#myself for that train of thought even occurring to me in the first place

[spoondrifts]

wish there was somewhere i could talk freely about my body image issues without feeling like a waste of space attention seeking lazy fuck

[pmpmyread]

Perfect Matcha

Nanami Kento x f!reader, fluff.

It first happened on a relatively quiet late spring afternoon, a mere few weeks after you’d started your teaching role at Tokyo Jujutsu High.

Following a long morning spent leading arduous combat training sessions, you saw no better way to reward yourself than with your go-to midday beverage, comprising a freshly made cup of matcha green tea, a treat that you were in the middle of preparing, when the fellow sorcerer you’d only distantly known as Nanami-san at the time joined you in the school break room.

He greeted you with a polite nod, which you returned, all the while catching the way his gaze appeared to linger on the bowl in which you were whisking the powdered tea with your bamboo whisk. Out of your peripheral vision, you watched him reach for the coffee pot that sat on the counter between you. His fingers hovered over the handle as he appeared to hesitate for a brief moment before pulling away and grabbing a tea bag from a cupboard above instead.

As he stood next to you, waiting for the electric kettle he’d just set to boil, you could feel Nanami’s intent gaze on you. The whisking process that usually came to you as second nature suddenly turned into a task that rendered you slightly self-conscious, and you even sounded out the zig-zag pattern of movement in your head to maintain your focus. 

Following what you were convinced was the longest time that kettle ever took to boil, Nanami added the water to the English breakfast tea bag he had placed into his cup and walked out without uttering a word.

That was… interesting, you thought.

A few similar encounters occurred over the next few weeks, distinct scenarios that always rhymed, an unspoken dance that incorporated two fundamental elements: you carefully preparing your tea and Nanami subtly observing you as you did.

Just maybe not subtly enough.

One day, as you endeavored to prepare what you hoped would be the drink to shake you out of the midday slump you simply could not afford, it was you who you who found Nanami in the break room.

“Good afternoon,” he addressed you first, in a tone had gradually grown more cordial since your first encounter.

Even through his nearly opaque glasses, you could sense his eyes fixed on the small tray carrying your usual tea-making arsenal as you set it on the counter.

As you carefully unloaded your box of powdered tea, along with your whisk, ceramic cup, and matcha scoop, you felt slightly relieved to have found him already pouring himself a cup of coffee — unlike the last time around, you would be spared from having to prepare your tea under Nanami’s Kento’s scrutiny.

That is, until he suddenly poured out the contents of his cup into the sink after a single sip.

You watched incredulously as he rinsed his cup and reached for the kettle.

“Would you like me to add enough water for you too?” he asked suddenly, in an even tone that contrasted what appeared to be his annoyed countenance.

“Oh uh, yes, please. Thanks,” you replied, still taken a bit off-guard.

You carefully scooped out a spoonful of matcha under what you could only assume to be Nanami’s watchful eye, and by the time you gave him a sidelong glance, his attention had returned to the kettle.

Your words spilled out anyway.

“Did someone leave the coffee on to burn again?”

Nanami raised an inquisitive brow. You pointed towards his now empty cup.

“You spilled it out so forcefully, I figured it was burnt or something?”

“Ah, that’s…” He trailed off, clutching his cup. “No, I simply changed my mind,” he replied, appearing to want to add something.

“I hear this machine is notorious for not tasting the best by this time of day. Though I’ve never tested this claim myself, as I’m more of a tea drinker.”

“I’ve noticed that,” he said, as he locked eyes with yours for the briefest of moments. You quickly picked up your chasen and engaged yourself in rapid tapping movements, pretending to break up clumps you knew were no longer there.

“Actually, I’m weaning off coffee,” he added. “I’ve never been big on it, anyway.”

“Is that so? What made you pick this poison in the first place?”

“It’s an old habit I picked up in a past life, an unsustainable fix for unreasonably long nights…” He paused. “And perhaps a misguided aspiration for conformity.”

It was the most you’d ever heard Nanami Kento speak thus far, and you were stunned at the candor he’d displayed in such a few words.

Maybe it was this openness that pushed you to display your own.

“Hojicha or dandelion tea are good tea options to try if you’re looking to curb the need for caffeine. Those may unfortunately be too sophisticated for our humble break room, though. Having seen what they do have available here, your closest option would be the breakfast blend, which I see you’ve already been drinking,” you said as you gestured toward the tea bag he was holding.

He nodded, and you continued.

“Barring those… matcha is always a fantastic alternative to coffee. It holds many similar benefits, without the drawbacks.”

“That’s good to know.” The kettle came to a halt, and he handed it to you.

“It’s been a while since I’ve made one of my own,” he said as he watched you pour in a small amount of water before handing it back to him. “It’s pretty simple once you get the hang of it.” You began whisking, kicking off an impromptu demonstration Nanami never explicitly asked for, taking his seemingly undivided attention as a signal to continue. He listened as you explained every step, offering tips on how to keep things relatively low maintenance for an office kitchen environment, in contrast with the slightly longer process you took at home. He watched as you enacted the dance of whisking the mixture of matcha and hot water until it started forming small frothy bubbles, cadenced zig-zag motions punctuated by the occasional circular swirl to collect any remnants lingering on the edges. “This is where one could add some warm milk to make it a latte, but if I were to guess, I’d say that’s not you.” “When I do take my coffee, it’s usually black.” “I’ve noticed that.” you mirrored his words from earlier, and something about the way he shifted slightly under your lingering glance further emboldened you. “Care to do the honors?” you asked as you grabbed onto the kettle, just under where Nanami’s hand still held on to its handle, gently bringing it towards your cup, causing your fingers to brush ever so slightly. “You can add the water in increments.” He stepped closer and joined your dance, intermittently adding equal amounts of water as you kept whisking away. When the cup was nearly full and the tea ready, you held up the cup towards him to hand it to him. “Oh, I can’t take this,” Nanami said. “Sure you can! I have plenty of time left on my break. I’ll just prepare another for myself.” Noticing his hesitation, you quipped, “You can just owe me and make me one next time, now that I know you could pull it off.” “Then consider me in your debt,” he said as he finally took your cup and brought it up to his lips, just too late to hide the slight smile that tugged at their corners.

You spent several breaks making tea together and discussing various quality grades and complementary flavors. At some point, you’d gifted him a small kit of his own, which he kept in his office and began using daily. You’d even pulled Nanami Kento into the unexplored waters of matcha lattes, a feat you’d once thought to be impossible, and through trial and error, you discovered the exact ratio of almond milk and honey that formed the winning combination to conquer his otherwise recalcitrant taste buds. And Nanami easily conquered your heart.

On the morning following the first night you’d stayed over at his apartment, you found, much to your surprise, an arsenal of teas and teaware that would rival that of the most passionate aficionado.

Upon asking him about it, Nanami initially only copped to having recently invested in the craft. A half-truth, you thought to yourself. Only later that evening, as you found yourself whisking two cups of tea using what were his now unmistakably superior tools, did you decide to gently confront him. “Alright, be honest with me, Kento.” You waited until he looked up and met your gaze, his attention now piqued before continuing. “I did not put you on to matcha, did I?” He returned his attention to cutting the remainder of the fruits he was preparing, appearing to take a moment to think before finally responding. “I don’t believe I’ve ever said you did.” “That wasn’t the question, and you know it. Judging by the damn near professional barista setup you’ve got going here, I suspect that you were a bit more advanced than you’d initially let on.” Your eyes followed Nanami as he turned away, carefully carrying the charcuterie board he’d just assembled to his dinner table.   “I may have dabbled before, but it had been almost a decade since I had made a proper matcha tea, so please believe me when I say that I truly could use the refresher. Besides, I did have a caffeine dependency, which I wouldn’t have curbed if it weren’t for you, my love.” He returned to your side, bringing a piece of strawberry to your mouth, which you opened, perhaps accepting his offering a bit too quickly. A droplet of juice slid right below your lower lip and Nanami was quick to bring his thumb to wipe it off for you, lingering there just a bit longer than needed. You tried to remain impervious to his obvious attempt at diverting from the issue at hand, returning your attention to the teas you were preparing. “Sweet words and gestures won’t lessen such damning confessions. So, I’m just your accountability partner, then?” “I’d say you’re a little more than that now,” he teased. You failed to conceal your true feelings for the second time that night, as you slid one teacup towards him. “You do realize I have no reason to make these for you anymore, right?” you said, quickly grabbing yours and heading towards the dinner table to hide your heated face. “You’re clearly the expert between the two of us, so it really should be the other way around.” He joined you at the table, sitting beside you. “Yours always taste better.” “I doubt that. I could never match your precision, Mr. 7:3 sorcerer. And a simple web search would have exposed you to better, more professional demonstrations in a matter of seconds.” “I wanted to learn it your way.” “What?” “Your method intrigued me, and so did you,” he said, dipping a cube of bread into the whipped feta and closing his eyes as he savored it. Nanami’s words were uttered so simply, so casually, and without fanfare, they were laden with a deep sentiment and meaning divulged both in the words that were unsaid and in the sincerity of the few that were. It was not a grandiose declaration, but to you, it felt every bit like one. “And how’s the learning experience going so far?” you asked, breaking the comfortable silence that had settled between you. Nanami opened his eyes, locking them with yours. “You tell me.” 

[ceesimz]

Relationship Test

(this isn't gonna be the most description-heavy fic, it's mostly dialogue but I wanted to write this because I think the dynamic of 'gf asking stupid questions to annoy their partner' is really entertaining)

Realistically, Leah should have known from the moment the following question came out of your mouth that you were about to enter an incredibly annoying phase.

"Leah, if I was any supermarket, out of all the ones in the UK, which one would I be?"

She simply turned her head to look at you, completely thrown off by the question. A few moments passed by of her trying to suss you out, figuring out what on earth she should reply to that, before she paused the show you were both watching and took a deep breath.

"Is this a joke or is that a genuine question babe?" She finally replied.

You shrugged a shoulder, fighting off a grin, and looked expectantly at her.

"A genuine question."

Leah once again just stared at you. Where to even begin? Surely, there was no right answer here.

"What one do you think you would be?" She deflected the question, but you just shook your head.

"Good try, but I asked you."

She groaned and threw her head back.

"My love, I have absolutely no idea! I don't look at you and think, 'ah yeah, you are an Aldi', I don't know what you're trying to get at!" She cried out, eyes wide and hands gesturing wildly.

"An Aldi?" You gasped, dramatically feigning offence, even going so far as bringing a hand to your chest to give the full effect. "Leah, that's fucking low!"

"No, I didn't call you an Aldi, babe, I just used it as an example because it's a weird question to ask!"

"Yeah but that was the first one that came to your head! An Aldi, really? Unbelievable. I thought you would have valued me higher than that. Maybe a Tesco at least, but nooo, my girlfriend thinks I'm an Aldi." You sighed and refused to meet her gaze, turning to the paused TV screen and smiling to yourself as you heard her take a deep breath.

"Darling, you are a woman, not a supermarket. I value you higher than I value you myself, okay? It was just a silly question, let's not think too deeply about it." You shook your head once more and stood up from your place on the sofa, storming out the room. "No, babe, where are you going?"

Before you rounded the corner of the lounge, you sent her a cheeky grin and laughed.

"Just the toilet, Le, don't worry." You stated simply, then walked out.

That left the blonde sat stressing to herself whilst also being utterly perplexed at what had just occurred. When you walked back in a few moments later, she still looked visibly shell-shocked, which you couldn't help but giggle at.

"Earth to my girlfriend?" You teased, slotting yourself onto her lap and knocking on her forehead with a knuckle.

"You are something else, I swear." She sighed, a humoured smile on her face as she placed a kiss on your cheek.

Leah survived all of two days before the next one was fired her way, this time, on the drive home from Arsenal training. The pair of you were exhausted, having had a match the day before then being thrown into early morning training the next day. But that didn't stop you from exercising your newfound love.

"Hey Le?" You start, Leah humming. "If I died, would you fall in love again with another person?"

Leah's eyes almost popped out of their sockets at that one. She was still driving, so she couldn't even take a glance at you as she navigated through the London traffic.

"Sorry?" She choked out, sitting up in her seat.

"Would you move on and find another person after me?"

"Is this... a test?" Leah wondered, and it's so hard not to laugh at the hint of nerves clear in her voice.

"I'm just curious." You shrugged nonchalantly.

"I... well, that's a bit of a loaded question, babe." She breathed out, eyebrows furrowed down as she's overridden with countless thoughts. "I mean, first of all I'd be fucking devastated, my love."

"Not what I asked." You told her, to which she panicked more.

"I..." She stuttered over an answer. "I don't know, it would depend I guess?"

"Are you serious?" You begin to argue, Leah wincing and slouching her shoulders. "What do you mean?"

"I have no clue, babe! Sorry for not giving a valid answer, because I don't want to think about you dying!"

"Chill, Le, I'm just teasing you." She dropped her head back against the head rest and groans.

"You are gonna be the death of me." Leah grumbled, glancing at you out of the corner of her eye.

"But seriously though, would you?"

"I swear to f-"

That last one was indeed a bit loaded, so you gave her a week's respite before the next one came. This time? In the cinema, as the adverts played before your chosen film.

"Love?" You whispered, nudging her arm that held her phone. She put it down on the arm rest and turned to you with a soft smile. "I've had a thought that's been plaguing me a bit recently."

"You wanna talk about it here?" Leah frowned, gently taking your hand as you nod. "Okay, my darling, out with it."

"Do you prefer my face or my body?"

Leah stared at you for a solid ten seconds before her body deflated and she dropped your hand. She chuckled to herself and pinched the bridge of her nose, mumbling something under her breath.

"This is another one of those questions, innit." She sighed, turning to you to get confirmation. However, you offered no emotion or reaction. "Tell me, for this one, if this is a genuine... insecurity I need to tackle properly, or if this is another bullshit question."

"I want to know, Leah." You stated. She still couldn't tell if you were serious.

"I prefer your face, my love." She replied truthfully, because that was genuinely her answer.

"Why?" You challenged, still void of emotion.

"Because... that's what I fell in love with first. Your eyes and all the emotions you hold in them, not to mention how beautiful they are. Your smile that immediately makes me smile no matter what I'm going through. Your little freckles, your nose, your eyelashes that I'm still jealous of to this day. Your face was the first impression I got of you, my first glimpse getting to know you. So if you held me at gunpoint and told me to choose, I would say your face. Your body is absolutely beautiful and incredible of course, but you could have no arms and eleven toes and I'm almost certain I'd still love you." Leah answered.

To be honest, that is definitely not what you were expecting. You didn't think a stupid question found in a Tik Tok video captioned 'Questions To Start An Argument' could lead to such a heartfelt admission.

"Oh." Was all you said. "I was supposed to argue back at you."

"What?" She laughed, wrapping an arm around your shoulder and pecking your cheek.

"I was supposed to argue and say 'so you don't like this or that about my body' but you kind of took my breath away." You explained with a sheepish smile on your face.

"My love, you know I think you're the most beautiful woman in the world, both your face and your body, but if I could only have one forever, it would be your face. Zero hesitation." Leah admitted. You blushed heavily and hid your face in her neck. "Not to say I wouldn't miss your body. You would miss it too, I know you love when I-"

"Nope!" You slapped a hand over her mouth, knowing exactly where this conversation was heading. "Just because we are in the back row of a cinema does not mean you can start saying things like that."

Leah smirked behind your hand and shrugged a shoulder.

"Your loss, baby."

The next one came when you lay awake in bed with Leah one morning a few days later. You were both lay on your stomachs, your hand gliding over Leah's back under her shirt as you gave her the back scratches she demanded with the promise of paying for breakfast in return. Admittedly, you were more of a morning person than Leah was, hence why the following question came to your mind at 8am whilst she could barely think. Was it possibly a bit unfair to ask such a layered question at a time you knew her mind wasn't as sharp as it could be? Absolutely not.

"Leah, could we discuss a hypothetical situation for a moment?" You asked. She opened one eye and looke at you with a face of disgust.

"Too early." She grumbled, closing her eye again and sighing.

"Okay." You left it for a few moments, before asking anyway. "If someone offered you money to go completely non-contact with me for three months, what's the lowest amount of money you'd accept it for?"

"What?" Leah glared at you, resting up on her elbows as she pushed her hair back out of her face. You went to repeat the question, but she shook her head and interrupted you. "I heard you. I mean, what the fuck kind of question is that?"

"Just curious." You shrugged, shifting to lay on your back and look up at her.

"I wouldn't do that." She said, plain and simple.

"It's only three months. What if it was for like, a million? That's three months of doing nothing for a ton of money, babe. That's a life-changing amount of money." You commented with a grin.

"Would you accept that?" She asked, outraged.

"Of course!" You answered immediately. Leah shook her head and threw the duvet off of her, jumping out of bed. "Come ooooon! You'd accept that too, surely?"

"You are a fucking wind-up." She grumbled, stepping into her slippers and leaving the room.

You stayed in bed with an amused smile, settling back down and wrapping yourself up with the duvet, until a voice came from the other room.

"I'd do it for free if you keep up with these stupid questions!"

At that, you jumped out of bed and ran to meet her in the kitchen, an endless amount of colourful expletives leaving your mouth on the way there.

A busy few weeks followed that morning, so your habit took a backseat to focus on an intense set of games. It slipped your mind completely, until one night when some of the Arsenal girls were around at Leah's apartment, waiting to watch one of the men's champions league games. When a multitude of irritated groans echoed around the lounge at the announcement of the game being postponed for a short while, you grinned to yourself from your place on the sofa beside Leah.

"Girls, I know how to keep us entertained in the meantime." You announced.

"We can't do karaoke again, last time I almost got kicked out of the flat." Leah looked at you with a raised eyebrow in warning.

She was referring to an incident that occurred a few months back - a team bonding evening where you, Leah, and the majority of your teammates had a movie night that led to an intense karaoke session. Consequently, a few of the neighbouring apartments reported such event to the building's security team which resulted in a knock at Leah's door and a noise complaint letter being handed to her.

"Not karaoke, babe. Something better." You wiggled your eyebrows at the other girls and stood up from your seat. "Le, come on, help me get two stools from the kitchen."

"What are you planning?" She asked in a hushed tone as you led her to the kitchen.

"You'll see." You shrugged with a smirk, picking up one of the chairs and gesturing for Leah to do the same. Then, you wandered back to the lounge and placed your stool down in front of the TV, Leah doing the same. "Leah, take a seat."

Some of the girls whispered between themselves at the scene carrying out in front of them, getting a great view of what was about to occur.

"Babe, I swear-"

"Sit down, Leah Williamson!" You demanded, grabbing your phone from the couch.

"Oo, government name!" Beth teased, Leah glaring at her and doing as she was told.

You sat there in silence for a brief moment, trying to find the list on your phone that had been neglected for a little while. Once you'd found it, you looked at Leah across from you in her chair and cleared your throat.

"Leah, this is a relationship test." You stated.

Leah's face fell as the girls laughed loudly at her reaction, her mouth opening and closing like a goldfish whilst she tried to find a response.

"Right now?" She replied, you nodding with a smug grin.

"Yep. I have a series of questions for you that you must answer. No cop-outs, no deflections, just the truth."

"This is gonna be good." Jen smirked, knowing what was about to occur. It had been her that sent you the video about it in the first place, little did she know she had planted such an entertaining seed in your mind.

"Ready?" You asked with an excited smile.

"No, I never agreed to this!" Leah cried out, looking helplessly at her teammates who simply laughed again.

"Suck it up, Leah!" Steph shouted, Beth grinning manically from beside her.

"First question!" You announced, the room falling quiet. "What is your biggest fear?"

"That's not a relationship question!" Kyra exclaimed, earning a smack on the knee from Caitlin.

"I don't know, dying?" Leah replied with a shrug.

"Wrong!" You respond.

"How's that wrong, it's my fear?!" She cried.

"The correct answer was: losing me." You revealed, the room bursting into laughter. You couldn't help yourself and joined in too as Leah groaned and covered her face with her hands.

"I know what this is gonna be now." She grumbled, looking back at you and waiting for the next question.

"Next question." You said, silencing the room. "If a genie offered you three wishes, but if you accepted them, there was a ten percent chance you lost me forever, would you take them?"

"Yeah because I would use a wish to get you back." Leah said with a shrug, thinking she had caught you out.

"Wrong. That's not possible." You shook your head shamefully at her.

"And how was I supposed to know that then?" She hit back, but you shrugged back at her.

"Not my problem." You stated as the girls laughed at Leah's eye roll. "Next. Would you rather never play football again or never have sex with me again?"

That one almost knocked Leah off her seat.

"How am I supposed to answer that?" Her cheeks were bright red as she argued, completely at a loss for words right now.

How had a quiet night watching the football, turned into her being the butt of the joke?

"You have to answer it, love." You lowered your phone and fixed her with a pressuring glare, everyone else in the room looking at her expectantly as they held in their laughter.

"Babe, I..." She stuttered, glancing around at her peers with a frantic look in her eyes.

"You're gonna be in the doghouse, Leah." Katie kindly reminded her, followed by a few muffled laughs from some of them.

"Never play football again." Leah answered in a nervous voice.

"Wrong!" You sighed, shaking your head.

"How is that- I can't fucking win." She groaned frustratedly and clenched her fists as everyone else once again laughed uncontrollably. "Please explain how that answer is wrong, my love."

"You shouldn't let your attraction to me override your career, my darling!" You told her with a dramatic pout. She couldn't help but chuckle at your reply, now starting to see the humour in this situation.

"Aren't you guys romantic." Beth rolled her eyes and waved you both off. "Move on, next question."

"Alright." You cleared your voice again, choosing your next blow. "If you learned that I had been hired to date you as part of a social experiment for research, would you be able to forgive me?"

"What the fuck!"

You couldn't help it anymore. You burst out laughing along with your friends and covered your face as you did, hearing Leah rant in the background of all the noise. A few moments passed of pure laughter before you sat back up straight and looked at your girlfriend who, if she was in a cartoon, would have literal steam coming out of her ears.

