#on the laptop it’s all the fingers and i used to play piano but that’s not the same keyboard at all

[yundeob]

the parent trap | KHJ

part 1 of the Night in Hollywood!series

☆ trope: exes to lovers!au, divorced!au

☆ pairing: producer!hongjoong x designer!reader, dad!joong x mom!reader

☆ warnings: nsfw (mdni), swearing, mentions of food, mentions of food poisoning, female desc. reader, drinking, suggestiveness, smut, slight!breeding kink, oral sex (f. receiving), overstim, unprotected sex (wrap before you tap!) nipple play, titty sucking, marking, praise, slightdom!joong, blond!joong bc that itself is too much for me, mentions of (early) pregnancy, you’re both in your early thirties and make an unbelievably stubborn couple in this!

☆ synopsis: AS DIVORCED PARENTS to two twin daughters, you and hongjoong have your fair share of work cut out. Driving to piano lessons, cheering at hockey games, drop offs at each other’s houses, it can all be a little much. But could a relaxing summer retreat as a whole family possibly rekindle past emotions you’ve swept under the rug? . . .

☆ word count: 18.1k

☆ playlist: soulful strut by young-holt unlimited, l-o-v-e by nat king cole, just the way you are by billy joel, slipping through my fingers by abba, this will be (an everlasting love) by natalie cole

☆ a/n: it’s finally here. I can’t believe I’m writing this and saying it’s finally here oh my goodness. first off, thank you from the bottom of my heart to everyone who has supported me with the series so far (shoutout to @kitten4sannie , @byuntrash101 and especially @desirehorizon for being amazing!) everyone’s sweet comments have been greatly appreciated, and I just hope this silly little fic brings a smile to your everyday lives.

ty for making writing worth it as a writer. now cue the opening credits!

“ABSOLUTELY NOT” Hongjoong says.

“But dadd,” she whines, clutching the wrinkled pamphlet closer to her chest. Eunseo’s small hands are covered in purple doodles her sister drew using a glitter pen. 

“Why not?” the girl complains, shrugging her shoulders. 

He sighs, pushing his glasses up with one hand as he continues typing away at the important document the producing company sent him on his laptop. He tries his best to reason with the child.

“Because, baby…” pausing to think for a moment before responding. “It would be hard for your mom and I to find a time that fits into our schedules. I’ve got work, and she must be busy as well.” 

Eunseo glares at her father’s excuse. 

Okay, yeah, the man knows it’s somewhat of a lie, himself. 

She continues to protest by shoving the advertising pamphlet in her dads face and blocking his view of the screen. Thankfully, Hongjoong is used to these sort of work distractions, expertly avoiding her by craning his neck sideways and continuing to type away.

“But dad, it’s an amazing cottage resort! They’ve got a lake where you can go swimming in, a forest hiking trail, a bonfire to roast marshmallows and even a diner less than fifteen minutes away! So if you end up burning the camp food like last time, we can just order and eat in! Isn’t that great?” She beams. 

He stops typing for a second, fingers hovering over the keyboard as he gives his first born a look that makes her immediately break into a sweet smile, batting her lashes and flashing him a look of innocence. 

“Please?” She begs, standing on the edge of her feet as she gazes up at him. “The last time we went was when Eunbyul and me were toddlers.” 

And how on earth could any dad’s heart not melt at the sight of his daughter trying to convince him about one harmless vacation? 

Hongjoong wheels his office chair back, turning so he could look her in the eyes properly and tuck a stray hair behind her ear. 

“Listen honey, I’m sorry, I really wish I could, but…” he trails off, looking back at the open tabs and file documents displayed on his computer.

Turning his head around and upon seeing a frown form on his daughter's face, he quickly reassures her. 

“Once you finish your final piano recital tomorrow and your mom picks your sister up to take her to her hockey game, how about we go fishing the weekend afterwards?” he suggests, brows raising. “That’ll mean I have just the two of you all to myself.”

Eunseo mumbles under her breath, quiet but insistent enough that he catches it. 

“But we’re supposed to be a family of four.” 

She sulks, thinking of how that would leave you, her mother, left out of their plans. The arms holding the pamphlet up, ultimately fall down in defeat. 

He places a peck on her forehead, patting her on the back. “You know, if you can get your mom to say yes, then I’ll think about it” he chuckles, knowing the highly unlikely probability of the event.

Adjusting his glasses, the producer goes back to his work, peeking his daughter slugging away from the corner of his eye. 

Eunseo slumps her shoulders in defeat as she walks out of her dads office, turning the corner to see her twin sister, Eunbyeol, pressing her ears near the door with her neck outstretched. Clearly she’s been caught in the middle of trying to overhear their conversation. 

The twin younger by fifteen seconds quickly rushes over, waiting expectantly.

“So? What did dad say?”

Eunseo exhales, throwing the information pamphlet away on the wooden floors and slumping against the living room couch. 

“He’s totally not buggin. Said he wants to take us fishing next weekend instead. Just us three.” she grumbles. 

Eunbyeol scrunches her nose at the idea. 

“But dad sucks at fishing.”

Her sister groans, kicking her small feet against the couch in frustration. “I know!” Eunbyeol starts to worry, coming to sit beside her.

“Then how on earth are we going to get mom and dad to get back with each other again? They haven’t been in the same room since we were like, five!”

Her twin sister scoffs, “First, we gotta get them to have a proper conversation with each other. They barely even talk when they drop us off at each other's houses.”

Nobody truly knows why you and Hongjoong had divorced so suddenly when the girls were young. Not even themselves.

All they were used to were cold stares and one word replies shared amongst their parents, refusing to find harmony in their co-parenting.

Frankly, your girls have had enough of the performance you were both trying to maintain, looking past your expressions to realize you and your husband still held feelings for the other. It was only a matter of time and place in order to set you two up together, thus, the idea of an intimate, family getaway came into their minds. 

After a few moments of letting her words hang in the air, Eunbyeol’s eyes widened to the size of saucers. 

“That’s it!”

The older twin looks up quizzically, watching her sister jump off the couch and gaze at her excitedly. 

“We’ll just have to force them to meet each other! We can always guilt trip them for dropping us off at their houses and making us play alone!”

Eunseo rolls her eyes at the idea. “Right, and how are we going to do that dummy? The only reason they’d do that, was if it was an emergency.”

Whoever said twin telepathy wasn’t a thing was a liar, because the second Eunseo catches onto what her sister is saying, the twins share a look of pure mischievousness, the gears in their brains working together as one. 

With hushed whispers and quiet giggles, the twins immediately begin conducting their plan in secrecy near the corner of the living room, backs turned and in the middle of discussion when Hongjoong walks out of his office with an empty coffee mug. 

“What are you guys doing over there?”

“Leave us alone! Family man traitor!” Eunbyeol shouts, holding a slightly hostile grudge to her father before turning back to whisper to her twin. 

Hongjoong shakes his head, sighing as he heads into the kitchen. 

“Then it’s perfect! I’ll stay here with dad once my piano recital is over, and then when Mom picks you up for your hockey game tomorrow, we’ll try convincing them together!”

Eunbyeol nods her head in agreement, eyes lighting up with excitement as she whispers in a hushed tone. 

“And once both events end, we’ll pretend to be so sick that they have to take us to the nearby hospital.”

The other twin smirks. ”Where we’ll end up guilt tripping them into taking us to the cottage.”

They double high five in victory at their flawless plan, already waiting for tomorrow to come as soon as possible.

“A summer cottage?” you repeated, brows raising at the idea as you made a left turn onto your street. 

Eunbyeol nods eagerly from the back seat after getting picked up, having ranted on and on about the ad in the pamphlet since the moment you saw her.

“It's an amazing establishment mom,” She boasts, making you laugh at her words while parking the car and unbuckling your seatbelt.

“They have everything you could possibly think of!”

“Oh, really?” You say skeptically, opening the door for her. 

Eunbyeol is lost in the middle of passionately describing all the relaxing activities you could do by yourself, or rather per se, with a special partner together. 

“There’s couples hiking retreats, couples canoeing, couples yoga… did I mention couples hiking retreats?” She confuses, retracing her words. 

You roll your eyes and smile, keys jangling as you walk through the entrance of your apartment flat while balancing the bags and items in your hands.

Being a wedding dress designer and yet picking up your daughter from your ex-husband's house could’ve been ironic to some people. But after having split with Hongjoong since the girls were so young, you came to grow fond of having some independence as a divorcee, channeling your main focus into setting up your own bridal shop downtown.

It was through that hard work and focus that you did it all by yourself with no additional help.

You’d be lying if you said you haven't opened a bottle of red wine some nights due to loneliness as a divorced single mother, but at least that was what you had your daughters for.

You made sure to work just as hard as you did enjoy playing and spending time with them. After all, they were the light of your life and purpose for living.

Balancing the pizza you picked up on the way home, you set it down on the kitchen island, telling Eunbyeol to go wash her hands in the sink. The girl doesn’t stop ranting.

“There’s usually only two rooms in the cottage, so you’ll have to sleep together with dad, but I guess you won't mind, would you? After all, you were once married” She rolls her eyes, reaching for the soap.

You shake your head with a sigh. ”What is up with you and getting me and your father together in the same room?” you muttered as you took out the plates and utensils. 

Eunbyeol eventually walks back to you, wiping her hands on her baggy jeans before sitting on the kitchen stool. 

“It’s not that I’m obsessed, Mom. Actually, Eunseo and I are just dying to get away this summer now that school is over.”

Turning around from plating the pizza and salad, you chastise your daughter, telling her to sit with her bum flat on the stool so she doesn’t fall. She immediately listens, carrying on with her persuasion. 

“We just want you and dad to get the chance to relax as well, that’s all!” her mouth full from a bite of hot, greasy pizza. 

You smile, wiping your washed hands on the kitchen towel and coming over to wrap your arms around her affectionately. 

“Spending time with you and Eunseo every week is how I relax,” you assured her, smothering your baby with kisses on her cheek.

Byeol lets out a squeal of annoyance, taking another bite of her pizza. “You’re squishing me!” She tries hiding her smile, failing when you lean in closer. 

You pull back in laughter, ruffling her hair as you walk away while reminding her.

“Oh! Don’t forget you’ve got your hockey game tonight!”

Byeol chews faster, munching on the soft crust and counting down the hours on the kitchen clock. 

She smiles to herself. 

“Don’t worry, I know!”

“What do you mean you need to go to the hospital?” Hongjoong asks in a worried voice, standing against the women’s washroom stall. He holds Eunseo’s congratulatory flower bouquet for first place in hand, feeling the stares of multiple women passing by, clearly judging him for being in the ladies room with them. 

“Honey, is everything all right?” He asks worriedly. A string of groans come from behind the door.

“You need to leave!” one old lady thrusts her walking cane at the father, lips pursed in dissatisfaction. 

Eunseo did such a phenomenal job tonight for her piano recital, that Hongjoong was shocked to see his daughter clutch her stomach first thing after running down the steps of the stage, dashing to the washrooms.

He whips his head back. “My daughter’s having a bit of a situation in here, okay miss? Have a bit of understanding!” He barks frustratedly out loud to the onlookers before speaking softly back to the stall door. 

“Eunseo, baby, talk to me, is everything alright in there? Are you sure you need to go to the hospital? Is it that bad?” 

The girl continues her acting performance, letting out fake groans while typing furiously on her cellphone. 

“Oh the pain! I think I might have food poisoning, dad!”

Seolie: How far along are u

Byeolie: Mom’s outside, banging to come in. 

Seolie: same, I told dad I needed to go to the hospital.

Eunseo lets out another groan of pain, causing Hongjoong to worry even more. 

“That’s it, Eunseo. Let me in and help you” he decides, searching his bag for a painkiller or at least some sort of medication for relief. 

The girl frantically checks her phone, eyes lighting up at the new message. 

Byeolie: Mom’s getting the car to take me to the hospital. I’ve got her convinced to call dad soon.

Eunseo types as fast as her small fingers can move, even faster than when she performed her piano solo from before. 

Seolie: Then what do I do????

Hongjoong gets slightly suspicious at the lack of sound coming from the stall, calling to his daughter again.

“Eunseo? Everything alright?”

At the next notification, the girl makes up her mind, getting the signal from her sister. 

Byeolie: play dead. Mom calling soon. See ya there.

The actress gets into character, gaining her composure before unlocking the washroom stall and holding her stomach as she stumbles into her dad’s surprised arms. 

“Eunseo!”

She wails, falling limp. “Oh, dad! Please! Take me to the hospital, it hurts too much!”

It’s truly a mystery which parent she got her acting skills from.

But she doesn’t have to tell him twice at that point. The man is already piggy backing his fainted daughter and sprinting out of the ladies washroom, reassuring her with soothing comments as he makes a beeline for the parking lot.

“Stay with me baby!” He huffs, unbeknownst to Eunseo who peeks one eye open. 

Only after he straps his daughter in the backseat and is turning on the engine does he receive a sudden phone call from you, pressing the speaker for the whole car to hear your panicked voice. You break the news to him first. 

“Eunbyeol’s severely sick. She fainted right after her hockey game.”

Hongjoong’s eyes widened. “What?”

You sighed, running a hand through your hair. “She was holding her stomach saying she ate something wrong. Is Eunseo okay?” 

Hongjoong puts the stick into drive, backing out of the parking lot and replying in a hurry.

“She’s hit with the same thing right now. I’ll meet you at the Hospital in ten” he grunts, sweat forming on his brow as he speeds through traffic, not caring if he gets a ticket. 

Had he looked in his rear view mirror, he would have seen Eunseo sagging near the car door, clutching her stomach with a small grin on her face.

You never liked the hospital. 

The sounds of babies crying and hospital beds wheeling become the background noise, shifting nervously in your seat that was in the emergency pediatrics unit waiting area. 

Hongjoong has his eyebrows furrowed, hunched over one seat beside you as he hangs his head in his hands, knees bouncing up and down. A middle aged nurse nasally calls on the next family waiting from the front desk, boredom laced in her voice. 

You sigh, uncrossing your legs and choosing to bite at the fingernail on your right hand once realizing you’ve already done the same to all the ones on your left. 

“It’s all my fault.” Hongjoong confesses, suddenly sitting still. 

You glance to your left, watching as he sits up slowly. 

“Last thing they ate together would’ve been at my house. I probably made them sick with something I fed them,” he dejects, hanging his head down in shame. 

“It’s all my fault, god I’m so stupid!” He beats himself up. 

You have half the mind to snap at your ex-husband, anger already filling up inside you earlier when you heard Eunbyeol suggest it was something she ate at her dad’s house. You really did want to yell at him for being so bad of a chef that he sent his own daughters to the emergency pediatrics unit, undeniably relieved that Seonghwa was working tonight’s shift. 

But those cruel words sitting on the tip of your tongue are thrown away when you glance down to see your ex-husband missing a shoe on one of his feet. 

Hongjoong rushed over here so fast with Eunseo that he left his shoe behind like some sort of fairytale, Cinderella. He hasn’t even realized he wasn’t wearing one right now.

You exhaled, knowing that if there's one thing you’ve learned while parenting, it was that to have patience and understanding was a virtue. Even for your ex-husband.

“It’s not your fault,” you sighed, staring at your hands folded in your lap. 

It feels awkward when Hongjoong stops tugging at his blond locks to look at you in surprise, continuing to speak as you place a gentle hand on his thigh. 

“That could’ve happened to anyone. We don’t know yet if it was because of the food. Let’s just pray and wait and see” your voice being a sign of reliability to him. 

The man is a little shocked at your supportive nature to tell you truthfully. He delivers all the things he needs to say through his grateful gaze alone, reciprocating a small smile. 

“Didn’t think I’d see you guys tonight.” Seonghwa chuckles, walking in before Hongjoong has the chance to reply. He comes from the patient's room wearing his dashing, white doctor's coat. “Together, at that” he mumbles under his breath before looking up and flashing you a polite smile while giving his worried friend a soft pat on the back.

Hongjoong holds his breath when he asks: “How are they?”

“Better,” he tells him, flipping through some papers on his clipboard. “But it was a big shock to their bodies. They need some rest at the moment.” 

The pediatrician tries not to show his smile, standing in front of you and Hongjoong while hiding his expression behind his clipboard as per his niece’s request.

To be fair, if someone had told Seonghwa earlier that evening that he would receive a fifteen minute pep talk from his best friend's twin daughters that day in the emergency unit, he would’ve laughed in their faces. 

Alas, life was always filled with surprises. Here’s what went down thirty minutes earlier in the hospital room:

“We’re trying to get them back together,” Eunseo announced confidently, sitting next to her sister on the hospital bed. 

Eunbyeol nodded, eyeing the dumbfounded medical professional standing in front of them with his clipboard tucked under his arm, hands in his pockets. 

“So.. you guys don’t need an IV drip?”

“It’s this whole entire thing, Uncle Hwa, we’ll explain to you later.”

It took a minute before Seonghwa reclaimed his composure as an adult, chastising the twins for pulling a false alarm over something like this. He made sure to make them promise him they wouldn’t do something stupid like this again. But after that, of course Seonghwa is immediately pairing to help them with their plan on getting his best friend back together with his ex-wife. The man is just tired of watching Hongjoong beat himself up half the time about missing you. 

“So you essentially want me to lie about the fact that you guys don’t have food poisoning, and were just faking this whole thing so your mom and dad would have a reason to see each other.” 

The twins nod, one of them pointing out. “And make sure to tell them we’re fine of course. Maybe throw in we’re like, really sick, but that we’ll live so it’s best if we get rest.”

“At like a cottage or something” the other chimes in, wiggling her eyebrows at the hint. 

The doctor sighs, scratching his neck sheepishly. 

When Seonghwa leads you and Hongjoong into the hospital room, both of you feel awful seeing your babies laying in their beds, dressed in the children’s gowns. 

Eunbyeol peeks open her eyes first, voice hoarse (she practiced). 

“Mom? Dad? Is that you?” she groans, pretending to clutch her stomach in pain. 

Both you and Hongjoong rush to each child, grasping their hands and stroking their heads softly with sympathy. 

“Hey baby, I’m here” you coo.

“I’m so, so sorry girls, it was probably all my fault. I should’ve never cooked for you guys earlier today.” their dad cries out painfully, looking down in shame.

You come to stand beside him, reassuring them both. “But what’s important is that you guys get better now. We want to make sure you get the rest you need” you say, making eye contact with your ex-husband. 

Seonghwa clears his throat, crossing his arms as he flashes a wink to the girls behind your backs. 

“They seemed to have been mentally exhausted as well,” He asks on purpose, watching as you and Hongjoong share a look with each other. “Have they been receiving proper familial support at home?” 

“I can’t even remember the last time I saw my parents in the same room together.” Eunseo weakly admits, showing a faint smile. 

As parents, you and Joong feel the most amount of guilt anyone could ever feel. You realize how exhausting and stressful the pickups and drop offs to each other's houses could’ve been, especially when you two were so busy with your respective jobs to spend time with your daughters now that it was summer break for them. 

Hongjoong smiles, holding both their hands and making a promise to them. 

“Make sure to rest you two. Tell me, is there anything you guys need right now? Anything you guys want I'll make sure to get it for you.”

”Do you guys have crunchy ice?” Eunbyeol blurts out loud, breaking her weak facade. 

Eunseo almost wants to shoot a glare at her sister but she realizes both of you are still looking at them. 

“I can get you some ice!” Seonghwa quickly assures you and his nieces, mouthing to them good luck for support as he shuts the door behind him. 

You sigh, coming over to stroke Eunseo’s hair and caress Eunbyeol’s hand. 

“Well? Is there anything else you guys need from us?” Hongjoong states, eyes soft in sympathy. You nod, waiting to hear their response.

“Let us know girls, anything at all.”

Eunbyeol and Eunseo finally take their chance, sharing a hesitant look before speaking at the same time. 

“We want to go to the cottage”

“Together,” Eunseo says.

“As a family.” Eunbyeol adds in.

You and Hongjoong share a silent look. 

Later into the night, the twins are finally discharged from the hospital, deciding that they would stay at Hongjoong’s mothers apartment which was closest nearby, considering they were both tired and immediately needed a place to rest. 

The car ride home is awkwardly silent, even as the kids are (what you think) to be fast asleep, hockey gear and a bouquet of flowers riding with them in the backseat.

It was at their request for you to drive them to their grandmother's house, wanting both their parents with them till the ride home. Hongjoong settled on driving your car and dropping all of you off, planning to take a taxi back home and pick up his own car in the morning. Despite your protest on how inconvenient that was, he insisted as he didn’t want to disappoint the twins.

But suddenly the man begins to regret his offer, currently driving in complete silence on the highway, eyes facing forward and shoulders tense. Quiet FM nightly jazz plays from the radio. 

You’re sitting passenger seat up front with him in what feels like forever, looking solely at the reflections in the window, the street lamp lights scattering across your face as you travel through the nighttime traffic. It’s awkward being together like this.

You hear him clear his voice, speaking softly so he doesn’t wake up the girls.

“So, are we really considering that cottage retreat?” he glances back at you. 

You sit up, straightening your back and exhaling as you secretly wanted to have avoided that topic of discussion.

“We can’t Hongjoong,” you reasoned, shaking your head. “I couldn’t possibly take a whole vacation from the dress shop. Not unless I had someone take care of it for me, which my staff probably aren’t ready to do.” you explained, voice tense.

Hongjoong nodded, understanding your point of view. “I realize that. I’ve got a few projects I have to record and demo with Eden.” he tells you, an arm placed on the wheel with his sleeve rolled up. His veins become perfectly outlined as he passionately tells you about his producing job.

He’s so hot like that.

Jesus what were you thinking? Cursing your mind as you clear your voice and try to change the topic.

“How’s everything been going then?” you say stiffly. He nods, still awkward with sharing conversation with you. 

“Um, it's going good. You?” he asks.  

“Fine.” you swallow. 

Silence prevails. He’s first to speak again, building the courage to say the next thing in his mind. 

“I’m willing to put things on hold if I need to.” He confesses. 

Hongjoong continues to drive normally after having said that. Now it becomes your turn to stare at him now, watching how he glances at the side mirror, switching lanes swiftly like the pro-driver he was. 

“What do you mean?”

“Honestly, I think it would be good for the girls,” he admits, calling you by your name. Even hearing him call you your name feels weird. It feels foreign, like it almost wasn’t yours. 

“Hongjoong-” you warn, shaking your head at the warry possibility. 

“Just hear me out, alright?” He states firmly, making you quiet. 

He glances back into the rear view mirror, watching your girls peacefully asleep with their heads leaning against each other. 

“It’s been almost seven years. Seven years since they’ve last seen their parents speak to each other without breaking into a fight. Tonight was the first time they saw us together without having to plan a drop off and pick up in god knows how long.”

Hongjoong licks his lips, gripping the wheel as he emphasizes. “Seven years since they’ve gotten a goodnight hug and kiss from us at the same time in one place.”

You scoff, turning to face him properly this time. “I don’t know why you’re acting as though we can make this request of theirs come true Hongjoong. This is a big deal-”

“It is a big deal!” he exclaims, trying to get his point across. “I can see how badly our daughters want us to both be in their lives more, to acknowledge the fact that the other still exists after splitting apart.”

He sighs. “Us, not acknowledging each other’s existence at all is worse than if we had to see each other regularly.”

You bite your lip, getting angry. “So what Hongjoong? You’re saying you want to suddenly play family with them at the cottage?”

You shrug your shoulders. “Do you really think we can pretend to be normal parents to them without fighting like we are now? There’s a reason why our current schedules work. Don’t make me seem like the bad guy for not wanting to take them.” You glared, pointing a finger at him. His jaw locks. 

“You fully knew the lifestyle changes we would need to make as a couple when you signed those legal papers—”

“Well then did you also predict everything that happened after you brought me those papers?” He spits like venom, gaze hard as he clenches the wheel.

You blink your eyes at his words, pressing your knees together at his sudden attack. 

You don’t remember clearly if you even meant what you said at the time when you threw those papers at him seven years ago. But all you still know is that Hongjoong was just as stubborn as you were, making up his mind to sign them in the end regardless.

Looking in the rear view mirror, you muttered to him quietly. 

“Don’t raise your voice. The kids are sleeping.”

Their dad scoffs, muttering a sure, under his breath as he switches lanes. 

The kids were in fact, not sleeping, and very much awake. Eyes closed but ears wide, as they were listening in to the first real discussion their parents were having in so long. Or perhaps it was an argument?

At the right turn into his mother’s apartment’s underground parking lot, Hongjoong shuts off the engine, getting out of the car without another word and shutting the door in your face. 

You pinched the bridge of your nose, hear the back door open. 

You watch in the corner of your vision as his demeanor immediately changes, softly caressing Eunseo and Eunbyeol’s hair. 

“Hey girls, we’re here now. You gotta wake up.” He coos.

They yawn theatrically, pretending to stretch their arms. 

“So soon?” Eunbyeol mumbles.

A few feet ahead, you see your mother in law walking out from the elevators, a knit cardigan wrapped around her small frame. You smiled, getting out of the car and greeting her first. 

“We’ll leave Eunbyeol’s hockey gear with you for the night if that’s alright Mom-” 

Hongjoong’s words are cut off as the woman who birthed him walks straight past him, ignoring him and immediately taking you in her warm embrace, eyes forming crescent moons. 

“How are you my dear?” she asks, causing you to smile and hug your mother in law affectionately. “It’s been so long, I’ve missed you so much!”

Despite the break up between you and Hongjoong, you were thankful for one thing, and that was the fact that your relationship with Hongjoong’s family stayed strong, especially with Mrs. Kim.

“I’ve missed you too” you tell her genuinely. “I’ve been good, I’m just sorry for dropping them off so suddenly at your place,” You say, feeling apologetic for waking her up late into the night. 

“We had a bit of a situation,” you explain, watching as Hongjoong collects their things. 

She shakes her head, reassuring you. “Nonsense! Why would you be sorry for that.” she grins, turning her head at the car. “And where are my girls, may I ask?”

At the sound of her voice, Eunbyeol and Eunseo dash out from the back seat and into their grandmother's welcoming arms, pressing soft kisses to her cheeks.

Hongjoong is the only person that stands all alone, awkwardly holding the bouquet of flowers with heavy hockey gear and a duffle bag perched on his shoulder. 

“Oh, how I’ve missed my little squirrels!” she exclaims using their signature pet name and happily reuniting with her grandchildren. 

She turns her head, face falling at the sight of her son and lips pursing into a frown. 

“And where on earth have you been? Not giving me a call!” she snaps, slapping her son on his back. Eunbyeol laughs out loud while Eunseo tries to keep her giggles in. 

You hear your ex husband protest to her while you close the back seat door. 

“OW! I’ve been busy alright?” he mumbles, massaging his sore arm. 

Your mother in law takes both the twins hand’s on each side, nodding her head to you. 

“Leave all the kid’s stuff to Hongjoong, he’ll take care of it darling” she smiles sweetly, sending a glare to her son to take a hint and be more of a gentleman to you. She walks away with her smiling granddaughters, exchanging light-hearted giggles and excitement. “Bye, mom!” The twins wave back. 

Hongjoong cranes his head up, sighing at the ceiling before taking Eunseo’s piano bag that you were holding in your hand in one swift motion, walking reluctantly behind the three. 

“Stay here. I’ll drop them off.” he briskly walks away, leaving you stunned. 

Hongjoongs words from before can’t help but replay inside your head as you wait for him to come back down. 

Before you guessed it, it was already the ride back home, and the car was painfully silent once again. In reality, you were each thinking deeply to yourselves about the possibility of the cottage retreat. Could you really be a mom and dad together as a couple to your kids?

“Are you giving your plants enough water?” He brings you out of thought, the car slowing down as he turns onto your street. 

You look up, giving him a confused look. 

Hongjoong nods in direction, following his eyes to look at the measly, dying flower pot perched on the steps of your flat’s entrance as the car stopped to a halt. “You know, it’s really hard for plants to die when they’re outside.” He says in amazement at your shit gardening. 

You scowl at him, asking him when he became such a plant expert all of a sudden. 

He continues to poke fun at you, smirking when he undoes his seat belt. Hongjoong suddenly leans over to help you unbuckle your own, face dangerously close to yours as he lowers his voice. 

“Unless their owner just really sucks at taking care of them.” 

His eyes gaze into yours for a split second, feeling your face heat up from the proximity. You let out a tiny gasp for air when he leans back in his own seat. 

“Fuck off” you replied harshly. 

“You should give them some more care,” he suggests, ignoring your swearing. 

You don’t reply to his stupid comment, refusing to look at him as you get out of the car. 

“I can go in by myself” you press, adjusting the strap of your purse on your shoulder. You didn’t think it was necessary to draw out your time with this man any further.

