#probably inaccurate musings

[void-tiger]

The difference between whether things are dreary or just starting to wake up is whether or not the birds are singing, and how many colorful undertones your eyes spot in the bare bark and fallen leaves and dormant grass after everything’s been thoroughly washed by rain.

[writingmeraki]

gents in dilemma.

a park sunghoon drabble !

pairing : rich!boy!sunghoon x gn!reader, teasing classmates to ???

genre : fluff/humour (?)

warnings : nothing just sunghoon using his privileges as a pretty rich boy lmao also no actual knowledge os spider-man comics im sorry if it's inaccurate <3 !

author's note : wooo! a double update ?!? who is thisss mayhaps very random but i told ya'll ( if u read my recent mingu drabble ) it's been a while since i realeased anything enha :( this was sort of a warm up to get back into writing for them! if you have any ideas pls send them in!! i rlly want to write for them again hehe &lt;3

sp dt to my enha moots ! @blue-jisungs ; @lheebra ; @haknom ; @odxrilove ; @hsgwrld ; @quaissants ; @enluv ; @hannie-dul-set ; @tqmies ; @byuqi ; @urszn ; @flwoie ; @tranquilpetrichor ; @hqrana ; @shuamorollss ; @strxwberry-skiess !! just to let you know i love u guys and think of you when i open this app 💌 !! i am ia a lot but i truly am grateful for you and your works 🩷!

word count : 1.2k

You were stuck there anyways. Your brother wouldn’t come pick you up earlier enough and all your friends left already so you found no point in wanting to leave and sit outside in the hot and humid weather where you’ll probably just end up with mosquito bites and sweaty skin. 

The song played in your earphones as you lazily flipped through the Spider-man comic. It was your newest hyperfixation and you had difficulties getting copies but you were getting there. 

Suddenly an intrusion popped in front of you as you got to the good part, but you paid no mind to whoever it was. 

Besides, who in their right mind would want to make small talk with a stranger in the damned detention room?

The music was dull but you could hear the sound of someone clearing their throat. Sighing, you put down the comic and looked unamused at the boy in front of you. 

Park Sunghoon. Rich, smart, pretty boy who lived up to all the stereotypes that clung to his personality while also hanging out with the same sort of people. Not a stranger you thought. 

You wondered how you missed seeing him and…Park Jonseong? (If you remembered correctly) walk in. Perhaps you indeed were too focused in your daydreams. 

Now amusement flickered in your gaze as you looked up at him. 

He definitely did live to his pretty boy name you mused as you took in the moles on his face, the shade of his pink lips, the messy yet perfectly sitting hair of his. 

He gulped under your calculating gaze, not knowing why he felt nervous all of a sudden when it was his idea to tell you not to say anything to Mr.Kim for when Jay and him would ditch the detention they got that day. He confidently told his friend he would threaten you if you didn’t comply, perhaps maybe bribe you a bit and surely it would do the trick.

But how his words seemed to bite right back at him because suddenly his mouth felt drier and tongue heavier under your gaze. For a brief moment, he wondered how he had never seen you, otherwise, he knew he wouldn’t be able to forget a face like yours. 

“Now now,what ever have I done to have the Park Sunghoon right in front of me?” You grinned teasingly at him and fuck you had dimples. He swore he might have died in that moment and reached heaven.

He felt a shove that snapped him out of his thoughts.

“Uh-yeah um we- wait you know me?” You raised a brow at his words, the amusement only growing as you saw the tip of his ears getting red.

Was he flustered…by you?

“ ‘course I do, it would seem weird if I didn’t at least to you people.” You murmured the last part, darting your eyes to his friend who seemed to roll his eyes.You weren’t sure if it was because of you or because of Sunghoon.

“Can you get to the point idiot-”

“Hey! Shut up, yeah? I’m talking-”

“All I see is you acting like a huge fucking si-”

They whispered to each other, almost making you giggle at the way they both seemed to be arguing over something, you figured you were somehow involved. 

“Well see- the thing is we’re going to ditch this.” You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion, tilting your head a little as you leaned forward in your chair, placing your head on one hand.

“And? Does that concern me?”

“We don’t want you snitching, that’s what he meant. You can ditch too, Mr.Kim’s known for never coming back to his detentions once he leaves.” 

You shook your head, “I’m fine here, I have to wait anyways, you can-”

Suddenly a thought occurred to you, “Hmm, the snitching on you both part sounds tempting, I might even get brownie points, struggling with his class anyways.” 

No,he was not supposed to find your smirk cute, nor the mischievous glint in your eyes.

“What’s in it for me?”

“Wha- what’s in it for you?! You can ditch too! Didn’t I say that already-”

“Wait. I might have something.”

Jay stared at Sunghoon in both disbelief and annoyance while you looked at him curiously. He set his bag down and opened it, pulling out something.

“Here.”

You couldn’t believe your eyes. The newest edition of the Spider-man series. You’d been trying for ages to get it, but held yourself back when you saw the triple digit price point. 

Of course he’d have this. 

You gasped in disbelief, looking in awe as you grabbed it and flipped through the pages. Sunghoon found it absolutely cute the way your eyes lit up. 

He was concerned about how enduring he already found you in the span of approximately 10 minutes. 

“It’s too expensive, I can’t-”

“Who said I am giving it to you? I’m letting you borrow it so you won’t rat us out.”

It seemed the tables turned and it was your turn to be flustered under his teasing gaze and he did in fact have a cute grin. Shit-eating one but adorable. 

“I’ll take it to my grave.” You hugged the comic to your chest and did a zipping your mouth motion, throwing away the pretend key. He let out a chuckle at your actions and the sound absolutely did not do something to your heart ( You think it might have burst ). 

Jay had been observing the interaction and he knew why exactly Sunghoon did what he was doing. Seems like the supposed ‘ice’ prince was melting at your mere presence. Oh he was so going to spill everything to the rest of his friends and tease him for the life of it. 

Sunghoon’s gaze moved towards your phone, seeing it was still unlocked he took it while you yelped in alarm, “Hey! I said I won’t say anything!”

You had stood up from your chair and now only realised just how much taller he was than you when he began to type something with his hands raised above you. 

“Here. My number and I rang it to have yours. Call me when you’re done reading, I expect to get my comic back soon enough.” He held your hand and plopped your phone in it, while you remained frozen at his bold moves. Even the blonde next to him was surprised at his actions, that probably said a lot to you. 

He swung his arm around Jay who had an amused grin as he shook his head, waving bye to you, pausing for a moment when he realized something as he looked back at you.

“What’s your name?” 

“Uh-oh um,” You were still in a trance at what just happened as you said your name, not as confidently as you wished and you cursed yourself mentally for already being so hung up on his actions. 

He repeated it as if testing it out, “See you soon then,” He grinned at you as you just chose to wave back, thinking you might just say something stupid. 

Looking down at your phone, you saw his number and back at the comic book that laid on the desk, you grinned bashfully, shaking your head as you laughed.

Maybe just maybe, Park Sunghoon wouldn't have to wait until you finished the comic for you to see him. 

all written works as well as images and edits (unless credited) belong to pri. do not plagiarise, repost, re-edit or claim as yours. pics mostly found on pinterest.

writingmeraki Ⓒ 2024

feedback is always appreciated 💌

links : main navi ! | enhypen masterlist !

[verysium]

how bllk boys would react when u draw them, could either be rlly good or rlly SHIT u choose idk (plz include barou and the itoshi bros) 😊😊😊 i love you and ur works, and the way u write the boys and ur content makes me laugh fr, one of my fave bllk authors mwjahaja 😓 have a great day, ily:3 and the icks post made me smile like all of ur posts do!

thank you so much anon ♡ this ask had me contemplating very seriously, so apologies if it's a bit late:

sae is definitely awestruck in some way, even if he doesn't immediately show it. i think i talked about this in a previous headcanon, but he has a deep-seated admiration for artists who can grasp abstract concepts because he himself cannot. he would be somewhat flattered if you drew him since he's never considered his own appearance to be particularly inspiring. would be appalled if you considered him your muse. like....why? to him, his looks aren't anything of importance (clearly he is blind.) would probably say your drawing was inaccurate but then hang it up by his nightstand so he can look at it every night before he goes to sleep. if you're a full-time artist, he probably keeps a little stash of your gifts in a small box beneath his bed. sometimes if he's having a bad day or he lost a game, he goes back and flips through them just to make himself feel better. secretly loves the way you draw his bangs and the little swoop you do in your signature.

kaiser corrects every single detail in your drawing. stands behind you and gives you little pointers here and there. he should have an 8-pack, not a 6-pack. his jawline isn't sharp enough in your initial sketch. poses shirtless in front of you so that way you can encapsulate the full extent of his sexiness. shows off your drawing to every living creature in existence. "isn't he handsome?" like...🙄 yeah, michael we know. he's probably the hardest to draw because of his tattoo, so i think he genuinely appreciates it when you put in the effort to capture his intricacies. will never admit this but he's low-key proud of you and your talent (mostly just your ability to make him look good.)

rin is one of those people who doesn't understand hyperrealism. like why does he need a highly detailed sketch of his face when he can just take a photo and print it out? i don't think he understands art in general. probably despises modern art too. he'd take one look at a rothko painting and be like....i could draw this too...in my sleep. similar to sae, i feel like he's just numb to the sentimentality of gift-giving. doesn't understand why you would waste your time drawing a little picture of him, but it does make his heart feel strangely fuzzier, so maybe he'll keep it this one time. lo and behold, months later he now has a collection of your drawings he doesn't have the heart to throw away. refuses to let isagi or anyone see them because they're meant for his eyes only.

yukimiya has impeccable taste. in fact, he's probably an artist himself. i think it'd be cute if you both drew little sketches of each other throughout the course of your relationship. but neither of you ever knew until you gifted him your sketchbook for christmas, and he was like....guess what...i drew you too. thinks you're pretty even when you don't think so. sometimes when you're having a coffee shop date, he scribbles a portrait of you on his napkin because the sunlight hit your cheek just right in that moment, and the birds were chirping, and he fell in love all over again. i think it's also tragic that he's slowly losing his eyesight, so he won't be able to enjoy your drawings and the vibrant colors you infuse into them. that's why he treasures them even more. probably thumbs over the pages from time to time. memorizes every stroke and line.

isagi likes the way you always draw that little tuft of hair that sticks up on the top of his head. it looks like a cute little bean sprout. he pins your drawings up above his bed next to a polaroid of you two in germany. buys you a professional art set for your birthday. if you're a digital artist, he buys you a new tablet and stylus.

bachira adds his own doodles next to yours except he makes a chibi version of everything. always pesters you to include his little fangs. uses the boldest combination of colors. he would definitely be a messy artist. paint everywhere. fingernails perpetually stained a different color. you both draw during class, so when you two trade notebooks to actually study......there aren't any actual notes.

barou acts like he doesn't know what to do with your drawing of him but then the next day you visit his house, and he's already put your artwork in a fancy picture frame. refuses to let anyone else even stand within a ten meter radius next to it because he doesn't want their "nasty fingerprints" all over your beautiful masterpiece.

[yerimacoustic]

𝙢𝙤𝙨𝙩 𝙖𝙧𝙙𝙚𝙣𝙩𝙡𝙮 ♡ jun x reader

❝ 𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙮 𝙨𝙚𝙘𝙤𝙣𝙙 𝙛𝙧𝙤𝙢 𝙣𝙤𝙬, 𝙞'𝙢 𝙜𝙤𝙣𝙣𝙖 𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙥𝙡𝙚𝙩𝙚𝙡𝙮 ❞

summary : you find a sense of familiarity in your sworn rival, jun, while exchanging anonymous letters with a stranger .

content warnings : jun x female reader, regency era au, merchant!jun x bookstore owner!reader, mostly inspired by you’ve got mail, slow burn, frenemies to lovers, banter, misunderstanding, featuring jeonghan, wonwoo, karina and joy, yearning, kissing, sfw. 10.7k wc.

more notes : i finally got this out after weeks and weeks.. honestly i’m not sure if i love this, we’ll see how long it lasts 😭 not proofread. may make edits now & then. mostly historically inaccurate probably but we’re going with the vibes

the walk to the post office was not tedious by any means. not when the promise of a new response in the form of a handwritten letter prompted you to move quickly and lightly on your feet. it had become a weekly routine, early morning strolls to the post house, as well as an awfully great way to start the week. 

the postmaster, otherwise known as your childhood friend, jeonghan, stood completely still behind the main counter with his arms folded across his chest. there was a knowing, mischievous glint in his eyes as he watched you quietly shut the door; he had been expecting you. just like he expected you every monday morning. 

it wasn’t long before the brunette pulled a small envelope from the series of shelves behind him, gently dropping it onto the counter between the two of you. “here you go. your gentleman’s love letter awaits.”

“good day to you too, mr. yoon,” you teased him and grabbed the envelope, taking note of the familiar wax seal in the front. a neat scarlet red circle with a lion in the center- the familiar sight always managed to bring a smile to your face. 

“hopefully he gives you some more clues as to his identity this week?” he called out to you as he strode across the tiny shop in favor of sweeping the floor. a look of feigned disappointment washed over his features as the sound of the bristles scratching across the floor and the envelope ripping open filled in the silence. “...perhaps not.”

just as your lips parted, the door swung open to reveal jeonghan’s assistant, karina. from the moment her eyes were fixed on yours, a mischievous glint akin to jeonghan’s filled her irises. “i thought i might find you here today. what news from the mysterious suitor?”

you shook your head before gesturing towards jeonghan, “i haven’t had the opportunity to read it yet. someone’s made sure of that.”

the man laughed from across the room, “it was never my attempt to keep you from reading it. i only wish that the two of you would at least give each other some hints as to who you really are.”

karina nodded in understanding before turning her back in favor of hanging her overcoat upon the rack near the entrance. “i hate to level with jeonghan in this case, but i’m curious about this mystery man, as well. have the two of you ever discussed meeting in person?”