"Your answer, please." You asked impatiently, tapping your foot on the floor.

"Dating you is a social experiment, this is absurd, I mean-"

"Moving on." You ignored her rebuttal. "Would you rather kiss me for £100,000 or the prettiest woman in the world for a million?"

Leah took a deep breath, removing all previous irritation in her bones, before answering confidently.

"Prettiest woman in the world for a million." She stated, waiting for you to correct her.

"Wrong, how fucking rude. Why would you not kiss me?" You challenged with an angry scowl.

"Because you are the prettiest woman in the world." Leah stated simply with a soft smile, causing you to blush. The room was silent for a moment as you both gazed at each other, before the sound of someone jokingly gagging disrupted it.

"Get a room!" Kyra shouted, throwing one of the sofa pillows at you both. Everyone else followed her lead and started teasing you both, but Leah simply smirked and stood up.

"Get a room, you say? Alright."

She shrugged before grabbing your hand and pulling you towards her bedroom. The sounds of the others wolf-whistling and cheering followed you until it was shut out by Leah slamming the bedroom door closed.

"You done testing me now?" She asked with her eyebrows raised, pressing you back against the door and holding you in place by your hips.

"Guess so." You smiled uncontrollably at her, to which she laughed and let out a breath before hiding her face in your neck.

"You're a little shit, you know that?" She said, muffled by your skin.

"I know it, babe. You love me for it." You grinned. Leah lifted her back up and leaned down to press your lips together in a firm but teasing kiss, pulling back sooner than you wanted.

"Damned if I do, damned if I don't, right?"

[songmingisthighs]

Pitiful, You're Pitiful

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ch. iv

group : ateez

pairing : aged up!wooyoung × aged up!reader

genre : angst, mature

word count : 3.9k

warning : adultery, cheating, medical condition (?), negative depiction of wooyoung

a/n : sorry it took a while but life is shit and I've been doing nothing but STRUGGLING. head so overly packed and yet thoughts were not thunken so i decide to finish this chapter. here's to torture ig. help a sister out, send tips so i can drown myself in bubble tea pls

buy me coffee ?

Never would you have expected to be in the exact same place in the exact same situation as before. Well, not the exact same per se, but you thought the same thing couldn't happen twice, you being called to the hospital that is. Apparently, your husband had another accident and since you were his dearest wife and emergency contact, the hospital called you up.

You were not spiteful nor bitter towards your husband, you never were until you found out that he was cheating on you. So the nagging thought in your head that convinced you that he was probably with his mistress when he got hurt again made you feel rather sick to your stomach. Perhaps you had been in some sort of denial while Wooyoung was recovering from his initial injury, thinking that maybe it was only a one-time thing or the cheating had stopped because you hadn't seen him doing anything shady or being secretive during his recovery. In all honesty, you begrudgingly and heartbrokenly expected him to cheat again because the access was just there even with the doubt.

The turmoil plus the morning sickness had taken a toll on you, not to mention the household chores and catering to the man who had broken your trust in him. It hadn't even occurred to you that you probably need to go see your OBGYN again to check up on the baby you had yet to mention to anyone. At this point, the question was whether you will or not. Considering the situation you were facing, the option of running away to Sweden to become a childcare professional seemed very enticing. You wouldn't have to worry about the money to take care of your child or their education, the government will provide and you can visit the original IKEA. But of course that was but a fantasy, you still have responsibilities and unlike some people, you stick to your words.

Arriving at the nurse's station in the emergency room, you huffed and took a moment to take a deep breath, suddenly feeling nauseated and lightheaded. Seeing this, one of the nurses walked around and went over to you, "Miss, are you okay? Do you need emergency care?" the care in her voice, be it due to nurse training or genuine worry made you crack a smile, "No, no, no, I'm- I'm here to see my husband, I got a call that," you cut yourself to swallow the bile that threatened to escape you, willing yourself to finish your sentence, "-That he was rushed here because he got hurt?" Although it was obvious that you were not there as a patient, the nurse shook her head and gently directed you towards the seats nearby, "You need to sit down first, miss," she stated but you shook your head, "No, no, please, I just need to see if he's okay and it's Mrs.," you clarified but did nothing to push back. She wouldn't listen and just sat you down and it was only then did you realized how the world had practically turned into a gyrosphere. "I will check on the name of your husband and I will bring you tea. You look very pale and I don't think we need both you and your husband sick today," she smiled but the words she let out only left a bitter taste in your tongue as the notion that you and Wooyoung were some type of team only made you more aware how much you were not. But you agreed and just smiled back at her, allowing her to return to the station to check on where Wooyoung was and to get you something.

Whilst waiting, you looked around as your mind wandered. For some reason your brain decided it would be a good idea to suddenly think of what's to come. Surely, Wooyoung realized that something had been going on with you which was the reason why he was suddenly being so attentive and tried to get you to speak to him which you had been so adamantly avoid. The thought of Wooyoung potentially badgering you even more because he'll be stuck in the house due to whatever condition he was in made you feel anxious. For the first time ever in your life, you realized that you both wanted your husband to be contained in your house so he would stop his affair but also resented the idea of being stuck there with him.

You stood up and started walked towards the exit, not knowing if you need a breather or to just leave the hospital and deal with Wooyoung later.

Your plan to leave the premises was halted when the curtain to one of the areas was pulled back and a very familiar face stepped out. The face you came to resent despite being fond of it in the first place, when you saw it around 3 years ago when she first came to the company.

For some reason, your legs seemed to freeze and your hands felt cold. At that moment, you truly wanted to leave, run past her and simply leave the premises and maybe just leave your husband because the conversation that happened in front of you was something you didn't want to handle.

Your eyes followed as Harin went over to the nurse's station, smiling to one of the other nurses who was sitting there. "Hi, can you please keep an eye in case the patient in bed number 4 woke up? I'm going to go get something for him to drink. Poor guy left home in a rush to meet me," she said sheepishly but there was a slight bragging undertone that made the nurse cooed slightly. "Don't you worry, Mrs Jung, I'll make sure your husband knows where you are," she smiled. Two times this had happened in the same hospital and it made you sick to your stomach when you saw her beam proudly and thank the nurse before sauntering off.

At that moment you felt numb. It wasn't like you didn't know there was an affair going on, you just never expected to have seen the relationship yourself. Have they talked about commitment? Was that why the little homewrecker thought she was or would be Wooyoung's wife? Was Wooyoung planning on leaving you all along? Had your children slipped Wooyoung's mind for some reason? If you were unsure before, the uncertainty left your body completely as you made up your mind that you had to protect your children and yourself. If Wooyoung was going to leave and start another family with some dumb 20-something with no redeeming value nor moral compass, then you're going to make sure he does it without affecting your children. As redundant as that sounded.

In a blink of an eye, you found yourself next to Wooyoung who was resting. You looked over his body and for once in your life, you suddenly didn't care that he was right there nor what his injuries might be. It didn't matter to you all of a sudden because looking at him only made you aware that he had allowed someone to touch him the way he had once promised only you would be able to. The last time he was hurt on her watch turned out was because of his bad back and with the power of cynical assumption and logical thinking, you imagine he was in some sort of sexual activity with her and this time was no better.

You were so deep in your thoughts that you didn't even realize that Wooyoung had opened his eyes and was staring at you from his position on the bed.

"(y/n)?" he called you, eyes soft as he gazed at the worried look on your face, mistaking it as worry over him, "When did you get here?" he asked, the tone didn't indicate any panic which could be assumed as him not wanting you to see his mistress. Perhaps he was unaware of the particular situation.

The turmoil in your head hadn't died down, it only amplified when Wooyoung talked. Your heart ached to see him looking at you so softly as he had been nothing short of detached from you for a long while. It had to go to this point for him to show you any semblance of closeness or even just a tiny showcase of care. The Wooyoung you were seeing was the Wooyoung you fell in love with, even if it's just a glimpse. The acknowledgement hurt, it hurt you so much and it hurt you deeply.

How surprised you were when your body moved to sit next to him on the bed, quietly taking in his attention on you. "I... I got a call from the hospital saying you got hurt again. Are you okay?" You could see Wooyoung trying to sit up but you held him back, shaking your head because in this position, you felt like you had the upper hand. In this situation, you felt like you could see how small he was. On the other hand, Wooyoung took this as you not wanting him to get hurt again so he laid back down and sighed, "I'm okay I guess," he shrugged. "What happened?" you couldn't help but ask, though you weren't entirely sure if you wanted to know because what if he told you that he was in the middle of doing the nasty with his side bitch and he broke his... equipment or something? "Not sure," he exhaled sharply, "I was talking one moment and when I turned around to leave, I hit my back and I just... Fell."

Lies.

Well, it was the truth from Wooyoung's side at least.

Sure, he completely skipped over the fact that he was in the middle of telling Harin that they should not meet each other for a while and it was because of her trying to stop him that he hurt his back yet again. The moment he fell down was the moment he realized he should've said that he was taking a break from her indefinitely, possibly breaking up with her completely. As if that would make things any better.

"You just... Fell?" you repeated, not sure if you were just echoing, or trying to test him and see if he told you what you thought was the truth, or if you were trying to convince yourself. But Wooyoung nodded, looking sure of his answer too. "Yeah and it hurt so much I think I passed out in the ambulance like a wimp," he chuckled to himself, not knowing that you completely agreed that he was being a wimp but for a whole other reason.

"But you know what," all of a sudden, Wooyoung slinked his hand to hold yours and your body immediately froze be it due to the heavy unsurety or shock, you weren't sure. But you were pretty sure his touch no longer had the effect it once had on you because though this felt like your old Wooyoung genuinely coming back, all you wanted to do was to push him away.

"Though I was scared, though I was in pain, all I could think about was you. I was thinking about how if I was injured again, I would burden you even more, how it would affect you and your daily function," he said, choking up slightly. You have known him long enough to know that the emotion he was showing was genuine. But all it did was piss you off.

"I'm sorry I have been such a burden to you, I've been a tool what with my work and not helping you around. These past three weeks had taught me that you have been holding us together better than I did, better than I ever did actually. And for that, I love you. I love you so much and once this is all over, I want us to return to what we were before or however way you want because you deserve it."

That was a slap to your face.

You deserve it.

It was as if he was saying that you deserved to be cheated by him.

You hadn't realized that you had shed a tear until Wooyoung tried to sit up again but he failed because his back had prevented him. So he gripped the hand in his tighter and reached a hand up to cup your face, wanting to wipe the tear away. But this time, you were the one who took his hand in yours, delightfully surprising him because he thought that you were reciprocating him.

"I..." you took a moment to clear your throat and calm yourself down, not wanting your words to fail you, "I'm so glad to hear that, Wooyoung." A huge smile broke on Wooyoung's face hearing your response to his confession. You too, had a smile on your face, but it was one of sadness, it was one of pain which Wooyoung would have noticed had it not been because he was too involved with his own feelings. "I'm so glad to know that you still cared a lot about me," you sighed.

You knew the words that were at the tip of your tongue would change everything so for the sake of the decades you spent with the man before you, you allowed yourself one final moment to take it all in again. Enjoying the reappearance of your old lover before you go back to reality, the reality he had put you in.

"I know you've been cheating on me."

In an instant, Wooyoung froze.

His smile, present, projected his internal shock and confusion.

"What?" he asked, unsure if he had heard you clearly.

The hand that held his moved to push his bangs aside, allowing him to see how eerily calm you were.

"I... I know you've been cheating on me with someone and that person is here with you. Though I'm not completely sure, I feel like you were with her when you got hurt this time and the last and she had made it a point to tell the nurses that she was your spouse," you chuckled darkly and the sound was so unfamiliar and cold that it struck fear in Wooyoung's heart. "(y/n), I-" "And, you know how she got kicked out not long after? During your first hospitalization? It was because I accidentally told the nurses that I was your wife." The more you talked, the bitter the reality became for you and yet, you can't find it in yourself to stop laughing. "I- I actually thought that you would at least have the decency to stop seeing her when you were resting these past weeks but apparently I was wrong. Just like how I was wrong about having a husband who honours our vows, right? So I'm glad that you told me that you still loved me Wooyoung, no matter how much of a bullshit it was, I'm glad you have just now realized how much I've done for you, for our children, for our family."

The mention of his kids made Wooyoung's eyes widened, thinking that maybe they knew too be it from you telling him or them seeing him with Harin themselves. To make the situation even more nerve-wracking for him, the monitor picked up on his rising heartbeat, allowing you to know just how afraid he was.

"Because as of right now, I am done. I am done being your doormat," you leaned close to him and in a flash, your eyes turned from pain to pure anger, the eyes that used to look at him with love and hope were looking at him in disgust, "As of right now, I am done being your wife," you finally spat before pushing yourself completely off him and the bed, standing up to fix your clothes, "You can go ahead and play house with that homewrecker or whichever whore you want but one thing you won't get is my children and my compassion." Instinctively, your hand fell to your stomach where your newest addition was residing as if promising it that you both would be okay despite everything. "So you take good care of yourself, Wooyoung, or you make sure whoever you choose to be with you next could take care of you, you hear me? Because hell would freeze over before I let myself serve you again."

When you turned around to leave, Wooyoung felt like his world was shaking like a massive earthquake.

"No- wait-" he tried calling for you, he tried getting up again only to wince and fail. All hopes he had that you would still come back to him was crushed when you didn't even look back at his pained cry.

His world came crumbling down when he saw you opening and closing his curtain, leaving him alone in that bed with your words weighing on him like a hundred tons of bricks. Just as he had seen the wrong he did, just as he had decided to come back, karma slapped him so hard, he was sure he wouldn't recover. So he lay there, he laid on his bed with his eyes on the ceiling and he cried silently. The tears stung his eyes but he couldn't bear to wipe them away himself, he couldn't bear to move, not when he realized how fucked he was. How stuck he was.

In a way, you were lucky to be able to leave the premises and possibly choose to just never see Wooyoung again.

Oddly, you hadn't shed a tear despite the fear, pain, sorrow, disgust, confusion, and uncertainty mixing together and creating a tornado of negativity in your head. You thought that you had to keep it all in until you didn't have to attend to your responsibilities which were your children.

Glancing at the clock, you saw that you had a good 2 hours before you had to pick Woohyun up and take him to his after-school class while Dayoung would take the bus with her friends to hakwon. Realizing the vacancy you had, you thought that you could do some good with your time. You could maybe pack your things and your children's things up so when you pick them up, you can take them straight to your parents' house. Or, since you and your children took up the majority, you could pack Wooyoung's things up, drop them at the academy and leave them for the bitty homewrecker with the note 'Have fun with my leftover, whorish bitch'. It was only at that moment did you even think of her and how the affair came to be. You were a firm believer that some feelings are just uncontrollable but ultimately, someone's actions are absolutely controllable. And that bitch and Wooyoung decided to abandon control for whatever reason there is and now they forced your children to be in a broken family. You weren't against divorce, especially if infidelity was involved, you were just against your children having to go through unimaginable pain and having to navigate through life with all sorts of uncertainty.

It astounded you that even after dropping the hammer on your husband (or is it soon-to-be-ex-husband now?), all you could care about were your children and how to help them going forward.

You were so deep in thought that you didn't realize that you were already parked in front of your house for the past 15 minutes, just glaring at the car ahead as if that car was the one who had wronged your family.

A sudden knock from the window on your side caused you to jump in surprise and of course, the official ambassador of Wooyoung's hospitalization showed up.

"Hey, don't you need to get out?" Yunho asked, raising an eyebrow and offering a smile that would've made you chuckle on a normal day. But alas, you were not in the mood.

When you finally got out of the car, you tried your best to avoid being close to Yunho or even to just see Yunho. At that moment, the grass on your lawn seemed more interesting.

"What are you doing here?" you asked, voice void of any emotions. Yunho furrowed his eyebrows and ducked, trying to find your eyes but of course, you were evading it. "Aren't you gonna look at me?" he asked but you immediately shook your head and kept your mouth shut.

There was a long pause because Yunho wanted to hear you speak but you had adamantly stuck to your ground, not wanting to say anything for absolutely no reason at all. It kind of annoyed you how Yunho was there on your most vulnerable days what with being the first to know of your awareness of your husband's infidelity and now he was probably going to be yet another first in knowing that you had just informed your husband that you basically wanted to separate from him permanently. You didn't hate Yunho as a person despite everything, you just hated his timing.

Then he surprised you yet again when he reached forward and gently took ahold of your hand, effectively causing you to look up at him though initially in annoyance but you didn't take your hand from him.

Yunho's mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water, struggling to find the words to use on you. Should he tell you that he had heard what you told Wooyoung at the ER? Should he tell you that he was proud that you were doing something good for yourself? What could he even say to make things better? Your marriage had just ended, there is nothing that could make that fact better because it was a devastating thing for you and you were going to have to go through all sorts of hassle and pain alone while still supporting two children. Well, three, but thankfully that little nugget of information was one that he wasn't privy to.

So rather than trying to comfort you, Yunho just smiled and nodded.

It was the availability of Yunho that broke you. One, two tears dropped down your cheek before you felt the air sucked out of you and the horrifying realization of your action was finally dropped down on you.

"Oh God," you gasped, knees buckling when you started sobbing but Yunho's reflex immediately kicked in and he pulled you into his arms, supporting your weight as you received the immense weight of reality.

Yunho didn't dare say anything, he didn't even dare to comfort you because he knew he couldn't do anything. There was nothing for him to do but to allow you to have your moment and just be there to support you because God knows without him, you wouldn't have the support you need without having to hurt not only yourself all over again, but possibly hurt more people. So at that moment, though it pained him to see such a strong person break down like that, he let things go the way they should because as hard as he was trying to keep the thought down, he knew what he was doing was a good thing.

Unfortunately, the eyes that watched you and Yunho embracing each other so freely in public- in front of the house you shared with Wooyoung, didn't think the same way. The eyes that watched you had misunderstood, thinking that it was you who was unfaithful.

A picture worth a thousand words. And how glad Dayoung was for taking two.

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[jsprnt]

Americano PT. 13 | Jude Bellingham x Reader

What happens if two individuals who absolutely despise each other are forced to interact after unforeseen events occur?

A/N: took me so so long, but I think the wait was worth it. 😭 let me know what you think, love u!😉

W/C: 4.072

part twelve

"Okay, is there anything left for me to do?"

I raise my head, looking up at my dad from my phone. The stack of papers on the dining table immediately giving me a headache.

"Are you asking me, dad? Or are you talking to yourself?" I ask, getting up from my position on the couch to see what his mid-life crisis is about.

"Myself.." He replies, bringing the ugly ceramic mug I’d decorated at the age of five up to his mouth.

The blue cursed-looking unicorn, with the biggest red eyes staring back at me, makes me clear my throat.

I mean, even I would have thrown that thing away after my child forgot about it.

"What are you doing?" I ask, leaning forward to flip through the stacks of paper.

Poor trees...

"Stop messing with them, y/n. They are important documents for work.."

I hum in understanding, holding my hands up in surrender.

"You're really killing off nature with these.." I add, scratching my itchy nose.

"Will you please go and do something useful, sweetheart?"

I sigh, instead of walking away, I sit down next to him. Turning to him with a smile on my face.

"Give me something useful I can do.." I ask, giving him a sickly sweet smile.

I hear him chuckle, his hand coming to rub my shoulder, before he points to the stack of papers on his left.

"The other documents I’d rather not have you go through.."

He reaches for the papers, placing them in front of me.

"Can you sort these in chronological order? It's images of camera footage, date and time are on the top right."

"Sure, dad.." I agree, flipping through the black-and-white printed images. Curiosity raised at what I'm seeing.

An individual, with more of a masculine frame standing outside of a huge, luxurious house.

Dressed in- from what I can make out to be, a black t-shirt, along with the ugliest pair of jorts I have ever seen.

"Where is this from? New case?"

"Bellingham's case." He replies curtly, writing something down on his notepad.

It was astonishing how anyone could read his handwriting.

Were lawyers second in 'the most unreadable handwriting' competition, next to doctors?

I raise my brows at his answer, interest peaked suddenly. I look around the house, as if Jude would pop up like some ‘Bloody Mary’ game if called out for three times- but I remember he is out tonight, enjoying his break from training at fuck-knows-where.

"Footage from the break-in?"

"Yes, honey- any more questions?" He glances at me for a moment, raising a single brow in question.

"No, not really..." I say, eyes flying to the date and time.

I only recognize the date as the first match we played in the Champions League this season, back in September at Bernabéu.

The dates do match up, and when I continue flipping through the images. Seeing more and more images of different dates, with more damage done to the home, makes me gasp.

How did Jude and his mom even live here for many more months after the first incident?

I feel goosebumps rise up on my skin at the thought of feeling unsafe in my own home. Had I known how terrifying the things that happened to Jude were, I wouldn’t have been such an asshole when he first arrived.

My stupid mouth and I...

I shake my head as if to remove my thoughts, taking a deep breath before quickly sorting and stacking the images correctly.

If I had known sooner, maybe I could have been more civil towards my unwanted roommate..

"Girl, turn the lights on. I literally cannot see a single thing." Amira complains, smacking her bubblegum in the loudest way possible.

"I hate winter. Seriously, why does it get dark so early?.." I complain, hurrying over to switch the light on in my bedroom.

"Stop complaining and do a twirl for me.." She says, placing her phone against something stable, so she can see me properly.

"Oh, sure your majesty.." I mock, chuckling at her, before doing a 360.

"You look so damn good. I swear, if you don't take a man home-"

"It's a party- or event , full of my colleagues. I can't be a hoe tomorrow night.."

"If you wanted, you would.." I watch her smirk, before she runs a hand down her dark locs.

"We can do that when you're visiting next time.."

"Can't- I have a man." I hear her chuckle, and definitely don't miss the sound of another, deeper laugh in the background.

"Oh, great thanks for reminding me. Hey Trent, stop listening in on us.." I say sternly, leaning in towards the screen.

"He's not listening in. He is on the phone with Jude.."

Oh, fuck, great.

