#its kind of in order like at the club/or a party=> you feel something/ someone following u=> things are intense

[sweets-library]

care and consequence

Shouta Aizawa/reader. hurt/comfort. wc: 7.9k.

READ THE CONTENT WARNINGS. DO NOT READ THIS IF THEY DO NOT APPEAL TO YOU. 18+ content warnings: spanking, improper use of a hairbrush, punishment, heavy use of daddy as a title, heavy themes of discipline and D/S dynamics

a/n: holy shit guys, the reception on that last one was actually insane, thank you all so much! i hope you guys like this one too, I'm sorry it took so long! i have a lot of personal life drama going on rn, plus I'm sick again :/ anyways, enjoy and strap in, its a long one! ao3

-

You had regretted coming to the bar about an hour ago, though you’d never admit it. The music thrummed in your chest, matching the relentless pounding in your head. Around you, people were dancing, drinking, and laughing, lost in their own worlds. As much as you wanted to join in, your body felt like it was rebelling against you. Still, you clung to the idea that one more drink might just do the trick.

Navigating through the chaotic sea of heroes, you pushed your way to the bar and ordered a vodka cranberry with a shot on the side. Your last drink had taken a while to finish, but this one? This one needed to count. The bartender turned away, and just as you started to feel the room sway, the door flew open with a booming, "WHAT IS UP, PARTY PEOPLEEEEE!"

Ah, Mic made it!. He had been unsure if he could, with the radio show’s schedule, but he must’ve handed the reins to someone else to show up fashionably late. You watched as he carved a path through the crowd, greeting everyone with that infectious energy, before you turned your attention back to your drinks. Downing the shot in one swift motion, you grabbed your cocktail, setting your sights on Nemuri.

You found her in conversation with Kamui Woods and Mount Lady, her laughter carrying over the din. Sliding up beside her, you felt the brush of her nails as she pinched your side with a knowing grin. Without missing a beat, she continued chatting, but you knew she had clocked you. You were happy to wait, sipping your drink and letting its warmth spread through you, barely tuning into the conversation until Nemuri said her goodbyes.

She grabbed your hand, giggling as she pulled you onto the dance floor, and you let her lead—hoping the music might drown out how unwell you felt.

As the tequila and vodka settled into your veins, the world around you softened into a hazy blur of neon lights and pulsing bass. The club was packed, bodies moving in sync with the heavy beat that rattled the floor beneath your feet. Strobe lights flickered overhead, casting quick flashes of colour across the writhing crowd, while smoke machines filled the air with a thin mist that clung to your skin. The music was loud, so loud that it vibrated through your chest, matching the heat rising in your cheeks.

You finally started to feel it, the carefree buzz you’d been chasing all night. The alcohol loosened your limbs, and you let yourself get lost in whatever dirty, hypnotic rhythm Nemuri was dragging you into. Around you, people shouted over the music, laughed too loudly, and clinked glasses at the bar. The air was thick with the smell of sweat, spilled drinks, and the faint hint of perfume mingling with something more electric. It was the kind of energy that pulled you in deeper, making everything else fade away.

A few songs passed in a blur of flashing lights and sweaty bodies. You floated from partner to partner, dancing with Thirteen, Snipe, and Nemuri again, before you found yourself twirled straight into the arms of Present Mic.

“Zashi! Hi!” you practically shouted, grinning at him with the same excitement that buzzed through the room. It felt like he was the only one who hadn’t made it to the party yet, and now, everything was perfect. You could imagine him being stopped by every person on the way in, catching up and spreading his contagious energy.

“Heya, baby, how’s it hangin’?” he grinned, pulling you in so close you could feel the bass rumbling through his chest. But even here, his voice cut through the noise effortlessly.

“Soooo good! I love dancing, I’m so happy you came! Thought you’d get stuck at the station,” you gushed, letting the sway of the music carry you from foot to foot.

He laughed and gave you a playful dip, sending you squealing in delight as the room spun for a brief moment. But when he pulled you back up, his smile faltered as you coughed into your arm, the noise cutting through the music like a reminder that not everything was as smooth as the party felt.

“Gave one of the interns the mic for the night. She was over the moon to take it,” Hizashi said with a chuckle, leaning in closer to cut through the pounding music. His usual energy seemed slightly tempered, though his voice still carried effortlessly. He lowered his tone as he added, “Didn’t think you’d make it out tonight. Shouta told me earlier you weren’t feeling so hot.”

At the mention of your boyfriend, you scanned the room out of habit, already knowing he wasn’t there. This kind of scene was never his thing; too loud, too crowded. Besides, he had patrol tonight.

“Sho’s just paranoid. I’m fine, see?” you replied, brushing off the comment with a lighthearted twirl under Hizashi’s arm. The movement made your head spin a bit, but you ignored it, flashing him a grin as you let go of his hand, intent on heading back to the bar for another drink. Before you could get far, his arm looped around your waist, pulling you back gently but firmly. 

“Hey, you trying to leave me all alone out here? This party’s not even close to over,” Hizashi laughed, his voice rising just above the thrum of the bass. You joined in his laughter, not noticing how, with each song, he subtly steered you away from the bar. The colours around you swirled in a kaleidoscope of neon lights, flickering across faces and catching in the smoke-filled air. Every beat seemed to vibrate through your body, keeping you in a daze of music, movement, and heat.

As the hours blurred, so did the people. Dance partners came and went, their faces brief ly illuminated by strobe lights before they disappeared back into the crowd. But through it all, Hizashi never left your side, keeping a playful hand on your shoulder or at your waist as if he were your lifeline in the chaotic sea of bodies.

Then, a slower song melted into the speakers, and the mood shifted. The lights dimmed to soft blues and purples, and the frenetic energy on the dance floor calmed. Hizashi took the opportunity to pull you close, his arm wrapping around you with a gentleness that felt comforting against the heat of the room. Your head fell naturally onto his shoulder as the world seemed to slow down for the first time that night. The sway of the music was soothing now, and the chatter around you dropped to a murmur.

Couples paired off, holding each other close, moving in time to the slow beat, while others used the moment to catch their breath. The heavy scent of spilled drinks, sweat, and perfume lingered in the air, but here, in Hizashi’s arms, you felt an odd sense of calm. You giggled softly as he whispered in your ear, making quiet jokes about the unlikely pairings that had formed on the dance floor. His voice was steady and warm, grounding you.

But then, he stopped abruptly. The sway of his body stilled, and you blinked, the moment interrupted. Confused, you lifted your head to look at him, but his attention was no longer on the dance floor.

“Sorry, sweetheart, I think your song’s been played out,” Hizashi said softly, his voice taking on a tone that felt more final than playful. You lifted your head to question him, confusion crossing your face, but before you could get a word out, he spun you around; right into the arms of someone new.

Or rather, someone far more familiar than you would have preferred.

“Shouta!” you gasped, looking up to find him staring down at you, his dark eyes narrowed in that way that instantly made you feel small. His gaze wasn’t angry, exactly, but there was a sharpness in it that cut through the fog of your drunken haze. You straightened up, biting your lip as emotions flashed across your face, impossible to hide in your current state.

“I thought you had patrol?” you asked, voice tinged with uncertainty.

“I finished early,” he said, his tone even but firm as he wrapped an arm around your waist. His grip was gentle, but the intention was clear as he began guiding you through the crowd and toward the door. “Let’s go.”

“Wait, wait, I gotta-” you started to protest, trying to twist out of his hold. But Shouta cut you off before you could finish, his voice leaving no room for argument.

“I paid your tab. You can see everyone another time,” Shouta said curtly, his voice as firm as his grip around your waist. The finality in his words made your chest tighten, but you huffed anyway, stubbornly digging in your heels.

“I promised Nemuri another dance, and I was gonna get another drink!” you protested, though the moment the words were out, you knew they were a mistake. Shouta’s gaze sharpened, his eyes darkening as they bore into you. It was a look that made your heart skip a beat and sent a nervous tremor down your spine. Your feet shuffled on instinct, your earlier defiance wilting under the heat of his stare.

“We are leaving right now, little girl,” he said, his tone low and deliberate. The words slid over you like a command, impossible to ignore. His hand drifted down to your ass, the touch firm and possessive, sending a shiver through your body. He leaned in closer, his breath hot against your ear as he continued, “Unless you’d like to get a head start on your punishment in the bathroom. Here. And. Now.”

Your pulse quickened at his words, your breath catching in your throat. The heavy atmosphere of the club seemed to fade, the sound of the crowd growing distant. All that remained was the heat of his presence and the weight of his words. The tension coiled in your stomach, leaving you unsure whether to push back or submit.

“No… m’sorry. Let’s go,” you mumbled, your voice barely rising above the pulsing music, but your regretful look and the way you let him pull you along seemed to say enough. Once outside, the sudden quiet enveloped you, your ears ringing from the absence of sound. The contrast was jarring, but it was nothing compared to the weight of Shouta’s disappointment radiating off him like an invisible force.

He guided you to the car, and without even a hint of protest, you slid into the back seat. The cool leather felt grounding against your skin as he buckled you in silently, his focus unwavering. You could feel the tension in the air, thick and palpable, as he leaned in, resting his hand on the headrest. His expression softened slightly, a hint of concern breaking through his earlier sternness.

“Do you feel like you’re gonna be sick?” he inquired, his voice steady yet laced with a quiet urgency. You shook your head, trying to muster a reassuring smile, though the flutter of anxiety in your stomach made it hard.

“Okay,” he replied, his gaze steady on yours. “Start drinking this.” He handed you a bottle of water, his tone leaving no room for argument. “I want at least half of it gone by the time we get home. And if you think you’re feeling sick, just tell me, and I’ll pull over.”

The seriousness in his voice made your heart race. You nodded, taking the bottle from him, the cool plastic a small comfort in the heated moment. As you unscrewed the cap, you could sense the shift in his demeanour. He was looking out for you, but there was a firmness in his words that reminded you of the line you’d crossed.

“Okay.” you mumble, staring at his chin to avoid the intensity of his eyes. He sighed and closed the door before climbing into the driver's seat and starting the journey home. The ride wasn't long but it was dead silent and it gave you enough time for some of the alcohol to wear off and the reminders that you were sick to kick in. 

Shouta, of course, knew you at the very least, had a bad cold. That morning, he had taken charge, insisting you call off work and ordering you to stay in bed. He had been so sweetly concerned and caring. He had meticulously arranged everything, ensuring you had enough food and medicine at hand. You could still picture him moving around the kitchen, checking in on you with a watchful eye, his brow slightly furrowed in that familiar expression of worry.

Throughout the afternoon, he had kept in touch, sending periodic texts to check on your well-being. Each notification was a reminder of how deeply he cared. The messages were gentle nudges, urging you to rest and take care of yourself. You could almost feel his presence with each ping, as if he were there beside you, coaxing you to indulge in soup and reminding you when to take the next dose of cold and flu medicine.

But as the hours slipped by and daylight faded into evening, the excitement of your friends celebrating the end of the semester began to tug at you. The allure of laughter and music beckoned from the outside world, tempting you to leave the cocoon of blankets and soothing remedies he had encouraged you to embrace. You hadn’t mentioned your plans to Shouta, knowing full well the firm stance he had taken. He had told you when he left for his night patrol that you were to be doing nothing for the rest of the night but resting and getting better. 

In a moment of weakness, you had chosen to ignore his guidance, allowing the crippling fear of missing out to get to you. Now, as the consequences of your decision loomed large, you felt a heavy weight settle in your chest, a blend of regret and dread creating a terrible cocktail with how awful you were already feeling physically.

As Shouta pulled into the driveway, the rush of emotions overwhelmed you. The tears welled up, unbidden and hot, as the guilt of your choices crashed over you like a wave. You hiccuped, desperately trying to swallow back the sobs, but it was futile. When he parked the car and came around to your door, you barely registered his movements, lost in your own turmoil. As soon as he opened the door, he unbuckled you and gathered you into his arms, cradling you against him. 

“Fuck, baby, you’re okay,” he murmured, his voice low and soothing, as he felt you trembling against him. “I know you’re not feeling too hot. Come on, let’s get you inside and into some comfy clothes. Does that sound good?”

You nodded against his shoulder, the gesture almost instinctual as the weight of your exhaustion settled in. With a gentle yet firm motion, he hoisted you out of the car, his strength reassuring. You instinctively wrapped your limbs around him like a koala, seeking the comfort of his embrace. He adjusted his hold, securing you against him effortlessly as he maneuvered to get the door open with one arm, not even considering putting you down for a moment. The night air was cool against your skin, but Shouta's warmth kept the chill at bay. As he carried you inside, you buried your face in the crook of his neck, inhaling the scent of him.

He took care of you mostly in silence, his hands moving with a practiced ease as he guided your movements. Gently, he slipped off your heels, his touch tender against your tired feet. Without a word, he helped you out of your dress, replacing the once-glamorous outfit with the softness of your favourite pajamas. His fingers were careful as he wiped away the makeup you'd used to hide the ruddiness in your cheeks and the shadows beneath your eyes, his brow creasing slightly as he worked, focused but gentle.

When he pressed the cool glass of water into your hands, you drank obediently, the quiet rustle of him preparing the medicine a comforting sound in the background. As he handed you the pills, his eyes softened, a silent reminder that he was looking out for you. After you’d swallowed them, he guided you to sit down at your vanity, still working methodically, brushing away the remnants of the night.

The makeup wipe brushed over your nose, tickling slightly, and despite the exhaustion and the lingering tipsiness, a small giggle escaped your lips. You leaned up, catching his eyes in the mirror, and smiled mischievously, asking for a kiss. He indulged you, pressing a brief, soft kiss to your lips before continuing, his attention shifting to your hair. The tender motions of his hands as he brushed it through were almost hypnotic, lulling you into a sense of calm as he completed your nighttime routine for you.

A thought bubbled up, slipping out before you could stop it. “How did you know where I was? Thought patrol didn’t end till 4?” you whispered, your voice barely above a murmur as he turned you to face the mirror. Catching his eyes in the reflection, you saw a flicker of irritation still lingering there, and the weight of it made you shy away. You broke eye contact, your gaze dropping to the clutter of items strewn across the vanity from earlier in the night.

“Hizashi texted me when he got there,” he replied quietly, his voice steady but tinged with that edge of disappointment. You couldn't help but pout at the mention of it, feeling the sting of being caught, of letting him down. The weight of his gaze lingered on you, but you felt his concern just as deeply, even in the silence between you.

“Tattle-tale,” you mumbled under your breath, but before you could sink too far into your pout, Shouta’s fingers tipped under your chin, gently but firmly, guiding you to meet his eyes in the mirror.

“He wouldn’t have to tattle if you hadn’t been misbehaving, would he?” His voice held that familiar grumble, a mix of irritation and concern that made your heart skip. You swallowed, feeling the weight of his gaze and the undeniable truth behind his words.

“No, sir,” you murmured, looking as contrite as you felt. His expression softened slightly, and he let out a quiet puff of air, almost a sigh, before pulling you up from the vanity.

With his hand steadying you, he guided you toward the bed, but your legs still wobbled beneath you. Dizzy, you tumbled onto the mattress, a soft giggle escaping your lips as you sank into the plush blankets. Shouta rolled his eyes, but there was a tenderness behind it, and with practiced care, he shifted you to the other side and tucked you in properly, smoothing the covers over you.

“Wait, Sho... you’re not... are you mad at me?” you asked, your voice suddenly small and sincere, cutting through the haze of your tipsiness. His brow furrowed at the question, and for a moment, you held your breath, waiting for his answer.

“No, baby, I’m not mad. We’ll talk tomorrow,” he assured you, his voice softer now. He leaned down to press a kiss to your forehead, the warmth of his lips lingering for a moment before he straightened up. Rounding the bed, he moved to his side, slipping in beside you.

Somewhere in the back of your mind, you knew that conversation tomorrow wasn’t going to be a pleasant one. But as Shouta’s strong arms wrapped around you, pulling you close against his chest, the heaviness of the night melted away. His familiar scent, the steady beat of his heart, and the warmth of his body drowned out any lingering bad feelings. For now, wrapped up in him, everything felt right, and you let yourself drift into the comfort of sleep.

-

The morning greeted you with a vengeance, leaving you feeling every bit as awful as you feared. Your head throbbed with a dull, relentless ache, your sinuses were stuffed to the brim, and your body felt clammy and weak, so much more wrung out than you had been jus the day before. Groaning, you burrowed deeper into the blankets, hiding from the sunlight streaming through the windows. Despite the warmth of the covers, a bone-deep chill had taken root, making you shiver as you curled in on yourself.

“Wake up, baby. You have to take some medicine.” Shouta’s voice, calm and resolute, pierced your cocoon of self-pity. You whined in response, a pitiful sound muffled by the blankets.

“M’sleeping. No thanks,” you muttered petulantly, half-hoping he’d let it slide. Usually, this was when you’d hear him chuckle softly, maybe feel the comforting weight of his hand on your thigh as he gave you a few more moments to stir.

Instead, the covers were suddenly pulled back from your face, exposing you to the cool morning air and making you gasp at the loss of warmth. The sudden brightness forced your eyes to flutter open, though they quickly squinted against the light. Before you could protest, Shouta’s hand was on your face, gentle and deliberate, as he smoothed the strands of damp hair plastered to your clammy skin. The touch sent a shiver through you, the tenderness soothing away your irritation.

His expression hovered between stern and soft, his dark eyes scanning your flushed, pale face with an almost clinical precision. You could feel the weight of his worry as he brushed his thumb over your temple. Despite your exhaustion, guilt pooled in your chest, mingling with the sickness that had you pinned to the bed.

“It wasn’t really a request. Come on, sit up.” His voice was calm, but there was no mistaking the firmness behind it. Before you could muster a protest, his strong hands slipped under your back and shoulders, lifting you with ease. The sudden shift left you disoriented, and before you knew it, you were propped up against the headboard.

Two pills rested on the palm he held in front of your face, his dark eyes steady and expectant. “Open,” he instructed, his tone leaving no room for argument. Something in the commanding gentleness of his voice had you obeying instinctively, parting your lips without hesitation. He placed the pills on your tongue, and you grimaced as you swallowed them with a few sips of the water he pressed to your lips.

Just as you moved to push the glass away, his hand caught yours, steadying it. “Finish this,” he said firmly, guiding it back toward your mouth. The weight of his worry lingered in the way his fingers stayed wrapped around yours, ensuring you drank more.

You managed another sip, your movements sluggish and reluctant, before he spoke again, his voice softening. “Are you hungry?”

You shook your head, too weary to form words, and he nodded in quiet acceptance. “Okay,” he murmured, taking the now half-empty glass from your hands and setting it on the bedside table. His fingers brushed against your knuckles briefly, grounding you in the moment. “You can sleep a little longer until the meds kick in. We’ll talk when you’re feeling a bit better.”

You gulped and cast your eyes downward, unable to meet his steady gaze. The words he didn’t say lingered in the air, unspoken but heavy, a reminder of the talk you’d hoped that you might avoid. Shouta, ever composed, didn’t press. Instead, his hand smoothed over your hair, the motion tender and familiar, as if to reassure you that his frustration didn’t mean he cared any less.

He leaned down, pressing a kiss between your brows, a soft, lingering gesture that made your chest tighten. It wasn’t fair how easily he could dissolve your guilt and stubbornness in a single moment of care. You couldn’t even summon the faintest trace of upset, not when his touch was so gentle, so grounding. Instead, your eyelids grew heavier, the pull of exhaustion impossible to resist. With a quiet sigh, you let yourself drift, surrendering to the lull of warmth and safety he left behind.

Time passed in a haze, unmeasured and weightless. When you woke again, the pounding in your head had dulled to a faint, manageable throb, and though your limbs still felt heavy, they no longer ached with the same intensity. The room was empty now, sunlight spilling through the windows in soft golden streaks that painted the walls and the rumpled sheets beside you. If Shouta hadn't insisted on taking some medicine earlier, the light would probably be giving you the worst of headaches, but instead, you were able to enjoy the warmth. Of course, Shouta was right, as always. It was no wonder you let him take the reins so often; he had a knack for knowing exactly what you needed, even when you couldn’t see it yourself. It went beyond simple intuition, it was deliberate and unwavering care. It was why you trusted him so deeply.

If you didn’t know that, if you couldn’t feel it in the way he cared for you, you wouldn’t be in this dynamic with him in the first place. You wouldn’t be sitting here now, heart pounding in the quiet aftermath, debating whether pretending to sleep a little longer might save you from the punishment just a little longer, or if it would only make things worse.

But even as your thoughts tangled with uncertainty, you knew you wouldn’t trade this for anything. For all the moments like these, where guilt and the weight of your mistakes pressed down on you, there was always the unwavering reassurance that Shouta would steady you. He’d take you in hand, reminding you in no uncertain terms just how much you mattered to him.

He wouldn’t tolerate behaviour that diminished your worth, not in his eyes, and not in your own. It wasn’t just discipline; it was care, deeply rooted and uncompromising. And when all was said and done, forgiveness would follow, that was never an uncertainty. With Shouta, there was no lingering doubt, no unspoken resentment, only the quiet, steady rhythm of love in its most honest form.

It was about more than letting go; it was about giving that trust to someone who cherished it, someone who didn’t just take care of you but found joy in doing so. And in turn, you found joy in being cared for. It could be terrifying sometimes, to put that kind of trust in someone, but with Shouta it had always felt worth it. 

You sigh and slide out of bed, resigned to your fate. The chill in the air bites at your skin, and the sickness still clings to you making you shiver. You rummage through the closet until your fingers find the familiar softness of one of Shouta’s sweaters. It’s an old crew neck, worn and slightly stretched out, big even on him and perfect for wrapping yourself in his warmth.

Pulling it over your head, you pad out to the living room on bare feet. The sight that greets you stops you in your tracks, drawing a soft, dreamy sigh from your lips.