“no, not at all. we’ve agreed to stay anonymous,” you explained as your fingers curled around the envelope in an almost protective grip. force of habit. “we know the risks but.. it’s quite refreshing, having someone to talk to without any of the societal pressures.” 

before too long, jeonghan had finished tidying up and joined the two of you near the entrance. “i don’t understand. you both are clearly fond of each other..”

“who said anything about-”

“and you have a lot in common,” jeonghan mused, eyebrows raised. “in your next response, you should ask him something personal. ask him about his occupation.”

without skipping a beat, you shook your head in protest. “thank you for your unsolicited advice, jeonghan, but i know everything i need to know about this man. good day, my friends.”

you waved goodbye to the inseparable pair, stepping towards the small door. of course jeonghan, who always had to have the last word, called out to you before you could shut it completely, “except for his true identity!”

his words prompted your lips to twist into a smirk as you finally found the right opportunity to open the letter. as you unfolded the piece of parchment, your smirk slowly dissolved into a genuine smile, finding beautiful familiarity in the cursive penmanship. as you took cautious steps on the beaten path, you read the letter carefully:

‘this weekend i had the pleasure of accompanying my cousins as they vacationed in the countryside. they rent a small cottage near the ocean during the summertime and haven’t bothered to invite me until this year. i wish you could have seen it; it was perfectly quaint and tranquil. we spent all but the entirety of the seventy two hours walking along the beach and hunting for seashells. a bit of a juvenile hobby, i know.

i’m not sure where this inkling comes from, but something tells me you enjoy the oceanside. i bet you keep a collection of shells and pearls hidden somewhere in your home. or perhaps you proudly display them for your visitors to see. next time they permit me to join them near the beach again, remind me to fill this envelope with shells to add to your collection. 

i know summer is your favorite holiday, and with that being said, i hope you find enjoyment in the final days of the season. take a stroll along the gardens or picnic with some of your friends. 

take some time for yourself, my friend.’ 

–

jun waited three days for a reply, just as he did every week. he and his anonymous friend had fallen into a pattern of consistency, each of them sending a letter out to the other person once a week. even if he knew he could count on whoever this person was to send a timely response, his nerves got the best of him every time. the potential tone of the response occupied his thoughts at all times, keeping him up at night, keeping him from focusing intently on his work. 

this week it reached the point where he had to turn his chair around to face the window, hoping that the sight of the rolling hills and graying sky outside would clear his mind. summer seemed to come to an end as quickly as it had begun, the entire season passing by in the blink of an eye. he counted his blessings, realizing that he was indeed lucky to have at least one holiday during the season. even if it was at the very end.. 

a knock on the door pulled him out of his trance and he turned his chair back to rest in the proper position, tucked tightly under his desk. “come in,” he called out.

barely a minute had passed before jun’s personal assistant and lifelong friend, wonwoo, closed the door quietly behind him and strode towards his desk with an envelope in hand. “your mystery woman sends her compliments,” he mused, handing the letter to jun. 

jun’s eyes went wide. “you mean- you saw her??”

wonwoo shook his head, holding back an amused smirk as he watched the disappointment wash over jun’s features in real time. “no. my apologies.”

jun sighed, “just as well, i suppose. god only knows what chaos would unravel if anyone else in the household saw her.” 

wonwoo nodded stiffly, folding his hands behind his back. “right you are. maybe there is practicality in anonymity, after all.”

“still, i can’t help but wonder what she’s really like in person,” jun mused, leaning back in his large leather chair with his chin cupped between his thumb and index finger. “there are so many habits and manners of hers i don’t even know about. she could be.. much lovelier in person.”

the bespectacled man tilted his head, taking a completely different approach, “or she could be ill-favored and poorly mannered.” the quiet statement was enough to pull jun out of his daze, causing him to furrow his eyebrows in annoyance. “my apologies.”

“there is no possible way someone who writes so beautifully is as ill favored as you say.” jun disregarded the man in front of him as he began to tear the seal off of the envelope, a silent command for wonwoo to leave him alone. conveniently enough, the door gently slammed shut once jun finally unfolded the small sheet of parchment. 

‘i am delighted to hear that you were able to enjoy the last remaining hours of the season with your family. the ocean sounds delightful. your suspicion of my enjoyment of seashells and pearls is a fair assumption, although, i gave up collecting a long time ago. hopefully you invest more stock in your collections than i did.

i’m afraid that i have no plans to take my leave before autumn begins as i’ve been much too busy. i don’t mind keeping an occupied schedule; it takes my mind off things and prevents me from overthinking. especially when i get the pleasure of meeting several people from different walks of life on a daily basis.

i know i say this every week, but it is always a pleasure receiving your letters. sometimes i can’t believe that we met through an anonymous literary discussion group. i’ve received a handful of letters from other attendees, but allow me to say that the discussions are utterly mundane compared to our conversations. it feels like i write to a friend i’ve known for years.

i eagerly await your reply, dear friend.   

jun folded the letter and tilted his head back in contemplation, just as he did every time he read one of your letters. the term of endearment the two of you shared always stuck out to him- ‘dear friend.’ as much as he enjoyed reading it at the end of every letter, a small part of him wished that there was a better word to describe how he felt towards you. 

how he truly felt towards you was a mystery in and of itself. he valued your time and your relationship, he thought very highly of you.. but there were several complications that interfered.

as if on demand, one of the complications walked through the door without bothering to knock. joy, the daughter of the second wealthiest merchant in town and jun’s fiance strode towards his desk with confidence and charm. meanwhile, wonwoo stood by the door, stoic as ever as he occupied the room in favor of serving as a chaperone. he sent an apologetic glance in his friend’s direction, which jun quickly disregarded.

“still cooped away in this gloomy room, are you?” joy asked rhetorically. “oh dear, what ever is the matter?” 

jun had completely forgotten to mask his confusion-fueled anxiety when she walked through the door. he shook his head in quick denial, his gaze softening as he allowed himself a better look at his fiance. “nothing,” he replied shortly and offered her a smile. “what brings you here?”

“i’ve come to ensure you’re still planning on attending the charity auction,” joy replied with an infectious grin. she gently picked up one of his paperweights, a sculpture of hand blown glass decorated with stained petals of lavender.  

“oh dear- was that tonight?” jun grimaced, moving both hands to rub at his temples. the thought of socializing with anyone else that night in particular sounded like a nightmare, even if there was the possibility of making important new connections. maybe he had returned from his holiday much too soon.  

disappointment washed over joy’s features, prompting her eyebrows to furrow and her lips to curl with a frown. “don’t tell me you forgot.”   

“my apologies, darling- i’ve been so caught up with the upcoming shipments that it must have slipped my mind,” jun explained to her with a delicate tone of voice as he rose to his feet. the last thing he wanted was to convey his reluctance to attend the modest party with her. 

she smiled faintly, allowing jun to take both of her hands in his. “i understand that you must have a lot to catch up on after returning from your vacation. perhaps we shouldn’t go.”

“no-” jun gently protested and squeezed her hands. “i want to go.” 

jun witnessed his intended’s smile brighten in real time, the rest of her features noticeably lighting up once he agreed to make good on his promise. she mused, “splendid. i look forward to it.”

joy began to lean in with the intention to press a gentle kiss against jun’s cheek- however, he was quick to tilt his head back. just as an inquisitive gaze filled joy’s irises, jun tilted his head subtly towards their chaperone, who was standing against the wall with his arms folded across his chest and a knowing smirk tugging at his lips. right. 

just then, joy let out a sheepish chuckle and settled for allowing jun to press a chaste kiss against her knuckles. “i will ask for the carriage around seven,” he told her, letting go of her hands and letting his own fall to his sides. “until then.”

“good day.” joy curtsied to him and bowed her head politely towards wonwoo as she left the room in a hurried pace, excitement getting the best of her. she loved parties, no matter the occasion; one of the many subjects where she and jun didn’t see eye to eye.   

he clearly did a terrible job at disguising his disdain, for wonwoo was quick to approach the merchant’s side and pat his shoulder in feigned reassurance. “think of it this way,” he mused. “tonight, you may find someone you will actually enjoy talking to.”

“i appreciate your optimism, wonwoo, but i highly doubt that.”

—----

you must have reorganized the tiny bags of tea arrangements twenty times by now, ensuring that they were neatly stacked up against each other. as for the stacks of books on the other side of your booth, that was an entirely different story. you couldn’t come to terms with an arrangement you completely approved of and suddenly wished you hadn’t previously neglected the bookends. 

karina noticed your frantic effort to neatly organize the rest of the books and shook her head with affection as she placed a hand over yours. “everything looks perfect, i promise,” she reassured you. “besides, no one will come to your booth if it appears as though you’re still cleaning things up.” 

“perhaps you’re right,” you sighed just before the two of you sat down on the stools you’d been provided. silence filled the air between you and your good friend as the two of you watched the patrons circle around the rest of the booths, pausing to get a better look at the products provided by other vendors. you felt somewhat insecure while taking note of your neighbors’ products and wondered if you should have thought outside of the box. 

but this was an important, extremely personal matter at hand for you: the library you had grown up visiting every weekend was on the brink of closing down. you presented the idea of a fundraiser to the esteemed owner, strings were pulled, and the rest of the puzzle pieces fell into place. you only wished you had more time to come up with a better product to sell.

at least your fellow vendors seemed to be pulling their weight.

among the sea of clientele was a tall, smartly dressed man with dark, wavy hair. the man walked along the rows of tables with his hands folded behind his back, studying each individual booth a bit too theatrically for your liking. he took slow, somewhat deliberate strides that left onlookers on the edge of their seat. but something about the way he carried himself, his dress, told you that he could invest a great deal of money into a great cause if he cared to. 

karina left you alone, promising to purchase some cookies from a nearby vendor for the two of you. being alone with your thoughts at a time like this was less than ideal, considering customers were scarce. of course. you should have known no one would want to buy homemade tea sachets..

before too long the mysterious, smartly dressed man was nearing your booth. you straightened out your shoulders, rising to your feet and plastering the brightest smile you could muster as he approached you. “good evening,” you greeted him, a tad louder than you intended to, “could i interest you in some tea sachets? or perhaps- limited editions of some of my favorite collective works?”

the man stopped, picking up one of the tiny bags in his hand and raising an eyebrow inquisitively. “perhaps. what flavor are these?”

“ah yes, its black tea leaves mixed with brown sugar and vanilla bean,” you replied proudly. “i assembled them myself.”

he placed the sachet back on the table, ensuring that it was neatly lined up with the rest before looking past your shoulder. you could have sworn you detected a hint of distaste in your eyes as his eyes scanned through the stacks of books, but he stepped closer to your collection. “do you enjoy reading george eliot’s works?” he asked.

“well- no, not particularly.”

the man nodded his head once, his eyes lighting up in understanding. “ah. trying to get rid of some extra books, are you?” 

you furrowed your eyebrows, stunned. “no.. i assure you, sir, that’s not the case.” perhaps the words left your lips in a much more defensive tone than you intended, but the realization came too late. “i’m simply making much needed sacrifices for a worthy cause.”

the stranger let out an amused chuckle, “trust me, i did not mean to insult you. i was merely curious.”

“right... forgive me for overreacting,” you sighed, feeling unconvinced despite his reassurance. “everyone around me seems to have valuable things to offer for this event but.. here i am, selling dusty old books and tea leaves. i suppose i felt-”

“threatened?” he finished, cocking a brow. 

you lifted your chin up, maintaining a friendly but somewhat hesitant grin. “yes, i suppose i felt threatened.”

the man in front of you bowed his head to take a closer look at your merchandise. in any other circumstance, he wouldn’t be caught dead purchasing tea or even drinking it, and he already had most of the books she was trying to sell. however, he lifted his chin to meet your gaze, “i’ll take the lot.”

you paused, utterly stunned. “please, sir, don’t feel the need to humor me or my grievances-”

he cut you off with a gentle laugh, one that you found far too sweet and angelic, “i’m not. i’m simply contributing to a worthy cause, as you stated earlier.”

the stiffness in your shoulders and spine that appeared upon receiving his offer would not disappear. you chuckled, hoping to ease the tension, “well.. if you insist. how generous of you.”

a smirk crept upon his lips just as he bowed his head again, looking through his jacket pockets for his leather bound wallet. “don’t mention it,” he mused, totaling the sum and pulling the bills out of his collection accordingly. “although- i feel like i should, at the very least, know the name of the person i’ve given a large sum of my savings to.”

you chuckled and took the money from him, your fingers brushing over his palm fleetingly. “y/n,” you replied. “although, now is probably a good time to tell you that all of my earnings are going towards funding the library.”

his eyes widened, and it was probably the most he’d done to showcase his emotions in the entirety of your exchange. “how noble of you.”

“it's for an important cause. important to me, at least.” you shrugged. “do i get to know the name of my generous donor?”

he chuckled, finally allowing his timid smile to reach his eyes in the meantime, “jun. pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

“the pleasure is all mine,” you mused with another faint chuckle. 

just as you had finished preparing his bags with all of the books and tea sachets he had taken off your hands, a woman with long, gently waved hair and a bright smile joined his side. her eyes went wide as she linked her arm around his own and took in all of his new belongings. “darling! i hope you weren’t planning on spending your entire fortune tonight.”

jun let out a sheepish chuckle, which was accompanied by another grin that barely reached the corners of his eyes. he replied somewhat flatly, “no dear, i assure you, that’s not the case. i’m simply helping a friend.”

the woman’s small, unconvinced laugh briefly broke the awkward silence before she spoke up again, “my father’s here. he wishes to discuss some urgent matters with you.”

jun nodded in understanding, almost as if to disguise his annoyance. before he could allow the young woman to pull him away, however, he nodded in your direction, “it was a pleasure to meet you. have a splendid evening.” 

you bowed your head in gratitude, although it served as a perfect method of hiding your growing smile. “i won’t forget your kindness. good evening.”

somehow, you were able to steal a glance at the singular ring adorning the woman’s left hand. judging by the rather impressive diamond and the glow that she wore so proudly, you were willing to bet that the two of them were engaged. you were also willing to wager that the tall man the two of them were now face to face with was her father.

you recognized him immediately; he was one of the wealthiest men in the city. if not the entire state. your mysterious benefactor must be a man of circumstance if he was betrothed to someone like the daughter of one of the most notorious merchants. as you took note of the blank expression adorned by jun and joy’s growing smile, you suddenly wished you were gifted with the ability to read lips…

when karina returned with small bags of the desserts in both hands, her eyes went wide upon taking in the sigh of your now empty booth. “oh my! i take my leave for two seconds and you manage to clear the entire booth out,” she chuckled, handing you the small bag of goodies.

you chuckled, “i suppose father was wrong; airing out grievances to anyone who may listen does have its benefits.”