I turn towards my door, praying Jude or Trent wouldn't be too loud on the phone.

At this point, I was surprised that the jig wasn't up yet.

Amira already knew about it, of course. I just hoped Trent didn't.

I mean, it would be foolish to think that Jude and I could keep our secret to ourselves. But for once, I trusted he would keep his mouth shut about us living together.

Everyone knows that men gossip more than women. They could know the most intricate details of the juiciest drama you'll ever come across, and never utter a single word about it until you ask about it directly.

"Trent's gone, now speak. Why do you look like you're sweating buckets?"

"I feel sick, like- my stomach hurts.." I begin, struggling to take my dress off.

"Maybe you got your period?" She suggests, using the screen to watch herself dot the pinkest liquid blush on her cheekbones.

"No, my Clue app says I'm getting my period in six days.." I reply, hanging my dress back into the closet. Then, I grab my pajama set, pulling the comfy clothes on quickly.

"You're probably nervous about tomorrow.." She mumbles, fidgeting with the lamp next to her, before blending the blush seamlessly into her foundation.

"What could I possibly be nervous about? I've been going for like two years, since I became eighteen.." I flop onto my bed, cuddling my soft pillow against my body.

My thoughts wander for a moment, something close to déjà vu washing over me.

"It's the butterflies.."

I snap my head back towards my phone, pulling a confused face.

"For?.."

"For Jude- You have butterflies in your stomach for Jude!" She screams unnecessarily loudly, making me drop my phone onto my bed.

I gasp, retrieving my phone from the mattress, looking back at her with wide eyes.

"Are you crazy?! Dude, he's literally across the hallway!" I exclaim, burying my head into my pillows.

"He probably heard you!" I cry out, giving her a middle finger.

"Exactly my intentions! I swear, everybody in the fucking world knows he wants you at this point. I've never seen two people in this much denial before."

"I literally don't know what to do with myself, thanks for emphasizing that.."

"How long is it going to take for you to be honest with yourself? Another six months, yeah? You like him, come on. You like him.."

"I haven't liked anyone since high school.."

"Let's not bring high school love into this. You were sixteen, should’ve been worried about GCSE's instead..."

"Okay, let me do a little magazine quiz for you.." I watch her spray her fixing spray onto her face.

She dries her face with a small fan, before leaning in and looking at me with a serious expression.

"Go ahead.." I groan, sitting up properly.

"What do you think of when you see him?"

"I don't know? 'There he is again'?" I answer stupidly, looking at her. I watch her cover her mouth, probably disappointed with my reply.

"Okay- let's try this. Imagine, tomorrow, you see him in a suit, tie all of that-  dresssed up nicely, with his hair freshly cut. He smells like the sexiest cologne you have ever smelled. No 'Doir, Sauvage' shit- think 'Tom Ford, Oud Wood'.."

The rest of whatever the fuck she says doesn't register in my brain, but the heat slowly pooling into my body, down my stomach and thighs, tells me enough.

It tells me too much.

I’m fucked, done for.

A lost cause.

I need an exorcism..

"I'm ready!" I shout, taking one quick look in the mirror, before grabbing my handbag off my bed.

I stuff a powderpuff, some lip products, and my phone into my bag and rush down the stairs.

"Come on, honey. It's one thing to be late- another thing for me to be late to the event I'm co-hosting.." My dad says, already standing at the front door, navy blue suit making him look handsome.

"Ready! What do you think?" I ask him, pointing to my dress and heels.

"You look very beautiful. I did not think you'd wear such a daring colour.."

I know what he wants to say. ‘You look just like your mother’, but ignore those thoughts.

I shrug at him, glancing in the mirror again. The scarlet-red dress clinging to my skin is just the right amount of sexy and chic.

Of course, I had to go for a mini dress, ignoring my dad's wishes, because I could and I'm an adult.

I adjust my silver necklace, watching it glisten in the overhead light.

"Come on, y/n. Enough admiring.."

I nod, quickly walking behind him into the car.

I buckle my seatbelt, the mix of my dad's cologne and my perfume overwhelming me for a second.

"Wait? Where's Jude? Is he not attending?" I look at my dad, watching him pull out of the driveway.

"He will attend, but he said he would arrive with his teammates. He didn’t want to inconvenience us."

Inconvenience?

What did he mean with that?

I mean, we had not spoken properly for days- but inconvenience?

Am I overthinking things?

"Come and grab a drink with me.." Lina says, grabbing my wirst to pull me towards the cocktail- or in this case, mocktail bar.

Due to the discouragement of the players drinking alcohol, mid-season- it was the upmost important for this party to only offer non-alcoholic drinks.

And considering what had happened last time I was drunk- I wasn't complaining, at all..

The party had started two hours ago, though a little formal. We made the most out of it, while dancing along with the beautiful live music. The clock would strike twelve in a little, indicating the beginning of a new year.

Something about New Year’s Eve made me incredibly emotional at times. Maybe, it was the realization of life going faster than I thought- or maybe, it was some resentment I held against the negative things that happened in the year.

Even so, I tried to make the most of this party every year. Dancing wholeheartedly, tasting the food the chefs had worked so hard on, drinking the delicious drinks made by the bartenders.

"I'm going to get a Negroni- How about you?" Lina asks, wrapping her arm around mine as we walk towards the bar.

"I don't know- maybe I’ll just ask for a recommendation.." I speak, looking over at her. Her black dress hugging her figure as our high heels click against the floor.

"Oh, look who's here too.." She says, motioning ahead with her eyes and chin.

I follow her gaze, furrowing my brows in confusion. My eyes land on a couple of the football team players, all looking happy as they order their drinks one by one.

"Oh.." I mouth, lips pulling back into a straight line as I spot Jude next to them.

And of course, just like my dear best friend had described last night. He is dressed in a sleek, black suit matched with a crispy white shirt.

I watch him interact with his teammates, unconsciously staring at him as we near the bar.

His pearly white teeth show as the corners of his eyes crinkle, probably laughing at something funny one of the guys said.

I almost gasp out loud when he turns around, my eyes moving down to see the deep red handkerchief, placed neatly in the pocket of his suit.

Why in heaven's name- did we match?

I lean against the bar by instinct, drawing my attention back to the bartender who's standing in front of me. Eyes darting to the menu, of course- to only see non-alcoholic options.

Maybe, I did need a different type of drink.

'I'll have a Negroni, please.." I hear Lina say, and look at her for a moment before turning back to the bartender. Trying to ignore the fact that I can feel a pair of eyes burning holes into the back of my head. 

What was that called again?

Scopaesthesia?

Whatever it's called, there should be a name for someone's warmth too- because Jude probably could feel the heat radiating off my body at this point, even if he isn’t standing that close to me..

"And what would this beauty like?”

I stand up straight at the words, looking at the smiling bartender.

I give him a soft, appreciative smile back, enjoying his non-creepy way of delivering a compliment, and quickly ask for a recommendation.

As y/n speaks to the bartender, he laughs back, leaning in to whisper something into her ear. It earns a chuckle from her, making her lean against the bar again.

Unaware of his own body language, Jude tightens his grip on his glass. His jaw twitches, and he turns away from the scene, scoffing to himself before taking a gulp of his drink.

His body tensing up does not go unnoticed by his friends slash teammates. He gets a pat on the shoulder from Dani, making him relax for a moment.

"Loosen up, brother. Have some fun.." Eduardo speaks, giving him his signature smile while clinking his full glass with Jude's.

Jude nods, walking closer towards the crowd of his teammates, trying his absolute best to remove his brown eyes from the girl.

The girl his brain has not stopped thinking about, ever since that drunken night..

From the way she looked, spoke, dressed- he was infatuated with her.

And tonight?

The sexy red dress, hugging her body- showing skin-

He is fucked, absolutely fucked, especially when he realizes how clammy his hands are.

The normally confident and playful Jude vanishes for a moment. He's acting like a lovesick teenage boy, too nervous to ask his crush out for prom.

The hour passes painfully slow, with the both of them sneaking glances at each other every other minute. Their friends notice, of course, smirks on their faces as they realize how clueless they are.

Young love shouldn't be this complicated, they think, wanting to push them towards each other already. Tired of the back and forth they were a part of these past months. The patience they had was running low, even though it wasn't anything harming or hurting them.

"Ladies and gentlemen, your attention, please!" A sharp, ear-piercing sound echos from the microphone, booming out of the speakers.

The speaker is none other than a Real Madrid executive, standing next to the chic, wealthy woman, is y/n’s father.

The entire venue’s attention turns to the two individuals, conversations and laughter cut off immediately.

"Just like every year since our successful partnership with Mr. l/n. We thank you for being here at our annual New Year's event!"

The room answers with happy and loud cheers, some clapping along in agreement. An interesting mix of almost all the athletes signed to Real Madrid, their hardworking staff, and not to forget, esteemed lawyers from the law firm.

"We will enter the new year in ten minutes! Please enjoy the rest of your night!"

As if on cue, the room goes back to their own conversation. And the restless, nervous wreck y/n immediately turns around to visit the bar again, asking the bartender for another one of the drinks he'd made for her earlier.

She didn't even remember what it was called. All she tasted and saw were strawberries- which meant that the bright pink, iced drink was good enough.

She grabs the drink off the counter, thanking the bartender, before turning around to return to her friends.

She looks down to watch her step, high heels starting to hurt her feet, as she tries to walk without tripping, making her forget to watch where she’s going.

Before the girl is aware of it, her body collides with a harder one. Glass in her han, tipping over, the pink drink splashing all over a white, crispy shirt.

y/n gasps, eyes widening in horror. Looking up from the disaster, she makes eye contact with a shell-shocked Jude. His own, brown eyes widening impossibly wider than hers.

Covering her mouth, she places the glass on a small, round bar table next to her, turning to him wordlessly.

"Oh- I, umh.." She stutters, sweat practically visible on her temples at this point.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck!" She thinks, multiple thoughts running through her head like Usain-fucking-Bolt..

With only one brain-cell working in between them, and their hearts beating like crazy. She grabs his hand, pulling him off the dance floor- into a small closet, behind the stage. Away from the peering eyes and cameras at the event.

She turns away from him, closing the door, before locking it. Ensuring no one would walk into this disaster of a sight.

"Take it off.." She begins, speaking without thought. Reaching for a roll of paper towels, ripping off a stack of them before starting to dab away the moisture from his now pink-stained-shirt.

Her eyes dart up, lips parting slightly as Jude shrugs off his jacket, throwing it to the side.

The dim light flickers in the small, suffocating room. She halts the hurried dabbing, making eye contact with an equally entranced Jude.

"Sorry.." y/n whispers, breath hitting his plump lips. Her hand moves up again, rolling some more of the paper towel around her hand, before wiping off the excess moisture again.

Jude's body stiffens, particularly his abdomen. He takes a sharp breath, looking down at the flustered girl.

For some reason, a sudden switch flips inside of him. He sighs, eyes roaming up and down her form, a warm, but burning feeling settling in his stomach.

He decides to move for a moment, unbuttoning the cuffs of his shirt, and rolling his sleeves up to his elbows. It causes y/n to freeze up this time, her body going rigid as she watches him expose his arms.

Even in the dim light, his muscles protrude, along with the bulging veins running down his forearms.

"Fucking hell.." He says in a low voice, unbuttoning the top buttons of his ruined shirt, making the girl’s eyes widen again.

"What- What are you doing?" She asks, heart almost exploding due to the pace it’s beating at.

"I'm burning up in this room.." He replies, making direct eye contact with her, as he fidgets with the white buttons.

Revealing more, and more skin..

It's like he's dropped the nervousness within seconds. Looking into her eyes while fixing the collar of his shirt.

Even though it takes him approximately ten seconds, to the girl in front of him- the moment is dragged out horribly long and in slow motion.

Her breath hitches at the delicious sight, and she gulps while looking up at him.

Deeply entranced in the tension filled- sensual moment, she drops the wet, used paper towels mindlessly onto the floor.

The lights flicker once again, making her eyes squint as she takes him in.

No doubt, the image will be burned into her infatuated mind from now on. Gnawing at her sanity and logical thinking.

Of course, he smells good. So damn good, the perfect mix of musk and powdery cologne.

Not only is the sight delicious, but the smell is too.

The loud music outside of the small enclosed space continues, the crowd singing along to the chorus of a well-known song.

She looks down for a second, trying to collect her thoughts before she says something completely unhinged.

"Jude.." She whispers, heart beating erratically in his chest. y/n can feel her hands shake, her legs trembling in her high heels.

Their breaths mingle as they look into each other's eyes. A silence settling in between them after she says his name.

Jude's veins practically burst at the sound of his name leaving her lips. His eyes dart to the perfectly glossed lips that say his name so sweetly, so softly..

His mind goes dizzy at the sound. Wanting to hear it over, and over again. Loving the sound most ardently..

A soft groan leaves his mouth, and he traces her beautiful features with his eyes, until he makes eye contact with her, again.

"We should leave this place. The countdown is about to begin.." She whispers the only words she can think of saying, breath shaky and faint.

Jude does not answer with words, but his eyes do dart towards the door. Ears perking up as he hears the familiar countdown begin.

"Twenty!" The crowd exclaims, happiness and excitement buzzing throughout the venue- except in the small room they are in.

"Jude!" She says again, voice a little more stable than before. She raises her left hand, pulling on the hem of his now- untucked shirt.

He snaps his head back at her, watching the soft skin in between her brows pinch together in frustration.

"y/n.." He whispers back, head leaning closer against hers. Making her grip on his shirt grow tighter. Skin on her knuckles tightening from the strength she's using.

"What?" She asks, voice fiery sharp, and impatient. Emotions making her eyes glisten, along with the jewelry adorning her neck and ears in the light.

Though, the tension is high and suffocating- Jude grins suddenly, plump lips stretching as he leans in closer. His own eyes, now with a hint of playfulness in them, roaming around her face.

"Ten!" They hear the crowd exclaim, continuing to cheer and laugh together.

"What?" She says again, lifting her chin up to look him in the eyes. Her breath hitches at the playful expression on his face, like he's an imminent danger to her heart and lungs.

"You're the most annoying fucking person I have ever met.." He speaks, with no real malice in his tone. A chuckle leaves his mouth, soft breaths hitting her lips.

y/n's heart stutters at his words, and the change of emotion in her eyes makes him go absolutely crazy.

"Fuck, and I love that. I love you, y/n.." He breathes, his hand cupping her jaw.

He watches her face intently, watching her blink multiple times, before her hand travels from the hem of his shirt to his unbuttoned collar.

She wraps her hand around the fabric, pulling him closer with a small jank. Wetting her lips with her tongue, she speaks again.

"Then fucking kiss me, you annoying douche bag.."

The words leave her mouth in a fluid, rehearsed way, and she loses herself in his deep eyes.

"Three!"

"Fucking gladly.." He mutters, both of their eyes fluttering shut as his hand moves over to the small of her back impatiently.

"Happy New Year!"

Their lips brush against each other, her hands gripping onto his shirt with a vice-like grip.

Her breath hitches at first, making him chuckle cockily against her lips. His hand supporting her jaw in the most tender way possible, as his thumb rubs against the softness of her cheek.

The soft press of their lips touching make their hearts flutter.

Realizing there is no point of return from this, the feathery touches turn into heated, greedy ones.

The rush of adrenaline makes them lose their self-control, an unstoppable, alluring feeling injected into their veins as they continue soaking in the moment, until they part for air.

Their ragged pants brush against each other's faces, a small smile pulling at her lips. Eyes finding each other again, as their hearts beat in unison.

Jude stares into her eyes, thumb running down her jaw, as he smiles back at her.

"Beautiful. You're beautiful.."

[threepandas]

Bad End: Witness

"Specimen '873 is starting to disappoint me. He was showing such promise. These numbers, however?" My keeper muttered to himself, distaste painting his face as he watched the feed in front of him. "Unacceptable for a battle class. He might as well be spare biomass at this point."

He was supposed to be wearing his glasses, not holding them. They may have been called "reading" glasses? But they were not, technically, just for that. They also had a blue light filter. Helped with headaches and eyestrain. He just hated wearing them because he thought they made him look old.

A God Forbid ANYTHING remind him of the passage of time.

He did NOT take it kindly.

I managed to avoid THAT landmine by virtue of having witnessed his receiving them. An "incident" that resulted in his head slamming against a screen. Protocol demanded he get checked. In the process, they discovered his eye sight was declining. It was a... bad day. I brought him things to break and stayed very, very quiet.

He bounced back fairly quickly, though. Once the arrogant researcher who had arranged for the incident to even OCCUR? Tried to come lord his "weakened old man" status over him. It was one thing to "accidently" let the battle class get unfettered access to weapons before loyalty train. But to be dumb enough to step into his lab, call him weak, and gloat about it?

Dr. Raghnall Periculum was many things.

But "unwilling to bludgeon a man to death with the nearest object" was not one of them.

He was dangerous like that. Murderous. It came and went like shifting storms, all you could really do was learn to read the triggers. Get good at knowing when to back up. When to hold really, REALLY still. After all... this was a lawless, immoral place. No one here could or WOULD stop him.

They were all just as bad.

Gritty Sci-Fi Otome games are... a lot less fun to LIVE. To be honest? They are actually pretty horrifying. Traumatizing, really. Hellish. As in, I am pretty sure this is a futuristic version Of Hell (but that is a personal opinion). I regret EVER playing a single damn one. But... BUT? I CLING to the knowledge I gained from it. So I can not regret it completely. Because through them? Through KNOWING this world?

I KNOW this will end. KNOW we will be free. That these monsters will pay for what they've done. The epilog promises a golden age. A beautiful, peaceful dawn after this long and terrible night, filled with horrors. I just... I just have to survive. Hold on. Keep my head down and pray.

I may be trapped in hell, but I'm not broken.

We will be Free.

I have SEEN IT.

Sometimes the greatest defiance is just refusing to die. Just keeping hope alive. I... I can do that. May not be able to fight my way out. Not smart enough to hack or sabotage these nightmares. But I can stay alive. I... I can do that. Bear witness, that someday I may stand against them in trial. Record. So no one is forgotten.

It doesn't feel like enough. I feel tired and angry. Hateful and small. But for the sake of my sanity? I make myself feel nothing. Compartmentalize. I've... I've become unfortunately quite good at it. Good at a lot of terrible things. Like placating. Making myself small. Being invisible. A retail smile. Being one with the furniture.

See, just like the poor souls on the screens in front of him? I'm a Clone. Of who? I have no idea. None of us do. They use old DNA databases. From when it was first commercially available, I think. Like those ancestry tests. Here it was squirrelled away, kept for later use. Which... was us.

My template has been dead for centuries, I think. Or perhaps? She would have considered herself my mother? I hope she would have, strange as I turned out to be. We are all children of the dead. It'd be nice to think they'd have wanted us.

Dr. Periculum's cup lifts lightly as he take a drink, more focused on his work then anything else. That heft is about midway point. I've discovered if I begin brewing now, it will be done by the time his cup is empty and he wants more. A glance at the closest screen gives me the time. Food too, is a good idea.

He likely won't eat it. But if it's there? The chances are higher. And when he comes out of his focus, it'll be available. Less chance of him getting irritated by hunger.

On a well practiced route through piles of notes and projects I know better then to touch, I quietly make my way to the coffee machine. Begin another round of abomination the caffeine tar. It is, quite honestly, a wonder he hasn't accused me of trying to poison him to a heart attack.

A few granules of salt, a bit of cinnamon, some expensive fatty creamer, aaaand? There. Unholy bitterness gone. "Just" a cup of liquid tar so potent it could make a rhino taste time.

I also grab one of the meat pies and put it on a little paper plate.

Ah... what has my life become? That I am so well practiced in make snacks for a monster? Picking them up, I don't dare answer that. That way lies madness. Don't think about it. It can wash out in therapy. After. Because there WILL be an After. There HAS to be an After.

Careful steps and...? Just as I estimated. He just ran out. I nearly silently tap the paper plate down to the edge of the table then slide it forward, with-in ease of reach, but not too close. Then I swap the cups. Go to step away. Only to freeze. As, out of the corner of my eye, I see one of his hands briefly leave his keyboard to make a nearly dismissive "one moment" gesture.

Stay put. Don't move. I'll address you when I'm done with my, more important, thoughts. I feel the flash of fear, of panic, but let it go. There is nothing I can do. I will be hurt or I won't be hurt. There is no use suffering twice, through speculation and fear, I remind myself. Force my mind empty and pleasant. Retail smile. Happy to serve.

He finishes. Leans back, dissatisfied with some project or other, and finally slips on his glasses. Gestures imperiously for the cup in my hands. I do not question of course, merely hand it to him. He takes it, passes it to his other hand, and sets it aside. Then, casually, leans slightly over and wraps a thickly muscled arm around my waist. Dragging me off my feet and into his lap.

"You know, girl? B-21873 really was, actually quite promising. I was starting to think I'd keep him. Decent speed, good stamina, excellent problem solving. His test scoring was exceeding all expectations. Really thought I might have gotten you a little friend to play with. A gaurd so I could send you out on some chores safely. But no, he just HAD to be a failure." He said, leaning forward to grab his cup.

I was crushed awkwardly close. Could feel every moment. Acutely aware of his woody and sea air cologne, the coffee on his breath as words were spoken far to close, the beating of a heartbeat I could feel against my arm. Hyper aware of him. Why was I in his lap? This felt dangerous. I should not be in his lap.

Between sips, he turned his head and pressed his lips to my temple, not kissing... somehow worse. Just... just breathing me in. Slow, deliberate, and deep. Like savoring a scent, a sensation. The subtle back and forth, as though rubbing his lips against my hair. Enjoying the feeling against sensitive skin. It could almost be a cuddle on any other man. It took everything I had not to shudder.

"Unlike you of course. You pet, could never disappoint me. If these rejects tried even half as hard as my perfect darling girl? The world'd be a better place." He paused his almost nuzzling. To simply rest his head against mine, pulling off his glasses so he could tuck his head closer. His breathe was hot against my ear. His voice gravel and distain as it spoke of others.