Shouta is perched on the couch, papers spread across the coffee table in neat stacks. A faint furrow creases his brow as he grades with careful precision, the rhythmic scratch of his pen the only sound in the room. One of the cats is curled in his lap snoring, and a ray of sunlight streams through the window, bathing the scene in a golden glow that feels almost unreal. For a moment, you wonder if you’re still dreaming.

His sharp eyes flick up, catching yours as you linger in the doorway. Before he can say a word, you shuffle over and flop down beside him, burying yourself against his shoulder and letting your eyes drift closed again. The familiar scent of him wraps around you, as grounding as the weight of his presence.

“G’morning baby.” you sigh, and his arm curls around you to tug you to his side properly. 

“Good morning, my love. Feeling a little better?” he murmurs, his voice soft and low, vibrating gently against your ear. You nod, nestling closer into his shoulder, letting the comforting rhythm of his breathing soothe your lingering unease.

The two of you sit in companionable silence, the occasional scratch of his pen the only sound in the room. He finishes grading the last test on his stack, and you catch a glimpse of his expression as he marks something on the page. Oof. Poor kid.

You might have dozed off again if not for the fluttering unease in your stomach, a familiar mix of guilt and anticipation. The thought of the looming punishment makes it impossible to relax entirely, though Shouta’s calm presence keeps you from fully spiralling.

And then, as if he could read your mind, he sets the papers aside with a quiet sigh. The finality of it settles in your chest like a stone. He turns his face into your hair, his lips brushing against your temple as he speaks softly, a warmth and firmness interwoven in his tone.

“We need to have a talk, little girl.”

You bite your lip, the weight of his gaze settling heavily over you. A sigh escapes your lips as you try to find the right words. “I know. I’m sorry,” you murmur, your voice barely audible over the pounding of your heart.

Shouta doesn’t immediately respond. He pulls back slightly, his eyes scanning your face, assessing. The silence stretches just long enough to make you squirm.

Finally, he exhales deeply, sitting back and crossing his arms. His posture is relaxed, but the intensity in his eyes keeps you rooted in place.

“Why?” he asks, his voice calm but piercing.

Your stomach churns. You know the answer, of course, you do, but the way he asks makes your guilt multiply. He doesn’t raise his voice; he doesn’t need to. You glance down at your lap, your fingers fidgeting with a loose thread on your pajama pants, anything to avoid the weight of his disappointment.

“For… for not listening,” you whisper, each word sticking in your throat. “And going out when you told me not to.”

“That’s correct,” he says, his tone steady but no less cutting. “But more broadly, I’m extremely not thrilled with your complete disregard for your own health and well-being.”

The words land with a precision that makes your chest ache.

He leans forward, his elbows resting on his knees, his voice softening but still firm. “I love taking care of you. But part of that is making sure you take care of yourself when I’m not there. I need to trust that when I tell you to rest and recover, you’ll actually listen. Instead, you put yourself in harm’s way, and for what? A few hours of fun?”

His gaze locks onto yours, and the weight of his disappointment has you nodding mutely.

“And,” he continues, his voice sharpening, “I have never, and will never, tolerate you lying to me.”

Your head snaps up, a reflexive protest bubbling to the surface. “I didn’t lie—”

The glare he fixes you with stops the words dead in their tracks. It’s a look that leaves no room for negotiation.

“What did you say,” he asks, his voice low and measured, “when I told you to spend the night resting and recovering before I left for work?”

Your cheeks burn as you break eye contact. His stare feels like a spotlight, illuminating every guilty thought you’re trying to suppress. You shift uncomfortably, your voice trembling as you admit, “I… I said, ‘Yes, Daddy.’”

The silence that follows feels deafening. You dare a glance up at him, but his expression is unreadable. The weight of your admission hangs heavy in the air, and you shrink under the judgment you can feel emanating from him.

Finally, he sighs, the sound carrying more disappointment than anger. “You know what you did,” he says, each word deliberate. “Now it’s time to face the consequences.”

Your stomach twists, dread pooling in your chest. His tone is calm, almost gentle, but it carries a finality that leaves no room for debate.

“I wouldn’t normally punish you while you’re sick,” he continues, leaning back against the couch, his voice even. “But since you seem to think that being sick has no bearing on your decisions, I won’t let it affect mine either. Stand up.”

Your knees feel weak as you scramble to obey, rising unsteadily to your feet. Confusion flickers across your face- why not just pull you over his lap like usual? Why make you stand?

“Go and get the wooden hairbrush,” he says, his voice low and dispassionate, the command sending a shiver down your spine. “The flat, square one. And lose your pants on the way.”

Your gasp escapes before you can stop it, your hands instinctively clutching at the waistband of your pajama pants.

He doesn’t budge, his expression firm, his gaze unwavering. “You heard me.”

The room feels colder as you move, your steps hesitant. The gravity of the moment weighs heavily with each step you take toward the bedroom. Your heart races as you reach for the brush, the smooth wood cool against your palm. Sliding your pajama pants down your legs, you feel your cheeks burn with a mixture of shame and anticipation. You decide to take off the sweater as well, knowing Shouta would have you sweating soon.  

When you return to the living room, brush in hand and pants abandoned, Shouta’s eyes meet yours. His gaze softens slightly, a flicker of care visible beneath the stern exterior, but it does nothing to ease the butterflies raging in your stomach.

“Good girl,” he murmurs, gesturing for you to come closer. You obey silently, beyond arguing at this point. There would be no getting out of this, Shouta cares too much about you to let you get away with this. You hand over the brush and he places it on the arm of the couch, and then you fold yourself over his lap obediently. Without another word he folds your shirt up to expose the entirety of your backside, and places his hand on it, making you squirm with dread.

“Safeword?”

“Red” you whimper, accepting your fate.

He doesn't hesitate any longer, steadily applying his hand to your ass with all the restrained muscle of a pro hero, just hard enough to make sure you know exactly where you belong. The first few swats land on your bare ass, and you already want to start crying. And then he starts talking. 

“Let's go through each unfortunate choice you made yesterday, shall we?” he says, and you try not to tense up at his disappointed tone.

“First, you disobeyed me when I specifically told you to stay in bed while you weren't feeling well, and second, you lied to me and said that you would be home for the night. Third, you disregarded yourself and your health, which we will be going into great detail about with the hairbrush.”

As he laid out your actions, your ass got steadily reddened, and the tears started falling against your will. You fisted the fabric of the couch and willed yourself not to squirm, knowing it would only make things worse for you. 

Shouta’s voice was calm but carried the weight of unshakable authority, each word landing like a stone in your chest. “Do you think I asked you to stay home for no reason? That I ask you to listen to me for my own amusement?”

Your stomach churned at his tone, the disappointment in his voice far worse than any raised voice could have been.

“You trust me to know what’s best for you, and in turn, I trust you to be honest with me. I specifically told you to stay home, to rest and recover. Instead, I get a text from Hizashi that you’re out, you’re drinking, and completely ignoring what I asked of you. What if he hadn’t messaged me? What if I had come home to an empty house, no idea where you were, and no way to ensure you were safe?” 

The image his words painted made your chest tighten with guilt. You could hear the strain in his voice, the quiet upset that cut deeper than anger ever could. You knew how much this dynamic meant to him—not just as a way to care for you, but as a source of reassurance in a life that was chaotic and dangerous. Being a pro-hero came with enough unpredictability; this was one area of his life he could keep steady.

Even with that realization weighing heavy on your chest, you couldn’t help it. Against your better judgment, a pouty response escaped your lips, soft and stubborn, laced with defiance that you immediately regretted. 

“I was gonna be home before you got back—” The sharp crack of his hand meeting your thigh cut off your words with a yelp, the sting blooming as tears welled in your eyes. His hand rested firmly on the offended area, grounding you.

“That is not the point and you know it. You dont get to have a bratty attitude with me about this, or the hairbrush is going to be followed by a long time out in the corner for you to fix it. Am. I. Clear.” 

“Yes- ‘m sorry, I'm sorry sir.” you cry, your face soaked and dripping onto the cushion. 

“Hm. As I was saying, this will not be happening again. You misbehave, you get consequences. For the next two weeks, you will be in this house and in our bed by 9 p.m. sharp. If I’m not home, I expect a picture of you in bed, and then you will put your phone in my bedside table.”

The shame of his words was almost as unbearable as the sting still radiating from your thighs. You sobbed into the couch, mortified at the level of supervision he felt you required. “Yes, Daddy,” you whimpered, your voice hoarse.

“I am not playing about this,” he pressed on, his gaze unyielding. “If I find out you’ve stepped foot out of this apartment, you had better have a damn good reason—or you’ll find yourself right back here, no excuses. If you can’t take care of yourself on your own, I will do it for you.”

You nodded again, your sobs turning into shaky, uneven breaths. The shame was overwhelming, and yet you knew he wasn’t done.

As the spanks land, the force behind them pulls a sharp gasp from you, and each strike feels like a wave of guilt crashing over you. His words pierce through the haze of pain. "I think this way you might begin to understand how serious your actions are. His disappointment lingers in your chest, making it harder to breathe.

The spanks stopped for a moment, and you gasped, your body trembling as you tried to catch your breath. Shouta’s hands, firm and unyielding just moments ago, softened as they rubbed soothing circles on your spine. His voice, low and steady, cut through the haze of your tears.

“Breathe, baby. Take a few deep breaths,” he murmured, his tone no longer sharp but filled with an unyielding care that made your chest ache.

You hiccupped, following his instruction as you sucked in shaky gulps of air. The relief of his touch warred with the knowledge that this reprieve was temporary. Your breath finally evened out, and your tears slowed, but they didn’t stop.

“Good girl,” he said quietly, though there was no warmth in his praise—just a steady, measured approval for doing as you were told. His hand drifted to your shoulder, squeezing gently before he continued.

“Now,” he began, his tone sharp once more, “let’s discuss the way you’ve been treating your health.”

Your stomach churned, and your heart thudded as the words landed. His hand left your shoulder, and you braced yourself for what was to come, dread building with every passing second.

The hairbrush came down with a crack, the sound cutting through the room and drawing a pained cry from your lips. Shouta didn’t bother to shush you; the punishment was meant to leave a lasting impression, and he doesn't want you to hide where you are at emotionally.  The strikes weren’t as rapid as the earlier flurry of his hands, but each one was deliberate, the wide, heavy impact sinking deep into your already tender skin.

You sobbed with each blow, your cries punctuating the rhythm he set.

“I will never, ever stand for you treating yourself the way you chose to last night.” His voice was calm, but the sharpness in his tone felt like another lash, hitting somewhere deeper than just your body. “You were sick- you are sick- and the fact that you thought you could just disregard that to go party makes me think you don’t understand how seriously I take your wellbeing. Not to mention how seriously I expect you to take it yourself.”

The hairbrush came down again, and you twisted slightly, though his firm grip kept you in place. The dull thud seemed to echo in your chest, a physical reminder of just how much you had messed up.

“Every part of you is important, mind and body,” he continued, the cadence of his strikes steady and unrelenting. “One of our biggest rules is that you don’t disrespect yourself, and you know very well I don’t just mean self-deprecating words. I expect you to take the same care for yourself when I’m gone that I do when I’m here.”

The words hit harder than the brush, and your quiet whimper turned into a full sob. His disappointment was unbearable, an ache in your chest that far outweighed the sting of your reddened skin.

“Clearly, you can’t be trusted to do so on your own,” he said, pausing for a moment to let his words sink in.

The tears streaking down your face weren’t just from the physical pain; they came from the overwhelming guilt of letting him down. You knew how much he valued self-care, and how hard he worked to instill that same value in you, even when he struggled to prioritize it for himself.

You sniffled, hiccuping through your tears, and a treacherous thought flitted through your mind. Hypocrite. He barely looked after himself most days. Your attitude almost made itself known again before the next blow snapped you out of your thoughts, and you yelped, realizing too late that the silence had stretched on too long.

“Every day until you are one-hundred percent better,” he said, his tone unyielding, “you’re going to sit at that table and write me fifty lines, telling me exactly how well you’re going to take care of yourself in the future.”

You let out a soft wail of protest at the thought, but he ignored it, leaning in to speak into your ear.

“And trust me, little girl, you do not want to have this discussion again.”

And then, as suddenly as it began, it was over. The punishing rhythm of the hairbrush ceased, and the room settled into a heavy, tear-soaked silence. Your sobs, however, remained steady, shaking your body as it lay slumped over his lap.

Shouta’s hands shifted, their movements no longer firm and corrective but gentle, smoothing up and down your back and thighs. He didn’t rush you, letting you cry as long as you needed, his presence grounding you even as your emotions spilled over.

When your cries softened to hiccups, he gently helped you upright, maneuvering you so you were straddling his lap. Your arms wrapped tightly around his neck as you buried your tear-streaked face into his shirt, soaking the fabric with every breathy sob. He didn’t mind; his arms held you just as tightly, encasing you in a protective warmth.

“Okay, kid,” he murmured, his lips brushing the crown of your head as he swayed you gently. “Alright, you’re okay now. I love you so much, baby.”

His voice was soft, full of love and patience, and it was that tenderness that finally cracked the dam inside you. The moment you had enough air in your lungs, you blurted out in a desperate rush:

“I’m so sorry, Daddy! I’m sorry I fucked up—I didn’t mean to! I just—I wanted—I’m just so, so sorry,” you wailed, clinging to him like a lifeline. The words poured out of you like water from a broken dam, each one carrying the weight of your regret. You weren’t just apologizing for the mistake, you were apologizing for letting him down, for making him feel like his care wasn’t enough to anchor you. The thought of betraying the trust he put in you made the tears fall faster.

“Oh, baby,” he said, his voice thick with emotion as he hugged you even closer. “Okay, okay. I know. Thank you, babygirl, I know you are. You’re forgiven now, okay? You did so good for me, you’re all forgiven.”

His words were a balm to your guilt, soothing and grounding you as you took shuddering breaths, gradually winding down. Your sobs quieted into occasional hiccups, and he gently tilted you back to examine your tear-streaked face. Shouta’s soft smile held no trace of the earlier sternness. He reached over, plucking a tissue from the side table, and methodically wiped away your tears, along with the snot and drool that added to your humiliation. He discarded the tissue without a second thought, his focus entirely on you.

“Let’s go take a bath, baby, clear up your sinuses,” he murmured, his voice warm and soothing. He hoisted you into his arms with ease and carried you to the bathroom, grabbing two towels along the way. Setting them on the counter, he gingerly placed you atop them, your seated position making you just a little taller than him. He stood between your legs, his hands resting gently on your thighs, and studied your face with concern.

“Are you okay?” he asked, his voice earnest and patient.

You took a moment to check in with yourself, cataloging the aches in your body, the tenderness in your emotions, and the lingering sting of your punishment. Eventually, you nodded and murmured, “Yeah, ‘m okay. I’m just really sorry.”

His brows furrowed slightly, a flicker of sadness crossing his features. Leaning up, he pressed a soft, lingering kiss to your lips. “I know, sweetheart. I believe you.”

He didn’t push for more, understanding how fragile you felt. Instead, he gave you space, letting you sit quietly while he started filling the tub. The sound of water rushing against porcelain filled the room, and he quickly stripped down before helping you out of your oversized shirt. His movements were efficient but tender as if he were afraid to overwhelm you.

Once the tub was full, he climbed in first and extended a hand to guide you in, settling you between his legs with your back pressed firmly to his chest. The warm water enveloped you, and his arms encircled your middle, holding you close.

“There we go, my good girl,” he murmured into your hair, his breath warm against your temple. The praise made you shiver, the tension in your body melting away as you nestled further into his embrace.

“Always my good girl, no matter what,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head. “I love you so much.”

His words wrapped around you like the heat of the water, comforting and secure, and you let yourself relax completely. This was where you belonged—wrapped in his love and care, forgiven and cherished.

[kimsmuse]

yandere rich kid !!

not really a kid, just a spoiled brat.

gender neutral!reader, obsessive behaviour, blackmailing, mentions of drunk driving, implications of sex but no real smut TT. if you want to talk about yanderes my inbox is always open <33

i was thinking about mingi of ateez when i wrote it so you can imagine him as the faceclaim (v v optional)

very rough idea but !! yandere nepo kid who is The Wild Kid, he’s his parents' and siblings' worst nightmare, partying like its his last night, hooking up right and left.

just imagine like early 2010s justin bieber but, um, no hate to him, but better.

this guy isn't evil or cruel or anything, he's just numb, and he's doing every possible thing that comes his way to just feel something, anything he can.

drugs? nothing. alcohol? nothing. nothing makes him feel like the people he sees in the movies, he tries talking to so many people, sleeps with them, but he can't feel it.

and it becomes increasingly uncomfortable for him inside his own body, he's aware of the things that are happening, his parents being disappointed, threatening to write him off their will but he can't seem to stop himself.

club after club, every bouncer knows him, the bartenders know his order, accurate down to the T because they know what's going to happen if they don't.

and enter you. okay, okay, this seems wattpad-ish but its not like love at first sight or anything. because when you and your friends sneak in to the vip section, the least of your worries is the nepo guy.

your friends seem to have an instant attraction to him, thanks to his entertainment news headlines. "famous business tycoon's son gone wild!" and what not. who doesn't want their name attached to a guy like that? everybody who doesn't have an ounce of rationality in their brain!

but he had other plans for tonight, he was spiralling, and it was becoming increasingly difficult for him to sit here normally and pretend his insides weren't burning. why was there no comfort for him?

he dreaded going home and waking up, looking at the clear disappointed looks of his family. he wishes he was different too, he wants to say to them.

the dance floor clears as the night deepens and soon enough your friends have abandoned their idea of getting laid by him, their patience running out as they grab some other people to take home.

you’re trying to get yourself a cab when he brushes past you, looking back briefly to apologise but when he is a bit ahead, he turns back again and offers you a ride, which you politely refuse, “thanks for asking but i’ll get a cab soon enough,”

okay, then he’ll wait with you! he doesn’t have anything better to do and he’d be going against the way his parents raised him (as if he hasn’t done that enough) if he left you out here alone so late.

after about 20 minutes of standing, looking through various taxi apps, you give up and take him up on his offer, and all the while our rich, spoiled yandere is figuring out what he’s feeling, it was out of basic courtesy that he offered you a lift but now that you’re sitting beside him in his car, he feels like he’s breathing in a new kind of air.

and you swear you didn’t mean to, but maybe its your hormones and the disappointment that all your friends got someone they went home with but you didn’t.. so as soon as you’re in the car, you give him The Look. and while normally the guy would just take it to his backseat, something in him stops him. instead he says, “my place isn’t far,” you nod.

when you regain your senses, it’s too late. it’s the next morning. but thankfully, he was the last person to ask you about what you both were after last night, and the last person to want to “see you again,” so you try your best to get dressed as his sleeping form just lies there peacefully. he’s cute, you admit that.

a few days pass by and you’re thankful that this wasn’t like the other times where his photos and the people he was with would be all over social media, so you went on with your life normally, attending classes, studying and all the jazz.

when once out of thr blue, when you’re working the counter at your part-time, he’s there. he gives you a small smile as you become increasingly uncomfortable. “hey,” you greet him awkwardly.

“i wanted to talk to you… about that night,”

and believe it or not but that’s when your entire life changes. the guy who didn’t even know your name was suddenly there asking you for a bit if your time and the manager obviously obliges, is even eager for it, the publicity that it would get the cafè ….

but yeah, as i was saying, he’s going to come up with a “will you date me?” it doesn’t, matter if he doesn’t know your name, he’ll learn, he’ll learn everything about you, he was willing to, didn’t that count? “please, give me a chance, you won’t regret it, i swear.” and you gulp, okay…

and after that, he’s driving you home from work, home from dates he’s taking you out to, and home from even your college which isn’t even a 5 minute walk from your apartment, and although it’s supposed to feel like “dating” you can’t help but feel a little awkward around him, the fact that he was doting on you like no one ever had in your life and seemed to be perfectly fine with whatever you wanted was just a little off putting.

for the yandere, it’s as if he’s been reborn, it’s as if he found a new purpose at life, he’s so overjoyed at the fact that he was looking for a sign and god actually gave it to him. it was you! he felt everything then, he felt heart beating in his chest, he felt the rain on his face, it was everything h ever wanted.

“this is NOT the guy from the headlines, y/n, this is his twin or something,” your friends were collectively shocked.

even the media was. they wrote articles and articles on if this was just a new stunt or has the resident playboy actually settled down? and they were snooping around your life too, and when the guy went to his parents to help stop that, his parents were delighted to hear that their son wasn’t asking for a new car but instead to help protect a person’s privacy?? who was he??

but they helped, obviously. not without a catch though, they hired a private investigatior to spy on you, were you blackmailing their son? who are you? they weren’t opposed to him finding love, they just wanted to make sure he was safe and not being taken advantage of. when you turn up clean and the investigatior lets them know that you aren’t even in a bit of love with him as much he is, his father is scared.

so he hires the same investigator again, it’s safe to say that money the private investigator made on these two tasks was enough to suffice him for the rest of his years.

and his father decides to pay you a visit, “please, this is the first month since he started middle school that i haven’t been spending on people to keep their mouths shut and to not file cases aainst him, you’ve truly changed him,”

you’re a little uncomfortable again, being this person wasn’t someone you wanted to be, jsut be reduced to beng someone who fixed him, he was nice, yes, but you did not want a relationship right now, let alone a serious-committed one.

then the father takes out his trump card, “…i did not want to do this but,”

he knows where your parents live, your siblings’ workplace.

“so, play along, okay?”

and the worst thing is that, you can't even call the police on one of the richest men in your country.

and as if this problem wasn’t enough, it isn’t even been 3 months and your friends have entirely stopped talking to you. why? well, because, you can’t even have a sleepover without that guy calling you every hour, asking if you ate well, are drinking enough water. and you don't blame them, you wouldn't have liekd it if you were in their position as well.

when you try, (keyword, try) to talk to him about it, he gets super sulky… what do you mean you're bothered by being left alone by your friends? you had him… wasn't that enough?

even at your part-time, it was getting uncomfortable, the times he would just sit in the cafè, working (yes, he even agreed to take over his father's company fot you) and while he obviously paid for his drinks, it was just concerning to the people you knew that he was fliterally following you around, that wasn't healthy.

you have an intuition it won't work, but you decide to give it a try anyway. "hey, we need to talk," you text him. and there’s a response in not even seconds, “what’s wrong?”