“perhaps,” karina chuckled along with you. “tell me, how many customers managed to buy the entirety of your possessions in the short amount of time i was gone?”  

“just one,” you replied with a smirk, gesturing towards the man in question. jun stood awkwardly in front of his future father-in-law with the two large bags still in both hands. 

karina’s eyes went wide, “ah, the notorious mr. wen junhui. i must say, i am pleasantly surprised he even purchased anything tonight, let alone the entirety of your collection.”

you furrowed your eyebrows. “you know of him?”

karina chuckled, eyebrows raised to display her disbelief. “you don’t?” she countered. “he’s only the son of the wealthiest merchant in town. he plans to take full ownership of his father’s company by the end of the year.”

“then what is he doing here?” you wondered out loud, puzzled by karina’s revelation. you suddenly grew conflicted, reflecting upon his generous donation. was there a genuine desire to assist you in bringing about a change that was important to you or did he simply see your business as an opportunity to potentially ensure his own financial gain later on?

she shrugged, “i would assume he and his fiance are here to invest in some new partnerships.”

you furrowed your eyebrows as karina voiced your suspicions. “now who would make such…calculated moves at a time like this? my stars, this is a charity auction.”

“someone who only looks out for themselves, i suppose,” karina sighed. she placed a hand on your back and offered you a reassuring smile. “well.. i believe our work here is done. i propose we take our desserts and go on our way after a job well done.”

you laughed lightly, “i would be delighted.” 

the two of you passed by the couple as you made your way to the exit, jun’s eyes wandering to inevitably meet yours. he offered you a gentle smile, one that his fiance had just barely missed, prompting you to bow your head politely in return. for whatever complicated reason, you held onto the hope that you would never see that man again.  

—--------------------------- 

do you ever wonder what would become of your future if you had chosen a different path? or if, perhaps, the fates had a different idea for your livelihood? 

i don’t attempt to deny how lucky and blessed i’ve been- i have indeed lived a happy, comfortable life since i was a child. without going into too many details (as per our agreement), i would say that my life is very fortunate. but the more i take part in strenuous business meetings with my father and his partners, the more i wonder if there’s something wonderful i’ve been missing out on. 

i blame my newfound existential dread on the holiday i took part in with my cousins. not one of us had a care in the world for an entire weekend, and i daresay it was the longest period of time in which i felt no stress at all. this exchange of letters also provides me with much needed reprieve.   

i don’t want the entirety of this letter to fill you with melancholy so allow me to say this- there is a pastry shop near my estate that has the most delicious custard pies. if you ever find your way in that corner of town, let’s both hope i’ll be there at the same time. just out of coincidence, of course.

i hope to hear from you soon, dear friend.

you folded the piece of parchment in half and pushed it aside, feeling butterflies begin to take flight in your stomach. the two of you had never spoken about meeting in person, agreeing to keep your relationship confined to exchanging letters. of course, you would be lying if you said that the thought hadn’t crossed your mind on several occasions..

you haphazardly stuffed the letter in your pocket as the door to your quaint bookstore opened and jun shuffled in. he went wide eyed as he saw you stand behind the front counter, appearing to be on edge. 

even so, he greeted you with a smile of pleasant surprise, “oh..! i didn’t realize you worked here.”

you chuckled, still trying to ignore your racing heartbeat. “my father owns this store,” you explained somewhat flatly. “is there something i can help you with?”

“no, not at all. just taking a look.” a brief smile was sent your way before jun started wandering through the shop floor with his hands folded behind his back. you were reminded of the way he strode towards the booths in the library when the two of you first met, merely twenty hours beforehand. and just like before, it brought upon a sense of uneasiness. 

he stopped near a table in the corner of the room, where a stack of books was accompanied by candles set on top of intricate sticks, a woven tablecloth, and a small circle of.. seashells? 

he kept trying to tell himself that it was most likely just a coincidence, but he felt compelled to ask, “these shells add a nice touch. do you enjoy collecting?”

you perked up, gently shaking your head. “no, not particularly. i’m not sure why i even put them there; it’s not like the shop has a nautical theme..”

“they’re rather nice,” he remarked, gently cutting you off. he grinned knowingly as he continued to look through the shelves, studying the contents. “i must say, you have quite the impressive collection.”

“do you speak of my collection of books? or seashells?” you teased him.

he chuckled, “both, i suppose.. beaded periwinkles were always my favorite. i couldn’t help but notice it seems we both hold them in high regard.”

as he tilted his head back towards the small desk in the corner of the room, you’d only then noticed how many of that particular brand of shells you actually possessed. “i suppose great minds really do think alike,” you remarked. “but i’m sure you aren’t here to talk about seashells.” 

it appeared to jun as though you were eager to help him with another purchase, however, it couldn’t be further from the truth. mentally, you were crafting another response to your mysterious friend- actually, would it be appropriate to start calling him your suitor? 

either way, he noticed the hastiness in your tone and chuckled, “right. to tell the truth, i’ve been meaning to take a look at this shop for some time now. i think i could propose a business venture that would benefit you and your father greatly.” 

you raised an eyebrow and asked him in a gentle tone, “and what, pray tell, makes you think either one of us would be interested in a partnership with you?”

he stopped his pacing so he was standing directly in front of you, the front counter creating a fair amount of space. “i seek partial ownership of the shop. if you allow me to make a few adjustments to the building, i guarantee you it will bring in more customers and, eventually, more revenue for the two of us.”

you furrowed your eyebrows, taken aback by his words. “i don’t know if it escaped your notice, but my father is not here. he won’t be for another fortnight, at the very least.” you paused. “but if he was, i can guarantee you he would be mortified by your offer.”

jun mirrored your expression, cocking his head to the side in confusion. “i beg your pardon?”

“my father built this shop by himself and has been working his entire life to pay off his debts. every inch of this place holds sentimental value, i won’t have anyone making alterations for their own benefit.”

he nodded once, “that’s.. understandable. but you lead me to believe you’ve completely forgotten the definition of the word ‘partnership.’ it benefits the two of us equally.”

you furrowed your eyebrows, snapping, “please, sir- do not condescend to me.”

“my apologies,” he mused, taking a step to meet you around the counter. “but allow me to understand your line of thinking- you won’t accept an equal partnership from me, but you will accept a generous donation.” 

“need i remind you, the entirety of that donation went into funding the public library,” you protested while doing your best not to raise your voice. “and i now know fully well your true intentions behind that ‘generous donation’ of yours. 

“allow me to reiterate- while i most certainly do not speak for my father, i cannot guarantee his interest in your offer.”

he bowed his head with a knowing grin, “allow me to say i’m certain that your father recognizes a great offer when he sees one. i will speak with him in a fortnight.”

“i-” you stuttered, watching him step towards the door.

“i bid you good day, madam.”

—

my dearest, please do not feel any sense of guilt for simply conveying your true feelings. i will not lie to you, i think about all sorts of different paths i may walk in some sort of alternate universe. for example, maybe in another life, we do more than simply write letters to each other. maybe we take walks together or converse over custard pies.

even so, i hope you find a way to make peace with your business partners and yourself. and i really do hope you find what you’re looking for. please allow yourself to take more holidays with friends and family members whenever you can. personally, i find that even something as simple as a walk through the park on a chilled afternoon soothes the spirits.

i hope you reach this letter in time, but i have been craving a good custard pie. i thank you for your recommendation and hope to see you there on saturday around midday. purely out of coincidence, of course.

best wishes and goodbye for now, my dearest. 

“my dearest?” jun read out loud incredulously. he was so used to the mysterious writing partner holding him in a more platonic regard. he found himself helplessly staring at the term of endearment, the way she wrote it…

“i see the two of you are now using more personal terms of endearment,” wonwoo observed, a smirk tugging at his lips as he watched jun from across the room.

jun placed the letter in a drawer filled nearly to the brim with the rest of his letters, carefully slamming it shut. “wonwoo… cease your teasing remarks for once and instead tell me what to do.”

wonwoo stepped closer, sitting comfortably near jun’s desk with his hands folded on his lap. “regarding this mystery woman of yours?”

jun nodded with a heavy sigh, which of course, puzzled wonwoo greatly. usually, he was in a brief state of merriment after reading one of your letters- but the way he clenched his jaw and stared at the patterns on his desk in contemplation said otherwise. “i find myself… conflicted. you see, in my last letter, i left something of an.. invitation for her.”

“an invitation?” wonwoo cocked an eyebrow.

jun shifted slightly in his seat, crossing his legs as he expected the worse reaction from wonwoo imaginable. “indeed. and she has taken it upon herself to arrange a meeting place and a time.”

instead of scolding him, however, wonwoo nodded, his confusion still evident. “then.. why are you feeling conflicted, as you say?” 

“for a number of reasons, i suppose,” jun sighed. “the first reason being that i’m.. confused, to say the least, about my feelings for her. they are strong, whatever they are- i hold her in the highest regard.. and yet i wonder if we made a mistake staying anonymous.”

wonwoo leaned forward, letting his chin rest in his palm. “you mean to say.. you’re worried there’s something you don’t know about her? something you might not like once you meet her in person?”

“well..yes, i suppose. not to mention there is the matter of my engagement-”

“your arranged engagement-” wonwoo chimed in. 

jun paused, drawing in a shaky breath. “precisely.” he rose to his feet, pacing the floor behind his desk and cupping his chin between his thumb and index finger. “my arranged engagement.. that i’ve been second guessing since the day the two of us were made aware of it.”

wonwoo nodded, signaling his understanding. “well.. i suppose the only way to find out if there’s something about her that you don’t exactly ‘like’ is to follow through with this meeting. maybe you won’t come face to face with previously unknown attributes of her personality right away, but the first step is always the most important.

“it seems to me that you have a lot of feelings to work through.. with her. maybe you should write them all down.”

jun furrowed his eyebrows. “you mean- write them down and.. read them to her?”

“why not?” wonwoo countered in a gentle tone, rising to his feet and crossing to the door with his hands folded behind his back. “you have no issue writing seemingly heartfelt letters to her once a week. how would this be any different?”

before jun could answer his friend’s question, he was left alone to stew in the complicated question. as per usual, wonwoo brought upon an excellent idea- one that he hated to consider taking seriously. and with a heavy sigh of disdain and shaky hands, he sat back at his desk and began to write. 

—--

“are you sure about this?” karina asked you for what felt like the millionth time, tying the ribbons of your hat together. she stepped back to take a better look at the modest lavender dress you had purchased for this specific occasion, immediately grinning. it was his favorite color; you’d known that since the two of you met through the literary discussing group.

“honestly, karina… i’ve never been more sure about anything in my entire life,” you replied, taking a deep breath as you held one of your suitor’s letters in hand. it wasn’t just any letter, however- it was one of your favorite ones he’d gifted you. “i just wish i’d prepared something beautiful to say to him..”

“just.. speak from the heart,” your friend advised. “it works every time.”

you laughed, “are you quite sure about that?” 

“we’re wasting time!” she laughed and gently swatted at your upper arm. “go on, meet your wonderful suitor.”

before too long, karina carefully shoved you out the door with no intention of allowing you back into the shop. you didn’t look back, not even once, striding confidently towards the bakery. you could practically hear your heartbeat echoing in your ears as you finally walked through the door, a loud bell startling you on the way in. 

you didn’t know whether or not to call it irony, but you felt your appetite leave you abruptly while sitting comfortably in the corner of the room. you stared down at the envelope, which was still in your shaking hands, unable to continue watching the entry door in suspense. 

a timid tap on your shoulder snapped you out of your daze. you whipped your head back to see jun standing behind you with a growing smirk, the sight causing you to let out a huff in disappointment. he responded by snickering, “lovely to see you too, madam.”

you stuffed the letter in your jacket pocket, sighing, “what are you doing here?” 

he pondered your question with that all too familiar smirk of amusement, mirroring your actions and folding a small, leather bound book in his inner jacket pocket. “am i not allowed to take time off work to purchase some desserts?” 

“that’s not what i said,” you sighed just before he pulled out the chair across from you, prompting you to raise your hand in protest. “please, don’t- i’m waiting for someone.”

you tried not to think anything of the way jun paused, his dark eyes widening. “may i inquire as to who? a friend? an acquaintance? perhaps a suitor- i am more than happy to serve as a chaperone, if need be.”

“that will not be necessary, thank you kindly,” you chuckled without any sense of amusement in your tone. “we are not courting. not that i have to explain the circumstances of our relationship to you, of all people.”

despite your protests, jun sat across from you as his smirk grew into a beam. “what kind of suitor is he, i wonder? a lord? or a baron?”

“sir, i would thank you not to patronize me. and so loudly, at that,” you whispered.

he laughed a little too loudly for your liking, his bright smile on full display, “forgive me, i do not mean to patronize you. i simply wish to know more about who my new friend has taken a liking to.”

you paused, signaling your disdain with a frown before leaning in and speaking in a hushed tone, “well, if you must know, the man i’m supposed to be meeting with is kind, funny, and has an aptitude for reflection and study. he’s completely unlike you in every sense of the word.”

