must have done something or paid some ungodly amount to the police so that you and Jisung were completely erased from the story, but you weren’t complaining. You didn’t want a bunch of reporters or police asking you questions.

The elevator ride down and the walk down the hallway doesn’t get any shorter the more you travel through it, but you would much rather have Mr. Hitman beside you instead of eight men in suits and sunglasses.

The second you walked through the door, you’re Dad ran to you and hugged you tightly.

“Oh, Sweetie, are you ok?” he cooed, checking the scars on your cheek where the glass hit you. “My poor daughter! Those fuckers are going to pay -”

“Dad, I’m fine.”

“Of course you are, all thanks to Jisung, right? Did I raise your pay yet like I said I would?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Excellent.”

“So what was so important that you called me here unannounced on my day off?”

“Right.” Inside your Dad’s fancy Dior suit jacket, he pulled out a pistol that matched Jisung’s and handed it over to you like it was a tv remote.

“Whoa, what the hell, Dad!?” you flinched, bumping your back into Jisung. “Why are you giving that to me?”

“You need it for self defense.”

“You think I know how to use that?”

“No, and that’s why Jisung is going to teach you. He’ll teach you how to shoot a gun, defend yourself if someone tries to kidnap you, the whole package.”

“Dad, you know I don’t want to be involved in this any more than I already am!” you whined, refusing to take the gun. “I’m digging a deeper hole for myself the more I’m around either of you. I can’t be doing this kind of stuff, I’m about to graduate!”

“I know. You know I fully support the life you chose as a doctor and I did my best to separate this lifestyle from you. But now you’re involved. People know your name, your face, where you work, and it’s my fault and there’s nothing I can do about it other than to give you what you need to protect yourself. I can’t let you walk around defenseless. Can you do this for me?”

You hated that he was right. If you were to walk away, he’d probably have Jisung and a bunch of his other men escort you everywhere you go and that’s the last thing you want. Reluctantly, you took the pistol from your Dad’s hands and he couldn’t look any prouder. You know the doljabi test that babies take when they turn one? The one with a pencil, some money, a sports-related thing, and various other objects that predicted the fate of your future? You’re almost positive your Dad snuck in a gun or a knife in there somewhere and your dumb ass took it so now fate was playing games with you and here you were with a heavy pistol in your hands.

“Jisung’s going to drive you to the shooting range and then to the gym for self defense. Sound good?”

“Do I even have a choice?”

“You know I love you, right? Do this for me if you love me, too.”

“... Ok. Love you, too, Dad.”

He held you tightly one last time before you left with Hitman slash bodyguard slash self-defense trainer Jisung. He was silent for a bit thinking that saying anything would ruin the sentimental moment you were cherishing, but by the way you eyed the new toy in your hands, he figured he had to distract you somehow.

“Some couples have matching clothes, but you and I have matching pistols,” he teased, lifting his shirt to reveal the same one on his holster.

“Tch, couple. As if.”

“What, you don’t think we’d make a cute couple? The waitress at the diner thought so.”

“A Hitman and his boss’s daughter. Sounds like a drama.”

“I’d watch sixteen hours of it.”

The shooting range was indoors, so the drive didn’t take you out of the city. The inside was all black with the targets that you could barely see at the opposite side of the room. For a place colored black and filled with guns, you thought it’d be scarier, but somehow it was familiar. Jisung led you to the one all the way down at the end.

“Ready to play?” he asked while hanging up the target for you.

“No. I’m terrified, actually.”

“You’ve never shot a gun before?”

“Does it look like I have?”

“Right… Show me how you think you should stand.”

You awkwardly did your best to have your back straight, feet facing towards the target, and aimed your gun straight ahead with your arms straight.

“That’s good if you were just shooting here and not moving, but you’ll be moving a lot. Turn your hips like this.”

Jisung had his hands on your hips before you know it and if this was anyone besides him, you might have blushed a deep red. But simply because this was him, you can’t get over how overused this drama-style flirting situation was. He guided your hips to face slightly to the side and kept your torso facing forward.

“You want your hips to face the side so you can quickly turn around and shoot someone from behind if you need to. Does that make sense?”

His fingertips creeped under your shirt on accident and touched your skin. You felt the goosebumps travel through your arms. “Y-Yup!”

“Ok then. Lift up your arms.” His hands made sure your elbows were bent and shoulders steady before returning to ghost the skin of your waist. “Ready, aim, shoot.”

You pulled the trigger and the bullet totally missed.

The breath of Jisung’s hyena laugh tickled your ear and you couldn’t help but laugh, too. You hit him in the chest with your free hand.

“Don’t laugh at me!”

“I can’t help it! You were totally off!”

“Ugh, ok let me try again.”

Again and again you readied, aimed, and fired and the closest you got to a good shot was the shoulder. Your playlist the entire time was a grown man’s giggle.

“You’re kind of cute when you’re shooting. Like the personification of ‘pew pew’.”

“If we were to leave this facility and get into a shoot out, I would not survive, so can you please shut up and help me!?”

“Ok ok! Maybe it’ll be easier if you square out your hips like this.” Mr. Professional Hitman applied more pressure to his grip on your hips and evened out the spacing of your feet and the angle of your hips.

“Does that feel better?” he whispered.

Whoa, your heart was beating fast. “U-Uh, I-I guess…”

“Ok. Try one more time and we can try again some other day.”

You would rather die than try again some other day, so you focused all of whatever energy you had left into this one final shot. You pulled the trigger and the bullet whizzed through the target’s chest slightly to its left.

Jisung whistled, impressed that you caught on. “Right through the heart, baby.”

“Fuck yeah, finally.”

“I guess that’ll do for now. Ready for self-defense training?”

“Now? Like, right now?”

“It’s now or never. C’mon, the gym’s close by.”

Actually, the gym was right across the street. Jisung told you to go to the room that was under your Dad’s name and that he’d meet you after he was done changing into his own gym clothes. The room in your name had the floors covered in gross gym mats and all of the walls were mirrors. It reminded you of a boxing gym, but without all of the equipment. It was kind of creepy.

The door opened to reveal Jisung in sweatpants and a sleeveless shirt - completely different than his normal black jeans and leather jacket get-up. This time you could clearly see his biceps and deltoids and you had to force yourself to look away before he caught you. It was too late. You were never going to hear the end if this.