"It's disgusting. Like they don't even try. We spend countless resources breeding, feeding, and training them... for what? Failure? I'm starting to think those bastards are deliberately sending me bad specimens."

Every word he said was horrifying. I could not cry. Dare not. But my heart screamed for those poor souls. They were just kids. Trapped in hell. Tortured from birth. Disposed of when they no longer met some arbitrarily impossible anime standard. If I turned my head, even slightly, I KNEW, I would be faced with screens of untold suffering. Feeds of "testing". So called training. Autopsy reports and datapoints.

Lists of who... who had been deemed "not good enough".

Who were scheduled to become "recycled biomass".

But if I looked? I would weep for them. And that? That was dangerous right now. Right NOW? I had to be pleasant company. A child's doll to be dragged around. No thoughts, no differing opinions. Preferably no opinions at ALL. Just warm and huggable. Soft. A beloved pet who serves coffee and brings things when told. Endure. I just... I must simply ENDURE.

The night will end. Dawn will come. Believe in her.

J-Just empty your head... and Believe In Her.

An alert pops up. I can hear it on a screen somewhere behind me. Dr. Periculum turns his head to look, reaching for his snack. Freezes. Then, a sharp bark of laughter. It's violent, like the strike of a lightning bolt, jostling me. The ones that follow just as harsh. He's not a man that laughs often. And it's not a kind sound.

Filled with schadenfreude, his laughter is like the vicious barks of hunting hounds. The shots of a weapon. A short and harsh to the ears sound, over and over. Delight in the suffering of an enemy. The fall of a rival. It strikes through his body like seizures. Making him lean forward to read. Brace against the desk, tighten his grip around me, widen the brace of his legs.

Glancing up, his eyes are alight with manic glee. His grin is vicious.

He looks Feral.

"Well, well, WELL! What do we have HERE?! Is that Jack ANDERSON'S facility I see? Mr. 'Master of the genome' himself? Looks like SOMEONE got AHEAD of themselves! Ha!" Raghnall cackles spinning his chair so I can see the screen. Leaning back to grab his cup and toast with it. "Look what we have here, pet! Some fucking KARMA! I knew that little shit wasn't worth the paper his degree was printed on! See this? THIS is what happens when you can't control your own damn compound!"

"Rest in PIECES, you worthless little SHIT!"

I sat. Frozen. As Dr. Periculum laughed and laughed, his mood viciously pleased. Because... because I recognized that facility. Chapter Two. There was an animation that played. The... the BREAKOUT! Joy filled me. Like the first rays of dawn. That was HER. S-she was OUT! Free! She DID it! Oh god... oh god she was COMING! It had finally BEGUN!

I caught myself. Barely.

My eyes felt a bit wet so I disguised it with a fake yawn. I dare not show empathy. NEVER show empathy. Keep it guarded like diamonds in your chest. If he thought, for even a moment, that I empathized with anyone but him. CARED about anyone but him? They wouldn't last the hour.

And it would be the longest, cruelest, hour in existence, as they died.

You make that sort of mistake exactly ONCE.

"Ah~ todays a GOOD day. And you know what we should do?" He hummed, nearly a coo as he spun us almost lazily around on his chair. In whimsical circles like a bored child. "We should celebrate. Ding dong, the fuckers dead~ HA HA! Not to mention? It's been entirely too long, pet, since I've spoiled you rotten. We should get a cake, hmm? You want a cake? Lil treat? Sweet lil treat for my girl?"

"I could get you that new dress I've been looking at. Bet you'll look like a classy lil princess, won't that be nice? Can even make it match the trackers I'm finishing up! No more uncomfy collars when we go out! Just pretty lil bracelets, ain't that nice?"

I force myself to smile. Nod. Ignore the fear and anger, the humiliation and helplessness. It's not time yet. Bid your time. You will LOSE your chance for True Freedom if you give in to your anger. Your hurt. Patience, THEN strike. Remember! Chapter two! There are FIVE.

It is COMING.

He stopped spinning, planting his feet on the floor. His manic grin softening. No less unhinged, less full of teeth, but perhaps the closest a man like him could come to loving. His eyes obsessive as the roam my face. Cataloging everything.

"You know, pet? You really might be might greatest creation. Best thing I've ever made or done. Anyone wants you? They'd have to pry you from my cold, dead hands. I'd burn EVERYTHING down. Kill just about EVERYONE." His voice was the sort of whispered confession meant for churches, not the heart of this hell he had built. It felt unholy. Dangerous.

Exactly like him.

"Once I figure how to take humanity to it's next stage? Reverse aging? Heck, even stop it. I promise, pet. Gonna take you with me. You're coming along for the ride. Straight to the end. Heat death of the universe. Well become GODS, pet. Live forever and a day. Bet you can't wait, huh?"

"Don't worry. The futures going be BEAUTIFUL. Just you wait."

[bunnliix]

The Invisible Strings that Bind Us - Chapter One

Hiii! I hope this is an enjoyable start to the story.

And to anyone that's reading this and wondering if it feels familiar, I was given permission to adapt another fanfic that was discontinued, to give it a new life! I didn't change much here in the first chapter, but the story from here on out is much different than the original first chapter. So basically, I'm not stealing anything!

word count: 3.2k

masterlist

warnings: panic attack, anxiety, I think that's it?

Italicized - Korean

Y/n's POV

I sighed and laid back in bed after my class finished for the day, waiting to see how long this strike would go on. It felt weird to not have school other than the one online class, but for now it's a nice break from the long days at school. I sat up and grabbed my headphones from the foot of my bed, hoping that listening to my music for a bit will help speed the day along. While listening to said music, I started reading some fanfiction, having felt an abnormal want to read k-pop fanfics. This wasn't totally out of place, however it was odd for me to be unable to read one genre of fanfic for this long, as I had been focused on this for a couple weeks already. This week's fixation was Stray Kids, and particularly OT8 fanfic. I had read fanfic for the group before, however it was primarily members by themselves and not as one large group. Which is why this fixation is classified as odd in my mind. 

I passed the day by while reading fanfiction, and it was late at night by this time. I may have fixated on reading a bit too much as I had forgotten to eat food, though it could have been caused by the increasingly odd and realistic visions I had been daydreaming throughout the day. These daydreams had been occuring more often lately, and while some seemed to be of the same people sometimes, it was not always the case. These daydreams also seemed to carry into my dreams, which as I remembered them, seemed to catch my attention as it was very unusual. I had been having odder sensations, in addition to the strange dreams and daydreams. When I searched on the internet, everything pointed to the soulmate bond trying to pull me to my soulmate, however very little of what was happening to me, was really any help to point me in the direction of my soulmate or soulmates? All I could tell was that there were a lot of men in these visions, and that they may speak Korean, or at least most of them do.

Shrugging off that train of thought, I moved to get out of my regular clothes and into my sleep/comfy clothes, and hopped into bed afterwards, quickly forgetting about the daydreams and focusing on a new fanfiction I had found. A while after settling into bed, I found myself getting dizzy out of the blue, and decided that it was better to stay in bed and close my eyes, hoping that it would pass soon. Unfortunately, the universe did not agree with my hopes and soon I felt the bed disappear from under me, and the feeling of falling replaced it. Panicking, as one would in this situation, I open my eyes to try and find a way out of this situation, only to find myself falling into the lap of someone. I look up and recognize the face of the person whose lap I'm in. Of course, being the panicky person I am, my brain decided the best course of action is not to say "hi" or anything else, but to scramble off of his lap and run away from my soulmate. I somehow managed to open the door and run out of it, running around until I found a bathroom, running inside and hiding inside one of the stalls. I patted myself down, trying to find my phone and freaking out when it's nowhere to be found. 'Fuck!' I thought as I sit here in a stall in a strange place and I have nothing to help me get out of here and I'm not even wearing suitable clothes either. I started hyperventilating and found myself spiraling into a panic attack, unable to stop myself. Eventually, due to my panic attack and the lack of food I ate, I passed out in the bathroom stall.

Chan's POV

Today so far has been normal, nothing terribly unusual has occurred yet. Nothing is that unusual when it comes to my members, the chaos is eternal, but very amusing. I'm working on very little sleep, however I was able to finish up writing a couple songs for our next album, so that was a plus. Currently, the group and I are waiting on our choreographers to show up so that we can practice the dance for the title tracks of our upcoming comeback.

"Man, the dreams I've had lately have been kinda weird. There's been one girl I've seen more than a couple times, and I've seen her work on what look like essays as well. I wonder if this is due to the soulmate bond, but maybe it's just my overactive imagination." I hear Han say, and look up at him. That is fairly strange, and he isn't the first to have voiced about strange dreams or other occurrences they've had. However, I have no time to think about this as out of thin air, someone lands in my lap who is clearly none of my members. I look down to see a girl land in my lap, who quickly makes eye contact with me. I see her panic clear on her face, and I have no time to react before she scrambles away from me and runs out of the room. 

Han quickly leaps up as does everyone else who wasn't already standing. He shouts out, "That's the girl I saw in my dreams! How is she here?!" and before anyone can stop him, runs off after her. I'm in shock and look up to see Han run off, standing up quickly and calling after him. I look to the rest of the boys to try and figure out what to do now, as there was no way for that girl to have gotten in, with the exception of her being our soulmate, which I suspect to be true based on how I felt looking down at her. I look down at my lap only to find a phone that I know belongs to none of us, and figure out that it's her phone. I hold onto it and turn it over to find a Nayeon photocard inside the case on the back. "So it seems our soulmate likes k-pop." I remark and show the others the back of her phone case. "Now we just have to find her and Han, where they both went." We all leave the practice room and head off to try and find the two of them.

Han's POV

I watch the girl from my dreams run out the door and my body reacts, jumping up, yelling out that I knew her, before I run out the door behind her. I see her round the corner, but lose her once I turn the corner. I look around to see if I could find her, but the only rooms around here are a couple closets and the bathrooms. I open the closet door to find nothing but cleaning materials, and then search the men's bathroom in case she has run in here. The only option left is the women's bathroom, however it would not be good if I’m caught in there by someone. I lean back against the wall and try to think of what I was going to do next. 'I could call out to her and see if she hears me. But I don't know her name so what would I even call out.' 

I took a chance and looked around to see if there was anyone around. Seeing no one, I headed into the bathroom quickly, checking that there was no one in there. I saw that all but one of the stalls were open, so I went to check that stall. I knocked on it and get no answer. I took a risk and looked under it to find the girl, and wondered if she's so freaked out that she's not answering me. I found a way to unlock the stall and open it to find that she's passed out. I started panicking slightly because I don't know what to do in this situation. Do I call Chan? Do I try to carry her back to the practice room or our studio? Well the first thing I should do is make sure she's okay and alive. I knelt down in the stall and checked her pulse, finding that it's strong and well, if a little fast still. 'She must have had a panic attack or something to have a heart rate this fast after passing out who knows how long ago.' I figure that the best thing to do is to bring her to the studio so that when she wakes up, she won't be too shocked at least. I carefully reach under her knees and back and lift her up slowly, aware about the lack of space around us. Somehow, I managed to get the both of us to the studio without running into anyone. I lay her down on the couch, and sit down on the floor next to the couch, waiting till she wakes up. I texted the boys that I had found her and that both of us were safe. I also informed them that maybe it was better if all of us weren't here when she woke up, in order not to frighten her. If I was in her shoes, I would have reacted similarly, I'm sure.

Chan's POV

I felt my phone vibrate and saw that Han had messaged our group chat. I sighed in relief that he had found our soulmate, but frowned as I read that she had passed out in the bathroom, and that Han wants only a few of us to come see her once she's awake, fearing that she may freak out once again. I understood his idea, as it was logical, and quickly thought of who was best for her to meet first. Probably Minho, Felix and myself, as Felix and myself can speak English, and Minho will want to make sure that she's okay. I sent these thoughts to the group chat, and while the others protested, they ultimately understood where I am coming from. I started heading towards our studio and met up with the others outside, and we all entered the studio quietly and waited for her to wake up. 

Y/n's POV

I slowly started to wake up, feeling a soft surface underneath my body. I opened my eyes to find an unfamiliar ceiling above me, and my memories from before came back to me and I shot up into a sitting position. I heard noise from around me and looked around to find that my memories had in fact, not been a dream. There were half of the members of Stray Kids sitting or standing in various places around the room. "Umm, hi." I said quietly, still not sure what the hell I'm supposed to do in this situation. I looked down at my lap, feeling as if looking away would make it easier on myself. I saw and heard movement next to me and before I could look to see who it was, I heard someone speak to me.

"Hey, are you alright? There's no need to be shy, honestly." I looked up to see that it was Chan who had moved next to me, kneeling on the floor so that he was able to look at me. 'Should I say I'm fine when I'm really not? I don't want to worry them, that wouldn't be fair to them, and I'm sure they're busy enough already without me popping into their lives randomly.' I keep going down that rabbit hole until I feel a hand on my leg, bringing me back to the present. What I hadn't seen while spiraling was the four members trading concerned looks between them. I then looked to see that it's Chan's hand and that he looks more worried. I quickly opened my mouth to respond to his original question. "I'm fine, I'm totally fine. No need to worry about me." I try and laugh his concern off, I don't need to be a bother to them. 

I hadn't realized that I had said that last thought out loud until I felt someone sit behind me and wrap their arms around me as they talked. "You could never be a bother to us, you're our soulmate and we want to be there for you, even though we may have just met. We want you to lean on us for help when you need it, just as we will lean on you from time to time, okay?" I teared up unknowingly as he said that, looking up to see that it's Lee Know who was embracing me. He reaches a hand up to wipe the tears from my eyes, which I only noticed had fallen at that moment. I nodded silently, not really knowing what to say at that moment. I tensed up slightly in his arms, feeling conflicted as I was both comfortable and uncomfortable in his hold. 

One of the boys grabbed my hands again, before I looked up I knew it was Chan. He smiled at me, though he still looked slightly concerned. "Are we making you uncomfortable? Please tell us if we are and we'll back off a bit." I rushed to reply, in doing so also jumbling my words a bit, "No, no, you're all fine, um it's fine you're not makin' me unfomfy, fuck, I mean uncomfy. I just don't know what to do in this sorta situation and so I don't know how to act and you're all cute and y'know, idols and just I- aaaaaaaaaaaaaa" I ended up cutting myself off to spare myself the embarrassment and look back down at my hands that Chan is still holding. While I'm looking down, I heard laughter coming from Felix and Han and I'm not sure if they're laughing at me or not, and I scrunch my shoulders up to my ears, as if it would somehow protect me from them. 

"Hey, knock it off guys! You're making them uncomfortable, can't you see that? " I heard Lee Know speak up from behind me in Korean, talking to the two younger ones. I'm not sure what he said, but it stopped the boy's laughter and soon enough they came over, apologizing for laughing and Han explaining why they laughed in the first place. "I'm sorry, we weren't laughing at you, well not exactly. You sound like me when I get anxious and flustered so Lixie and I were laughing about the fact that I wouldn't be the only one who rambles and gets clumsy with their words. We're sorry that we hurt you with our actions, and hope that you are able to forgive us."

I looked up at Han and Felix, who clearly looked apologetic, and nodded. "Now that you've explained why you both laughed, I understand that you were not laughing at my inability to talk, but that I am not the only one that gets like that. So you both are forgiven, it's okay." I smiled at them, hoping that my forgiveness was clearly translated. They both smiled back at me, and I can see Chan smiling from the corner of my eye, seemingly happy that the situation was resolved. He then spoke up, "So maybe we should do introductions, though it seems you already know who we are."  I blush, nodding my head. "I do know who you all are, and who's missing from this group right now as well. Though shouldn't they be here so that I don't have to introduce myself twice? It would be easier to only do it once." 

Chan's POV

I laughed quickly and nodded, "Yes, that would be much easier. Han, would you text them to come here quickly? " I looked over to see that Han was already doing that. " No worries hyung, already done. They're all on their way ." Not even a minute or so later, the other half of SKZ barged through the door, just as I had hoped they wouldn't. " Guys, really? There's no need to barge in like that. " They all bowed apologetically to both myself and our last soulmate. She giggled at their actions and smiled and waved at them. I looked over at her to see if she was ready to introduce herself and after she looked at me and nodded, I smiled.

Y/N's POV

After the chaos that was the other half of Stray Kids barging into the room, I was ready to introduce myself to my soulmates for the first and only time. I turned to face everyone, "안녕하세요" I smiled and bowed to them as much as I am able to, as I introduced myself. I heard various reactions to my words, including a couple that I can make out as them calling me cute. 

I heard Chan say, "Well, our last soulmate, it's a pleasure to meet you." I looked up and smiled at him brightly as I responded, "I'm very glad to have met all of you as well, my eight soulmates. Though I already technically know all of you by being a Stay, would it be a bother to ask you to introduce yourselves as if I had never met any of you before?" 

3rd Person POV

Felix smiled as their soulmate asked them to introduce themselves to her, as if they were strangers. 'She's adorable, and I can already see how she fits in with us, though I know I'll have to wait and see the full extent of how well we'll get along,' he thought.

 He then decided to introduce himself first, "Hello, I'm Felix, it's nice to meet you!" the younger Aussie waved and smiled at her.

 "It's Seungmin in the building, it's amazing to meet our final soulmate." She giggled at Seungmin's introduction, which in turn makes the man happy that he got a laugh out of her. 

"Hi noona, I'm Jeongin." and eventually the introductions ended with Chan, "Hello, I'm Chris or Chan." 

The young girl smiled at the eight of them, happy to meet them all finally. The boys, as they were bound to do, started getting distracted and eventually Chan came to sit beside her. She looked over at him, still smiling as she almost always is, and asked him if he wanted anything. The Aussie shook his head, just wanting to be near her, telling her as much. They were both happy to watch the rest of the men fool around and have fun with each other. Soon enough, she was feeling tired again, and started to lean into Chris's side, laying her head on his shoulder. Chris smiled at her actions and moved to pull her closer into his side, enjoying the close contact. 

He felt her fall asleep, hearing her breaths even out. In order to make her feel a bit comfier while asleep, he moved her body to lay down across the couch again, with Minho's help. Her head rested in his lap, and he quietly talked with the boys as they let her sleep more.

Next

[rojacatmisa]

Chapter 6 ➺ Paris est magique

Starting over In Madrid

Misa Rodriguez x Reader (Nicky/first person)

After moving to Madrid as the new Real Madrid photographer, Nicky's eyes can't look away from the pretty face of Misa Rodriguez. But how is she going to handle her growing desire for the Canarian goalkeeper when her working contract's strictly forbidding her to date players? Chapter 1 ➺ A harder job than I thought Chapter 2 ➺ Clearly on a bad slope Chapter 3 ➺ Calmly panicking Chapter 4 ➺ Hell Clasico Chapter 5 ➺ Valleys and peaks

This chapter is quite long ! Hope you guys still like to read it as much as I loved writing it, and I had so much fun doing photoshop visuals I did several for this one

TW: may content explicit sex, +18

6K words

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The rain was pouring down when we landed in Paris, drops splashing hard against the windscreen of the bus, driving at an unbelievably low speed. I was sitting beside Ana at the front row, slowly drowsing, swung by the steady movements of the vehicle. My mind wandered, taking me back with Misa and Hayley waving happily to me again at the start and end of trainings. I was so glad to have them back. My vibrating phone took me out of the memory. I pulled it out of my pocket and broke a smile when I saw Angela had texted me. 

A: Hey Nicky! How are you it’s been years !

N: Hey Angela! Yeah so long sorry I didn’t call. Work has been mad but I’m good and you ?

A: I’m fine! What did I miss ? Can we call ?

N: Sorry I’m on the bus in Paris right now can’t call you. I do have a lot to tell you!

A: Tell meeee Wait I know It’s Misa???

N: Well spot-on lol

A: Tell me everything!!

N: Well we kissed… more than once and that’s it for now.

A: Oh that’s all …?! What are you waiting!! But you’re in Paris with the team ?

N: Yes

A: And you’ll be in the same hotel ?

N: Yep

A: And you’ll have a room for yourself ? 

N: Yes……..

A: This is looking good or bad it depends

N: Stop it Angela! Right now Misa is focusing on her match and won’t let anything happened. 

A: How many nights are you staying ?

N: 3 but only one after the game

A: Leaves 1 night still…

N: Girl!!! you’re not supposed to encouraged me !! The close still exists…….

A: Right yeah fuck the close! She’s a friend with benefits no big deal ! Just keep it secret... anyway you and I both know it's bound to happen

N: Pfff I can’t bye Angela

A: I’ll call you when you’ll be back in Madrid ! Can’t wait to know the all Paris story, especially the end !

I rolled my eyes and put my phone back in my pocket, a part of my body itching now my brain was imagining the things that could occurred in two days. I shook the thought, peering at the blurry shapes of the fancy buildings of Paris through the heavy rain.

***

We arrived at the hotel at the end of the afternoon, everybody back on the bus at once for a late practice session. Misa didn’t break her self-promise to work hard and we didn’t interacted much during the first hours in the French capital. We quickly ate and went to bed after training. Everybody was very concentrate. 

Next day, the players trained all morning in the stadium of the Parc des Princes where the match would take place. However, the club permitted a free period on the afternoon and Naomie, who was born in Paris, organized an improvised visit of Montmartre with some of us. 

I was the only non-footballer member of the tourist groupe. Hayley had forced Misa to join. She originally wanted to study in her room, watching videos of goalkeepers playing as a last minute homework, but had had to let go under the insistence of her friend for well deserved break. 

Even if most of us had been to Paris before, we were charmed by the tortuous and hilly streets near the Basilica. I was dragging myself behind the sporty women,  getting distanced more and more, as I climbed laboriously the endless stairs to the Sacré Coeur. Misa glanced behind her, saw me, nudge Hayley and the two of them lowered her pace to let me catch up. 

"¿ Qué pasa Nicky ? Tired after the morning training ? It was a hard one I must admit…" She teased as I leveled with them. 