“is he really?” jun asked, taking genuine offense from your words. he drew back in his seat, eyebrows knitting together. 

you nodded with such blatant certainty that prompted jun to frown, delicate as the expression was. “indeed. he walks through life with radiant optimism and recognizes the value of literary classics. you, however, view such precious works of art as yet another method of personal financial gain. and i feel sorry for you.”

tension filled the air as jun grew silent, visibly stunned by your words. “forgive me for not telling you everything about my line of work upfront, but i’m not just in the business for the money. you see- i’ve already read the entire collection i’ve purchased from you. a long, long time ago, actually.” 

you could have sworn your heart stopped beating completely in your chest- maybe you had been a little too harsh with this man. you timidly asked, “and you’ve.. enjoyed all of them?”

“i don’t think there’s a word strong enough to describe my.. idolization towards the authors. especially dickens.” he paused, rising to his feet. “i feel as though he explores themes of human relationships better than any author i know of. the idea that someone can find redemption and mend even the worst wounds within said relationships..”

he paused once again, leaving you to ponder his annoyingly profound statement with furrowed eyebrows. just as you parted your lips to offer an apology, or even to ask him to elaborate, he spoke up again, “i do hope that one day, you will hold me to a higher regard. that one day, you will see me in the same positive light you see this stranger who clearly did not even bother to meet with you in a timely manner. i bid you good day.”

you felt your cheeks go cold as you watched him turn towards the door, your voice slightly raising, “jun, wait-”

much to your surprise, he faced you completely and offered you a sad smile, “that’s a lovely color on you, by the way.”

you furrowed your eyebrows, clearly caught off guard by his abrupt compliment. “sorry?”

“lavender. it’s a lovely color on you.” and as he let the beautiful, heartbreaking compliment fill in the tension between you, he nodded his head in farwell and turned his back on you for the last time. that afternoon, at least.

you leaned back in your seat as the bell signaled his disappearance. you felt as though there was a lot to unpack from your exchange- clearly you had misjudged jun. clearly, he was well read and you had rudely assumed that he wasn’t. you thought you had better character than that- but clearly, jun wasn’t the only one you had misjudged.

then there was the matter of his unexpected compliment- try as you might, you couldn’t stop repeating his line, his delivery over and over again in your mind. the way the word lavender rolled off of his tongue with ease- was there a possibility he knew that you had chosen to wear that color on purpose?

no- that couldn’t be possible. at least, that was what you kept repeating to yourself non verbally as jun took his leave. 

meanwhile, the man in question kicked at loose rocks on the pavement while trying to avoid wonwoo’s gaze. the younger man had accompanied jun to offer him moral support and was stunned to see the meeting ending so soon. he pushed off of the bench where he’d been quietly reading, rushing to the other man’s side.

“jun, what’s happened? why are you leaving so soon?” he demanded.

jun shook his head, refusing to meet wonwoo’s gaze. he told him pointedly, “this was a mistake. i never should have made that offer to her.. wonwoo, what was i thinking?”  

wonwoo grabbed his friend’s upper arm, stopping him from taking another step forward. “what do you mean, ‘it was a mistake?’ you were in there for less than five minutes, what could possibly go wrong in that short amount of time?”

he finally held his chin high, his eyes meeting wonwoo’s albeit reluctantly. he folded his arms across his chest as he took another look at the bakery he vowed never to set foot in again. “i saw her,” he muttered. 

wonwoo furrowed his eyebrows, his impatience getting the best of him. “...and what became of it?” 

“let’s just say if she knew who i truly was, she would regret joining that literary discussion group in the first place,” jun bowed his head, watching the dust settle around two pairs of shiny black shoes as he kicked another set of loose rocks. 

the confusion visibly melted away from wonwoo’s features within a matter of seconds. “i see…” he mused. when jun refused to speak again, the stunning reality of the situation circling around him like a dark cloud, he lightly scoffed. “and there’s not even a small part of you that’s willing to talk with her, explain yourself?”

jun shook his head, “trust me, there is no getting through to her.”

“how can you be so sure?” he snapped. wonwoo rarely ever raised his voice; whenever he did, however, jun was always taken aback. 

“because i know her!” jun exclaimed. he paused, hoping to steady his racing heartbeat. “and i have known her for almost a year now. i know about things she hasn’t told anyone else, her innermost thoughts, philosophies, desires.. which is why i know for certain that she would never stoop so low to even entertain the idea of courting someone like me.” 

“‘someone like you?’” wonwoo repeated incredulously. “you’re being ridiculous. get back in there and set the record straight, i insist- no i demand it.”

jun yanked his arm out of wonwoo’s grip. “you cannot order me to do anything.”

wonwoo smirked, clearly finding amusement in the situation. who could blame him, as he was pushing jun’s relentlessly stiff, almost lifeless figure towards the bakery. “oh, but i am. i’ll be waiting right here for you when you’ve finished explaining yourself to her.”

“absolutely not. now let go of me,” he swerved to the right in order to avoid wonwoo pushing him again. 

“you’ve nothing to lose, now get back in there-”

“no!”

before too long, the men were all but wrestling on the dirt path. wonwoo was trying to push him towards the bakery while jun was practically leaping back and forth to avoid even a mere graze of his friend’s hand. any onlooker might have been frightened by their actions and guessed that they were engaged in a genuine scuffle. but neither of them retaliate with violence, of course.

neither of them were sure how much time had passed before the front door swung open, seungcheol emerging with a scowl, “hey! the two of you better get a move on and take your argument somewhere else.”

the simple warning was more than enough to pull the two men away from each other. as the two of them hunched their shoulders in embarrassment, jun turned his back on the store. as if it wasn’t enough to discover the woman of his dreams was actually the one who hated him, he made a fair assumption that he had been banned from the shop. 

wonwoo, seemingly unbothered by the shopowner’s warning, walked alongside his friend. his shoulder barely brushed along his with every step he took and much to his surprise, jun didn’t make any effort to stop the fleeting contact. “so.. what happens now?” the bespectacled man asked.

“what do you mean?” jun asked, his eyes fixed on the weeds growing along the path. 

“are you planning to stop writing to her? or are you formulating an excuse for ditching her?”

jun paused, taking another look at the shop behind him. he could just barely make out your figure in the small front window, waiting noticeably impatiently at the same table. “i have no idea.”

—--

dearest, i wish that i could provide you with a good excuse as to why i did not meet with you. i am positive there is nothing i could say that could excuse my ill mannered behavior, anyways. i hope you can find it within yourself to forgive me, although i am not so sure if i can ever forgive myself. if you no longer wish to write to me, i understand. i simply want you to know that nothing could ever change how highly i think of you. 

it was the shortest letter he had written. you read it once, committing it to memory over the next few weeks without generating a proper response.  

you couldn’t remember a time in your life when the sting of betrayal had so effectively wounded you. mundane tasks such as eating, drinking, even concentrating on the simplest tasks at the book shop became too much for you to handle. all that occupied your mind was the embarrassment you felt waiting hours for the ‘friend’ to show up, the way your heart sank when you realized he wouldn’t be coming at all, the way tears blurred your vision as you walked home..

or perhaps the realization that it was all a mistake, that you never should have engaged in writing letters with a stranger in the first place. you never should have allowed yourself to find such comfort in a stranger, someone who could have easily been saying just what you wanted to hear.  

usually, you weren’t one to shy away from your responsibilities at the shop, especially considering your father was still gone. but you allowed yourself to make one exception, given the nature of your heartbreak. besides, it was always your father who told you that a walk in the park could be soothing to both the mind and body.

in this case, it was a short walk around in the park before you came to a stop near the large pond. the sunbeams shining on the water pulled you deeper and deeper into a daze of content, providing temporary relief from your heartbreak. the leaves rustled in the wind, a crisp breeze in the air.. it was peaceful. 

obviously, a little too peaceful for fate’s liking. 

you averted jun’s gaze to the best of your ability as you watched him stroll up the hill, walking the same path you had just minutes ago. as much as you kept telling yourself that this meeting was nothing but a coincidence, a small voice in the back of your mind kept asking if it really was. 

inevitably, his eyes found yours and before you could rise to your feet to dash in the opposite direction, he was taking long strides to meet you in your newfound hiding place. you bowed your head, avoiding his gaze as he spoke, “what a coincidence. i didn’t think i’d see you around here.”

“is it really a coincidence?” you asked him, haughtiness in your tone. 

jun shrugged, taking a seat next to you on the cold grass. “usually i don’t find myself in this part of town but.. my line of work really takes a toll and someone told me recently that a walk through the park on a chilled afternoon soothes the spirits.”

you furrowed your eyebrows, your eyes still fixated on the patterns of your dress.. that phrase.. it was all too familiar. “wise words,” were the only two words you could muster.

he nodded, allowing uncomfortable silence to pass between the two of you and gazing at the pond. he waited for a moment before speaking again, his tone low, almost timid. “how was the meeting? with that friend of yours?” 

you paused, drawing in a sharp breath and fixing your posture in the same movement. “he never came.”

jun turned to look at you, taking a mental note of the pure, unapologetic expression of heartbreak you wore. your pouty lips, the darkness in your eyes.. “i am.. truly sorry to hear that.”

you screwed your eyes shut, fighting back any tears that dared to surface. it took a moment for you to collect yourself enough to speak without showcasing the warble in your voice, “i suppose it’s my own fault for putting my complete trust in someone.”

jun paused, her words echoing in his mind to the point he couldn’t focus on anything else. of course, he felt guilty for not immediately declaring who he truly was and staying at the shop with her. he regretted it from the moment he made the decision to leave her. once again, he found himself overwhelmed from the complications he was forced to face on a daily basis.

“i don’t think it was a mistake on your part,” he finally whispered to you, offering a gentle smile once your eyes met his. “clearly, there is only one person at fault here.”

you nodded, feeling unable to break away from his gaze at that moment. much to your surprise, you were glad that you didn’t immediately push him away upon seeing him stroll confidently through the park. because as much as you told yourself how much you disliked him and what he stood for, there was no denying he possessed a level of.. comfort.

you chuckled, the sadness unmistakeable in your tone. “i don’t think i can find it within myself to..blame him,” you mused. “i know it sounds silly, but.. i would rather blame myself. i keep trying to make excuses for him.”

jun gently furrowed his eyebrows as he processed your words. of course, his irises were still flooded with sympathy as he gazed at you, trying to come to terms with your line of thinking. “can i ask you a question?”

you were slightly caught off guard by his question but you nodded all the same. “go on.”

he allowed himself to look forward again, shifting a little bit to sit more comfortably on the lawn. his knee barely grazed against yours as you did so, the fleeting contact still sending a shockwave along your skin. your cheeks even heated up as his gaze found yours again and he spoke gently- 

“you jump through hoops to forgive this man for betraying your trust and yet.. you don’t seem to find it within yourself to forgive me for a simple misunderstanding. i just.. don’t understand why.”

once again, that familiar jab at your heart stunned you into silence. he brought up an excellent point; the moment you watched him leave the bakery, unforgettable guilt rushed over you like a tidal wave. seeing him sit next to you, remaining vulnerable with his emotions- it reminded you just of how much you had misjudged him. 

“i’ve been horrible to you,” you finally spoke. “and i want to apologize. i think.. this trip that my father’s been on has been something of a practice round for me. there will come a day when i’m running his store all by myself and..it might come sooner than later. and that terrifies me.”

“that’s completely understandable,” jun replied. “trust me, i’m convinced that if i make one wrong move, i will burn my father’s business, his entire legacy, to the ground. I’m terrified.”

the two of you shared a laugh, sorrowful as it was. as he kept the bashful smile plastered upon his lips, you couldn’t help but take a mental note of the way his eyes lit up as he did so. “i guess we’re more alike than i thought,” you confessed.

jun’s heart sank upon hearing your words. he longed to tell you the truth, to apologize for hurting you so deeply by ignoring you- but something held him back. a sneaking suspicion that this was neither the time nor the place. so he drew in a deep breath before his smile grew wider, “i guess we are.”

you chuckled, suddenly hyper aware of how close the two of you were sitting. however, it felt like the wrong time to bring up the impropriety of your situation, given the context. “but if it really means that much to you, i can arrange a meeting with you and my father once he returns.”

jun pondered your words, his arm grazing yours as he drew in another sharp breath. once again, the brief contact was enough to quicken your heart rate. “i would love nothing more than to work more closely with the two of you.. but please, don’t feel pressured to schedule the interview on my account.”

you chuckled, leaning back on the grass slightly and propping yourself up by your elbows. “on your account? it was your idea, was it not?” 

jun laughed in return before smiling down at you, “well.. yes, but you know what i mean. i don’t want you to humor me simply because you feel guilty. i want to meet with your father because the two of you genuinely want to work with me.”

“jun-” you started, taking a hold of his left hand. you anticipated feeling the cold sting of a wedding band on his finger, but there was none. you almost gasped in surprise, promising yourself you would ask him about it later. “i want to work with you. well- forgive me if i sound forward, but i want to do more than work with you. i want to spend more time with you.”

“you..do?”

“yes!” you laughed. “that is.. only if you want to, of course.”

“no, no, of course i do-” jun stuttered gently with a chuckle. “i’m just- i’m confused. you seemed to be pretty confident in your opinions of my character. and, well now..”

“i keep thinking about what you said..about mending relationships. and.. i want to mend ours. as i said before, it seems we have more in common than we might think. i want to get to the bottom of that.” 

“and i.” jun’s smile grew wider, the corners of his eyes gently wrinkling at the movement. he even mirrored your position, laying comfortably on the grass after ensuring no one was approaching. “i assume you’ve read austen’s works as well?”

you let out a dreamy sigh, earning a gentle laugh from jun in the process. “of course i have. pride and prejudice will always be one of my favorite works.”