“just come over,”

you best believe he’s there in not even 10-15 minutes, and he’s panting too. couldn’t even wait for the lift, his precious darling needed him.

“listen.. i,”

“what?”

“i don’t think this is….working out,”

“what?”

“don’t freeak out-“

“freak out? are you kidding? i.. love you, how isn’t this working out?”

“you’re way too controlling,”

“i’m what? do you know how many peole would kill to be in your place, and people who would want their boyfriends to be like me? nd you say i’m ‘too controlling’?”

“it’s…”

“you have no idea how grateful you should be to me,” you’d never seen him so… angry and it was like you could see the comments being true. “he’s so rude, acts so entitled,” being true.

“don’t look at me like that, i tried my best to appeal to you in a way you should have liked,” he hangs his head down.

“now we do things my way,”

kiss your freedom, part-time, college and apartment bye bye, because you won’t need it anyway, you’ll be his spouse, and there’s no bigger qualification than that. you desperately want to work? be his assistant, he’s getting ready to take over the company soon enough. his parents do see it, the things he’s doing but they can’t interefere, at least he’s staying out of the headlines, that’s all that matters.

[coraniaid]

5, 13, and 15 for btvs for the fandom ask game

#5 … the scene from it that lives in my head rent free.

Too many to choose from, really. Without thinking about it too much, I guess my top ten (in no particular order) is something like:

Buffy finding out that she's going to die fighting the Master in Prophecy Girl: "They say how he's going to kill me? Do you think it'll hurt? [...] Giles, I'm sixteen years old. I don't want to die." [Season 1 has its growing pains, but SMG's acting was incredible right from the start and this scene is no exception]

Buffy's confrontation with Ford in the Sunset Club at the end of Lie To Me ["you don't have a good choice but you have a choice" is the most memorable and most often quoted line, but the whole scene is really good and I think my rewatch last year cemented my belief that this is the period where the show really consistently starts to find its feet]

Buffy blowing up the Judge with a rocket launcher in Innocence (complete with the Judge's puzzled "what's that do?") [there's a reason this scene made it into the opening credits of Season 3]

The final scene of Becoming Part 2 (or really the multiple scenes in the few minutes after Buffy has just sent Angel to hell and leaves town while Full Of Grace plays in the background) [still one of the most effective season finales I've ever watched and, for my money, the best musical montage in the show's entire run (with apologies to the many Goodbye To You fans)]

The scene in Revelations where Gwendolyn Post visits Faith in her motel room and we really start to see how desperate Faith is for any hint of positive attention from an adult in her life [maybe not as obvious an example as some of the others on this list, but I've been thinking about this scene a lot this year]

The Amends porch scene ("Looked like that party thing was going to be a drag ... I didn't really have anything ... you know.") [yes, Faith, we all know]

Graduation Day Part 2's hospital dream sequence ("is this your mind or mine?" "Beats me"), complete with Buffy waking up, finding Faith still unconscious and gently kissing her on the forehead [the fact Whedon insisted this scene is entirely non-romantic while claiming that Buffy's relationship with Riley next season is an example of a 'healthy and happy' and 'normal' romance explains, I think, a good third of everything wrong with Buffy as a show (the other two thirds is mostly the racism)]

Faith-as-Buffy whaling on Buffy-as-Faith in the church in Who Are You? while Faith-as-Buffy screams abuse at herself through tears ("do you think I'm afraid of you? you're nothing ... disgusting ... murderous bitch ... you're nothing") [it's not subtle, but then Buffy isn't an especially subtle show]

The opening few minutes of The Body, up to Buffy's shocked reaction after she hears herself tell Giles that "...we're not supposed to move the body" [I genuinely still cannot bring myself to rewatch this; it's one of the most upsetting things I can remember seeing in a work of fiction]

Buffy clawing her way out of her own grave in Bargaining [in general I have kind of mixed feelings about Season 6 but this moment and in fact this whole two-parter is really well done]

#13 … which canon or popular fanon relationship I can't stand or feel 'meh' about and why.

I don't think I'm brave enough to answer this question in any detail.

Uh. There are a number of popular canon and fanon relationships in the show that I do not especially care about and try my best not to talk about to avoid getting into unnecessarily tedious arguments. Let's just leave it at that.

#15 … which character I would choose for the chopping block if I knew the writers wanted to kill someone.

Hank Summers.

OK, that's kind of a glib answer.

The truth is I don't think there are really any remotely sympathetic characters whose deaths would improve the show. I don't think any of the Core Four should have died. Obviously I don't think Dawn should have died. I don't think Robin or Kennedy or any more of the former Potentials should have died. And annoying as Andrew Wells often is (and interpreting 'sympathetic' rather generously) I think his story works better if he survives.

If Oz had died on leaving the show it would have made the writers' double standard around what happens when a woman breaks up with one of the Core Four as opposed to what happens when a man breaks up with one of them a bit less pronounced, I guess. But I don't think Oz's death in and of itself would improve the story; if anything I would have preferred Oz to come back to the show at some point and return to being a regular (and have to relate to the gang in a way beyond being Willow's boyfriend).

(There's a persistent rumour -- one that I don't believe -- that says that 'originally' Oz was going to die in Passion instead of Jenny Calendar. But, quite separately from my thoughts about Jenny's death, I don't think that would have worked thematically or really made any sense.)

And who does that leave? Olivia shouldn't have died [but she should have been on the show more]. Ethan shouldn't have died [but we should have seen him at least once more after A New Man]. Amy shouldn't have died [but she should have been written very differently when she came back to the show]. Harmony already dies once and I don't think the show would treat her second death any better. Drusilla just kind of vanishes after Crush (barring flashbacks), but I wouldn't have wanted her to die if she came back. Who else? Percy? Parker? Graham? I don't believe anyone cares about any of these characters (and obviously Parker at least is, uh, not sympathetic).

So, back to where I started.

I don't think Hank Summers' death would affect the story much, if at all [I genuinely don't know if Buffy and Dawn would ever even find out] and I don't think anybody who watches the show could possibly mourn him, but I'd certainly find it satisfying in a purely vindictive kind of way. So, yeah, let's go with that.

[morrisxn02]

from g with love–

(self para)

that a compliment? he read the message again, staring at the kind word in which the first line of text ended. bet g said that to every guy… but he also wanted to revel in the flattery – that feeling of outsmarting someone you always thought smarter than you and suddenly you prove yourself more intelligent than them and life is beautiful again because the one person who made you insecure finally had to bow and recognize you were better than them. well, not exactly the scenario here – just for the sake of being realistic – but he allowed himself to pretend that that was what it was for a moment. it even distracted him of what that entailed… that greer had been the muse of a project by––

basement. main administration building, the next one said. take advantage of midterms. wow, what was with all this serendipitous generosity? had g taken a liking to him all of a sudden? he wouldn’t look the gift horse in its mouth, of course. just surprised. but he’d follow the orders. make sure to look for any information on greer.  

computer closes immediately. thank god. finally a decent reason to stop looking at those endless lines of 0s and 1s. jesus christ, he had to drop out of this fucking thing or he would flunk this semester and his parents would find out that– well, never mind.

basement. main administration building. he had to devise a plan. no time to think about such an unimportant thing like his major. daytime. to hide in plain sight. no one would suspect a morrison going into the administration building in the middle of the afternoon. nights would be madness. he was sure there were all kinds of alarms and security cameras that he wouldn’t be able to spot. plus, there were patrol cars on campus now. all through the night. bound to suspect a scarecrow-like figure walking around faculty buildings with a black hoodie. better to go in with the full staff there and trust his ability to lie his way in and out of places to help him escape. years of theatre classes had to serve him for something since his parents never let him become a real actor.

***

two days into midterm week, there he was. at daytime. main administration building. blood thumping. so fast he could almost hear it. somehow sense it on his ears. in his stomach, a tight feeling. he’d never been used to sneaking in or out. never needed it actually. maybe at his grandparents, first year in france. his friends always invited him to parties grand-père et grand-mère disapproved of. but other than that, he never needed to be stealthy about anything. but he had a perfect plan – 95,7% failproof. if he got caught he would just say oh shit i got lost. what was the worst that could happen?

he walked through the doors seamlessly – messenger bag hanging from his shoulders, hands in his pocket, sleeves of his shirts folded up to three-fourths, and a smile on his face. oh, hello. good afternoon, mrs. hershkowitz. how’s the wife, mr. koubeck? yes, yes. we all saw that oppenheimer win coming, susan. kind of a disappointment if you ask me. zone of interest deserved it more. a charming smile, a little chuckle. just another wednesday. he still needed a good excuse to be there, though, just in case.

two knocks on a wooden door, above the frosted glass, gold letters read office of extracurricular affairs. the door swung open, and the small, middle-aged, white-haired, pale-skinned woman’s frown suddenly turned into a soft smile. hi, mr. morrison. hi, annie. and she moved away from the door, inviting him in. what can I help you with? um, i’m in a bit of a pickle… a few students are saying their report cards are not showing that they participated in the writing club last semester… looked straight into her eyes as he said this. eyes pleading, telling her, look at me… i’m the one who has to solve everyone’s problems all the time. can you help me? if he weren’t so conscious about being a good liar, he would’ve self-diagnosed as a high-functioning sociopath. but he never abused this skill. saved it only for times of absolute need.  

really? and they’re just now realizing that? oh, annie. you know how we are. attention spans of goldfish. she chuckles. just want to make sure all their participation and attendances are accounted for… think you can get that paperwork for me? annie, tips of her toes sustaining her weight, put a hand on his cheek. well, at least they have you to make sure things are going well. you know, it’s great you’re the student rep for the writing club. reports are always on time. wish more students were like you. he smiles. you’re too kind to me. she turned around, unlocked a door to another room, where they kept all the file cabinets. this might take me a while, eddie. you might want to make yourself comfortable there. there’s coffee and some biscuits, if you want. oh, don’t worry, i’ll be here. he waved a hand in the air, moving to sit on a chair. she walked into the other room, door closing behind her, he got up – back barely touching the cushions – and walked out.

not too happy about lying to her. sweet lady. like fooling a puppy or a child. but it had to be done.

door closed delicately as he stepped into the hall. got to be careful. try to make the round trip before she’s out looking for him. either way, the messenger bag still awaited him on the coffee table. he’d just gone to the toilet, she would think. down the hall, right, right, second door to the left – he’d been there enough times to know. and, at the end of the hall, was the emergency staircase. he only had to make sure that he looked like he was going to the bathroom to the cameras just in case.

so he went. wump-wump. wump-wump. heartrate rising. he tried breathing a little slower. to no avail, obviously.

down the hall. right. right.

wump-wump. wump-wump.

no cameras beyond that spot, he noticed. and if he were guessing right, the last camera couldn’t even catch the first door to the left – the women’s room – much less the men’s. so, he walked past the second door to the right and went straight to the one at the end of the hall.

wumpwump. wumpwump.

door shut lightly, again. footsteps echoing inside the concrete walls as he paced downwards, below the ground floor.

wumpwump. wumpwump. wumpwump. as he reached the door to the basement.

maybe it would be locked and he would have to turn around and go. but he pressed down on the handle and something clicked behind it. no turning back. also, he couldn’t disappoint g……. what a stupid fucking thought. what did that mean? disappoint g. fuck g. he was doing that for himself.

wumpwumpwumpwumpwumpwumpwumpwumpwumpwumpwumpwumpwumpwump. the last door closed behind him. basement lit up instantly. heart felt like it was about to stop as something churned at the bottom of his stomach. but he was alone. motion sensors, he figured. fuck muttered under his breath. only then he realized the lights were a cozy, warm yellow. the horrified state started draining away, but the wumpwumpwump remained. not much to look at. old boxes collecting dust. spider webs. some movement in a corner. rats or cockroaches. quickly, he started searching around. it was an ample space, but the things he was looking for couldn’t be that well-hidden. they’d barely had the time to pack everything up properly. a pile of cardboard boxes caught his eye. newer, brighter brown. not moldy or dusty as the others. a few steps towards them. something touched him, squeaking as it passed by. dust falling on him, feeling like small animals crawling through his hair. fucking disgusting. but there it was. flashlight of his phone illuminating dark sharpie writing on the outside of the boxes. dean zuko, it read. a late birthday gift, maybe? g really had been generous to him, after all…

[patowrd]

dando fic snippet pt. 5 😳 (one day soon i'll actually post the first third of this fic - i promise - but for now have a dando club scene)

Of course it’s Carlos’ idea to go clubbing.

Everyone’s here, even Max, and everyone seems keen on getting absolutely fucking hammered. Daniel can’t remember if he has anything planned for tomorrow, so he orders a gin and tonic, specifying “double” as the bartender nods.

“Feeling brave, are we Danny?” Max asks. He's nursing a pint, an orange slice floating languidly in his glass.

“Feeling like I’ve got nothing to lose mate,” he shouts over the house groove. He brings the glass to his lips and swallows, inhaling through his teeth as the alcohol scrapes its way down his throat. He loves this feeling, the bitter bite of the tonic lingering on his tongue. It fades to soft sweetness as he turns to the bartender, ordering another before he even leaves the bar. 

He's aiming to get drunk enough to silence the nagging worry in his brain. Lando and Carlos have found their way onto the dance floor, and Daniel can’t help but stare at Carlos’ hands, which smooth down the faux-satin fabric of a girl’s slip as they sway, wordless. There's something enticing about the rhythm they’ve found, the breathless buzz of a couple of beers and two endorphin-seeking hearts. Daniel can’t remember the last time he’s felt that rush, the novelty of an unknown body pressed against him close as he loses himself in sensation, in pure feeling. He hasn’t had time lately, at least that’s what he’s told himself, that between standing behind the bar and smoking at the back door he’s had no break long enough to taste a stranger’s gin-soaked lips. He finds the need growing in him though, a need which crests as Carlos grips her waist, one hand firm as the other gently cradles the small of her back.

He pretends the bartender’s eyebrow doesn’t raise when he orders his third drink.

The table Daniel finds (as far away from Carlos as he can manage, so that the ache he feels when he watches can subside), is covered in a film of spilled drinks and cigarette ash. He sits alone and stares at the ice melting in his glass, wondering whether he’d better order a fourth or just head home and call it a day. Maybe this isn’t him anymore, he thinks, maybe he’s too far gone to go back to partying, to be the kind of person who, easy as breathing, can find someone to share a dance floor with. He downs the drink and inhales sharp, and he’s a second away from standing up when someone smacks him across the shoulder and sits in the booth opposite him.

“Danny!” Lando says, something strong and sweet on his breath. and then, in mock sadness, “Man you’re all alone out here.”

Daniel laughs, pretending the remark doesn’t sting something deep within his heartstrings, “Ah, and you’re drunk”

“You’re not?” he asks, eyes gliding over Daniel’s now empty glass.

“Nah, not yet buddy”

“Well we’ve gotta work on that” Lando says, matter of fact, a playful smirk on his lips, “Don’t wanna leave our guest all by himself to sulk.”

There's a beat where Daniel says nothing, his eyes fixed on Lando’s own, which stare back, unwavering. The smirk doesn’t fade, and Daniel notices how it spreads to Lando's eyes, how he stares back like a trickster, taunting, teasing.

A sharp inhale as he looks away, “So, you’re a bit of a dick, hm?”

Lando giggles, taking a sip of his drink and fiddling with the straw, “Only when I don’t know you”

“Planning to get to know me?

“Not before another drink” and it’s then that Daniel notices the concoction in Lando's glass, a dark red and orange liquid swirling and swishing as Lando twirls the straw around.

“God, what are you even drinking?”

Lando's eyebrows rise as he blushes, a smile (bashful now, Daniel thinks, fascinatingly bashful) drawing itself across his features. He takes a sip and pretends to really be evaluating it, his inexperience showing as he replies “Dunno really.” a further sip, where he swishes it around in his mouth like he’s at a wine tasting, an impression which has Daniel doubled over laughing, unsure if Lando's really that funny or if the three g&ts have finally had their effect.

When he swallows, Lando wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, lips turning a plush red as he adds, “I just let Carlos order for me usually.”

Daniel swipes the tear away from his eye, trying not to look too much like a smitten schoolgirl finally talking to her crush, “God i’ve got to teach you about actually good drinks some time,” his smile is honest here, bright and luminous, “Honestly i’ll bartend at the villa, free of charge.”

And Lando only laughs at the offer, his head thrown back and eyes screwed shut.

Daniel thinks that, at least as far as he can remember, he’s never seen a boy quite this beautiful.

[alyjojo]

November 🕷️ 2024 Monthly - Capricorn

Preshuffle: You’re giving up on something, white flag 🏳️, because you have to. It’s something you can’t handle or manage anymore, it’s “too much” and in order to continue growing it’s gotta be cut off ⚖️

Meditation: I’m seeing a tree 🌳 with a large dead limb that needs to be removed because it’s either killing the tree or it’s a potential hazard or danger ⚠️ to hurt someone if it falls off on its own in a storm or something. For someone that could be literal, maybe check for hazardous tree limbs around you. This could also be describing a surgery for someone.

Main energy: 2 Pentacles rev

Aw, Cap 🤗 You’re going through it. Honey Adams is mirroring the surgery, someone has a family member they’re worried about, or this is you, and before even getting into the reading I asked how the surgery will go: 6 Wands. Success! There is not one downside to this card, it’s upright, celebratory and a WIN 🏆

Besides and also including that story, 2 Pentacles rev is signing up for 50 things and realizing you can really only manage like 30, you’ve got your fingers in so many pies 🥧 that they’re all a different color, and you’ve dropped a few, trying to carry them all at once. Your energy, but it’s imbalanced. I’m seeing someone carry in 50 bags of groceries too, you could be the type to do things ALL AT ONCE, for practicality purposes. It’s wearing you down though. Some of you are waiting for help from an outside party, especially where a sick or elderly family member may be concerned. Like a nurse, you need help.

What’s going on in November:

Wheel of Fortune rev feels like a difficult cycle, could be karmic in nature especially with the literal life cycle of those around you, especially with a family member you’ve been taking care of - for those that resonate. You’ve been waiting for this struggle to end, to be set free of the burdens you carry, because it’s a lot to bear, and some of you have waited a long time. Or it feels like a long time, especially if you’re waiting on something; results, news, the relief for the next shift - for some it’s just a rough couple of days at work that’s liable to make you question whether you should just walk out.

9 Wands is hurt, being wounded, it could show the literal healing of a wound for someone. It’s causing you to be held back from what you really want - 9 Cups. I’m getting another story, if you’re in the doghouse for messing around, clubbing, flirting, commenting someone’s picture online idk - then a romantic partner may have let you go because fk that - and you’re trying to reconcile. You just want the burden to end, and may be apologizing. Spirit is prodding me to say the next part too, like a kid you told can have ice cream, I just haven’t been able to fit it in with the surgery parts - trying to be sensitive here mate 🙃 Outside of that - when the reading started, I immediately started hearing Ariana Grande’s “Just Like Magic” 🪄 when she’s singing about all her daily activities (2 Pentacles upright) and how she just flawlessly manifests and attracts what she wants - that’s for you 🧡 with this Oracle showing you how to cleanse your energy, more or less, or that of others, it works all around. Sage being here too could be literal, sage your home and cleanse your energy, you could have some kind of lingering spiritual ick or something around you that’s gotta go 💯 It can’t hurt, and I’ve never gotten that message for anyone before so it’s not like Spirit just hands that out, there’s a reason. Clean the ick around you, whatever that is, literal or spiritual. Some of you just need a cleaner working space to feel lighter inside, regardless of what you’re doing.

Ace of Wands clarifying 9 Cups 😆 if you’re in relationship trouble, you only wanna fix it when you get…turned on, or they do, and that doesn’t help the situation because nothing that’s an issue is addressed or handled, it’s very superficial and selfish in nature, could be who you’re dealing with /switch. If not that then you’re just inspired and ready for a new beginning outside of this heavy, burdensome, incredibly stressful time you’ve been going through. Tag in, Cap is done, they just want to go have some fun and live their life now. Maybe date. If you’ve been taking care of a family member full-time, it’s been in the way of your desire for a new partner or any dating life.

10 Wands rev is releasing the burden, it’s connected to unfinished business because no one is communicating. No talk, no fun. No apology, piss off, that’s the energy for some. Others are waiting on some kind of news or progress, the person covering their shift or a nurse, whatever helps them release the pressure of the 50 things they’re carrying on their back…10 Wands upright, you’re going to drop it all if it doesn’t happen soon. Page of Cups shows that it will, this is a card of apologies, asking someone on a date, cute crush sort of flirting, and overall good news for anyone waiting on news. If you’re on a dating site, you’re going to get a message. If you like someone and try to be sweet, you’re going to get a positive response. If you ask someone out, they like you too. Or the nurse IS coming, whatever you’re waiting on will happen, but some of you may need to say something to get it moving or at least in the way that you want to 🙏 But that’s okay because Cap is fucking magical this month - whether you know it or not ✨ Pluto will be leaving your sign for good halfway through the month. No more retrogrades. 20 years (ish) in the bank. It’s over, you did it 🏆

Signs you may be dealing with:

Heavy Sagittarius, Pisces, Capricorn & Leo

Oracle: ✨

Plant silver columns of light around everyone who is negative. You will see the world get brighter.

We enter into November as:

Sage 🧙🏼‍♂️

“Wisdom...is knowing the difference between risk, and stupidity.”