"I didn’t signed for this ! Don’t have your stamina !" I panted. 

"Come on let’s go that way ! We’ll do a detour but maybe that mean less stairs" Hayley indicated a pedestrian curvy path on the left. 

We chatted happily on the way. It was so nice to hang together again. We shortly arrived to the front but below, a huge amount of stairs still separated us from the basilica. I snorted. 

"Come on Nicky !" Hayley pushed me forward but I eyed an empty bench aside the path. 

"I just need a break !" I said heading to sit down. As I passed in front of her, Misa hold me back, grabbing my arm. "We leave you on that bench and we’ll see you at the Sacré Coeur in two hours !" she joked. 

"Carry me then !" I said. I felt free in Paris, far away from the Ciudad Real Madrid, it was making me flirty and I played at being dramatically on the edge of fainting. 

Misa was already grasping my arm to pull me closer, ready to catch me. "Don’t temped me, Princesa !"

"Ok girls ! I’m still here remember ?" Hayley waved at us, amused. Misa and I parted, embarrassed. "We’ll do Nicky a favor and rest a bit." she added already sitting down on the bench. 

We joined her, silent for once, calmly enjoying the beautiful view of the roofs of Paris while tourists and locals flocked toward the Basilica. A big kind of pigeon walked to us, eager to find some food at our feet. 

"Esta paloma ha comido demasiado, French pigeon are fat !" the goalkeeper said, curious. 

I peered at the oversized bird. "I don’t think it’s a common pigeon…" 

Hayley put out her brand new camera  "I think it’s cute"  she said fondly and took a photo "It will be our souvenir of Paris". The Australian footballer jumped up and position herself in front of us but scared the bird away. "oh no I wanted a family portrait ! Anyway… say cheese !" she shouted at us. 

I shoved my arm on Misa’s shoulders, she grabbed my waist as we put on our best smiles. "You’re too cute girls" Hayley dropped. I felt my face blushing and I tried to hide it in the crook of Misa's neck. However, the embarrassment was almost pleasant as it felt so good to be allowed that little bit of freedom with Misa. Hayley knew the truth and was keeping it safely to herself.

A little breeze swept some fallen leaves on the path. I was so at peace in the foreign city I rested my head on the goalkeeper’s shoulder, smothered by the warm presence of her hand at my side. Hayley took another shoot. "You can tell me if you want a photo of you two kissing in Paris at this level…" she threw at us. We chuckled and I went back at hiding in Misa’s neck. But Hayley was just teasing and had the delicacy to turned around to photograph the city stretching in front of us, allowing the little break only for ourselves. 

I straitened up and peered at the goalkeeper. Her half-closed eyes were looking at her lap, a bashful grin making her so cute. I glanced around us to see if any of our teammates had followed us. It was clear. "I think I’d like a kiss in Paris" I said, my hand, still on her shoulder, caressed the side of her neck. Misa shyly smiled and raised her head. A worry flashed in her eyes and like me, she checked if we weren’t observed. When she was sure we wouldn’t take any risk, she leaned over and timidly kissed me. Felling she was pulling back, I hold her face, not ready to let her go, having not enough of her lips against mine, and I felt her grin through the kiss. "You can’t devour me in public like you almost did in your office" she muttered. I retreated and flash back at her. Her warm and soft gaze made my stomach flutter. I felt an urge to hold her close but didn’t dare, somehow finding it more intimate than a kiss. Instead I took her hand and got up, pulling her behind me. 

"Let’s go to that damned basilica !" 

***

The teams entered the stadium in two neat rows under the cheering crowd, the Ultras Paris tribune loudly chanting "Paris est magique !". Tension and concentration gripped the Real Madrid girls as the traditional greeting took place. Shortly, everyone was taking their place in the pitch, ready for the kick-off. Misa’s knees had been warped up entirely since her injury during the previous game but she was jumping and stretching energetically in front of her cage. 

The game started, PSG had the ball, led by Grace Geyoro quickly advancing, passing the ball to Tabitha Chawinga. The forward ran faster and faster, closing the gap between her and the penalty area in less than minute. Ivana, Rocio and Oihane surrounded her and she passed the ball back to Sandy Baltimore who send it in the feet of Marie-Antoinette Katoto. The French player dribbled past Ivana and was block by Olga but managed to keep the ball. She send it to Sakina Karchaoui, and recovered the ball behind Olga’s back, heading straight into the penalty area. 

Misa readied herself to jump, shouting restlessly at her defenders. Katoto crossed the ball, Chawinga waiting, and she controlled it, aimed and shot. The ball rolled between Rocio’s feet at full speed. Misa dived and crashed onto the grass, her outstretched arms missed the ball by centimeters and she saw it entered the cage, almost brushing the right goalpost. The crowd burst in joy as PSG scored at the 6th minute. Real Madrid were having a hard game start. The goalkeeper got up, furious at her defenders and probably more with herself. She kicked the ball back in the game, her brows furrowed, her mouth nervously chewing a gum.

First haft-time past with no further remarkable action, apart from a miss aim kick from Karchaoui at the 40th minute. The second half however was punctuated by the many attacks on both side. Unfortunately, all the attempts of Madrid were stopped by the impassable feet of the French defense. 

Madrid was falling back as fast as they could as Sakina rushed on the left side, knowing how dangerous she could be. She crossed the ball again, aiming for Grace Geyoro. The ball buried itself in the groupe of players lost in confusion. The whistle blew and the gesture of the referee was pretty clear. She mimed a square with her hands, her arm pointing the center of it to finish. The ball had found the arm of Oihane leading to a penalty in favor of the French team. 

At first sight, Misa’s face was unreadable, but I was beginning to know her well enough to decipher her extreme tension. What she dread and wanted the most was happening, a chance to prove herself when all was resting on her again. She settled on the goal line, stretching arms and legs to prepare herself. Katoto would do the shoot. The entire stadium was holding its breath. Katoto waited a few seconds. She jogged to the ball and kicked it to the left. Misa jumped on the good side and kick the ball with her fist, sending it out of the pitch. She leaped back to her feet, screaming in triumph as her teammates hugged and slapped her in congratulation.   

The match resumed. Like before the penalty, both teams worked hard at scoring without succeeding during the entire time. Finally, the whistle blew to signal the end of the encounter. It meant Madrid had lost again. We were all disappointed by the outcome but less battered than after the Clasico. We all knew we had put an honorable performance regarding our opponent. 

***

On the road back, the team was quiet for everyone was brooding the defeat. It was still early when we arrived at the hotel and groups of teammates formed in front of the building, sharing ideas to change their minds. I overheard Sofie and Kathellen taking about a club houseboat. Haley joined them at planning the evening, grabbing a passing moody Misa that surely wanted nothing more than to bury herself in her bed. 

"Don’t even think about escaping Misa Rodriguez. You’re coming with us, willing or not !"

"Estoy cansada y no quiero bailar ! Leave me, Aussie !" she moaned and struggled to set her arm free. Hayley gestured me to approach. "Nicky’s coming too ! You don’t want to miss a night out with the best girls, do you ?"

"Vamos Misa, it’s our last night in Paris !" I insisted and sized her other arm to prevent her from fleeing again. She stopped struggling but began to silently sulk.

"We going to a péniche sur la Seine" announced Kathleen with glittering eyes. Misa sent her a questioning look. "It’s a boat on la Seine, you know, the river of Paris" she mocked her.

"I know the river of Paris, thank you." Misa snapped back but I couldn’t tell if it was true. Anyway, the prospect of it didn’t seem particularly appealing to her.  

"Misa stop being so grumpy, just let go for once !" Like she would have with a child, Hayley took the goalkeeper’s chin between her fingers, and mirror her own putting expression, having Misa to finally break a smile. "Thanks Jesus, we have Misa back ! Let’s go change. We meet in one hour max at the hotel reception !" 

After hesitating over and over about what to wear, I had finally put on a knee length dark gray T shirt, a jean jacket and a pair of black derbies from where my Real Madrid socks were sticking out. I didn’t like to look too classy, even in Paris. When I arrived in the lobby forty minutes later, Misa, Hayley and Kathellen were already there, chatting casually together. Hayley was the first to notice me. "Girl you’re looking good ! Come seat with us. We’re waiting for Sofie and God knows she can take forever to get ready". 

I took a place on the sofa besides the midfielder, facing Misa who discreetly looked at me from head to toes and put a thumb up to silently show her approbation of my outfit. My voiceless lips formed the words "you too" in return. The goalkeeper was wearing simple gray pants and a sleeveless top witch nicely brand out her muscular shoulders. 

We waited for Sofie an entire hour and ordered a taxi. The danish girl had barely apologized, quickly gathering us for a selfie as we got out of the car at our destination. The surroundings were charming, large bare lawns stretching in front of the Palace of the Invalides on a side, a sumptuous bridge crossing the Seine on the other. The streetlights and granite paving stones perfected the lovely decor. 

We walked to the bridge, climbed down a few stairs and arrived on the docks where a few barges were mooring. As the cliché says, the banks was indeed giving a very romantic vibe and I suddenly wished Misa and I were alone. The tall brunette was photographing the place, finding it at her taste finally. 

A few minutes later, we entered the barge-club and came to the dance floor on the lower level. The place was bombed-out and suffocating, colorful spots of light splattering on the sea of heads. After getting some drinks, we spotted a less crowded space and formed a small dancing circle. It was good to see the footballers having fun whole-hearted, relieved of any kind of pressure at the moment. Kathellen and Sofie spend many time dancing together, pausing now and then to take selfies and to chat on their phone. Misa was getting loose as she drank more and more Pina Coladas while Hayley kept making fun of her wild dancing. As for me, I was sweating hard and feeling slightly tipsy after two and a half pint of beer. 

The partying pretty footballers were drawing attention. A few girls approached them more than once. Kathellen and Misa had the most pretenders with respectively six and five woman coming to chat or dance with them. Of course, it annoyed me beyond reason for I was forcing myself to stay distant with the goalkeeper. When the sixth girl, moreover not an ugly one, tapped Misa’s shoulder with insurance, I escaped from the crowd to cool down near the wall of the room, not bearing to witness another flirt.  

I took a long sip of my beer, wiped the sweat off my forehead, while peering at the girl chatting Misa with dark eyes.

"C’est toujours étouffant ici ! T’as bien raison de faire une pause si tu veux tenir toute la nuit !" a women just came leaning against the wall besides me. 

I glanced at her, perplexed. She was tall, black, her face bearing many piercings and wearing her hair in long small braids. I actually found her very pretty. "Sorry, I don’t speak French !" I apologized.  

She came closer to avoid shouting over the music "Oh, I couldn’t guess ! You look very Frenchy. I’m Sonia." she pointed at herself. "Nicky" I mirrored her. 

"You dance Nicky ?" she led out an inviting hand and smile to me. I glanced at the place where I had left Misa but didn’t caught sight of her. Felling still annoyed by the goalkeeper power to attract girls like moths on a lamp, I nodded, dropped my empty glass, and followed Sonia back into the crowd. 

I could tell the woman was a confirmed dancer at the first contact. Her hands on my waist and scapula guided my body along her moves. She spoke in my ear without breaking our dance  "you’re living in Paris ?". Her smile was really charming and I felt exhausted all of sudden. Why couldn’t I crush on girl like her ? Why couldn’t things be simple and flowing ? Why was I liking one in the handful of people on earth I wasn’t allowed to ?

"No, I live Madrid actually, I’m just here for a couple of days " I answered. She made us turn around in a few quick dancing step and I caught a glimpse of Misa’s face glancing at us from across the the room, scowling, lips pinched. I couldn’t help feeling a bit satisfied jealously had changed side. 

"When are you leaving ?" Sonia asked. 

"Tomorrow" I said sadly as I was really enjoying your trip in Paris. 

The pretty women strengthened her grip, her mouth back to my ear "too bad… we can still spend the night…". I led out a soft chuckle. The prospect was tempting but I couldn’t go with Sonia like that. We weren’t even together, but I felt a jolt as I realized I would feel like cheating on Misa. My heart tightened as the thought of the footballer’s upset features. 

I pulled back from Sonia, my eyes already excusing "I’m sorry Sonia but I can’t. Thanks for the dance though, it was nice. You made me feel I danced well too". Sonia grind, obviously not vexed "De rien ! Good night to you Nicky." and she left, disappearing in the compact mass of people. 

The room had filled even more, blocking the view I had on the goalkeeper and barely allowing me to find my way back to the wall. I leant against the relatively fresher surface and began to text Misa to know where they were. The familiar silhouette of a brunette with broad shoulders extricate herself from the packed dancers. Misa scowl disappeared the moment she saw me and I was so happy to find her I flung myself in her arms, alcohol allowing me to be so reckless.  

Misa raised her eyebrows, surprised by this outrush of affection, especially after having see me dance with another women but shortly her body relaxed and she hold me against her. Not leaving her embrace, I slowly began to moved along the song’s rhythm. The goalie followed me, our hips pressed and moved in sync. Somehow feeling like sheltered by the dense crowned, we danced like we were alone, eyes closed and bodies stuck against each other. 

The music went slower, I turned around and put my back to her. My butt pressed on her hips, she wrapped her arms around me, shoved my hair to one side and planted a kiss on my neck. I shivered, led a blind hand grasp her hair for her to kiss more. Her hands on my stomach pushed my bottom harder against her while her lips worked their way up to my jawline. My face oriented itself toward them. She found the corner of my mouth, I growled in frustration and I turned to her again to fully receive her kiss. The close, the risks, the consequences, were swallowed by those luscious lips pushing me back to the wall, my arms around her neck ensnaring her body to mine as she had me cornered. 

The slow melody faded to a groovy one but we weren’t dancing anymore, lost in our heated kiss against the wall. I was so worked up it was painful. Snogging her wasn’t even barely enough, it was becoming excruciating. I was dying for more, for the all party, for a release that had never came yet. So I quitted her mouth and went to pant in her ear "Let’s go back to the hotel, to my room… por favor!". Hearing her gasp finished to convince me we shouldn’t last here anymore. 

As I began to drag her toward the exist, Misa held me back "We can’t go together on our own, it will look suspicious. We have to get the others to go or wait for them !". She had stay more sensible tonight and I had to admit she was right if we didn’t want Sofie and Kathellen spreading the juicy story of two girls coming back earlier to the all team in the morning. 

We found the three other footballers and I spotted Sofie muttering something to Kathleen while looking at us. I realized we were already suspected. Misa went next to the danish girl who nudge her with her elbow and exchanged a suggestive glance. The goalkeeper shook her head, bitterly adding "I queued to the bathroom and I found Nicky having a good time with a pretty French women". 

Sofie bought her partial lie, hitting my shoulder in collusion. "Why didn’t you go with her ? Enjoy your last hours in Paris baby !". 

"Nah, I’m far too tired ! Honestly I’d like to go, you can’t breath in here!". 

"Oh ! So soon ?" Sofie probed with a look the rest of our groupe. I caught eyes with Hayley and passed her a silent plea to help us. I saw the Australian midfielder glanced at Misa, the goalkeeper imperceptibly nodded, her face reddening with embarrassment. 

"I’m ok to go, I’m too hot too and I don’t want to end up looking like Misa’s lobster face." Hayley jibed while backing us up, having Misa shrinking on herself with shame. 

To avoid any further suspicions, the goalkeeper and I didn’t take the same cab to return to the hotel. I paired up with Hayley, leaving Misa with Sofie and Kathellen. In the taxis, I thanked my friend for having us covered. 

"I got you girls, but be more careful, you two are getting so obvious it’s a miracle nobody else hasn’t figured something out" . The Aussie winked. "And please go to your room, I’m next to Misa’s and I would like to sleep well". 

"God sake, Hayley…" 

*** 

I closed the door of my hotel room, tension of my expecting body reaching new heights. All I had to do was wait for Misa but it was already too much for me to handle. My brain was running wild. What if she couldn’t come ? What if she finally didn’t want to ? I had to busy myself to keep my sanity. 

I took off my jacket, shoes and socks and glanced at the room. The bed had been done, white sheets and pillows neatly smothered and ready for us. I found the room too bright and I turned on the night lights near the bed headboard before turning off the ceiling one. The dim glow shrouded the place with a quiet warm ambiance. 

Going in the bathroom, I looked at myself in the mirror. I looked tired and messy. I  brushed my teeth and my hair, took a bit of conditioner to freshen it. Then, I checked my make up, put back deodorant and a spray of perfume… Once, twice, thrice… all of that to help me regain some confidence in vain. 

I went back in the bedroom, more nervous than ever. The waiting seemed to last forever, having me wonder if she was going to come at all. Maybe she found it was too risky in the hotel we shared with the team and staff…

…a soft knock on the door made my heart lift. 

I rushed at it, opening to a very agitated Misa, the goalkeeper checking several times she wasn’t followed before she stepped inside. 

"Perdon Nicky !"  Misa sighted once she had closed the door. "Sofie wouldn’t let me go. She insisted we chatted and drink more in her room for she wasn’t feeling tired ! I told her I’d to go to bed but she wanted to come in my room and busy herself on her phone while I’d sleep !" 

I giggled "Sofie is one of a kind…"

"Si, she is ! But I got rid of her ! Uf !" she leant back to the door, relieved. 

"Phew ! Here you are at last !" I smiled to her, my nervousness surging again. 

We face each other in the small room, jittery and shy, unable to move, now we were finally at it. Silence settle between as we watched each other expectantly. Misa looked down, pressing her lips in an embarrassed smile and nervously massaged her neck. In spite of her charismatic appearance, she could be rather timid in those circumstances. I shook off some of my own diffidence and I walked to her, caught her face in my hands, looking at her tenderly, and my desire for her took over me again. 

I embraced her, kissed her softly, my impatience giving place to a will not to rush as the night still lay ahead. I wanted us to fully experience everything, each kiss and touch, equally moved and aroused by the fact that tonight would always be the first with her. 

Misa sunk in our slow motion, her arms around my neck. Her fingers gently crept in my hair and she pulled my face to deepen our kiss. I ran my hands under her t-shirt, stroking, caressing her skin, before I grabbed and pulled the cloth off the women’s head. Our kiss broken, my gaze wandered over her body and she sized the moment to take off my dress, her fingers folding the fabric up slowly, and finally shoving it off my head as well. We resumed our kissing, skin brushing, hands and fingers running along each other spine, to the point of giving us goosebump. 

Misa advanced, walking me backward to the bed, and taking her shoes off on the way. Our already fast breathing quickened. My heels hit the bed framed, I gasped, turned over at the last moment, having Misa loosing balance and falling onto the mattress. She smiled in surprise and settled herself in the middle of it, her half bare body an irresistible invitation to join her as soon as possible. 

I went over her, instantly back at full-mouthed kissing, a needy fire surged and spread as she caressed my bare skin. Misa straightened up and I wrapped my legs around her hips. Her powerful hands secured me against her while she looked up to me, silently asking for us to resume our kissing. I leaned toward her mouth and softy bit her lower lips, hearing the woman rasping breath in return. I released her, she send her tongue between my lips, reaching for mine, as her fingers found my bra and worked at unhooking it. I imitated her and we both sent our underwear to the floor. Quickly, we pressed our chest against each other, back at stroking our now entire naked upper bodies, the feel of Misa’a soft and bare breast on me stirring waves of heat in my stomach. 

I couldn’t bear to take our time anymore, I put my weight against the goalie to bring her to lie down again. Misa grinned and resisted. I unwrapped my legs, straddling her tights and unceremoniously pushed her back onto the mattress. Her eyes fed on the view of my almost naked figure. I, myself, could barely stand the sight of her lying body, topless, with her arms and long hair spread out on the pillow, her shaped abs and tanned smooth skin showing in the half-light. She looked up with hooded eyes, mouth half opened, surrendering to me taking the lead and allowing me to simply contemplate her for a moment.  

I came to lay a little aside over the goalkeeper, Misa’s arms enclosed me, pushing our breasts to gently squash, sending us both gasping at the sensation. A hand cupped the nap my neck, making my mouth fall back on her lips as I felt her rise her tight between my legs. I led out a wail, fingers gripping the pillow as she began to apply a light pressure there. Slowly I grinded on her, sending rush of pleasure in my body at each slide on her leg. But shorty, the fabric of her jeans bothered me. I broke the contact and I heaved my upper body onto one arm, leading down my other hand to unbutton her pant. 

I reset my position above the goalkeeper, began with a light kiss on her mouth and moved down to her neck. Misa’s hands ran down my back to my bottom as I nipped and licked my way to her breast, her long moans filling the room as I started to kiss her there. One of her hand found mine, the other resting on her own hair, her furrowed brows was giving away her longing. I paused, inhaling the smell of her skin, before I continued my road down. 

I stopped when I reached her jeans, witch I grasped firmly to took it off. Misa chest was rising up and down deeply, looking avidly at me as she had very well guessed were I was planning to go next. I took the time to dispose of my panties, more turned on to see her head jerked back on the pillow as she regained some of her breath. Fuck she was so hot ! Her perfect awaiting body menaced to finish me only at the sight. I tried to cool myself down, pushing back my own arousal as I swiftly pulled off the brunette’s own panties, having both of us bare and trembling with want. 

Slowly, I lowered my head between the goalkeeper’s spread legs, taking a glance at her blushed face, her brown eyes and half-opened quivering lips almost begging. My tongue ran through her and Misa's head fell back again, closing her eyes, as a hight pitch whimper escaped her mouth. Her sweet voice filled the room and covered my own whining. Her hands desperately clung at my hair to have me go on and on, her sounds louder with the increasing rhythm. 

At a moment, she set her arms upward, and messed with her hair, witch fell over her face beautifully. The vision of the brunette lost in pleasure almost had me go over the edge again. One of her hands hided her face, the other gripping the bed sheets as my fingers found their way inside. She was so loud now I was sure we had awakened all the occupants of the floor. I lifted my head to check is she was close, barely able to hold on myself, but Misa, wanting more, pressed my face between her legs again. Fuck ! I was so close, my own cries muffled by my business on her core, when her legs went rigid and pressed on each side of my head. The goalkeeper’s body shuddered, accompanied by deep whiny sights, as she sunk into the bliss. 