“i should have expected as much from you,” jun teased, toying with a blade of grass he had plucked from the earth. he tied it in a few knots, shyly avoiding your gaze.

you laughed somewhat sheepishly as you watched his fingers toy with the blade of grass, feeling dazed. “and what is that supposed to mean?”

“there’s no shame in enjoying a good romance novel,” jun retorted, looking over to you. only then did you once again realize just how close you were now laying together, less than an inch of space between your shoulders and knees.

for a brief moment, it felt as if you forgot how to breathe. you didn’t dare allow your gaze to fall to his lips as you whispered, “is mr. wen junhui a secret avid fan of romance, then?”

“you could say that,” he replied, his tone growing lower than you’ve ever heard. it was all becoming too much for you to handle, the way the gentle breeze pulled his hair over his eyes, locked with yours, his lips gently parting. 

“can i ask you a personal question?” you finally spoke up, your voice lower than his.

“yes.”

“you used to wear a ring..” you started, unsure of how to go about your line of questioning.

he seemed to catch on, however, nodding his head once and drawing back a tiny bit from your figure. “i.. don’t want to think of everything as a business transaction. especially not marriage.” he let his hand rest near his side, inevitably brushing against your own. “my father wasn’t happy. or hers, for that matter. but i stand by my decision.”

you nodded in understanding. “i admire your courage. and i understand where you’re coming from, completely.” you found it within yourself to finally look away from him, drawing away from his godly features to instead look up at the graying sky. “if i ever marry, i want to be endlessly, hopelessly in love with him. without any hesitation or reservation.”

you caught him nodding in your peripheral vision, the smallest smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “i want to know the depths of someone’s soul. i want to savor every small moment with her..someone who fulfills me.” 

just then, it felt like a light bulb had finally flashed in jun’s mind; his feelings towards his anonymous writing partner lying next to him didn’t seem so complicated anymore. although he was nervous, wishing he could have waited for another moment to confess his truth to her, the small voice in his head was much too persistent. there truly was no time like the present.

with that being said, he pulled the small notebook out of his pocket. you recognized it instantly; it was the same one he carried with him in the bakery. he sat upright as he opened it, silently prompting you to do the same. before you could ask him what this was all about, he spoke in a low tone, “there’s.. something i’ve been meaning to tell you. well.. i didn’t know it was you specifically i would be addressing this to, but..”

“what is all of this about?” you chipped in.

a shaky hand brushed over the parchment before he began to quietly read, “my dearest friend, i’ve waited a long time for this moment. i cannot tell you how many times i’ve wrestled with the dilemma of asking to meet you in person-”

“wait-”

he took another deep breath before releasing it with a shaky sigh, “but now that we’re finally here, face to face, i have finally mustered enough courage to tell you how i truly feel about you.” but of course, in that moment, his actions betrayed his beautiful words. his heart rate increased, which in turn, affected his breathing. 

so you gently took the notebook from his shaking hands, offering him a gentle smile. you began to read his words aloud, prompting his cheeks to darken with a blush, “and the truth is, my dearest, that i have never felt so connected to someone in my entire life. i have told you things no one else knows. 

“in turn, although i feel like i know everything there is to know about you, i want to know more.” tears once again began to blur your vision, but you pressed on to the best of your ability. “writing this to you, i can’t believe i ever doubted, even for a second, how i truly felt about you. i can’t believe i had any reservations in telling you the truth in the first place.

“and if you don’t feel the same, that is per-”

jun was momentarily stunned when you fell abruptly silent. however, you had only stopped reading for two reasons: tears blurring your vision and falling down the worn parchment being one, while you also saw no need to read any further. 

you scooted closer until your knees brushed against his and reached your hand up to cup his cheek. “it..it really was you..” you whispered.

he rose his hand to cover your own, nodding bashfully. “it was,” he mused. “i know.. i know you must be so angry with me and- and.. confused, but i had to tell you. i couldn’t keep it hidden, i-”

just as a short chuckle escaped your lips, you quickly leaned in to silent him by pressing your lips against his. you felt him smile into your lips before returning the kiss, slowly molding his lips with yours. it was gentle, passionate, and it spoke much louder than words in that moment. 

when he broke away, his hand found yours and he laced his fingers with your own. as he gave your palm a tight squeeze, his eyes never left yours. “i’m sorry.. i should have told you sooner. much sooner..”

“i understand,” you gently cut him off, connecting your forehead with his. “i knew.. i knew that i was right not to blame you. i blame myself, i should have-”

jun immediately shook his head in protest, his other hand cupping your cheek. “no. i should have been forthright from the start. from the second i met you in person. it could have spared us both a lot of heartache.”

you laughed in agreement, “you are not wrong… what if we made an agreement, that from this moment forward, we are to be completely transparent with each other?”

“i love the sound of that,” jun whispered before placing his lips against yours once more. this kiss was just a bit more heated than the last, as if the two of you were making up for any lost time. the two of you felt as if you were seeing stars the entire time your lips moved against his. and when the kiss finally broke, the two of you were grinning from ear to ear.

jun, of course, was the first to speak up. “is it.. too soon to tell you.. there is a chance i may be.. possibly, a little bit in love with you?”

you laughed, your thumb brushing along his jawline as your free hand squeezed his palm. “maybe..but i am in love with you too. completely. without any hesitation.”

he chuckled helplessly as he listened to you upstage him with your declaration, pressing a kiss against your knuckles. “well.. then allow me to say that i am completely, hopelessly in love with you too.”  

[ivystoryweaver]

With You part 12

<-prev next-> || Fic Masterlist || My Masterlist

Summary: You and your husband adjust to life with Jake in the mix and Marc gone quiet.

Pairings: Steven Grant x gn!reader, Jake Lockley x gn!reader, Marc Spector x gn!reader. No use of Y/N.

Word Count: 3k

Content: fluff, some angst, spicy times (more under the cut)

Warnings: cursing, references to Marc's trama/past, food prep and talk about food (I know this can be triggering for some) sex implied, foreplay, handjob, but language is not overly explicit and is gn. Probably inaccurate DID, based on the show.

Steven arrived home from work, having narrowly escaped a London downpour. Setting his bag down right inside the door, he shed his damp jacket and kicked off his shoes, thinking Marc might pipe up and scold him at any moment.

Marc was the neat one. Like military neat. Like, don't leave a mess or mom will make you regret it, neat. Like erase your existence from your alter...from the authorities...from the world, neat.

Steven was the messy one. Scatterbrained, he'd been called by a boss or two. It wasn't so much scatterbrained as it was a bit of unaware brain sharing.

But he hadn't shared much of anything with Marc lately. Not since Khonshu had stripped him of his armor mid-fight and almost gotten him killed. That was two weeks ago.

Padding over to his fish tank, Steven placed his hands on his knees, bending forward to take a look at his tiny little school. There were four fishies now, which almost seemed appropriate. One for Steven, Marc, you and now Jake.

Narrowing his eyes, Steven scrutinized the colorful little creatures before reaching for some fish food.

"All right then, time to eat," he chimed. Dumping a few flakes into the water, he smiled at their eager nibbles, until his eyes caught his own reflection.

"You there?" He asked, not actually addressing anyone, but definitely thinking of Marc. "No? ...didn't think so."

With a sigh, Steven sauntered to the kitchen to start the kettle. The flat was dark - the thunderstorm outside made sure of it, and he worried, for a moment, about you trudging home in these conditions.

"Should be alright," he mused to himself, the way he was prone to do. "Not due home for a couple hours yet."

He stopped short when he saw a note on the kitchen counter. It was not unlike the several notes you had left for Jake, on the bedside table. Same envelope at least.

"What's this, then?" he mused, picking it up.

The letters, displayed in your handwriting, spelled 'Marc'.

"Hm. Left you a note. Best come read it," Steven tried to tell his alter. Hearing nothing, he chewed on his lip for a moment before turning the envelope over in his hand.

The contents really did belong to Marc, but Steven felt that maybe had had the best chance of actually communicating with him. So he opened the letter and began to read aloud.

"Hope you don't mind, but I'm going to be reading this," Steven said to no one, because apparently no one was listening. "If you're not going to look at it, you should at least hear it."

'Dear Marc, I can't remember the last time we've gone so long without seeing one another, or at least speaking. Even on your longest missions, it never felt like this. If I could go back to the last time I saw you huddled on the kitchen floor, I would have never let you out of my arms. I would have never ranted about what Jake should do, or how much I hate Khonshu. I would've just held on and told you the truth over and over - that you're everything. That it didn't matter to me if you wore the suit again without telling me because I trust you, and because you can make your own decisions. I've always trusted your judgment. You are the real Moon Knight and you had every right to put on the suit if you felt like you wanted or needed to. I would have told you I support you 100%, that you're needed, that you're loved - that my anger and my bright ideas about how we should march right up to Khonshu and punch his bony beak didn't matter, not when you were feeling so shut out, so displaced, so thrown backwards in time, made to feel any less than. You are not less than Steven. You are not less than Jake. Or me. And you sure as hell are not less than an ancient deity who needs a modern day human body to roam the streets of London. It is he who needs you. And I need you. I need you, Marc. I need to see you again so badly, I can't even breathe sometimes. Not at night, after Steven falls asleep, not in the shower sometimes, or at work, when someone asks after you. I need you so much. Please, this isn't about making you feel guilty. You're my husband. You are the love of my life. I know you're resting now. I know you're taking the time you need. Steven is taking good care of you. But when you're ready, please, please come back to me. I love you so much.'

Running a hand over his chin, Steven folded the letter and put it back where he found it. Peering at his reflection in the microwave, Steven waited...hoping...

But it was quiet.

The next night, you made it home first. Steven had spoiled you rotten the previous, stormy evening. He claimed he was treating you to some warm soup and a hot bath because you were drenched when you arrived home.

But you knew it was because he read your letter and wanted to cheer you up. In fact, you believed that Steven missed Marc too. They didn't always co-front - you typically were only with one of them at a time, but they did talk all the time, and what you had sworn to Marc one afternoon on the rooftop was true: he was Steven's best friend in all the world.

So, a comforting bath and cuddles in bed made you both feel worlds better.

Tonight you wanted to show Steven a little love right back. It was really too bad that you found yourself elbow deep in making vegan fajitas when you heard the front door, because you desperately wanted a big hug.

"I'm in here, babe!" You called, dripping your way over to the sink to wash up.

Steven would have normally spouted off a greeting, two terms of endearment and one fun fact by the time he reached you, but as you turned to see him leaning against the door frame, you only heard the sound of your name...in an American accent.

Your heart rate tripled - your face flamed hot...then you saw your husband's dark curls were covered by a flat cap.

Holy shit. "Jake?"

"Hola," he winked, folding his arms over his chest. Noticing your apparent distress - and automatically assuming he was the cause, the corners of his mouth turned downward.

"Mi amor?" He questioned, his eyes going wide like a child getting in trouble.

"Jake!" You breathed, rushing up to throw your arms around him.

His body sagged in relief, melting into yours until he found the strength to wrap his bigger, stronger arms around your frame.

"Oh my god, oh my god," you gasped, gripping him desperately. "You're here, I can't believe it."

Surprised but thrilled at how relieved and happy you seemed, Jake nuzzled the spot right above your ear, running his hands up and down your back soothingly.

"I hope it's all right," he whispered, his hot breath tickling your ear.

Easing back, you gazed up into his deep brown eyes. "What do you mean? Of course it's all right."

Chewing on his lip worriedly, he shrugged one shoulder adorably, still holding on to you. "It's not a bad time, is it? You're not...supposed to be with Steven? Or anyone?"

You melted. "Baby, it's your body. If you're here, you're here. You don't need my permission." Gently caressing his cheek, you shook your head in wonder. "I just - I don't think I've ever seen you before midnight."

Glancing down at his outfit, you realized you didn't recognize his clothing as Steven or Marc's. Your heart swelled, seeing this new piece of him - a faded, denim jacket over a striped t-shirt.

"And I've never seen you wear anything except Steven's PJ's or your driving uniform," you added, brushing your hand over his.

"Or nothing at all," he cheekily added, biting his lip, waiting for your reaction.

You grinned like a fool, giggling as he swooped you up into a tender kiss. He sampled your lips one at a time, sucking gently, taunting you - until you licked hotly into his mouth, sinking your fingers into his curls. This knocked the cap off his head, which made him growl in response.

Two strong hands dragged your thighs around his waist and in a few long strides, he planted you on the countertop with an 'umph!'

"Sorry," he murmured, his forehead touching yours affectionately as he squeezed your hips, settling right between your spread thighs.

"Was that an offer?" you whispered, referring to him wearing nothing at all. Peppering his smiling lips with little kisses and driving him absolutely crazy, you added, "Is that why you're here?"

Easing back slowly, he swallowed. "I just wanted to see you," he earnestly admitted, a little uncertainty creasing his forehead. "I thought...maybe we could have dinner together. Is that okay?"

He was pretty new to this whole...you thing. Being married...sort of. Making an effort to...be with you. And not just sleep beside you. So he wasn't entirely sure if he was barging in to a special evening with Steven. He also wondered if you were hoping he was Marc. Actually, he was pretty certain that the surprise on your face when he first called your name was you mistaking him for Marc, for just a second.

"Come here," you softly cooed, pulling on his jacket to drag his mouth back to yours. Brushing your lips over his, you used your legs to urge his body flush against your center. "Yes, we can have dinner together..." which reminded you - you were mid-fajita prep when Jake arrived.

Tapping him cutely on the nose, you kissed his mouth one more time. "To be continued."

As you carried on with food prep, a different energy sizzled in the kitchen with Jake, most notably because he was a different person. Marc cooked with you plenty of times. In fact, he probably cooked more often than anyone and he was pretty good at it.