“Like what you see, Princess?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Your high-pitched voice gave you away. “I understand the gun training, but do I really need self-defense training? Do you really think I could defend myself against some huge dude?”

“I highly doubt that you can, but that’s why I’m going to show you some basic tips and tricks. Ready?”

“No.”

“That’s the spirit. So tell me this, Princess. If I’m walking up to you with my hands grabbing your arms so you don’t hit back, what will you do?”

Jisung did just as he described and took hold of both of your wrists so tightly that it was hard to believe he was playing with you. “I’d kick you in your nuts,” you said, fake-kneeing him and making him flinch.

“Ah, careful! Good, that was the right answer. What if I have my hands on your neck and try to cut off your circulation?”

His hand found his way to your neck. Rather than thinking of the right answer, you were thinking of something slightly less appropriate. Only slightly… should this be feeling good?

“_____ ~” Jisung teased. “What’s your answer?”

Oh, right. “U-Uh, aim for your eyes.”

“Good girl.”

You couldn’t recall how long you and Jisung were practicing, but you’re sure you had bruises on weird places of your body right now because for questions that you couldn’t answer, Bad Ass Hitman made you the offender and he’d play a little too roughly with you so you knew what to do in that scenario. Somewhere near the end, you’re sweaty, tired, frustrated, and ready to go home.

“Jisung, I’m tired,” you whined.

“I know, but we have to keep going for a little longer. I have to go through everything on the list Mr. _____ gave me.”

“Can’t we do that another time? I need food, I need a shower, and I need sleep before work tomorrow.”

“We can’t fall short on this, _____. You and I got lucky that no one touched you at the diner. But what am I to do if I’m not with you and someone takes you away, hm? Your Dad will be devastated! And I’ll never forgive myself for not taking the time to help you defend yourself.”

“I can defend myself! I’m not totally helpless you know! I answered most of those questions right, didn’t I? I don’t need you to babysit me all the time just because my Dad told you to. You don’t have to act like you care, in fact you didn’t have to do anything involving me ever. Just lie to my Dad and say you did and hell, I’ll even be your alibi, but stop acting like you care about me when really you’re just looking for my Dad’s approval and that approval is gone the second you step away from me, right?”

The air was tense. Then Jisung walked up to you, swept his feet from under you so you’d fall on your ass, and towered over you. His legs were on both sides of your hips so you couldn’t move your legs and his hands were occupied with pinning your arms to the mat. Everything happened in less than a second and it took you a couple more to adjust your eyes and realize what happened. You focused on Jisung’s face. His lips are pursed, brows furrowed, and overall he looked hurt.

“If I’m the enemy trying to take you away from me and I have you in a hold like this, how are you going to escape?”

Take you away from him?

You didn’t answer. You couldn’t because what he thought about you all along was right - you were just the weak, defenseless, stuck up daughter of his boss. You felt like crying, but that would only further confirm his speculations, so you held it in.

But that’s not what he thought about you at all. You may be this little Princess he’s looking out for, but if anything were to happen to you, he wouldn’t know what to do. He’d probably go on some rampage, thinking irrationally and only doing what he could to get to you or find you or whatever these other mobsters wanted with you. He couldn’t let anything happen to you. He wouldn’t. He didn’t know what to do with this effect you had on him, but it was his fault for deciding to roll with it.

It’s been a minute since Jisung asked you the question. Since that time has passed, you noticed his face softened and you couldn’t tell what he was thinking. He was hurt - you said right to his face that you thought he didn’t genuinely care about it you at all. He couldn’t blame you, because you were right - this all started out because he was protecting you the way your Dad had ordered him to. But wasn’t it more than that by now?

You’re still pinned down and even when both of you realized it, neither of you moved from your positions. Instead, as if from the pull of the Earth’s core, Jisung leaned down almost too slowly. So slowly that you even bothered to strain your neck and meet his lips halfway.

His hands tightened their grip on your wrists like he was afraid you’d slip away. His lips were soft, and they were sweet like cherry-flavored candy. You tasted sweet, too, but more like honey. He could kiss you for hours. He should have done this earlier.

Your ringtone echoed through the room.

“Phone!” you yelped in a panic, crawling out from under Jisung. Your fingers were all twitchy and had a hard finding your phone in your bag. “H-Hi, Dr. San?”

Jisung involuntarily chewed on the inside of his cheek when he heard that name coming from your lips.

“Right now? Can you give me an hour? Ok, thank you, I’ll be there soon.” When you turned back to look at Jisung, he was already packing his gym bag. “I got called into work.”

“Ok,” he said briefly. He sounded annoyed.

Again, the car ride was silent and awkward. Jisung had been good about driving safely while you were with him, but today he went back to his old ways, like the very first time he drove you to the hospital. You looked at him and was going to ask what was up, but he looked angry. Did he regret what just happened in the gym…?

No, it wasn’t that. It was that stupid handsome Dr. San who ruined his one and only perfectly imperfect kiss with you and you jumped at the opportunity to answer the phone and get away. What a childish way reason for him to be bad.

“I… didn’t mean what I said earlier,” you began awkwardly. “I don’t think of you as a babysitter or someone who sucks up to my Dad like that… I’m sorry.”

Jisung sighed. “Then what am I to you?”

You couldn’t answer that.

Even though he was annoyed, Jisung still opened the door for you, but avoided eye contact once you arrived at the hospital. You said your quick goodbyes and he watched you walk in just like every other time just so he knew you were one hundred and ten percent safe inside.

Halfway to the door, you turned around.

“Would you want to go with me to a party next weekend?” you asked quickly like a high school girl asking out her crush.

Jisung did his lovable eyebrow raise. “Go with you? As what, your bodyguard?”

“No. As my date.”

“Whoa, as your date?” You couldn’t tell if he was smirking because he was scoffing and couldn’t believe you would ask him such a stupid question or because you sent his ego into space again. You hoped for the latter. “Why don’t you ask your precious Dr. San?”

“I kind of don’t want to go with him.”

“Why not?”

“Because I kind of want to go with you more.”

He bit his lip and you couldn’t help but think about kissing him again. “You’re lucky I like you.”

“So…?”

“I’ll go.”

He swore your smile lit up the night sky brighter than the moon. “Pick me up after work?”

“Anything for you, _____.”

You talked about kissing Jisung to Somi your entire shift.

The next time he kissed you was ten hours later after the overnight shift.

“Kiss me,” he demanded when he dropped you home. Your back was pressed against the door as he towered over you.