I exhaled and rested against her leg a moment, regaining my breath. After the short break, I went next to Misa, facing the goalkeeper laying on her back, her face lost and beautiful. She turned on her side, sent a weak arm over my waist for me to took her in and she nested on my collar bone, peaceful and exhausted. I watched her yearningly, I kissed her forehead and a discreet smile stretched her mouth. 

A couple of minute had passed, with us staying cuddling, when Misa lifted her head to put a soft kiss on my lips. She pulled my face to give me a more heated one, and another. Then she grabbed my leg, heaved it onto her hip and my breathing quickened again at once. Her hand grasped my neck, she sent it traveling to my breast, caressing and pinching my nipples a moment, turning me into a moaning mess, before she led it down, and downer. 

She touched me at last, gasped and smiled at finding me all drenched and I hugged her tight, feverish whimpers leaving my mouth as her fingers easily sled between my legs. I had been already so close I knew I wouldn’t be able to hold much more. Misa’s fingers sunk inside, I whined so loudly I’d have been ashamed, excepted I didn’t gave a fuck. Warmth grew, choking and pleasant each time she went in and out, filling me more and more when I was already so full. 

My half-closed eyes wandered on Misa, and it was the sight of her far too pretty blushed face focussing hard on making love to me that made me came. The deep waves of pure pleasure radiate through my entire body, my arms tightening around her neck, eyes shut, entirely surrendering to the overwhelming feel. 

As bliss took me in, both of us went limp against each other. Exhausted by her match earlier, the footballer as given her last strength to it. I flipped onto the other side, still recovering, while she managed to turn off the light and come to lie close. She pulled the cover onto us both, wrapped me with her arm, I sized her hand falling over, hearing her letting out an approving noise in response. Her slowing and deepening breathing told me she had fell asleep at once, against me, in Paris, the magic French capital.

✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧

Chapter 7 ➺ In the haze

[littlemissmentallyunstable]

title: we’re oranges and apples now

paring: grayson hawthorne x reader

synopsis: you and grayson broke up years and years ago after a long and happy relationship but one day you meet again in the future and the memories come flooding back…

parts: we’re apples and oranges now (your pov)

warnings:

a/n: this is we’re apples and oranges now but reversed in Grayson’s POV, you’ll notice this mirrors the other fic quite a bit, this is intentional!!

tag list: @tornqdowarnings @whatsamongus @wish-i-were-heather @inmyheaddd @never-enough-novels @peterlcsingwendy @lxvebelle @xoxo-vee @emelia07 @f4iry-bell @zoyaaaabear @thoughtdaughter3 @benny1989fredd @elysianwayy77

Grayson’s POV

I was wandering around the shops cluelessly. Cluelessly is never a word I thought I’d describe myself with. Grayson Hawthorne was not a clueless man but nowadays I seemed to becoming less and less like Grayson Hawthorne than ever. I check the list of items I’d been asked to purchase and gather most of the things I need. I find myself in the fruit aisle, picking up various berries when I spot some oranges. Not my particular favourite but I decide to get some anyway. As I’m picking some I’m suddenly aware of someone beside me. I glance from the corner of my eye. She’s recognisable in an odd sort of way. I couldn’t quite see her face but something about her presence, the way she’s breathing, her careful movements, it’s all so familiar. It’s like I’d seen her so many times but couldn’t place my finger on who she is. I ignore the puzzle my brain is trying to make this and focus on the oranges in my hands. She’s buying apples, placing one by one in a brown paper bag. I’m just about to put the final orange in the bag when suddenly I feel her bump into me. I see hands fly to her mouth and her eyes widen.

“Oh my gosh I’m so sorry!”

Her voice hits me like a train and I realise who she is. Why she was so recognisable. The left side of my chest fills with warmth that spreads across my whole body and suddenly my heart is pounding. I’m frozen for a second, not knowing what to say until I blurt out her name.

“Y/N!”

I stand up properly to make sure it’s really her. She’s stood there still, not moving, not blinking, I don’t even know if she’s breathing. She seems to be ina state of paralysis for a few moments. She looks up finally and murmurs my name.

“Gray?”

I chill runs down my spine, it’s been so long since I’ve heard my names from those lips. Her lips. The ones I used to kiss and now look at us. Too flustered for each other’s good in the fruit aisle of a grocery stores. Her hair spills around her face, framing her beautiful features. It’s like I’m looking at her for the first and last time all over again. The odd feelings of desire and pain mixing up into some messy soup in the pit of my stomach. As our eyes meet, a lifetime of love flashes before me. Memories that had been buried deep into the darkest parts of my mind begin to resurface and play like a mini movie. Over and over and over, like the film tape was stuck in the camera and no more of the story could make it through. She looks just like I remembered yet not quite. The months I’d spent moping over her, dreaming of her features, once drawing her just from memory. And now she was here infront of me. I wonder what she might be thinking. If she were thinking about the past we’d been through or the present were in now. Or maybe it’s neither, maybe I’m not even on her mind.

“Wow it’s really you,” I say. I want to smile, but I can’t will myself too, it feels in my gut like some sort of betrayal… but I don’t know who to. My wife? My children? Myself? Her?

It’s so odd seeing her again. Part of her was always somehow engraved into the side of my heart. Even when it was all over, the scarred name was still there and right now I can feel it throbbing. I don’t know whether the pain is good or bad but it just feels so natural for it to occur. I’d thought I was over this, over her, over the feeling but now I can see her again I don’t feel so powerful over my own swarm of thoughts as I did when she wasn’t staring at me with those angel eyes. She’s everything I’d remembered. Perfection doesn’t even begin to outline what she looks like. She looks a little older, a little more mature but I dare say it’s made her even prettier. She has the same gorgeous eyes, bright smile, soft hair. All those nights I’d spent gazing at her while she slept, tracing the very features that I stare at now. Then I’d taken them for granted, assumed that I’d be able to do that forever but now I just take them in slowly, processing this might be the last time I see them.

A question plays on the tip of my tongue, but it had already died long before in my throat, so I don’t ask it. Even though my heart is screaming for me to just be brave for once, my brain declines once again. My eye flicker down to get a glimpse of her left hand. I am guilty, but I have to know if she’s found someone new. Someone who’s given her what she deserves, the things that I couldn’t. But her left hand is gripping the basket so tightly that her fingers and any rings are hidden behind the handle and the white of her knuckles. So I’m left staring at the items in her basket. Baby bottles and blankets. My heart plummets down to my stomach. Was she expecting? Or had she already had her child? It’s funny, I’d always thought if she’d ever had a baby it would be mine. Suddenly this revelation makes me angry. She is having it has had a baby with someone. She’s a mother and not to my children. It stings so much more than it should. Like antiseptic on a fresh wound. But what hurts more than that is that I don’t know these things about her anymore. I don’t know her life, all the exciting moments and even the painful ones. And I’m never going to. It’s never going to be what it was and it’s all my fault. I let it all slip away and now I’m full of regret,

And then the blow of guilt hits me out of no where again. As if a shell has exploded right in front of me and I’ve been blown to smithereens. I should’ve be feeling regret. I have my own a life now with a woman a love, who is now called my wife. I have kids and a car and a steady income. And she has her life. I’m selfish, I’m so bitterly selfish for wanting what I can’t have when I already have so much… and yet it still doesn’t stop me.

Her hand shifts hold on the basket and then I see it. An engagement ring and a wedding band. Classy and classic. I expect nothing less, of course. That’s her taste. It always has been and I’m glad she’s find someone who respects that, who acknowledges it. But it’s grating at me… if we had still been together would she have gotten the same set or would it be different. I wish I didn’t care this much. I shouldn’t care this much. It’s a piece of damn mental and yet it’s suddenly the only thing on my mind. I’m ridden with a horrible vicious jealousy, spreading like an ugly rash all over my skin. I’m jealous of whatever man put these rings on her finger, whatever man got the luxury of calling her his wife. I’m disgusted in myself for feeling this way because she looks happy. Happier than ever. And I want that for her more than anything. She deserves to be the happiest girl in the world. But I wish I could’ve made her this happy. But I failed. And this is my punishment. I have my own life now and so does she, so I keep having to remind myself. Why is the concept so hard for me to grasp?

I wonder about her husband. It’s hard to picture her with someone else. I think about all the things I hope he is to her. Was he the kindest soul on the planet? Would he do anything and everything for her? Did he treat her like she deserved more than the world? I hoped, I prayed he was. And even though I’m trying to forbid it to, my mind still wanders on… Was he anything like I was? Or did I scar her so badly that he was my opposite? What made her choose him? Fall for him harder than she’d fallen for me? What made his love worth fighting for?

I look back to her face and inwardly sigh. I doubt she was doing this. Mulling over me and my life like I am hers. Overthinking every detail, wondering who she’s married to and why. She’s too kind, too mature. I only wish I could have the decency to do the same, but it’s pricing difficult. Though, I catch her eyeing my wedding ring. And suddenly a pang hits my stomach and I want to tell her so many things that I can’t. I wish I could tell her I didn’t dare engrave the initials in the metal, like we’d one discussed. I didn’t for one second think of doing that with anyone but her. I wanted to tell her that I drove all the way out to a jewellers in another town just so I wouldn’t go to the same one we once did. I wanted to tell her that I kept the promise rings we’d made together and I still have them in a box under the roof of my house. But I stay silent because I am a coward.

“Yeah, gosh, hi, how have you been?” she asks. The first thing I notice is how radiant she looks, the brightness in her eyes and joy in her voice. ‘She’s happy’ I think again and that makes me smile a little.

“Good, I’m good,” I reply, “how are you?”

“Yeah,” she nods, “good as well.”

“It’s been a while,” i say, forcing a laugh to hide the resurfacing pain. It was easier like that.

“Yeah it has,” she grins back, her eyes pinned to mine. She looks so delicate in this moment and so unbelievably beautiful, “it’s about time we’d bump into each other.”

“Yeah,” I reply, gazing at her trying to suppress my smile. But it seems to not obey and suddenly I’m grinning like I haven’t in a very long time, not since we were together I don’t think.

A menagerie of memories replay in my head, but it feels like I’m a bystander in every scene, watching another version of myself with her. A wave of deja vu envelopes me suddenly sending tingles down my spine. I don’t like what she does to me, I don’t like feeling so far from myself and yet I miss her so much. And just as if she’s reading my thoughts she says three fateful words that I’ll never forget,

“I’ve missed you,” she says rather suddenly.

Those words hit me like a bus, in the best way possible. In fact I wish to be hit with that bus over and over and over just to feel the impact.

“I’ve missed you too,” I say, hoping she can hear the meaning in my voice, see the emotion in my eyes.

The tide of bittersweetness roll in and out slowly, unsurely, indecisively. And even though the water is only up to my ankles I’m suddenly drowning. Drowning in the most minuscule amount of water because my mind is making it out to be so much more than it is. A unswallowable lump forms in my throat in this prolonged silence. My eyes refuse to leave her face, the very face I left all those years ago. She wears the same expression as that night. One of the worst nights of my life. Her eyes are wide, a borderline of hurt and happiness. I still have nightmares to this day, it’s one moment of us together that I never wish to relive. The silence makes me ache all over, craving her voice once more. I want to forget about the history and bury it right next to the pain and trauma that have been buried for years now. But making this quiet somewhat bearable is the silent conversation we share. We know each other well enough to do so. A shared moment the saddest of happiness and the happiest of sadness all at once.

A call comes through on my phone and I look down to the buzzing device to see it’s my wife. Guilt surges through me once again.

“Well I’d best get going,” I tell her quickly.

I need to get away. Even though all I want to so is stand her for the rest of time just to hear her voice and see her face. She’s my drug, she always has been and always will be. But I gave up a long time ago and I can’t go back to what I was, to who I was. So I need to run and rehabilitate, so I don’t get addicted again. A coward of a man is all I am, but I least I laid my eyes on her beauty once more before I never did again.

“Yeah me too,” she nod firmly, confidently.

She holds herself with so much more pride now, she knows how much she’s worth and I can see it. I’m glad.

“Goodbye Y/N,” I murmur, savouring the feeling of her name on my lips, “I wish you all the best.”

And I did. Truly I did. I wanted her to have everything she ever could dream of and then more.

“Bye Gray,” she says with a small smile that I never realised how much I’d missed seeing, “I wish you the same.”

We turn and walk our separate ways, apples in her basket, oranges in mine. I take the call from my wife and then wander aimlessly down different aisles not knowing what I was doing or where I was going anymore. Until it had been an hour and I finally made it back home. As soon as I can I get into the shower and break down. A sob silently as the water droplets run down my body, until the lungs ache and my head screams at me to stop. And even then it’s hard to. I can’t shake the regret, I can’t shake the pain, I can’t shake her voice and her face from my brain. I quietly wonder if she cried too… no. She’s far too strong. I pull myself together for the sake of the life I lead now and force myself not to think of her.

The oranges rot in the fruit bowl. I don’t think I would’ve eaten them when they were fresh anyway, I’ve never liked their immediate sourness and then the thick sugary aftertaste left to coat my throat. The next time I go to the shop I buy apples instead of oranges hoping she’d be there too, but she never was. I find myself wondering if the next time she went to the shop she bought oranges rather than apples in hope to see me. But I suppose it will remain one of the worlds’ greatest mysteries and I will never find the answer, no matter how hard I try…

a/n: I gave Gray’s pov a shot?? Don’t know how successful it was, but I hope you enjoyed anyways. Thanks for reading 🤍🤍

TIG masterlist

[joeliz99]

Draco Malfoy- The Weight of Expectations

Draco Malfoy

Sixth Year at Hogwarts

As the train rumbled along, a girl walked through the moving corridors—one whom many knew but few dared provoke. (Y/N) Athens was fierce, impenetrable, and self-sufficient. She needed nothing and no one to fulfill her own needs. Her movements were calculated yet subtle, with an impeccable elegance. Her gaze swept from compartment to compartment, searching for a young man with platinum-blonde hair whom she had spent the entire summer with. Draco Malfoy had grown up with the girl from as far back as they could remember—learning to walk together, celebrating holidays at each other's homes. They weren’t inseparable or soulmates, but they had each other nonetheless. They understood the aspects of a life based on appearances; a life complicated where perfection only masked hidden imperfection.

(Y/N) and Draco had started a relationship in their fifth year at Hogwarts. Not out of love or even attraction, but to shape a marriage that would occur once they completed their education at the school of magic. They seemed made for each other, complementing each other naturally. So, when He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named made his grand return, both were swept up by the reckless decisions their parents had made. With his father imprisoned in Azkaban and a task to complete before the end of the academic year, Draco was forced to mature and make decisions that not only protected his family's reputation but also their lives. There was no room for error. And if anyone knew the strengths and weaknesses of the young man with gray eyes and pale skin, it was her. She was determined to help him even when she had no reason to get entangled in the mess Draco was in. Both were strong on their own, but together, they were unstoppable.

When she finally locates him, she approaches with her chin slightly raised and clears her throat to announce her presence. His Slytherin companions look up, but Draco keeps his eyes fixed on the window showing the path to Hogwarts. He didn’t need to turn his head to know it was her—he had memorized the scent of the lavender perfume she always wore.

— Parkinson, Zabini. — She nods in greeting, and they return the gesture. — I’m afraid it’s time for you to find another place to sit. Draco and I need to catch up. —

— Why should I find another seat? You’re the one who just arrived, — Pansy replies bitterly, shooting her a look of disapproval. (Y/N) smiles cynically and adjusts the sleeve of her shirt to make sure it’s perfectly in place.

— You know I don’t like repeating myself. Gather your things and leave now. — Pansy clenches her jaw at this and looks to the dark-haired boy for support, who is already in the process of gathering his belongings and getting up from his seat.

— Draco... —

— You heard her, Pansy. — The blonde interrupts before his companion can finish her sentence, and the people seated on the other side of the aisle laugh mockingly. — And the same goes for you, Crabbe and Goyle. Get out of here already. —

The laughter dies instantly, and the two boys leave with barely audible complaints. (Y/N) waves Pansy off with a hand and a smile still on her face, which fades as her companions disappear from view. For the first time, Draco meets her gaze and watches as she sits down across from him, her eyes never leaving his.

— I thought you’d be sick of seeing me after spending the whole summer together. I definitely need a break from you. Honestly, you’re starting to seem like my babysitter. — The girl laughs at this and rolls her eyes playfully.

— Is that how you talk to your girlfriend, Malfoy? Should I remind you of that last night we saw each other when you started to...—

— Shut up, (Y/N). — His jaw tightens as he recalls how he had turned to her with tears in his eyes and his breathing uncontrolled. Draco had been scared then, and he was still scared now. He feared becoming a killer, losing his family, and not being able to escape the reality that was closing in on him. And even though he hated to admit it, (Y/N) was the only person who truly understood him and made him feel better in moments when nothing seemed right.

— That’s what I thought. — The girl smiles with satisfaction and casually checks her manicure. — Shouldn’t you be doing your prefect duties right now? —

— I don’t feel like it. — He shrugs nonchalantly and plays with his hands as a distraction.

— You don’t want to attract attention, Draco. — (Y/N)'s features harden slightly, showing seriousness on the matter. — If you want things to work, you can’t fail in the most basic aspects of a plan. You’ll have to act as if nothing is happening, otherwise, you’ll have too many eyes on you. We don’t need that, do you understand? —

— I don’t need you telling me what to do. — The blonde retorts disdainfully. — And don’t speak in the plural as if this is something we’re doing together. I’ve told you a thousand times I don’t want you involved in any of this. This is something I have to handle alone, so focus on your own problems and leave me alone.

A silence settles between them for a moment, and Draco opens his mouth, ready to apologize, but he can’t bring himself to do it. The corridor darkens suddenly, and all the students in the compartment begin to wonder what is happening. (Y/N) frowns and, hearing footsteps approaching, rises from her seat and takes a step towards Draco, bumping into someone she couldn’t see due to the darkness. The girl murmurs a small 'sorry,' but receives no response in return. Draco stretches out his hand to guide her towards him, and as she sits down, the corridor begins to return to its normal state, with everything back in its place. However, Draco’s gaze shifts to the luggage racks above them, noticing something wasn’t quite right. (Y/N) quickly notices this and tightens her grip on the table to snap him out of his trance. He licks his lips, shifting his attention from what was above to her.

— So, how much did you miss me over the holidays? — Draco drapes an arm over the girl’s shoulders, and she doesn’t protest, fully aware he was trying to divert the conversation due to an unexpected visitor.

— I won’t say what you want to hear, Malfoy. — She smiles, turning her gaze away, and he laughs, leaving a small kiss on her neck. — But you do seem to have missed me... a lot.

— You have no idea. — Draco whispers in her ear with a mischievous grin and nibbles on her earlobe, causing her to shiver, though she tries to maintain her composure and engage in normal conversation.

The next 30 minutes of the journey feel long and heavy for both young people, but they manage to keep their composure. As the train comes to a stop, night has fallen, and everyone is eager to reach the castle and fill their stomachs with the comforting, hot food awaiting them in the Great Hall. Students disembark from the carriages as quickly as their bodies allow, and when only Draco and (Y/N) are left to disembark, the girl heads to the exit and closes the door. She turns after drawing the curtains of the carriage with a flick of her wand and sees Draco holding his briefcase in one hand and his wand in the other.

— I think we have a visitor, love. — The boy comments with a serious expression, and (Y/N) nods, scanning the carriage casually.

— Didn’t your mother ever tell you it’s rude to eavesdrop on other people’s conversations, Potter? —

Draco raises his wand and quickly utters 'Petrificus Totalus,' and a body immediately falls to the ground. The blonde walks over and removes the blanket covering the body of his most prized enemy, his face contorting with the hatred and disdain he felt.

— Oh yes... She was dead before you could even wipe the drool off your chin. — He lifts his knee and strikes Harry Potter's nose with force, likely breaking it with the impact. — That’s for my father.

— Alright, Draco... That’s enough. — (Y/N) approaches him and extends her arm, which he intertwines with his. Draco hesitates for a moment but ends up doing what she wanted after covering the young Potter with the blanket again. — Enjoy your trip back to London, Potter.

The girl nods, signaling to the blonde that it’s time to leave, and they both exit the train with their heads held high and their expressions neutral. As they are about to board the carriages that will take them to the school entrance, (Y/N) stops and adjusts Draco’s tie in silence. The boy watches her closely as she does this, and when she feels his gaze, she looks at him in return.

— There you go, we don’t want you looking disheveled... — Draco nods and licks his lower lip, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear.

— Thanks. — He leaves a small kiss on (Y/N)’s lips, taking advantage of the closeness between them.

— We’re in this together... — Draco nods, listening to her words, and with a sigh, he separates from her and extends his hand, offering help to her as she climbs into the carriage. (Y/N) smiles at this and ignores the gesture, easily getting into the carriage on her own. — Draco raises an eyebrow when he notices this, and the girl mimics his action, looking at him.

— Come on, Malfoy, what are you waiting for? — The boy rolls his eyes and gets into the carriage, heading towards a place that no longer felt like a second home and that would change his life completely in a few months. Hogwarts would never be the same.

[blerb-f1]

"Pick up" - Charles Leclerc x fem!german!reader Part 3

Charles and Y/N are in Monaco as an invitation arrives.

This is part three! Here is part one if you'd like to read it before. Here's my masterlist if you want to see more of my writing.

Warning: french! I haven't used my french in a long while so uh PSA. It's just two sentences.

“Why exactly are you on my Yacht, Y/N?”

Charles Leclerc stood at the front of his beautiful, beloved and very expensive Yacht docked in the equally beautiful, beloved and very expensive Monaco Harbor.With his Hands placed on his hips and his white, crisp ironed Dress Shirt making him look like the average yacht owner, his expression was clouded however. Y/N L/N, his german savior could be seen lounging on deck, dressed in swimwear and large sunglasses obscuring her eyes. 