Cooking with Marc was precise, detailed - he knew what he wanted to do and you willingly played a supporting role. The two of you moved with practiced synchrony, like a well-rehearsed dance.

With Steven, it was all about experimentation. As a vegan, Steven was used to substituting ingredients and making things up on the fly. He also left a huge, hilarious mess behind, and typically ended up wearing a portion of his recipe.

For this reason, you had bought Steven an apron that said, 'Team Herbivore' which made Marc roll his eyes every time he saw it. Not because of the slogan but because it had three cute little veggies with smiling faces on it.

With Jake, there was no precise exchange of places, nor an experimental mess. Jake moved right with you from behind, loosely caging you in, picking up a spoon you would set down, stirring while you reached for a knife. You chopped and he added spices. He didn't even ask.

Once your hand was knife free and scraping veggies into the skillet, he was nuzzling into your neck and humming.

You lost your concentration a few times because he was just so close.

"This okay?" He would ask periodically, slipping his hand around your waist to sway with you.

"Where did you learn to cook?" You giggled, melting at the sound of his apparent singing voice?

He paused, going a little stiff.

Hoping you hadn't hit a nerve, you turned around slowly to find him smiling wistfully. "I used to watch my mom."

Your eyes widened as you tried to figure out what to say. Marc had never mentioned cooking with his mom, or her really cooking much at all. He had mentioned going to bed hungry though.

"I know...how she was," Jake softly interjected into your buzzing thoughts. "Especially with Marc." His gaze dropped as he eased back a step. "But sometimes, she would sing in Spanish. And cook. Sometimes I helped."

Reaching for his hand, you gently squeezed. "I didn't know you guys spoke Spanish until we met," you admitted, trying your best to connect a little more with Jake. "That sounds like a wonderful memory."

"One of the few," he sighed. Almost shyly meeting your eyes, he smiled warmly. "I've never told anyone that - or anything...about her."

Using your hold on his hand to pull him closer, you slid one arm around his waist. "You can tell me anything. You know that, right?"

"Mm-hmm," he hummed back, nodding over your shoulder toward the sizzling skillet. "Better stir, mi vida."

Jake's seasonings were totally on point and dinner was delicious. The two of you cleaned up the kitchen and headed to the living room to relax. You noticed Jake sat a little awkwardly on the sofa - in total contrast to the smooth, panther like movements you were accustomed to, late at night, in your bedroom.

"Jake, you okay?" You asked him, grabbing your current reading material and settling down beside him.

He nodded unconvincingly. This was wildly foreign to him. Jake only did a few things in this world: protect, kill when he had to, serve Khonshu, sleep and fuck. He didn't even eat that often - his alters usually saw to most of the body's physical care.

"What...what do you do? At night? What should I do?" He adorably asked.

You almost laughed, it was so cute, but you didn't want to hurt his feelings.

"Well...Marc and I play card games or do puzzles. We watch baseball games or old action movies - "

"You like baseball?" He asked, his eyes lighting up.

"I do," you confirmed with a smile. "The time change is a little weird from here to Chicago or New York, but we watch some afternoon games, or we watch older games."

He nodded, absorbing the information as you went on.

"Steven and I read together, or he reads to me. We like documentaries too. Sometimes I help him study for school." You chuckled, wondering if this all sounded boring to such a night owl like Jake. "Sometimes we have word search races - like, to see who can finish the fastest."

"I do crosswords in my car sometimes," Jake shrugged, as if he totally understood the appeal. "Do you like crosswords?"

"Mm-hmm," you grinned.

It was on. The two of you found a crossword website online and printed out two copies of the same puzzle. Turning on your phone's stopwatch, the race was on.

Jake kicked your ass.

"Let's go again," he chimed, finding another crossword on the laptop. "Loser has to take of their clothes."

You gasped, pretending to be offended. "Mr. Lockley," you playfully scolded.

Hearing you call him Mister anything had him shutting the laptop and scooping you up in his arms, almost racing to the bedroom. "Fuck it," he chuckled. "I surrender, I'll take off my clothes."

You howled with laughter as he deposited you on the bed and kicked off his shoes. Next came his socks - then he went for his belt. Shit, he wasn't kidding.

Crawling backwards on the bed, you settled back to enjoy the show, propped up on a pile of pillows.

Jake had peeled off his jacket while you were cooking, so once his pants were loose, he tugged off his t-shirt. You licked your lips at the way his abdomen flexed at the motion, and almost mewled at the way the shirt's collar mussed his curls. Then he paused, checking for a reaction before removing his pants.

"Don't let me stop you...Mr. Lockley," you teased, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth.

The corner of his mouth curled as he pushed his pants and boxers all the way down. Leaning forward to kick them off his feet, a loose curl fell across his forehead.

Your mouth went dry at the sight of him naked and ready for you. Climbing onto the bed on his hands and knees, he hovered over you, reveling in the way your eyes devoured him.

"Your turn," he purred, teasing you with a nibble to your lips.

Running your hands all over his smooth skin, you felt between his legs, teasing his length with your fingertips.

Hissing in pleasure, he more than willingly allowed you to have your way, licking wickedly into your mouth while grinding into your palm.

"Do you really read and study all the time, mi vida?" He groaned out, rolling his hips in time with your strokes. "Or is this more your idea of fun?"

"Definitely this," you breathed against his mouth. "A fucking lot of this."

Spending the evening with Jake was a balm to your tender heart. You had seen him since the night Khonshu healed him - since your first night together - but only late at night, for a quick conversation, or for a repeat performance.

So spending an entire, domestic evening with him, ending up between the sheets for hours, before falling asleep draped across his naked body - you were in heaven. Maybe Jake really was going to ease into your life - actually be in a relationship with you.

Your heart swelled with love for your husband - for all the lovely, wonderful parts of the system he was. You would have to grab some extra ingredients from the store and plan another vegan fajita night for Steven, since Jake enjoyed the first batch. Not that Steven minded, angel that he was.

Which only left Marc.

Even with your heart so full and alive, there was still a gaping hole. As always, you tried not to put the other two in the middle of any situation, or treat them like messengers to try to get to Marc. But they were more than ready with updates.

Steven had confessed to reading the letter, and trying to talk out loud to Marc several times a day. Jake said the same, finally asking you if maybe it was his fault that Marc was so absent - so silent.

The three of you agreed that Marc just needed some time. As always, you decided not to take it personally. This was about him.

You beat Steven home again the following evening, and this time, waiting on the kitchen counter, was an envelope bearing your name.

next->

@stormydaysxx @laaundromat @kindlover @deezisnotreal @stevenknightmarc @imonmykneessir @marvelouslovely-barnes @evilbubu @usualsworld @rivalriotrenegade @wordacadabra @this--is--music @i-still-dont-like-your-face @avengersinitiative2012 @lockleywife @poppyflower-22 @thursdaywritings @scoliobean @peregrine-nation @local-mr-frog @ren-ni @valkyrie05x @randomhoex @tsukkie-daisuke @flyestvenustrap @spxctorsslxt @cicithemess2000  @bitchotine 

dividers by saradika

[bumblebeesfromvenus]

The Hercules to my Meg ♤

Jason Todd x reader

A/N: How's it going? This is my first piece for Jason! I hope I did him justice lmao I love Jason and the Hercules movie, so I had to write something about this!

Enjoy!

~Fi 🪻

Warnings: mentions of murder, spoilers for Hercules I guess???, disgustingly sweet

Word count: 1k

Please don't copy my work! I put a lot of effort and heart into the things I write.

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"Are you ready, babe?" Jason's voice cut through his apartment. It was a Friday night, and you had decided against going out with his siblings. Instead, you wanted to have a cozy movie night! And because it's you and Jason, movie nights always had a theme. Today's theme was greek mythology. Maybe a little complicated for a movie night, but you two made due. The rules were simple: both of you picked a movie according to the theme and decided via rock, paper, scissors.

The winner got their movie played and the softer blanket. The choices today were Hercules and Percy Jackson: the lighting thief. You'd obviously picked out Hercules. As action-filled and enjoyable as Percy Jackson was, there was no beating the colorful and entertainingly inaccurate world that was Hercules.

"I can't believe you've never watched Hercules. It's my favorite Disney movie!" You exclaimed, plopping down next to your lover on the couch. Bowl of snacks in hand, you swung your legs over his lap  and pulled the blanket around you. Jason chuckled. "Well, I'm watching it now, aren't I? I'm fulfilling my 'boyfriend of the year' duties, you know?" He joked, a grin on his face. You playfully rolled your eyes.

"First of all, you're just saying that because you lost rock, paper, scissors, again and second of all, you'll always be boyfriend of the year, no matter what." you grinned, leaning forward and pressing a sweet kiss to his cheek. Jason hummed in satisfaction. "You flatter me, baby." He responded, a teasing tone to his voice. "What can I say, I aim to please." You popped a piece of popcorn into your mouth.

Jason gently caressed your thigh under the blanket. He did that quiet often, absent mindedly tracing patterns on your skin. It grounded him, that he knew that you were right here with him. You pressed play and excitedly watched the TV. Continuing to enjoy your snack, you slightly moved your foot along with the music. It wasn't your fault that the muses belted out incredible bangers.

A smile tugged on Jason's lips. He turned his head and looked at you; eyes wide with joy, your soft lips pulled into a beautiful smile. It tugged at his heart strings, to see you so happy over such a simple thing. He admired that about you. No matter the circumstance, you always found something fun in it. Something you enjoyed. He faced the screen again and watched the movie. He wanted to know if the hype you gave it was worth it.

You laughed, giggled and occasionally ranted about some of the many inaccuracies. At some point, you'd changed your position and were now cuddled up to Jason's side, feeding him popcorn. He seemed to enjoy the movie as well, letting out those absolutely beautiful laughs of his. He was very invested too; he threatened to trash the TV if Meg didn't get her soul back. You had to hold him back with your entire body weight and then trapped him in the blanket. The TV was safe.

The credits rolled, and you set the now empty bowl of popcorn on the coffee table and slightly turned to Jason. "So.. what do you think?" You asked, curious of his answer.

"Probably one of the best movies I've ever watched, to be honest." he laughed. You grew excited. "Yes! I knew you'd like it. Who's your favorite character?" You questioned, beaming with excitment. His heart melted at your passion for this movie. You looked so cute with that sparkle in your eyes. He pondered for a moment.

"I mean, Hades was phenomenal, but... It has to be Pegasus. What about you, sweetheart?" He said with a soft look in his face."Pegasus is great. Mine's Meg, obviously! She's a badass."

Jason hummed at your statement, letting his fingers trail up and down your arm. You two sat in a comfortable silence for a while, letting the names in the credits run over the screen. "You know, you remind me a lot of Hercules." You said. Jason turned towards you. "How so?"

"A. Huge Himbo," Jason gave you an unimpressed look with a smirk tugging at his lips,"B. You're kind and soft with a tough looking exterior, just like he is. You don't just look tough, you are, but you also help people in need and you've got a big heart." You said softly, placing a hand on his chest with a smile. He returned an equally as soft smile and wrapped his large hand around the one you had positioned on his chest.

"If you think so, will you be my Meg?" He smirked. You laughed and threw your head back. You looked so pretty like this, Jason thought. "Sure, as long as it's the movie Meg and not the myth Meg because... yikes." You responded. His brows furrowed and he tilted his head in confusion.

"Why? What's so wrong with myth Meg?" He questioned. You sucked in a breath. "Well... You'd end up murdering me and our children. You pissed off a witch and she put a spell on you which made you go on a homicidal rampage against your will." You mumbled. His eyes widened and he slightly slacked against the couch. "Damn..." he breathed out. You giggled. "Yeah... but that's greek mythology for you, baby." You sighed. He turned to you with still furrowed brows. "And you like this stuff?"

"Not the murder part, obviously!"

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He chuckled and pulled you into his lap, hands on your waist.

"Can we be a different couple from greek mythology? A happy one, perhaps?" He questioned with a grin.

"Sorry to break it to you, Honey, but there is no such thing as happy couples in greek mythology." You laughed.

A frown formed on his face.

"We better just stick to Herc and Meg, huh? Movie version, of course." He chuckled.

Jason smiled and pulled you closer by your waist.

"Yeah... we should." You smiled, lightly brushing your nose against his.

"I love you, Wonder boy." You breathed out, a teasing tone to your voice.

"I love you too, Nutmeg." He teased right back and pulled you into a soft and passionate kiss.

You pulled him closer by wrapping your arms around his neck. Pulling away, you two broke into one last fit of giggles and laughter. The movie night had concluded, and it had been a wonderful evening once again.

[exactlyyoungchaos]

till forever falls apart.

bestfriendSimon x F!Reader

Part 2.

CW: Character death, trauma, angst, inaccurate military stuff, fluff, probable smut, mental health issues. Proceed with Caution!!!!!

(not proofread, it's 4.30 in the morning here)

It's been five months, six days, twelve hours, and counting since you reunited with Simon in that cafe. Life has been great since then.

He has changed a lot, he's quieter, more gruff, and talks through grunts only. he had scars both physically and emotionally, but you didn't care about any of that. He was your Simon, the only boy you ever loved.

he told you a lot about his life after you left, his job, his teammates his scars, but there were still many things to know and love. You told him stuff about your life, and now that you had him again, all you had was time. to live your life and grow old with him.

he promised you that this assignment would be the last one, after that, he was all yours.

you didn't want him to quit something he loved. but all he said was "It's bout' time love. I have you now, I don't need anything else."

The day you sent him off was very emotional for you. you had just met him again and didn't wanna let him go. You wanted to stay with him.

It was lonely after he left, it felt like somebody took oxygen away from you making it hard to breathe again. His letters and short calls were the only things that kept you from spiraling into depression but you pulled through, just for him.

now you were waiting for his return eagerly. This was the last time you'd ever have to. After this, it was just you and him.