“Seriously?” you blushed.

“Do I look like I’m joking?”

“What’s the magic word ~?”

“Kiss me now?”

You were looking for please, but that was close enough, right? From then on, kissing was normal. Almost too normal, like you couldn’t keep your lips away from each other.

From the weekend you kissed him to the weekend of the party, you and Jisung hung out everyday all day. Sometimes it was training as your Dad’s Hitman and his precious Princess, but it was mostly as two people who liked each other. The other stuff was arbitrary. For once, you guys did normal things together, like cooking, shopping, playing games, and your favorite - kissing.

The hospital faculty party was going to be the first ‘date’ together publicly as a couple. Jisung always thought the firsts for anything were awkward, but not this - not with you. He was surprised to find out that everything with you happened naturally.

“Whoa…” was what Jisung said when he picked you up for the party. He knew the attire was formal, but never in his time of knowing you did he think he’s see you in something that made you shine like the stars. You were going to make everyone in the room turn their heads.

“Whoa yourself, even if you are in all black. Again.”

“I’m sexy though, right?”

“Very.”

The party wasn’t some adult house party or at a dinky banquet hall. No, this one was at the most expensive hotel in the city in the biggest ballroom. Decorated with jewel tones and gold accents, this party was the most extravagant party you and Jisung had ever attended. Everyone can thank your Dad for booking it. Anyone who was anyone was at this party and you wondered who was keeping it down at the hospital, but that wasn’t your problem tonight.

You spotted your group of friends over by the bar and where there was most traffic for the hors d'oeuvres. Typical. You took your hot date by the hand and walked over, finally getting the chance to introduce him to them, especially Somi.

“_____! Is this who I think it is!?” she gasped loudly.

“Guys, this is Jisung. Jisung, these are my co-workers.”

“Is that really all I am to you?” Somi and a couple of others fake-cried.

“Shut up.”

While Jisung was distracted with the food, Somi leaned in to whisper to you. “Hey, don’t look now, but Dr. San is staring.”

“Really?”

If Somi told you this months ago, you would have been all over that. But now you were just genuinely curious as to why. When you looked back, it was certainly true that he was staring, but he had his hot date right next to him, so why did it matter? Something was off.

“Jealous?” Jisung teased.

“Only that you have food. Sharing is caring.”

“No way, get your own!”

You disregarded Dr. San’s stares for the rest of the night. Your attention and affection were for Jisung and Jisung only. Whether it was his arm around your waist or your hands playing with his, there was always some sort of skinship shared between you two and you neither of you wanted to separate any time soon. So he took the initiative to pull you to the dance floor.

“Does my Dad’s Hitman know how to dance?”

“Of course! There’s a lot of things you don’t know about me, baby.”

“I’ll know all of them eventually.”

“Ok, bet.”

The songs changed from upbeat bops, to goofy bops, then finally ended with the slow and sexy songs allowing Jisung to hold you close like he always wanted to. He’s done so behind closed doors a few times already, but this was different. He got to show you off to the whole world. To your friends, to strangers, and especially to Dr. San.

“Safe to say that I won, right?” Jisung asked, referring to the night that Mingi got stabbed.

“By a landslide.”

“What do I get?”

“Another kiss ~?”

“You know me so well.”

Your man dipped his head down and kissed you with all of the passion he held in every cell of his body. Even during the kiss, you could feel yourself getting light headed and all the blood went to your cheeks.

“Whoa,” you said once he pulled away. “When did you learn how to do THAT?”

“Like I said, there’s a lot of things you don’t know ~”

“I think I need a drink after that.”

His cute laugh rang in your ears. “Ok, I’ll be at our table.”

You got a couple of sodas for you and your date so you could boost your blood sugar back up. While waiting, you overlooked the entire room full of people you worked. Even then, your eyes still found their way to Jisung. He was happily talking to Somi and the rest of the girls probably talking about how you two met. As if knowing you were looking, he returned your gaze and did his cute little wink so he could see you blush again. Well, it worked, because now you were smiling like an idiot and staring at your shoes.

“_____,” Dr. San said, tearing you away from your thoughts.

The handsome man was smiling down at you when you looked up. He was wasn’t with his date at the moment, so it was just you two.

“Dr. San, hi. How are you?” you asked.

“I’m doing well. Yourself?”

“I’m doing very well.”

“Really? I knew there was something different about you.”

“What do you mean?”

“You’re smiling a lot more. Your cheeks are practically glowing. It’s charming.” Cutely, he pinched your cheek.

You didn’t think anything of it, but oh man, did Jisung think otherwise. Now he was angry. It wasn’t your fault, and maybe he shouldn’t even be angry in the first place, but like HELL was he going to let some fucking tacky-ass doctor be friendly with you like that.

“Is someone else making you blush the way I used to?” Dr. San asked.

“I-I guess? You knew about that?”

“Of course. I thought you were cute, too. I could still make you feel that way.”

“Dr. San…?”

He took steps closer to you. “You should be with a real man.”

Just in time, Jisung stepped in between before this creep could touch you again.

“Back off,” Jisung sneered. Uh-oh, this wasn’t going to end well…

“I’m not doing anything,” Dr. San said calmly. “We’re just talking.”

“It doesn’t look that way to me.”

“You’re just a thug. What are you even doing here? She’s too good for you.”

Before Jisung could land a punch on him, you held him by the waist and laid your chin on his shoulder. That stopped him dead in his tracks and he hated how weak he fell when you held him like that.

“Don’t do it,” you whispered. “He’s not worth it. Let’s go home, ok?”

Your Hitman didn’t answer. Rather he took your hand and walked swiftly towards the exit.

“See you Monday, _____ ~” Dr. San sang tauntingly.

“What an asshole… Can’t believe I ever liked that guy.”

When you arrived outside, Jisung let go of your hand and wiped the sweat on his nice dress pants. He walked a few steps ahead of you to take some time to cool off before he talked because he knew if he didn’t, he’d say something wrong and maybe you’d run away. After running a hand through his hair, he turned back around to see you smiling and waiting patiently. It was so hard for him to believe he had you.

“Are you ok?” you asked.

“Yeah… Sorry, I don’t know what got into me. Just seeing him with you like that… It really got under my skin.”

“You must like me, huh?”

“Nah, that can’t be it…”

“Hey!”