“Because.” she overly punctuated her sentences quite often. “ I get to lay in the sun and stare at Monaco! And it’s free!”

Charles stared at her and sighed. “Could you be any less cheap than this?”

“I would call myself frugal”

“Frugal? You sure about that?”

“Very much.”

She was not just frugal, she was the pure embodiment of cheapness. If a person could be more unwilling to spend a single cent, it would be the people doing extreme couponing on TV, busy with holding up lines at Walmart for three hours.

The driver just decided to accept the situation, as Y/N had already pushed him through quite a lot of these shocks over a short time. Anymore and he’d be found to have a stomach ulcer the size of a soccer ball.  As he leaned back, taking in the sun, a sense of bliss and joy felt his stomach. F1 pushed him around the planet, therefore returning home was always the best.

Then, Y/N leaned forward, offering a glass. A thin flute with colorful liquid and one of those little sparkly umbrellas attached. 

“No alcohol! No Beer before four o’clock.”

“This isn’t beer, Y/N. And that didn’t even rhyme…”

“It does in German!”

Charles took the glass, drinking the colorful juice mixture with relief. Sweet liquid on dry throat. Perfection.

Y/N turned towards him again, beginning to speak. “Say, Charlie, when’s your next race? Need me to drive you back to Italy? Or the airport?”

Grumph. She never missed the opportunity to hit the sore spot called ‘losing his physical license’. 

“No, nothing. I’ve got time now. Nothing on the schedule for the next week or so. By then i’ll have a license again.”

Before he could finish speaking however, a disturbance was approaching. Charles Mother Pascale was approaching the boat in fast steps, her expression determined. she sprinted up the little plank, coming to a stop right before her son. Pascale dug around her Handbag, pulling out a crisp envelope which she handed over. 

The envelope was quickly opened, revealing a pretty looking card. 

Charles read out aloud. 

“Dear Mr. Charles Leclerc, you are hereby invited to a traditional ball hosted at the Prince’s Palace of Monaco along with a companion of choice.”

“-the fuck?”

Y/N audibly was confused. “A Ball? In this day and age? And in the Palace? Are you that important Charles?”

Charles Leclerc was too stunned to speak.

“Y/N, I-”

He took a deep, deeeeep breath in. His lungs filled to the brim with fresh air, willing to steady his thoughts. 

“Y/N, I am Monaco's first driver in so and so many years. I have won races. Obviously I matter.”

“Hm. I really should look at sports more. I only notice Soccer because drunk soccer fans are the worst train passengers.” She then got up, snatching the invitation from his hand and reading it over. “A ball. I wonder, does it feel magical or annoying?”

“I’ve been to one or two before - unless you got someone nice accompanying you it’s just polite chatter and more alcohol than you should drink.”

“So like every social event that has ever occurred?”

“Very much.” He nodded.

Then, a thought occurred to him. The letter expressly stated ‘a companion of choice’. Last year he had taken his girlfriend but they had long broken up by now. What was the right choice now? Ask a friend? Maybe his mom?

At that moment, Y/N leaned over, putting her sunglasses on his nose. 

“Take these or you’ll go blind with that paper flashing you. The sun’s dangerous, you know!”

The solution was right before his nose. He could take Y/N.

“Say Y/N - did you ever want to go to a Ball?”

“What?”

########

The next day, after a long sleep in Pascale’s guest room, Y/N found herself seated at the parlor in one of Monaco’s biggest and most luxurious clothing salons. 

The attendant was visibly judging Y/N up and down before stepping forward to take her measurements. 

“Since the event is this evening, we have to pick one that fits you quite well. We can complete minor alterations until then, but nothing big is possible.”

Y/N simply nodded as Pascale looked around the salon. She looked quite emotional at this situation. 

“Pascale, is everything alright?”

Pascale sniffed. “I never thought I could go dress shopping with a girl!”

“Huh?” 

“I have three sons, not a single daughter. And their girlfriends never wanted to spend time with me. Lorenzo’s last one didn’t want to visit Monaco, Arthur’s is very shy and Charles? Oh Charles, he changes them so often! I can hardly remember their names! I’m so glad to have you around, finally.” 

Oh. This was bad. Y/N had totally forgotten that Pascale believed her to be Charles Girlfriend.

The older woman took a look around the store again, looking at the different fabrics and the clerc fuzz around. Finally, Y/N was allowed to state her thoughts.

“I uh. I guess something not too outstanding. I don’t know most of these people and am just here for Charles.”

“Anything else?”

“No clue what suits me. I couldn't go to my graduation ball so I’ve never worn an evening gown.”

Pascale pulled a grim face. “You never got dressed up like that? You definitely missed out.”

The attendant added. “Then, since you are unsure, how about Miss Leclerc and I pick some dresses to try?”

“I’d like that”

The attendant took that Chance to show Pascale where the right sized dresses were placed. Like pigs searching for truffles, the two were busy digging around for the right scrap of tailored fabric.

15 Minutes later, Y/N stood on top of a little walkway, dressed in a frumpy gown.

“It’s uh…”

Her brain worked hard.

"Nice."

Pascale stared at her with her eyebrows lifted. “Are you sure? You look like a frosted cupcake.”

Y/N audibly sighed. “Trying on dresses is so tiring. I never even considered that. All that work and none of them have looked good.”

“Try the next one honey, I just know that you will like one of them.”

“You sure?”

Charles' mother gave her a reassuring smile. “Yes.”

The German woman disappeared behind the curtain, fabric rustling. She finally returned, her walk more confident and her head lifted up high. The dress was beautiful yet not too busy. A jet black fabric with a light shimmer, the straps folder over her arms. The skirt trailed apart with a light slight on the side. 

Y/N grinned at her advisor, visibly content.

Pascale beamed back at her. “Is this it?”

“This is it?”

“Then let’s go to my salon to get you ready.”

########

Pascale lead Y/N to her salon, turning on the lights as she prepared one of the stylist's tables. She washed Y/N’s hair, before giving it a trim. Then, she picked out hair pins and tied it into a pretty looking, tight updo with loose pieces framing her face. She placed gem decorated pins into her hair to help it stand out more. 

As she finished, a bicycle rang outside. Another older Lady entered the store, approaching Pascale while speaking french. 

“This is my Friend, Marietta. She will do her make-up. Since she speaks french only, any of your wishes need to go through me.”

“I got nothing to say.” Y/N said. “I’m still in a daze. She definitely knows better than me”.

After being shown a photo of the dress, Marietta got working. Brushes en masse passed over her face, applying layer after layer into a beautiful artwork.

Just as she finished, the tailor also approached, bringing the altered dress and a pair of heels along. The three present helped Y/N into the gown and shoes, leading her back to the Leclerc’s place.

Pascale stopped and looked at Y/N, taking in her appearance. 

“Something is missing”

She seemed to go deep inside her mind, thinking hard. Then, she quickly rushed off. Running from room to room, she finally came back carrying quite a few things.

First of all, she handed Y/N a pair of black, long gloves.

“Gloves, you know, always make an outfit better. They prevent you from touching bad things and make you look more mysterious.”

After that, she slipped a bracelet of pearls around her right arm. Matching earrings graced her ears, the necklace decorating her neck.

Finally, she stared at Y/N again. Her eyes are getting watery.

“Y/N.. You look beautiful.”

“Really?”

“Definitely, look”

She spun the surprised woman around, facing her own reflection in the mirror.

Y/N stared at herself in awe. She didn’t know this woman. Her tired skin was gone, along with the darkened eye bags. Her hair looked so great like this, her body looking as if made for the dress covering it.

“Is this…me?”

“That’s why we like dressing up, you know.” Pascale sniffed. “You realize how pretty you truly are.”

Having worked as a train attendant for so long, with ungrateful and rude people had made Y/N less willing to care for her appearance. She hadn’t dressed up or tried in such a long time, this truly was a special moment for her.

Then, the door opened. “Maman, je suis retourné! Est-ce tu finis de choisir une robe pour Y/N?”

Pascale called back. “Oui Charlie. Allez, Allez! Viens ici, regarde la!”

Charles opened the door,  carrying a bag with something. He looked good, all dressed up. Yet, as he caught her appearance he dropped his bag. 

“Y/N?” he asked in surprise.

Y/N gave him a spin. “Do I look that bad?”

Charles Leclerc was too stunned to speak. Again.

“You don’t look bad.” He shook his head. Seeing his moms angry expression, he quickly added. “You look breathtaking.”

Y/N stretched her hand towards his. “Then, shall we get going? I’m glad you picked me up. I would have been scared if you had me go somewhere on my own”

####################

Taglist:

Next part is the last one!

If you want to be tagged, let me know!

Translations:

"Maman, I'm back! Did you finish picking a dress for Y/N?"

"Yes i did. Hurry up, come look!"

############

@itsjustkhaos

@appl3-0rchard

@barcelonaloverf1life

@randomnessis-mine-me

[djuvlipen]

When my father found out I am gay, he beat me brutally, but today I help other LGBT+ Romani people

Patrik Kotlár's coming out was not easy, encumbered as it was by discrimination and his own family's incomprehension. Instead of giving up, though, he decided to overcome those obstacles and use his experience to aid others.

He established the nonprofit organization Romany Art Workshop 13 years ago, offering arts workshops, educational programs to develop community activism and leadership, and sports activities in Tanvald, Czech Republic. He also collaborates with the ARA ART organization.

In November 2023 the two organizations opened a community club in Jablonec nad Nisou and will open another in Frýdlant. These clubs will become places for members of the LGBT+ minority to meet each other and give each other support, as well as places for Romani people from excluded localities to gather.

Patrik (36) is inspiring to those who want to overcome such obstacles themselves and become the voices of change. “As a schoolchild I myself was not aware of my sexual orientation. My schoolmates told me what they thought, though,” he starts his story.

The insults he endured were unpleasant and he believed his friends were absolutely crazy. He did not begin to realize what his sexual orientation was until the age of 16, as a high school student studying social work.

He did not decide to come out until two years later, when he began his first partner relationship. He met his then-boyfriend on a train.

It never even occurred to him that anybody around him might take a negative view of his being gay. “While I had been raised my whole life in the Christian spirit of a man belonging to a woman, I never worried about that for myself. I accepted my orientation as a fact and I never thought that it was supposed to be wrong,” he admits.

He began visiting a gay bar in Liberec after fully realizing and admitting his orientation. He and his friends enjoyed going to the disco there.

One day, however, a group of Romani people who knew his father saw Patrik leaving that bar and immediately informed his father. “Dad was unable to stomach it and he beat me brutally for it,” Patrik says, adding that it is still difficult for him to talk about what happened.

Being outed to his father by others was the beginning of the end for him, and he found himself in total isolation, cut off from contact with most of his family and former friends. The suddenness of the situation also had a negative impact on his studies because he was forced to drop out just before graduation.

“I was afraid my father might even kill me unless I left Liberec,” he says. He was on the run from his father’s aggression for more than a year, hiding in various locations all over the country, but his father always managed to track him down.

“Whether I hid in Plzeň, Brno, Pardubice or the capital, my father always found out where I was at the time. It was exhausting, I lived in constant fear that he would find me and harm me. In his eyes I had caused the entire family unreal shame. However, nobody else in my family reproached me for my orientation and accepted me without any problems,” he said.

A childhood without a mother

When Patrik speaks of his family, he does not mean his mother, because he got no support from her as he was growing up. His mother abandoned the family when he was nine.

Patrik says his mother was an alcoholic and, after disagreements with his father, who wanted her to stop drinking, she always left the family for some time before eventually returning. She never gave up drinking.

One day she left for good and the family never saw her alive again. “My childhood was sad without my mother, to this day I say I basically never had a childhood,” Patrik recalls.

“Dad was older when we were born, and he raised us with a strict hand. As children we were never allowed to go anywhere besides school and music lessons, we had no personal space,” he reminisces.

Patrik never managed to re-establish contact with his mother. He heard from acquaintances more than once that she was homeless in Košice, Slovakia, and another time that she was in Bratislava, but when he and his sister went there, they were unable to find her.

One day an older sibling who had long since flown the nest let them know they needed to meet in Brno and immediately head for Slovakia because their mother was dying and wanted to see everybody one last time. They did not hesitate and set off after her at once.

Patrik’s father’s health was also not the best. Since they had last been in contact he had developed symptoms of Alzheimer’s and other diseases.

“He asked my sister to send a message to me to come home and that he wouldn’t do anything bad to me. I obeyed and our relationship actually improved. It took a while for him to reconcile himself to my orientation and get used to my boyfriend at the time, but he didn’t shout abuse at either of us or attempt to harm us in any way. Ultimately my sister, my then-boyfriend and I took care of my father in his most difficult moments. He died nine years ago today,” he says.

Aiding others is the priority

His personal experience of discrimination in his family led Patrik to establish the Romany Art Workshop nonprofit organization 13 years ago. The organization concentrates on aiding adults and children grappling with social exclusion.

The NGO prepares primary school pupils to apply to high school, offers recreational activities and summer camps, and holds arts workshops which will be transformed this year into an academy for talented youth. The academy will concentrate on the arts and music and its instruction will be comparable to that of an arts school at the primary level.

The main aim of the NGO, however, is to lead local Romani people to emancipate themselves with the aid of community activism and leadership training. Patrik is convinced it is important to show Romani youth the opportunities that exist to engage in public affairs and to create new activities in the places where they live.

Patrik says he believes individuals can contribute to the better integration of Roma into society through such engagement. He himself is an example.

Before establishing the nonprofit, Patrik led Bengale Manusha, a professional, three-generational ensemble, for two years. On the sidelines, his NGO is working with the LGBT+ minority in the Liberec Region, the members of which are turning to them more and more often.

The decision to fully dedicate the organization to the subject was made after Patrik learned of a tragic event – one such 17-year-old Romani youth took his own life because nobody understood him. “I realized that even though we have personal experience with this, we lack deeper expertise,” he admits.

For that reason, he decided to collaborate with the ARA ART organization, which has long concentrated on the LGBT+ subject. Thanks to their collaboration, they were able to open a community club in Jablonec nad Nisou in November, where their volunteers had previously been working.

People from neighboring towns like Tanvald or Železný Brod seek out their services. Soon a club will also open in Frýdlant.

As in Jablonec, that club will provide expert counselling to LGBT+ Romani people. A psychotherapist is also available there to aid clients not just with coming out, but to also answer parents’ questions when they want to learn more about the LGBT+ minority.

The organizations currently have 200 clients, 50 of whom are LGBT+. “The community center is not intended just for LGBT+ people, but also for Romani people from socially disadvantaged environments. We provide various recreational activities and because they come here regularly, we believe they like it here,” Patrik boasts, adding that in addition they are endeavoring to build up mutual dialogue in a natural format about overcoming obstacles and creating a safe space for all.

“I am surprised by how the times are gradually changing and how the Roma are more open to same-sex couples or to people who are transitioning from male to female and vice versa. What has contributed to this are the different reality shows with gay people as the main protagonists, and we know figures like Jan Bendig. He speaks absolutely openly about his orientation and thousands of Roma from all generations follow him,” Kotlár believes.

Nevertheless, he does perceive differences between the various towns. In Jablonec nad Nisou, which is approximately 14 km from Liberec, Romani people are not disturbed to see two men dancing together during a social event.

In Liberec, on the other hand, there are many gay people who are still in the closet because they have the feeling that those around them are not open toward them. “We will do our best to change that for the better, step by step,” Patrik concludes optimistically.

[stellanslashgeode]

I'm happily educating myself on all things Barriss via your wonderful blog. If you'd ever feel like unpacking more of your Wrong Jedi thoughts/intrigue, I'd love to hear more of your analysis.

Oh my, you've put a quarter in the machine now you have to hear the whole song.

The arc is very divisive with Barriss enjoyers because her character veers so far from her Legends depiction. She was a pretty prominent character in the original Clone Wars multimedia project and was a caring and selfless healer. And the arc doesn't do much to explain her motivations for turning.

Another thing that vexes me is because it is essentially a police procedural (they even hired a writer from Third Watch for this arc) so much occurs off-screen. So, we do not know quite what happened but have to infer.

Let's start with motivation. In her very few post The Wrong Jedi appearances they've tried to hint at Barriss falling mainly though post-traumatic stress disorder. And that's sort of a good explanation? She was at Geonsis at the start of the war, and was one of two Padawans we know of IN the arena who lived and the other was Anakin! You have to think this is a healer, someone who was trained to be a pacifist, and the battle was so sudden and frantic that she had to witness other Padawans she knew in the creche die all around her and she was too busy defending herself to do anything. So that's trauma and guilt. The short story A Jedi's Duty shows that she sat out nearly the entire first year of the war healing others back at the temple, explaining why she wasn't there to deal with Asajj Ventress with Luminara in TCW season 1. Also, she is having trouble sleeping because of memories of that first battle. She asked for help but they told her to meditate if she couldn't sleep, but she couldn't meditate properly because of this haze of the dark side invading her perceptions. She's even having trouble Force healing and she feels guilty that others are taking risks that she is unwilling to take. She consults with an old friend, Tutso Mara and is finally able to meditate, but right then Luminara calls her to a briefing, and wouldn't you know it, they're going to Geonosis again. She is frightened but memorizes the tunnel formations under the weapons factory they need to destroy because that's her duty to the Light and to her Order. The last scene is her joining Luminara and Gree to depart for the battle. And it's such an ironic story because Master Mara is one of her later victims and the place she bombs is right there in the temple hangar where the story ends. I think that's why she chose it as her target, it was the place she went from safety to chaos.

And what happens next? She almost is buried alive Right Away, then as she's reeling from that she gets a Geonocian brain worm. She was also at the Battle of Umbara, and you know how that goes. So I guess trauma is a fairly good reason, as well as her love and admiration of Jedi ethics and pedagogy that just went right out the window when the Jedi had to do what it took to fight in this war. Barriss is a bookworm, all that heritage meant something to her. And really, that was the purpose of the war, to isolate the Jedi by having them betray their morals and sully their reputation with the public.

Fanfiction writers also can pick and choose from Legends, such as all the crazy stuff that happened to her on Drongar but that's a story for another day.

So we get to the Wrong Jedi Arc itself. We aren't shown how she meets Letta Turmond, how much of a partnership that was. Letta says Barriss was the mastermind of the operation but that's after she's jailed. I don't trust her. I mean, Letta is a grown woman and while Barriss was an idealistic and heartsick Jedi at that point she's just 17-18 according to Feloni. I can see it as a situation where a teenager gets politically radicalized and taken advantage by a woman she trusts. If we get a Letta flashback in Tales of the Empire I will be so happy!

Ahsoka is framed. But there's a multi-step aspect to it. Part A, Letta calls Ahsoka to the prison because she was told she was the only Jedi her collaborator trusted and gets Force choked by someone we do not see. Part B, after she is arrested someone leaves a key card outside her cell and she follows a trail of first injured then dead clones to make it look like she broke out and went on a killing spree. Part C is the only one we actually see start to finish, where Ahsoka contacts Barriss and she lures her to the factory that made the nano-droids.

Barriss is guilty of Part C. But did she do Part A and B? She was at the funeral with Ahsoka and heard same time as her that she was transferred to a military compound. Then in the maybe hour, two hours Ahsoka was in a mission briefing Barriss supposedly broke into a brand-new high security compound, got in the walls, and strangled Letta as Ahsoka was in the cell alone with her. Then Part B, she hung around undetected for a few more hours to set up the escape while also erasing the audio off the recording of the murder.

I personally think Palpatine MIGHT have done part A. He has much greater access and he has the motive (to take away a pillar of stability for Anakin). If Barriss did do Part A, what was the motivation? The most pessimistic reading is she did it to save her own skin and purposely framed Ahsoka. Another is that Barriss genuinely talked up Ahsoka to Letta, and did NOT do so to set her up but because she was one of the lonely girl's only friends (and maybe love interest) and then Letta goes ahead and calls her there, Barriss is in the walls, and she just cannot have Ahsoka's opinion of her ruined. She killed Letta to silence her from tainting this one friendship she had left, did so out of panic, and wasn't thinking of the consequences. Then Part B, oh no I got my girlfriend framed for murder. So she springs her out. So why does she kill those clones to further frame her?

Consider the conversation after the funeral, "Ahsoka, do you think it is right for us to ignore our emotions?" I think the subtext there was "Ahsoka, I'm hurting so much, join me to stop me." She was feeling her out to see if she felt the same about the war as she did. And she did Part B to see if Ahsoka would run, SO THEY COULD RUN AWAY TOGETHER. Sure, it's manipulative as all Hell, but that's the dark side for you. It was a test, and Ahsoka failed because as soon as she gets out, she calls Barriss to help clear her name. So that she could get back to the war. The war Barriss hates with all her being. So that's why she did Part C. She had been alienated by the Order and her own master by all these deployments and the one person left who she valued was buying into the propaganda that the Jedi needed to finish this war. It broke her. And she did something awful.

All and all I think her fall is fascinating because it wasn't for personal power or attachments, she wanted to sacrifice her own grace to save the souls of all other Jedi. She did it out of love for the Order, even if it came in such a twisted and destructive form. That's also why she'd become a lousy Inquisitor. They're the anthesis of all she stood for, an army fighting for the dark side.

I know a lot of fans hate this arc but... man that speech! I spent the whole Prequel trilogy and TCW waiting for a Jedi to stand up and say "What we are doing is wrong, we should stop." Yoda and Mace know their path is leading to the dark, but they see no other way but through. I just wanted someone to say no with their whole chest. And it was Barriss. That's why I love her, your honor. I admire the idealists, her and Satine. They should have teamed up and put a stop too all that nonsense.

Sorry this is so long? I have a lot of FEELINGS and now you can see why I have a lot of trepidation about this Saturday. You know, I thought of you last night when I was rewatching Tales of the Jedi. It was the scene were Dooku was leaving to meet Palpatine with Yaddle following in The Sith Lord. I was imagining how you felt watching that for the first time, and I remembered my reaction was "Oh no, it's the temple hangar! Barriss is going to blow the shit out of this place in a decade and change!"