It is time to listen to what others are telling you. Is there some wise counsel that you have sought, only to ignore it? Are you trying to do things all by yourself? A solution to your problems may come from those more experienced than yourself. Trust that whomever you think to ask will be the right person. Sage can also indicate a time of surrendering what you have no control over. Wisdom only comes from experience, and we all have challenges because we need the lessons they provide. Remember to stay in today, no jumping ahead. This is an opportunity to start over and clean out the old, it’s the perfect time to do it. Rejoice! You are walking a path of Great Spirits 🍃

What is to be learned in November:

Honey Adams 🍯

“I will attract to you whatever you desire, if you give up your desires.”

Are you seeing your life as it really is, or how you’d like it to be? Are you wishing things in your life could be different? Honey reminds us that what we create is in fact what we want. So often we wish that things could be different rather than accept that this is how it is. Honey tells you to make the most of your present situation.

Giving does not mean compromising who you are. Being a giving person means showing up with as much honesty and fairness as you can in any situation. This is a strong reminder to stop complaining, roll up your sleeves and get the job done. If you feel that are are being treated unjustly, you must act “just” yourself. The indication is that you need to give up what you think you deserve and start being of service. What any of us receive is up to Spirit.

Orange may be a lucky color 🧡

[your-reference-here]

Okay, I know I already reblogged this, but my brain has been absolutely gnawing on this AU's possibilities so I had to write some of my ideas down.

Boq is definitely the DM. He seems like the kind of guy who would have gotten into the game back home and then brought it to Shiz. He tries for weeks to get Galinda to play, but it's not until he mentions it to Nessa, who then mentions it to Elphaba, who THEN mentions it to Galinda that a game comes together. Fiyero tags along too because he's curious...or at least that's what he says. It's not until they actually arrive at their session zero character creation that he rolls up with a fully prepared character sheet and they all realize "oh this guy knows this game."

Here's what I think everyone decides to play:

Galinda = College of Glamour Bard. I put this in my original reblog and I'm sticking with that. The whole subclass just feels like it was made for her.

Elphaba = Wild Magic Sorcerer. I was torn on whether Wild Magic or Divine Soul would be her subclass, but thinking it over more I've decided to say fuck it, give her the Wild Magic Sorcerer build because it fits thematically and because its shenanigans are fun. In universe, my excuse is Boq suggested choosing options that they could relate to as a first time player, so there you go.

Nessa = Order Domain Cleric. In my head, Boq mentions that cleric is his favorite class, so Nessa decides to explore those options. Something about the Order Domain just speaks to her...maybe it's the desire for some control over her own life, maybe it's a dark foreshadow of who she will become later. But who's looking into it that deeply?

Fiyero = Cavalier Fighter. He just wants to kick ass on a horse. It's also a nice way to uphold a "knight in shining armor" appearance for his peers. Galinda loves it, while Elphaba just rolls her eyes and calls him out for being a horse boy.

The first game is a simple fetch quest that quickly goes off the rails. This isn't unusual as far as D&D goes, but it does escalate to a loud enough volume that the crew gets kicked out of the library and has to find another spot to play. This could be a number of places, but I like to think Doctor Dillamond is kind enough to allow them access to his classroom, mostly to keep them all out of trouble and because of his soft spot for Elphaba (he's happy to see her making friends and joining in whatever this strange social club is). His only request is that whatever mess they make is cleaned up before the first class the following day. It's very close once or twice.

Now, in terms of how our cast actually are as players...

Galinda is the confused enthusiast who has no idea what she's doing but is going to do everything with an air of exaggerated flair. This results in her being the unintentional button pusher/trap trigger-er/the one the party is constantly yelling "NO!" at a second too late. Somehow, she always manages to pull through whatever mess she is in or has gotten the entire party in, mostly because she's able to gaslight, gatekeep, girlboss everyone else, including the DM, on a whim.

Elphaba is a born rules lawyer who comes to the game having memorized all her spells and abilities, only to find herself consistently exasperated by Galinda's choices and/or fighting with Fiyero who knows the game so well that he's found countless loopholes to exploit. She does end up having fun but hoo boy does she come close to magically throwing a book at someone's head on multiple occasions.

Fiyero is just vibing and, though he won't admit it out loud, is genuinely having a good time with these people and it's the happiest he's been in a long time.

Nessa is the only one trying to keep the party on track with the plot for Boq's sake, who is beginning to question bringing this particular group of people together.

UPDATE: I just saw the spellbook again in the artwork and was like "shit that's really a wizard thing to have a spellbook" and then I remembered the beauty of the multi-class, so my solution is that Elphaba decides to multi-class later on into a School of Transmutation Wizard.

dnd au request

[thefilmsofgasparnoe]

Irreversible is Gaspar Noe's second feature film is probably his most iconic, controversial, and my personal favorite out of his filmography. The talk of the town at the Cannes film festival, this film was initially polarizing but garnered much more critical praise that I think it deserves as the years went on. It depicts one night in the lives of three individuals. Alex, her boyfriend Marcus, and her ex boyfriend Pierre as the three of them attend a party together and discuss the past and what could have been in Pierre and Alex's relationship. "What could have been done" being a huge thematic idea in the film. As Marcus gets out of hand to the dismay of Alex, she leaves the party where she is then brutally raped in the streets. Marcus and Pierre soon find out and through the rest of the night try to find her rapist eventually leading them to a gay club known as "The Rectum" where Marcus is injured and Pierre kills someone who he thinks is the rapist but is actually not. Despite sounding like I just spoiled the whole film, it is kind of a film that is impossible to spoil the experience of. The description I just gave is what the film is in chronological order. The film is actually told in reverse order starting from the killing and going up from there. This prevents the film from being exploitative as Roger Ebert eloquently put in his review of the film as one of the people championing the film at the time of it's release he said: "Now consider what happens if you reverse the chronology, so that the film begins with shots of the body being removed from the night club and tracks back through time to the warm and playful romance of the bedroom scenes. There are several ways in which this technique produces a fundamentally different film. The film doesn’t build up to violence and sex as its payoff, as pornography would. It begins with its two violent scenes, showing us the very worst immediately and then tracking back into lives that are about to be forever altered." The film subverts typically chronology purposefully by showing what would be a supposed "payoff" first and showing the lives of the characters before. And as I mentioned earlier, the theme of "What could have been done" is ever more prevalent in this second half of the film where it is just watching Marcus, Alex, and Pierre at the party and observing the small things they do that foreshadow and could have easily been prevented to stop this horrific rape from happening. The film was somewhat appreciated during it's time for its nauseating and unique camera movement which also properly immerses you in the first half of the films chaos but was written off as exploitative at the time and only the rare critic like Roger Ebert seemed to understand the films intentions. But in more recent years the films reputation has strengthen significantly and even a version of the film shown in chronological order (even though I've never seen it and never will cause I feel it just completely ruins what the entire film was going for) was made in 2019 to critical appraisal. Irreversible is just another example of a film which was incredibly ahead of it's time and one that people in 2002 were not ready to see for it's blunt and direct way of portraying graphic and sexual violence and forcing the viewers to confront reality on the little things they could do to stop horrific things from happening.

Roger Ebert Review: https://www.rogerebert.com/reviews/irreversible-2003

Gaspar Noe on Irreversible in chronological order:

[soysaucevictim]

“it feels like my brain (was floating in a fishtank)”

(See warnings/summary on Ao3.)

[ Prologue/Start ] [ Previous ]

Chapter 4: Circuits of The Imagination

Vee had to work and Feed himself.

Ellis was staying in his study.

Janus always had “affairs” to attend to.

Roman said he dropped Remus off at Huntington Beach, again. Roman said he was going to a climbing gym to Feed, after that.

Vic was having a long shift at the zoo.

Carrie had the weekend off, so it was just her, Patton, and the help in Janus’s estate. She was trying to distract herself from the Dream, reading over technical manuals. She hated having new insight on what had to be going on in Steve’s mind, for who knew how long. To take his perspective as he nearly tore her family apart.

Patton, having caught up with his homeschooling, walked up to her, “Mrs. Espinoza?”

“Hm?”

“Are you feeling sad?”

“… I suppose.”

“Want to do something fun with me?”

“What would you suggest?”

“Can we go to the fair place?”

“Which one?”

“The one with the princesses and knights!”

She smiled, “Sure, let me just get ready for that, then.”

Patton grinning widely made her heart melt.

-

Remus was back at the beach, he immediately tried to swim again. It didn’t last very long, he felt his Horror was still sluggish after that meal from the yacht party. He had to swim more like a human, needing to actually hold his breath and he wasn’t as quick in the water. It wasn’t as fun.

So, he pouted at the shore line, still soothed by the waves.

After a while sitting there, Remus noticed Cass approaching him once more.

“You look particularly sullen this afternoon.”

Remus flopped backwards onto the sand, “It’s boring when FUN TIMES doesn’t want out.”

“Say, how familiar are you with your capabilities?”

“I’ve only known I was a Beast for like, a little over a year? Sooo…”

“Not much?”

“What? No! Well, kind of?”

“Hmm?”

Remus hesitated but told them about some of the things he did to Steve. He started with how he reached into the guy's mind to plant a potent Nightmare.

-

The eldritch form of his Horror loomed over the “Hero”. His uncountable eyes stared deeply into the puny thing, floating in the water and struggling to hold his breath. Threatening, inhuman noises resonated from his entire being. Remus beheld him, snaking the tip of one of his many tentacles into Steve’s mouth. The nuisance’s delicious fear was drowned out by knowing Roman could be d-

-

Remus shook his head and chose not to mention the part about his brother.

“Let’s just say that could’ve happened in much better circumstances.”

He wondered about discussing Horrorspawn. Jude was really fun to have around. It was like having some weird pet-child-thing that’s also sort of you floating around. When its time ran out and came apart, he was a little sad. It bitter-sweetly reminded him of what it felt like having a whole soul again. He held back on that note.

“So, where would you like to go, to rouse you?”

Remus wasn’t sure, he didn’t have nearly as much experience with this side of being a Beast. He assumed he’d have to single out someone specific. He thought about returning to Edison’s AutoMart or Nemeseian Blessings Yacht Club.

“Can we flip a coin?”

-

It was quite a car ride over to the Renaissance Fair grounds, but Carrie didn’t mind humoring Patton along his wandering babble. Occasionally, perhaps more than her own kids at this age, he would grow quiet.

The child really grabbed at every sense he could. The colors, textures and patterns on the staff’s garb – rich, vibrant, and fanciful. He listened to harpists, flutists, and singers perform music – adoring their charisma and showmanship. He smelled all the delicious food everywhere and wanted to try nearly everything. 

His vocabulary didn’t have such words, but Carrie could appreciate the boundless enthusiasm.

Soon enough they sat down for lunch, Carrie ordering them a couple bread bowls. Patton was having some chicken noodle soup and she helped herself to broccoli cheddar. She was amused with him scrunching his nose at the broccoli part.

She let him take the lead, and didn’t mind letting that continue. As they nearly finished their food, he interrupted her by asking, “Miss-uss Espinoza, where d’you wanna go now?”

She looked around for a few moments. She found herself transfixed by a specific pair of joined stands: a bowyer and blacksmith. The Dream reminded her of what she wielded in her nightmares, her fingers itching. She didn’t want a repeat of the Rich situation.

“Hmmm, oh. I’d like to see those folks’ wares.”

He nodded and followed her over there.

The craftsmen immediately looked at her strangely, as she approached. She wasn’t sure who to greet first, the smith chuckled, “Wherefore holla thither, maiden! Mine own name is Giles, what doth thee desire?”

The bowyer rolled her eyes, “You can call me Tasha. As you can probably tell, I fashion the bow components around these parts. Let me know if anything catches your eye.”

Carrie was fast in saying, somewhat flushed about Tasha’s imposing and attractive figure, “Name’s Carrie. C-can I have a crossbow, Tasha?”

Tasha raised an eyebrow, “Do you know how to use one, ma’am?”

Carrie straightened up, “Well, I’ve had some firearms training, when I was in the Air Force. But-.”

Her throat closed up, she didn’t want to touch a gun, but she needed this.

Tasha shrugged, “You’re in luck, I have something ready to go behind the bench.”

Tasha was quick to start giving her some pointers and running down the thing’s specifications, “Normally, this would cost you a couple grand, but we can negotiate a generous discount on it. You can also have a quiver of bolts on the house. I highly recommend you practice on the range while you’re here.”

Carrie glanced around, “Do you normally do this for customers?”

Tasha smiled at her, “I- we know-”

Giles bellowed cheerily, “Tasha, art thee trying to steal business hence from me? Shame on thee!”

Tasha had a look of endearment, “Honey, please. You take all this far too seriously.”

“Yet, thee did marry me!”

Carrie was entertained by this banter, it did make her think of Vic’s own charm.

Giles turned to face her, “Art thee eke interest'd in one of mine own fine blades, as well?”

“This might sound weirdly specific, but do you have anything like a rapier?”

“Alas, an estoc is the closest thing I has't to eft. I wilt asketh something about these purchases.  Art thee planning on most wondrous deeds, slaying the savage beasts of this realm?”

That froze her a moment, she felt something in these two. They weren’t Beasts but- she whispered to them, “A-are you two Heroes?”

Giles sobered, hushed and out of character, “Yes. We are. I warn you, if you abuse our courtesy, you’ll regret it.”

Tasha simply said, “We have our ways.”

Carrie nodded, “T-trust me. I just want to protect- protect-”

She looked around to see Patton had wandered off.

She panicked as she completed her transaction and gathered everything up. Estoc sheathed at her belt, the crossbow and ammunition in their cases.  The craftsmen gave her an understanding look, “If anyone asks, you’re just a family friend of ours.”

She had to find him.

-

Remus was back in Cass’s car.

The coin flip had Remus gleefully telling Cass about how he upturned a certain used car dealership before they met. He wondered if the business recovered after that mess, after seeing the news coverage on it.

Remus mentioned, “I don’t know WHAT you did back at the yacht club, but I’m so looking forward to seeing how the BOTH of us can go rile them up.”

Cass recited a few more verses in response:

“Who hath woe? Who hath sorrow? Who hath contentions? Who hath babbling? Who hath wounds without cause? Who hath redness of eyes?

They that tarry long at wine, they that go to seek mixed wine.”

Remus snorted, “Must’ve been some good shit.”

“You could say that.”

There was silence so Remus fiddled with the radio, Cass didn’t seem to care about being asked. Remus’s tastes were eclectic, but he was in the mood for the station that played a lot of indie rock.

And if you leave here, you leave me broken, shattered I lie I'm just a crosshair, I'm just a shot, then we can die

They had some luck catching strings of green lights heading deeper into Santa Ana. Cass was taking the scenic route to get there.

“Which of the Edisons do you think will be the most... appreciative of our services?”

“I guess the guy with the BlackBerry?”

“Duly noted.”

I know that starting over's not what life's about But my thoughts were so loud I couldn't hear my mouth My thoughts were so loud-

“Oh, and I’ve been meaning to ask if you can tell me more about yourself?”

“Well, I-”

Their conversation was cut short by one garishly hot pink SUV careening through the intersection at their side.

Before he knew it, Remus lost consciousness with an unbearably loud crash.

- 

After some frantic scanning, Carrie saw Patton again, across the lane through the stands.

One moment, he was giggling and clapping at a singing lute player. The other, his attention taken by a stranger with a camera, crouching down and tapping his shoulder. This stranger seemed so friendly, but she felt the Dream’s whispers kicking up on approach.

Said stranger had Patton following her.

Carrie started running toward them, fearing for the child. 

Alerted, the stranger gripped his arm far too tightly, making him whine in pain as they sped away from Carrie. The Dream was nearly screaming at her, “You know what she is, kill her. Kill. Her. KILL HER!”

She shook her head, thinking, “I can’t, not here! I just need to protect my- the child.”

She still gripped the estoc, not caring what others would think, hoping to corner the stranger.

They were running toward the park side of the venue, where the attendees grew sparse. Carrie was grateful when they finally started to slow down. It was clear the Beast had more stamina than the child, since Patton had to stop and catch his breath a few times. Her angry yanking and dragging him along only made so much progress.

Eventually, Carrie closed the distance, unsheathed her estoc, and pointed it at the kidnapper, “Let. Him. Go.”

Carrie noticed a strangely dull look in Patton as he stared expectantly at the Beast.

“Who might you be?”

Carrie practically growled, inching closer to the Beast, “What does it matter?”

“Why? I’m this ever so precious child’s mother!”

Carrie glanced at the two of them, not seeing any resemblance whatsoever. A rational part of her mind could drum up plausible reasons, but, “I don’t believe you.”

The Beast crouched in front of Patton, cradling his face to look at her, “Pattycake, sweetie. You believe me right?”

Patton hummed, “I-”

Carrie thrust the estoc closer, nearly puncturing her neck.

The Beast pulled her hands away from Patton, startled. Her gaze still went back to the child, “O-okay, I’m just his auntie Roxie! Do you remember that time-”

Carrie broke, “I will find you and turn you into a PIN CUSHION, if you so much as TOUCH that child OR ANY other. And I will RELISH it.”

A quiet part of Carrie was disturbed about the notion, drowned out by the Dream beckoning her forward. Suddenly Roxie’s expression dropped and she leapt away from Patton, wearing the same terror Rich did. Roxie stammered, “P-please, I-I need my family… I-I need…”

“DON’T make me kill you where you stand, fiend.”

Carrie was fighting the beckoning urge to destroy her utterly. The only thing resisting that was not wanting Patton to witness it.

“A-alright, alright. F-fine. D-don’t kill me. I’ll-I’ll get out of your hair…”

Roxie scrambled away from them, quickly getting far enough to have the Dream grow quiet again.

Carrie looked down to Patton, knelt to rest her hands on his shoulders, “Kiddo, a-are you alright?”

Patton seemed to shake out of the daze, wincing about the bruising on his arm, “She did something. Everything got so quiet, I-I could only hear her voice. I was scared and I couldn’t- couldn’t-”

Patton broke into tears and clung to her, she held him comfortingly, “Shhh, I won’t let this happen to you ever again. Not under my watch. You’re safe, now.”

“I wanna go home.”

“I understand. Let’s go, then.”

-

It was a miracle that the SUV didn’t hit square on Cass’s car, but toward the rear half of the sedan. It was the driver’s side too, narrowly avoiding a direct hit to Cass and barely dampened some of the force on Remus.

As all the airbags deployed, Cass fish-tailed to their left and came to a screeching halt. In moments, both vehicles had to’ve slammed the brakes.

Remus stirred moments after that. He was dizzy and nauseous, his vision swimming between blinks. He slurred, confused and disoriented, “W-what happened?”

Cass was surprisingly more alert, eyeing the other vehicle.

Remus thought, “Oh yeah, we got hit, didn’t we?”

Cass looked back at Remus, “Be careful, don’t move.”

Remus swore he was tasting blood. It took a lot of energy just to try to focus on his surroundings. He wondered if he was going to die.

Cass summoned some unearthly strength ramming open the partially caved in door and stepped out to confront the other driver. The SUV wasn’t nearly as crumpled up as the sedan, but she really shouldn’t have been able to walk out of this like she did.

As she stepped toward their vehicle and the airbags started to deflate, Remus vaguely recognized her from somewhere. Thinking made his head hurt. Did he just see a holster on her? Keeping his eyes open for a very long time hurt.

Cass got in between her and Remus, “Oh, it’s a relief that you were alright after that. Shall we exchange insurance information and settle this amicably?”

Cass sounded so calm, and so did the other driver, almost sweet-sounding, “I do apologize, Father. Oh! It seems you had a passenger, is he quite alright?”

“I will call for help, after we’ve done this formality. You may call me Cass, for now.”

She craned her neck around to see Remus more closely, her fake smile trembled slightly, glancing back to Cass, “Oh, you can just call me Di, and-”

Remus moaned, “… that… name…?”

Her eye started twitching, ever so slightly, “Gosh, is that one of those… day laborers?”

Remus thought some less-than savory things about that, but he still listened to Cass.

“Child, what does that have to do with-”

She shoved Cass aside and stared at Remus with a creepy, subdued smile, “Ah, I knew the vermin behind ruining my beloved hubby’s big day was around here somewhere. I was looking EVERYWHERE, for you! This can’t stand, you see?”

Remus swallowed some more blood, feeling a familiar wrongness about her.

Cass was stern, “You’re over the line.”

“And you’re going to regret intervening on my MISSION.”

She stepped back and the space in front of her rippled. Remus’s guts twisted, peering into the gate. It was a familiar deep sea crevasse, shimmering in a tiny crack in reality. He feared what she would do if she got inside his Lair, but couldn’t make himself move or think to stop her.

She was about to enter it before Cass yanked her away, “I know the game you’re playing here, but I will not let one of my charges be harmed by one such as yourself.”

In between Remus’s blinks, Cass turned into something incomprehensible in his stupor.

Diane’s eyes became saucers, “W-what ARE y-!?”

Cass wrapped something around her neck and lifted her up. She desperately tried clawing herself free. The mass was somehow both solid enough to squeeze the life out of her, but not enough for her hands to find any purchase.

Cass’s voice seemed to reverberate from their entire body, distorted, yet serene:

“A good man takes care of his animals. But even the kindest acts of the wicked are cruel.”

She gagged and fought uselessly, before going slack in their grip.

The intense emotions that wafted from her had quieted, as Cass dropped her unceremoniously. Remus wasn’t even sure if Cass was looking at him, until they shifted back to their “human” form.

Cass swiftly tapped something on their phone, “Yes, Emergency? I’m over at… I just witnessed a car accident. Someone is badly injured. Please, you have to-!”

Cass crushed the device in front of Remus and told him, “Don’t tell them anything.”

Remus slurred, “¿Quiiién? ”

He couldn’t keep his eyes open. The question went unanswered.

The last things he heard was the sound of something being dragged along, doors opening and closing, and a car driving away.

He felt an overwhelming tiredness cloaking him from there.

-

It was a long and quiet car ride back to the estate for Carrie and Patton.