“You know I’m kidding,” he said, his hands finding their way back to your waist. “I like you. A lot. Almost too much.”

“There’s no such thing as too much.”

Your annoying ringtone yet again ruined the moment between you and your man. Normally, you had your phone on silent, but you only let it ring when important people like your Dad, Jisung, and Dr. San were texting you. You checked and saw it was a message from Dr. San.

He sent you a picture of your Dad in a room with no windows tied up to a chair and beaten bloody with only “₩10B by 3AM” and an unknown address written.

“J-Ji-Jisung…” you stuttered. “W-What does this mean…?”

“What’s wrong?” His eyes narrowed at the image on your phone. Now he was furious. He knew there was something wrong with that guy from the get-go. “I’ll call for our crew in the car. Let’s go.”

You and Jisung sprinted to his car in the eerie underground parking lot. What if Dr. San was watching you right now? Watching you run away with a man that wasn’t him. Watching your every move so he knew you were following his demands.

Panic flowed through your entire body and you were finding it hard to breathe evenly. Your Dad was your entire world and now someone - Dr. San, of all people - had him. What were you to do without your rock? The only man who ever believed in you?

“What are we going to do?” you asked once you both were in the car. It sounded like you were crying, but no tears were present.

“We’re going to get your Dad, but it’s going to be messy.”

“But what about the money? I have it, won’t that be easiest?”

“First thing’s first about this line of business is to never trust anyone. Even if we have the money, who knows what they’ll do in that time? We’ll get the money, but we need to be quick and we need to be prepared to fight back, is that clear?” From inside his suit coat, he pulled out his pistol and gave it to you. “Are you ready to show me what you’ve learned?”

“What about you?”

“I have mine,” he said, revealing the one on his belt. “I brought yours just in case because I knew some shit was going to go down. This night sounded too perfect to be true.”

“I-I don’t even know the time…! What if it’s past three already!?”

“It’s 10:25. _____, look at me.” Through your panicked and shifty eyes, you tried to focus on Jisung’s calm and handsome face. It was helpful when he held your hand. “We’re going to find him, but I need you to stay calm, ok? I’ll be right next to you the whole time.”

“Don’t leave me.”

“I could never. Are you ready?” When you nodded, Jisung wasted no time and started the car. “Let’s fucking go.”

First thing’s first - go to your Dad’s office and find ₩10B lying around. That shouldn’t be too hard, right? You knew the password to the safe that was embedded in the wall and hidden behind one of the bookshelves. That was probably what Dr. San was looking for.

Dr. San… Who was he in all of this? Was he like your Dad, the leader of the pack? Or was he more like Jisung, the guy who did all of the dirty work? And why would an accomplished doctor like him need a side hustle like this? How did he even have the time!?

Entering the long hallway that led to Dad’s office was scarier at night with the possibilities of an ambush. Ahead of you, Jisung pulled out his pistol, indicating that you should do the same. With shaky and unsteady hands, you followed his lead. Despite the circumstance, dressed in your formal wear holding a gun next to your man made you feel kind of invincible - like you could do anything with Jisung by your side and look good doing it.

The office really looked like it came from hell when you entered. Everything was flipped upside down, all of Dad’s papers were everywhere, the books on his shelves were on the floor, and the cocaine corner was completely empty. Dr. San’s men did major work in such a short amount of time.

“The safe is behind the shelf,” Jisung instructed. “I’ll watch your back while you open it.”

“You know about that safe? And know that I know the code?”

“Mr. _____ trusted me almost too much.”

The safe combination was rotated between yours and your Dad’s social security number and you had to get it right in three tries or else you were locked out for twenty-four hours. This time it was yours. You’ve never opened it before or even knew what was in it, so when you opened it both you and Jisung could not believe how much money was stashed.

“So this is where my paycheck comes from.” Jisung handed you one of the many black duffle bags your Dad owned. “Start counting, babe.”

Even with ₩10B in the bag, there’s barely a dent in the safe. You both knew your Dad was filthy rich, but this safe was downright NASTY. When you save Dad from this whole mess, you’ll convince him to never do this drug stuff ever again. He could live luxuriously and then some with just half of what was in the safe.

The next step was to go to the unknown address. Jisung couldn’t imagine what you’re feeling right now. You must have been scared, furious, worried, or all of the above. With one hand on the wheel, he reached over to hold on to yours and there’s a wave of relieve that washed over you. It didn’t last long when the GPS lead you to an empty warehouse under a bridge with only your men’s cars filling up the property. The second they saw Jisung’s car, they all came out. Did Dad really have this many men in his army? You don’t even think you’ve seen some of these men before.

“Miss _____,” the leader of the pack greeted politely. “What’s the move?”

“I-I don’t know… Why are you asking me?”

“You’re next in charge, aren’t you?”

“Uh… Jisung, help?” you nudged.

“We’re going to go in there, give them the money, and demand Mr. _____ back. Be prepared if they disagree or things get heated. There are two number one priorities here - bring back Mr. _____ alive and keep _____ safe. Is that clear?” All the men nodded obediently. “Go!”

A couple of the men broke down the door. Instead of the building being an intricate maze of hallways and arbitrary rooms, it was just one big, empty gray space and your Dad was tied to a chair right in the middle of it, not moving.

“Dad!” you cried out, running past all of the loyal men.

“_____, get back here!”

Jisung couldn’t let you run alone in such an open room with potential shooters hiding God knows where, so he ran after you and kept an eye out for all hidden corners and crevices. The tears you kept hidden these last few hours all flowed freely the closer you ran to him. It felt like you were running a marathon on the longest treadmill. The closer you got, the more you could see the fresh blood oozing out of his body and when you reached him, you knew why he wasn’t moving.

He was already shot dead.

“Dad?” you whimpered, shaking him by his cold, limp shoulders. “Come on, wake up…! I’m here!”

“_____, it’s a trap,” Jisung warned. “We have to go -!”

“No, not without my Dad -!”

“_____, look at me.”

Jisung tore you away from trying to untie your dead Dad and held you by your face. Your crying and sobbing echoed so loudly throughout the room. It broke his heart to see you this way. He hoped to never see you like this ever again.

“We have to go. It’s not safe for you here. My priority is to keep you safe, remember?”

“But Dad -!”

“I know, baby, I know. You know what we’re going to do?” You shook your head. “You’re going to take over your Dad’s spot. You are going to rule this Kingdom and we’re going to get our revenge.”