Hongjoong straightens his dress shirt as he moves to your side of the car, shoving his own car keys in his trousers as he locks your doors and hands over the keys. You take them hesitantly, watching as he rests against the car door, strong arms crossing against his chest. 

“Think about it at least.” he mutters to you. 

You look at him, eyes shutting softly when you realize he was still talking about the cottage getaway. Sighing his name is exasperation, you run a hand through your hair. 

“Hongjoong-”

“Would it kill you to spend a week with me and our daughters?” He scoffs as he asks you straight up, looking at you in a way that makes you hesitate to say your next words. You observed one hand come to shuffle with the silver lighter in his trouser pockets. 

You stayed silent for a moment, genuinely thinking back to your daughters and what this meant to them if you went. What this would mean for you two as well. 

Finally, you look up to him, returning his gaze.

“I need time.” 

He nods, face serious. “I understand.”

“Let me think about it.” You mumbled. 

And with that you turn around, walking up the steps to your front door. At the sight of your flowerpot, you quickly remember his comment and snatch it in your hands, slamming the door shut to Hongjoong as he finally lets a soft grin break out on his face. Letting his back come up from leaning against the door, Hongjoong nods his head, satisfied enough at that answer, as he walks silently down the road while opening his Uber app. 

At least you’d give it some thought. 

Okay, maybe now you’ve given it too much thought. 

Sipping your fifth glass of wine of the night, you’re sitting, back hunched over with your knees tucked into your chest on the breakfast table chair, zoning out as your best friend Sophie continues barking at you and your inconsistent commitment. 

“I don’t even understand why you’re considering going! Does the man realize what it takes to leave your own shop for a full week?” she fumes, adjusting her royal jelly sheet mask while cursing at your ex-husband for pressuring you into going to the family retreat. 

“Not everyone can just pack their bags and go swimming at the cottage, Jesus Christ” she rolls her eyes. 

“He didn’t pressure me,” you told her pouting. “He wants to do it for the kids” you mumbled looking down as you defended him. 

You invited your best friend Sophie over to your apartment that evening for your weekly slumber party, a time you each looked forward to dedicating a bottle of wine and chardonnay over some gossip, spilling all the uneventful drama in your lives. 

Perhaps you revealed too much drama to your best friend tonight. 

“I don’t think I would mind going, to be honest” you hiccup, words slurring. “I haven’t had a vacation in so long, Sophie, and the girls really want to go! I would feel bad for leaving them with nothing to do this summer.” confessing through the alcohol. 

Cheeks flushed, you sigh as you play with your silk robe mindlessly while Sophie shakes her head at you, one hand coming up to snap at you and bring you back to reality. 

“Hello? Earth to Ms. Divorcee?” She sighs, rolling her eyes in frustration. “You said you wanted to set boundaries with him! To cut the line straight and keep your distance so you could get over your feelings for him! Show him who’s boss!” 

“He said he’s willing to put his music projects on hold for us,” you muttered quietly, the thought making your heart weak as you smiled at the memory of Hongjoong teasing you about your flower pot. Your chest blossomed with warmth now. 

Sophie sighs, shaking her head as she thinks just how differently you were feeling four wine glasses ago.

“Listen, honey, I’m just warning you in advance” she sips the golden liquid in her glass before placing it on the table. 

“Take it from a girl who’s had three divorces. I mean look at me! I’m still somewhat young, I’ve got no kids, no responsibilities, filthily rich, and not once have I had to pay for my own divorce settlement fees!” 

You nod mindlessly, eyes blinking softly under the bright kitchen lights. 

“What you need is a provider, sweetheart,” she crooned, caressing your head. 

“A guy who won’t leave you stressed and unimpressed like Hongjoong does.”

You continue mindlessly nodding your head at her words, ears perking up when you hear small footsteps come down the stairs. 

“Hi mom, Hi aunt Sophie.” Eunbyeol greets, eyes glued to her iPad that Eunseo trails after from behind, whining how it was now her turn to play Super Mario.  

“Hi girls,” Sophie replies like the cool, hot aunt she is, eyes shut as she’s concentrating on giving herself a collarbone massage right now. 

“Hey sweetheart,” you mumbled, smiling at your daughters standing near the fridge getting a glass of water. 

“Say, did your dad tell you guys anything about the cottage?” You blurt out loud, avoiding the look that Sophie gives you. Eunbyeol looks up from the glowing screen, ears perking in interest. “No, not much, why?” 

Eunseo snatches the iPad from her twin, coming over to you. “Did Dad say we’re going?” She asks enthusiastically, eyes widening. Sophie is quick to assure them. 

“Now of course not girls, your mother here was just-”

“Oh fuck it, why not?” you say confidentially, shining a bright smile. “Let’s go to the cottage!” You exclaimed in drunk excitement, all three girls staring at you with their jaws hanging at your sudden profanity as well as your final decision. 

Oh, how dangerous the effects of a bottle of wine were. 

Eunseo and Eunbyeol immediately embrace each other in a passionate hug, squealing in excitement that their plan actually worked. You and Hongjoong were now both convinced. “Oh my gosh, we’re going to go as a family!” They cried in happiness. You giggled at their joy, reciprocating their enthusiasm.  

Sophie leans back in her seat defeated, shaking her head with pursed lips as she picks up the whole Chardonnay bottle and sips it. 

“Oh whatever. . . This isn’t my problem anyways.” 

When Hongjoong drops by the next morning to pick up Eunbyeol and Eunseo from your house for the weekend, he can’t lie but be a little heartbroken at the way his daughters ignore his kiss to them first thing. They instead, immediately shove the cottage advertising pamphlet in his face with victorious grins. 

“See! We told you mom would say yes!” 

“Say yes to what?” He pouts, avoiding the paper and obsessively trying to peck a kiss to each of his daughter's cheeks. The idea of going to the cottage almost slipped the busy man’s mind after almost a week of no news from you. 

“What’s so important that you guys don’t even say hi to me anymore?” he sulks.

Eunseo giggles, fighting back her laughter when her dad tries to tickle her with his kisses. 

“We’re going to the cottage!”

Hongjoong stills himself, leaning back to make sure he heard her correctly. 

“We’re what?”

Eunbyeol, taking after her mother, has a cheeky expression on her face as she places her hands on her hips and sasses her father. 

“Pack your bags and swimming shorts, daddy, we’re going on a family vacation!” 

In perfect timing, you manage to stumble out your front door, coffee mug in hand and mid-yawn when you realize Hongjoong is already staring at you in shock. 

“What?” you snap, still grumpy from your slight hangover. “You’ve never seen a woman wake up before?” You replied, asking your kids if they packed all their stuff. 

The twins watch as their dad stands up from his crouched position. 

“You’re going to go to the cottage?”

At Hongjoongs words you freeze, everything coming back to you all at once. The wine, the twins, the promises, it hits you like a moving truck. 

“Well…”

“No take backs mom! You said it yourself last night that you were excited to go to the cottage!” One of the twins pointed out. 

Hongjoong doesn’t take his eyes off of you. 

“I-I did say that, didn’t I?” You chuckled sheepishly, toes curling at the rookie mistake you made in parenting 101: saying yes when you should’ve said no. 

Your ex-husband quickly tells the kids to put their things in the trunk, promising he’ll be right with them after talking to you. As Hongjoong dashes up the stairs in his white polo golf shirt, you feel slightly exposed being in only your silk slip dress and robe. 

“I didn’t realize you’d be here so early” you mumbled, looking down at your toes. 

He ignores you. “So I’m guessing we’re going then?” He smirks, looking at you with an expression of undeniable cockiness and peaked interest. 

You shrug nonchalantly. “Let’s surround the focus of this trip towards the kids” you remind him, straightening your back.

Hongjoong nods, agreeing with you wholeheartedly. “Of course, that was my intention from the beginning,” he smiles. 

You swallow the lump in your throat, unnoticing his stare drop at your breasts perking up from the cool morning air. You jump in surprise as you hear the honking of the car. 

“Come on, love birds! We gotta go back to dad’s to get our swimming stuff!” Eunbyeol cackles, leaning from the backseat into the driver's seat window. Eunseo already begins journaling in her hello kitty note book, an organized list of what she’ll need to bring to the cottage.

Hongjoong looks back at his daughters, before looking back at you with a smile. 

“Let’s keep in touch about details, alright?”

You nod silently, gripping your mug. At the sound of your nextdoor neighbor coming out, Hongjoong contemplates for a moment before quickly leaning forward, shielding you from their view with his backside. Clearing his throat, Hongjoong nods his head to the inside of your house, leaning forward to whisper to you. 

“Think, um, you should get inside, it’s getting cold,” he mutters, his dimples faintly showing. You glare up at him, “I’m going to say goodbye to my own daughters”. Still clueless to what he was referring to. He grins, shrugging his shoulders before looking at you. 

“If you insist. Just thought you wouldn’t want your neighbor to see what I can see, would you?”

You gasp at his words, looking down at your chest to see what he means before wrapping your robe around you. You quickly waved goodbye to your girls before you shut the door in Hongjoong’s smug face. 

It’s now become the second time you’ve done that.

Thankfully, the next time you see Hongjoong you’re wearing a much more appropriate outfit. In a white cotton blouse and casual jean shorts, your effortlessly chic vacation outfit was the only highlight today, considering the day you had been internally dreading for so long was finally here. 

You tried to take deep breaths while scurrying all over your house and finishing some last minute packing. Reassuring yourself that a family getaway couldn’t kill you. 

Right?

Reservations at the cottage were made over the phone last week, booking a house with the perfect lake side view, access to the forest trail and close proximity to the offered activities. It would only be a seven day stay, both in your respective rooms, (you clearly emphasized you and Hongjoong had to have separate ones) while the twins would lodge together. You had no intention of interacting with your husband alone together on this trip, apart from the quote on quote, ‘family bonding times’ you promised your daughters. And yet why were you here sweating nervously like a sinner in church?

“What a hot lady!” Eunbyeol wolf-whistles at your outfit when she walks through your bedroom doors. You jump at the sudden entrance, realizing Hongjoong was already here to pick you up with the girls.

A pair of black designer sunglasses slightly too big for her sat perched on her nose. Eunbyeol smiles before jumping onto your bed of clothes. You already know Hongjoong must’ve spoiled her and her sister with those, buying them a pair each.

“C’mon Byeol, off the bed” you quipped, packing your toothbrush as she reluctantly slugged off the covers. 

Your suspicions of Hongjoong buying them designer items are correct when Eunseo walks in, classily perching her matching white ones on her head before chastising her sister's tasteless compliment. 

“Elegant. She’s Elegant, Byeol. You don’t just go around wolf-whistling at people.” she rolls her eyes. 

“You look very pretty by the way, mom”

You smiled, nevertheless pleased at both their compliments and thanking them before going back to doing a last minute check of your things. 

Sun cream, clothes, makeup bag, swimsuit…

At the thought of your swimsuit you immediately blush, thinking back to how Sophie forced you to borrow her yellow bikini that left very little to the imagination. Despite your protests that you wouldn’t be needing it, she insisted. 

Hongjoong is last to walk through your front doors, swinging his car keys around his index finger and calling to his three girls from the downstairs foyer of your apartment. The man is clearly excited for the trip, he can’t lie. 

“Come on ladies, we’re gonna miss the chance to swim in that lake if we don't leave soon!” 

Hongjoong is your typical dad, except for the fact that he does not mess with dad!fashion. The producer is dressed classily from top to bottom in a loose-fitting designer button up with a pair of reformed denim pants, his pearl earrings and gold piercings complementing his outfit perfectly. 

Kim Hongjoong didn't play when it came to fashion. Even as a father. 

“Coming!” You exclaimed, ushering your kids out of your bedroom and making your way down the stairs with your suitcase. Seeing that it would only be a week at the cottage, you tried to pack light, though you may have to reconsider that thought with the way you struggled to lift the case properly. 

“Need some help?”

A strong hand comes to help you, immediately inhaling the scent of Hongjoong’s cologne as he brushes his knuckles near yours. “Here, I’ve got it” he assures, making you step back and admire your undeniably fine husband. 

Ex-husband. You meant Ex-husband. Scratch out the fine as well. 

You watch from behind as he struts out the foyer, smiling and joking playfully with his twin daughters, carrying your luggage out the door with them. 

What was this trip doing to you?

Once you’re on route to the cottage resort and the GPS is set, the car is blissfully quiet, each and every one of you surprisingly at peace. Jittery excitement still lays deep in your daughters' minds as you overhear them talk about what they want to do first once they arrive. 

Hongjoong’s 2000s soft rock and ballad playlist is playing quietly throughout the speakers right now, relishing in the music as luscious, green trees flash by you from the passenger window. 

While Byeol and Eunseo distract each other on their own, Hongjoong turns to talk to you. 

“I’m not going to lie, it’s been forever since I’ve been on a road trip” he smiles.

You copy him, feeling good in the moment. “Same, I don’t remember the last time I went to one.” you confessed, thinking only of all the times you had in the past when you were a child and as a teenager. 

Even back to when you were a young college student, wide eyed and so innocent to the chaos of your first college retreat with Hongjoong. That was the summer you two began dating, and boy were you fools in love. You cautiously look to your husband driving, bringing up past memories.

“Do you remember that one college retreat we went on during second year?” 

The corners of Hongjoong’s lips are already grinning upwards, smiling as he reciprocates your expression. 

“Right, like I could forget that summer” he replies sarcastically, gripping the steering wheel. 

It’s an easy memory to digest. A time when you were both so young, filled with nothing but dreams and passionate love for one another. Love so deep, that you remember the nights you’d spend locked up with Hongjoong under the sweaty bed sheets inside your cabin, blissfully making love until the sun would rise and he would finally kiss you to sleep. Perhaps, it was that summer when you realized you were going to marry and be with Kim Hongjoong forever someday. 

Though it’s too bad, someday already passed. 

“Do you remember when Seonghwa got so drunk he ended up confessing to Jieun in front of all the girl’s sleeping cabins?” Hongjoong snickers, relishing in the embarrassing memory his friend always hates him for bringing up. You laugh out loud, remembering the memory. “Oh my god, yes!” You turned to face him, shaking your head. “In nothing but his underwear, right?” 

Hongjoong nodded, smiling with one hand on the steering wheel as he drove.

“Didn’t he end up jumping into the lake afterwards? With you having to go in and save him as well?” You share your laughter with one another, catching up on past memories as your twin daughters listened attentively in the back, reliving them with you together.

That's what makes the hour and half drive from the city into the wilderness feel so short, finally pulling into the graveled parking lot of the vast cottage resort. White suburban cottages lined along one another, a good amount of distance in between each for every family staying. 

As Hongjoong parked the car, the view outside was so glorious you had to hold your breath. Glistening clear blue waves in the lake reflect the bright sunshine from above. A light breeze is present today with the way the willow and oak trees swayed gently. 

“It’s beautiful” you gasped from as far as you got out of the car, stretching your upper body with eyes closed as you inhaled the fresh air. 

Hongjoong stills his movements, shutting the door before replying with his gaze caught at your backside.

“Yeah, it is” he smiles.

Both of you turn around at a loud voice coming from behind. “We’re gonna explore the campsites and souvenir shops first!” Eunbyeol shouts as she runs away with her sister's hand in hers, towards the wooden cabin that's settled further away. 

“What about lunch?” you call to them. 

“We’re not hungry!”

Hongjoong tells them to be safe, and to stick around nearby. You smirked, helping him unload the trunk as you told him. “They’ll be fine. They’re probably too excited to even think right now” you giggled, bumping shoulders with him. 

You feel the tension that was once so strong between you two fade slowly, walking up the wooden steps of your lodge and exchanging conversation with each other.

“Hey, I just want my babies to be safe” he admits, a grin on his face as he holds the cooler in his hands. You chuckle, shaking your head at his protectiveness. 

“Here it is!” he exclaims, setting the suitcases in the front foyer as he opens the door. “Lodge number 1117”

The two story cottage is larger than it appears from the outside, having a modern yet rustic interior that you and Hongjoong admired. It had everything you would need, from a well designed kitchen area to a cozy living room space.

“It’s perfect, the kids will love it” you beam, looking at the hanging hammock chair in the corner of the living room and the gray stone fireplace. It fit perfectly for your family. 

Hongjoong smiles, sunglasses perched on top of his head as he sets the luggage down near the kitchen. Walking up beside him, you help him unload the cooler and ice boxes first, settling into your new home for the next few days. 

“I’m guessing you still drink?” you ask, looking in his direction as you unloaded the case of beer you saw him bring from the trunk.

He gestured to the booze. “C’mon, it wouldn’t be a vacation without it, would it?” 

You wholeheartedly agreed, placing a few in the fridge before you shut it closed. 

“Hopefully, this time we won’t end up shit faced like we did back in college” you laugh, turning to face him. 

“I can already picture that time we got so drunk from that bottle of tequila my friend brought, we snuck out of the campsite and went to the forest and got lost.” you spoke, the memory a little foggy but nonetheless fresh in your mind. 

Hongjoong smiles, listening as you speak.  

“There wasn’t anything but trees and bushes in that forest!” You exclaimed, shaking your head. “What did we even do there?” 

Hongjoong replies nonchalantly, folding the cardboard box in his hands.

“I’m pretty sure we fucked.”

You momentarily freeze at his words, before letting out a soft awkward laugh, causing him to look up. 

“No we didn’t, Hongjoong” you immediately deny, not believing his words. But your brows began furrowing at the foggy memory, starting to realize you really couldn’t trust your alcohol tolerance, now as an adult and even back when you were a college student. Did you guys have sex? In a forest out of all places?

Hongjoong leans against the kitchen counter, across from you as he crosses his arms in front of his chest and smirks smugly. 

“Nope, I distinctly remember it” he recalls, taking a step closer so he was now in your space. 

“I held your hand in mind as we walked up that trail by the cliff. And gosh, were we horny that night, because I remember you complaining about all that dirt you got on your knees from giving me the greatest head i've ever experienced in my entire life-” 

Slapping your hands over his mouth to stop him from going on, you blushed as you glared at him. 

“Jesus christ,” you mumbled, rolling your eyes before confessing.

“I get it, we fucked.”

Suddenly, you and Hongjoong break out into giggles like varsity sweethearts again at the story. Though embarrassed and cringing internally from the way you acted as young adults, it was nice to share them together now. At the proximity in which you’re standing in, you can't help but stare at each other softly. A hand wraps around your waist, making your breath hitch as he pulls you closer. 

“What are you doing?” you grin, watching him.

He looms over you, able to tell that something sits right at the tip of his tongue that he hesitantly decides to say. “I’m pretty sure,” he mutters, staring at your face and cautiously grazing the skin under your blouse. You feel your breathing speed up. 

“I also held you like this in my arms as you were leaning against that tree” his grip gentle and immediately transporting you back to the scenery that night. His sharp tone contrasts his touch. 

“Yknow, the one we fucked against?” he teases to you one more time.

The scent of burning campfire. A cold, midnight breeze. The feeling of the rough cedar tree against your back as Hongjoong thrusted inside you with every delirious snap of his hips, holding you close while he fucked you to oblivion with only the forest animals standing witness to your sinful actions. The film replays like a cheesy R-rated romance movie in your mind. 

“Did you, now?” You gulp, looking up at him as you adjust to the foreign feeling of his touch on your hips. 

“Yeah. I remember it all” he states, smirking down at you with an intense gaze.

The memory dies down when you catch yourself staring at his lips, arms finding their way around his neck as he dives down to whisper softly to you.

“Do you remember too?” He asks.

How he held you in his arms. How he whispered in your ear while you came around his cock, drool and traces of cum littering the corners of your mouth while Hongjoong didn’t care if you were stretching his flannel from how hard you were tugging at the material.

You nod. “I do,” you muttered, lashes fluttering as you felt as though your heart wouldn’t stop beating. “I remember you kissed me on the lips,” you confessed. 

Perhaps you wanted him to do it again right now. 

He looks in your eyes, searching for your approval that you desperately give, breath hitting each other's faces as he slowly leaned down to try and connect your lips. His chest is pressed against yours, and you begin to realize you haven’t shared the same breath like that in so long. You were so close to kissing right then and there.

If only you leaned in closer…

“We’re back!”

You push Hongjoong across the kitchen, shoving his hip painfully into the marble counter and ignoring his high-pitched groan of agony as you immediately look away to avoid suspicion, continuing to grab the beer from the icebox in front of you.

“Girls!” you exclaimed, voice wavering. 

Of course, Eunbyeol and Eunseo walk in with matching postcards and goodies from the souvenir shop in their hands, their sunglasses perched on their heads as their eyes lit up with excitement. They were still oblivious to the fact that they almost caught their parents about to make out in the kitchen.

“Dad, this place is amazing!” Eunbyeol deadpans, telling her father. “They even have jet skiing on the other side of the lake! We gotta go now!”

Hongjoong clutches his hip, pursing his lips as he hides his expression of pain and surprise. 

“Really? That's great sweetie”

Eunseo however, is quick to catch on.

“What were you guys doing?” she looks at you suspiciously. Her words hang in the air for a moment. 

“Were you guys about to kis-”

Hongjoong and you frantically scurry to find a plausible excuse, shuffling awkwardly. 

“I was helping your dad unload the cooler” 

“I was helping your mom get something out of her eye”

Both girls stare at you meekly. Eunbyeol scrunches her nose. “Huh?”

Plastering on a fake smile, you briskly leaped over the luggage nearby, ushering them upstairs before they had the chance to ask anymore questions.

“I think it’s time to unpack your things.” you watched their eyebrows quirk at the way you pushed them out the kitchen.

“We can do it on our own, mom! It’s really no big d-”

You clamp Eunbyeol’s mouth shut with your hand, blushing profusely as you walk away with them. 

Hongjoong stands there alone in the kitchen, rubbing his hip and wondering what the hell just almost happened.

The next few days, you and Hongjoong don’t discuss the incident between you two. Rather, the beginning of the trip after that event has become a painful performance trying your best to be eerily polite yet distant to each other in front of your children, as if that would make you forget the fact that you two almost kissed in the kitchen.

“Could you pass the sunscreen, honey?” Hongjoong would say awkwardly, turning his back to flash you a cheery smile on the lake deck as Eunbyeol and Eunseo watched you interact while floating in the cool, summer waters. 

You passed the bottle to your ex-husband while maintaining awkward distance. “Of course, darling!” 

“Thanks honey!”

“No problem sweetheart!”

This resulted in Eunbyeol and Eunseo looking at their parents in horror, the youngest twin muttering under her breath as they discussed an urgent change of plans.

“We have to get them to stop being weird.”

Apart from that, the ‘family bonding time’ promise to your daughters was maintained, and each day was an adventure for all of you in terms of what you would do together next. An accumulation of forest trekking, water-skiing and outdoors barbeques on the patio of your cottage made everyday feel more and more special for your girls, seeing how they relished in having both their parents with them at the same place and time. It became moments of peace and resolution that eventually became special for you and Hongjoong too. 

“I hope we stay here forever,” Eunseo blurted out one evening after a blissful day near the lakeshore, watching as the sun began to go down. She was busy licking the sticky sides of her melting ice cream cone in one hand, the other one held in yours. 

Hongjoong and Eunbyeol were a few feet ahead, laughing loudly and holding hands as they compared their fruit popsicles with one another to see whose was bigger. 

“You and Byeol would eventually get sick of going to the lake all the time” You smiled, the corners of your mouth turning up before her next words made the strings of your heart tug. 

“Sure, but at least you and dad could be together with us too.”

You watched as she ran up to her sister and dad, joining in on their fun as she began boasting that her ice cream was better than theirs. Hongjoong’s smile is the biggest you’ve ever seen it to be, looking down at his girls with a golden tan from the past few days spent outside, and hair slightly damp from swimming. 

Any person could tell the love in his eyes was as pure a father’s love for his girls could be. 

Her words stuck with you until that very night, where after dinner, board games, and much pacing back and forth in your own room before getting into bed, you decided to cautiously approach Hongjoong’s room on the opposite side of the second floor.

Bare feet padded across the wooden floors as you peeked through the sliver of the open door.

He's wearing an oversized sleep tee and blue pajama pants, getting in some nighttime reading before bed. His glasses are perched on his nose, intently reading his paperback novel. He looks as domestic as a husband gets. 

At the sound of your steps though, he sits up from his relaxed state on his bed, one arm that was supporting his head coming out as the other hand settles the book down on his abdomen. He looks surprised to see you. 

“Hi” he states, looking at you. 

“Hey”

Hongjoong’s expression immediately softened at your figure, watching as you shuffled awkwardly in front of him. The room is quiet. 

“Can I come in?”

“Of course,” He nods, setting his bookmark in the spine of the cover and turning his attention to you, offering you to take a seat on his linen covers. You see his polaroid camera with photos taken of Eunbyeol and Eunseo perched on a desk nearby. 

You don’t see the ones he secretly took of you, as those are in his drawers. 

“Don’t tell me you can’t sleep by yourself” he gently teases before watching as your smile doesn't reach the ends of your eyes. You wrap your silk robe closer to your body, feeling sort of vulnerable. 

“How do you like the resort so far?” He asks, watching as you played with your fingers absentmindedly. “Is the room okay?”

“It’s wonderful Hongjoong, better than I could ever have hoped for.” You spoke up, telling the truth.

It’s hard to arrange your thoughts in your head when it’s just the two of you in his room. The kids were already fast asleep. Now was your chance to just tell him how you felt. Why were you hesitating so much?

“Hey, look at me.” Hongjoong’s soft voice calls out to you, a protective hand coming out to caress the back of your head in habit. He can tell you want to say something, and the gesture makes you emotional, remembering how he always used to do that to ease your nerves when you were younger. 

“What’s wrong? Am I making things uncomfortable on the trip?” he worries about the boundaries you established with him at the beginning, watching as your lip begins to quiver and the emotions suddenly overcome you. 

“I just wanted to tell you I’m sorry.” you sniffled, tears forming near the brim of your eyes as you looked up at the father of your children. 

Hongjoong’s eyes widened, shifting through the covers over to you. “Woah, hey, shh that’s alright I got you” he coos, immediately going into dad mode and embracing you in his arms, letting your head rest against his chest. 

The action is natural, no longer foreign or weird, and you silently thank him for leaving reassuring circles on your back. Husband or not, Hongjoong would always be your best friend first. You had forgotten how much you missed this comforting side to him.  

“Tell me what you’re sorry about” he states, chest tightening at your wet cheeks before he slowly raises your chin to look him in the eyes. 

“For being mean to you for so long” you sniffle, a weakened state of emotional guilt eating away at you. You let him watch you carefully.

“I’ve been thinking about how happy the girls have been during this trip. A-And it kills me that we’ve been fighting for the past seven years, and that they’ve grown up seeing such bad parts of ourselves, of my own self” you ramble, confessing how you felt. 

You look up. “They’re happy because we’re together Joong. Because we’re not fighting or avoiding each other like we used to do before.”

He watches as you look up at him with tears forming in your eyes. 

“You’re such a good dad. And I realized you deserve to hear that.”

At the sounds of more sniffles, Hongjoong finally speaks, smiling as he brushes stray hair from your face. 

“I wouldn’t want anyone else but you to be the mother of our children, I hope you know that”

His truthfulness throws you off guard.

“I’m sorry too” he sighs, letting you sit up straight and look him in the eyes properly. “I haven’t been the best partner either, baby. We were both mean to each other.” he says, brushing a tear away from your face.

“I’m pretty sure you’ve thrown a hair dryer at me once before as well” he attempts to make you laugh, affection blooming in his chest when he sees he succeeds, wiping your tears. 

“But I already knew how you felt, sweetheart. I always know” he smiles, eyes mirroring a weak ache in his heart.  

“Married or not, we were once friends. And now we’re family” His voice turns deep, strong and dependable like the father he’s become.

“We can start over” you tell him, smiling as he folds his hands over your palm. “We can always do better from now and going forward. For ourselves, and for Eunseo and Eunbyeol.” 

Hongjoong nods, hesitantly for a split second before he leans over to press a soft kiss to your cheek, showing a gesture of affection that you longed for so long.

You shut your eyes, the kiss making your heart flutter. 

“Friends again?” He whispers, though silently wanting something more. 

You sighed, pulling him in closer to embrace in a hug. “Friends” you nodded while inhaling his comforting scent. 

The next morning, and for the rest of the remaining trip onwards, you and Hongjoong’s relationship dynamics did the equivalent of a 180 degree turn. 

It’s hard to believe you two really just wanted to be ‘friends’

Eunbyeol and Eunseo could tell by the way you talked to each other more, noticing you share more secret glances and fleeting touches that were innocent to the eye, but concealing a longing that you both tried to hide. You knew you couldn’t get carried away. You and Hongjoong were simply resolving a rough patch in your parenting. Not getting back together in a relationship. 