You hadn't heard from him in a few days but you knew he would return today. You cleaned the whole apartment, made his favorite meal, and wore his favorite dress of yours to welcome him.

you were still fussing over the food as your doorbell rang. your heart skipped a beat in excitement. why is he ringing the doorbell? you mused as you went to open the door. Maybe he lost his keys or something...

You opened the door. " welcome back, Si...." but confusion slammed into you when you realized it wasn't Simon but his captain John Price, standing in his full glory.

It was easy to recognize him after Simon had shown you so many pictures of him and his teammates.

"Captain? What are you doing here? Where's Simon? he didn't tell me his team was coming too but it's alright..."

"love" he cuts you off in a soft voice, eyes full of emotion.

That's when you see it, the dog chains in his hand. The same chain Simon had around his neck. You look at him and understanding dawns on you.

"I'm so sorry, luv," he starts

but you stop him.

" No. this isn't funny Mr. Price. Where is he? Where Simon?" you asked harshly.

your heart was beating out of your chest, your vision got blurry.

One look at his face and it all came crashing down.

No, no, no, no. This isn't happening. you kept chanting in your head as Simons's words came back rushing to you

"This's the last one lovie, after that, it's you and me."

He wasn't gone. he can't be gone. you just got him back.

You felt the world tilting on its axis and suddenly two strong arms held you up.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry" a soft voice whispered above you. You didn't care about any of that.

He was gone. Simon was gone. Just like that.

You felt John sitting you down on the sofa and he knelt in front of you.

you looked at him. looked at the man who came to tell you that your future would not be here anymore.

"How?" is all you managed to get out. Simon wasn't a rookie, he didn't make mistakes. He was The Ghost.

"Took the bullet meant for Soap," he told you softly.

Soap. you knew that name, but none of it was registering.

Simon is dead. He left you. Permanently.

you can't sit on the laptop and stalk every Simon in the world in hopes of finding yours. he was gone. the one person you gave your whole life searching for, is gone, not coming back.

why? why did this always happen to you? you never asked anything from anyone, never meant bad for anyone. never cursed anyone, then why?

Why would the universe do this do you? take the one thing that kept you going all these years. Do you not deserve it? was your destiny cursed like this?

you gave everything up just for him, sacrificed everything, your life, your innocence all to just find him and when you finally did, he was taken away from you.

why was this world so cruel? what have you done to deserve this? Is this a sign? your life was over now. was this the end?

tears kept coming out of your eyes as you sat and stared at the wall. you didn't scream or shout. just sat there and willed that this nightmare would be over. but it didn't.

John sat there, in front of you, looking at your state. Simon told him all about his bird. That he found her again.

"Gonna lock her down Cap'n, the second I get out of here."

But he didn't make it out. John failed him, he failed his team. Now that he stared at your faraway gaze, he realized that he failed you too.

but none of that mattered to you. You couldn't feel anything but everything at the same time.

you were numb but every part of you ached for something that's gone. Claws were ripping your insides out. Your heart ripped out from you. You were bleeding inside, and all of the wounds you had acquired over the years that were not on your skin were open and throbbing.

and no one was to blame.

It was in the lines of your hands and the scroll of your fate to never have something you want. You hoped and prayed that this time it would be different. But it wasn't.

everything you touch becomes sick with sadness or death. you weren't worthy of any grace by the universe.

so it took away the only person you ever called yours. The only one who knew you for who you are. what you are.

He was gone, all that was left of him was the memory of his faint chuckle and the crinkle in the corner of his eye when you said something ridiculous, the rumble in his chest when you hugged him, the feel of his lips on your own, his clothes in the closet that you shared and the house that was in his name. nothing else.

you had nothing else anymore.

UHMMMMM!!! HIII! THIS IS I. ALI. AND I APOLOGIZE FOR THE HURT CAUSED BY THIS.

I hope you guys liked it. I'm still writing part 3 of Loml. so enjoy this in the meantime.

I'm struggling with where to take this story next. Do you guys have any ideas? if you do, please suggest them in my inbox. And do tell me if you want to be tagged in the next part.

Thank you so much for reading!!!!

Until next time!!!

ALI-💋💋💋

[smokedanced]

❝ For fuck’s sake...! ❞

He’s prevented from taking the shot he’s meant to take by Lawson yanking him back to cover. Seething, he settles on helping her take out the small group, barking at her to try not to die. Or whatever, as if he cares...

He snarls at her once they’re safe, for the time being,    ❝ You consider that I know how to do my fucking job?! I’d have had them with one fucking grenade, but no, Miss Cerberus had to go and intervene. ❞    He didn’t communicate to her what he was about to do, so really, one could argue it’s his own fault, but he’s a  pirate,  not a soldier.    ❝ If they had the time to call for backup, that’s on fucking you. Fuck! ❞

Contrary to popular belief, he’s  not trying to get anyone on the Normandy killed.  At first, yeah, sure, sue him, he had wished Shepard to die in some heroic accident so Edward could get these silly notions of saving the galaxy out of his disturbed mind and get back to Queen Anne’s. Pirates, they’re pirates! Why are they out here risking their lives for human colonies?

But... insanity as this whole endeavour is, for some unfathomable reason,  being on the Normandy makes Edward happy.

The only thing that matters to Izzy Hands is Edward Teach’s happiness. It’s his fucking duty, as his First Mate.

So here he is, a part of a fucking team. Whatever.

Making sure the coast is clear, he skulks along her. Leave him behind... As if he wasn’t used to surviving on his own. Her threats don’t scare him. Yeah, yeah, she could kill him herself with a thought, fucking biotics... but being left behind? He’s not concerned.

❝ Hold up. ❞    He nods towards the distance. The power’s out throughout the colony, but there’s one building that’s emitting a glow. He backs into cover so he can’t be spotted, not even trying to yank her with him; she’d probably blast him with her abilities, or slap him, or some shit.    ❝ Maybe we coordinate a little, this time. ❞    His tone is awfully grumpy for someone responsible for the earlier miscommunication.

@serabellyms

@smokedanced asked:

‘ try not to die! or do, i don’t care. ’ / from izzy

If Miranda has learned one thing, it's that she cannot stand Israel Hands. He's reckless, rude, and what she'd describe as the kind of person she'd rather toss off a cliff with her biotics for opening his god-damned mouth. Unfortunately, the little piss-ant comes as a package deal with Blackbeard--Edward Teach--and even more unfortunately, they need the latter's skills and capability.

It's like the little shit is glued to his pirate like an obsessive little fanboy.

And alas... he's nothing but trouble unless his master has him on a goddamn leash. She'd separated from Shepard and one of their other squadmates, taking a different route around the colony to investigate further. It was another colony that had been abducted, and like before, they were too late; however, they could cover more ground if they separated, and Miranda herself was more than capable of doing so. There were still a few Collectors left, like they were guarding whatever was there. Prothean tech, perhaps.

Izzy, it seemed, had to get their attention by offering a challenge. "You bloody idiot!" She roared, yanking him back by the collar behind cover as he seemed to just announce their goddamned presence to every Collector present on the colony. "Sure, just announce that we're here, so we can't get the drop on them. Are you out of your fucking mind?" God, if he wasn't a necessity, she'd...

No, Miri. Keep your focus. She shot the two that had seen them, swearing under her breath as he took out another two. Thankfully it was a small pack, and they just had to hope that the four hadn't called for their friends. And he had the nerve to tell her not to die. What a smartass. She might just consider leaving him behind if he didn't start proving himself to be a valuable asset. It'd certainly be no skin off her back.

"It's going to take a lot more than that to kill me." The sarcasm is evident in her tone, as she pointedly looks at her reckless companion. Luckily, she's used to things going to absolute shit by this point. Now she just has to reign in the urge to break every bone in his body for attempting to screw her over. He'd damn well better be done with it. "Now hurry up, or I will leave you behind."

[circlesofkell]

Since the intimate night you spent with Gale at Moonrise Towers, he knows how you feel about Mystra and his fixation on the powers of the gods. But when Mystra summons him to an audience, the gravity of her demands threatens to tear you both apart. Tested under Mystra's hand in the chasm of the Weave's crushing weight, it will take the most divine of corporeal forces to bring Gale back to himself.

(Linked fic contains explicit sexual themes and language, 18+ only)

“Perhaps,” you smile in spite of yourself. “In any case… there could be some peon scrabbling in the dirt somewhere who may find you close enough to divinity just as you are.” 

He closes the distance between your bodies. “And who might that be, to confer such lofty praise on this ignoble wizard?”

“No one I know of!” You glance surreptitiously sideways, trying to evade his way of looking past your defenses, looking into you, looking through you. “It’s purely a hypothetical consideration.”

“Hmm, of course, purely hypothetical.” He slides an arm around your waist and takes your jaw delicately in his powerful hand. As you glance up from under your lashes to meet his lustrous gaze, your heart leaps into your throat and seizes against your will. “Hypothetically, of course,” he muses, “such a person could never be described as a scrabbling peon. Enchanting treasure, perhaps… celestial scion, probably. Resplendent idol of magnificence, almost certainly. But scrabbling peon? A woefully inaccurate depiction.” The torches flicker warm shadows across Gale’s face.

“Hypothetically, of course,” you smile coyly, “such a person would probably be quite taken with you under this torchlight… concentration could be off the table altogether.”

His cocky grin flashes bright in the low orange light of the braziers. “Perhaps I could think of some way to entice such a hypothetical person’s focus.”

Longing burns sweet and twisting in the pit of your belly, pulling you in closer toward the heat of Gale’s body. You slip your hand between the parting of his long robe and rest one finger on the waistband of his trousers. “Hypothetically,” you breathe, “such a person might entreat you to indulge her imagination a moment longer.”

He lifts one eyebrow slightly, a sliver of his tongue tracing the line of his white teeth across his enamored smile. “You know how I live to indulge you.”

[helpwhatsthis]

could I request smut of best friend Robin coming across photos of reader and Eddie sending one another nudes 😱 then later on reader and Robin sext?

eddies girl- r.b./e.m

thank you sm for requesting babes!

I changed it bc I am very picky abt my modern aus, but there are definitely still nudes and this is way better than sexting.

ignore the use of time period inaccurate toys!

disclaimer that there are no relations between eddie and robin! (if anyone tries to argue with me about robins sexuality, prepare to have a molotov cocktail thrown in your window ♡)

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robin had know she was fucked from the moment she saw you punch a russian in the face during summer of 85'.

she'd known she was even more fucked the moment she pulled open eddies nightstand in search of a song to save nancy.

before she could even move her eyes to the contents of the drawer, eddie had started screaming and running toward her. the tapes were forgotten from both of her hands when she gazed down to see god knows how many photos of one of her best friends in such... compromising positions.

if it hadn't been for steves screams to hurry up, and eddies pointed yet still terrified stare- she thinks she would have laughed from the shock of it all. because if she was a little more perverted (and a lot less rushed) it would have been like striking gold to her.

she can't deny to herself how many times she'd thought about the small glimpse she'd had. once everyone was safe, and eddie and max had been released from the hospital, it was all she had thought about for days. she'd barely left her room. every time her eyes closed, she saw it. saw you. tied up to your headboard, eddies hellfire shirt bunched up over your tits, and his hands pressing on your stomach. your head thrown back in ecstacy.

and with the sight came the questions. would you ever, in a million years or another lifetime let her touch you like that? what would you sound like? do want to fuck eddie as much as he talks about wanting to fuck you?

now her thighs are clenching together in the dusk surrounding the lake. she feels like a preteen boy, about to blow her load in her jeans while you moan along with joan jett to cherry bomb.

how could she not? your eyes are glassy and bloodshot, smoke falling from your nose. your black bathing suit leaves nothing of your body shape to the imagination. but most of all, even in the low light she can see the dark hickies on your skin.

"she's so fucking perfect, isn't she?" eddie muses softly, his knee bumping her own. guilt immediately fills her being when she looks back at him. even though his skin is covered in harsh scars, and there's a fear lurking in his eyes, he smiles as he watches you.

he loves you.

and you love him.

"to the ends of the earth, teddy" you had whispered in the back of steves car while begging him to hang on.

"i- I mean yeah, sure-" she stumbles on her words, sure shes been caught staring for too long.

"cool it, buckley." he smirks, turning his gaze to her. "I know you want to fuck my girlfriend, there's no reason to freak out."

"I don't!" she blurts, probably a little too loudly when you and steve turn back to look at her.

"shut up rob," he laughs, smacking her shoulder. "I know you have a shitty sleep schedule, and you have work tomorrow. so me and the succubus are gonna head home."

"dick" you grit, reaching up to slap his ass harshly as he stands.

why the fuck is he covering for her right now?

she's seen how possessive eddie can get, even before his escapades in an alternate dimension. since then, they'd only increased tenfold.

"we'll finish this conversation later." he murmurs, leaning down and feigning a kiss goodbye on the top of her head.

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"-and she's lovin' him with that body, I just know it. and he's holding her in his arms late-late at night-"

robin groans, throwing her head back against the headrest of steves passenger seat. "alright, sorry springfield. I can't handle you tonight."

she reaches to turn down the radio, causing steve to fake a moan of agony.

"shit, robin. is this y/n. again?" he asks, glancing at her pitifully.

"yes, again." she snaps. "it's like she knows exactly how to work her way into the most minute crevices of my brain" she explains exaggeratedly with her hands.

much to her annoyance, steve just chuckles.

"and eddie knows-" she looks at him, finally allowing her fear to show through. she knows that some point, eddie had threatened a guy within an inch of his life, all because he heard from someone who heard from someone else that the guy had a crush on you.

she did not feel like having eddie threaten to put a pipe bomb in her mailbox. or whatever deranged shit came out of his mouth.

"and how would he know?" steve asks skeptically.

because all I do is stare at her boobs,

or because I stole one of her shirts,

maybe even because sometimes I wake myself up moaning her name in my sleep.