She grimaced whenever she glanced at the kid favoring his injured arm. She muttered to him once, “I’m sure Vic can help you feel a little better. I’m sorry-”

Patton smiled at her despite the wincing, “’sokay. She-”

He gulped, Carrie nodded, “No. It was my responsibility to make sure that didn’t happen.”

“You’re sad again.”

Carrie was mentally repeating to herself that this wasn’t going to happen again.

Patton carefully touched her arm as she drove, “I know you care about me, Miss-us Espinoza.”

She smiled a little and was caught off guard by him saying, “It’s like Vee says, ‘shit happens and then you die’.”

She sputtered at that, “Young man, language!”

Patton gave an all-too innocent shrug.

When they arrived, Vee was there and clearly restless. Patton was quick to run to him for a hug. Vee was smiling until he saw the subtly darkening bruise on his brother’s arm. The older brother was glaring daggers at Carrie immediately.

“On your life, you BETTER not’ve laid a hand on him.”

Carrie waved her hands in placation, “Patton just asked me to take him to the-”

Patton supported her, “The Renaissance fair, Vee! It was a lot of fun!”

Vee was snarling, Carrie knew it was about her but he was facing Patton, “Fun? Why are you HURT.”

He then turned to Carrie, “And why are you armed to the TEETH now!?”

Patton wasn’t fazed, “She scared off a bad lady. Who did something weird to my head, I think?”

Vee desisted, barely, “Bad. Lady?”

“She was kind of like you and Mama Jannie – but… scary?”

Vee looked almost insulted a moment, Carrie would’ve snorted if the tension wasn’t so thick.

The older brother looked at her, cautiously glancing at her weapons, “Did you kill her?”

“No. I think I found something that she feared? Or…”

Vee went rigid, “You inflicted that on her.”

She retreated for a moment, “I-I had to do something!”

Vee slackened and sighed, “I don’t smell any new blood on you. I don’t really see that kind of restraint. Ever. In people like you.”

Patton looked up at Vee and smiled encouragingly, “It was amazing, V-!”

Vee seemed to melt, “Look. Maybe I should tell you m-”

Carrie’s phone buzzed. She hesitated a moment, but her gut told her to answer it.

“We’re with the Providence Saint Anne Hospital, is this Carrie Espinoza?”

“Speaking.”

“Are you Remus Espinoza’s mother?”

Carrie felt a cold pit settle in her stomach, “Yes, why?”

“He was in an accident and admitted to our care a few hours ago. His condition is stable but still being monitored. We have already contacted your husband, will the two of you be available to come here to see him?”

“Y-yes, of course! I can go right now. A-and I’ll try to get his brother there too.”

“Okay, do you have something to write down the phone and room numbers?”

She shakily pulled out a notepad and pen from her bag and jotted everything down before the call ended. Patton tugged at her pant leg, “Is Remus okay?”

Vee seemed caught off guard and concerned. She briefly wondered if it was for her.

Carrie simply said to the two of them, “I can only hope so.”

-

“Thank you for giving us some more detailed history to add to Remus’s charts, Mr. And Mrs. Espinoza.”

Carrie, Vic, and Roman stood near Remus’s room, talking with his doctor.

Vic asked, “How is he?”

The doctor answered, “Remus experienced some whiplash injuries and a concussion from a side-on impact. Given some of his test scores, we just ordered a CT scan and would like to hold him for a couple days.”

Carrie asked, “What happened?”

The doctor glanced at some charts before answering, “The first responders were admittedly puzzled by it. It looked like a hit and run, both drivers involved weren’t on the scene. And the vehicle your son was found in was registered to… an out of state missing person. You might get more information from the police department on that.”

Roman fidgeted, “Is he going to be okay? Can we see him?”

“We still have to wait a little bit to be certain, but Remus appears to be in better shape than expected. But, yes, take it easy with him. We don’t want to-”

Remus shouted from his room, “I can hear you!… ow.”

They filed in quietly and orderly.

Vic held the hand that didn’t have an IV in it and ruffled Remus’s hair, “Oh, mijo. What have you gotten yourself into?”

Remus winced in thought before shrugging, “I… don’t remember?”

Carrie’s demeanor softened, “Easy, Rejoe. You can tell us when you do.”

-

The moon was waxing outside.

Remus didn’t remember when he last fell asleep. Or if he had passed out.

He was lying in a hospital bed, confused why he was there a moment, before his senses caught up. He was told not to strain himself physically or mentally. As much of a contrarian he liked to be, when he tried to claw at what happened in the car accident his headache flared up.

Teeth. He remembered seeing too many of them. But nothing coherent to connect with it- it was like a nightmare. But then, Remus knew he couldn’t have those anymore. 

He regretted immediately his impulse to shake his head to clear it. All he got from that was an intense dizzy spell. He laid back, to quell the predictable nausea, and huffed, “This sucks ass.”

It was a small miracle he didn’t break anything else in the crash, that’s what the nurses said to him, anyways. Remus tended to avoid that growing up – he guessed being an actual monster just made him weirdly flexible.

His bed was pretty close to the window.

When he turned to face it one of the several times hoping for the scenery to change faster - Cass showed up, turned back to him and looked outside. Cass simply said, almost embarrassed, “I’m sorry you had to see that.”

“Huh?”

In a few more blinks, Cass was gone.

When asked, the nurse told him his last visitors were hospital staff and family, no one else.

-

@milktea531 @r0sethrills

Feel free to ask to be on a tag list, if you wish!

(I’ll probably tag every other cross-post.)

-

[ Next ]

[guardapelo]

I made a horror playlist if anyone’s insterested 🤡🪓🧿🩸

[102ki]

ruri was trying hard not to let it show on her face but megu knew she was worrying about whether her prince outfit suited her, so megu told her "youre the coolest person in the world, ruri-chan!"

ruri had practised a lot for the party day, and she was even kinder than she normally is, and it made megu feel like a real princess. it must have been a lot of pressure to be escorting such a cute, charming, perfect princess ♡

megumi wants everyone in the whole world to see how cute ruri-chan is but... she wants to be the only one who knows how cool she can be

they thought a lot about their outfits, combining their traditions with the current dollche with kozu and megu's feelings. its amazing how sayaka can wear something like this, when she thought she suited cute soft outfits

saya held out her hand and then laughed and asked if it was too much. it wasnt; saya has always been leading tsuzuri by the hand

tsuzuri talked to kozu and megu. she didnt think the three of them would ever be able to laugh like this again. they all had different hurts, and even if they shared them they wouldnt have been able to do anything. but now everyone has someone to hold their hand!

the way kozu and megu laugh now make tsuzuri wonder if they were like that before. they must have changed. she changed too when she made contact with that blue sparkle [how tsuzuri described sayaka]. just being asked "shall we go?" made her hands shake. and then they stopped

party kozue: a situation that every girl dreams of. a girl finding you alone in the crowd and taking your hand. its strange... she isnt usually this reliable, and she easily gets tired during practice, but when it really matters her shine is dazzling. i always thought i had to lead that girl, but i wonder if i may just give her my hand and let her take care of me

party kozue: if i hadnt met her, what would i be doing now? i cant imagine finding anybody else i could be cerise bouquet with. in that case, even if tsuzuri found sayaka-san and megumi started mirakura park with rurino-san, im sure id be alone. theres no misconceptions about my feelings about winning love live, but i dont think being a school idol has ever been as fun as it is now. on the other hand, i may have been worrying every day about whether im allowed to enjoy myself this much. yes, what if i hadnt met her? the happier i am now the more i think about the time i was unhappy. its surely because of my nature. so for now, please let me see this kind dream, oh wonderful school idol-san who will take my hand

party kozue additional voice lines: tonight, by your side; yes, gladly!; what a romantic night!

[previous card lines i didnt type up]

grace phrase kozue: in order to find new members she and tsuzuri decided to have a live. they worked hard through spring break to prepare for it and she did her best so that somebody might look at her and think she looked good

suisai sekai kozue: if she needs help with costumes she does go to the fashion club and ask. since hasunosora has a long tradition of arts there are lots of students she can turn to

casual clothes kaho: growing up her mom bought all her clothes online since there werent any shops around so shes really happy to be able to change into so many outfits now

casual clothes kozue: she only tends to wear clothes in muted colours. when she went shopping with everyone someone suggested she wear bolder designs which she didnt understand

its a dreaming world megumi: she finishes a stream before thinking about how kozue and tsuzuri working hard to move forward and whether she'll still be stuck streaming forever. if only ruri-chan would come back... she thinks about the live she'd do with ruri if she were here, and then wonders if she could reach the stars with all the hypotheticals she's dreamed up

sparkly spot tsuzuri: while doing a rubiks cube she thinks that itll all be over when she matches all the colours, so maybe she doesnt want to do that

kunpuu no shirabe kaho: training every day is tough but its okay since kozue-senpai is watching over her! when she felt she couldnt do anymore she'd wait until she did it properly! wait... thats kind of oni-like

kunpuu no shirabe kozue: when kaho saw the new outfit designs in the club room she came and hugged her (ie the card art)

rose garden kozue: when she was a child she went to shizuoka with her family to pick tea leaves. the finished tea had a young, fun flavour. just like kaho now. she compares school idols to tea leaves due to how they develop different qualities over time and says she wants to create a performance made up of a blend of herself and kaho that tea tasters will love

rose garden tsuzuri: it seems tsuzuri didnt really know to properly warm up before sayaka arrived?

tragic drops sayaka: not only was she watching tsuzuri's stream she was in the comments trying to get her to stay on topic lmao

tsukimakase sayaka: she doesnt hate the smell of rain but thats different to liking rain itself

ameagari street kaho: she likes the rain. during her childhood when she wasnt allowed to go outside she'd feel lonely by herself but on rainy days her younger sisters would have to stay in and she could play with them. plus she likes reading while listening to the rain noises

ameagari street kozue: she says tsuzuri has the profile of an antique doll. she feels she is like a work of art with a radiant aura

fortune movie kozue: it suddenly began raining and while she normally would have turned back and found shelter, kaho's eyes were shining and they werent far from the dorms so she decided to run there with her

ameagari street sayaka: being able to stand by tsuzuri is rewarding but its bothersome that they each want the same thing out of each other. that is, by fulfilling tsuzuri's wish she is fulfilling her own instead of repaying her for fulfilling sayaka's wish

penguin ice kozue: she and tsuzuri are on different paths now but it doesnt feel lonely. shes inspired by and can do her best because of her and thinks its the same vice versa. but sometimes she does want to stay up and show her school idol videos like before. that tsuzuri showed sayaka the same video she had shown her made her really happy

penguin ice sayaka: if she doesnt let tsuzuri give her headpats she'll get sad... but it will mess up her hair...

asagao reijou kozue: she tried hard and called rurino by her given name from the beginning like everyone else. rurino-san

genyou yakou kaho: "im not alone. kozue-senpai is beside me, and it gives me courage to know that we can run anywhere together no matter how dark it is"

genyou yakou kozue: "past and present, and the present and the future. the road continues. but its difficult to see whats ahead on a dark road, and you need courage to make a step forward. but its alright. im not alone"

mirage voyage sayaka: she went out shopping with everyone after ruri suggested it. it was a mess but it was fun. she realised when caught in kaho and ruri's momentum that they wouldnt stop unless she made it happen. tsuzuri would ride the momentum probably in the wrong direction, and kozue would laugh and give off the idea that if she stopped she'd lose. is that how her school life will be from now on? well, thats okay

newcomer ruri: people who dont eat out by themselves are like heroes to ruri. in the sense that theyre always in a "party" and that theyre cool. people always ask if she gets nervous when she eats by herself but actually shes more nervous when shes with other people...

dolphin beach sayaka: during the training camp they all wanted to do summer activities. kaho wanted to do everything she could think of to do with summer, tsuzuri wanted to eat watermelon, kozue wanted to stargaze, and when she went into the kitchen at night she found ruri grilling fish by herself

sekaichuu wo muchuu ni ruri: its really scary to jump into something thats already established no matter how fun it seems. its something that makes her lose a ton of ruri points. people say ruri is a subspecies of hinoshita, but actually kaho is wild and ruri is domesticated. ruri is a cheap imitation... besides kaho, she thinks only megu-chan could jump into something and call it fun

au bord du lac megumi is presumably the night they folded the paper into the star. megumi decided tsuzuri is the biggest, brightest star

megumi learned from kozue that the stars that form the spring, summer, and winter triangles are each part of separate constellations. it seems that the hasu triangle connects the cerise bouquet, dollchestra, and mirakura park constellations

megumi and ruri had an afternoon tea together. ruri bought the cake and megu... poured the tea that kozue had made and put in a water bottle for them back into the pot! thats basically like making it! [these reward cards were released the day the mirapa radio episode where they had afternoon tea was released]

megu-chan has always been able to look good in any outfit, and anytime anybody calls her cute makes her even cuter

for as long as megu can remember there were these girls living next door. at first she thought they were sisters, one looked like a doll wearing super cute clothes, and the other looked like a boy wearing tshirts and shorts. they turned out to be the same person! as they played together and became friends she still didnt dress very cutely, saying being cute was megu's job! when did that happen! in other words, everyone needs to tell ruri-chan how cute she is!!! and the cuter she feels the cuter she'll become!!!

the lake is one of ruri's favourite places. she used to come a lot with megu-chan. when they were discussing coming to a lake for this event they somehow decided on this one instead of lake hasu, even though lake hasu probably would have been better for mirapa's publicity. maybe they just wanted to confirm that theyre still together even now! or maybe thats just ruri

when she was a kid ruri's mother treated her like a doll and made her wear doll like clothes. but whenever ruri played outside she'd get dirty and so ended up being fired as her dress up doll by elementary school. well, she did have to change into special outside clothes instead. but now ruri's interested in wearing elegant clothes like that again and feels a little bad for hating them so much as a child

usapyon megumi is megumi editing their onsen live and usapyon kaho is kaho picking out souvenirs for her classmates

kaho went to a petting zoo with her family and held a rabbit. minori was smiling and wouldnt talk while holding it while futaba wanted to take it home with her. maybe kaho chose a rabbit as her school idol icon because she wanted people to feel like that and make them smile

the usapyon theme was the moon. ruri came up with the idea of being the victim whose dango were stolen by moon rabbits while sayaka is the space police, and when she told her about the idea sayaka told her it was innovative. sayaka thinks ruri's ideas are a charm point

when sayaka was in elementary school she used to play a dorokei (cops and robbers) but for some reason everyone always thought she was a cop. when she was a robber the cops wouldnt chase after her and when she went to jail to free fellow robbers they all thought she was a traitor. when she told ruri about this she called her "corrupt inspector village field!" [village = mura; field = no] but names arent meant to be translated literally... wait, who is the corrupt inspector meant to be!!!

megumi was mad at sachi for messing with the first says instead of them. plus kozue wasnt even here And right before the rindou sai! thats what made her start writing trick & cute with tsuzuri

megumi was the main lyricist but the second years all composed it together. and yes, megu-chan can write music!!! it wasnt until she joined hasunosora that she started learning properly though

when megumi brought up trick & cute at a meeting everyone got really into it. tsuzuri was humming ideas for the song the next day, and kaho had to scold kozue for trying to play guitar while sick. she also showed the first years the lyrics and asked for suggestions and they all thought seriously about it. looks like shes gotten her revenge on the rindou sai now!

if one of the first years were sick of course kozue would tell them not to push themselves too hard... but shes in a position of responsibility, shes the club president!!

she wanted to apologise for the inconvenience caused by her falling sick but megumi told her she sounded like she was holding a press conference so she stopped

to be honest, kozue doesnt have good memories of the rindou sai, as it was where megumi was injured last year. it was in front of a lot of people, and she was popular, so it was a big shock. it was megumi who inspired trick & cute, when she said "i want this stage to be bright and fun. i want to replace the painful memories with fun ones, for both myself, and everyone who supported me." in other words, trick & cute is kozue's selfish desire to let as many people as possible know about her feelings

kaho says trick & cute was already amazing but megumi-senpai showed her the lyrics and asked for any suggestions, so kaho wrote the "chocolate, candy datte odoru" line

ruri regrets leaving so much of the rindou sai prep to megu-chan and tsuzu-paisen even though she and the other first years had to overcome the trials. but megu-chan said it was all thanks to ruri, since when ruri was worrying about the trials, megu-chan rolled around on ruri's bed and asked what she wanted to do for the rindou sai. ruri said she wanted to do something fun!

since the rindou sai was where megu-chan got injured last year ruri wanted this year's to be fun! but that little demon!!! those arent pranks those are trials!!! sayaka-chan said not to make excuses, and since ruri actually realised something she guessed she wasnt wrong about that but still that demon!!! because of her sayaka-chan got all depressed and the senpai go all weird when her name comes up... and the sweets she gave them taste annoying!!!!

sayaka was truly worried that she might ruin the rindou sai for her senpai. this trial made her feel the same way she did six months ago where she couldnt see her future. the two differences between then and now were sachi-senpai's feelings, and hasunosora. sachi-senpai gave her this trial to guide her, and she was only able to have the willpower to overcome it because of her time at hasunosora. so shes truly grateful

tsuzuri says saya didnt know what to do for a halloween trick. she was sat by the window thinking about it all afternoon. time must have been frozen. that was god's trick. saya has been working hard to act in kozu's place but there were still a lot of things that didnt go well. but its still something only saya can do. shes indispensable, she does what shes asked and supports people who cant. saya can do it because of the way she is. shes so dazzling and beautiful she burns her eyes

actually listening to the hasu card voice lines now

vivid phrase tsuzuri and grace phrase kozue are the outfits they wore to promote the school idol club where kaho and sayaka first saw them perform!!

i have no idea how to take those early mirapa cards. are they just. fantasising about performing together. ruri literally is not even in the country at this point in the story

megu talking about editing a video before trailing off and saying "kozue and tsuzuri are so pretty..."

megumi rented out a photo studio for her megunyan stream??

kaho saying she probably wont be as competent (as kozue) when shes a second year herself <- shes a second year now!!!

tsuzuri's "i want you to know me" to sayaka(?)

「運命だったのかもしれないわね。どうしてかしら、花帆さんを見た時思ったの私はきっとこの子と一緒にスクールアイドルをやっていくんだって。まだまだ���い道のり、これから先も何が起きるかわからけれど、それでも私は花帆さんを選んだ。蓮ノ空女学院に進学すると決めた時のように ね。その選択を絶対に後悔なんてしないわ。初めて一緒にステージに立ってみて、隣に立って笑う花帆さんを見た時に胸の奥が暑くなった気がしたの。春は出会いの季節、それに恋の季節って言うでしょ？もしかしたら私は花帆さんのスクールアイドルとしての笑顔に恋をしてしまったのかも」

kozue: maybe it was fate. i dont know why, but when i saw kaho-san i thought to myself "im definitely going to be a school idol with this girl." theres still a long road ahead of us, and i dont know what will happen in the future, but i chose kaho-san, just as i chose to go to hasunosora. i will never regret that decision. when we stood on stage together for the first time, and i saw kaho-san smiling next to me, i felt a warmth in my heart. they say spring is the season of new encounters and the season of love, right? maybe i fell in love with kaho-san's school idol smile

the voice lines for the card of sayaka waking up tsuzuri for school are so long like a full minute longer than the others. its mostly tsuzuri saying how thankful she is she has sayaka standing by her and that she worried sayaka wouldnt know How grateful she is. so she gave her a nice acorn she found and sayaka gave her a cookie back

*tsuzuri gave kozue and kaho acorns as thanks in the main story too for making her realise everything sayaka was doing for her

they (ceribou + dollche presumably) all came up with the kunpuu no shirabe outfits together! the translucent fabric layer on top was kaho's idea

while kozue was making the kunpuu no shirabe outfits kaho kept leaving practice to check how she was doing and kozue thought she was like a puppy before thinking that wasnt appropriate for her to think as her senpai (lol)

sayaka (and kaho?) made the stage for scapegoat (and ouka ranman?)

tsuzuri often feels (felt?) lonely after a performance and it makes her want to do another show to feel the same emotions. kozue had to stop her from doing it the fourth time

sayaka saying she obviously cant know fully tsuzuri's greatness but she does want people to know the tsuzuri that she knows, and shes annoyed she wasnt able to properly convey that to kaho when they were talking about how much they love their senpai

tsuzuri didnt recognise herself in the photo of she and kozue from last year. she doesnt really remember her face since she only sees it in the mirror

tsuzuri said something about memories remaining in a form such as a photo, that when she tries to pull them out she can feel it in her chest along with other memories attached to it. so she knows that they happened. yet she cant remember her own face. if she doesnt pull the memories out theyll accumulate and get stuck. but if she keeps doing it she worries theyll fall apart and disappear

there are some memories she wants to disappear but even the ones she doesnt are at risk of disappearing. so she wants to make lots of memories that she does want to keep

sayaka's tragic drops card is probably happening the same time as tsuzuri's!! shes watching her stream :-)

tsuzuri: im not good at streaming but i know people who are, so i used them as a reference <- i knew it

[brattonez]

Ja Ara E

A/N: You find out Shuri is having a huge birthday bash at Wakanda’s most popular club and end up giving her the best gift of the night. Yes, this is smut. Black!Fem Reader (always and forever)

One of the biggest things you were curious about when you came to Wakanda was the social life. What were the young adults up to there? Parties? Secret hangouts? Clubs? You had seen some tourist say that the nightlife was amazing but you just had to see for yourself. So, here you were, roaming the streets of Wakanda at night. Passing various resturants and lounges. The atmosphere was extremely lively. Young people walking around laughing, talking, socializing. The music from the lounges echoed as you continued to walk on, taking everything in. The deeper down the strip you went, the more people began to appear. It was suddenly crowded and it seemed as if everyone was here for what looked like an event happening. You moved through the crowd for a closer look at what seemed to be a nightclub. It had to be at least 3 stories, with huge windows on each floor so the people in the club could be visible from the outside. You could see the neon lights flash and feel the bass from the music rumble the ground. There were people entering and exiting, dressed down in their best outfits. Mini dresses, designer clothes, jewelry you'd never seen before. What kind of event was happening here?