But after spending more time together while Eunbyeol and Eunseo became occupied on their own, it was hard keeping the interactions to a justified amount. Long walks in the forest, evenings spent cooking together, even cuddling together on the couch during family movie night. Thinking your kids were too busy watching the vintage Disney movie play on screen, when in fact, the real love story they were more invested in was happening right in front of their eyes, watching their parents falling in love again.

This led to the last event in their plan that they hoped would finally seal the deal. 

On Saturday night, the last night of your trip before you had to go back to the city, you and Hongjoong are surprised to find mini invitations left on your beds, scribbled in glitter pen and cursive handwriting reading out the following:

Gourmet Dinner Date for 2

Time: 7:30 pm

Location: Outdoor patio 

Dress code: Formal and Classy

You and your husband chuckled at the cards left on your beds, suddenly finding a twin each by your side and ushering you to get ready. 

“Do you and your sister even know how to cook dinner, Eunbyeol?” You questioned as your daughter rushed to push you into your walk-in closet, forcing you to get ready. 

She huffs, placing her hands on her hips looking offended. 

“At least my cooking skills don’t take after Dad’s, mom.” She mumbled, choosing your shoes for you. “Have some trust in a girl!”

Meanwhile, Hongjoong gets pampered by Eunseo in the other room, though in reality, her blunt critiques on her dads fashion are bruising his pride at the moment. 

“Dad, you have many normal clothes to wear. You have to chill with the ripped baggy jeans.” she demands, trudging through his closet to find something formal for him to wear. 

He begins to protest but his daughter shakes her head. “You’re supposed to look good for mom!” she huffs, searching on her own. At Eunseo’s words, the man starts to slightly worry, scratching the back of his head. 

“You and Byeol are gonna join too, right?”

She stops for a second, looking back to her father as she avoids the question and instead retorts back. 

“It’s just a date, Dad. Relax”

Back to what was happening in the other room at the end of the hallway, you huffed in frustration when you walked back into your closet after Byeol rejected another one of your outfits for the dinner date. 

“I have nothing else to wear, sweetie, these are all the clothes I have.” you came to terms with a hand coming to your forehead after having searched in despair. 

The ten year old shakes her head before pushing you out of the way and digging deep into your suitcase. She reveals a delicate piece of material you didn’t even realize you packed. 

“We got some help from Aunt Sophie and Uncle Hwa to pack you guys clothes that you could wear for a special occasion.” she wiggles her eyebrows, a smug grin on her face as you gap in shock. 

You inspect the dress, lips parting in disbelief as you feel the material. 

“I haven’t worn this since I was in college.” You uttered softly to yourself. 

At one longing look of the short dress, you shake your head, walking back into the closet to find something else. “I-I can’t wear this Byeol, what would your dad think?“ you asked nervously.

“Dad said he thinks your boobs looked hot in this dress so Aunt Sophie and I picked it specially” she looks up at you, proud of what she just said.  

You whip your head around, mouth hanging open in shock.

“Byeol! Where did you hear that from?” 

She sighs. “Dad had one too many drinks this one time and started talking about you guys back in college” she explained before shoving the infamous black dress in your hands. 

“Talked a lot about how pretty you were,” she draws out her words in a teasing voice. You curse your husband for his mistake.

You bite your lip as you stare down at the fabric in your hands. 

It was undeniable. You knew you looked amazing in this dress. You could testify from the amount of times Hongjoong ripped it off of you after countless night out’s filled with sexual tension and playful flirting. For god's sake, Eunbyeol and Eunseo could’ve almost had another sibling thanks to that dress.

“Fine.” you muttered bashfully, turning away as you walked into the closet to change. 

“But I’m just gonna try it on.”

Thirty minutes, one mental breakdown and too many outfit changes to count later, you walk down the stairs wearing the dress Eunbyeol had successfully persuaded you to wear. 

What do you know, the kid was right. Your boobs looked amazing in that dress. 

Not just your boobs, your whole body looked incredible with its strong curves and the beautiful fill it gave to the dress, making it slightly tighter than when you wore it as a twenty year old, but still all the more mature and sophisticated. You really did look hot.

Eunbyeol rushes down the stairs before you, catching up with her sister to inspect her job on their fathers preparation. 

“Well?” She says expectedly, looking at her dad. “Let’s take a look!”

He sports a simple yet timeless white collar dress shirt, the first few buttons undone as he wears a form fitting black dress-vest that accentuates his waist, dress pants paired to go along with it. Though simple, his silver rings pulled the outfit together, making him just as good looking and sophisticated as you were. 

Hongjoong’s back faces towards your front, watching as the man nervously shuffles his hands in his pockets.

“How do I look guys?” He gulps, adjusting his collar and sweeping his blond hair back. 

Eunseo rolls her eyes, a grin on her proud little face. “Do you even have to ask, dad?” She’s more than confident in the outfit she and Seonghwa coordinated together. 

He chuckles, shaking his head as he nervously tells them. 

“I want to look good for your mom, you know what I mean? She's a difficult woman to impress sometimes.”

“I’m difficult?” You tease, walking down the last few steps of the stairs. 

The man turns his head around, losing his breath at the sight of you standing there in front of him, wearing that dress that he hadn’t seen you wear for so long, looking breathtaking in every possible way. 

“Hi” you grinned softly, feeling sort of shy.

The way you fit in that dress made an insatiable hunger fuel inside Hongjoongs chest, eyes gazing at the way you strutted over in the black, lace covered material with your hair tied back and glossed lips turned upwards as your dimples showed. He breaks from his admiration when you quirk a brow at him, making the man almost fall to his knees and stutter uncontrollably. 

“I-I No I didn’t mean that-“

You giggle as you bravely take Hongjoongs hands in your own, shutting him up as you turn to your daughters standing in front of you, starstruck at your aura. 

“Outside, right?” you winked at them. 

“Right this way!” Eunseo enthusiastically leads you out back to the outdoor patio, a perfect view of the garden and lakeside coming into effect. Hongjoong slips his hand from yours, and slides it across your waist, pulling you into his side. 

“My parents are too cool” Eunbyeol sighs under her breath, watching from behind in awe.

Your ex-husband makes you swoon when he leans in to whisper softly. “You look breathtaking, sweetheart.” feeling an immense sense of pride at how lucky he was to make you the mother of his children. 

You blush, turning to him to whisper playfully back. 

“Not bad yourself.” 

You both look forward when you come to a stop at the patio steps, sheer amazement at the full preparation your daughters did for this event. Fairy lights were hung around the area, a table with two chairs on either side placed with a white table cloth and a bouquet of freshly hand picked flowers from the forest, battery powered candles that were sold at the souvenir shop lit in the middle and glowing softly. 

Eunbyeol dashes to the door when it rings, making you and Hongjoong furrow your brows. 

“Is someone here?” he asks, watching Eunseo fold a napkin over her arm like the pro waiter she was. The other one walks out, an oily fast food paper bag in her hands as she smiles. “Dinner is served!” 

“Turns out that diner 15 minutes away also delivers!” She chuckled, helping her sister plate the two cheeseburgers, fries, and vanilla and strawberry milkshakes. 

You and Hongjoong continue to watch in stunned amazement as the girls prepare the not exactly gourmet(?) but still impressive meal in front of you, their small hands working swiftly. 

“You guys prepared all of this?” You asked, getting a little emotional. They grin proudly, nodding their heads. “We called the place earlier and planned it all by ourselves!”

You pressed a kiss to each of their soft cheeks, thanking them both as Hongjoong did the same. 

“What did I do to get so lucky with my girls?” he smiles, ruffling their heads. 

“What about you guys?” You asked, watching as they slowly backed away to give you two some privacy. 

“Natalie and her mom invited us over for dinner and a sleepover tonight at her cottage,” Eunbyeol smiles. At the mention of their newly made friend that they had gotten close to over the week, Hongjoong looks at you then back at them. 

“What? But- ”

She cuts him off, rolling her eyes. “Her mom said it’s totally fine with her. She’s only two cottages down, and she’ll make sure we’re back in time again for tomorrow when we leave!” 

The two girls smile in excitement, though the both of you have your parental instincts kick in. 

“Please?” they begged, wanting you to let them go so that they could do this for you guys as much as they wanted to do it for themselves. “She’s waiting for us now!”

Hongjoong feels guilty. “C’mon, you guys should still join us!”

Eunseo immediately shakes her head, declining the offer. 

“Tonight is all about you guys. We don’t want to intrude” she chuckles, bumping shoulders with her sister who chips in.

“We’ll text you guys in the middle to let you know everything’s good of course” 

You and Hongjoong smile, a feeling of immense proudness overwhelming you from seeing your daughters act so grown up. There wasn’t anything else you felt grateful for more. 

“Thank you girls.” you muttered softly, watching as they flashed you a wink before hurrying out through the backyard door. 

“Don’t get all kissy in the backyard!” Eunbyeol teases, making cheesy smooching sounds with the back of her hand as her sister rolls her eyes and shoves her out. 

Before you know it, you’re left standing with just the sound of smooth jazz playing on the patio speakers and the buzzing of the summer cicadas. 

“She takes after you, I hope you know that” You told Hongjoong softly.  

He chuckles, “Not as much as you.” He gestures to the table. “Shall we?” 

And that’s how the next few hours seem to pass by without even realizing. 

You see, there was a reason why you fell in love with the man sitting in front of you, and you’re just beginning to remember it now. Being with Hongjoong felt as if the moment was everlasting, and you could testify that from the amount of laughter and deep conversation that was shared over dinner, bringing you to sit on that patio until the sun had set. Every so often you’d smile again at the thought of the twins preparing this all for you. 

“I don’t remember the last time I’ve been on a date like this” You blurted out after laughing about something, taking a sip of your strawberry milkshake through a straw. 

“Oh, so we’re going on dates now, are we?” Hongjoong grins, making you roll your eyes at him. 

You lean forward on the table cloth, watching as a glimmer passes through your husband’s eyes while he sits back in his chair, cocking his head to the side as he clears his voice. 

“But you’ve gone on dates after we split, haven’t you?” he asks, leaning forward in interest now, letting his chin rest on his palm. 

You shook your head slowly.

“Nope. Not since signing those papers” you revealed. 

Hongjoong furrows his brows in surprise. “And why’s that?” 

You suddenly didn’t have an answer. “I-I don’t know, I just…” You began, watching how he looked at you with an unreadable expression. You smiled, looking down and suddenly feeling embarrassed. 

“I guess I was too focused on running the bridal shop, I couldn’t find the time to.” You use as a cliche excuse. 

“Bullshit” he retorts back immediately. 

“It’s true!” You protested, throwing a fry at him that he dodges, landing on his finished plate. 

“You always did say back when we were younger that you wanted to be a designer. And look at you now” he admires, letting the candle lights shine a youthful glow to your face. 

“You always said you wanted to become a music producer and write your own songs.” you reciprocated, smiling as you soaked in the presence of one another. “And here you are now.” 

You think for a moment before asking the same question. 

“How about you?” 

Hongjoong silently shakes his head as his answer, though silently thinking about something else. The music changes to some old Billy Joel song in the back. You don’t realize it, but Hongjoong smiles to himself when he realizes the girls added it to the playlist. Of course they had to, it was one of the songs you played at your wedding. 

“What were we thinking when we got married like that?” You asked out loud, looking at how far you’d both come. You definitely skipped some of the order of the stages of a normal relationship. 

“I mean, we had no money, no prospects. Hell, we didn’t even have a car, Hongjoong!” you realized.

Your husband laughs, sitting straight and letting some skin show through his unbuttoned collar. 

“We were young” he justifies. 

“Yeah, and stupid too,” you pointed out, feeling the summer breeze pass by. It felt good to sit here like this with him.

You wondered, could sitting here like this with Hongjoong be a regular thing? After this trip, would you be able to walk back into each other’s lives again like this? 

As both parents and lovers?

Hongjoong brings up something you wouldn’t have expected him to. 

“Do you remember when we first found out about Eunseo and Eunbyeol?” he questioned softly, looking at you. 

You blink, taken aback. Suddenly you’re back in your college dorm washroom, sobs wracking through your body as Hongjoong who had only just sent his first few mixtapes to recording stations and companies nearby, pulled you close into his chest, eyeing the two lines left on the counter while he caressed your back. Only twenty years old and figuring out what you wanted to do with your lives, you were suddenly stuck in a sudden situation that had made you feel like your dreams would have been given up on completely. 

“I do,” you told him, pulling yourself from the memory. 

“I remember because in that moment I felt like the whole world was caving in”. You laughed, though it wasn’t fully cheerful.

“I don’t regret it, though” Hongjoong replies after some thought, gazing at you with truth in his eyes. 

You shook your head. “Of course. Neither do I.” 

It was a blessing to have two beautiful daughters as the product of your love.

“I don’t regret you either.” Hongjoong states.

You lock gazes, unable to take your eyes off of his face. 

“I loved you when I first met you and I still loved you when we divorced,” he says all at once, making your breath hitch and heart waver. 

“Don’t say that.” you tell him, looking away and suddenly reminding yourself you’re still divorced from the man sitting in front of you. 

How could he still love you after all this time? How could you feel the same about him?

Hongjoong continues, shaking his head as he bites back the lodge in his throat and makes up his mind. He has to tell you. 

“Truthfully, I don’t think I’ll ever stop loving you.” 

Don’t do this to me you begged silently.

“I’ve hurt you just as much as you’ve hurt me.” He swallows, thinking back to the times you already knew he was referring to. The times where you fought to the point where there wasn’t even anything worth fighting for anymore. 

“But you have given me the greatest gifts of my life.” He smiles, holding his tears back.

“And for that I will always love you.”

You push your seat from the table, suddenly feeling overwhelmed and wanting to avoid him.

“I can’t do this anymore.” you dejected, walking away from the patio and from Hongjoong.

There wasn’t anything else you could fake anymore. You couldn’t bear to hear the man you once loved, possibly even still love, say these things like he had a dagger lodged in his heart. Didn’t he know he was only going to do the same to you?

Hongjoong is quick to catch up, holding onto your wrist and turning you around, that your back collides with the nearest wall inside, pressing your fronts together and closing the distance.

“Why do you always run away from me? From the possibility of us?” He exclaimed, voice breaking. His heart crushed at the way you turned your head, hot tears already clouding your vision. 

“Because ‘us’ can’t happen again, Hongjoong!” You cried, staring up at the man you once promised your life to.

“Don’t you get it? Us going on this trip isn’t a sign to get back together. What would we do seven years after breaking up?”

“We could do it” He states firmly, staring you down, both your chests heaving.

You bite your tears back again. “No we couldn’t, honey. We would be pretending to think we solved our marriage. What would we do about our daughters? After putting them through our constant fighting— ”

He slams his lips to your own, shutting you up as you painfully resist his touch. Your hands came up to push him away, but at the sudden gesture, you’re already giving in and sobbing softly, letting him hold you for just one last time. 

Your lips mold so perfectly, it almost hurts how much you missed this feeling. To have him slot his arms around your waist, pull you in close, and cherish you. You almost forgot this feeling. 

He pulls away softly, watching your lashes flutter, pleading to you for a chance as he leans closer, making your breath hitch. 

“We could be together as a family again,” he states firmly, your name leaving his lips in a desperate plea. “We never know if we try—”

You drown out his words, looking up with tears falling as you cut him off. 

“Seven years ago I gave you those papers to sign, thinking that you would’ve chased after me,” 

Hongjoong holds his breath, watching as the next words stumble from your mouth. 

“I realize now, how stupid I was to think that.”

“I didn’t know you wanted me to chase you”

Shoving his chest away while mustering the last of your strength you uttered. “Of course I wanted you to chase me.” You let go of his hands. “It’s too late either way”, walking away from the defeated man.

Hongjoong stands alone near the patio entrance, watching his tears fall to the wooden floorboards. Holding the ring he had kept hidden in his trouser pocket, he plays with it in his fingers, silently wishing he had given it to you sooner. 

It rains the next morning on your departure back to the city. Perfect, considering it reflects the sudden storm of utter depression that falls upon your family. Long gone are the cheerful giggles and longing stares that were shared between you and Hongjoong during the ride to the cottage. 

There was no room for that, not after last night.

Eunbyeol and Eunseo sat slumped in the backseat, rain hitting the roof of the car as they mindlessly played on their cell phones. Really, they were peeking from behind every so often and watching their parents sit in the front seat with tension so thick, you could’ve cut it with a knife. 

What had they done wrong? They planned the trip, the activities, the dinner— it was all perfect. And yet why were you still fighting with each other? 

These questions racked in their brains, baffled to have witnessed the sight of their parents refusing to talk to each other after walking back from their friends' sleepover. 

Eunbyeol and Eunseo felt as useful as matchmakers without a couple, feeling their efforts all gone down the drain. 

At the sudden ring of your cell phone, you pick up, answering at the voice of your assistant. 

“I’m driving back up right now”

Hongjoong continues focusing on the road, the occasional wiping of rain from the windshield wipers on the front window. 

“Yes. That’s okay, I'll take care of it.” You muttered, glancing at the rear view mirror for a moment. Your twin daughters immediately sigh, having an idea of what to expect when you say those familiar words. 

“Thanks for letting me know.” 

You hang up the phone, 

“One of us isn’t going with you, are we?” Eunseo asks, making you look back at her with a sigh. 

“No, you’re not” You confess, apologetic. ‘I’m sorry honey. I really am.”

You look back facing the front, swallowing as you told Hongjoong. 

“You’ll have to drop me off at the studio. Some things aren’t working out with the client so they need me to come in and take care of it.”

He nods, unphased as he continues to look straight. 

“Will you be fine with the girls?” You asked carefully, watching them as they were slumped in the backseat.

Hongjoong grips the wheel before turning to you. 

“I‘ll be fine. Don’t worry about it” sending a small smile, though it doesn’t fully reach his eyes. 

The twins thank god that at least neither of them had to choose to go back home with either parent. 

They would’ve hated that more. 

After barely being able to depart and say goodbye to your daughters in front of your studio, holding them close for a warm embrace and thanking them for an unforgettable weekend, Hongjoong drives off with his daughters, an empty feeling cascading his thoughts. He puts on a smile still, trying to cheer up his girls. 

“What do you want to do first when we go home? Want to unpack and then eat? We can eat and then unpack. Or we could- ”

Eunseo crosses her arms, having been fed up for far too long.

“Dad, you must be out of your mind.” 

Hongjoong stills, furrowing his brows and peeking at the first born who crosses her arms, holding an attitude. 

“Eunseo, what are you- ” 

“You’re telling me you and Mom just spent a whole entire week together at the cottage, had the best time of your lives since separating with one another, and now you’re just going to go back to not speaking or talking to each other again?”

Hongjoong blinks at his daughter’s sudden outburst, already making a turn into the driveway of his house.  

Eunbyeol now reciprocates her twin, looking at her dad as she slouches beside him, coming near the front seat area. 

“She’s got a point dad. Do you really just not love mom anymore?” She worries, looking up at him genuinely concerned. 

Hongjoong doesn’t know how to answer these sudden questions right now, stuttering to reply.

“Me and your mother are fine!” He lies, trying to reassure them. “That trip wasn’t just for us, it was also for you two to enjoy— ”

Eunseo asks the million dollar question. 

“If you still love Mom, why are you letting her go a second time?” 

With the engine turned off, it's gone silent. Two pairs of eyes staring at their father, awaiting his response. 

“Well? Are you going to chase after her or not?!” Eunbyeol groans, her fathers lack of response making her pull her hair. 

They were right. How could he have made the same stupid mistake twice?

Hongjoong struggles to put the keys back in the engine, telling them to put their seat belts back on. Their eyes begin to glow with hope.

“Do you girls mind staying at your uncle’s for a bit?” He asks hurriedly, punching into his cell phone to call his brother for a favor as he pulls out of the driveway. Eunbyeol squeals, hands clamping over her mouth as her sister speaks on behalf of them both. 

“Dad, if you don’t drop us off and get your butt over to mom’s right away, I’m gonna report you to child services.” she threatens, watching as he steps on the accelerator, heart pumping so fast as he smiles through the rear view mirror.

You sighed, holding up your cellphone to your ear. 

“Call me once she approves the design then,” you told your assistant through the receiver, one hand looking over the sheets of paper, highlighting the changes to the new blueprint. 

“Alright then, bye.” 

After hanging up the phone, you rubbed your temples, head pounding as you tucked the files back into the folder. 

The clock in your studio showed the hands about to reach seven pm. A few hours had already passed since coming back from your trip to the cottage, trying to forget everything by burying your focus into the new dress prints a client of yours requested, remodeling them after the original was rejected. 

Fingers worked away swiftly, comparing textiles and fabrics as you looked at the piles of papers and messy sticky notes in front of you. But yet the gears in your mind seemed to churn achingly slow, sighing as you repeatedly told yourself the same thing. 

Just focus on the dress, focus on the dress, focus on the dress.

Don’t think about him. 

The task is impossible. Your mind can’t help but slip back to what your relationship has become with Hongjoong, and what you were going to do now that those seven days were over. For so long you had deprived yourself from indulging in your love life, prioritizing taking care of Eunseo and Eunbyeol while juggling your job as a designer. Had you been doing it all wrong? 

Hongjoong’s words repeat in your head like a broken record player. 

I will always love you

Lies. That promise couldn’t be kept. Your divorce was a clear outcome of it. You and Hongjoong were two people not meant for one another. You were too different, all you would do is hurt one another, make life an unbearable living hell—

And yet you missed him. You missed Hongjoong so much. 

What was fucking keeping you from loving him? Was it your stubbornness? Was it really the fact that he didn’t chase after you? Or was it none of that and just your own self being stupid?

The front door of the studio opens, pulling you from your thoughts as you got back to the sketches. You called up from your desk as you worked quietly. 

“The studios closed for the- ”

Heavy breathing. The man who just walked in catches his breath from dashing out of his car and up the three flights of stairs, driving through almost an hour of traffic in pouring rain to be here in this moment with you.

“Hongjoong?”

He’s drenched, making a mess on the floor of the studio as the droplets fall softly one by one. 

Suddenly he's striding over to where you’re sitting in long steps before slamming his lips against yours. The kiss throws you off guard, the shock of his cold hands cradling your face makes you close the gap unknowingly. 

Linking your arms around his neck while kissing back passionately, you let your hands rest on his shoulders, pulling back for air as you panted heavily, catching your breaths and looking at each other with pure love and lust. 

“Why are you here?” you asked, feeling dumb because your heart already knew the answer. His hands wrap around your waist, desperate as if you would leave him again. 

But he’s just so fucking tired of that now. He just wants to love you now.

“I lost you once.” He breathes, eyes watering.

“I’m not going to lose you again”. 

Suddenly, everything that kept you from being with each other is thrown away. 

That hate, that fear, everything is gone because you realize you still needed each other. You’re still the same twenty year old couple standing in that dorm washroom, holding each other close and knowing it’ll be okay because at least you had each other. 

You grasp onto his damp shirt, pulling him down with such force that your lips meet again, taking charge as you finally allowed him to have you. 

“You’re a fucking idiot” you whined between kisses, curses escaping your lips when he softly bites the flesh of your neck to test the waters. “I hope you know that”

He agrees wholeheartedly, nodding as if he was already getting pussydrunk.

“I’m an idiot” he mumbles to himself, letting it escape his lips like a mantra. Well, he was stupid enough to only chase after you this late, so if his wife told him he was an idiot, then so he was.

“Let me prove how much I love you,” a hand comes to graze near the collar of your shirt. 

You gasped, watching as Hongjoong lifted you from your seat and rutted his hips against your core pathetically, your ass digging into the edge of the table.

“Here?” Your eyes widened, watching his expression turn dark. He presses kisses on your collarbone, making your hands grasp the wood for support. “Hongjoong wait,” you exhaled in a deep breath, heart beating against your chest.

But he doesn’t give a shit. He’s tired of waiting. 

“It’s been too fucking long” he protests, ripping your top off. You’re dizzy from how abruptly he’s stripping you, latching onto his shoulders for support as you wobble from him unzipping your jeans and pushing them down, exposing you in nothing but your underwear and bra. 

And like the good little whore you are, you immediately spread your legs, letting Hongjoong get a view of the embarrassingly wet patch leaking through your panties as he’s crouched down to let you step out of the denim near your ankles.

Holy fucking shit

You stand bashfully, toes curling from how exposed and vulnerable you were being the only one naked. 

“Please?” you asked nicely, letting your foot rest on his shoulder as your pussy was now on full display for him.

You don’t have time to even finish the last word before Hongjoong dives in, lapping at your soaking cunt and humming in pure ecstasy at the taste. The muffled vibrations make you throw your head back, tugging on his locks to shove his face further. 

Hongjoong’s hands press into your thighs that cage his head in, leaving a grip that you guarantee with littering the flesh with red splotchy bruises. Did you mind? Not at all.

When his tongue pokes at the gummy flesh of your walls, you let out a full moan, echoing throughout the studio as the air begins to smell like sex. 

“Right there, yes” you urged him, leg beginning to shake from how weak it was getting. 

He's so invested, you fear he might suffocate any longer if he doesn’t pull back for air. So you grasp his head, pushing him away from his meal while you both gasped lightly.

You watch him wipe his slick covered chin with the back of his hand, not breaking eye contact as he stares. 

“You were just begging to be fucked for all these years, weren’t you sweetheart?” He teases. 

Though you wanted him to lap at your juices until you came, you knew you needed to still feel his cock inside after so long. 

Your fingers played with the hem of your underwear, smiling back at your husband. 

“And you were just begging to get a taste of this pussy, weren’t you, Joong?” wiping that smug grin off his face.

”Lay down for me” he demands, getting up so that one hand finds its way to the back of your bra to unclasp it. The other clears half your desk covered in wedding dress blueprints and sketches, making sure nothing would make you uncomfortable before he fucked you on that mahogany surface so all you’d remember would be his name. 

And people said romance was dead. 

When the bra slides off and your bare back hits your desk, you suddenly realize what Hongjoong’s intention was when he ordered you to do that. 

Soft mounds spill out as your breasts take their natural form, giving Hongjoong the perfect view of your tits. Pervert. 

He immediately latches his tongue on a nipple, taking his hand and playing with the other, twisting painfully. 

A cry escapes your lips, parting them open as you let him play with them as much as he wanted to. He smiles against the motherfuckers, knowing that shut you up perfectly. 

“Are you ready for me to fuck you now?”

“Please, Joong, I need you” you whined, submitting yourself to your husband. He already knows you’re in need of one last kiss, coming up to give his wife what she wants by slotting his lips against yours again, this time much harsher. 

“Tell me so that I treat you good, baby” he mumbles, pulling back and making you clench your thighs together. He undoes his shirt in the meantime, unbuckling his belt and pressing a sweet kiss to your cheek when you sobbed. 

“Fuck me, please” 

His fingers slide your panties to the side to press his aching tip to your wet core. 

“Like this?” He teases.

“Inside, Hongjoong” you emphasized, meaning what you said with the way your nails dug into a pile of papers nearby. Biting your lip from how sensitive and needy your cunt was. 

“I know, I know,” he murmured, smiling to himself after messing with you. 

“I just missed this pretty cunt” before in one strong thrust, Hongjoong’s bulging tip enters inside your walls, giving you a stretch you forgot how much you loved. You whined softly. 

“Shit” he curses, relishing how the buildup finally led to this moment. 

The man is ravenous, but he’s genuinely trying his best to ease the painful stretch as you adjust to his thickness, nipping your neck in a trail of hickeys and love bites posessively.

With every thrust he makes, you arch your back, pencils and papers shuffling near by you. 

“Fucking look at my wife” he admires proudly, watching the woman he loves bounce her tits at every thrust of his cock. 

“S’too much” you caved in, shaking your head at the stimulation. 

You claw at his arms, head turning to the side as your eyes roll back from pleasure. 

“I know, mama, I know” 

He grabs a tit in his left hand, the right one coming down to play with your clit, pressing slow circles near where you were connected. 

“Fuck, I missed these” He rasps, savouring the feeling of your soft flesh in his hand, making you throw your head back. 

“Missed how they looked when you were pregnant” he says, thinking of how ethereal you looked when you were knocked up with his kids. 

“God, at this point I’m gonna get you fucking pregnant again” Hongjoong grunts, snapping his hips deliriously back and forth. He envisions you round and full, fulfilling his inner fantasy. 

“Shut up.” You spat, breaking the mood as you bit your lip to suppress a moan. He almost laughs when you then crane your hips back to give him easier access to keep penetrating you. The desk shuffles. 

“Your mouth is saying one thing, honey, but your body is saying something else” 

After hearing his words, you suck him in further, both of you now getting close. 