“Revenge?” Revenge sounded good.

“Yup. You’re going to sit in your Dad’s office and run that shit like nothing happened, right? You’re going to keep this business running. And we’re going to find Dr. San and find all the other men responsible then we’re going to get our revenge. And I’m going to be right beside you the whole time, ok? Do you trust me?”

You could only nod. His plan sounded perfect.

“If you want to do this, we have to get out of here. Now.”

You let Jisung take the lead by helping you up. He dropped the bag of money next to your bleeding Dad, took you by the hand, and ran. There’s no shooting to be heard, no other footsteps, hell you couldn’t even hear any breathing. Was anyone even here? Why the fuck did they even bother if they already killed your father!?

“Grab the body and take it to get prepped for a memorial. Watch out for snipers,” Jisung warned.

The rest of the men stayed back when you and Jisung left to get you safe inside the car.

“Why did you leave the money? Dad was already shot,” you asked.

“Dr. San or whomever he works for only wanted the money. They didn’t care about negotiating. They have that place bugged. If we didn’t leave it, something bad was going to happen to you. I’ll throw away ₩10B any day as long as you’re left untouched.”

“Dr. San… no wonder he tried to get closer to me. Not too obvious, but not too subtle, either. He knew a lot about my relationship with Dad, too.”

“Like what?”

“I told him I chose med school because I didn’t want to take over Dad’s business. He knew if they killed my Dad, the company’s Drug Pushing days would be over. God, I’m such an idiot!”

“Hey, that’s not your fault. You had no idea some tacky doctor could be involved in this life.”

“Yeah, and now I’m going to be. I’ll be doing exactly what I never wanted in the first place. But this is for Dad. I have to do this, right?”

“You don’t have to do anything.”

“You’re right. Now I want to.”

“_____-”

“It’s ok. This is for Dad - I can do this. I-I think… You said you’d be there with me, right?”

“You can’t get rid of me that easily, Princess.”

“Good... Where are we going now?”

“To your home. You need rest, you had a long day. Then tomorrow, we’ll clean up your new office, and I’ll show you the ups and downs of this God-forsaken business.”

“I’m both terrified and excited.”

“Maybe you were meant for this job all along.”

“Dad used to say shit like that, too. Maybe you’re both right...”

Your heart was incredibly heavy when you arrived home. You needed your bed to hold all of the weight of your sorrow. Seeing your Dad dead and tied up like a pot roast was one kind heartbreak, but realizing he was gone forever was another. You couldn’t be alone tonight.

“Don’t leave me,” you begged Jisung.

“Do you want me to stay tonight?”

“And tomorrow... Maybe for the whole week... And then some...”

His light chuckle rang in your ear and he pressed a kiss to your forehead. “Anything for you.”

EPILOGUE

Life is simple. Life is spent calmly after your Dad’s memorial and taking over the Soju business and cocaine side hustle. It took you a while to adjust from med student life to business student life, but you’re thankful for Jisung who helped you with the transition and studying every step of the way. It wasn’t as bad as you thought - then again, business students don’t have overnight shifts.

Being the CEO meant you knew the recipe of the Soju and who to pay in whatever amount. You were more like the overseer. As time passes, you’ll learn the rest of the ins and outs on the go, so you’re not as worried.

Besides, you have your hands full with cocaine, among other things.

“_____?” Jisung opens the door to your office with a triumphant smirk on his lips. “Dr. San’s ready to see you.”

“Thanks, love,” you said. You take your shiny pistol out from your holster. “Can’t wait to see him.”

[jimkirksgirl]

Rayborne-9

My sweet little sister wrote this for me and since she doesn’t have a Tumblr, I encouraged her to post this somewhere. She asked me if I would post this to my Tumblr so here it is! 

{WARNING, LANGUAGE}

“Captain on Bridge!”

As far as bad days go for James T. Kirk, this one was pretty damn awful. However, it didn’t start out that way. It hadn’t been ten minutes ago that the illustrious starship captain had been sitting in the Mess Hall, enjoying a nice, hot cup of coffee, his feet propped up on the seat beside him and Stephen King’s “Pet Sematary” left open in his lap.

James was right in the thick of the novel, his eyes darting from left to right as he scanned each page intently. The recommendation to read this book came from none other than his favorite doctor and closest friend, Bones. At first, Kirk was reluctant to read it, but Leonard was able to persuade him by explaining how the book was “thrilling” and “right up your fucked up little alleyway, Jim.” Though it took him a good three or four weeks to finally get around to picking up the thing, as soon as he had, Kirk quickly fell into the horrifyingly morose King tale. He had been right at the part where the toddler, Gage Creed, was about to get creamed by a semi that the ship went on red alert.

“RED ALERT. READ ALERT. REPORT TO STATIONS IMMEDIATELY. APPROACHING KLINGON VESSEL. RED ALERT.”

Jim had closed his eyes, taken a deep breath, and shut his book.

Here we go again.

In minutes, he was on the lift, the small pod carrying him up, up, and away. The imagery of an oncoming delivery truck hurtling into the endless vacuum of space, taking with it his hot coffee and peace of mind, could be used to accurately describe how he felt as the doors slid open on the bridge.

Just another day on the Starship Enterprise.

“Alright, what do we got here,” he mumbled, hopping into the captain’s chair.

“Sir, there is an approaching Klingon war vwessel,” Chekov called, his fingers working feverishly at the control panel.

“Tell me something I don’t know,” Kirk replied, leaning forward in his seat and looking up. A Klingon Bird of Prey was sitting dead center of the screen, its wings nearly spanning beyond view of the bridge as it stared them down like the intimidating predator it was.

“They’re scanning the ship, sir,” Sulu added, turning in his chain to face him.

“Awesome. Any attempt at communication,” he asked, not taking his eyes off the beast.

“No, Captain, there have been no incoming transmissions from the Klingons,” Uhura answered, quick as always.

James leaned back in his chain, resting his hands on the arm rests.

Great. Another Klingon ship. Third one this week, by his count. They were probably there to make a worthy attempt at kicking their shit in, like the other two had, and would probably end up as space dust, like the other two had. He sighed tiredly and closed his eyes again, pinching the bridge of his nose as a migraine began to settle in.

Finally, he said: “Uhura, make contact with those wrinkly motherfuckers and see what they want, will ya?”