There was a security guard at the door. You walked over to him and was immediately met with his glare. "ID, please." He said, extending his hand out in front of you. You dug into your handbag and search for the card, suddenly buzzing with excitement. "Hey, is there some kind of event or something happening here tonight? Its really packed!" You spoke, still searching for the ID. The guard raised his brows as if the question you asked was odd. "Not just any event." He says as looks back into the club, smirking at dancing bodies.

"Its Princess Shuri's 22nd Birthday."

You found the ID and froze. The young people. The clothes. The music. Of course.

Why had you never thought that the Princess wouldn't be involved in the nightlife in her own country? How didn't you know that today was her birthday? How didn't you ever put two and two together? "Ma'am?" The guard silences your inner thoughts and gives you back your ID, granting you entry. You gave him a smile and made your way inside. The music was blaring. You could feel it in your bones. Everyone was either dancing, drinking, or taking pictures. You hadn't even noticed how hard you were smiling. Gravitating towards a near wall you watched in amazement at the scenery in front of you. It was like something out of a movie. The way everyone just seemed to be having a good time. After a few minutes of observing, you ventured over to the bar and ordered you a drink. The bartender was in the process of charging you when someone stopped them from your right side.

"Its on me."

You snapped your head over and was immediately met with a bright smile. The smile was gleaming through the dimly lit room and for a second, you could spot a shiny, silver bottom grill peeking through. The person sported a black suit with silver accent all through it. A diamond studded cuban link chain hung from their neck and multiple rings on their fingers. Panther rings. "No way..." You mumbled as you finally closed in on the person's face. Shuri took a step back leaning on the near counter. Her eyes went to floor, starting at your shoes and working their way up. Studying the way your dress hugged your hips and stopped at your thighs. Moving up to your chest, she took in the jewelry you had on. A necklace with heart charms on it, tinted to match the same color as your silver dress. Her eyes finally met with yours but not before making a stop to your cleavage. "Don't worry about it. Enjoy the party." She stated. You smiled and shook your head. "Princess....I-" The royal cut you off, taking hold of your hand. "Please, call me Shuri. I've told everyone here that the word Princess is forbidden for the whole evening." You chuckled, beginning to blush. You apologized quickly but she shrugged, brushing it off. "This club is crazy!" You say, taking a step closer to her. "Happy birthday by the way!" Smirking, she nodded. "Thank you, beautiful." You furrowed your brows for a slight second.

Was the Princess flirting with you?

She had paid for your drink and now here she was showering you with compliments. You hadn’t even noticed how close she was until she reached up to touch your necklace. Running her thumb over the heart charms, flickering her eyes up to you. “Shuri…?” Is all you could mutter, your body suddenly tense. Her fingertips lightly grazed your chest, immediately sending a chill up your spine. She smiled. “Is it your first time at this club?” She asked, taking a second to look at the large crowd on the dance floor. You nodded. “I didn’t even know it existed! I’ve been really interested in the Club scene here. Looks like y’all really know how to get down.” Shuri chuckled. “Yeah, I come here all the time. Back when I was underage, I sometimes had to use my royalty privileges but we’re gonna keep that on the hush.” She gave you a wink and you couldn’t even hide the redness on your cheeks. “What’s your name, love?” She asked, leading you over to an empty high top table. “You can call me Y/N.”

You responded, taking notice of the rings on her fingers. The shine from the Panthers gleaming in the low neon lights. Rising up, you squinted at her chain, watching it swing whenever she would make the slightest move. You admired her sharp jawline and how it clenched everytime she looked around, the duality it took to look that good and still be on high alert for anything dangerous in the area. Your eyes finally landed on her mouth, focusing in on the bottom grill...again. "What?" Shuri hindered. You leaned down, trying to get a closer look at them. "Your grill...it looks good." She leaned down and met your face inches away. "Thank you. I got it done a couple of days ago strictly for tonight." You just nodded slowly, starting to lose focus on what she was saying due to be so interested in the mouth jewerly. Not catching Shuri taking hold of your hands again and asking if you wanted to go somewhere more private. "Y/N?" She pondered, bringing you back to reality. You snapped back and looked up, finally. "You down?" Nodding quickly, both of you got up from the table in a hurry.  Shuri leading you through a crowd swiftly, dapping some folks up while moving forward. You couldn't believe this was actually happening, but there was barely time to process it. Before you knew it, you and the Princess were alone together in a secluded room away from the party. A VIP lounge of some sort with a big couch, tables, and its own small bar. The music from the club was slightly muffled but still loud enough to hear. Shuri sat down on the couch and slouched. Her legs slightly spread, one arm hanging off the arm of the couch, the other in her lap. She eyed you up and down, drinking you in from her view before motioning over to her.

"Come here, lovely."

You walked over almost immediately, finding yourself standing in between her legs, looking down at her sultry gaze. "Shuri..." She smirked before patting her right thigh. "Wanna sit for me?" You turned around and softly lowered yourself down. "I hope I'm not too heavy or anything-" She hushed you quickly. "Darling, you're perfect. I just want to make sure you're comfortable." You smiled at her concerned, it was nice to know that even in the position you two were in, she still respected boundaries. You leaned back slightly, your back now against her chest, feeling the cold sensation of her chain and rings on your skin. Hooking your left arm around, you met her gaze.

"Aren't you afraid someone will find us?"

Shuri scoffs and rolls her eyes, her hands continuing their journey to your inner thighs. She stared as you begin to squirm in her lap. Gripping you harder to still you, she peppered a few light kisses on the nape of your neck.

"This is a private room. I'm Royalty. And I'm a grown woman. I don't give a shit."

Well that answers everything, you thought. "You love those privileges, huh?" You teased. With a light snicker, the birthday girl took hold of your chin, meeting her lips with yours. Her tongue swiping your bottom lip, parting it slightly. You sighed as you let her take charge, following her lead. You shifted, so now you were directly facing the Princess, her hands still on your thighs. Immediately resuming the hungry make out session, you grounded your hips against hers. Earning a small sound from her, her hands trailing its way to your bottom, squeezing it. Your hands found its way to her neck, kissing it while beginning to grind slowly. "Please..." You mumbled, your whole body vibrating with want. You wondered if she could the puddle forming in your panties during all of this. "Oh, Y/N...talk to me..." She uttered, suddenly gaining an obsession with your pleading voice. "Tell me what you want, babygirl."

You begin to move faster now, hoping she would catch the hint. "Touch me, please." Her highness obliged, her hands traveling under your dress to grip your ass. Slowly directing your hips back and forth against her. Friction beginning to course through your body, making you mewl loudly against her neck. "That's it, love. I want to hear you loud and clear." She encourages as she reaches for your panties, sliding her fingertips between the thin fabric. A gasp leaving both of you as she was immediately met with the ongoing mess she created. Your hands reached for the couch and rose, letting Shuri have more access to your center, slowly beginning to circle your hips. Using her thumb to circle your clit, she leaned up to your neck, licking and sucking slightly. "So wet for me. Bast, you're gushing." You were practically a moaning mess now. Not caring about who could possibly hear. "Shit." You moaned, throwing your head back in pleasure. Shuri choosing to slowly slide a finger in your folds. You yelped, shivering. The cold feeling from her rings sending you into a freezy. Oh fuck. "Yes..." You heard her whisper, concentrating on sending you over the edge. "Oh, Shuri." You exclaimed as she added a second finger. Bringing her free hand up to your chest, she pulled down the front of your dress, making your breasts spill out. Quickly taking one in her mouth, her fingers begin to speed up. Her eyes on you the whole time, watching as you started to lose control of you body, unraveling right on top of her. "Does it feel good?" She asked, kneading your nipples. You continued to grind down on her fingers, completely in bliss. "Yes." Is all you could respond as a white hot feeling begin to form in your gut.

Yes, yes, yes. You had experience with sexual encounters before but they were never like this. The risk of getting caught. The publicity of it all. The reality that you were literally with a woman of Royalty at the moment. It was all crashing down on you.

"Cum for me, Y/N."

Your nails dug into the couch and with a sharp inhale, your body seized. Moaning out as you leaned your forehead onto Shuri's, using one hand to hold the back of her head. Your hearing wasn't that great but you could hear her speaking softly. "You look so good like this. Cum for me, beautiful. That's it." Clasping her mouth to your other breasts, tugging slightly. Wave after wave went through you. Your back arched into her chest, a thin layer of sweat forming on your deep brown skin. Her fingers starting to slow down, letting you ride out your high. You laid your head on her shoulder and lightly kissed at her neck. “Shuri…I don’t even know where to begin…” You say, not sure where the two of you go after this. You reach for her blazer, beginning to unbutton it but she stops you. “No. Not right now.” She grabs you hands and kisses them. “I just want to enjoy my gift right now.”

The music was still blaring as the two of you beamed at each other. Talking about each other's lives and backgrounds. Time had went by and you had finally got yourself presentable again. Shuri adjusting herself as well, making sure you watch as she stuck her fingers in her mouth, licking them clean. "How's it feel to be the birthday girl, your Highness?" You prompted, earning a smile from her. She stood up and walked in front of you. Grasping your hips and pressing herself on you, she kissed you. Slowly and Passionately. Her tongue quickly making its way to yours, making you taste yourself. Her hands finding their place on your ass, she backed away. "It feels amazing." You cupped her jaw and smiled.

"C'mon, let's go dance." Before leading you back into the main floor.

[prttydolls]

newbie || eddie munson x reader ༉‧₊˚.

— reader is a new student, and doesn't know about eddie’s reputation. eddie, thinks she’s one of the preppy bullies. ༉‧₊˚.

warnings || eddie being mean, enemies to lovers, rusty writing.

author’s note || sorry for being mia on writing, i lost motivation esp when my fics flop :/.

a fresh new start at hawkins, a fresh new blank page for your life here. it seemed scary, yeah but your dad had to move to hawkins in order to expand his business.

you stepped out of the bus, and walked towards the school building. so far, your day had been pretty normal. kids seemed nice, you thought.

later, during lunch you didn't have anywhere to sit there was only a vacant seat near the boys that wore leather jackets, and had a shirt with a logo called “hellfire club."

you were about to walk to that table when you heard a boy’s voice.

“as long as your into band, or science or parties.“

the boys looked at you weirdly, “what are you doing here sweetheart?“ eddie chuckled. you looked at him confused, “uh, sorry this was the only vacant seat i could find..”

eddie looked at you blankly, before chuckling darkly. as if you told the worst joke in history, he was pitying you.

“look sweetie, you can go back to that table over there. no need to pretend to be our friend if you wanna join the popular crowd.“ he sarcastically said, again you looked at him kind of in a sad way. your heart stung as his random boy just told you to fuck off.

you stood up and muttered a sorry before leaving and going to the cafeteria.

after you left eddie felt weird, after what he had done. he felt like it was wrong telling you to fuck off. he pushed those feelings aside and covering it up with confidence in being the town and school’s freak.

but your face, your frowning face always stayed in his mind.

it only took him a few days to realize you weren't apart of the cheer squad or anything that's associated with the popular crowd.

he felt really guilty, he just rejected a lost sheepy.

he decided to make it up to you, by bringing a bouquet of flowers. he saw you at your locker, he thought it was the perfect chance to get your attention.

“excuse me, y/n right?” he called out hesitantly.

you looked at him, analyzing his face it only took you a matter of seconds that it was the same boy that made a fool out of you in the cafeteria.

“oh, its you. what do you want?” you replied bitterly, eddie flinched at how salty your tone was. “i- i would just like to apologize after what i did.. I didn't know you were a new student.. you just seemed so- pretty? you seemed like someone from the cheer team.” he blushed.

you stared at him blankly while shutting your locker door shut, “uh thank you i guess? that’s still not a reason why you should judge people so fast.” you said while grabbing the bouquet of flowers from his hands and throwing them in a nearby trash can.

you smirked as you turned to see disappointment on his face, sweet revenge. you thought.

eddie was stunned at your revelation, he really needed to get you to forgive him, because there was just something about you that wanted him to grow closer to you.

so he made it his life mission, to make you forgive him.

it had been a few months since the incident, and now it was your birthday. you had some friends to celebrate it with you in the cafeteria, they surprised you in the cafeteria with a bunch of party streamers.

you laughed and smiled with them the whole time, but something caught your eye.. it was eddie holding a small little gift box, he was smiling at you.

somehow, it made your heart flutter alot. but before you could go to him, your friend dragged you over to meet some guy with a gift for you.

“okay! this is greg, he has a gift for you!” she excitedly rambled, you awkwardly said thank you. “open it!!" she giggled.

you opened it to see a really cute but expensive necklace, you thanked the boy again before slipping away from them and finding eddie.

you tried to find him everywhere. he was gone, but you eventually found him in the drama room, sitting and sulking sadly. “uhm, hi eddie..” you waved shyly

he looked suprised to see you, “oh, hi! y/n uhm happy birthday” he greeted awkwardly, as you sat down next to him on the ground.

“what are you doing here?” he asked, “i saw you.”

he hummed a huh, in response. “i saw you, you looked like you wanted to say something to me?”

“right uh- i have a gift for you! and i need to say something to you..” he handed you the small gift box

your heart skipped, he had a gift for you.

“w-wow, thanks eddie” you smiled softly. you opened it to see the new album from one of your favorite artist. out of excitement you hugged him tightly

“oh my god eddie!, thank you!!”

he unexpectedly hugged you back making you blush alittle, he chuckled and replied “your welcome, and i just wanna apologize what i said a few months back.. i know you didn't deserve that especially from the town and schools freak.. you seem cool, like really cool and it would be cool to hangout with you sometimes..” he confessed.

you giggled, and hugged him once more “apology, accepted eddie.”

taglist ; @lazydreamer19 @thehalfbloodedwitch @peanutbutter-y-jams

[justalildumpling]

⇢friday night

synopsis: every friday night was a relaxing time for you, until one night your ex came to your doorstep and left you faltering once again. conflicted, you call your best friend sunwoo for advice; however, after sharing your vulnerabilities together, left you wondering where his true feelings lie.

pairing: best friend!sunwoo x reader (ft. ex boyfriend!juyeon) genre: angst, fluff, unrequited love word count: 1.2k warnings: drinking, break up, clubbing/partying note: lol i haven’t finished exams yet but i wanted to upload something so here u go hehe ;)

Friday night was your favourite time of the week.

It was your time to settle down on the couch without any worries about your mountainous workload and most importantly, it was quiet. As an office worker you were constantly surrounded by noise; whether it’s the managers nagging from your left to your nosy coworkers gossiping from the right, all you wanted was some peaceful time to yourself.

Every Friday evening had the same routine, go home, order food, shower, and watch TV. It wasn’t the typical Friday night that others imagined, but you didn’t want it any other way.

That Friday evening like every other, had you drained.

After ordering your dinner, you sat sprawled out on your couch, your head resting against its arms. You didn’t particularly feel like getting up, though you knew that you would regret it later.

“Five more minutes,” you thought.

Apparently the universe seemed to disagree as only a few seconds later your doorbell decided to chime.

Letting out a huff, you slowly crawled out of your position on the couch to the door. It was strange, you were pretty sure it had only been five minutes since you’d ordered your food, but then again, time seemed to go by so quickly lately.

With a click, the door frame is pulled towards your body. However, the person who stood in front of you wasn’t in fact your local pizza person, but Juyeon, your ex.

“Juyeon?” You muttered almost audibly, “What are you doing here?”

Juyeon remained silent, like he found it challenging to figure out what to say in response. Silence floated between the two of you, but it wasn’t awkward, but rather solemn.

“I missed you.”

|♥︎♥︎♥︎|

It was a typical Friday night for Sunwoo, leaving work ready to cool off from a long week. Though unlike your usual peaceful evening, his was spent at the nearest club.

There was something relieving about the powerful bass that always played inside the intoxicated place. Sunwoo always found the club fascinating, how quickly someone could change within the acidic hues of the smoky haze. Of course, most of the confidence seemed to arise after a visit to the people’s haven, the drink bar.

Sunwoo wasn’t a huge fan of alcohol, yet there he was every Friday night, downing his electric blue drink in one go, letting out a content sigh as he felt the burning, bitter taste of the drink rush down his throat. From his left he heard the muffled cheers of his friends, which made the corners of his lips turn upwards. Sunwoo was an entertainer, naturally making him love being around people, especially you.

Sunwoo had tried to drag you clubbing a few times, but you had always refused his offers, claiming that Fridays were only reserved for yourself. Sunwoo had always pouted at your words, never understanding why you would want to waste your Friday nights alone, but he never pushed you, especially after your break-up with Juyeon.

Sunwoo and Juyeon became close at university, both known as the faculty’s wildest party animals; it was only natural for them to be apart of the same friend group. You were quite outgoing during your uni days, willingly following Sunwoo to every party, and that’s when you met Juyeon.

It was a typical Friday evening at a stranger’s house, the music pumping through the speakers; the dance floor flooded by a sea of grinding bodies. You stood by the drinks table, sipping on some kind of alcoholic concoction, hoping that it wasn’t going to kill you.

You heard a voice calling your name, and that’s when your eyes met his.

Despite his cold exterior, there was a kind of warmth radiating within his dark eyes. Though, all his frostiness seemed to melt away as soon as his eyes crinkled into crescent moons. For some reason that moment made the corners of your lips turn upwards, your heart chambers slowly but surely opening up to the stranger who stood in front of you.

Your relationship with Juyeon blossomed not long after the party, and all went went until it came to a halt that Friday night. Insensitive comments and resentful screams thrown around the once peaceful apartment; tears threatening to spill down your cheeks as you faced his back to you.

Sunwoo never exactly approved of your relationship, though he himself couldn’t understand the exact reason why, and it frustrated him. Sunwoo took another swig of the burning liquor, his head anticipating the pounding hangover due the next morning.

Every Friday night was an unpredictable journey for Sunwoo; maybe that night he'd get into a pub brawl or accidentally end up passing out at Eric’s place. Though what he didn’t expect was to get a phone call from you.

As soon as he heard you speak, he knew something was off—the usual cheeriness in your voice was replaced with a hush tone, your voice cracking every so often.

You rarely cried, but whenever you did Sunwoo was always there. Always willing to drop everything to go to you, always ready to listen or just to simply sit until you were alright again and that night was no different.

After only a couple of minutes, there was a series of taps on your front door. Quickly wiping away the excessive tears from your stinging eyes, you opened the door to face him.

Sympathy lingered in Sunwoo’s eyes as he observed your glassy appearance. Though you remained silent, not knowing how to explain your faltering state, your eyes continued to gaze into his. But once that first tear broke free, the rest followed in an unsteady stream. You leant into Sunwoo’s arms, pressing your palms to his chest.

“I thought I was over him, Sunwoo.” You whimpered, “What do I do?”

“Let’s talk about it over drinks, shall we?”

—

The two of you sat around your dining table, enveloped by a comfortable silence, sipping on the only thing that seemed to be able to calm your racing mind.

“Pathetic right?” You suddenly spoke fiddling with your shot glass in your palms.

“What?”

“This whole thing.” You sighed. “We broke up three months ago, yet I’m still like this.”

Sunwoo’s eyes only panned to your empty glass, nodding as he poured you another round.

“At first everything seemed okay; maybe the house felt a little empty, but normal nonetheless.” You started though, pausing to take a sip. “So I believed I was over him.”

Though Sunwoo’s lips remained shut, he nodded once again, gesturing for you to continue.

“But when he turned up at my doorstep today, it felt like everything just came crashing down. It’s confusing right?”

You glanced up at Sunwoo to meet his eyes once again.

“Not at all.” he replied softly, a comforting smile adorning his face.

“I know how it feels.” He started. “It’s like no matter how many times you think you’re over them, but as soon as they do anything everything comes tumbling down.”

Sunwoo paused to glimpse up at you, his eyes boring into yours.

The dining room became silent once more, though this time the air felt thick, almost suffocating.

“What?” You whispered, your breath shuttering.

“I’m very used to that feeling.”

taglist: @deputyjuyeon

[telfordelle]

Naughty

Characters: Filip "Chibs" Telford x Y/N

A/N: I just had to get this out of my system, I guess. Also, here's a recipe for the Purple Nurple

Words: ~ 2.2k

Warning: Smut

You were in the Clubhouse, sitting in front of the bar. Nobody in the club knew that you two had something going on. You weren't sure why Chibs hadn't introduced you yet, but you were fed up with hearing his excuses over and over again. Therefore, you figured that it was time to provoke your man a little bit. You knew that the club was having a party this evening, so you decided to dress up and surprise your favourite Scot. Your black lacy lingerie was brand new, and he hadn't seen it yet. He was in for a surprise when he'd undress you this evening.

"Another beer, honey?" Gemma asked you. You nodded and thanked her after she had slid the beer over the counter to you. Gemma came around the bar and sat on the stool beside you.

"Is everything okay?" she wanted to know. You chuckled - Gemma had always been good at sensing your mood.

You had known Gemma since you were young. Her son Thomas had been your best friend in kindergarten and first grade. It had broken your heart when your best friend's health was getting worse and worse, and after his death, you had been devastated. From that time on, Gemma had taken you under her wing.

"Nah, it's nothing. Work's just a bit stressful at the moment," you lied, hoping that she wouldn't notice it. But of course, she would. After all, it was Gemma you were talking to.

"Honey, I know that this is not your 'my work sucks' face but your 'men problems' face."

You sighed. Why was she so good at reading you?

"You're right," you admitted.

"So, what kind of man is troubling you?" she asked.

"The kind who doesn't seem to be sure if he wants a serious relationship or not."

"What makes you think so?" she asked, "Did he say that directly?"

"We've been together for a while now, and I know that he’s the type to be in a serious relationship, but he doesn’t want to make it official and introduce me to his friends,“ you complained.

"Well, did you introduce him to yours?" She raised an eyebrow as if to prove her point.