“M’close. M’so close!” you whimpered, sitting up so that now Hongjoong could hold you in his arms, caging your body so his cock could stuff you better. 

Your mouth hangs open in silent bliss, hands scratching his back. You leaned into his ear, making the final chord inside him snap. 

“Make me cum, daddy” 

And just like that, you’re clenching around Hongjoong’s massive cock as a creamy white ring begins to form. Hot ropes fill you up inside, tangled in a sweaty mess as he purrs, caressing the back of your head again in habit. 

“So fucking good, sweetheart. You did so good for me”

The sounds of your breathing fill the studio, a pencil or two rolling quietly away on the ground from being shoved off the desk. He shakes his head when you try to pull your sweaty bodies away, hair sticking to your neck but feeling the way he refuses. 

“Just let me love you,” he mumbles into your shoulder, dick softening inside you. “Just for a moment.”

You’re too tired to say anything back, so you finally give in. 

Seven years passed by you two without even realizing how much you still loved each other. Though you wouldn’t be able to get that time back, for once, there was something that you and Hongjoong agreed upon. 

You had no intention of wasting that time any more. 

𝐄𝐏𝐈𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐔𝐄:

Months later, and it still takes everything in Eunbyeol and Eunseo hearts to not scream at the sight of their parents when they walk hand in hand, smiling happily in public as they pick their daughters up from the first day of school. 

The girls jump into their parent’s embrace, eying the two silver rings they now wore proudly together. 

“How was school, darlings?” Hongjoong asks, pressing a kiss to Eunseo and Eunbyeol. 

“It was fun! We watched a documentary about lovebirds” she smiled, looking back up. You laughed softly.

“Which reminded me to tell you,” she grins, watching as you, her sister, and father all looked at her. 

“I hope you know that getting you and dad back together was my plan from the start.” she confesses, smirking at Eunbyeol who scoffs, crossing her arms. 

“Nuh uh, this was my idea first!” 

Before her sister could yell at her twin, you jumped in. 

“Plan? What plan?” You asked quizzically, both you and Hongjoong standing there confused.

“To get you guys to fall back in love again, of course!” Eunseo smiles, both her and her sister now giggling softly together.  

“How am I just finding out that there was a plan?” Hongjoong mutters, scratching his neck in confusion. You turned to the two girls, stopping in your tracks on your way to the car

“When did you two even think of all this?” grinning in astonishment as you felt Hongjoong slot his hand and intertwine it with yours. It felt natural now.

“Yeah, I'm curious too” he states, leaning close and becoming intrigued.

Your daughters look at each other before smiling. 

“It’s a long story.”

But at last, time is something you finally now have as a reunited family of four, walking back to your car, holding hands with a twin on each side.

Listening carefully, as your daughters start from the very beginning.

taglist: @vent-stink @dazzlingstarrs @vcutparis @xpixie @potatos-on-clouds @showingmafandomlove @bibbleypoof @kpop-will-kill-me @avantalem @beabatiny @gabrielle-brugger @nsixns @amaranth1ne @stayminho @myblovedjyh @kkeshia @rebekah-reads @yoonbroom @4kwp @butterflydemons @iwaizumiismybae @soobinsputnik @stayatinykatsy @atitties @justconniez @kitten4sannie @ghostskilledmyaddiction21 @cheolsthicthighs @morethingsfandom @geminiml95 @byuntrash101 @quailbagutte @syubseokie @newworldwritings @urmom26john @sleepy-kat-here @pearltinyy @hjshyhyssnmgwyjh @cursedeastern @starryunho @piratekingateez2001 @jiminbility @paumll @drinkingrumandcocacola @roomsofangel @channies-bbg-room @meanaonthemoon @teeztopia @pommelex @kiln9z @sanhwalvr @youresolivlie @edawg77 @a-0206 @summer-gyu @bvidzsoo @yoongzsmile28 @tournesol155

[luveline]

I don’t really have a request I just love anything you write💗 maybe something with girly!reader?

thanks lovely💗

Spencer wrings his hands behind his back, shifting from one foot to the other unhappily. He hasn't felt this nervous since he was young —his PhDs have acted as a shield for years now. Even if he doesn't know what to do, he physically cannot be stupid. 

He feels pretty stupid. Less when you look up, smile blinding and sticky with gloss. He's thought about how it would feel to kiss you before and he tries desperately to push the thought away now, his hands shaking where they're hidden. 

"Hey, Spencer Reid," you say, lightly teasing as you wave him toward you. "How are you?" 

"I'm good." 

"Yeah?" You gesture at the empty seat in front of you. "Are you having lunch?" 

The bureau cafeteria is less of a cafeteria in the kitchen sense and more of a staff room, though hot food is served at the very back. There are couches toward the patio of an outdoor area to the left. You sit at one of the tables near the doors. The air is cold around his ankles as he sits with you. 

"No, I– I came down for coffee, but the jug is empty." It's a bad lie. Luckily you have no idea that there's a kitchen in the BAU offices. "You're not?" 

You turn your laptop screen to him. "I ate my lunch at my desk. I'm just catching up with my show." Your laptop has stickers around the screen, silver shiny stars and tiny pink hearts that look like they're made of jelly. There's a closed bottle of nail polish resting near the keyboard. "And I'm gonna touch up my nails, too. They're always chipping." 

"They look perfect to me," Spencer says. 

You beam at him, beatific, so, so pretty, he could die. He might. "Thanks, honey. You'd look cute with painted nails, have you ever thought about it?" 

Spencer honestly forgets about his nails. He should take better care of them. He thinks about hiding them under the desk. "I don't think I could do it." 

"No one's good at it, at first. I'd paint them for you, if you wanted. I have a couple of things in my bag." 

Spencer's relieved to present freshly trimmed nails to you for painting. Your polish is a light blue colour, milky, and he assumes it'll be the one you use on him, but you decide to ruin his life, taking his hand into one of yours. You hold his fingers in a way that presents the nail as you brush cuticle oil around the edges of his nails with a small pen brush. You chatter as you do in your way, all sweet and gentle in mirror of your touch. 

He's proud of himself for keeping his cool. To have you touching him for so long, so kindly, to have your attention, it has him squirming with a mixture of pleasure and horror. He wants to be seen by you but he doesn't know if he likes what you're looking at. 

"You have really lovely hands," you say, using the tip of one of your nails to scrape stray wet polish off of his skin, "do you play piano?" 

"You can tell?" he asks. 

"Pianist's fingers," you say. "That's a thing, isn't it?" 

"I haven't played much since I was younger. I got distracted by other stuff." 

"Maths," you surmise. "And criminology?" 

Everything. He pushed away a want for human connection with books and education until it got too much. Even the wisest of honeybees will brave heavy rain for a beautiful flower, and that's sort of how he feels about you. He knows it's stupid, knows it's doomed, but he couldn't not try to speak to you. You're the prettiest girl he's ever seen, all your lip colours and shimmery eyeshadows, the chirpy way you talk, the earnestness of your please and thank yous. 

Your hands. The silver ring on your index finger dotted with tiny pink stones. Your bracelets. The smell of your perfume and your soft sweaters. 

"Done," you announce, an uncharacteristic hesitance to your tone. "Are they okay?" 

You've done a perfect job. "They're so neat. Thank you. I– I love it." 

Your eyes linger on his hands. "I love when guys wear nail polish. You're even handsomer now, it's crazy. I didn't know it was possible." 

Spencer should have more style for sure, but he asks you to dinner right then and there. 

You smile until the lashes kiss in the corners of your eyes and say yes. This new place opened just around the corner from your apartment, and you've been trying to drum up the courage to ask him all week. When Spencer hears that he almost passes out. 

[miles-wrightworth]

Miles and Phoenix headcanon dump

TW for self harm, abuse, disordered eating, trauma, sui attempts, scars, ableism and homophobia mentioned once

put some of your fav headcanons about them in the replies/reblogs and tell me your fav of mine!

these guys are not okay. headcanons below (not all angsty I swear)

Miles

Full Name: Miles Gregory Edgeworth

Gender: demiboy/boyflux, he/they

Appearance hcs: 

Really pretty eyes

he has many scars on his shoulder from an incident with MvK

he has some scars from a suicide attempt around his neck (ropeburn)

He has self harm scars on his forearms and thighs. Lots of them

He has scars on each of his wrists from his 1yg suicide attempt

He is VERY pasty. Like he's WHITE ASF. 

General hcs:

Has an eating disorder (anorexia-bulimia) because of MvK’s constant harsh criticism of his appearance

Struggles with self-harm (cuts on forearms and thighs)

Has tried to kill himself multiple times

When he left the ‘choosing death’ note, he meant it. He has the scars on his wrists to prove it

Trans. He hid it from MvK and has pretty much been stealth his whole life. He never goes on T, just does voice training and gets top surgery when he ‘chooses death’ in germany. He has to recover alone. (or with Void vk)

Gay. women love him, he doesn't understand wtf they're trying to do

Autistic. He doesn't understand a lot of jokes and social cues. He gets overstimulated sometimes. He has a happy stim where he doesn't flap his whole hand, just his fingers. He has a nervous stim where he grabs something or tightens his hand into a fist and squeezes. He has bled a few times from his fingernails digging into his palms from this. 

Has some internalized homophobia and ableism due to MvK >:(

Fav musical is Phantom of the Opera 

He uses Earl Grey and lavender scented cleaning products and has an extensive hair care routine. 

On that note, his hair is soft asf and Phoenix loves to pet it

Miles is an lgbtq+ icon in Japanifornia. He's a prominent political figure who is openly gay (stealth trans for a while) and he advocates for lgbtq+ rights

He is English and Japanese

He knows English, Japanese, German, French, and Borginian (after aai). He knows at least a little bit of every European language

Plays violin, flute, cello, piano

He is starved for affection (both physical and otherwise)

He hates being touched unless he completely trusts the person touching him

Hates hospitals because of DL6 when he woke up in a hospital (and because of a few sui attempts)

Is a huge cat person, but owns Pess because she’s trained to help him with panic attacks

Favorite food is German cheesecake, likes sweets a lot

Wears gay little garter socks, sleeps in silk pjs

Character development questions:

What does his bedroom look like?

Fancy queen bed with a canopy thing. Burgundy and pink bedspread with plushies secretly stashed in the closet. Has a desk with a whiteboard in front of it. Uses the whiteboard for case notes like those connection boards in police departments. Has a clean mahogany desk with a fountain pen, laptop, tasteful lamp, and legal pad on it. Post-it notes EVERYWHERE.

Any daily rituals?

Has tea at 4pm every day without fail. Gets upset if he is interrupted. Tells Phoenix how his day went every day when asked. Tends to work overtime.

Cleanliness habits?

Very clean. Has a maid when he lives alone and has Gumshoe clean his office biweekly. Once he moves in with Phoenix and Trucy, he ends up cleaning the house frequently.

Eating habits/daily menu?

Tends to skip meals, both accidentally and sometimes purposefully. Has lunch with Phoenix whenever possible. Has tea frequently. Earl gray. Likes sweets and has butterscotch on his desk and in his bag. He eats it occasionally.

Fav way to waste time?

Watching Steel Samurai, writing poetry and fanfiction, listening to music

Book genre?

Psychological horror, the DSM5, gay romance, likes stories set in Victorian era and psychology related books

Long term goal?

Use his influence to make the law as effective as possible and get justice for victims of crimes by punishing criminals

Fav beverage?

Tea. hands down. He also loves virgin strawberry daiquiris 

Coping strategies?

Self-harm (before he tries to recover). Once he marries Phoenix, he becomes comfortable going to him for help. He listens to music and watches Steel Samurai to distract himself. Has his blue cat plush that he uses to self-soothe.

Pet peeves?

Liars, slow drivers, slow walkers, has an unnatural and extreme burning hatred for child abusers/bad parents, incompetent people.

What is in his pockets?

Ornate Swiss pocket knife, fountain pen, mini packet of wet wipes, monogrammed handkerchief.

Phoenix

Full name: Phoenix Ryuichi Wright

Gender: genderqueer, he/him

Appearance hcs: 

Heterochromiaaaaa! Right eye is brown, left eye is blue

Big puppy eyes

He's pretty tan due to his partial latino heritage

He has a scar on his lip, scars on his hands, and many scars in his mouth from the glass necklace shards

He has a scar on his cheek and hand (very deep scars) from a squabble with Kris 

He has large burn scars on his side (where his kidney would be ig) from MvK’s taser

He has many scars from falling off of Dusky Bridge. Some are cuts and some are burns

He’s a chubby guy naturally. He is pretty self-conscious about it and about the fact that it makes him look more feminine.

General hcs:

Adhd. he chews his pen and bobs his leg as stims.

He has really bad abandonment issues due to his mother leaving as well as Dahlia’s betrayal and Miles’ leaving him twice

when he was around 11 his mom just dropped him at a foster center or smth and left (because she was struggling with addictions and didn't want her child to grow up in that environment and she was a single mother so she had nobody to take care of Phoenix) Phoenix grew up as a stealth transmasc in foster homes without any permanent family until he was out of the foster system at 18 and lived in a dorm

Trans. has had top surgery since he was 20. Started T at the age of 21 and got bottom surgery while studying to take the bar at 23. Mia helped him through recovering from both surgeries and she was very supportive.

His hair is naturally spiky but he gels it to make it EVEN MORE SPIKY

During 7yg he becomes an alcoholic (partially due to Kristoph’s influence) 

His alcoholism reminds him of his mother so he feels horrible about it and tries his hardest to keep it from Trucy

He has trauma from Dahlia and Kris. sometimes he can't take meds or eat certain foods because it reminds him of past trauma

Phoenix downplays his trauma or feels like it's his fault for trusting Kris/Dahlia cuz he's surrounded by people who have "worse" trauma and he's like 'oh well my parent didn't get murdered in front of me. my trauma is nothing compared to Athena or Miles' he never wants to talk about his own trauma because he feels like its invalid so he just never tells anyone and pretends its fine

He is latino and Japanese mainly (perhaps also greek teehee)

He knows English, Spanish (not as well and EG tho), and a little bit of Japanese

Can actually play piano

Love languages are touch and words of affirmation

After 7yg, he is really paranoid for a solid year or so due to Kristoph

He hates hospitals because he had to be hospitalized after Dahlia’s trial for about a month for healing his throat and stomach as well as for psychological evaluations

Wears random socks, half of the time colorful. Sleeps in boxers and a t shirt

Uses Axe body spray when 14-33, uses coconut old spice once he gets his badge back

Character development questions:

What does his bedroom look like?

Pretty messy. Clothes everywhere, a few plushies, a desk in the corner with a corkboard in front of it. He puts random files, pictures, notes, etc. on it and has some on parts of his wall. Nothing fancy. Just below a queen size bed with two pillows and a blue blanket. 

Any daily rituals?

After 7yg, he checks if the door is locked twice when he comes in the house or leaves. Always says hi and bye to Trucy as well. Always asks Trucy and Miles how their days were over dinner. 

Cleanliness habits?

He sometimes gets bursts of energy to clean. Usually tries to clean up right after he gets something messy, but forgets a lot and doesn’t clean up his dirty clothes very often. Just below average hygiene and cleanliness.

Eating habits/daily menu?

Doesn’t like to eat crunchy stuff much, but makes an exception for always getting crunchy shell tacos. He usually has an average breakfast (bagel, cereal, bacon). Meets up with Miles to have lunch whenever possible (partially to make sure Miles eats). They usually go to a casual restaurant, eat lunch for an hour or so, and then get back to their jobs. Miles, Phoenix, and Trucy all take turns making/helping to make dinner. They eat out about once a week. Sometimes to celebrate winning a case.

Fav way to waste time?

He likes drawing, annoying Miles, sleeping, and watching those dramatic stupid shows like Dance Moms and The Bachelorette.

Book genre?

He doesn’t like to read. Doesn’t have the attention span for it. But he loves comics and manga. Particularly enjoys medieval setting fictional adventure stories that have a happy ending. Occasionally reads cheesy romance novels to laugh at it.

Long term goal?

His goal in life is to be needed and remembered. He wants to help others and be remembered as a light in their lives. He wants to make a significant positive impact on the lives of the people around him.

Fav beverage?

He likes sweet tea, cream soda, and plain ol’ water the best

Coping strategies?

He tends to ramble and vent to the people he’s close to (Maya, Miles, Larry sometimes) but also tries to push them away somewhat and neglects talking to them as much as he needs to because he’s afraid he’s being annoying or clingy. He ends up pretending it’s fine even though it’s not.

Pet peeves?

People judging others, bullying, people being inconsiderate or ignorant of the needs of others, liars.

What is in his pockets?

Random trash, gum, phone, wired earbuds from a gas station, probably some random 30 cent pen.

[steddieasitgoes]

@steddiemas Day 12 Prompt: Hallmark Movie Tropes

Tags: Pre-Relationship, Dual POV, Getting Trapped In A Small Town, Stobin Owns A B&B, Rockstar Eddie Munson, Inspired By Hallmark Christmas Movies, Meet Cute,

wc: 3188 | Rating: G

Read on ao3 | ao3 collection

Eddie doesn’t know how luck works, but he’s pretty sure he’s used up his lifetime allotment.

It’s the only way he can explain the last 72 hours without launching himself into a multi-day meltdown. Honestly, who the fuck did he piss off? How did he go from landing in New York after the biggest and most successful Corroded Coffin world tour yet, only to be thrust into the nearest recording studio because somehow the entire third album they recorded on the road is, ironically, corroded and unable to be played?

Eddie and the rest of the guys holed up in that dimly lit studio for 48 hours recreating only half the magic they’d manage to create on the road. If he’s straight with himself, he’s not even sure the songs they churned out are even close to the original. It would be easy to go back and check if he had his trusty laptop and notebook full of lyrics and chords and the like. Unfortunately, they’re a victim of his bad luck too — having been left and lost on the bus ride from the airport to the secluded studio in upstate New York. after their private car no-showed.

Naively, Eddie had thought nothing could get any worse when they finally saw daylight and handed over the second draft of their third album. But then disaster struck again in the form of a blown engine and a fucking snowstorm to end all snowstorms that has him stranded, alone, and cold in middle of nowhere New York.

All he wants is to get home to Wayne and drink his sorrows away with the famous Munson spiked hot chocolate, but no. Life has other plans for him, apparently.

Fresh off the Australian leg of the tour where the sun was shining, Eddie’s not dressed or prepared for this winter weather. Already shivering in the dead van, he bundles himself up in his leather jacket and ratty blanket he hasn’t washed in god-knows how many years and gets to walking.

On one hand, the fact that the snow is still falling is a massive pain in the ass. Eddie’s boots are quickly filling up with liquid and he’s pretty sure his face is going to be frozen if he has to stay out here for more than five minutes. On the other hand, the bright white shines in the evening light, making it so that he’s not tricking through bumfuck New York in the pitch black.

Unfortunately, there’s no pay phone in sight (his cell went dead hours ago) and most of the small shops Eddie passes on his trudge through town have their lights shut off and doors locked. He’s about to cut his losses and accept the fact he’s going to be sleeping (and dying) in his van when he spots a sign for a Bed and Breakfast up ahead.

Eddie’s senses are flooded the minute he pushes the heavy, Victorian-style door open. The air wafts over him like a warm blanket, heating up his frozen fingers and nose in a way that would make him cry if he could even produce tears right now. There’s a cacophony of noise coming from a nearby room — a piano and singing, plus tons of laughter. And don’t even get him started on the smell. Pine and apple cinnamon, hints of vanilla, maybe even fresh gingerbread. His stomach growls on cue.

There’s a small desk stationed in the center of the foyer, a golden bell sits beside a foot-tall Christmas tree decorated to the nines. A small welcome plaque sits in front of it. Brushing off his soaking shoes on the festive welcome rug, Eddie makes his way to the desk and rings the bell.

A second or two later, a similarly aged man appears. A Santa hat sits askew on his head, cheeks flushed from the warmth inside, and a smile so bright he’s pretty sure it could be used as a homing beacon. He’s beautiful.

“Hi there,” the man greets, mossing his way over to the desk. “Welcome to Buckington B&B. How can I help you?”

🎄 🏠 🎄🎄 🏠 🎄🎄 🏠 🎄

“Robs,” Steve whisper shouts, pushing his way past the swinging doors that separate the dining room from their private kitchen. He tries again, a little louder this time but still nothing. He can hear the piano in the other room, the hoard of guests singing along to whatever Christmas song is being plucked out by the five-year-old piano genius on vacation with her parents.

“Robin!” he shouts louder this time, pocking his head out into the backyard that’s currently two feet deep in powder, fresh snow. “Dammit, Robin. Where are you?”

“What’s all the yelling for?” she asks, appearing behind him.

“There’s a guy out front looking for a place to stay. Says his car broke down like a block or two away.”

“Okay, well, that sucks for him, majorly. But we’re already at capacity. You’re going to have to tell him to try Elaine’s or something.”

Steve knows Robin is right. They’re already at max capacity. Max-max capacity if he wants to get technical considering he gave up his room yesterday to the newlyweds who got stranded trying to get to the airport. It’s just well… Well, Steve’s always had a thing for unlucky people, especially when they’ve got a pretty face and a warm smile.

“See, the thing is,” he pauses, scratching nervously at his chin while trying to avoid Robin’s steadfast gaze. “I sort of already told him he could stay.”

“Steve!” Robin scolds, rolling her eyes. “We have no room!”

“I mean, yeah, you’re right. We don’t technically have any visitor rooms left. But, we still have your room.”

“Absolutely not,” she growls, crossing her arms. “No. Not gonna happen. I can’t believe you’re even asking me to give up my personal bed to a stranger! Nope.”

“Oh, come on, Robs!” Steve groans, throwing his hands on her shoulders to stop her vicious shaking. “Remember two summers ago when you made me give up my room for those best friends who fought the entire trip? You know the one you ended up hooking up with? I didn’t complain once!”

“That was different.”

Steve snorts, shaking his head. Definitely not different, but he’s not going to get what he wants if he argues with Robin. It’s not how their friendship turned business partnership works. “You owe me. I never cashed it on it, but now I am.”

Robin huffs and Steve knows she’s mentally stomping her foot like a child. If they weren’t overflowing with paying guests, he knows he’d be getting a long-winded lecture right now.

“Fine.”

He doesn’t wait to hear the list of conditions he knows Robin is going to have. She can’t even call him rude when he rushes out. After all, a freezing cold guest is waiting to be taken care of in the lobby.

🎄 🏠 🎄🎄 🏠 🎄🎄 🏠 🎄

It’s been a long time since Eddie’s been in a quirky room like the one he’s ushered into by Steve’s warm touch. Gone are the days of sleeping in motels on the side of the road on good nights, and shoved into the back of the van between equipment on bad days. Corroded’s management loves to book them the swankiest of hotels. Always looking for ways to send the label a massive bill — one that always ends up coming out of their own paychecks.

If it was up to Eddie, they’d be staying in places like this instead of the godawful monochromatic luxury prisons they get shoved into night after night. As an artist, he doesn’t get a say though. At least, that’s what he’s been told.

Glancing around, he takes in the bright-colored wallpaper. The dresser is cluttered with frames and other tchotchkes. A burnt orange rug takes up most of the floor and there’s an overflowing box of records perched in the corner by a small record player.

Eddie knows this isn’t a normal guest room — Steve had told him as much while guiding him up the stairs — and yet, he feels more at home in this quirky room than he has in months. Probably since the last time he visited Wayne.

Shit. He needs to call Wayne.

That unlucky string rears its head again as Eddie is met with dead silence when he picks up the pale blue landline. Of fucking course the phone lines would be down. The snow is dropping in sheets now. The telephone poles didn’t stand a chance.

At least he was lucky enough to land a place to sleep tonight, now all he needs is a —

“Hi, sorry to bother,” Steve says, pocking his head in. “I noticed you didn’t have any luggage with you when you checked in. It’s probably best to get out of those wet clothes. Hopefully, these will do.”

Eddie watches as Steve enters the room with a stack of clothes in hand. A pair of jeans and sweatpants sits at the bottom. Various shirts and sweaters stacked neatly on top. He’s pretty sure he spots a fluffy pair of socks at the top of the pile too. He might cry at the generous hospitality. After all, it’s a bed and breakfast not a fucking clothing store which means the clothes folded neatly must belong to Steve.

“You can leave the wet clothes outside the door when you’re done and me or Robin will come get them and throw them in the wash for you,” Steve says, setting the stack of clothes down. Then he’s moving again, hand reaching behind him before pulling out a laminated piece of paper from his back pocket. “I also brought you our itinerary for the evening. There are a few activities and tonight’s dinner menu. No pressure to join us. We also deliver food to rooms.”

“Damn,” Eddie whistles, glancing at the itinerary. “You guys really know how to take care of people around here, don’t you?”

“We try our best,” Steve smiles. “If you need anything else, just give us a shout.”

🎄 🏠 🎄🎄 🏠 🎄🎄 🏠 🎄

Steve doesn’t expect to see Eddie for the rest of the night. Especially not after a freakout from one of the teenagers vacationing tips him off on just who he’s agreed to let stay in Robin’s bedroom. He knew Eddie looked familiar. Wait until he tells Dustin about this — the shithead is going to be so mad he passed up a Christmas at Buckington B&B with Eddie Munson for some cruise.

Color him pleasantly surprised when he walks into the main room a few hours later to find Eddie behind the keys of the baby grand piano. The excited teenager from earlier sits to his left, a few of the ladies circle the edge of the piano as they wait for their cue to start singing “Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas.”

He’s caught in a trance, watching Eddie in the soft maroon sweater he’s borrowed from Steve professionally stroke the keys of the piano. It only gets worse when he starts singing himself. Rich baritone cutting through the breathy singing of the ladies, carrying the tune in a way Steve’s never heard before.

Usually, Steve hates Christmas carols, but maybe he’s just never heard them sung right before.

He’s the first to break into applause when the song ends. Hands coming together before he even registers he’s the one responsible for the thundering noise. Thankfully, he’s quickly joined by the rest of the guests of the B&B. It makes the embarrassment wane inside for a moment until his eyes scan the room and discover that Eddie’s only looking at him.

“Well, then,” Robin says, sauntering over to him from the kitchen. “Now I see why you couldn’t turn him away.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he says and deliberately looks anywhere but in the direction of Eddie and the grand baby piano. Not that it really matters. He can feel Eddie’s warm gaze on him without even looking.

Robin hums, shaking her head. “Sure you don’t.”

“I don’t!”

“Just remember that he’s staying in my bed and payback is one of the only dishes I know how to serve,” she says, winking before she’s whisked away by one of the young children looking for a game to play.

🎄 🏠 🎄🎄 🏠 🎄🎄 🏠 🎄

The quiet of the early morning should be a welcome reprieve from the cacophony of sound from last night. He had started as a gentle observer in the celebration, but when the young child holding court at the piano was sent to bed, well, Eddie stepped up as the piano player of the evening. It wasn’t long before he had everyone putting a rock and roll twist on those stuffy Christmas carols.

Maybe Corroded Coffin’s fourth album should be a holiday one.

Drinks were poured and ready before he even had to ask and his stomach was treated to a delicious spread of meats and cheese. The gooiest brownies he’s ever experienced and a perfect Gingerbread recipe that would have put his Nana to shame.

It was nice. Existing with others. Reminding himself that life doesn’t always have to be moving at 100 miles an hour like it does when he’s on tour. Sure, he still wished he was home with Wayne, but a call to his uncle when the phone lines came back washed away any of the guilt he felt.

Now, though, alone in his room as the sun begins to rise over the mountains of snow outside. Well, now, he feels that same sense of restlessness he always feels when he’s in one place for too long.

Sliding into a pair of slippers Steve dropped off last night, Eddie carefully pulls open the door and sticks his head out into the hallway. It’s quiet aside from a few muffled snores coming from down the hall. With the coast clear, Eddie tip-toes his way down the hall and to the stairs.

He didn’t get a formal tour when he arrived, but he’s pretty sure Steve mentioned something about a stocked coffee bar on the first floor that was available to them whenever they needed. The first two doors he opens reveal a closet and a bathroom and a wrong turn has him standing amongst cluttered laundry. Not ready to give up, Eddie pushes his way through a swinging door and finds himself face-to-face with Steve himself.

“Oh, hi,” Steve says, voice thick with sleep though his appearance makes it look like he’s been up for hours.

He’s in a yellow sweater and jeans. Hair tousled in a way that definitely doesn’t look like he just rolled out of bed like that. His eyes are bright and shining, just like they were last night. Eddie really has to squint to notice the subtle bags under Steve’s eyes.