Uhura confirmed the order, then went about making contact with the ship. James kept his eyes squeezed tight as the bridge moved around him, a somewhat subdued sense of panic and intrigue making the room feel more like flight school than a battle to the death. Really, a third ship? If they really wanted them dead, why not send the whole damned fleet instead? Had they not learned their lesson the first two times when they had reduced their warships to chunks of sparking space trash? Dumbasses.

Uhura turned in her chair. “Sir, I’ve made contact,” she said, almost sounding a little bored.

“Put it on screen,” Kirk sighed, reluctantly opening his eyes. After a minute or two, the snarling mug of a Klingon captain appeared on screen.

“Captain Kirk,” he sneered, his grotesque fangs hanging over his bottom lip, “a pleasure.”

“Yeah, yeah, cut the pleasantries. What do you want,” Kirk asked, his tone that of a tired old man.

The Klingon snarled, “How dare you? I’ve come to crush you and your pitiful crew like the insolent little-”

“Dude, shut up,” James interrupted, rubbing his temple, “I know you’re scanning my ship! All three of you bastards have scanned my ship! What the hell are you looking for?”

Kirk was really growing impatient now. His ears were turning bright red, a little vein popping in his neck. It was this kinda shit, the fucking around and evil monologuing that really set Jim off. ‘Either shut up and fire your goddamn death-ray or tell me what the hell you’re after,’ is what he wanted to scream on days like this.

The Klingon smirked disgustingly. “Why should I tell you when I can just take it for myself?”

Kirk sighed for what felt like the 100th time that day. “Because, you can’t. And you know you can’t. We’ve taken out two of your buddies already, what makes you think you can beat us? Honestly, this is getting old…”

It was at that moment precisely the lift door slid open and onto the bridge stepped Mr. Spock.

“Captain, I know what they’re searching for,” he said, crossing the bridge in a few long strides.

Kirk smiled tiredly, looking more in Spock’s general direction than directly at him. “Oh, yeah? Lay it on me.”

Spock extended his outstretched hand, a round stone sitting in his palm. It was small, maybe an inch or so wide, with a color not unlike murky swamp water. Jim tilted his head and looked up at Spock, giving him a puzzled expression.

The small rock he was holding was… Well, it was trash. One of the red shirts had picked it out of the dirt on an abandoned planet they were scouting about a week ago, wanting to take it back to the ship for analysis. Kirk and long since forgotten about the thing, having only glanced at it when the young man asked if he could keep it. What was so significant about a rock? It looked like any other chunk of dirt Kirk had seen.    

Jim looked back at the screen. “Is this what you’re after,” he asked, his inflection mirroring his confusion.

“That is Klingon property, thieves! We demand that you return it at once,” the alien spat.

Kirk turned back to Spock, his brow furrowed. “Well, what’s so important about the rock?”

Spock closed his hand, “I believe it is an old Klingon relic, captain. It used to be the centerpiece of a crown worn by only rulers of the highest nobility. During one of Klingon’s many wars, however, the crown was lost, presumidly stolen or destroyed. It took me quite some time to recognize it, as it has sustained considerable damage since it was last described. The stone itself is cut from a very rare mineral only found on Klingon, valued at roughly 1,000,000,000 Talon.”

Kirk processed this information for a moment, his eyes on Spock’s closed hand.

“Alright, sir, if you want the rock so bad, you can have it. It has no value to me or my crew and, honestly, it’s not worth anyone dying over, human or otherwise. So, if you’ll kindly send a shuttle pod our way, we’d be more than happy to meet you halfway.” he said, sitting back in his chair and crossing his legs. Honestly, all this goddamn fighting over a fucking rock. Where do these wrinkly motherfuckers get off?

The Klingon made a nasty expression that Kirk guessed was supposed to be a smile, then said, “Captain, your compliance is greatly appreciated.” Then, the screen flickered back to space, the imposing warship front and center. Kirk rose stiffly from his chair.

“Captain, may I ask what it is you are planning,” Spock asked, following Jim to the lift.

“Planning?’ I’m not planning anything. What about what I just said made it sound like I was planning anything?” Kirk stepped onto the lift and pressed the button that would take them down to the loading bay.

Spock entered in after him, raising an eyebrow as the door slid closed.

“Pardon me if I am being too presumptuous in my familiarity with your behaviour, but it is quite unlike you to simply comply with a Klingon’s demand. You must have some underlying plan that involves you boarding a Klingon shuttle and gaining access to their ship?”

Kirk rubbed his eyes, “No, Mr. Spock, there is no ‘underlying plan.’ I’m giving them the stupid rock.”

Spock stepped forward and pressed the emergency stop button.

“But captain,” Spock pressed, “there may be serious repercussions for simply handing it over. The history of the stone is quite obscure, it may have an alternate purpose aside from being jewelry. The Klingons could know something we don’t, captain, and that should not be a risk you are willing to take.”

James sighed, his eyes facing forward. “Mr. Spock, with all due respect, you sound paranoid. It’ a fucking stone. We didn’t pick up any odd readings from it, it’s not glowing

or pulsating; it’s just a rock.”

Had Kirk been in a more amicable mood, he may have entertained Spock’s idea a little. After all, it wasn’t an impossible theory, all things considered, and Spock was definitely one of the smartest people he knew. But today, Jim was simply not in the mood to pick a fight with those wrinkly motherfuckers OR discuss it with Spock.

“Captain, you’ll have to forgive me again for my assumptions, but you seem to be acting out of character. If I may be so bold, are you still upset with me about our time spent on Rayborne-9?”

Of course he had to bring up Rayborne-9.

Kirk wheeled on his first officer, “Spock, I already told you, what happened on Rayborne-9 is in the past! It was a mistake, ok? I was drunk, you just got dumped, and I didn’t have a fucking clew what was going on. I thought we agreed to leave what happened on that shitty, little, party planet there with the techno dance music and three headed strippers.”

Kirk had gotten right up in Spock’s face as he spoke, his cheeks flushed red with anger and embarrassment and his voice loud and authoritative. Spock was calm, maintaining eye contact and keeping his lips pressed tight together. Once Kirk was finished, he spoke in a soft yet controlled tone:

“Jim, I am aware of the terms we agreed upon when leaving Rayborne-9. That’s why I’m bringing it up. You’ve been getting progressively more irritated and distressed everyday since that night. Perhaps it is you who cannot let go of the past?”