"Gemma, that's not the point. I mean, he made it pretty clear that he isn't interested in that. So he probably also isn't that interested in me," you replied sulkily.

"Honey, maybe he just needs some time. Also, men can be pretty dense sometimes. You two should probably just talk it out, trust me. I've been with the most stubborn and dense men you can find in Charming," she said, laughing heartily. Hearing her laugh, you couldn’t help it and joined in.

"Well, I hope everything will work out in your favour. I'll see you later!"

You nodded and smiled at her. Talking to Gemma always lifted your mood.

You grabbed your beer, took a big sip, and looked around the Clubhouse. You were familiar with most of the club members, but as always, there were also some people you didn't recognize - especially the Crow Eaters. Sometimes you wondered if Chibs still hung around with some of them. Whenever you tried talking to him about making it official, he was blocking you. He said that he had his reasons, and at first, you believed him, but as the situation didn't improve, you got increasingly frustrated. And speaking of the devil, or rather, thinking of the devil, there he was.

You gulped, why was he so sexy? You took another sip of your beer, debating whether you should just go to him or leave the decision up to him. Mentally, you slapped yourself to stop staring at the Scot. To your displeasure, you found that others were also interested in your man. Fucking Crow Eaters. One of those bitches was clinging to the Scot, ogling him. You clenched your fists as soon as she started to caress his shoulder in a flirty way. Forcing yourself to look away, you exed your beer, giving the guy at the bar a sign that you wanted another one. Or even better, something stronger. You ordered a Purple Nurple, hoping that this one would numb your thoughts - and feelings.

Still, you couldn't help it and had to sneak a peek. And what you saw made you hold your breath. That bitch from before had her hand in your man's back pocket, and it seemed as if she was biting his earlobe. Instead of pushing her away, he was - grinning?

You saw red. Alright, two could play this game. It was time to take some action. You knew that Tig was always up for some fun, no feelings attached, so you made your way over to him.

"Hey, Tigger," you greeted him. You used the nickname because you knew that it would make Chibs furious - albeit knowing that he couldn't even hear you at this moment.

"Y/N, what's up?" he said, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

"Wanna dance?" you asked.

"Sure, babe," Tig replied, smirking. He took your hand and led you to the centre of the room.

You circled each other, gazes remaining locked. You knew that the other Sons were watching you, so you were fairly certain that Chibs' eyes would also be on you. Tig wiggled his eyebrows as you danced towards him, lewdly swaying your hips. You gently rested your hands on his chest. Slowly, your hands slid down his body as... you could hear someone clear their throat.

"Am I interruptin' somethin'?" that someone asked with a thick Scottish accent. You turned around and were greeted by an angry-looking face. Chibs nodded at Tig, who got the hint and excused himself.

"What's your problem?" you asked, knowing that the question would get him even more agitated. His eyes turned dark.

"You're mine," he growled.

"Well, last time I checked, you weren't willing to tell anyone about us," you snapped.

"Then it's time to change that," he replied, scowling.

"Oh, all of a sudden?" you retorted. You knew that you got what you wanted, but it still made you angry that you had to play the jealousy card.

"Lass, ye'r comin' wi' me," he said huskily. Chibs grabbed you by your wrist and pulled you with him towards the door. While being dragged away, you caught a glimpse of Gemma, who was smirking. Of course, she would connect the dots immediately.

Instead of going to his bike, he went for one of the trucks.

"Get in," he growled, holding one of the doors open.

"Why should I?" you replied, arms crossed in front of your chest.

"I'm not discussin' this wi' ye," he answered. You knew that both of you had done their wrongs, so you got in without another word.

The tension was so thick you could cut it with a knife. You just hoped that you would get to your flat soon. Your eyes kept wandering to him. Did you finally fuck up? Was this the point of no return? All you wanted was for him to finally acknowledge you in front of the others. You sighed. You sighed. Finally, you arrived at your flat. He went straight for the door. Reluctantly, you got out of the truck. Had you pissed him off so much that he would end your relationship? Hands trembling, you opened the main entrance and went up the stairs. You could hear him follow you. Luckily, your apartment was on the second floor.

"I'm so angry wi' ye right now, I cannae put it into words," he snapped.
 "Tch, what are you angry for?" you huffed. 
He growled. "Ye'r MINE, lass." His eyes had a dangerous glint to them. If you hadn't been so angry, maybe you would have been turned on by now. Scratch that, you definitely were turned on. But you still had to stand your ground.
 "Yours, huh? Certainly didn't seem like it when that fucking Crow Eater was feeling you up. You don't even have the balls to tell the others about me! Maybe I'm just tired of waiting, Tig didn't seem to have a problem being seen with me in public." You looked at him challengingly.

And Chibs snapped. He saw red, thinking back about you dancing with Tig, touching him. He pinned you against the door and kissed you hard, wandering from your mouth to your neck. You moaned into his ear, which only turned him on even more. You could feel how hard he was, and you began stroking him through his pants.

"Bed," he growled while picking you up. But instead of just throwing you onto the bed, he sat on its edge and bent you over his knees.

"You've been bad, lassie," he murmured while grabbing your ass.

"Guess I have to punish ye," he drawled, accent getting thicker the more turned on he got.

"Lift yer ass," he said, tone demanding. You did what he said, and he immediately pulled down your shorts, taking in a sharp breath as he saw your new lingerie. It seemed as if your surprise was working. Frantically, he also took off your shirt.

"Ye look good. But don't think you'll get off your punishment just because of that," he hummed, rubbing you through your pants. You hissed - you were already wet. He began rummaging through the bedside cabinet where you stored your toys. He chuckled, which probably meant that he had found what he had been looking for. He blindfolded you and you could hear him opening a bottle. You shivered in anticipation. He pushed your panties aside and let two fingers glide between your buttcheeks, making them slick with lube. You gasped as he entered your hole.

"Relax," he murmured into your ear. You concentrated on his voice.

"Maybe this will help you," he said. Before you could ask him what he meant, he shoved something into your mouth. "Suck on it," he commanded. You recognized the shape as one of your buttplugs. You squirmed under his touch, excited for what was about to happen. Maybe you should be naughty more often if that meant that he would punish you this way.

He removed his fingers, only to replace them with the buttplug shortly after. You drew in a sharp breath.
"Ye like that, dinnae ye?" His thick voice made you even wetter, which he immediately noticed.

Still bent over his knees, he spanked you a couple of times. Each time his hand connected with your ass, a wave of pleasure surged through you. Blindfolded, every sensation felt more intense. You bit back a moan.

Sternly, Chibs told you to get on all fours and lift your arse. You could hear from the sound of his voice that he was annoyed with you. He was displeased with your behavior at the clubhouse. Now he had to make you behave again.

You heard him opening his jeans and sliding them down his hips. They fell to the floor with a thud. You were so wet, he would be able to slide into you at once. You bit your lip, and your hips rolled involuntarily at the thought of this. You needed some friction, right now. You needed HIM. You gasped as he opened your lips with the head of his hard cock, teasing you because he didn't immediately put it inside you. It felt like an eternity. Chibs ran the tip of his cock up and down your folds, making you long for more.

"Filip," you whimpered, begging him to finally fuck you.

"Don't come. I'm going tae fuck ye just a little 'n' slowly. Don't ye dare come before ah say so."

He thrust into you, at last giving you what you so desperately needed. Spreading your buttcheeks, he stroke over the buttplug with his thumb, making you moan out loud. Chibs leaned over you, bringing his hot mouth toward your ear.
 "Who's the only one allowed to touch ye?"


"Y-you," you barely managed to get out.

"What was that? Say it louder," he demanded. Why was his voice so sexy?

"You!" you cried out with pleasure.

"Good girl," he murmured into your ear before grabbing your hips and beginning to fuck you harder and faster. You were almost there, but he hasn't allowed you to come. You spread your legs wider, rotating your hips and meeting his movements. Your breath became short.

"Do ye want to come?" Not being able to form any coherent sentence, you just nodded.

Instead of answering, he took off the blindfold, flipped you over, and kissed you hard. His thrusts became more erratic. He brushed your hair out of your face and leaned his forehead against yours.

Your orgasm hit you like an earthquake, bucking your hips you enclosed Chibs with your legs, wanting to feel him even deeper inside you, be even more connected with him. He groaned and you could feel his cock twitching as he came, shuddering. He kissed you deeply, almost tenderly, conveying all his feelings for you.

------------------------------------------------------

Both of you were still shaking, as you snuggled up to him.

"When are we going to tell the others?" you wanted to know.

"Lass, I don't think there's a need to do that anymore - they already know now," he laughed.

You punched his shoulder, glaring at him.

"Alright, alright, I got the message. Tomorrow, okay?"

Well, you could live with that. Smiling, you cuddled up against him, never wanting to let go again, ever.

[hhjs]

love or lack thereof.

pairing  — felix x reader

genre / trope  — angst, fluff / exes with benefits.

word count — 7.7k 

warnings  — suggestive, heavy implications, swearing, some making out but no actual r rated stuff but i will say this is suitable for 18 and up audiences. 

note  — this is unedited, subject to change. spare me lol

There are two sides to every person. The side that you want people to see and the side that you keep to yourself.

You think you've come to discover all those aspects of Lee Felix. Given that he's sweet, unassuming and inexplicably kind to the naked eye but you know, the rising anger in you knows he's only ever been cruel to you.

"Move," you seethe, he moves to let you in but you unintentionally knock your shoulder against his. There's people on the subway, and you hate the way Felix's innocent gaze finds yours for a second and it makes you look like the bad guy.

You feel the disapproving glare of a grandma who has a crumpled catalogue about seasonal pie recipes on her lap, as if she can't believe how much of a cunt you were being to an absolute stranger.

A roll of eyes follows, fishing for your ear phones, if only they knew.

Seeing your ex boyfriend outside of your casual deal hits you with the force of a punch to the gut. But you hid it exceptionally well. Arrogantly jutting your chin upwards. Whilst he cowers beside you, having supposedly caught your sour mood.

To think you had spent an hour with him in a bedroom just formerly...is rather strange. You've been sleeping with him for the past few months now and where it had begun is slightly mysterious to you — was it Chan's birthday party or a clubbing gone wrong one night stand just after Felix had come back to town....? You aren't entirely sure.

Albeit the arrangement is ingrained in your head — what you have with him is a secret strictly kept from your friends who otherwise if even caught air of a mere conversation between you two would invite an influx of queries. This is simple, physical, you don't have time for a relationship, let alone one with him and to mend how utterly lonely you are with someone who hasn't already seen you naked, someone who you couldn't blindly trust, is too much work.

Even though Felix is indubitably affected by your unwavering indifference, something he wasn't used to when you were together because of how giving you were to sate his utterly needy tendencies. Now he feels himself clawing at your hardened exterior in search of just those affections to no actual avail —hurt crossing his eyes when you sneak out of bed without saying goodbye, when days pass and you don't call or text and most importantly, when you're in public and you can't be bothered to spare him as much as a glance. To you, it's nothing more and nothing less. You make it a necessity to keep reminding him.

See you liked to pretend you're a resilient person. That in your heart you really do forgive people and move on.

But he is an exception.

"Did you eat?" He perks up, his voice is small. Careful.

You keep your stoic expression, looking ahead. "No."

Then he blinks, like he usually does when he doesn't understand why you act the way you do. Impolite, communicating only in monosyllables.

Do you really hate him that much?

There's a hoodie pulled over his black hair, longer along the neck,headphones dangling from his neck and his backpack in his hand, he hopes when he holds onto the same railing as you are, that your fingers should brush just a little.

Despite the way you adamantly ignore him, Felix opens his mouth to utter a passing inquiry. Your jaw clenches. And you desperately begin to scan the city map plastered inside to navigate passengers to their destinations.

"Can we...do you want to get something to eat..." He swallows, "together?"

As if he's crazy for even making such a proposition, you look at him once but from the corner of your eye and he thinks that's a lot considering how often you look past him, through him, never at him. You shake your head, giving him a warning stare.

Across from you, his reflection is frowning at your negative response. Still staring at you with a marveling gleam in his eyes, how much you've changed over the past two years just as he has....still takes him by surprise. Suddenly and unexpectedly, his eyes flicker to yours and he finds you staring at his image against the glassed doors. And like a deer caught in headlights, your heart drops to the depths of your stomach.

The announcement above falls deaf to your ears as you exit in a blind rush of sheer panic. Ignoring the biting cold and unfamiliar station. Your stop is still quite far. Maybe you'd have to take the taxi... or walk.

But in the face of all those hassles you sense yourself feeling incredibly relieved...because frankly, you think, you could go to hell and back if gets you away from him.

—

"So you came to tell me you're just gonna give up? Is that it?"

Felix carefully glances at you through his lashes, silently pursing his lips as to convey the answer.

You stare at the speckles of light kissing up his freckled cheeks, his big beaming eyes, a slightly low bridge but rounded tip of his nose paired with a small upturned mouth.

You can't believe you won't see him again.

Whenever he'd catch a break, he'd take the 2 hour bus to town and come see you, meet you and those once in six months meetings alone, to you, compensated for his lengthy absence.

So it couldn't be the distance, you thought, if that were the case he'd have dumped you when he moved to the capital for university.

Felix just doesn't want to be with you anymore.

"You don't get it...." He closes his eyes, as if he doesn't want to see himself saying what he is about to say, you almost don't get the resistance in his tone. The subtle drop of his Adam's apple. "I don't want to hurt you." He starts, "Just think about this rationally... we're so young, what if I find someone else there?"

Someone...else?

Is it that easy to dispose of you? Aren't you enough?

How foolish of you to only ever think of him.

It felt like Felix was kicking you where knew would hurt the most.

Your sardonic laugh is cracked, garbled and it's so fucking embarrassing that you're crying in the middle of a fast food joint, your fries have gone cold. Had you known seeing him this time would be vastly different from usual, you wouldn't have ordered at all. Why didn't he tell you before? Why had he insisted on catching you unawares?

But then again...this isn't about you at all. This is about Lee Felix. This is about him reducing your worth to make room for himself.

Ultimately, you understand, what is worse than not being loved back is being loved by someone who doesn't love you as much as you do them.

"Well I won't stand in your way then,"

You clear your throat,

"Fuck..." you rub your temple, the sadist in you coughing up hysterical laughs. The ache inside your heart at this point has turned into physical pain, cracks fissuring out against its surface and gnawing at the flesh like its being torn apart at the seams.

You should've seen this coming.

Everyone told you and told you you could only drag on an opposites attract sort of relationship for so long before you start to realise how incompatible you are.

Felix has the audacity to reach over and place his fingertips on your knuckles,his eyes are sad, overflowing with pity. It makes you feel small, the way he looks at you, small, sad and abandoned.

What tips you over the edge, however, is how calm he seems, as if he had been precisely planning to dump you for days and months and years while you continue to make a fool out of yourself never have forseen his decision.

There are tears running down your cheeks, abusing your vision with a vicious sting. You bring your sleeve to collect the needless moisture in a sudden rise of temper that is oh so typical of you.

You snatch your hand away from his touch.

"Don't touch me." You say, the simple comment transfers pain to Felix's eyes, mouth parting in silent words. You want to scream at him, you want to shake him by the collar and tell say something, just say anything at all and I will forgive you. Goddamnit.

In a perfect world, you think, a world where things happened exactly the way they should, you wouldn't have said, instead,

"And don't you fucking dare come back here...ever again."

And...in that very perfect world, he would've listened.

—

Felix thinks he could, dare he say, love everything about you. Even though you most certainly deserve someone who hasn't hurt you the way he has.

Now it's funny actually, how the tables have turned...back then, he wasn't sure about you and now you aren't about him.

Felix doesn't really blame you though...because he knows he asked for it.

Your presence in his life has somehow become an absolute necessity to say the least. And ironically enough, while he had so confidently pushed you to let go of him, he realises he had been holding onto you all along.

Now what was he saying...again?

Right. Felix loves everything about you.

But what he loves most...is the way your hand instinctively finds his heart when you're kissing. It's just a simple movement of your fingers splaying against his chest, the warmth of them seeping through the fabric of his shirt. He doesn't even know why it means so much to him.

His hand drops from your ass to the back of your thighs to situate you closer to his chest. He moans into the kiss when your teeth comes to scrape against his bottom lip, your ministrations are typically rough and speedy but he is seemingly far too absorbed by the exhilarating feeling coursing throughout his entire form — it's not just blatant lust, he knows, but a much deeper understanding that he is inexplicably gladdened by the fact that he's touching you and you're touching him.

A shaky breath leaves Felix's parted lips as he cranes his neck to allow your lingering kisses to shift along his angular jaw.

Then without quite meaning to, his vision focuses on the table clock that reads it's well past midnight...you had run late tonight for reasons you neglected to disclose. Now that he really focuses, a strong musky fragrance akin to unfamiliar men's cologne wafts up his nostrils.

It couldn't be....

As Felix's suspicions run deeper, he restlessly begins to search up every aspect of his surroundings as best as he can in the limited provision of light. There is a large coat discarded on his bed, one he hasn't seen you wear before...then again it might not be yours at all...

You notice how he's stopped responding to you, so you pause, leaning back, still on his lap. "Is something the matter?"

Felix swallows, blinking up innocently at you. This deal is simple, isn't it? He knew what he was getting into the first time you got together and the second and the third and so on, so why had the possibility of you getting involved with someone else even bother him then?

Both of you knew why.

And what's worse is that Felix is sensitive by nature, never truly succeeding to hide his emotions, especially intense ones when faced with them. So he is hyper aware of the fact that what he is feeling in the moment is not jealousy, it's neither anger nor resentment but a deep seated insecurity that he will lose you.

Again.

"Were you...with someone?"

As expected, your hands resign from cupping his face, you avoid looking at him.

"What?"

Felix clears his throat, his accent thicker, voice heavy from disuse. He thinks about something being with you in the same way only he has...and it causes a dull ache inside his chest.

He rests his head back against the sofa and shrugs lazily. As if to prove a point, as if to say did he touch you here? his fingers ride up your t shirt, gently cupping your ribs, he tries not to look too satisfied when you quiver under the touch.

Still you lift yourself up and the sudden lack of contact almost makes him whine.

You stand before him. A hand at your hip.

"Why are you acting like this?" You say and he notes you sound more... curious than annoyed. Though what frustrates him is that you hadn't answered his question. "I thought I made myself clear...there are rules we agreed upon."

Oh he knows — no staying over, no personal questions, no jealousy.

Felix purses his lips. The downside of your forwardness, the same utterly admirable trait he finds really fucking hot, the one that conditions you to tell Minho off when he hogs all of Felix's brownies though the latter himself is too much of a pushover to say anything, the same one which had in times of recurring doubtfulness assured him of your strong feelings towards him, is that you say whatever comes to mind without sparing anyone's feelings.

"I'm just asking, [........]," he lies, trying to control the pain from projecting itself onto his voice. It hurts to see the way you jump to defend yourself around him, as though you're scared he'll hurt you again. The lack of faith you have him, after all this time, causes him hurt. "Why are you getting so upset...."

Felix is gentle. Communicating his feelings through his actions rather than words, cooly, slowly. And you are the exact opposite — there is an immediacy in your conveyance, a roughness. You mean what you say and you say what you mean so you think everyone does too. Which is why, he concludes, his present actions are insufficient to remove the seeds of resentment he'd left in the wake of his bitter utterances when you broke up.

But Felix was only 18 then, a kid completely unaware of his overwhelming need to have you in his life....what matters is, he's trying...he really is, to recover from his mistakes......shouldn't that least matter?

Thinking the slight inhibition in his tone is just a figment of your imagination and that he is simply and indifferently inquiring you, you feel a wave of embarrassment wash over you. Then you drop down on the bed, feeling for his remote.

You sniff through your nose and against your better judgement say, "I went out with an acquaintance,"

On weekends Chan usually wasn't home, you could come over. This is the routine, it has been for some time now...so, you've come to know Felix's room more intimately than your own, the walls are a deep blue, like the kind of blue out of a Holly Warburton painting. There's an old Coldplay poster on the back of his door and X-Men action figures from eons ago lined on the edges of his bookshelf.

You know where everything goes when though it's dark. But that doesn't mean anything.

It shouldn't.

"A acquaintance who gave you their coat midwinter...you must be close,"

You ignore his pointed comment, he ignores the way your eyes light up when you talk about this acquaintance.

"He's nice." You say, "He walked me to the station and everything."

A happy hum comes in response.

Because when was the last time you talked to him as freely as you are?

Felix plops down on his stomach beside you, elevating his form on his elbows. His fingers come to brush loose strands out of your eyes. Your gaze meets his for the second time that week. Slower. As if you hadn't minded looking him this time. He feels his heart being tugged at all possible angles.

Then, because he can't stop himself — he leans down and kisses you, tentative and indolent, like he has all the time in the world, like all he wants to do is kiss. Don't get him wrong...you've done downright unspeakable things with him, to him...but nothing mediates his adoration for you without the employment of speech like these little chaste...purposeless movements. His fingers coming to splay against your neck, thumbing along your throat when you gulp, the tip of your nose brushing against his cheekbone, eyes fluttering shut. They're...they're intimate. Utterly special. He knows you feel it too, from the way you look slightly surprised, searching his face, eyes skimming up any fragment of emotion conveyed in his features. But you don't encourage it, slowly shifting to turn your back as you lay quietly against his chest.

"Let me stay here tonight," you say, "I'm tired."

"Okay,"

Felix thinks you've broken not one, but two rules now. He hadn't expected you to answer. He hadn't expected you to get into bed with no intention of departing either.

Though he doesn't hold it against you, this is what he wants, for you to open up to him again...after all. These changes can't be bad changes, even if they are little, it's still progress...right?

—

You wet your fingers, dipping the moistened muscle against the clay mold. All around you is not as eerily quite as it is in your apartment, footsteps thrumming against hardwood floor, kiddish humming from the kitchen, the smell of sugar in the air, you've never worked outside of your home station and well...in class. You thought of yourself as a self sufficient individualist, you liked to believe that you didn't enjoy other people's company like you did your own, with the exception of your roommate. But that's only since you aren't close enough for her to disturb you.