“Shit, sorry. M’not supposed to be here, am I?” Eddie asks as he looks around the room. It’s a standard kitchen, except for the two pale yellow fridges that take up an entire wall. A window hangs over the sink just like it does at his uncle’s place and he’s pretty sure they have the same green stove too.

“You’re not,” Steve smiles. “But it’s okay. Robin’s not up yet and I don’t mind the company. Can I get you a cup of coffee? Orange juice? Hot chocolate?”

“Are you sure you’re not running a coffee bar here instead of a bed and breakfast?” Eddie teases, leaning against the kitchen island. “Hot chocolate sounds delightful, thanks.”

“We strive too please,” Steve says before fumbling through the cabinets for a mug. “So, what has you awake at this hour? Was the room not to your standard?”

“The room is great! I’m honestly just not used to the quiet,” Eddie says, eyes trained on Steve as he flits around the kitchen preparing their drinks. It’s weird to find someone so attractive when they’re doing nothing out of the ordinary. But he can’t help it. Steve is beautiful in a way Eddie can’t really comprehend. “What about you? Are you always an early riser?”

“Robin and I usually take turns on the morning shit. Technically it’s her turn, but I told her I’d handle it,” he pauses, shaking his head as he looks out the kitchen window to the snow-covered backyard. “Definitely regretting it now. There’s no way m’shoveling all that snow today.”

Pushing up from the island, Eddie crosses the small distance and joins Steve at the window. Steve isn’t exaggerating in the slightest. The entire yard is covered in at least three feet of snow. Some parts even deeper judging by the absence of a fence he knows should be there.

“Guess m’staying another night.”

Steve hums, sidestepping away from Eddie to finish making the hot chocolate. When he turns back around, his cheeks are the slightest bit pink and Eddie can’t help but wonder if it was the steam of the hot chocolates doing or his own words.

“One cup of hot chocolate,” Steve says, handing him a pipping hot mug.

It’s decent. Not legendary like last night's brownies, but then again hot chocolate never is. Nothing ever stands up to the famous Munson spiked hot chocolate. There’s too much chocolate and not enough milk. And it’s severely lacking in the alcohol department. Though, he supposes, five am is a bit too early for liquor.

It would be easy to ask Steve for a shot of whisky to add, he knows they’ve got a stocked bar around here somewhere judging by last night's festivities. But he’s not about to impose more. Nor does he want to risk giving away his and Wayne’s hot chocolate secrets. At least, not to a guy he’s known for less than 24 hours. No matter how cute he is.

“So, Eddie, where were you headed before you got trapped here?”

“Well, I don’t know that I’d call it trapped,” Eddie says, hiding his smile behind the mug. “I actually think this is the nicest place I’ve stayed in a long time.”

🎄 🏠 🎄🎄 🏠 🎄🎄 🏠 🎄

Steve’s never been one to believe in luck.

He got dealt a shitty card right out of the gate, born to parents who could provide for him financially but never emotionally. Throw in falling into the wrong crowd and struggling through school, and well, Steve’s the poster child for privileged unluckiness.

Some might say luck found him in the form of Robin, but he thinks that a copout. Luck had nothing to do with bringing them together, nor did it have anything to do with the success they’ve found. That was all them. Blood, sweat, and tears.

Wishing on stars and believing in luck only happened in fairytales.

At least, that’s what he’s always told himself.

But now, standing in the kitchen listening to Eddie ramble on and on and on about how great the bed and breakfast is without ever breaking eye contact with him.

Well, maybe luck has finally found its way to him in the form of one stranded rockstar.

[burningablaze]

Hawks x Reader - Playing Around

A/N: An anonymous requested this a while ago and I’m finally happy it’s done 😮‍💨

Summary: You love being tickled by Hawks but the problem is your too shy to ask him so you came up with a cute way to get his attention

Ler: Hawks

Lee: Reader

Words: 908

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Hawks was working on his laptop out in the living room while you were in the bedroom, lying on the bed like a starfish. You were bored, but your lee mood was beginning to frustrate you. You wanted Hawks to tickle you, but you have no way of knowing how to get his attention. Plus, you didn’t want to interrupt whatever he was doing.

‘Maybe he could use a break, right? I guess it wouldn’t hurt.’ You thought. You sighed and grabbed your phone, shooting him a quick text.

Me: Hey baby, could you come in the bedroom for a sec, please?

Hawks had his laptop on his lap, trying to look through some work and his phone off to the side of his thigh. His phone lit up and dinged with a text. He grabbed his phone and looked at your message.

Hawks: Sure, love bird. I’ll be right there.

After he sent a reply, he took his laptop off his lap and placed it on the coffee table. He got up from the couch and started walking toward the bedroom.

“Did you need help with something?” Hawks asked after he entered the bedroom, but it turns out you were nowhere to be found. He did notice a strange lump underneath the sheets. He smirked and slowly made his way toward the bed.

“Where could Y/N be? I could have sworn that I had left them right here on this bed. Where would they go?” Hawks teased, and you tried your hardest not to laugh.

“Hold on a sec. There’s a big ole bump in the middle of the bed. Hmm, I wonder,” He gave the “bump” a poke. You twitched slightly and squealed in your hands as Hawks unintentionally poked your side.

“Huh, the bump moved. What if I poke again?” He poked your side again, getting the same reaction. “Aha! I knew it! Y/N, you’re so silly!”

Hawks laughed as he pulled the sheets off of you. “Hey! I found you!” He exclaimed with a huge grin on his face.

“What are you doing under the sheets, silly?” He asked with a smirk. You could feel your face heat up as you tried to explain yourself. “I was just trying to hide,” You replied, avoiding his gaze. “Well, it didn’t work, so I guess now you have to face the consequences,” Hawks said, his eyes twinkling mischievously. “What consequences?” You asked warily. “A tickle attack, of course!” He declared, wiggling his fingers.

You squealed loudly as he flopped himself on top of you and kneaded your sides. You shrieked and squirmed, trying to get away. But his fingers were relentless, finding every sensitive spot on your body and sending you into a fit of laughter. You tried to dodge him, but he managed to grab hold of you, and his fingers kept moving up and down your sides, hitting all your most ticklish spots.

“Hahahahahahahawks! No, no, nohohohoho!” You exclaimed between fits of laughter. Hawks smiled, amused by your reaction. “What’s wrong, my turtledove?” He teased. “It tickles!” You replied, still giggling. "It does? Hmm, if I remember correctly, it's exactly what you wanted," he said, continuing to tickle your sides and enjoying watching you squirm.

“Ahahahahahahahahahahahaha!” “Oh wait, I have an idea!” Hawks smiled as he sat up and pulled you onto his lap, and grabbed hold of your arms. “Ladies and gentlemen, I will now play for you, Rondo Alla Turca!” He cleared his throat and raised his other free hand over your belly. You squealed and wiggled from anticipation.

Then he started to sing Mozart’s song while letting his fingers play your stomach as a piano, sending you into a laughing frenzy. “Hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha! Hahahahahahawks! It tihihihickles! Ahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha!”

You squirmed and giggled, trying to free yourself from his grip, but he held you tightly. “Well, I can’t have you getting away now, can I?” Hawks said in a playful tone. “Stohohohohop!”

“What else can I do? Hmm, oh, I know.” Hawks immediately stopped tickling you and made beeping noises. “Beep boop boop beep, recalculating, brr, brr, brr, new introductions, blow raspberries on Y/N’s tummy!”

Your eyes widened, and you crawled as quickly as you could to get away, but Hawks pulled you by your ankles. “Oh no, you don't!” Hawks said with a playful grin, lifting your shirt up and blowing a few raspberries.

You shrieked loudly as he blew one huge raspberry and nuzzled his face side to side; his faint stubble made the tickling sensation worse.

“AAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA DON’T DO THAHAHAHAT! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!”

"Come on, Y/N, you can take it," Hawks teased and blew on your belly again. You used whatever strength you had left and tried to push his shoulders away. “EEEEEE! GET AWAYEHEHEHEHEHE! AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!”

“Hang on; I’m not done yet!” Hawks took another breath, and before he could deliver another raspberry, you tried to stop him. “No, no, no! No blowing raspberrieEEEEEHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA STAHAHAHAHAHAP! IT TIHIHICKLES TOO MUHUHUHUCH! AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!”

He stopped after two raspberries, and you just lay there, exhausted from laughing. “That was fun,” Hawks said with a satisfied smile. “I guess, if trying not to die,” You replied, smiling back at him.

He grabbed your wrists and pulled you up just to put you in a hug. “You thought you could hide from me, huh? I can always find you.” He joked and buried his face in the crook of your neck. You scrunched your shoulders and giggled. “Stohohohop! Ehehehehehehehe!”

[hyunlixsbbygirl]

♡︎ Studio Secrets

That time when a day in the studio proves to be more than just recording some vocals and playing around with track curation.

──❥ pairing: chan x hyunjin x felix

──❥ length: 4.5k

──❥ warnings: 18+, idol au, smut, threesome, friends to lovers

──❥ note: the characters don't represent real idols; this is a work of fiction intended for entertainment purposes only. this in no way represents nor reflects real life. this work has been cross posted to ao3 under the username thishippiekid.

© hyunlixbbygirl do not copy, translate or repost my works

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"That sounds great Lix, I personally would add a little more bass in the chorus but not too much, you don't want it to overpower the chorus but you don't want it to be too soft either," Chan instructed as he watched the younger Aussie's fingers glide over the soundboard. The two had been in Chan's studio for the better half of three hours, just mixing sounds together and coming up with lyrics for Felix's next solo. 

"I think I want there to be some groans and moans in the back during the second chorus, what do you think?" Chan thinks for a moment, trying to figure out how it'll sound in his head. "I think it'll sound amazing. Do we need to record them or do you want to cycle through the ones 3racha recorded?" Felix opens up the folder on Chan's laptop marked 3racha other vocals and scrolls through the sound clips. 

"I honestly have no idea..." Felix replied, not fully paying attention to what Chan was saying. The sound of the passcode being entered grabbed both boys' attention as they turned toward the door to see Hyunjin slip into the studio with his backpack flung securely over one shoulder. "Hey guys, I figured you'd still be here. How's the song coming along?" he asked as he dropped his backpack on the floor near the couch opposite the two. 

"It's coming along great, Lix really is learning fast. We might need to add him to the producer group." Chan beams, he really is very proud of his soulmate. "He's thinking about adding in some groans or moans into the backing for the second chorus, what do you think? Who's groans or moans should we use? I have Jisung's, Changbins, mine, and surprisingly some of yours too." Chan says as he takes over scrolling through the sound clips. 

"Shouldn't you use Lix's? It's his song, after all, the groans should come from him." Felix blushes at Hyunjin's suggestion and lets out a nervous cough. "We could! You wanna try recording some Lix? You don't have to but imagine what Stays will be saying when they realize the groans in the song are you. They'll go absolutely feral." Chan starts as he pulls the microphone from the piano nearby and sets it up in front of the youngest member. 

Felix feels his cheeks heat up in embarrassment, "I uh... how do you even... wait what?" Hyunjin chuckles at the cuteness of the younger being so shy. "It's really easy Lix, for the groans Jisung and I tend to like pull each other's hair or kick each other. Sounds barbaric I know but... actually never mind it's exactly what it sounds like but it produces great results." Chan continues as he plugs the microphone into the laptop.

"I'd rather not have my hair pulled or be kicked, can't I just like... fake it?" Felix asks nervously. He had just gotten his hair rebleached so his scalp was understandably sensitive right now and knowing how strong Chan was, even if he tried to kick lightly, it still would hurt. "You can always use my clips Lix, I bet we sound similar anyway. Stays might not even notice that it's not you." Hyunjin says as he walks over to the other two. 

"Let me listen to your clips first and then I'll decide if we need to record them or not, but, I do think you're right. If anyone, you probably sound the most similar to me in terms of random noises." Felix replies as he starts scrolling through the audio clips looking for the ones marked Hyunjin specifically. To his surprise, Chan had at least 20 clips of just Hyunjin moaning and groaning. He clicked on the first clip and immediately the sound of Hyunjin moaning filled the room. 

"Jesus Hyunnie." Felix breathed out, his cheeks dusting with a light pink blush as the lewd sounds echoed in his ears. "Oh yeah, Hyunjin probably has the best moans out of us all. I only got to use them once because they're so seductive sounding." Chan smiles as he pats Hyunjin on the shoulder. Felix hit the space bar to pause the clip when the moans began to become louder and almost needy. "How the hell did you record these?"

Hyunjin smirks and gives Chan a quick glance; "We have our ways." he replies simply. Felix shakes his head deciding he really doesn't want to know the truth behind these moans as he plays the clip again. "Hmm, this one sounds too... erotic." Chan decides halfway through the clip. "The song is more... powerful rather than sexy. At least according to the lyrics we have so far." the older continues as he looks at the dates next to each clip trying to recall what they sound like. 

Chan clicks on another clip and once again the room is filled with the lewd sounds of Hyunjin moaning; this time a little softer with more air to the moans. "Ooh, I like this one," Hyunjin mentions as he leans over Felix slightly. "I don't know... he actually doesn't sound all that much like me. You can tell it's Hyunjin, his voice is higher pitched than mine." Felix says with a slight pout. "Well then we have no choice, you'll have to record your own clips," Chan states as he opens up the recording application.

Felix takes a deep breath, "Okay, I'll try but this is awkward... like am I just supposed to moan?" he asks. "Basically, I mean it depends on the mood you're going for. If you want just simple moans, then just moan. Otherwise, you might need some...assistance." Hyunjin winks. Felix audibly gulps as Chan adjusts the settings on the microphone. "Okay Lix, just relax and think about... how you feel when your muscles are killing you after an intense practice." 

Felix nods and takes another deep breath before letting a small moan out. It's almost too soft for the microphone to pick up and Chan motions for him to continue but this time louder. Felix tries again but the other two can tell he's struggling to really let himself go. "Ugh this is too hard, can we listen to Jisung's clips?" the youngest asks. "If you thought my moans were too high pitched to pass off as yours, then Jisung's really won't pass." Hyunjin giggles. 

"He's right Lix, if you want them to sound like you, you have to record them yourself." Chan continues. "Can you record yourself first? Maybe I'll be able to mimic if I can see how you do it first." Felix suggests. Chan looks at Hyunjin who just shrugs; "I do need more clips of Hyunjin moaning for the danceracha unit song." Chan states as he moves the microphone closer to Hyunjin. "You have to help me again though, I'm not in the mindset for this right now," Hyunjin mentions.

Chan nods and hits record, he then moves to stand behind Hyunjin and presses his lips against the younger's neck earning a surprised expression from Felix. Hyunjin closes his eyes and focuses on the feeling of Chan's lips on his neck; the way his breath lightly sweeps across his skin and the gentle bites he begins to leave. Before Felix can fully comprehend what's going on, Hyunjin's mouth opens slightly and soft moans begin leaking out. 

Felix's eyes widen, he made it look so easy; granted Chan was helping him by seemingly turning him on. The light blush on Felix's cheeks spread to the tips of his ears and he shifted in the chair a little to adjust himself. Hyunjin gave Chan's arm a light tap and the older bit down harder earning him a louder moan that was more lewd than the previous ones they had heard earlier. Chan moved his hands from Hyunjin's back to his waist and then eventually up his torso and chest. 

Chan tapped his fingers against Hyunjin's abs before moving his fingers to the younger's nipples once Hyunjin gave him a slight nod; their silent communication surprised Felix greatly. The two were now pressed against each other; Chan biting and kissing Hyunjin's neck while his fingertips teased his nipples. The room filled with the sounds coming out of Hyunjin's mouth; soft sighs, deep moans, and high-pitched whines.

Felix felt himself getting hard in his jeans; he couldn't help it. The way Hyunjin looked with his eyes closed and lips parted as moan after moan spilled from his plump lips. His hands found their way to Chan's waist behind him, holding him as close to his back as possible; it was pretty pornographic from Felix's point of view. Hyunjin tapped twice on Chan's arm and he ceased his actions immediately, hitting the stop button on the laptop and saving the file. 

"Was that long enough Channie?" Hyunjin asked a little breathily. "I think so, at least for now. I'll have to let you know if I need more once I input it into the track." Chan replies before he turns his attention to Felix again, "Okay Lix, you think you can mimic Hyunjin?" the oldest asks. Felix squirms a little but nods even though he knows he wouldn't be able to produce noises that sensual on his own. 

"Let me just listen to the clip real fast to make sure the microphone picked it up okay." Chan says as he clicks 'play' on the clip he had just saved. Hyunjin's moans began flowing into the studio once more; Felix squirmed more the tighter his jeans felt on his body. Hyunjin smirked once he noticed how Felix squirmed in the chair below him; Chan on the other hand was engrossed in silencing the sound of the air con in the clip to notice. 

Once Chan had finished and saved the clip again he turned toward Felix again and noticed that the younger had his legs squeezed together and his face was flushed. He nodded to Hyunjin who slowly spun the chair so Felix was facing him; Felix was avoiding eye contact with the two older members. Chan opened up a new audio recording window and pressed record, giving Hyunjin a thumbs up to start. 

Hyunjin knelt down so he was more level with Felix's eyes, he placed his hands on Felix's thighs to steady himself before lifting the younger's face so their eyes met. Felix's breathing was staggered and heavier than normal, his eyes were glossed over with need and his lips were slightly swollen from biting them so hard. Hyunjin bit his lower lip as he looked over the younger carefully; he had to admit that Felix looked absolutely beautiful when he was so needy. 

"You're so...pretty Lix," Hyunjin whispered causing Felix to blush even redder. The younger made a small whimpering sound as he adjusted the way he was sitting again; he was uncomfortably hard now and didn't know what to do with himself. "Let me help you..." Hyunjin continued, he placed a hand on the younger's cheek and brushed his thumb across his lips before leaning in and pressing their lips together. 

Felix made a startled sound but quickly settled into the kiss; wrapping his arms around Hyunjin's neck to hold him closer as he felt the older sliding his tongue into his mouth. Both boys let soft sighs slip from them; Chan moves the microphone slightly closer in order to capture the sounds. At first, Hyunjin just wanted to help Felix record his clips, then he wanted to help him get some relief, but now that he was kissing the younger; he wanted to make him feel amazing. 

Hyunjin slides his hands underneath Felix's hoodie finding that he's not wearing a shirt underneath, his skin is heated with desire and he can feel his ab muscles tighten when he lightly traces his fingertips over them. Felix moans softly at the older's touch, his back slightly arching off the chair as Hyunjin slides the hoodie up his torso and eventually breaking the kiss to pull it off of him completely. 

Felix shivers lightly at the cool air hitting his heated body but he soon is distracted from the sensation when Hyunjin kisses him again; his fingertips now tracing over his collarbones and down towards his nipples. Chan moves to stand behind Felix and bends down so he can place little kisses on his neck causing Felix to let out a slightly louder moan to escape his lips. The older smiles against the younger's heated skin; the sounds the younger was making were pure gold. 

"Does little Lix need his hyungs to relieve him?" Chan nearly growls into his ear, Felix arches his back as Hyunjin licks over his nipples causing them to become hard and sensitive. The moans are flowing more naturally now as Felix is touched and kissed by his two members; his body becoming increasingly more sensitive as time goes on. Chan bites down on the area that connects the ear to the neck causing a particularly loud moan to escape the younger. 

Hyunjin moans into Felix's mouth when he feels the younger run his fingertips along his waist and abs; Hyunjin had been so focused on making Felix feel good that he didn't realize how needy he was becoming himself. His hands move from Felix's nipples; being replaced with his mouth instead as he lets his hands drop to Felix's bulge and palm him through his jeans. "Mhm...Hyunnie..." Felix moans before Chan presses his lips against his, replacing Hyunjin. 

Hyunjin unzips Felix's jeans and taps his thigh so he lifts his hips up just enough for him to slide his jeans and boxers down. The cool air hitting Felix's heated length has him whining for contact; Hyunjin has other ideas though. His mouth finds the creamy skin of Felix's thighs as he sucks and bites bruises into the pale skin causing the younger to squirm underneath his touch. Chan has his fingertips rolling over Felix's nipples as they make out with each other heavily. 

When Hyunjin starts kitty licking Felix's tip, he practically melts off the chair. His body is overly sensitive to all the touching he's receiving; he squirms under the two older member's touch as moans pour from him every few seconds. Chan pulls away from Felix, smirking when he hears the younger whine from the loss; "That's it, baby boy, let us hear you moan and groan for us." Chan tells him as he adjusts the microphone again. 

Hyunjin takes Felix completely into his mouth as he looks up at the younger through his eyelashes; Felix looks so pretty with his mouth hanging open, silent moans slipping past his plump and swollen lips, his eyes closed as his tongue rolls over his bottom lip every few seconds. "He's so pretty like this, look at our baby feeling so blissed out already just from your mouth Hyunjin." Chan nearly growls as he palms himself through his shorts. 

Hyunjin lets Felix's cock fall from his mouth as he licks his lips and looks up at Felix again; "He really is. Fuck I wish we had done this sooner so we could see this beautiful boy squirming like this much sooner than now." Chan hisses as he watches Felix reach for Hyunjin; he's extremely needy now and the lack of touches was making him cold. "Carry him to the couch, let's really make this angel of ours feel good." the older winks. 

Hyunjin does as Chan says, he lifts Felix from the chair, gripping his thighs until the younger wraps his legs around his waist. Felix sighs when he feels his cock pressed against the bulge in Hyunjin's sweatpants. The older sits down on the couch making sure Felix is fully straddling him; he then presses their lips together again. Felix slowly begins to move his hips so their cocks are rubbing against each other through the fabric. 

Hyunjin moaned into Felix's mouth as their tongues fought for dominance; Felix's hands slid underneath the older's shirt and pulled it off swiftly as he felt Chan come up behind him and do the same to his own shirt. Chan had moved the microphone so it was closer to the couch so he could get more audio from them all; he knew the sounds they were about to make were going to be incredible and if he ended up not being able to use them for new tracks, he'd always have them in his secret file for later. 

Chan pressed himself up against Felix's back and started kissing and sucking on his neck again; leaving light pink marks on his creamy skin despite knowing he shouldn't. Felix leaned back into the older and tilted his head to the side to give him as much room as possible; Hyunjin reached between them to pull his erection out of his pants and stroke them both off until it was time to take things one step further. 

Felix's moans filled the studio along with soft sighs and groans from the older two; Chan absolutely adored the way the younger's moans sounded. His voice was deep with lust but filled with so much need that he was whining while moaning at the same time. It was like music to his ears. "Need... you..." Felix moaned to neither member in particular, he didn't care which one did it, he just needed to be fucked. Now. 

"Who baby? Channie hyung or me?" Hyunjin asked as he adjusted his grip on their cocks a little. "Hyunnie..." the younger moaned after a few seconds. Chan moved away from the two and walked over to his desk, "Lay him down on the couch for me." He instructed Hyunjin as he opened up a drawer and dug around for a small bottle of lube that he kept there just in case 3racha needed extra help recording their audio clips. 

Hyunjin moved the two of them so that he could gently lay Felix on the couch on his back, the younger whining from the loss of the older. "I know baby, just be patient. We'll relieve you soon," he whispered softly as he caressed his cheek gently. Chan walks over to the couch and hands Hyunjin the bottle of lube before kneeling at Felix's side, "Spread your legs for Hyunjin okay love? He's going to prep you." the older told him, his voice barely above a whisper. 

Felix did as he was told and spread his legs for Hyunjin as the older flipped the cap open and spread some of the cool liquid onto his fingers before warming it up a bit; Chan pulled Felix towards him and pressed their lips together. The kiss was more gentle than it had been thus far, soft sighs escaping both boys as they got lost in the feeling of each other. Hyunjin rubbed the tip of his index finger against the tight ring of muscle that surrounded Felix's entrance. 

The youngest sighs deeply at the feeling, his back arching off the couch ever so slightly; carefully, Hyunjin slides his index finger inside of the smaller boy and slowly begins to finger him open. The feeling isn't completely new to Felix as he will occasionally finger himself but Hyunjin's fingers feel different; their longer and thicker, and he's able to reach the spots Felix can't on his own. After a few moments; Hyunjin slides a second finger into him, the fit is a bit tighter but it seems to be okay. 

Felix doesn't even flinch if he feels any sort of pain; he's completely lost in the bliss of not only being kissed by their leader but also of being touched by the two members he trusts the most in the most loving and passionate way. Chan moves his hand from behind Felix's neck to his nipples again; rubbing the small buds between his fingertips until they're hardened. Felix arches his back up more forcing Hyunjin to use his other hand to hold his hips down. 

"Stay still baby, I have to prep you properly so I don't hurt you," Hyunjin tells him as he continues pumping his fingers in and out of him. Felix was opening up to him so well though, he really knew how to control his body and get it to relax when needed; the older member adored this side of him. "Think you can take another finger baby boy?" Hyunjin asked. Felix nodded and grabbed Hyunjin's hand needily giving him the okay to add another finger into the mix. 

Hyunjin slowly and gently slid a third finger into Felix, holding his hand still as he stretched around his fingers and adjusted to the new size. It stung a little but overall it wasn't bad Felix only whimpered at the start but quickly started moaning again to indicate that Hyunjin could continue his transgressions. Felix's hand moved down to stroke himself needing to get some relief as Hyunjin fingered him harder once he was stretched out enough. 

Felix nearly screamed when Hyunjin's fingers brushed over that one sweet spot deep inside him; his cock twitching and his breath hitching at the same time. Chan pulled away from Felix for a moment to watch as he squirmed and moaned under Hyunjin's touch; "I think he's ready for you." Chan tells Hyunjin. Hyunjin pulls his fingers out, smirking when he hears Felix whine in protest. As Hyunjin smears lube onto his cock, Chan hovers over Felix's cock waiting for the right moment. 

Once Hyunjin is well lubricated, he teases Felix's entrance with the tip of his cock and watches as Chan kitty licks Felix sending his body into over-sensitivity mode again. The two older members have to hold him down so they can carry out their transgressions properly, each smirking as moans and sighs spill from the younger. "Hyunnie...please..." he nearly begs; he needs to cum so badly it almost hurts but he knows that when he eventually does, it's going to wash over him hard. 

Hyunjin enters Felix nice and slow; moaning as he feels the tightness around him. He has to pause a few times so he doesn't cum from the sheer tightness of Felix's entrance; it's nothing like he's ever felt before. "Fuck Lix... you're so tight. God, I could cum right now" Hyunjin grunts. Chan shakes his head at Hyunjin's words unable to believe that the younger could so easily let himself go before giving Felix the ride of his life. 

Once Hyunjin bottoms out, Chan sucks Felix's cock into his mouth as Hyunjin begins thrusting into him. The younger squirmed more than he had been this whole time feeling overwhelmed by all the sensations he was feeling. "How does that feel baby boy? Tell daddy how he makes you feel." Hyunjin tells him, Felix can only manage a few moans and sighs in response. Chan looks up at Hyunjin and questions him about the use of 'daddy'. 

Hyunjin just shrugs not wanting to explain that he's secretly been dreaming about the day he'd get to fuck Felix like this, having him whimpering and moaning under him, having him call him daddy in order to get what he wants. Hyunjin didn't think he was that kind of person but when it came to Felix; he could easily become someone different. Chan feels Felix pulsating in his mouth and eases up on the sucking wanting Hyunjin to get closer to his release before they bring Felix to his. 

"Mmmm...d-daddy... please... harder" Felix moans as Hyunjin laces their fingers together. Chan is completely shocked by how the two younger members are acting with each other, he had no idea they'd both have a daddy kink yet here they were. He'd be lying if he said it wasn't hot as hell even though he'd be a little weirded out being called daddy himself. Hyunjin happily obliges to Felix's begging and thrusts into him harder and harder. 

Felix runs his nails up and down Hyunjin's arms, his moans increasing in pitch and volume as he feels himself getting closer and closer to his release. Chan recognizes the tone and starts sucking him off again, taking him deep into his throat and swallowing around him as he moans; the vibrations from his vocal cords coursing through Felix. Hyunjin grips onto Felix's thighs so he can hit his sweet spot over and over again; he too feels his release getting closer. 

Chan begins stroking himself as he sucks hard on Felix's cock, the pulsating of the member indicating how close he was to his orgasm. "I'm gonna... c-cum... daddy... please..." Felix whines, his stomach tightening as his looming orgasm begins to rise. "Daddy too baby... cum for me. Cum into your leader's mouth, make me fill you up." Hyunjin moans out. All this dirty talk has Chan feeling on edge too though his mouth is too preoccupied to let them know that. 

With a few more thrusts and hard sucks the two older members have Felix shaking when he finally cums hard; releasing into Chan's mouth as his moans become high-pitched and breathy. "That's it baby... oh fuck," Hyunjin moans feeling Felix tighten around him. It doesn't take much longer before Hyunjin spills his release deep inside Felix with a loud grunt; Chan continues to suck Felix clean of his release as he cums all over his hand. 