Jim was speechless. He searched in Spock’s cold eyes, searching for the correct answer to that question, but he couldn’t see it. Was he the one not letting go of that night? Sure, he had been super drunk when it happened, but Kirk knew all too well that a couple of drinks does not make you… Well, it doesn't change who you are. Kirk closed his mouth, his face softening as his eyes fell from Spock’s to his chest.

After a few moments of silence, James finally spoke again, his voice whisper soft and weak.

“Spock, I don’t know what to think about you. What happened on Rayborne-9… I didn’t know-I didn’t think… Shit, Spock, I didn’t mean to-”

His words were cut off by Spock leaning forward and gently pressing his lips to his.

Just like he had done on Rayborne-9.

Kirk wasn’t able to pull away. He wasn’t able to think, either. Everything, all the anger and frustration with the Klingons and his own internal feelings, melted away at Spock’s touch. He let his eyes flutter shut as he leaned into the kiss, his heart racing in his chest.

After what could’ve been hours to Kirk, Spock broke contact.

“James, for once, I understand how you feel. This, romantic attraction to another man, is quite unfamiliar to me. There is nothing logical about one man loving another, as they cannot reproduce biologically, but perhaps such an attraction serves a different purpose. What I’m saying, Jim, is that I don’t think we should fight this. Because just as it is illogical to be with you, it is illogical to not be with you, especially since it causes you such internal discourse.”

Kirk blinked, his lips hanging slack. “Spock, what are you saying? You wanna be my boyfriend? Are you serious?”

Spock nodded, his face calm yet soft. “Yes, James, if that’s what you’d like to call it. I don’t see any use in a title, but if you prefer it.”

Jim didn’t know what to say. Was this really happening? Was Spock, the calculating and cynical alien who almost never let himself emote, really asking to be his partner? Kirk suddenly felt dizzy, the lift spinning around him as he stood so close to Spock he could feel his breath hit his cheek. He could only stare dumbly into Spock’s gaze, that cold calmness from before gone. In its place was warmth and care, something almost loving.

“I gotta get down to the shuttle bay,” Kirk whispered, unable to look away.

“I know, captain,” he reached over and disengaged the emergency stop, “we’ll be there shortly.”

“Spock?”

“Yes?”

It was James who kissed Spock this time. “I don’t know how to do this, like, at all. I’m a terrible boyfriend.”

Spock grunted, almost chuckling, “I know, captain. If it is at all comforting, I, too, am quite deficient in that area.” The door to the lift slid open and Jim stepped back, patting Spock’s shoulder.

“Well, then I guess we’ll just have to figure it out together,” he said, stepping backwards off the lift. Kirk flashed Spock his trademark smirk as he turned and disappeared into the swarm of ship hands.

Spock stared after him, the most slight of grins tugging at the corners of his still burning lips.

END

[spellnbone]

CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT 004: MYER BRIGGS

YOUR PERSONALITY TYPE IS: MEDIATOR (INFP-A)

Mind: 74% Introverted / 26% Extroverted Energy: 15% Observant / 85% Intuitive Nature 86% Feeling / 14% Thinking Tactics: 35% Judging / 65% Prospecting Identity: 728% Assertive / 28% Turbulent

Mediator personalities are true idealists, always looking for the hint of good in even the worst of people and events, searching for ways to make things better. While they may be perceived as calm, reserved, or even shy, Mediators have an inner flame and passion that can truly shine. Comprising just 4% of the population, the risk of feeling misunderstood is unfortunately high for the Mediator personality type – but when they find like-minded people to spend their time with, the harmony they feel will be a fountain of joy and inspiration.

The INFP personality does reflect Edgar quite well. He does tend to come of as a calm sea, while those who know him know that there’s wonders lurking in the depth of his mind. It is however surprising to see that his Thinking is less impactful than his Feeling, as you’d expect him, he who reads and ponders so much, to be less of an heart-person and more of a head-person. Yet, I do think it fits. His Thinking is driven by Feeling, by the wish to understand and explore more than to just analyse and take the facts as they are. He cares about how they impact the world, the universe, the people around him, and how he feels about it all is an important factor that makes him read so much.

Mediators have a talent for self-expression, revealing their beauty and their secrets through metaphors.

This is certainly accurate for Edgar. While this self-expression is never meant to be expressed for the sake of others, but simply because his words are an outlet for the thoughts he gathers and connects, he does love to talk about it. Not constantly, not randomly, but with those he trusts and those he wishes to join the conversation.

Listen to Many People, but Talk to Few

This also applies beautifully to Edgar. While he definitely doesn’t struggle to hold a conversation, he enjoys listening more than to preach (even if he were someone who thought his own words deep or important enough for preaches, which he certainly isn’t). Perhaps this won’t show as well in this RP, as most of the people around him, the members of the Order, are deeply trusted people, so of course he is able -- and willing! -- to share his thoughts with them. An interaction with a stranger would certainly look different than with someone by whose side he has fought for death and life. Perhaps it’ll show itself in the recently-joined members, compared to those who have been in the Order with him for a long time.

If they are not careful, Mediators can lose themselves in their quest for good and neglect the day-to-day upkeep that life demands. Mediators often drift into deep thought, enjoying contemplating the hypothetical and the philosophical more than any other personality type.

The latter goes without question, the former, I believe has shown itself in recent years. Certainly, Edgar has always been withdrawn, enjoying the comfort of the Ravenclaw tower all throughout his stay at Hogwarts, but ever since then, ever since engaging with the Order’s cause, he might’ve forgotten himself even more. He used to write a lot, unrhyming poetry and jotted down epigrams, mostly, but this, along with other, adolescent hobbies, have drifted away from him eventually. All of his relationships (most of them long-term and considered serious) died because he would withdraw and not put enough effort into the love. He cared, of course, but sometimes he’d forget, staying out for hours, nights, sometimes even entire days, without letting his partner know where he was going. He means no harm in that, he just ... forgets, too absorbed by his own pondering and quest for good.

Mediators share a sincere belief in the idea of relationships – that two people can come together and make each other better and happier than they were alone, and they will take great efforts to show support and affection in order to make this ideal a reality. [...] But Mediators aren’t necessarily in a rush to commit – they are, after all, Prospecting (P) types, and are almost always looking to either establish a new relationship or improve an existing one – they need to be sure they’ve found someone compatible.