[fayes-fics]

It Had To Be You: Chapter 2 - Pour myself a cup of ambition

Masterpost PREV | NEXT

Pairings: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader (also features Thomas Dorset x fem!reader, Benedict Bridgerton x Tessa), Modern AU

Chapter Summary: Set 5 years after Chapter 1 (linked above). As your job takes you abroad for the very first time, you bump into the last person you expect on another shared journey full of revelations.

artwork credit: @colettebronte

Warnings: none really… some sexual language, swear words, bickering, and flirting.

Word Count: 2.2k

Authors Note: Unbetaed. Chapter 2 of my multi-chapter modern rom-com, heavily inspired by When Harry Met Sally. Sorry that it's taken a while to get this next part written. I hope you all enjoy! <3

7 years ago (5 Years Later)

You stand just before the security gates at St Pancras International, engaging in a rare PDA moment. But you justify to yourself that this is the first time you have had to go away on business since you started your new relationship three months ago, and this one seems like great potential. Dr Tom Dorset. Friendly, sweet, handsome and, so far at least, well-adjusted and emotionally mature. Your friends agree he’s quite the catch. And he is pretty fantastic in all sorts of other ways too. You certainly have no complaints in the bedroom.

Just as he whispers how much he will miss you and kisses that spot on your neck that makes you a little weak, your moment is interrupted.

“Tom? Tom Dorset? Is that you?”

There in front of you is the man you thought you would never see again. Looking a few years older and dressed better, but there’s no doubt who it is. You’d never forget those eyes.

“Ben? Ben Bridgerton?!” Tom seems delighted, and it occurs to you that they must be old friends as Tom takes his arms from around you and shakes his hand warmly. Just fucking great.

“I thought it was you! I haven't seen you for years! Was the last time when I came to Ant’s at Trinity?! What have you been up to?”

“Medical school mostly,” Tom offers demurely, then turns to you. “Oh, sorry, Ben, this is y/n y/l/n, y/n this is Ben Bridgerton; I was his brother’s roommate at Trinity College, Oxford.”

Ben’s eyes cut to you, and you see a confused look pass over his face; like you are familiar, but he can’t place why. 

“Well, I must get this train, but it was great to see you! Email me!” Ben smiles warmly, and with one last brow knit in your direction, he takes off. 

“Thank fuck he didn’t remember me,” you exhale loudly when he is out of earshot.

“Ben?” Tom looks confused.

“Yes, We drove from St Andrews to London together five years ago, and it was the worst road trip I think I've ever had,” you bemoan. “He was dating a friend of mine, and I agreed to split the drive. Urgh, it was terrible. He’s so obnoxious.”

Tom looks over your shoulder. “Well, looks like he just got on your train, honey, so umm, good luck with that,” he chuckles, bemused as you roll your eyes.

“Just fucking great,” you sigh sarcastically and plant your head on Tom’s shoulder as he draws you into his safe, warm embrace again. 

“I love you; I will miss you,” he says softly, cupping your jaw lovingly as he gently kisses your lips.

It's only the second time he has said it, and your heart flutters as you break into a huge smile. “I love you too. I will be back before you know it,” you promise, pulling him in for a passionate kiss you hope he will remember.

As you part, he exhales raggedly. “God, now I’ll miss you even more.”

“Mmm, that’s the point,” you whisper coquettishly and run a hand down his back, inside his coat, unseen by people around you. “Text me, sexy stuff,” you request quietly, then gently bite his bottom lip.

He groans, “Good god, woman, get on that train before I drag you somewhere or buy a ticket to join you.”

___

You are still giggling and feeling so fizzy and light, like champagne is in your blood, as you skip onboard the train to Paris. Taking your seat in First Class that you’ve been assigned by work feels like such a luxury; excited to cover your first story abroad.

Your phone pings just as the train slips out of the station. Love you. Safe travels. Txx

You can’t help your little titter of happiness, and just as you go to type a reply, someone leans over from the seat diagonally behind you, across the aisle.

“I swear I recognise that giggle. The University of St Andrews?” 

It’s Ben. Of course, it is. Thanks for that fate.

“Yes,” you sigh, not turning around, annoyed he doesn't remember more detail. How could he possibly forget calling you beautiful? Your traitorous brain yells in your skull.

“Did we date?” he questions.

You can't help but almost snort at that. “Hell no!” You twist around. “You were dating my friend Gen. We drove to London together after term ended.”

“Oh, I remember now!” he smiles, “you wouldn't give me a Malteser.”

“You propositioned me!” you blurt out as you watch him pull an apple out of his bag.

“No, I didn't,” he laughs, “I just said you were beautiful,” and he takes a bite out of the fruit. “You still are, if it's any consolation,” he offers, around a mouthful.

“None whatsoever,” you fib, feeling your cheeks heat at the compliment. “And you still talk while you eat, like an animal,” you roll your eyes, barely believing how riled up you are from exchanging less than five sentences.

“Would you two like to sit together?” the man opposite you at the table offers.

“No, that's really not….” you begin.

“Yes, thanks!” Ben interrupts, and you scowl at him as he stands immediately, throwing his bag down next to you before swinging over as the man moves aside.

“So you were going to be a journalist?” he winks after he settles into the seat opposite you.

Up close now, he is still just as handsome as he was. Maybe more so, jaw more defined and smattered with stubble. The utter arsehole.

“I am a journalist. My internship at the Guardian turned into a job. I'm going to Paris to cover the climate summit,” you state proudly, squaring your shoulders a little. “You?”

“Visiting my fiancee,” he grins, and something twinges in your gut. Maybe getting tacos for lunch wasn’t a good idea.

“You are getting married? You?” you laugh in total disbelief.

And you are suddenly back in your old studio flat, hearing more about his player reputation. A few months after the drive to London, Gen came to crash on your sofa and commiserate her reentry to single life. She didn't seem that upset about the dalliance ending, to be fair, mostly about how much she’d miss the ‘fucking mind-blowing fucking’ as she had so indelicately put it. You can see the words floating like a speech bubble above her face in your mind “Y/n, I can live without the dick attitude, but damn, I don’t know that I wanna live without that dick, you know?” Then threw herself face-first into a cushion. You cut off her margaritas at that point. How much that had to do with not wanting to think about him and his member, you decided not to dwell on.

“Yes,” he cuts into your reverie. “Her name is Tessa. She's an artist too. She's Parisian.”

“Tres chic.”

“How long have you been with Dorset? Wait, don’t tell me. Let me guess,” he smirks.

You fold your arms and raise an eyebrow. “This ought to be good,” you mutter as much to yourself as to him.

“Hmm, three months?” 

Dammit. How did the bastard get it spot on?

“Why?” you try to bluff, but the victorious crooked grin that unfurls over his face shows he knows he's right without you having to say it.

“Goodbye before a trip. Classic three-month behaviour,” he opines, taking another huge bite of his apple.

“Glad to see your eating habits have at least got healthier,” you state dryly, trying to change tack.

“Tessa likes to eat healthily,” he explains with an almost dreamy expression. Part of you is already impressed by this woman you have never met who has turned the human rubbish bin into a more impressive version of a man. “Has he told you he loves you?” he queries, spittling just a speck of apple onto the table.

“Why is that ANY of your business?” you frown.

“Because if he hasn't, he's a fool,” he shrugs casually as if those words aren't some of the sweetest you’ve heard.

“Luckily, he’s no fool,” you respond, confirming without actually confirming.

He nods. “Good. Dorset is a good one. Don't ‘y/n’ him away,” he jests, using air quotes.

“What the fuck does that mean?” you spit, suddenly whiplash angry when just a few moments ago you were impressed with his sweetest.

“You can't smoke in my car. Eating that will kill you,” he adopts a high-pitched voice and waggles his head as he mocks you.

“Fuck you,” you grumble.

“I would have, happily, but you said no,” he winks, and you want to punch him.

“I thought you just denied propositioning me!” 

He just shrugs and laughs loudly. You can tell everyone around you is most amused by your back and forth, so instead, you shoot him a glare and then change tack, staring out of the window as the countryside of Kent zips by. So irritated you forget to text Tom back for another five minutes.

___

“Do you know anyone in Paris?” he asks, pulling out an AirPod as you close your laptop sometime later. 

The train is somewhere under the Channel, and the darkness of the tunnel outside the window makes the train feel a touch more intimate, claustrophobic even.

“No,” you admit.

“How about Tessa and I take you out for dinner?” he proposes.

“Isn't tonight your first night together in a while?” you frown.

“Yeah… and?” he seems to be either not catching your train of thought or being intentionally obtuse, goading you into a trap to state the obvious.

“I would have thought you'd be otherwise occupied,” you arch an eyebrow pointedly.

“Oh…” he suddenly catches your drift and, rather adorably, a spot of pink dust his lovely cheekbones. OK, maybe not the latter.

“Certainly not wanting a third wheel, like me hanging around,” you point out meekly with a knowing smile.

“If that is your way of offering a threesome, I’m down,” he flirts, his voice suddenly velvet smooth, so much so the hairs on the back of your neck prickle up.

“God’s sake,” you mutter, feigning more indignation than you actually have.

“You're the one who told me about your lesbian experiences at uni!” he argues defensively.

“I was just trying to prove a point!” 

“Got to be honest, don't remember a damn thing except the visual that almost had me drive into a bus shelter,” he admits with a chuckle.

“And take out that delivery cyclist,” you remind, joining in.

There is a moment where your eyes meet in a joint nostalgia of amusement, and something feels softer between you.

“Listen, Tess’s brother is a chef at a great little bistro; we will almost certainly end up there anyway, as we usually always do. I'm sure she would be delighted for you to join us,” the sincerity of his offer touches you.

“Thanks, but I have to do some research ahead of tomorrow. I’ll probably just order room service and crash out,” you admit, knowing that is a lame response.

“Fair enough. Well, let's at least exchange numbers this time. Stay in touch? If you are at a loose end at any point, let me know, and we’ll happily give you a tour or just grab a drink?”

“Okay”, you capitulate and hand over your phone for him to punch in his number.

“Wonderful” he smiles genuinely, and his hazy eyes dance. “Are we finally becoming friends?” he teases gently as he seems to fiddle a little longer than needed to put in a few digits.

“I guess so,” you respond with a laugh.

He hands back your phone, and weirdly it's screen locked.

“Good, And as my very first act as your friend, may I make a comment you are not allowed to take offence to?” he questions, with an odd tone.

Your dander is suddenly way up. “Whatttt?” you elongate the word rife with suspicion.

He leans over the train table suddenly, and you startle as his lips are warm against the shell of your ear, your heart-rate spiking. “You have a fucking fantastic pair of tits,” he murmurs.

You splutter, shame, outrage and desire flooding your system in almost equal measure. Incapable of forming words, you sharply pull back into your seat and shoot him your most sour glare.

“Maybe don't hand your phone over when it’s open to the message thread with your boyfriend,” he chuckles.

You feel mortified, recalling the photo you'd texted Tom last night as a going-away present, and you are almost blinded as the train suddenly swoops out of the tunnel and sunlight floods into the compartment.

In fact, you are grateful that he gets a call just at that moment. It seems to last ages, and he wanders away, probably to find the buffet car, knowing him. By the time you see him making his way back through the carriage, the train is pulling into Gare Du Nord. You are on your feet and walking to the next carriage to alight. Not certain you can live down your embarrassment. 

There are a few moments as you wander around Paris over the next two days when your fingers itch to dial his number… but you never do, something always stopping you. Bizarrely, you think it might be the idea of meeting his fiancee, and you have no idea what that means, so avoidance seems like the best tactic.

After all, he’s probably moving to Paris soon, so really, what's the point?

Benedict taglist: @makaylan @foreverlonginguniverse @iboopedyournose @colettebronte @aintnuthinbutahounddog @severewobblerlightdragon @margofiore @writergirl-2001 @heeyyyou @enichole445 @enchantedbytomandhenry @ambitionspassionscoffee @chaoticcalzoneranchsports @nikaprincessofkattegat @baebee35 @crowleysqueenofhell @bridgertontess @fiction-is-life @lilacbeesworld @angels17324 @broooookiecrisp @queen-of-the-misfit-toys @eleanor-bradstreet @divaanya @musicismyoxygen84 @benedictspaintbrush @miindfucked @sorryallonsy @lilithseve @cayt0123 @hottytoddyhistory @truly-dionysus @fictionalmenloversblog @zinzysstuff @malpalgalz

[janetkwallace]

On the consequences of the Burmecian Genocide

You don't have to agree with what I'm about to say.

As a matter of fact, you can disagree as much as you want, I'm not saying that what I say is the right thing or that my view is better than yours. Everyone hold different views on the things they like and they don't, and today I'm writing about something I both like and dislike about one of my favorite games. The thing is, I don't like to do this sort of analysis where I comment on the negatives of my favorite stuff, even if I were to do it with a bit of humor.

Well, do not expect any humor.

I was kinda hesitant to write about it, but then I found myself writing it on a whim, so here we go... There is no turning back.

I've written about my thoughts on Final Fantasy IX before, its goods and its flaws. I've said what I had to say about the second visit to Alexandria during Disc 2, aka the point in the game where my enjoyment for the story has significantly decreased, it did not ran out as the game is still good after that point, but for me things were no longer the same as they did during the first hours of gameplay.

If you read the title, you know what I'll be commenting on today. So, genocide... It happens across most of the Final Fantasy games, it's shown to be very graphic when it happens, and IX was no different. Disc 1 ends with the party visiting Gizamaluke's Grotto, and later Burmecia, places filled with dead soldiers and NPCs lying down on the streets. The bleak atmosphere combined with haunting music adds a lot to these scenes. When the party fights against the Black Mages at Cleyra, each fight doesn't end with a victory pose... Because there's no victory when lots of innocents are annihilated by a powerful attack all at once. Later, when you revisit Lindblum, a giant monster is swallowing everything in its dark void, from knights to people to Black Mages themselves, it doesn't matter who gets sucked in or whose corpses fall in midair.

Pretty graphic, don't you think? The scenes do not include any blood or gore, it's just these little gruesome details that the player clearly sees with their eyes, this nightmarish stuff that happens and you can't do jack about it. One of my praises for Final Fantasy IX is for doing these sorts of things and not being afraid of doing it so. Sometimes it's whimsical fantasy, and other times a bleak, chaotic mess that belongs to dark fantasy, all of it happens in one game that most people – and I still can't believe it – think it's for children or that because it's geared towards children it has to dumb down a lot of themes they can’t grasp by themselves.

It doesn't. From the beginning, it’s clear that people do die, and it doesn't matter if your party members are well-trained or skilled, people in the world still die. I believe this is one of the core themes present in the games Sakaguchi worked with, that death is inevitable and out of the player's control. The original Final Fantasy VII had a lot of scenes revolved around said theme, such as when Barret meets his old friend Dyne or the main antagonist revealed to be a walking corpse who and whose mother – also a corpse – refuses to die in contrast with a party member whose sacrifices gives everyone else a chance to live.

I'm not here to talk about VII, maybe someday, but returning to the main point... The Burmecian genocide that occurs in Final Fantasy IX is shocking due everything I've said before, but the consequences of it are not fully explored. It's something that not only happens in this game, but a problem with the Final Fantasy series as a whole where the act of genocide is shown to be a horrifying event that leads to many casualties, and yet, very little is told or shown in the aftermath. Sure, there is an attempt to show the Burmecians leading their lives after the invasion, a few NPCs in Lindblum and some Cleyrans who managed to flee their settlement that are spread across the entire world, but it's not enough.

Genocide not only kills people, but their culture. How does the Burmecian culture look like after the genocide? Do people want to go home or do they want to build a new home elsewhere? The destruction of symbols can be demoralizing, so do any of the Burmecians feel sad or guilty or depressed after witnessing the collapse of their birthplace? Do other NPCs consider Burmecians as victims or do they see the mass murder as a justified act, given the few times conflicts between Burmecia and Alexandria were mentioned? What about the Cleyrans, what do they have to say about the giant crater that lies where Cleyra used to be? Are there any attempts from the citizens of Burmecia to restore their homeland to its full glory or is that something impossible to be achieved?

We see Lindblum in ruins and during its reconstruction, but nothing happens in Burmecia, it's abandoned the way it is since Disc 1. You could say that's a result of disc limitation at the time, and yes, while the limits of what can fit inside a 700mb disc plays a factor, it isn't the sole reason why a lot of things about Final Fantasy IX and other games from the series feel rushed or underdeveloped.

I'd say it's not only a lack of digital space, or budget constraints , but I do see it as a lack of care too, which's weird to think about since a lot of effort was put on the game, its story, characters, graphics, the backgrounds that we see for just a second and then never again, all of that done with such intricate and pure detail, and then you have stuff that isn't very well executed or explored. Disc 4 is there to show this dissonance of "let's put lots of details in these background elements" combined with "the story goes crazy and we will offer cryptic explanations as to why this happens and the characters in the party barely react to the information".

In the end, nothing that I wish for will be true. This game is called "Final Fantasy IX", not "Burmecian Fantasy IX", after all. They were never meant to be given any focus, but that doesn't mean they're irrelevant or any less important than anything else that takes place in the game.

[aaronstveit]

i would loooove to hear more of your director's commentary about deep end! <3 not sure how much you can say without spoiling but did you make a lot of changes from the original draft? and are there any scene that didn't make it into the final fic? thank youuu <3

omg hi anon this question made my entire day <3333 gonna answer beneath a read more as always because when talking about deep end i am this trc meme

okay so firstly! i wrote deep end 3 times. the original draft had a final wordcount of 126,978 words. the middle draft had a final wordcount of 175,065 words. the final draft's wordcount is not finalized yet because i am still editing & still adding one scene to the epilogue, but obviously we've already surpassed the first draft's wordcount, so that's fun.

as you can see, about 50k words were added in the middle draft! there are a lot of reasons for this. chapters 8 & 9, as well as about half of chapter 10, did not exist in the original draft. i added them during rewriting because i felt we hadn't spent enough time with enjolras & cosette.

combeferre and éponine were almost nonexistent in the original draft. not just as a couple, but individually as well. every single grantaire & éponine scene was added in the middle draft, and most of enjolras & combeferre's scenes as well.

i actually didn't cut any full scenes out! there were quite a few though where i started writing a scene, realized it was wrong, and erased what i had written and started over. for instance, this bit in chapter 18:

in the original draft, i tried writing enjolras turning to grantaire at this point and saying, "I think I'm in love with you," before cosette answered the door. obviously, i ended up deciding against this, mostly because i decided the kiss scene would pack more of a punch if enjolras realizes he's in love with grantaire right when he's in the middle of their argument.

i also deleted soooooooooo many arguments. this is probably surprising considering how often they argue in this fic, but at least once a chapter i really had to stop myself and say, okay no this is getting unhealthy. i enjoy writing arguments too much apparently - which is good for writing exr, but only to a certain extent.

originally, grantaire was not going to have a sister. it genuinely did not even occur to me until chapter 11 (which was chapter 8 at the time), but once it did occur to me, i couldn't not do it. his grief plotline became way too dear to me way too quickly.

the biggest changes i made during writing all had to do with reordering events!! originally, karaoke happened somewhere around chapter 8. i ended up moving it wayyyyyyyyy back because i felt like their flirting was out of place so early in the story.

i also moved enjolras' arguments with cosette and grantaire to an earlier point than i originally intended. at first, i thought they were going to happen around the second-to-last chapter, but i moved them forward a lot earlier because i thought more work needed to be done with enjolras.

the chapter that underwent the most changes from the middle draft to the finished draft is chapter 24. obviously i can't say just yet what those changes are, but i'm really really happy with how that chapter turned out and i hope you all will be as well <3

several of my personal favorite scenes in this fic are actually cannibalized from something i tried writing and gave up on a few months ago. marius getting mugged in chapter 4, the hamlet conversation in chapter 7, and enjolras tending to grantaire's broken nose in chapter 14 were all taken from the same abandoned wip.

as for some more random tidbits that i find fun:

a fun fact for everyone is that cosette did not pull the phrase "who has a flag where he should have a heart" out of thin air! she takes this from courfeyrac in chapter 13:

which is why courfeyrac winces when enjolras says it in chapter 19:

also in chapter 19, enjolras means to say that Train to Busan is his favorite horror movie ending. i didn't just choose that because i love that movie (although i really really do) but because. well. i'm not going to spoil the ending for you if you haven't seen it, but... it was very deliberate is all i'm saying.

i really cannot overstate how much of this fic only exists because of cossette notebookmusical. for starters, i only even attempted writing it because she said "jamie if you don't write this." she also got to spend months listening to me bitch about it and receiving so many horrible snippets from the original draft so coco, if you're reading this, thank you from the very bottom of my heart 🫶🏻

more specifically, the entire beginning sequence of chapter 17 with grantaire staying the night at enjolras' apartment was inspired by cossette! i was asking her for situations to put the blond man in and one of her ideas was that he loses his keys. so everyone say thank you cossette!

also the bit in chapter 19 where enjolras thinks about combeferre a psychology minor is the worst thing to ever happen to you was added after i said something to cossette and she said something along the lines of, "would you like to elaborate on that?"

the ending bit of chapter 23 is also inspired by and written for cossette. you'll see what i mean in a few weeks.

there are a lot more bits and pieces inspired by things that cossette has said and done, or added just to make her laugh, but if i listed all of them i would be here forever. just know that this entire fic is cocoservice and it is only because of cossette that it exists at all <333333

there is also a collection of scenes i'm considering writing as "bonus content" for when the fic is fully posted - mostly scenes that already exist, but from another point of view, and a few that are only mentioned in passing.

okay i'm cutting myself off now because this is a lot of yapping even for me but you may always ask more if you're so inclined <3333 thank you sm for asking i had so much fun answering this! i really can't tell you how much it means to me not only that you're not only reading but also enjoying it so much that you're asking about it like... this is literally a fic writer's DREAM. thank you so so so much <3333