It takes several minutes before Chan lets Felix's cock slide out of his mouth; his breath slows to a normal pace as he tucks himself back into his shorts. Hyunjin had laid on top of Felix once his release had stopped and Felix was still shivering; his body was completely overly sensitive. Standing up, Chan hits the stop button on his laptop to end the audio recording. He doesn't bother listening to it knowing he'll have to edit out all their talking later. 

Slowly Hyunjin pulls out of Felix and starts gathering their clothes from the floor, Felix on the other hand makes no effort to move even an inch. He's completely blissed out and just lies on the couch panting softly trying to pull himself back down to Earth. "So Chan... how do you think the recording came out?" Hyunjin asks as he steps into his sweatpants. "I'm sure it's fine, I'll have to listen to it later though - can't really spend the time on a second round." he winks. 

As Hyunjin gets himself dressed, Chan takes Felix's clothes and helps the younger get dressed. Sleep slowly threatened to take him over; "Is our baby boy tired now? Hyunjin fucked you so good didn't he?" Felix nods, "Too good...want more...too sleepy" Hyunjin chuckles. "You just came super hard and you still want more?" Chan asks as he pulls Felix into his lap and slowly rocks him from side to side. 

Felix nods but the feeling of being rocked in Chan's arms just makes him more sleepy and he eventually falls asleep on Chan's chest. "I cannot wait to hear what you recorded," Hyunjin whispers as he clicks around the laptop a bit. "What are you doing?" the older asks. "Just sending a preview of the clip to Jisung" Hyunjin replies with a sinister look on his face. In less than three minutes, Jisung opens the door with his phone in his hand and the clip pulled up on the screen. 

"How could you get Felix to moan like that without me?" He pouts. Hyunjin softly chuckles as he places his hand on the younger's shoulder, "Next time Ji, we promise." 

[yosajaeofficial]

𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝐽𝑎𝑦𝑐𝑒 𝑀𝑦𝑙𝑒𝑠 𝐶𝑜𝑚𝑖𝑐𝑠 || 𝑂𝑛 𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝑅𝑎𝑑𝑖𝑜 𝑃𝑙𝑎𝑦𝑖𝑛𝑔 (𝐿𝑎𝑣𝑒𝑙𝑎𝑡𝑡𝑒 𝑂𝑛𝑒𝑠ℎ𝑜𝑡)

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A/N: I hope you all enjoy this entry of “The Jayce Myles Comics”, we’re able to see the get a grasp of what’s to come!

Song Inspirations:

For (YOOHYEON SOLO) - Dreamcatcher

NEON - YUKIKA

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It was the late afternoon, specifically golden hour. Employees would slow down their hustle since there weren’t many customers after lunch hours; golden hour was also when employees were able to yawn and then prepare themselves to close.

Today was a slow day for the small café, “Madeline’s”, exactly how Donatello liked it to be. It was a spot where Donatello felt safe when he wanted to study by himself. It was nice for him to have his own time of relaxation outside of the lab, and for Donatello to continue his studies in a different and refreshing environment. He was able to release muscle tension while soft jazz played on the speakers; the repeated rhythms from singular piano notes pulled Donatello into a mind waltz, making his head sway.

This place was also beneficial to him as he was able to order multiple cups of coffee while never taking his eyes off of his laptop.

The café had been running for quite a while after celebrating its grand opening two months after “Fernando’s Taco Shop” had collapsed. To Donatello, it was just a minor coincidence since around that time, the poor taco shop didn’t matter to him or his brothers.

If his brothers weren’t worrying about it, neither should he. They would’ve been caught by the cops if they stayed any longer, there was simply nothing else his brothers could’ve done that night. If the police caught the Mad Dogs during their amateur days, Splinter wouldn’t ever trust them to go to the surface ever again.

During the raw aftermath, that incident did haunt him for quite a while, was there a different solution? Were they all just scared that night? Could they have stayed a little longer to help?

Most of those questions remain unsolved for the time being because those thoughts of his always eat him up during the night. Now wasn’t the time for him to feel this way.

When Madeline's opened, Donatello got curious about the café (since his best friend, April O’Neil, had worked there when it first opened but got fired for being late after barely a week).

One day, April brought some coffee for him; he usually had black coffee with one sugar packet and one singular creamer. Donatello had to be the one to manually assemble his drink. He blames Leo after witnessing his brother making him coffee but when putting the sugar and creamer in, he used his finger to stir the ingredients together.

The softshell turtle would never let Leo touch his stuff ever again since.

That day when April gave him his usual coffee order, but the cup looked different. Donatello inspected it and asked his friend with red glasses which shop she went to that morning. April explained to him that she grabbed it from Madeline’s, and she was able to take home a self-made coffee after work as a treat for her difficult shift that day. Donatello raised an eyebrow at her words and he continued to inspect the cup cautiously.

Finally shrugging, he took the sip of faith and sipped out of the cup.

His eyes had then lit up.

Donatello’s snout scrunched and his body shivered, April had got a bit worried but it was when the softshell turtle got up and yelled out, “Woah hoo hoo! That’s good!” Ever since he tried that cup of coffee, Donatello started to get his coffee from Madeline’s.

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Donatello was hanging out in the café with someone new. He never liked giving out his information to his brothers or strangers, he rather have at least one place he could go for a relaxing study session solo or with April. Donatello wasn’t the turtle to scold his brothers for being too loud, because if he did, he would absolutely be deemed as a hypocrite.

Nothing would be able to beat this exact moment for Donatello. When he was able to enjoy a late afternoon with a new study partner, Jayce Myles, they were willing to take over for April and help Donatello out with a certain blueprint concept he was stressing about.

It was nothing too out-of-the-water for Jayce, so she took the opportunity to help while they could later finish an essay after helping Donatello out with this specific project.

“Nothing’s too wrong with the model, but I am curious about how the product would work if each of these wires are bunched up like that,” Jayce voiced while pointing at a small part from the drawn blueprint. That made Donatello let out a low rumble, he then put down his pencil and covered his forehead with one big hand.

“I don’t know…” Donatello responds.

“Come on dawg, you’re smart. Try again and illustrate the model where the wires will be equally separated.”

Looking at the blueprint, Donatello took his eraser and started sketching out a different model while Jayce watched. Jayce’s eyes landed on the mutant turtle’s hands; where his grip on the pencil was odd by her standards.

They just had to know...

“Why are you gripping on that fucking pencil like that...?”

“I’M A-“ Donatello cut himself off when he saw the poor waitress wide-eyed in the corner of his eye as she was pouring another cup of coffee into his mug. Jayce snorts and starts to cackle like a Windex bottle at the softshell’s stiff stance.

”I don’t like the way you mess around with me.”

“Then stop holding the pencil like that.”

Donatello kept his mouth shut, letting out a low rumble once more. His hand would continue to illustrate animatedly. Jayce’s eyes would then get lost in his hand movements which caused them to zone out. Their gaze moved away from the hypnotizing hand and now fixated her eyes on the blueprint paper; the way the ends were slightly curled inwards always annoyed her, but she didn’t dare try to flatten it out.

On the blueprints, there were notes next to the official model which read Donatello’s calculations and equations. Jayce remembers Donatello spouting about how each side note on his blueprints mattered. They either show “how long and wide a certain metal plate would be”, or they demonstrate “an equation showing how many wires would be needed for a specific area”.

Nevertheless, Jayce snapped to their senses and jolted up after realizing they'd been staring at the sheet for too long. This caught Donatello’s attention as he accidentally crossed a calculation off.

He turned his neck, ”What was that?”

“Nothing,” Jayce responds.

Now it was Donatello's turn to laugh, but he wheezed mockingly. Besides wanting to strangle the turtle, Jayce was too tired to pay their full attention to him so she let that slide.

“Har har, laugh at me zoning out. How original and funny,” Jayce quipped.

Donatello smirked at their sour face, “It’s only funny when you do it.”

“Why?”

“You always jolt up in your seat like a scaredy-cat when you realize you’re zoned out. Hence, making it more obvious that you’ve been zoning out.” Jayce huffed, blowing raspberries and turning their gaze to his red eyes.

“You win this round asshole, but now expect me to look into your soul whenever you’re working on anything lab related alright?” Even if Jayce said that with a neutral expression, Donatello let out a genuine belly laugh. Jayce would never admit it, but hearing him enjoy her company gave them a boost of serotonin.

The two of them calmed themselves and continued to focus on the blueprint. “You got it?” Jayce uttered. Donatello cued to sit down and take a drink from his warm cup of coffee, letting Jayce peek at the model. It was definitely showing signs of improvement. The model was starting to come together more realistically; most of Donatello’s previous inventions had issues back-to-back. Those malfunctions would cue due to him blueprinting flawed models that held only a fifty percent chance of functioning correctly.

Donatello loved to make crazy-looking machines that would look pleasing to show off to other tech enthusiasts. His models looked incredible, but their performance was the big giveaway for it being a poor model. Jayce understood this, most of their side hustles have been her fixing up her teachers’ projectors, computers, and construction tools; so them seeing a flawed model even from their great genius scientist friend wasn’t surprising. Everyone was bound to make mistakes. It’s how the mistake is approached that’s going to determine if the model was meant to be scrapped or not.

Jayce scratched their nose, “Looks better Donnie,” They grinned.

“Phew! I thought you were planning my funeral for a sec.”

“The organization of the wires looks so much better than before. If they get fired up, then your hands won’t get an electric shock when doing an emergency troubleshoot.”

Jayce wiped their clammy hands on her jeans before sitting down. Looking at their school bag, Jayce remembered that they needed to finish that English assignment. Rolling her eyes, she started to dig in their bag to look for her physical copy of the assignment.

Donatello wasn’t paying attention and was downing his now cold cup of coffee.

Donatello puts his mug down, “Hmm?”

“I need to finish some schoolwork.”

Donatello then quickly rolled up the blueprints, right after he blew the eraser residue. He watched Jayce place down their chunky packet on the table and start turning the pages one by one as if she was quickly refreshing their knowledge.

Jayce clicked their tongue and started erasing one section out of page 8, and started cursing to herself. Now it was Donatello’s turn to snort.

“Get a computer! It’s painful to witness you doing your essay handwritten, I take pity on your right hand.” Jayce rolls their eyes.

“If you offer to pay it off for me, I will consider it.”

Donatello cracked up, “I can use my hard-earned money for something more useful than a lame computer model from a big corporation.”

Jayce paused, slowly turning their head to face Donatello, who was sitting right next to her. The smell of ground coffee beans and steamed milk made the café have a nostalgic atmosphere. Combining the smell and the warmth of Donatello’s laugh, it was like Jayce was enjoying a cold day with their best friend by being cuddled up together by a fluffy blanket. Even if Donatello himself was a cold-blooded reptile, Jayce couldn’t help but scoot a bit closer to him. Yearning for his warmth that can only be obtained if you’re close.

“Then how did you build your PC back at the lair?” Jayce mumbled.

“From Repo’s scrapyard or the Nakamura brand.”

“Hmmm?”

“I only put my trust in new tech parts with Nakamura, everything else stinks,” Donatello clarified.

Jayce snickered, “Does it stink as much as the sewers?”

Donatello lightly punched Jayce’s bicep, “That was one time, Jayce Myles!”

“It smelled like shit because that’s where shit goes, Donatello Hamato!” Jayce pushed him away and pouted. To Donatello, their puffed-up cheeks were a new sight. He closed his eyes and internally thanked his big brain that he had everything recorded. Jayce’s emotions were something that Donatello had recently been observing more often, nothing out of the ordinary of course, but something about Jayce felt different to him.

Donatello tried to think of the reason why he felt that way about his friend, nothing was different. Maybe it was because Jayce’s presence had started to feel more comfortable to be in. Donatello had assumed that Jayce would ruin his relaxing experience at his favorite café (hence why he had begged April to not bail out at the last minute).

However, Jayce had actually helped him out way more than he expected. Jayce explained their previous experience with tech in a simple but compelling way.

“Jeez! I could talk about coding all day man! Being able to get the program running is such a relief. I adore it when people format their code with multiple different colors. I saw this one girl that color-coded their program in purple-”

Their words were spoken with pure passion, and that’s what made Donatello let his guard down. The jazz that continued to play would continue to make his head sway, a soft melody that he was easily able to follow as he continued to stare at Jayce. Their cheeks were already depuffed and they were intensely fidgeting. She was sweating.

“Are you stuck?”

“...Yeah-” Donatello’s chair scraped against the cement floor as he got closer to Jayce’s packet. Jayce swallowed their sudden anxiety but didn’t turn her head this time. Since when was Donatello that tall compared to them? Jayce’s heart skipped a beat and they coughed.

“What are you stuck on?” He rumbles, Jayce gulps.

“In this paragraph, I spelled a word wrong. To make it worst, I wrote it with fucking red ink!” Their face was already red, but Donatello only guessed it was all from frustration.

Donatello shrugs, “This is why you should invest in a computer, four eyes.”

“I will hit you.”

“Do it froggy, leap.”

“Check yourself before saying that asshole!”

Donatello snorted, Jayce was able to feel the vibrations of his laugh by her side; her shoulders softened. They were getting the memo that Donatello just wanted to chat with her. He was enjoying himself too much, Jayce didn’t care at this point.

“April recently helped me install a printer in the lab. We can...go to the lab right now and I’ll type up the whole packet for you. After that, I...can print it all out for you so it’ll be completed for the morning.” Donatello was a bit hesitant, but his words got out eventually. His gaze was soft and shy, looking away from Jayce as much as possible.

Jayce pushed their glasses up, and she got up from her seat. Donatello sweats, he was surely worried that he scared Jayce a bit after spitting out bits of banter at her. That doubt was proven to be false as Jayce beamed with a bright smile, eyes wide and twinkling with excitement. That would be a smile that Donatello would remember fondly, it was as if Jayce’s petals had fully bloomed right in front of his eyes.

Jayce giggles, “Sure, only if you insist. I’ll buy some printer paper along the way.”

Donatello stands up as well, stretching his back where his tail wags while doing so. He starts packing up the blueprints that had been rolled up and he puts them in his bag. Grabbing his coffee mug and downing it in one gulp then placing it on the coaster. Donatello wipes his mouth with his purple hoodie sleeve, earning a snicker from four eyes right next to him.

“Gross...”

“I can leave you here to write that essay with your pathetic pencil.”

“Do it you won’t.”

Donatello snorts and then starts to ruffle Jayce’s soft brown hair.

“I’ll do it another day, the workers look like they want us to leave already.”

OH MI GOSH!!! WE’RE FINALLY DONE WITH THIS ENTRY! I hope you all enjoyed some Lavelatte content for this lovey dovey season, more will come with them in a later arc. What did you guys think? Don’t be shy to tell me your thoughts on this entry, I love reading comments. Thank you for reading and have an amazing Valentine’s Day!

[sixty-silver-wishes]

Original short story- The Door

Kelsey sat down at the table, doing her best not to wrinkle her new skirt. In front of her was a plate of food, reassuringly simple, yet just alien enough for her to approach it with trepidation- a cooked chicken breast crusted with golden-brown breading, heaped with a generous helping of parmesan cheese on top and served with a side of steamed asparagus and halved miniature potatoes. 

“To celebrate your visit, I made your favorite,” her sister Erica said, seated at the opposite end of the table with a fork in hand. “Mom’s chicken parmesan.”

“It smells delicious,” Kelsey said, and began to cut into the chicken breast with her knife, the breading crunching slowly as it gave way to the blade. It’s not Mom’s chicken parmesan, though, she thought. It’s Erica’s chicken parmesan. 

“So,” Erica said in between bites of chicken, “how has college been?”

Kelsey sighed, communicating all her sister needed to know in one exasperated breath. The knife clattered on the edge of her plate. “It’s been a lot,” she said. 

“You’re majoring in economics, right?”

“Business,” Kelsey clarified.

Erica gave her an approving nod. “Business,” she repeated, and gestured to a pitcher on the table. “Lemonade?”

“Sure,” Kelsey answered, and Erica poured her a tall glass, slender lemon slices bobbing delicately underneath a layer of finely crushed ice. “How have you been?”

Erica put a manicured finger up, signaling that she still had chicken in her mouth. She swallowed. “I’ve been good,” she finally said. “I’ve got a few gigs coming up, so I’ve been busy.”

“Right,” Kelsey nodded. “You’re still playing piano.”

“I’m booked for three weddings this week,”  Erica answered, pointing her fork towards Kelsey. “And I teach childrens’ classes on the weekends. And next week, I’m accompanying the community theatre actors for their auditions. They’re doing Les Miserables in the spring.”

“Oh,” Kelsey said. “I’ll have to come back to see it if I’m free.” She poked again at the chicken that Erica had made. It smelled like their mother’s old recipe, but the color seemed off somehow. Perhaps Erica hadn’t used all the right spices, or she’d let the chicken cook for too long, or maybe she hadn’t let it cook for long enough.

That piano should have been mine, Kelsey thought. After all, she was the one who had begged their mother to let her take lessons back when she was eight, and her younger sister, ever the copycat, had insisted on learning, too. At first, it was fun- they learned to play Christmas songs together, and even tried writing their own music. But as they grew older, Kelsey spent less and less time at the keys of the piano, and more and more time on the keys of her laptop. There was no money to be found in playing the piano, she decided. She forgot how to sight read sheet music, and grew to hate the sound of Erica practicing Beethoven and Liszt from the other room. She’d never learned to play anything by Liszt before. By the time both of them moved out, Kelsey was all too glad to let Erica take the piano with her when she’d asked for it; the old thing wouldn’t fit in her apartment, anyway, and even if she still knew how to play it, the noise would certainly annoy the neighbors. She told herself to be happy for Erica and her music career, but couldn’t shake the feeling that, if things had turned out differently, that career could be her own.

She probably isn’t making much, anyway, she thought. That’s why she has all those gigs. I feel sorry for her, really.

Erica had finished her chicken, and had started on the potatoes. Kelsey had once again put down her fork.

If Erica wasn’t making much money playing piano, she realized, her living space certainly said the opposite. The apartment was modest, but clean and well-furnished. A vase of fresh flowers stood on the table between them, and the kitchen behind them was equipped with a bar counter, where a bottle of good wine was arranged next to a bowl of fruit and a pine-scented candle. A painting of a bucolic cottage scene hung in a frame on the wall of the nearby living room, where a small gray kitten dozed on an armchair in front of a muted television set. In the living room, with a vase of flowers hung on a hook in front of it, was a white door with a brass handle.

Kelsey picked up her fork again, but seemed to forget it was in her hand as she craned her neck past Erica, trying to get a closer look at the door. She couldn’t tell what kinds of flowers were in the vase, or if they were real or fake, but she could make out an arrangement of red and yellow blooms, dotted with small blue clusters.

 At first glance, the door itself didn’t seem like much. It looked like any other door in Erica’s apartment- all were the same shade of white, and had the same round brass handles, which were about the shape and size of an orange. Four rectangular panels were carved into it, although the bottom halves of the top two were obscured by the vase of flowers. The grain of the wood, however, was what caught Kelsey’s attention. It snaked in thin, hypnotic lines around the door, running up and down in concentrated furrows along the sides. A few knots whirled in the wooden surface like ivory galaxies, circling into hurricane-shaped patterns that invited a few miniature maelstroms of chaos into the rest of Erica’s orderly house.

“Erica,” Kelsey asked, “where does that door go?”

“What door?” Erica responded.

Kelsey pointed with her fork. “That one,” she said, “with the flowers over it.”

Erica glanced behind her. Kelsey was certain she noticed the door. Then, she went back to calmly spearing a potato. 

“These need salt, don’t you think?” she asked. “Mom never wanted us putting salt on the potatoes, because she always said they were already salted. But I don’t think mine are salty enough.”

“I suppose not,” Kelsey answered, and sipped her lemonade. It was tart. Not enough sugar.

“I’m sorry,” Erica said, a note of genuine sorrow in her voice. “I wanted to make your favorite food for you.”

It was never my favorite, Kelsey thought. “Don’t worry about it,” she said, once again cutting into her chicken. “I think you did a great job.”

Erica glanced down at Kelsey’s plate, where the chicken was cut into pieces, but not yet eaten at all. “Thank you,” she said. 

Kelsey felt her stomach twist, and looked back at the door, following the whorls in the grain with her eyes. “Where does the door go?” she asked again. “It must go somewhere.”

“After we eat,” Erica said, “do you want to go out? There’s supposed to be a new bar about ten minutes from here; it’s right next to Tall Tales. You remember Tall Tales, right?”

“Yeah,” Kelsey said, her voice distant. “The used bookstore.” She blinked; the patterns in the door appeared to shift.

“You used to love Tall Tales,” Erica reminisced, with a smile on her face. “You’d always make us wait for hours there while you and Dad looked through all the books.��

Kelsey stood up, once again dropping her fork. This time, it landed on the floor with a light clatter.

“Don’t worry,” Erica said. “I’ll pick that up.” As she went around the table, reaching for the fork, Kelsey began to walk towards the door in the living room. The tiny hurricanes had eyes; she was sure of it. One of them even blinked. 

Erica took the fork to the kitchen sink to wash it, and Kelsey put a hand on the door handle, attempting to twist it open. However, it wouldn’t budge. She tried both hands, still to no avail.

“I don’t mean to rush you,” Erica said as she rinsed the fork off. “We can finish dinner first.”

Kelsey felt around the frame of the door, the grain rolling in crests and troughs under her fingertips. “Is there a key?” she asked.

Erica looked up from the sink, turning it off. The noise of the sudden cease of flowing water made Kelsey turn her head like a bloodhound on a scent, and she noticed- perhaps with satisfaction- that Erica’s face at last looked pale and panicked, hilariously out of place in her curated kitchen, with its stately wine bottles and cheerful, plump lemons arranged in cream-colored shallow bowls. The sight of her wide eyes and open mouth in her pale face, set against the orderliness of her surroundings, made Kelsey laugh.

“There’s nothing back there,” Erica said. 

Kelsey laughed again- a sharp, cruel bark. “Why would there be nothing back there?” she asked. “Apartments don’t have doors that lead to nothing.”

“It’s- it’s just storage,” Erica answered. 

Kelsey stroked the door slowly, feeling the hurricanes swirl under her fingertips. The eyes in the grain- there were definitely eyes- fixed themselves upon her with adoration, infatuation- maybe even hunger. 

Storage, she had said. 

What was the storage that Erica so adamantly kept behind this maddening piece of wood? What could Erica possibly have to store? 

That, Kelsey realized, must have been why the apartment was so infuriatingly clean- Erica must have hoarded all sorts of mess behind this door. Mess that she wouldn’t allow into the rest of her house, or into her life. Stacks upon stacks of Liszt and Scriabin, gathering dust as oversized gray mice chewed their way through the concertos and sonatas of the great masters and marked the sheet music with staccato droppings. Piles of garish theatre costumes, all rhinestones and matted wigs and tawdry lace, the bloody remains of chickens littering the floor in piles of feathers and flesh still stuck to a mountain of bones, potatoes overgrown with their tendril shoots and asparagus jutting out from the floor, pitchers of rotting lemons in piss-yellow fluid that reeked of burning pine, a filthy old wedding dress coming apart at the seams with the bride’s desiccated body sewn up inside. 

But there were other things Erica locked behind that door, certainly- things that were far more horrifying than what Kelsey knew to be there. Stacked up to the ceiling in sealed cardboard boxes, packed tight with styrofoam and bubble wrap, were all of Erica’s failures, stuffed to the brim until they were leaking out the sides. All of her insecurities, all of her heartbreak, all of the impossibilities she hadn’t been able to easily overcome were crammed in there- that was why there was no evidence of them in her house.

 And behind that door, too, was something that should have belonged to Kelsey- perhaps nestled in a beautiful music box somewhere, or in the pages of Liszt, or under the floorboards, or in the pile of chicken bones, or in the eye socket of the decaying bride, were Kelsey’s dreams. Kelsey’s success in what she’d wanted to do since the very beginning, Kelsey’s adoration from their mother, Kelsey’s vindication that she had chosen the right career path, Kelsey’s years that had been wasted away in the monotony of business classes, Kelsey’s happiness and entire life that should have been ahead of her.

“Tall Tales will be open for just another hour; we can make it if we’re ready in time…” Erica’s voice came, distant and shaky and far away. Kelsey felt a hand tap at her shoulder as she pressed herself against the door, scratching at the wood as hard as she could, hearing the hiss and screech of the eyeballs in the grain as she dug her fingernails into them. But the door wouldn’t budge, and Erica was there, right behind her…

The vase was surprisingly heavy in her hands. Kelsey yanked it off the hook on the door, feeling its weight pull down on her muscles. The flowers inside fell to the ground, spilling out around her.

“Kelsey, what are you-” Erica gasped. 

Her sister lifted the vase above her head, took a long, deep breath, and swung it about in a furious, vengeful arc.

[marshmallowprotection]

It's the holidays. Although Jumin, V, Jaehee, Yoosung and the others are taking the week off to travel to the Bahamas (courtesy of Jumin, bless his heart), they can't help but get slightly distracted over the constant typing coming from their unexpected yet now official RFA member, her back hunched slightly as she continued to type away, her fingers pressing on each key by memory, as if she was playing the piano.

Honestly, at this point, if she did use the hours she spent for her academics, she would've been an excellent pianist.

"H-Hey..." a worried smile wore Yoosung's face, "I think you need to stop for a bit, MC. We're in vacation and all..don't you think you need to enjoy it too?"

Jaehee nodded, fixing her glasses to her face as she shielded her back with a towel. Even she was a workaholic, but she never worked nor studied to the point of no sleep. You however...

You haven't stopped working on assessments, meetings, competitions, seminars and classes. Ever since you started medical school, you couldn't stop thinking. You couldn't stop working, and your body forcibly kept itself awake, its clock ticking faster than the time humans built themselves.

Although you ere opening so many doors, they knew, heck, you knew you can't simply enter all those doors at once. But you kept working anyways.

Saeyoung sighed and scratched his head, whilst his brother, who was right behind his feet, had his eyes concentrated on what you were typing. With a frustrated sigh, Saeran sat down, and patted your shoulder.

"Please...relax. For once, my flower, my dearest...my jewel. I need you to relax and just keep yourself away from your studies, just for once."

The pleads of your partner snapped you out of your concentration and made you flinch out of surprise. You were immediately brought back to earth, away from the terminologies, the research papers, the rotation plans...

Looking up the screen, you saw his eyes, teared up. He cups your cheeks and watches you slowly crumble in exhaustion from his touch. With the sunken eyes, the pale, shriveled face..you were working yourself to death and it's crushing his soul seeing you like this.

You sighed in defeat. He was right in every way and you knew, yes you knew. So as he wrapped his arms around you, you closed your laptop and hugged him back.

I...suppose relaxing for a few days shouldn't be too bad.

-P.G.O

An excellent reminder to take a break. Even if it feels like the weight of the world is on your shoulders, remember to take a breather and close your eyes on a good day. You deserve it.

[tingerines]

Pairing: Jamil x GN!Reader Genre: Fantasy, Fluff A/N: This fic is set in modern-day Japan where the NRC boys are magicless and you are the magical being. :^) I'm also today years-old when I realized I really put Ace as a side character for all of my fics.

Growing up, Jamil used to wish upon a star.

That star was always the brightest one in the night sky, yet it never seemed to stay up there for very long. But Jamil never minded that because to him, it was like that star disappeared to work on his wishes every time.

After some time, as Jamil grew older and became more preoccupied with the challenges life provided him, he stopped making wishes.

Long forgotten was the brightest star in the sky — though it continued to sparkle, watching over Jamil every night as if it was a sort of guardian angel.

He didn’t even notice that the star never left the sky anymore after he’d stopped making wishes.

That is, until one day, Jamil finally remembered the star.

It’s just past sunset on a Thursday evening when Jamil’s friend Ace comes strutting into his shared dorm room. He’s twirling a set of keys in his index finger while the other hand is shoved inside the pocket of his denim pants.

“Hey,” Ace greets as he leans against the wall next to Jamil’s desk. “Are you busy tonight?”

Jamil hums in response without taking his eyes off his laptop. He remains silent while his fingers are busy rapidly typing the last sentences to his history paper.

“Okay,” Jamil breathes out as he finally shuts off his laptop with a sharp click. He briefly rubs circles on his temple before glancing over at Ace. “What were you saying?”

“Are you free tonight? Deuce wants us to accompany him tonight for a project for his planet-something class,” Ace waves his hand dismissively in the air, the keys in his hand jingling along with the motion.

“We’re architecture majors. Why would he ask us for help?” Jamil asks as his face twists into a mixture of confusion and disgust.