The test says that Mediators don’t enjoy committing to relationships, mostly because they prefer the prospect of things over actually doing it. This is the point I initially disagree with, as Edgar for me always had a very loyal personality, someone who longs for someone to be at his side, someone he can come home to. But now that I think about it, I think he’s always, somewhat, one foot out the door. As though he doesn’t really believe that no matter how beautiful and important the thing is he has with that other person, it will never last. Partially because of the war (the secrets he fosters because of the Order and he knows secrets are poison to a relationship, but also because he’s been with Muggles, and the worlds are just too different, it’s too dangerous to let them come together like this), and partially because, in a way, he knows that in the end there’s no one he wants to be as close to as with Amelia. If he were to picture his future -- which he avoids, usually -- then it’s always her, old and wrinkly, by his side, and no one else. 

The challenge is the many dualities that this type harbors when it comes to being sociable – Mediators crave the depth of mutual human understanding, but tire easily in social situations; they are excellent at reading into others’ feelings and motivations, but are often unwilling to provide others the same insight into themselves

I think, as long as Edgar is allowed to sit in a corner and observe at a party, he won’t feel particularly drained. It’s when he has to force himself into expression to make himself feel understood and therefore has to see himself through the eyes of others, that he wears out. I imagine that during the Inner-Circle meetings at the Order, he’s not the one to just take the word and go on about ideas, even if he has some, but listens first and then take someone aside in the five-minute-break to share his opinion. Furthermore, I wonder if his symptoms of OCD make it hard to fully relax when many people are around. In a dangerous situation this comes in incredibly handy as he notices patterns and uncommon happenstances, but when it’s a party where he’s expected to enjoy himself, it’s in the way. That’s why he smokes, to keep his hands from twitching and reaching out to fix little details, keep that calm sea facade of his. And what a luck that this is the 80s and smoking inside wasn’t a tabu yet.

Even as friendships grow stronger and deeper, and friends are lulled into a sense of mutual understanding, Mediators’ enigmatic qualities will never truly vanish.

Very important. Edgar isn’t ‘philosophical’ on purpose. To impress or appear a certain way. he couldn’t care less what his impact is on other people’s minds. There’s not a self-image with reputation he fosters, even when it seemed so in the past when he tried to please his parents by being the Good Child. He did so to keep Amelia out of trouble, and to make his parents happy, never to develop a certain opinion of others on him. This just happened as a by-product. So even when he does get to know someone, and loves sharing his thoughts with them, he won’t change. Because that’s just him, from beginning to end, always.

In the workplace: As subordinates, Mediators prefer latitude, and would much rather immerse themselves in a project, alone or with a close team, than simply be told what task to do and move on. People with the Mediator personality type aren’t looking for easy, forgettable work that pays the bills, they’re looking for meaningful work that they actually want to think about. [...] As managers, Mediators are among the least likely to seem like managers – their egalitarian attitudes lend respect to every subordinate, preferring communication as human beings than as a boss/employee opposition. People with the Mediator personality type are flexible, open-minded and give their subordinates the tools they need, be they responsible delegation or an intuitive and receptive sounding board, to get the job done. Keeping their eyes on the horizon, Mediators set goals that achieve a desirable end, and help the people working under them to make that happen.

Edgar is in the Inner-Circle of the Order, but not because he’s a Leader personality, but because he’s been around for so long that he just knows the ins and outs, because he knows the rules, because he’s undeniably trust-worthy and helpful when given the opportunity. Hence why I added the bit about a Mediator as a manager, because while, in a way, the Inner-Circle does seem to play a leading role in the order, it’s important to understand that Edgar doesn’t see himself as more important than any other member. On the contrary, he embraces every idea, no matter if it’s from someone who joined the cause centuries years ago or last month. Perhaps this is why he finds the negative opinions on the Dorcas and Co. so surprising; he firmly believes that new ideas should always be welcomed, especially if old ideas haven’t really gotten them far in the past, and therefore wonder why people are so resistant to more radical means. On the other hand, the ‘doesn’t just look for work that pays the bills’ amuses me, as Edgar does work at the Daily Prophet mostly for that. Money. He has to get around somehow. Then again, you could say he chose his column for the arts, so here again, he does love thinking about what he’s doing, putting his thoughts into his words.

All in all, I think Edgar fits the Mediator type. It is funny, however, how the Mediator sounds like quite the Hufflepuff type of personality. Naturally, we all know that Edgar’s second house would’ve been Hufflepuff, but considering how the Mediator’s weakness is ‘dislike having to deal with data’, I do wonder what the test got wrong about him (or me, as I took the test). Perhaps it is the fact that he doesn’t collect the data for the sake of data, but to translate it into the bigger picture, which is a Mediator thing to do, or perhaps it is because over the years, he’s grown more distant from just studying the world for the sake of studying it.

I’d like to retake the test in a few months, when I know Edgar a little better. Or when Edgar might’ve changed some more. After all, the events of the world don’t leave him cold, even if he’s not showing his fears and worries on the outside all the time.

[theressomethingwrongwithsam]

If Love Were Enough

If love were enough I'd still be here with you. I would hold you and kiss you and tell you that you're beautiful. I'd wake you up in the morning with a cup of coffee and a slice of toast. I'd buy you presents on your birthday and at Christmas and sometimes just for no reason at all.

If love were enough we'd grow old together. We'd get smelly and wrinkly and have bad hips but we'd be together so it'd be alright. We'd watch TV and maybe even have grandchildren to fuss over and look after when we feel energetic enough.

If love were enough then I wouldn't be laying here, frail and weak in this hospital bed. We'd be out walking and laughing like we always did. We'd be planning holidays and trips to our families instead of planning funerals and sorting out our finances.

If love were enough this entire room would turn around and become a church and we'd finally be married to each other. Our families and friends would see us happy on the most important day of our lives. I'd walk you back down that aisle so pleased and proud to be your man. We'd go somewhere amazing for the honeymoon and it'd be the best thing ever.

If love were enough I'd beat this. I'd be well again and back home. But love, it seems, is not strong enough to beat this cancer. I'm going to die soon and leave you on your own. God, I wish I didn't have to. I wish I could be with you for eternity. I wish we had more time. I wish it so much.

So, my dearest, remember me. Move on but keep me close because our love was pure. Remember the times that we had. Remember how good life can be. Remember how strong we stood against the cruel world and that you can stand strong too, even without me. And always remember that I would be with you if only love were enough.

By Sam Elliot