Yet with Soomi moved out for good, the place felt...odd to stay by yourself.

So you found yourself spending more and more time at Felix's. It's nice to have a place to crash in every now and then, the sex is great and when you get hungry after, you don't have to think twice about scouring the fridge.

You don't know why you put off spending time aside from sleeping together at all, more time spent didn't necessarily add to your deal or subtract from it....because the action itself doesn't really mean anything. Everyone gets tired of being alone at some point. That's a universal fact.

Initially, you told yourself your presence was a consequence of Chan catching you two in the shower one night...so now that the cat's out of the bag, you two figured his place could become the only premise you didn't have to play pretend in. You both knew the elder would be more than willing to keep the younger's secret even if he didn't exactly approve of it.

With the increased frequency of your visits, bits and pieces of you remain dispersed all throughout the apartment, your body wash in his bathroom, your underwear in his laundry, the smell of you in his sheets, on his clothes. You had relaxed yourself through the periphery of his life and he had small glimpses of yours, habits and flaws, unknowingly...or knowingly....whatever. — Felix could only thank God that Chan had found out, in spite of the revelation itself putting you both in a compromising position.

With time, he starts to keep a few secrets from you too, here and there, knowing that if you knew you will stop doing it altogether. He can't have that...

You throw a leg around his hip when you're fast asleep, flinging an arm not a second later to cage him in your warm embrace. Felix likes the way your chest rises and falls against his back, how your breath tickles his skin and your mouth parts against his shoulder blade. Sometimes he stays awake and waits for you to do it, then when you do, he grins so hard his face hurts a little. Felix likes being the little spoon.

"Are you listening?"

His vision narrows down to the sight of you holding out your palms in the air, there's wet clay on them, as well on your cheek and legs, between them your pottery wheel is halted to desuetude, there's old newspapers layering the floorboard to prevent staining.

"Sorry...," he smiles sheepishly, "What did you say?"

It's your turn to shift your gaze to your feet. Felix thinks it's highly uncharacteristic, the way you seem almost...shy?

"Can you..." You eye the mug mounted on his study desk, he catches onto your request easily, "I'm thirsty—"

"Yeah yeah hold on... careful," Felix chirps, carefully guiding the rim to your lips to make sure it doesn't spill. He uses the tip of his thumb to wipe the corner of your mouth, you flinch first but then whilst the mild shock subsides, simply stare up at him as the pad of his thumb brushes against your skin. "There you go..." he trails, eyes bright with care.

You feel like a child being doted on, the mere emotion plunging you back to when you were 5 and had crushes on boys who shared skittles with you.

"Thanks."

Felix's ears perk up at the courtesy, you were never one to express yourself easily and when you did, every time, he felt inexplicably delighted.

The apples of your cheeks feel hot for some reason, by putting yourselves in in these small situations, you keep confusing him, you know, because you keep confusing yourself too.

You come out again that night but this time Bang Chan is shifting around in the kitchen. He hardly sleeps, you observe, but probably refusing to come out because he wanted to avoid bumping into you.

Chan doesn't seem to like you very much. Probably. You don't blame him. Before you came along, Felix and he spent more time together, now you had become a constant in his life without will.

You have to listen twice to realise he's speaking with you. Not an invisible being behind you.

"What?"

"I said..." His tone dropped dangerously low, he looks annoyed at something. "Listen I don't care what you're doing but don't hurt him." He's wearing a black t shirt and a pair of pajama shorts with cartoon wolves littered all across the baby blue fabric. He's trying to appear intimidating. It's not really working.

You stifle a laugh.

Frankly had you not known how deeply he cared for Felix, you'd not have cared about his advice. Or warning....?

"Fine," you respond, watching as the tension visibly left his body with one bating breath. "I hope this isn't about me stealing your yoghurt though."

"It's a little about stealing my yoghurt," he jokes, you think he's one of those people who'd apologise if you punched them in the face and spat in their drink. It's interesting...

Chan laughs a little. His eyes sparking with amusement for the first time of all the times he's looked at you. Did he trust your word that much?

—

"He talks about you a lot you know,"

You nearly spit out your drink. Seungmin isn't exactly the densest guy you know. Far from it exactly and he isn't discreet either. So your first instinct is to think he knows something.

You watch Felix from a distance, a solo cup in hand, he's laughing at something Hyunjin said, there's a crinkle along the bridge of his nose and his upper lip curls upwards to reveal his teeth. In reality, in everyone's eyes, your lives are separate. They walk on eggshells around you still...you assure yourself there's no way anyone could've guessed.

So you play dumb, glugging the whiskey into your cup. It spills around the edges, landing on the semi-lit neon counter.

"Who?"

Seungmin blinks at you. An unreadable expression on his face.

"Jisung." He says, "Who else?"

You feel yourself getting less excited, the breath you were unconsciously holding passing your entire form. Jisung is the newest addition to your life, a performing arts student who offered to portrait model for a project you'd been given in class. He's cute, forward, which you like a lot. And you notice whilst using him for inspiration, that he looks at you just as attentively as you had at him.

Only for different reasons.

Jisung asks for your number. You say yes. Half-heartedly. Though at the forefront of your mind you keep comparing everyone to the guy you go home to ever so often, you pick out their flaws and their perfections and you think to yourself he isn't like this, he is like this.

"Yeah?" You pose, sipping and wincing. "What did he say?"

"Just the usual stuff...." Seungmin tilts his head, he's not drinking tonight because he has an exam tomorrow. You think it's a little funny that he's carrying around water in a solo cup. "But I can tell he has the hots for you,"

You laugh this time. That's no surprise to you. "Well he's not so bad himself."

Seungmin narrows his eyes, shooting you a suspicious look.

"Of course you'd say that...." He taunts, "Heard you guys hung out...how was that by the way?"

"It was alright. Sort of just...happened. We bumped into each other and he offered to buy me dinner."

"And you...said yes?"

You give him a blank look, sarcasm dripping from your monotonous sentences, how else would you have spent time together?

"No, I didn't, Seungmin,"

The owner of the name rolls his eyes at your satirical comment, "No need to be mean, I'm just a little surprised is all."

"Surprised?"

You raise an eyebrow, Felix is still in your line of sight, it looks like he's stalling, waiting for your conversation to end so you could leave. He glances at you a few times and you quickly text him a 5 more minutes. "Why's that?"

"Cause every time you start to have feelings for someone, you take one step forward and ten steps back," he points out, "Think about it...you haven't been in like an....actual relationship after...well, you know," he postulates.

You glare at Seungmin, your pride somewhat injured.

"Hey! I've....dated."

"No....you slept around with people, that's not the same as dating." He retorts.

You snort.

Wouldn't you know.

Minho changes an upbeat pop song to something mellow. It's in a foreign language...maybe Spanish, you understand nothing but you don't have to to know it's a sad tune, the lyrics coming together in a melancholic harmony. Your eyes drift away, you feel your attention falter.

It was not unknown for you to have absolute control over your life, be it living your days by strict routine or building such a sturdy pretentious armour around yourself so that your organic self remained unscathed underneath. You had learnt the hard way that being yourself in front of other people would only bring you hurt...but if no one really knew you, no one could hurt you.

This game of hide and seek had become such a long standing practise in your life that it disconnected who you are from who you pretended to be. And every time the extent of your actual desires, monsters much beyond your control rose to the surface, they brought you shame, disgust.

You found those pretences withering away, the shell of protection around you falling apart whenever the thought of Felix crossed your mind. — his heavy noise of content against your neck, his fingers curling into your sheets, his open mouthed kiss against the arch of your hipbone, everything and anything...you had again, despite all your abrasions, become madly consumed by him.

And you must admit to yourself that you are becoming quite ridiculous because of it.

In this strange moment, you realise you almost need Felix to harp on about you even though you specifically asked him to keep all that you have a secret. You want his friends to come scurrying to you to start telling you that he cares so much he can't keep his mouth shut, to be so enamoured with you that his innermost feelings become painfully apparent, that it's utterly stupid of you to not see how he feels about you.

That's not how it goes though. Stuff like that only happens in movies.

Felix responds, texting, "Take all the time you need." Surprised, you steal a glimpse of him, but only when Seungmin isn't looking. You didn't know what you expected, something more crude, that would give away that he was jumping on the balls of his feet to only get into your pants, that would remind you that Felix is nothing but your fuck buddy. You find that you always look for reasons to resent him....because if you did, it meant that you didn't have to acknowledge how you're still in love with him.

You knew what you were in for. And hoping, wanting something more....is no more than wishful thinking.

Felix smiles at you, a genial smile, a simple curve along the corner of his lips which conveys patience, but also something deeper, like...understanding.

Again no matter how much you pushed him away he seemed to find his way back to you in some fashion, just to convey that your union is not all as black and white as you told yourself it was.

You down the entire drink in one swig. Seungmin makes a face at you, the kind he makes when you stick your fries in ice cream for shits and giggles,

"Well....we broke up a long time ago," You hiss at the awful taste stinging your throat, sounding slightly angry. You can't believe it matters still, but when you've been clutching onto something for too long, be it a painful emotion or a memory...you start to think it's the locus of your life, an integral part of you. It terrifies you to think who you'd become without it — vulnerable, malleable, sensitive.

You can't do that again.

The last few weeks, regardless of how good they were, didn't change a thing.

It couldn't. You wouldn't let it.

Seungmin is right, you think, you are taking ten steps back. Just not in the context he thought.

"There's no reason I shouldn't start now."

—

Turns out there is a reason.

Jisung asks you out the next day. He's so friendly that you feel overwhelmed. At all times of the day, he dresses like a frat boy out on his morning jog. A nike running shirt and loose fitted trousers, a baseball cap worn the other way around...it's a little silly.

You don't mind it, having the kind of apathy you would have towards someone you don't know very well.

Everything with him feels new, awkward. But also slightly exciting. He talks too much when he's nervous and you notice that he's almost always nervous because of your personality, as though he can't really put a finger on you and doesn't know what to do about it. Besides...he’s not a horrible kisser either, you muse, he just doesn’t know what you want.

Yet whenever you heard yourself thinking those compliments, you couldn't help but feel utterly guilty, a strangely deep seated feeling that you were doing something wrong.

Why did you feel this way....

Felix isn't your boyfriend anymore. You don't owe him any form of loyalty. You knew that. You're someone who sticks to their gut feelings and your gut had decided that something about seeing Jisung didn't feel right and not just because of Felix, but because you're not interested in a relationship just yet. And you're sure he could tell you aren't, he shouldn't quite expect a call back anytime soon.

"I had a nice time," you say, because it's true. He took you out for ice cream and bought you candy floss when you stared at it for too long.

When Jisung doesn't respond for a hot minute, you follow his trail of vision, which instead of focusing on you, has shifted to the semi-lit backdrop of your apartment. He's too obvious.

"Do...you want to come in?"

He flounders a little at your suggestion, embarrassed. "Would that be alright?....if I did...."

"That depends, are you gonna kill me?"

You say with a straight face. No matter much Jisung prodded at your exterior, you wouldn't budge, like you usually hadn't. Unravelling isn't really your thing so....he can't tell if you're kidding or not.

"No...?"

You snort, "Why do you sound so unsure?"

Jisung's face has grown impossibly red, he could feel his ears burning in indescribable shame. You just have this air about you that makes you incredibly hard to read and it's really attractive.

"I....I didn't..."

You keep your voice, steady, calm, "Relax," "I'm just screwing with you," you say, stepping aside for him to enter, "Make yourself at home."

—

You suppose you were born to study the arts.

You never could consider yourself a studious being. When you were in school, you remember falling behind in classes where the arduous process of revising was required, say mathematics or the sciences even.

Though that realisation hadn't come to you naturally.

Your parents wouldn't take kindly to you not taking up a "well paying" profession and you fell victim to the constant barrage of criticisms, of mockery which ultimately conditioned you to think some part of you, a large part just wasn't good enough.

And with Felix gone....

You were at your worst.

The two years you spent without him were the hardest, a set of years that obliged you to protect yourself from all the hurt around you, inside you. And while the security that you provided yourself is undoubtedly necessary for well...anyone, the process itself had its wicked way of rendering you unspeakably lonely.

You agreed to apply as an engineering major to gain your parents' approval and then transferred to the arts department by the time you'd successfully moved out. You haven't spoken to them ever since...and it hurt you more than you would deign to admit.

When your mum drops over for a surprise visit and chances upon your ex-boyfriend loitering about in your kitchen, fixing up midnight munchies, she takes a natural guess that you've gotten back together. (Which you think is far more agreeable than the truth. Knowing your mother, a staunch supporter of your relationship with him, she wouldn't take lightly to your arrangement.) And before you know it, you're all having dinner.

Felix makes an effort to dress up well, discarding his usual hoodies and joggers for a more formal look, you suspect it has something to do with the fact that you haven't attended any casual settings with him since you broke up.

Cutlery clinks against ceramic, coming down with a semi-loud thump as you try to swallow the enormous lump in your throat. Your mum makes a passing jab at you, saying how you had settled for a much "easier" major than say architecture or philosophy, she bitterly mentioned that everything worked out in the end. After all, your choice is a "much fitting" field of study for someone of your caliber, backhandedly insinuating that you're far too stupid to pursue anything else.

What inspires hilarity is how those insults still affected you. In front of Felix, you act like these few years have brought the fighter out in you and here you are trying to blink away the onslaught of tears prickling your vision. It feels like someone stripped you off your skin, off your flesh and picked out all your shortcomings for him to see.

You expect him to stay quiet, you expect him to think of you as the utterly shameful, selfish being you tell yourself you are,

But Felix's fingers find your shaky knuckles under the table where they rest on your knee, he implants the weight of them in a reassuring squeeze. "Well I think it's great," he says instead, smiling cheerfully at your mum. To which she, for the lack of support, sheepishly beams at him, "Not many people have the drive to do what they want to do. Or know what they want to do...take it from me, Missus [.....]" He laughs nonchalantly, the hairs on the back of your neck standing to attention upon hearing the lovely sound. You always liked his laugh, the sound rippling against your naked skin, thick baritone when he'd just woken up and a kiddish falsetto when he's extremely happy.

You wonder when you started paying so much attention.

Felix glances at you, lingering for a long minute."I bet it took a lot of guts."

You feel your chest constrict with a sudden surge of emotion from the mere look, you can't remember if the Felix you knew in the past, or anyone for that matter, had ever beamed at you with such pride.

You wonder what he'd think if he knew about Jisung, why you had neglected to tell him at all....you knew, because this little moment is precious to you and you had no reason to tarnish it. Not when you had time.

You tilt your head, using your free hand to hastily find the back of his neck, drawing closer to him with little strength. The more he realised what you're doing, the more excited he got. See he found your newly introduced public display of affection immensely attractive, though obviously embarassed by the sudden motion...

You can do crazy things sometimes. Really crazy things. In public and he has never opposed to such exhilarating things, be it in restrooms or even in a similar setting when you were dating, there was a certain thrill to it which drove him to the brink of insanity. Felix would silently implode your attention when you were alone and when you were out in the open, in whichever way he was to receive it, the way which insinuated you were his was the best of them all. All that was fine though...because it was just the two of you.

But now...in this indecent time, he wishes he could hear what you're thinking.

Had... had you gone completely mad?! Your mum is looking!

Your face is stoic, Felix's mouth parts, then you reach over and kiss him shamelessly.

Over the years, all the things that have caused you pain were things you had endured on your own, in his absence. This realisation alone invites a heavy conviction inside you.

Because you know it just as well as he does, no matter how sincere he is to you — you don't need Felix. Not really.

But you want him.

—

You do a stupid thing. A stupid endearing thing and Felix's heart beats like it would jump out of his mouth if he opened it.

It was meant to be a secret, what you two have, a matter of uncomplicated lust which didn't require the attention of anyone because it initially or so you put it, wasn't important enough.

Then you charge to him, he supposes it has a little to do with the person who was blatantly flirting him in the middle of Changbin's Halloween party, he doesn't care though.

You don't like embarrassing yourself, so he doesn't actually expect you to wear a black cat hairband matching his white ears and feline tail. Felix wants to think it means something, how despite the coos and the caas, the giant wave of surprise washing over your friends, you interlace your fingers within his and kiss his cheek.

He doesn't what that makes the two of you now... but he would give you all the time in the world to figure that out if it meant you could be his again.

—

You trace your fingers against outline of his face. Splatters of moist moonlight kissing the high rise of his cheeks, dusting along the long fringe of lashes which cast shadows along his skin, his freckles are like dots of bronze dispersed on his skin. He's beautiful like this.

"You're thinking too much," he says with his eyes closed, smiling a little. "Don't think so much."

You laugh. "Or what, huh?"

Felix cracks an eye open, his grin big, kiddish. "I was hoping you'd say that," he rubs the tip of his nose against your collarbone, he snuggles closer to your chest. What you hadn't expected was how he shifted his entire weight onto you, lying entirely atop you as though he were a starfish.

You couldn't stop laughing at the motion, it's so cheesy and gross...you love it.

—

Here's something you don't know — Jisung tells his friends everything, about making out with you and taking you out...everything. News travels fast. Faster than you anticipated. Despite wanting to divulge the matter, you were too taken by the recent shifts in your feelings to confess to your little interaction. You had told yourself again and again — a little later, just a little later and I’ll tell him.

It could be too late now.

The entire campus knew of your little rendezvous, shooting you curious looks... it's not until Minho comes up to verify the floating rumours do you all but sprint to Felix's place. You think of Chan's trusting eyes, of don't hurt him, of laughing in the intimacy of your bedroom and swiping your fingers down his spine like you were trying to commit the undulating design to memory.

You're not sure where it all began.

but you don't want it to end.

Felix doesn't answer your calls or your messages. When he buzzes you up, just from his gait, just from the resigned look in his eyes, you know he knows.

You watch as he listlessly leaves you to enter, walking before you without saying as much as a word.

You grab Felix’s elbow, making him stop in his tracks. He looks at your fingers wrapping around the muscle, shrugging you off easily. It’s just a small gesture but its impact is so large...that you feel your heart break into a million pieces.

You had never seen Felix being so quiet, even when he was down, he found a manner to radiate a form of optimistic energy which baffled you. You can’t believe how much you could have possibly hurt him. 

 “I can explain.” you gulp, “We went out on one date. It wasn’t because I liked him, I know it’s stupid and...I should’ve told you. I’m sorry, that's not an excuse, but you have to trust me when I say it didn’t...it doesn’t mean anything to me—”

“Did you sleep with him?”

With his back turned away, he still isn’t looking at you, speaking to you with a surprisingly stable tone.

“No.”

Felix takes a shuddering breath, one which expresses the small relief of knowing that Jisung hadn’t seen, touched you, felt you in the way that he only had, but there’s still so much more he wants to know. 

“Did he make you laugh?” 

It’s a silly question, he realises belatedly but he can’t help it. Some part of him, a large part, thinks he’d be more hurt if you made someone happy and they made you happy than if you fucked them.

You shake your head even though he can’t see you. “He didn’t.”

Your fingers again reach for his, wrapping your index into his thumb. You slowly move your hands to his middle, clutching him close to your chest, chin hooking into his shoulder, suddenly...you feel him melt into the embrace. Felix’s voice falters for the first time, small trembles against you. You’re willing to answer all his queries if it could put his mind at ease. You put your heart on hold for too long.

"Do you hate me...?" He sniffles.

You blink....did you?

Felix had changed, like you, he had matured, the past version of him you had so stubbornly ingrained in your endless inner monologue is not the one you grew all too familiar with...

Familiarity does breed contempt, does it not? Well you think the line between love and contempt is untraceable, melded together as a mysterious whole. After all those years, you were still angry, still filled to the brim with contempt for him and more importantly, yourself because you still love him much more than you'd like to admit. After all you've been through. After all this time. The need to love him ultimately encompassed every other emotion which posed itself as a hindrance.

So the opposite of love, the absence of love, you think, isn't hate, it's indifference. An emotion you never felt towards him.

Felix has wedged himself into every aspect of your life, tainted every portion of your routine in his presence and in his absence.

You don't think you'd have it another way.

"You broke my heart," you explain, "I was angry....but I could never hate you for the sake of hating you."

"I can't..." Felix whispers, twisting his body so he could look at you now, “I can’t promise you that it won’t be hard but I'm not—I’m not going anywhere...you know that right?”

You lean your forehead against his, his eyes shifting to your mouth, hands rising to wrap around your neck. You smile.

“I know.” you say, "Me neither."

“I love you...” He says in a small voice, putting his hand against your knuckles. “Do you love me?”

Your eyes soften, cupping his face like this — carefully collecting a lone tear with your thumb before it could touch his cheek. This time there is not a shred of hesitancy, no pause, no pondering before you say, 

“I never stopped.”

—

You enter in a blind rush of panic, thinking you might miss your ride, feet knocking together, elbows hitting elbows, bustling all around you and the sudden overwhelming stench of people hit you, it’s not an ideal setting, not at all actually. 

But you couldn’t bother to be displeased a second you spent with him. A teenager rolls her eyes at how disgustingly in love you are, elderly couples tutting under their breath...albeit, you don’t fail to notice their subtle smiles, small shake of their heads which attested to the fact that the joy you both radiate is.. absolutely infectious. You stumble with him behind, Felix is laughing breathlessly, bumping into your chest as the train suddenly starts moving, you place a finger on his cheek and he raises his chin to look at you.

“Did you eat?” he repeats, mocking himself, a dialogue from a time which seems an element of the distant past replaced by a love which compensated for every hitch in your relationship. You still argue, still disagree and still make up the same. Felix was right, it isn’t easy.

But when two people love each other as much as you do,

it’s worth trying. With every fibre of your being.

“No.”  You laugh, playing along, “But I could, with you.”