“No, not help— unless he really wants to fail his class. He has to go look at some constellations or something, and he doesn’t want to do it alone. So can you come or not?”

Jamil chews on his lower lip as he thinks. He’d just finished the last assignment that’s due this week and he’s got no other plans for the weekend besides to catch up on sleep.

“Fine, I’m in,” Jamil rolls his eyes before getting up and trailing behind a much-too-giddy Ace.

He follows the male out of the dormitory to where his car is parked. In the backseat is seated a napping Deuce whose head is resting on Lilia’s shoulder. Meanwhile, Lilia is busy playing a game on his phone, and Jamil has to wonder how Deuce’s able to sleep when Lilia’s arms are shaking at 50 kilometers per hour.

“Sevens, Lilia. Could you be any more aggressive?” Ace asks once he’s situated in the driver’s seat.

“Sorry,” Lilia grins without a hint of guilt on his face. “Hey, Jamil.”

“Hey,” Jamil nods towards the older male after securing his seatbelt across his chest. “So… where are we going, exactly?”

“Shizuoka prefecture. It’s going to be quite the drive, so feel free to take a nap if you need it. I’m loaded on Red Bull too,” Ace enters the coordinates into his GPS before propping his phone up on a car phone mount.

Accompanying the monotone voice of the GPS is a playlist filled with piano covers of Studio Ghibli movies’ soundtracks.

It doesn’t take long for the gentle melodies to lull Jamil to sleep. His head gently and rhythmically taps against the cold surface of the car window as Ace cruises past the few hours’ drive to Gekko Observatory.

It feels like only a handful of minutes have passed by when Jamil is shaken awake by Ace. He groans as he stretches his arms out from his sides, his eyes blinking rapidly until his vision finally adjusts to the dark surroundings.

“We’re here?” Jamil asks, his voice still hoarse from sleep.

“Yes, we’re here. You wouldn’t wake up earlier, so I gave you an extra ten minutes,” Ace steps back and closes the car door once Jamil finally stumbles out of his seat. “Come on. Let’s go before I forget where Deuce dragged us off to.”

Jamil follows Ace as he makes his way past the main observatory buildings. They walk away from the well lit areas towards a much darker space, somewhere that allows them to see the stars in the night sky that much better.

They slowly approach a relatively large red tent set up in the middle of a grassy field. Beside it lay a still-gaming Lilia and Deuce setting up his telescope.

“Is this allowed?” Jamil asks as he plops down onto the grass next to Lilia.

“Yeah! As long as we don’t disturb the youth camp, I’m sure there’s no problem,” Deuce briefly nudges his head to the left before turning his attention back to his telescope.

Everyone sits in silence for a few minutes. For the small group of four, the silence is uncommon but it isn’t uncomfortable.

It gives them the chance to take in the fresh air and peaceful atmosphere that’s a stark contrast to life at university.

Jamil could hear crickets chirping, and it’s accompanied by the distant sound of children’s yells and laughter. The mental image of their carefree spirit brings a smile to his face without him even realizing it.

“So… what is it that you’re looking for, Deuce?” Lilia’s question cuts through the quietness first.

“Stars, Lilia. I’m looking for stars,” Deuce chuckles as he peers through the eyepiece of the telescope.

Jamil lays down onto the grass, his ears completely blocking out Lilia’s onslaught of questions for Deuce and his eyes trained on the dark night sky.

And there it was: a familiar bright twinkle in the sky.

Out of all the stars that he could see — and yes, there were many — that one shines the brightest of them all.

Then Jamil remembers that particular habit he had of wishing upon a star when he was younger. It’s been such a long time that he’d almost forgotten all about it.

But he feels certain that that star is the same star from his childhood.

A small smile plays on Jamil’s lips as he thinks back to all the wishes he’s made in the past. Most of them were silly, he was only a child after all.

His very first wish was for a plate of sushi in the middle of the night when he was only 7 years-old. It was on a night when he couldn’t fall asleep and decided to find his father who was still working in his home office.

“Dad?” Jamil whispers as he carefully opens the door and peeks into the dimly lit room.

Jamil’s father glances up from the pile of paperwork he’d been sorting through and smiles softly when he sees Jamil standing awkwardly at the entrance of his office, “hey, how long have you been standing there for? Come in, son.”

“I’m sorry… I couldn’t sleep,” Jamil scratches at the nape of his neck, a nervous habit he’d picked up on recently.

“That’s alright, I was just about done here anyways,” his father shakes his head and closes a thick manila folder shut. “How about we go out back? Maybe it’ll help you clear your head.”

“‘Clear my head’?” Jamil echoes, the curiosity clearly etched onto his face.

“Yes. Sometimes when I can’t sleep, it’s because I’m thinking too much about something. So we have to do something to help fix that,” Jamil’s father gets up from his seat and holds a hand out towards Jamil.

“Okay, what are we doing?” Jamil places his hand in his father’s much larger one and follows the man out of his home office.

They walk towards the back of the house, towards the French doors that open up to a generously spacious backyard.

Jamil and his father take a seat on one of the benches there, and for a moment, no one says anything.

But, unlike how he is today, 7 year-old Jamil cannot sit still — at least, not in silence — for very long. Not even when there’s an ensemble of crickets surrounding him.

“Dad?” Jamil pokes at his father’s shoulder, “what are we doing out here?”

“Well…” his father sighs before gazing up at the night sky. Jamil’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion before he followed his father’s gaze. “We’re stargazing.”

“Why?” the question comes out sounding a bit meaner than Jamil intended it to. He shakes his head quickly, as if to dismiss the question. “I—I’m sorry, I mean…”

His father chuckles before placing a hand on Jamil’s shoulder, “it’s okay, I understand what you meant. Have you heard about making wishes on stars?”

“Like that one song? From Cinderella?” he tries to say it rather nonchalantly, but due to his younger sister’s recent obsession with Disney princesses and their movies, Jamil begrudgingly has the song lyrics memorized at this point.

“Just like that,” his father chuckles again, his eyes sparkling in amusement as if he could read Jamil’s thoughts. “Sometimes, when I can’t sleep, I’ll just sit out here and look at the stars. It’s very relaxing to me. And sometimes, maybe on the days when I feel too stressed out about something, I’ll make a wish on one.”

“Why are you stressed out, dad?” Jamil inquires with a prominent frown to his face.

“Because… of adult things that you don’t have to worry about for now.”

“Oh… but can I still make a wish anyways?”

“Of course, you can. Just pick a star and think about your wish. You can’t say it out loud or it won’t come true,” his father ruffles his hair and gives him a kind smile before returning his attention back to the sky.

Jamil also looks up at the sky where a bright star immediately catches his attention. Perhaps it was because he didn’t take the time to look elsewhere, but he could have sworn that one was the brightest of them all.

He wasn’t sure what he wanted to wish for. Heck, he wasn’t even sure he believed in wishing on a star.

But there’s a first for everything, right?

So, with his dark orbs fixed on that bright star and his stomach inaudibly grumbling, Jamil wishes for the first thing that comes to mind: sushi.

He didn’t say it out loud and there weren't any special occasions coming up that would warrant it — but when Jamil woke up the next morning, he found a wide assortment of sushi rolls laid out on the kitchen table.

He thought that there was no way it could have been a coincidence, that the star must have heard him and granted him his wish. That moment made him a believer, and he began to make wishes more frequently.

“Deuce, what’s the name of that star? That really bright one,” Jamil asks without thinking, the question interrupting the conversation his friends had been having.

“Which one?” Deuce looks towards the sky, trying to pinpoint exactly where Jamil’s index finger was gesturing towards. “I think you may be looking at Arcturus. It’s the brightest star in the Boötes constellation.”

“So that’s its name,” Jamil mumbles to himself.

“What was that?” Deuce asks with his head tilted slightly.

“No, it’s nothing. Thank you,” Jamil shakes his head dismissively.

His silence after that is enough of a signal to his friends that he was done with the brief conversation. If he tries to explain his attachment to the star, would his friends think that he was being silly?

He thinks even Deuce, the one who is absolutely in love with them, would think that it was weird.

So, Jamil keeps the star as a secret to himself.

Perhaps he isn’t afraid of his friends thinking of him as foolish. No, perhaps it is merely a part of his selfishness that if the star could truly grant wishes, he wanted to keep that ability all to himself.

That brings him to a wish that suddenly blossoms inside his heart. He’s not sure when the seed was planted there, but a sudden thought occurs to him.

If the star could really hear me now, I wish I could meet them and say ‘thank you��� to them.

Jamil has to fight the sudden urge to slap himself because of how silly he finds the thought. Where did it even come from?

The lack of sleep and feelings of nostalgia must be causing him to think irrationally.

He finally sits up and scoots himself closer to the small circle his friends have formed around Deuce’s telescope.

“Do you want to take a look?” Deuce asks when he notices the thoughtful look on Jamil’s face. His body is slightly turned towards him as he nudges his telescope’s eyepiece aside. “At the stars, I mean.”

“Can I?”

“Sure. If it was Lilia, I’d think twice.”

“Hey! I’m not the one that spilled spaghetti on Ace’s laptop!” Lilia protests loudly which causes the other three men to shush him before they receive a complaint. He grimaces before lowering his voice, “sorry, sorry.”

“I only spilled it because someone decided it was the perfect time to body slam me in the cafeteria,” Jamil jokingly bites back before getting up and making his way towards Deuce.

“Arcturus, right? I adjusted the telescope so if you look, you can see it even more closely,” Deuce takes a seat on a short bench besides the telescope, watching as Jamil closes one eye and peers through the eyepiece with the other.

“Whoa,” Jamil says in awe under his breath once his eyes have adjusted to the new way of seeing the night sky, “it’s even prettier through a telescope. I can see why you enjoy this so much.”

“It’s never too late to change your major if you want to join the dark side,” Deuce chuckles as his head tilts back to look at the sky as well.

“In your dreams,” Jamil mumbles with a grin on his face when he finally leans away from the telescope. “Plus, Ace would literally bury me ten feet under if I left him in the program by himself.”

“I heard that,” Ace calls out before chucking a handful of grass towards Jamil’s head that falls down almost as quickly as it was sent up.

Deuce laughs again and sends Ace an apologetic look, “don’t worry, your best friend is safe and sound in the architecture department with you.”

Ace immediately makes a gagging sound at the mention of “best friend” before turning his attention back to the game he and Lilia were busy playing.

“Well, I’m just about done here. Maybe another hour and we can start heading back,” Deuce announces. “And… thanks for coming out here with me tonight, guys.”

The news is met with an unanimous “okay” from the rest of the group. Jamil moves away from the telescope so Deuce could take his place and continue whatever project he’d been working on prior.

“Huh, that’s weird. Arcturus is gone,” Deuce says aloud, mostly to himself, but the words capture Jamil’s attention.

Jamil’s gaze trails up to where he’d been captivated by the bright star mere moments ago, only to find that it was truly gone.

Just like before. How strange…

❥

The following Monday, there’s someone Jamil has never seen before sitting at the seat next to his usual one in one of his classes. He makes eye contact with them almost immediately after walking into the room and thinks they definitely must be a new student.

There’s no way I’d forget such an attractive face like that.

Someone behind Jamil clears their throat, signaling for him to move, because he’s blocking the flow of traffic by standing right in the middle of the doorway.

“Oh, sorry,” Jamil mumbles and bows his head apologetically.

He makes his way towards his seat with his eyes glued to his shoes, all of his usual confidence slowly leaking out. He’s not sure why the unknown person beside him is making him feel so nervous, and he’s not quite sure how to deal with it.

Lucky for Jamil, he doesn’t have to make the first move today.

“Um… excuse me?”

Jamil feels a poke on his upper arm. It makes him look up and make eye contact with you once again.

“Yes?” Jamil answers, his voice barely above a whisper.

You laugh lightheartedly and lower your voice’s volume to match his, “Jamil Viper, right? I’m Arcturus, but you can call me y/n.”

Jamil blinks rapidly while his mouth continuously opens and closes. He’s clearly caught off guard by the mention of the bright star, but you seem completely unphased by his reaction.

“You’re pranking me, right? Did Ace tell you to say that?”

“Who— ah, your friend with the heart marking? No, he didn’t.”

“Then Deuce did?”

“Not him either. This isn’t a prank, Jamil. I’m really Arcturus,” you state firmly.

The man narrows his eyes suspiciously at you, “prove it.”

“Hm… let’s see,” you tap your chin as you mentally sort through the many wishes Jamil has made as a child. “Ah! When you were 10 years-old, you wished for a pet tyrannosaurus rex after watching the Jurassic Park movies.”

“That’s a lucky guess.”

“Fine. Wouldn’t it be better if you made a wish now and I grant it? You can’t tell me I just got lucky then.”

“Are you tricking me into making a wish? Are you sure you’re not just a sneaky little genie?” Jamil asks playfully.

“I can see why you’d think that I’m a genie, but as you can see: there’s no magic lamps involved here,” you state with a bright smile, one that doesn’t do justice to how brightly you shine in the sky. “And I wouldn’t trick you like they would either. Just tell me your wishes as they come to your heart, and I’ll make them come true. That’s what I’ve always done, right?”

Jamil wasn’t expecting for you to answer so genuinely. They were just rhetorical questions he asked without thinking, but he could tell that you were being truthful.

Still, a big part of him is suspicious.

In what world would a star become a human? And out of all the things they could do, why would they come and find him?

The other, smaller part of him wants to believe you. So he plays along and decides to humor you.

“Just like that?” Jamil asks with an eyebrow cocked up apprehensively.

“Well, you know, there are rules. But yes: just like that.”

“Okay… and what are the rules?”

“They’re exactly what you’d think they’d be: nothing illegal, nothing that can harm others— which, uh, I guess ties into the first rule.”

“And how many do I get?”

“Three.”

“Ahah, so you admit that you’re a genie.”

“Not a genie,” you giggle before tapping the tip of Jamil’s nose gently. “So, what would you like to wish for first?”

“That’s a very important decision, Arct—”

“Y/n,” you quickly interrupt the man to correct him.

“Y/n,” Jamil articulates with a raise of his eyebrows and a nod, “you’ll have to give me some time to think. I’m not even sure what I want to wish for yet.”

“Boo!” you whine, leaning over the long desk with your arms stretched out in front of you. “Well, if I have to wait then it shouldn’t be in the middle of a boring history lecture.”

As if on cue, the screen of Jamil’s phone lights up to indicate that he has a missed notification. He narrows his eyes at you one last time before unlocking his phone.

“Huh,” Jamil makes a sound that's mixed with surprise and confusion when he reads a new email on his phone. “My professor has never canceled class before. Did you… did you do this?”

You shrug when Jamil points his phone at you accusingly. But you’re pleased to see that he seems to believe you a bit more now.

There’s loud shuffling noises coming from all around you as students busy themselves by cheering for their canceled lecture and packing up their untouched laptops.

“So?” you ask, an expectant look on your face.

Jamil bites on his lower lip and taps the cap of a pen on the desk rhythmically. He stares off into space, seemingly deep in thought, and you wait patiently for him to sort through his predictably long lists of possibilities.

“Would it…” you start, poking at Jamil’s forearm to make him look at you. “Would it help if I mention that you can still make wishes even after the three?”

“What do you mean?” Jamil tilts his head, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

“I mean, I only came down here because hanging out in the sky all night long is so boring. You try doing it for a countless amount of centuries, then trust me — you’ll understand,” you wave your hands dismissively. “Anyways, that’s besides the point. The point is: you had unlimited wishes when you were a child, and you’ll still have unlimited wishes after I finish granting the three here.”

Jamil nods in understanding before abruptly standing up and slinging a backpack strap over his shoulder, “you should’ve led with that, y/n.”

“I’m sorry, I’m not used to speaking to humans directly,” you say before your eyes shift between Jamil’s face and the hand he’s holding out towards you. “What?”

“I think I might know what my first wish is, so come on,” Jamil inches his hand closer to you, a signal for you to place yours in his.

You comply, allowing the man to pull you out of the empty classroom and towards an unknown location.

It’s a sunny day, a perfect day for an afternoon stroll. And despite it being the middle of the fall semester, there’s more than a handful of students frolicking in the spacious college yard instead of studying.

The sight of them being so happy and carefree brings a smile to your face. It’s rare for you to see humans during the day time — and even more rare for you to see them not stressed out by something when you do get the chance.

Really, most of the time the bright sun rays block the sight of earth from you. It restricts you to only observing them during the nighttime, when most of the population is already asleep.

Soon, the large crowds of students become much more sparse until only a few of them are left hanging around.

“Um, Jamil? Where are we going exactly?” you chime up.

It takes a few more minutes of walking before Jamil finally stops, and your shoulder accidentally bumps into his back from your lack of attention.

“Here,” Jamil turns around to face you, his ears completely blocking out your murmured apology.

You lean over to the side to peek behind Jamil only to straighten up and raise an eyebrow at the man a second after, “and what are we doing standing by this long stretch of pavement?”

“We’re here for my first wish: I wish to learn how to roller skate.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

“That’s… a very tame wish,” you state plainly.

You take Jamil’s backpack off his shoulder before squatting down and unzipping it. Your hand digs into the textbook filled space and pulls out a pair of roller skates.

Jamil’s eyes practically bulge out in shock when he sees them, because there’s no way something like that could have fit inside his small backpack.

“But as you wish,” you grin as you hold the roller skates up towards Jamil.

“Whoa, how’d you do that?” Jamil gasps as he takes them from you.

“Do you believe me now?” you counter, crossing your arms and watching as Jamil hurries to replace his tennis shoes.

“I’m ninety-nine percent convinced. Just depends on how quickly I learn how to roller skate now.”

“You know that I’m not a miracle worker, right?” you stand up quickly, your arms reaching out just in time to catch Jamil as he slips forward.

When the man turns his head, your faces are so close to one-another that the tips of your noses touch.

“S—sorry. Tha—thank you,” Jamil manages to stammer out, his ears immediately turning a bright shade of red from embarrassment as he straightens up.

You’re undeterred from the close proximity, human feelings of embarrassment or shyness not a part of your vocabulary. So you giggle and merely find Jamil’s reaction dramatic and adorable.

“Don’t be so jumpy. How am I supposed to teach you if you don’t let me get close enough to do so?” you stand behind Jamil’s wobbly frame, your hands placed on either side of his waist to steady him.

“Well, I thought you’d snap your fingers and I’d just magically know,” Jamil mumbles.

“I could, but that’s no fun, Jamil. And I came here to have fun.”

“I thought you came here to grant my wishes.”

“Oh, that too,” you nod, though the carefree tone of your voice does nothing to convince Jamil of your intentions. “Now, we’ll start off by teaching you the correct posture. The most important thing here is balance, so I’ll have to let you go now.”

“Perfect,” Jamil’s body stiffens once he feels your warmth leave his body.

The chilly autumn air does nothing to help him from missing your earlier proximity. But the more you try to coach him through the basics of roller skating, the warmer his body gets.

To anyone on the outside looking in, it may seem that Jamil is a natural at the sport. But, as fast a learner Jamil is regularly, there is no way he’s able to pick up on things as quickly as he did today.

Not to mention, his friends have already tried multiple times to teach him how to roller skate before with minimal success.

Who would have thought all-rounder Jamil Viper actually had a weakness?

Now it feels as if Jamil is moving off of muscle memory. The things that you instruct him to do sounds unfamiliar to his ears, but his body follows everything to a T.

You watch like a proud parent while Jamil glides up and down the long walk of pavement as if he’s been doing it his entire life. The sound of his gleeful laughter ringing through the air makes you smile brightly in response.

“Should we try doing some tricks now?” you ask as Jamil passes by you again.

At your question, Jamil presses down hard on his right toe to break and gives you a panicked look, “are you serious?”

“I’m serious and I haven’t failed you yet,” you place your hands on your hips, the determined look on your face telling Jamil that he couldn’t back down now.

“If you can actually teach me how to do tricks by the end of the day, then I’ll believe you.”

“Oh, done deal!” you clap in excitement, “let’s get started then!”

❥

“Remind me again why we’re here, Jamil?” you ask as you gaze up at the intricate entrance to the Centre Pompidou.

“I’m studying architecture. I wanted to see all the famous monuments of France for my studies since my classmate Rook wouldn’t stop talking about it,” Jamil replies, his hands busy taking pictures of the complex building with his phone.

“And here I thought you were just making any excuse to miss your classes.”

“Would you judge me if I say that’s kind of true?”

“No, I wouldn’t,” you shake your head before holding your hands out. “Here: do you want me to take a picture for you?”

“Oh, sure. Thank you,” Jamil hands you his phone before jogging a few feet forward and facing you.

With a few clicks of the Camera app, you complete the routine that’s been established for the past few days since you’ve arrived in Paris, France.

Jamil’s second wish was quickly made the day after you taught him how to roller skate. After spending the night thinking about all the things he never got the chance to do, he went out to find you again.

It wasn’t hard for him to, you’d already told him that you’d be hanging around one of the many coffee shops surrounding the college campus.

“Oh, thank goodness you found me. I was starting to get bored,” you sigh in relief when you look up from your laptop to find Jamil sliding into the seat across from yours.

He doesn’t bother to ask where your laptop came from, or how you have the money to pay for the mocha latte in your hands. At this point, he believes that you’re capable of more things than he could possibly ever understand.

“Are you okay? Is there something on my face?” you ask when Jamil doesn’t say anything.

You gently pat your cheeks in search of anything that feels out of place, assuming that’s why Jamil is staring at you wordlessly.

“What? Oh. No. Sorry, no. You, uh, you— you look great,” Jamil shakes his head quickly before he presses his lips into a thin line and averts his eyes down to the coffee table. “I didn’t mean to stare.”

You know that Jamil is usually not shy, usually not someone who stammers unless he’s nervous — it’s a rare occurrence.

So, you think perhaps he finds you intimidating: a celestial body who could probably strike him down if he’s not being too careful with himself.

It could explain why he treats you like one of his friends one minute but becomes flustered the next.

“You know that I’m not going to strike you down with lightning, right?” you lean forward with your arms crossed on the table and your lips curved up into an amused smile.

“L—lightning?” Jamil asks nervously as he scratches the nape of his neck. “Would you be able to? Strike me with lightning, I mean.”

“My name isn’t ‘Malleus’, but yes: I could if I really wanted to,” you shrug nonchalantly. A horrified look appears on Jamil’s face, and you would have found it comical if he didn’t look exactly like a deer in headlights. “But you haven’t done anything to warrant that, so don’t be so scared.”

“I’m not scared. It’s just that you’re… kind of intimidating,” Jamil huffs.

“Are you intimidated because I’m not actually human, or because your charmingly good looks don’t have any affect on me?”

“Um…” Jamil looks at you in the same way a guilty child would look at their parents during a scolding: with wide puppy dog eyes and lips jutting out into a pout. “The first one?”

“You mean the second one,” you correct the man confidently. “It’s not the first option because you still don’t believe me yet, but you will soon.

“Speaking of which,” you clear your throat before leaning in closer and lowering your voice, “do you have any ideas for your second wish?”

“Oh. Actually, y—yeah, I do,” Jamil says slowly, almost hesitantly.

“You don’t sound very confident about that.”

“Well, it’s a very big wish. I, uh… I wish I could go to France.”

“Now that’s the kind of wish I’ve been waiting for,” you nod in approval before taking your last sip of coffee and firmly placing the cup down. “Let’s go.”

“What, now?” Jamil emphasizes the last word with the raise of his eyebrows. “Y/n, you’re always in a rush, aren’t you?”

“I’m sorry, I’m just used to getting these wishes done right away. So… not right now?”

“Oh, no, we can go today. I’d just need to pack some stuff first.”

“Ah, that’s right,” your mouth opens into a small ‘o’ when you realize you’ve been rushing to get moving without thinking first. “Yes, go pack whatever you need and come find me again when you’re ready to go.”

“Okay. I’ll see you later?” Jamil is already up from his chair before he could finish the question.

The excitement he exudes is contagious and you couldn’t hold back the giggle bubbling up in your chest.

“You know where to find me,” you wave the man off, gesturing for him to leave the coffee shop quickly.

Less than a week has passed since Jamil made the wish that has you turning into a tourist, but it feels like you’ve spent at least a month together.

You spend every day in the same fashion as you did today: head off to a famous French monument that was in a far too long list Rook provided Jamil, he takes who knows how many pictures for future references, and then you offer to take his pictures.

You have the steadiest hands out of anyone you know — which, to be fair, isn’t that many humans in the first place — yet those pictures always turn out somewhat blurry.

Today’s pictures at the Centre Pompidou is no exception to this.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know why I bother anymore. You should just delete those,” you sigh, your shoulders drooping in defeat as you watch Jamil swipe through his camera roll.

Despite you telling him that every single time, Jamil always keeps the pictures that you take of him.

Then, when you aren’t looking, when you’re busy taking in the beautiful sights around you, Jamil sneaks in a few pictures of you.

He’s not sure what will happen to them once you’re gone. Would they stay on his phone and you simply become a J. Doe to the rest of the world? Or would they disappear forever as if you were never there to begin with?

He bets if he asked you nicely, you’d allow him to keep those memories with him.

“So, shall we go inside?” you ask as you shove your hands into the pockets of your wool overcoat.

Your question interrupts Jamil’s brief thoughts, who merely blinks before he turns his attention to you, “I’m sorry, what?”

“Do you want to go inside?” you reword and repeat your question.

“Oh. Yeah, let’s go,” Jamil nods and holds a hand out towards you.

You hesitate for only a moment before you take a hand out of your pocket and place it in his. Your skin feels cold against Jamil’s, though it’s uncertain if it’s because of the weather or something else.

Still, in an attempt to keep you warm, Jamil intertwines his fingers with yours and sticks your hands into his kangaroo pocket.

How did Jamil get from jumpy and intimidated to becoming comfortable enough to hold your hands in a matter of a week? Even he wouldn’t be able to give you an answer for that.

Perhaps his courage is influenced by the atmosphere that the city of love provides; it’s where couples in love roam freely, they hold hands and sneak in kisses whenever they can.

Jamil tells himself that the two of you are merely blending in with the crowd — that there’s no way he has a crush on you.

But as he watches you studying the artwork displayed neatly along cream-colored walls, he finds that he’d prefer to look at you instead of the exhibitions.

Snap out of it, Jamil Viper.

As if you could read his thoughts, you defy him, appearing in front of the man like an unexpected dream. Like always, there’s a beautifully wide smile on your face that makes Jamil’s heart skip a beat just at the sight of it.

“Are you okay? You’re all spaced out today.”

“What? No, I’m not,” Jamil huffs before he steps aside to let a group of tourists walk past.

“No, you’re not okay or no, you’re not spacing out?”

“No, I’m not spacing out. I was just deep in thought— yeah, deep in thoughts of what this painting could possibly mean,” Jamil gestures towards a medium-sized canvas to his right without really looking at it.

“That’s a painting of the Mona Lisa holding a chubby ginger cat. I’m not really sure that there’s any special meaning to it,” you chuckle briefly before you reach out to gently tug at the sleeve of Jamil’s hoodie. “Come on, mister, let’s go.”

“Where are we going, exactly?” Jamil asks as he uncrosses his arms and allows you to drag him past the long and heavily populated hallways of the art gallery.

“I figured you could use a change of pace from all the art museums and history— not that there’s anything wrong with any of those places. But I planned a little surprise for you.”

“You did?” Jamil’s eyebrows quirk up in surprise.

“Okay, I admit the idea just popped into my head,” you glare playfully at the man. “But I’m not the one trying to find a deeper meaning to a cat painting.”

Jamil doesn’t say anything in response, doesn’t try to tell you that he finds you even more mesmerizing than all the artwork in the building combined — and that he’d been staring at you this entire time.

He just lets out a short laugh and nods in agreement.

You stop in front of an emergency exit door before turning around to face Jamil. The serious look on your face is a rare sight to see and the man knows that he should take your next words seriously.

“Don’t freak out when I open this door,” you say slowly, making sure to enunciate every word.

Jamil nods again before his eyes trail up to the bright exit sign above the door, “are we… going to trigger the fire alarm for fun?”

“Definitely not. I’m sure that actually goes against both of my rules,” you take a few steps backwards until your back is pressed against the push pad of the exit device.

Jamil braces himself for bright flashing lights and loud alarms when you push the door open, but he’s met with neither of those things.

Instead, he sees beautiful shades of orange on the other side of the door. There’s a generously wide and long stretch of grass lined with various types of trees, and both locals and tourists lounging about the large space.

“Don’t worry, we’re here for a picnic,” you nod your head towards the scene, waiting for Jamil to walk past the threshold of the door to follow him out.

Jamil glances back when the door softly shuts behind you, the surprise evident on his face when he finds that it’s been replaced by a black Peugeot 208.

“Sometimes I forget that you’re actually a magical being who can do stuff like that.”

“And you don’t seem as shocked as you should be for a human being,” you shoot back with a grin. “Not that I’m complaining. I’d much prefer that to you screaming in fear.”

Jamil looks unamused at your last sentence. He knows exactly what you are referring to: the first time he experienced the unexplainable things that you are capable of.

That experience was similar to what you’d done just now, and it was what solidified his belief in you.

“Okay, but you didn’t warn me that opening the door to a washroom was going to lead me to the top of the Eiffel Tower. This is a lot more acceptable.”

“Well, I figured we could make the journey a lot easier and faster by doing that,” you shrug, the contents of the picnic basket in your hands making soft shuffling noises as you move. “Now, let’s go find an open space to sit.”

You follow closely behind Jamil as he maneuvers around small clusters of chatty folks, most of which doesn't hear his muttered “excuse me.”

You follow him until you reach nearly the end of the grassy terrain where there is a decent amount of available space for you to lay a blanket on top.

“Where are we anyways?” Jamil asks once you’re situated on top of the thick blanket protecting your clothes from the damp grass.

“The Luxembourg Gardens. I overheard someone saying that it’s the perfect spot for a picnic, and figured you could use the change in scenery.”

Jamil has to admit that you’re right about that.

The much needed fresh air aside, Jamil finds that he surprisingly enjoys seeing all the beauty that nature has to offer as much as he enjoys studying the intricate ways buildings can be made.

Or, at least, he used to enjoy it.

That was before he decided to take on as many classes as he could in a single semester when he started college. All his time is spent on studying and making sure he got all his assignments done on time.

Somewhere along the way, he even managed to secure an internship that took up even more of his time and attention.

What little free time he earned would be spent on making sure his friends knew that he was still a functioning member of society. Even then, Jamil would spend the entire time thinking about both the assignments he’s already completed and the ones he left for later.

Ace would say that he’s burned out and needs to step foot outside of the college grounds more often.

Now he’s really taken that advice to heart, because how much farther away from college could he get than Paris, France?

“Clear your head and eat a carrot, Jamil,” you interrupt the man’s thoughts by waving a baby carrot in front of his face.

“Veggies,” Jamil groans before a look of utter disgust overtakes his features.

“What?” you ask in the most innocent tone you could muster up and bring the carrot closer to Jamil’s face.

“Please, I’ll literally eat anything else,” Jamil sticks his tongue out in a mock gagging motion as he leans further away from your hand.

“You mean you’ll eat anything that’s not fruits or vegetables, right? That’s bad, you know,” you click your tongue in disapproval before taking a small bite of the baby carrot. “Maybe you should use your last wish to make all of it taste like pasta.”

“Can you do that?”

“I could but I won’t.”

“Why not?!”

“Because I will not be the person responsible for you getting tired of eating pasta. You’ll hate me forever and I don’t want that.”

“Well, I’ll hate you anyways if there’s no pasta in that basket,” Jamil says jokingly, his teasing causing you to throw the baby carrot towards his chest in retaliation. “Okay, I’m sorry, I’m sorry!”

You narrow your eyes at the man before you stick a hand inside the picnic basket and pull out a plastic container filled with chicken alfredo. Jamil lets out a loud cheer at the sight and smell of the food, his abrupt holler earning him a few glances from nearby visitors.

“You get so excited about food, Jamil. I remember you used to wish for sushi and ramen all the time as a child,” you giggle, watching with sparkling eyes as Jamil takes the container from your hands and hurriedly opens it.

“Well, the purpose of life is to eat and enjoy as much food as you can, you know?”

“Oh, is it now?”

“It sure as heck is the purpose of mine,” Jamil nods firmly.

You hum in response and curl up into a loose ball with your arms hugging your legs and chin resting on top of your knees. Your eyes flutter shut just as a gentle breeze begins to blow.

The sun is setting behind Jamil’s hunched over figure, the warm sunlight illuminating your figure and making you appear nearly ethereal in Jamil’s eyes.

You’re so beautiful.

Jamil averts his eyes just as quickly as the thought enters his mind; and as he shoves forkfuls of pasta into his mouth, he tries hard to ignore the warm feeling igniting inside his chest.

❥

“This is a dream, isn’t it?”

“What?” you ask, turning your head to look at Jamil who is laying towards the opposite direction of you but with his head resting right by yours.

“I keep thinking that this entire trip — and you — are all just part of a really long dream,” Jamil sighs before he also turns his head towards you.

“Would you like me to pinch you? Isn’t that what people do when they think they’re dreaming?”

Jamil laughs at your questions, his warm breath fanning across your face and his eyes curving into rainbows. He knows that you’re genuinely asking, but he still finds you too innocent and adorable for your own good.

“No, I think I’d like to stay inside this dream. But thank you for the offer.”

“You’re welcome.”

Comfortable silence blankets over the two of you as you resume your previous activities of stargazing. At least, an attempt is made because there aren't as many stars in the Paris night sky as you’d like there to be.

Regardless of that, Jamil tries to savor every moment of relaxation he’s been awarded since you’ve come into his life.

He can’t remember the last time he’s been able to take a step back to just breathe like this.

His normal life has no time for hobbies — there isn’t any time to spare to learn how to ice skate, roller skate, snowboard, or any other fun activities his friends like to do.

This is the first time he’s been able to travel out of the country, for vacation no less, and he isn’t even stressed out about the schoolwork he’s probably missing out on right now.

It feels like a dream: being able to lay on the grass of the Luxembourg Gardens with no worries and with you by his side.

“I wish that this dream would last forever,” Jamil whispers, his voice barely audible but you’re close enough that you can still hear him. “Can you make that happen?”

“You’ll have to be more specific, Jamil.”

“It’s just that… since you came along, I feel like I can finally breathe again. This is the most relaxed and carefree I’ve felt in a very long time. I didn’t even realize how stressed out I was before, and—and I don’t want to go back. ”

You had an inkling that Jamil may have gotten attached to you, may have gotten used to having your constant presence by his side. That’s why he feels so comfortable around you now — at least, enough to make jokes and tease you when he could.

It never occurred to you that he may want to keep you by his side when you’re not able to do so. Not until now.

“I wish…”

You hold your breath as you wait for Jamil to continue his sentence. You know that once he makes his third and final wish, you’ll immediately and completely disappear from his life.

Perhaps, it is for the better that he’ll have no recollection of you besides as a star in the sky.

“I wish I could continue to feel this way. I wish, among all the stress and madness, I’ll also have the time to be free and enjoy life,” Jamil laughs at himself, finding himself silly for saying the words out loud. He turns to you with a soft smile on his face, “can you make that happen? It’s a pretty tall order.”

You nod slowly, refusing to look at the man as you mumble, “as you wish.”

With those words, your body begins to emit a gentle white glow.

At first, Jamil thinks it’s a reaction of you granting his wish. But as your body becomes more and more transparent, the panic settles more and more inside his heart.

“Y/n?” Jamil calls out, his voice shaky as he reaches out to cup your cheek. His hand passes through your disappearing body, causing him to panic even more and the volume of his voice rising as he calls out for you again. “Y/n!”

A final burst of bright white light makes Jamil shut his eyes tightly and shield them with his hands. Just as quickly as the light came, he finds himself surrounded by darkness and quiet once again.

When Jamil finally opens his eyes, he finds himself lying down in the backseat of Ace’s car. He groans, carefully getting up without moving Lilia’s sleeping figure too much.

He rests his friend’s head on his shoulder after he sits up and looks out the car window, “where are we?”

“Oh, you’re up?” Ace replies as he glances up at the rear-view mirror to look at Jamil’s dark silhouette.

“Yeah, I had the strangest dream: I was in Paris.”

“You must have been hanging out with some mimes because you were laughing a lot in your sleep.”

“Was I?” Jamil raises an eyebrow skeptically. “I can’t even remember what the dream was about anymore. All I remember is standing on top of the Eiffel Tower.”

“Well, don’t go back to sleep because we’re about half an hour away from the dorm now.”

“Sure,” Jamil adjusts his position so he can prop his elbow and chin up on an arm rest.

He watches as they drive past a handful of traffic lights and countless street lights, a strange feeling of being out of place poking at him.

But he pushes the feeling away for the remainder of the drive back to the dorms. He continues to push it away when he sinks into his dorm bed in exhaustion 30 minutes later and dreams of seeing Paris from the top of the Eiffel Tower.

The next morning, Jamil wakes up to about a dozen emails that all include some sort of revision to the class syllabi.

“What in the world?” Jamil asks, his voice groggy from sleep and his eyes blinking against the bright light of his phone screen.

Once his eyes have adjusted, Jamil scrolls through the emails before logging into every student portal available to him. He double, triple, and quadruple-checks every platform to make sure his professors weren’t simply playing a trick on him.

“Good morning, Jamil!” a familiar voice gleefully calls out.

Light pours into the room as the door is opened by none other than a smiling Ace. His cheerful demeanor further confirms that Jamil wasn’t simply imagining the emails.

“Did you hear the good news yet?” Ace ignores the protests of Jamil’s roommate as he prances into the room and plops down on the edge of his friend’s bed. He doesn’t wait for Jamil to answer before he continues talking, “now we have all this free time outside of getting our major projects done. What are we gonna do with ourselves?”

Despite still being half-asleep, Jamil can’t deny that he’s also filled with delight at the unexpected news. His mind is already going through all the things he’s been holding off on doing — but he can’t seem to wave off a major sense of déjà vu as he does so.

“Oh, wait. How about we finally teach you how to roller skate?” Ace pats Jamil’s shoulder to catch his attention.

“No offense, Ace, but you’re way too energetic in the morning,” Jamil groans and pulls his blanket up to his chin. He squints at Ace’s unwavering grin for a few silent seconds before he finally sighs and rolls his eyes. “Okay, I’m in.”

“That’s the spirit! I’ll let the guys know,” Ace silently cheers, saving Jamil’s roommate from the unwelcomed noise before he saunters out just as quickly as he came in.

On a normal day, even if Jamil said that he was in, he still wouldn’t have enough free time to actually learn anything besides the basics — if that.

So it’s a nice change of pace when, less than an hour later, he meets his friends besides the same stretch of pavement as where you granted him his first wish.

He doesn’t remember those events in detail, only as fleeting events of a strange dream, and dismisses his sense of déjà vu as having been at this spot many times before.

“You still remember the basics, right?” his friend Kalim asks as he holds his arms out towards Jamil.

Jamil gratefully grabs onto the long limbs for support as he slowly gets up, his legs wobbling while he tries to balance himself on the roller skates.

“Have you been practicing without us?” Lilia asks with his gaze fixed on Jamil’s legs.

It’s a harmless question that’s only asked because Jamil’s not very big on balance. No, usually he and Kalim would have to keep a close eye on their friend to make sure his legs aren’t floundering like fish on dry land.

But today, Jamil seems stable on his own, and they step back and watch in surprise as Jamil glides freely without them.

“Oh, Ace’s not going to believe this,” Lilia laughs before dragging Jamil’s backpack to his side and rummaging through the pockets for his phone.

Lilia unlocks the phone with every intent to take a video of Jamil acing the Basics of Roller Skating 101. But a recent picture displayed on the lower left hand corner of the Camera app catches his attention.

“Jamil, do you have a partner? They’re cute,” Lilia comments after he’s clicked on the display and enlarges the photograph. “I mean, thanks a lot for not telling us though.”

“What? Where? Who?” Kalim quickly appears behind Lilia to peer over the shorter man’s shoulder.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about. When do I have the time for a partner?” Jamil furrows his eyebrows in confusion as he makes his way over to his huddled up friends.

Kalim and Lilia exchange looks of disbelief before Lilia holds the phone out so Jamil could look at what’s displayed on the screen.

His breath hitches when he sees a picture of you.

They’re the same photographs that you didn’t know he’d taken of you. They’re proof that you were real — and you existed in this world briefly although Jamil has no recollection of who you are.

And if you’d known those pictures existed, they’d have been erased from Jamil’s memory just like everything else had been.

“I… I have no idea who this is,” Jamil says unconvincingly as he takes his phone away from Lilia.

He can’t bring himself to tear his eyes away from the still of your face. The bright smile you’ve always graced him with is permanently captured within a photograph of a J. Doe.

Jamil can’t remember meeting someone with your face. He certainly doesn’t remember your name or why he would have your picture on his phone.

But the longer he stares at the pictures, the farther the warmth igniting in his chest spreads throughout his body.

A single, short thought enters his mind.

Thank you.

And although he doesn’t know why he thought that, he has the sneaking suspicion it has something to do with the person in the photographs.

[creabirds]

bestie, give me some knowledge on the norlestappen fic pls

and if u would be so kind, i would drink up whatever u can share about voulez-vous

thank u n love u

talked about norlestappen here !!

oooh voulez-vous is something i’ve completely forgotten about until i was screaming about it with @wanderingblindly yesterday!

it’s a college au lestappen meet cute!!

snippet:

The first time it happened, Max was buried nose-deep into his engineering coursework, brows furrowed and nose scrunched as he tried to decipher the onslaught of data on his laptop screen, fingers twitching around his can of Red Bull – who the fuck was playing the piano in the fucking cafeteria on a Tuesday afternoon?

He was about to send a death glare and mutter threats of violence in the direction of whatever idiot had decided now was the appropriate time to hook up his bluetooth box to blast a piano ballad of all things when he spotted that the sound was in fact caused by a real, life-sized piano.

Max was surprised he had never noticed it standing there before, nestled into a corner between a giant potted plant that looked half-dead and an ugly pillar that his lackluster knowledge of structural engineering told him was actually useless.

And then his eyes wandered up to the guy who was sitting at it, slender fingers gliding over the keys. His mouth dropped open in shock. He quickly closed it again and grabbed his phone, frantically typing away while his eyes kept flitting back up to the man at the piano and back down, correcting his typos (because he didn’t use autocorrect, he wasn’t actually insane).

13:54 [to Danny Ric]

DANIEL

THERE IS A HOT GUY

PLAYING PIANO

AT THE CAFE

??????????????????????

[carolrain]

Get to Know Me

Thanks for tagging me, @saraminia @ramonaflow @apothecarose @flowertrigger @a-noble-dragon !

Name: Carol (shockingly! I signed up for tumblr when I was in a “grab my name everywhere” stage and just stuck with it)

Sign: Pisces

Time: 10:45 am

Favorite band/artist: Off the top of my head, who I’ve listened to this week, in a non-comprehensive way, Jason Isbell, Kate Wolf, Noah Reid, Kasey Chambers, Cheryl Wheeler, Lucy Wainwright Roche

Last movie: Spy Kids? if “sat in front of it and played on my laptop while my kid was entertained” counts

Last show: The last episode of something I watched was Schitt’s Creek (“Smoke Signals”), but the last start-to-finish show was The Lake.

When I created this blog: October 2010! I was consistent with it until mid-2015, and then I mostly took a 7-year break and picked it up again in 2022. My pre-SC archive amuses me. It’s so girly and pretty. Cats and books and shoes and a lot of pink. I recommend it, if you need something cheerful to look at. I should’ve been better at tagging, though.

Other blogs: I have a wordpress blog that’s . . . not abandoned, just not written in for the timebeing. It would be very easy for you to find if google still worked. But, alas!

Do I get asks: only when everyone else does

Average hours of sleep: Eh, about six nights a week, I fall asleep when my kid does and sleep a respectable 7-8 hours, and then about one night a week I do something stupid like start reading “You can fall” at midnight or monitor the state of the world on twitter all night despite still needing to get up on time.

Instruments: I played the piano for a decade in my youth and miss it terribly. I played the violin for four years and don’t miss it at all. I own a guitar and used to be able to play maybe three songs. I also own a ukulele, and the goal was to learn how to play something on it in 2023 (it still could happen!). My house also contains a keyboard, a recorder, a cello, and a finger harp thingy at the moment.

What I’m wearing: Black leggings, gray t-shirt with flowers on it, purple striped socks, navy hoodie. I’m hoping its blatant non-matchingness reads “manic pixie dream girl” rather than “no one’s looking at me anyway.”

Dream job: I do not dream of labor.

Tagging @mostlyinthemorning @mammameesh @mallpretzles I guess I will just do M names today for kicks.

[godofvillains]

@mellifluousxmedic

“Goodness, you’re quite the jack of all trades, aren’t you? Next you’ll tell me you know how to split cells and fly a jet or something,” She laughed with good intentions… But, part of her was a bit concerned that he actually would know how to do those things. Her poor brain wouldn’t be able to handle that kind of information.

Mochi stopped her jovial racing when Tomura opened his portal and gave it a cursory sniff. She decided she was not a fan of that, going to hide away in Ash’s lap. “It’s a pretty old app that my brother, Eon, jailbroke? I don’t know, but it’s umm… Whisper? Yeah, yeah,” Ash unlocked her computer.

She had a Tokyo Mew Mew wallpaper with multiple games, from Stardew Valley to Slime Rancher and Slime Rancher 2. She tapped an icon in the lower corner that opened a dark chat window for the previously mentioned app. There was roughly four hundred users linked to the servers, and some of the names burned memories into her skull. “To get to the encrypted server you’ll.. You’ll have to add Eon’s account. It doesn’t matter if he accepts or not, it’ll get you in.”

"I know how to drive a motorcycle," he announces to her. "But no jet plane.... For some other random facts about me since we're on this topic that I bet you could never guess-- I play both violin and piano. I've been playing violin since I was a kid and took up piano once I could control my quirk." With how his quirk used to work, there was no off and on switch. If he touched something with all five fingers, it would decay. No options. Now after he had his upgrade, he had a little option to not decay something-- despite touching it with all five fingers.

"Whisper? I've never heard of it. I know of discord and that's what I usually use, but whisper is new." He boots up his laptop which starts up very fast. He looks at her desktop and spots Slime Rancher. "Oh.. I just beat that game, slime rancher. It's fun, a very cute game. Eri got it for my for my birthday. But I got it on the Switch. I'm waiting until it's out of beta to buy number two."

"Do I just download Whisper off the internet? Is there's certain place I need to get it? Sorry, I just don't want any viruses on my laptop.." He shifts the laptop to face her. His desktop had a picture of Eri and all his pets as the wallpaper. And it had various game shortcuts on it, but not a lot. There was a specific folder for game short cuts.

"Here, just download it yourself onto here. I trust you know what you're looking for and can do it."

[redolentgrove]

Twas the Night Before

"Thanks again for all your help with the ocarina solos, Celeste."

About half an hour had passed since Bijoux's conversation with Blackjack. She was back on her laptop, putting the last touches together on the musical track to finish it. Knowing the gala was almost here, she was somewhat anxious to have it ready in time, but her earlier bouts of focus had helped immensely. From here, it was just little changes to give it a refined feel.

"Hey, no worries," Celeste trilled, the Sylveontaur peeking over her half-sister's shoulder. "Wow, this looks incredibly complicated, like you've actually got a lot of music stored on here… this is all stuff you've recorded?"

"I wish." Bijoux's response was casual, but also somewhat jealous, as she finished putting the last touches on the final track, saving her work. Fingers crossed that the export would be clean. "No, pretty much everything is either from the friends I made in band and choir at Undella High, though some of it is also Mom's piano playing. I do have some harp samples on here, but they're not in this particular track. I'm going to be playing that portion live along with the backing track I'm making here, and singing the words."

"And Mom's okay with this? I mean, you remember what happened the last time you performed a song in public like this…" Celeste's thought was cut off by a pinging sound coming from the phone next to Bijoux's laptop.

"Yeah, don't worry. I'm not performing that song again. I learned my - oh?" Bijoux picked up the phone, turning on the screen. A text was displayed on it, from Loki.

I got a message from the tailors - our dresses are fixed and ready for us to wear to the gala I told you about. If you can, send Celeste to get them. Also, get the guest bed and tent ready

"Huh. So the dresses are ready already? That sure was quick; Mom and I just went in for re-measurements yesterday." Bijoux chuckled softly. "Mom wants to know if you can go pick them up for her."

"Oh, of course!" Celeste trilled, her tails wagging lazily. "I'd better get moving before they close up shop. Did she say anything else?"

"Yeah… something about getting the guest bed ready… I think she's going to be having Millie over here for a while." Bijoux tilted her head. "She was here earlier; you just missed her before you came in to record your ocarina samples."

"Millie?" The Sylveontaur looked slightly confused. The name wasn't familiar to her at all.

"She's going to be my college roommate. Something must have happened while Mom went to deliver her family's floral order." Bijoux turned back to the computer screen - 'Exported successfully!' displayed, much to the chinchilla Pokemon's relief. "Thank goodness… I'll have to listen later and make sure it's all stitched together right, but at least it's done."

"Oh, that's nice," the fairy-type hummed. "You're going to be roommates here too, then! That's kind of fun. Well, I'm going to the tailor's then; you can work on the guest bed in the meantime. The Sylveontaur stood up fully and walked away, leaving Bijoux by herself.

"Yeah… kinda. Bye, Celeste!" the Cinccino-taur chimed, shutting down the laptop and tucking it beneath her left armpit. She headed to the storage shed and put it down on one of the shelves, thumbing through - ah, there it was! The guest tent, neatly packed into a box. She grabbed the box, and a box above it containing a sleeping bag. She took them back outside, getting them ready for her mom's arrival.

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

The process of setting up the tent and sleeping bag together took about two hours. Loki and Millie arrived at the clearing just as Bijoux emerged from inside the tent, the Dachsbun on Loki's back groggily humming and leaning into the taur's upper body. The colourful sunset swirled above the tree lines, giving an indicator that it had been a long, eventful day. Loki began un-hitching herself from her cart, nodding toward Bijoux in greetings.

"Hey Mom," Bijoux trilled casually, striding gently over to the taller taur's side and gently nudging a hand against Millie's cheek. "Hey, Millie."

"Huh… wh?" The Dachsbun's eyes fluttered open. She recoiled slightly at the Cinccino-taur's touch at first, but calmed down when she realised who was standing there. "Bijoux, hey… wow, Loki, are we here already?" The fairy-dog fidgeted slightly to re-orient herself on Loki's back, then hopped off, her feet hitting the ground beneath her. "Wait, Loki, let me help-"

"It's okay, Millie," Loki replied, already mostly through the unharnessing process. "I've done this hundreds, if not thousands, of times. It's basically an exact science at this point. I appreciate the thought, but right now I'd like you to just focus on making yourself at home. Bijoux just finished setting up the tent, it looks like. It's not much, I know…"

Millie shook her head, leaning lightly on Bijoux's side before walking over to the tent and smiling softly. "It's fine, Loki… honestly, I like the thought that I'm just camping out here with you two." She stepped inside the tent with a casual shrug, admiring the handiwork. Bijoux had sturdied it impeccably; it would have taken a gale-force wind to remove the stakes and unsettle it from the earth. The sleeping bag was comfortable, yet humble; it was a far cry from her normally plush bed, but she kind of liked it better this way.

"Everything okay in there?" Bijoux questioned, as Loki finished unattaching herself from the cart, taking it toward the storage shed. "It's kind of funny that you and I are sort of roommates out here, too…"

Millie nodded gently, stretching herself out lazily and letting out a soft sigh. "Yeah… hey, Bijoux? Listen, Loki invited me to this 'gala' thing that the two of you are going off to tomorrow… but I feel bad for turning down the offer."

"Why?" The taur tilted her head. "I would think the last place you want to be is somewhere fancy like that…"

"Yeah, but she offered so nicely and I just, you know…" Millie's head drooped as she slid into the sleeping bag. "After everything she did to help me get away from my Mom. I wonder if I owe it to her to go there. I'm not sure anyone would even be around to watch me at that point…"

"Nah," Bijoux hummed quietly. "You don't owe anyone a thing, Millie. Not me, not Mom, not your mom, not anyone. We'll find a way to make things work somehow; we always do. You worry about getting some rest and feeling safe, okay? I don't know what happened over in Undella Town, but it's over now."

"Is this your friend, Bijoux?"

The Cinccino-taur's head whipped back. Celeste had returned, complete with a pair of neatly-folded and arranged bags settled in a basket hitched upon the Sylveontaur's lower half. The fairy-type peered over Bijoux's shoulder, waving at the Dachsbun gently.

"Hi, there!" Celeste purred out lovingly, her twin tails wagging fiercely. "I'm Bijoux's half-sister, Celeste. You must be Millie! I'll help watch you while Mom and Bijoux are at the gala! I know they'd appreciate that peace of mind…"

The Dachsbun stared at Celeste with a fierce blush. "Y-yeah… gosh, you're pretty…" she murmured, a mixed hint of jealousy and admiration emanating in her voice. "What's in that basket on your back? That looks heavy…"

Celeste shook her head. "It's just Mom and Bijoux's dresses for the gala event." The Sylveontaur patted the wicker basket gently, as she felt the loosening of the ropes holding it on her back. Purple-socked hands then undid the knots and ties keeping things together, taking the basket as well. The hand then ruffled Celeste's head, and Loki's muzzle finally peered over her daughter's shoulder to look at the Dachsbun within the tent.

"Girls, back up a bit; Millie needs her rest." Loki gently tapped Bijoux and Celeste's legs with a forepaw, and the three of them all padded off to different parts of the grove. Loki took the dresses to the storage shed, Celeste went to the lakeside, and Bijoux headed to her favourite resting spot near her mother's gardens. Meanwhile, Millie yawned and lay her head down, eyes closing. The day's events clearly got to her, and it would take a nice night's rest for things to truly sink in.

I can't help feeling like the odd one out, and that it's somehow my fault... she thought, drifting slowly off to sleep.

[skyeislnd]

A “Newfound” Hobby

I took another break from writing on a public platform and began journaling in my phone’s notes app about more personal things. Not everything belongs online XD. However, at 1:07 AM July 14, 2023, I opened up my laptop and wanted to journal about my “newfound” hobby.

Two years ago, I bought a cheap acoustic guitar from Amazon that was targeted at beginners. The brand is Donner and I am not going to lie, I did not do as much research as I should have, but I digress. When I first received the guitar, I was extremely excited. I immediately downloaded a tuner app and tried to play the same day I got it. It obviously didn’t go well since it was my first day, but I was definitely having fun. I do want to mention that the first song that I tried to learn was “Jealous” by Eyedress. It was super popular on TikTok at the time, and it led to me finding one of my favorite artists of all time. That was a really bad choice for a first song, as it is played on an electric guitar, not an acoustic. So, after about three days of trying to play the song and failing, I gave up on it; the song, not the guitar. Instead, I tried to learn a K-Pop song. It was “Love Scenario” by IKON. Again, this was a bad song to learn as a beginner, especially because the notes best fit a piano rather than a guitar. Plus, it required finger plucking and by that point I had gotten so used to using a pick. I was still having fun, but a little less at that point since I was majorly impatient. I’ve worked on myself so my patience is a bit better, but needless to say, I gave up on guitar in the span of a around a month. Then, other factors contributed to me not being able to play or just not wanting to. 

However, as of July 2023, I have decided to try again. I hate being a quitter and it hurt to just see my $250 guitar collecting dust in the corner of my room. I also came across another guitar player on TikTok and he’s really good. He partially inspired me to pick it back up. I’m currently learning “Best Part” by H.E.R. and it’s pretty easy since it is only four chords repeated. It’s a much better choice than a song as difficult as the others. I’ve got more patience and I’m actually excited to learn again. I hope this time around my guitar journey will go better! 

My fingers are a bit tender from pressing down on the strings so I’m going to rest them and probably head to bed. 

(as I typed the ending bit, the guitar player went live so I’m going to watch before I head to sleep lol).

[rosepoints]

hey seo! would you recommend the mechanical keyboard you're currently using?

it's been about a year or so since getting my mechanical keyboard (womier k66, gateron red switches, botanical keycaps) and objectively..... no HAHAHAHA

my current rationale for this is that the keyboard is a little too tall for me to comfortably type as fast as i normally can on my laptop's keyboard. i have to hold my hands up and point my fingers actively downwards as if i'm back in my grade school piano lessons lmfao

i think this issue is probably personal? all mechanical keyboards have some degree of height to them, and this could easily be solved by getting a wrist rest, i think? but overall, there was a definite learning curve to typing on a mechanical keyboard after using my laptop keyboard for years and years. there's a change in how hard i have to hit the keys, how i have to point and angle my fingers, and again, i cannot emphasize how much it feels like i'm back playing piano again. the typing experience is not necessarily as mind blowing or amazing as tiktoks make it sound, and my typing speed actively went down on my mechanical keyboard. i still use it because i absolutely love the sounds and because i spent money on it though. the sounds tingle my brain lol

TLDR: if you have the money, sure, but like, not a necessity, not super great or life changing, it's just meh