"I don't know." she lies. straight through fucking teeth. "but he told me he knows."

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"alright, I'll be back in a few." you huff, grabbing eddies keys so that you could pick up steve and some take out. "love you, bubba" you hum, pressing a short kiss to eddies lips that makes robin painfully aware of being the third wheel.

"love you too." he smiles blissfully as he watches you walk out the door. it takes less than a second for him to turn back to her, cheshire grin upturning his lips. "let's get down to business-"

he wiggles his brows at her, causing her to roll her eyes. "and what would that be, edward?" she snaps, looking anywhere but his face. she knows that if she looks at him too long, she'll become a sobbing, apologizing mess.

"well, all three of us are off thursday." he shrugs. "and wayne is going out with some fishing buddies-" he smirks, biting his lip as he leans toward her.

"that means y/n and I are gonna have that new, big nda money house all to ourselves... unless of course you wanna come over?"

and she can see it vividly now, playing behind her eyelids. she's not stupid. she nows eddie fucked you on every surface of the new place after you'd bought it with your hush money.

it's a nice place, a really nice place actually. it's no harrington mansion, but you have eddie have a big plush bed on the second floor.

she wonders what it'd be like, to fuck you the king size bed you share with your boyfriend.

"and what would happen if I did come over?" she bites the bullet, looking skeptically at eddie. she almost wishes she hadn't when she sees the victorious look on eddies face.

"well y'know, it's not like I've put too much thought to it-" he laughs, eyes lost in thought as he absent-mindedly picks at the couch. "but you probably come in and find her tied to one of the kitchen chairs, wand buzzing against her puffy clit and begging someone to fill her up."

and she can almost hear it then, the loud buzzing and your whines for him.

no, for her.

"and of course I'd be mean, tell her no. and you'd get to play the hero, making her cum over and over on your pink cock."

there's a burning in her stomach, and she almost cries out when she clenches her thighs.

"god robin, she gets so wet for you. I make her tell me about how she wants your fingers inside and your tits in her face when im fucking her."

and she can't suppress it then, a soft moan pulling from her throat. she pulls her knees under her chin, peering up at him through teary eyes. he smiles, almost warmly as he claps a hand on her shoulder.

"so come over, or don't. s'up to you darlin'."

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her hands are shakey as she reaches to close the mirror on the visor, letting out a huff of anxiety.

"you're really gonna do this?" steve ask, pulling her out of her thoughts.

"I guess so, and if it's horrible I'll call you when you're on break and make you come pick me up." she shrugs, looking back out the window.

"It's not gonna be horrible, rob." steve states, even though he knows very well that his is definitely out of her comfort zone.

she's so lost in her own head that she barely notices when he stops the car in the driveway.

"oh god-" she murmurs softly, gazing at the front door.

"It's just eddie and y/n, you'll be okay." he promises, reaching out a squeezing her hand.

the walk to the door feels endless on her trembling legs. she almost can bring herself to knock when she finally reaches it. but she does.

"It's open!" she hears eddie call from inside.

before she even has the door all the way open, she hears you cry out.

"eddie, please." you beg, hands fisting your binds and hips trying to wiggle away from the vibrations. it's a fruitless effort, only adding stimulation to your swollen cunt.

your beautiful. it's a simple thought, and the first thing that occurs to her as she stares into the the living room.

she thinks that eddie must have the self control of a god, being able to write nerd shit in his notebook while you're tied up and jerking around like that right in front of him.

"god eddie, please make it stop." you pant, body slumping and pushing your clit into the toy harder.

he only smiles, reaching out and turning it up a setting. you practically scream, head falling back and making her knees feel weak.

"come torture her a bit, buckley." he smiles at her. "lose the clothes on the way." he hums, going back to his notebook.

and she's waited so long to see you like this that she obeys without a second thought, striping down to her underwear and sitting beside him on the couch.

from here, she can see all of you. you're chest is heaving so hard it makes your tits bounce. there's visible tremors running through your belly. and your cunt, fuck. it's leaking everywhere and your puffy clit is twitching against the head of the wand.

"r-robin-" you choke, voice broken. "please make it stop?" you you beg, tear filled eyes pleading at her.

"oh y/n." she hums, reaching out to wipe the tear tracks from your cheeks. you push into her touch, and jerk a second later when eddie flicks the handle of the wand.

"make her cum." he says, relaxing back into the couch with his arms behind his head.

"how?" she asks, not able to tear her gaze from your clenching hole.

he sits up wordlessly, reaching for the clasp of her bra. he stops, eyes asking for permission. she nods, and seconds later the material is falling from her chest.

the sound you make is strangled, wanting nothing more than to feel the hard buds of her nipples against your tongue.

"do whatever feels right?" eddie shrugs.

and so she does, standing from the couch and pulling down her panties. your whining, body keening toward hers as you watch her undress.

she can help herself, hands caressing your face and she guides it so that your chin rests on her sternum.

it almost feel natural as she moves her hands to the sides of her breasts, pushing them and effectively smashing you between them.

and she giggles, fucking giggles, as you sob into her skin.

"can I kiss her?" she asks shyly, looking over her shoulder at eddie.

"you can do whatever the fuck you want to her, robin" he grins.

the next thing you know, her mouth is on yours, her tongue running along yours. you don't even notice her moving, so consumed by her mouth. she drops on your lap, folds warm and wet against your legs as her hand wraps around your neck.

"f-fuck" you cry into her mouth when she squeezes slightly.

and then she's in a daze, hips rocking against your mound and causing you to thrust into the vibe.

you take her tit into your mouth, nearly biting at her nipple and making her moan.

"oh fuck, that's it y/n" she gasps, hands tugging your hairs.

"go on and cum for her, baby." eddie encourages, reaching out and squeezing you knee.

it's euphoria as you let go. cunt clenching and feeling your pulse everywhere. your deaf to your owns screams of pleasure, deaf to both of their praising words. it's just wave after wave of bliss.

when you come to, the wand is clicked off. your head is resting on robins shoulder and her hands are rubbing soothing circles on your back.

"come on, princess. buckley isn't done with you yet." he hums, beginning to untie you.

"your getting payback for that teasing." you threaten, making robin laugh.

"oh yeah, and how is that?" he smirks.

"when is steves next day off?" you smile devilishly up at robin.

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[thydungeongal]

Hi, same anon obsessed with morality.

Okay, I admit that my ask was a bit too emotional because non-evil original roleplaying games exist even in sword and sorcery style (World of Dungeons and Oracle are some I would recommend), and existence of Gondal setting testifies that it's not a male thing in any way.

However, my probably naive concern goes a little further - I don't play D&D, but I use it for monsters and settings. It's hard to invent absolutely everything from a scratch, you know? But this leads to an ethical concern I have - doing this is still feeding into D&D hegemony and embracing Gygax's and Arneson's rotten legacy (though I am starting to think that Gygax was a lesser evil, holy fuck). And let's not fool ourselves here - derivative games like Pathfinder or Knave are still their legacy (though maybe Cairn isn't, I am not sure).

So like, what are options of games that are generic fantasy that have a lot of monsters and settings to steal and that are also both not "D&D but different" and aren't objectively evil?

I know literally a handful of candidates, so I am asking your followers to share. And no, Warhammer isn't such game.

What I remember is:

Fantasy Age is not without a sin, but it's presented as "you can depict these demi-humans as equal people or you can be a hitler, it's up to you", so progress I guess?

Jackals is built on OpenQuest and is pretty generic if you exclude it being about bronze age, but I remember some potentially creepy details of how it treats demi-humans

Blue Rose looks the most morally fine, but it's not exactly generic

Lightmaster is ugh, because it doesn't have inherently evil demi-humans, but it has inherently different demi-humans who are always savages, so it's a thin ice (though otherwise it's a blast)

D6 Fantasy doesn't really have monsters in core book, but there are probably third-party bestiaries that may even not be vile

GURPS does have bestiaries of fantasy creatures, but I don't know anything about their morality

IDK about rolemaster, but you said that it's not good.

So like, which extremely ethical non-OSR heartbreaker that was published ever am I missing? Should I look into Das Schwarze Auge, or does it suck the same way?

Ultimately I think you're thinking about this too much to your own detriment. It's good to be aware of the fact that lots of (especially older) fantasy stuff does carry some fucked up expectations and approach it with a critical eye so you don't end up replicating it, but if you become single-minded in your pursuit of the perfect, unproblematic fantasy RPG you're not only setting yourself up for disappointment but also denying yourself a lot of stuff that's good but flawed.

Anyway, not a game but a supplement for OSR games, but Skerples' Monster Overhaul is pretty good in this regard and does this via simply accepting the revolutionary paradigm of "orcs are just some guys."

Another game out of the left field, Chivalry & Sorcery is really surprising in this regard, because it's the sort of game that gives off vibes of being written by "the presence of women in a medieval setting is extremely inaccurate" types, but the authors actually make a point of saying that player enjoyment and comfort should always take precedence over adherence to historicity when it comes to issues like players wanting to play women or queer characters. But it's in its treatment of orcs and trolls (and as far as I've understood, dwarves and elves too, but I haven't read that supplement yet) where it gets really cooking. Chivalry & Sorcery is a game written by medieval history nerds and they wanted their game's worldbuilding to adhere to a medieval European paradigm. So when it came to adding orcs into the game the authors asked "how would orcs fit into the worldview of a medieval Christian?"

The answer is that just as medieval Christian philosophers mused that if cynocephali or those guys who only had one big foot were to exist then surely they must be just some guys, orcs would also have to be just some guys. This means that they would be human in terms of having been created by God and tracing descent to Adam and Eve and also could receive the eucharist and be saved.

Anyway, all of which is to say that the middle ages were woke,

[yerimacoustic]

𝙢𝙤𝙨𝙩 𝙖𝙧𝙙𝙚𝙣𝙩𝙡𝙮 ♡ jun x reader

❝ 𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙮 𝙨𝙚𝙘𝙤𝙣𝙙 𝙛𝙧𝙤𝙢 𝙣𝙤𝙬, 𝙞'𝙢 𝙜𝙤𝙣𝙣𝙖 𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙥𝙡𝙚𝙩𝙚𝙡𝙮 ❞

summary : you find a sense of familiarity in your sworn rival, jun, while exchanging anonymous letters with a stranger .

content warnings : jun x female reader, regency era au, mostly inspired by you’ve got mail, slow burn, frenemies to lovers, more tags to come . teaser is 1.4k words, full fic tbd.

this is a teaser for a jun bug fic!! read full fic here i’m busy but i was so excited to get this out so i thought i’d post a little sneak peek. it’s probably history inaccurate bc idk shit i’m purely going off vibes

i’m trying to get a tag list going so lemme know if you want in!

the walk to the post office was not tedious by any means. not when the promise of a new response in the form of a handwritten letter prompted you to move quickly and lightly on your feet. it had become a weekly routine, early morning strolls to the post house, as well as an awfully great way to start the week. 

the postmaster, otherwise known as your childhood friend, jeonghan, stood completely still behind the main counter with his arms folded across his chest. there was a knowing, mischievous glint in his eyes as he watched you quietly shut the door; he had been expecting you. just like he expected you every monday morning. 

it wasn’t long before the brunette pulled a small envelope from the series of shelves behind him, gently dropping it onto the counter between the two of you. “here you go. your gentleman’s love letter awaits.”

“good day to you too, mr. yoon,” you teased him and grabbed the envelope, taking note of the familiar wax seal in the front. a neat scarlet red circle with a lion in the center- the familiar sight always managed to bring a smile to your face. 

“hopefully he gives you some more clues as to his identity this week?” he called out to you as he strode across the tiny shop in favor of sweeping the floor. a look of feigned disappointment washed over his features as the sound of the bristles scratching across the floor and the envelope ripping open filled in the silence. “...perhaps not.”

just as your lips parted, the door swung open to reveal jeonghan’s assistant, karina. from the moment her eyes were fixed on yours, a mischievous glint akin to jeonghan’s filled her irises. “i thought i might find you here today. what news from the mysterious suitor?”

you shook your head before gesturing towards jeonghan, “i haven’t had the opportunity to read it yet. someone’s made sure of that.”

the man laughed from across the room, “it was never my attempt to keep you from reading it. i only wish that the two of you would at least give each other some hints as to who you really are.”

karina nodded in understanding before turning her back in favor of hanging her overcoat upon the rack near the entrance. “i hate to level with jeonghan in this case, but i’m curious about this mystery man, as well. have the two of you ever discussed meeting in person?”

“no, not at all. we’ve agreed to stay anonymous,” you explained as your fingers curled around the envelope in an almost protective grip. force of habit. “we know the risks but.. it’s quite refreshing, having someone to talk to without any of the societal pressures.” 

before too long, jeonghan had finished tidying up and joined the two of you near the entrance. “i don’t understand. you both are clearly fond of each other..”

“who said anything about-”

“and you have a lot in common,” jeonghan mused, eyebrows raised. “in your next response, you should ask him something personal. ask him about his occupation.”

without skipping a beat, you shook your head in protest. “thank you for your unsolicited advice, jeonghan, but i know everything i need to know about this man. good day, my friends.”

you waved goodbye to the inseparable pair, stepping towards the small door. of course jeonghan, who always had to have the last word, called out to you before you could shut it completely, “except for his true identity!”

his words prompted your lips to twist into a smirk as you finally found the right opportunity to open the letter. as you unfolded the piece of parchment, your smirk slowly dissolved into a genuine smile, finding beautiful familiarity in the cursive penmanship. as you took cautious steps on the beaten path, you read the letter carefully:

‘this weekend i had the pleasure of accompanying my cousins as they vacationed in the countryside. they rent a small cottage near the ocean during the summertime and haven’t bothered to invite me until this year. i wish you could have seen it; it was perfectly quaint and tranquil. we spent all but the entirety of the seventy two hours walking along the beach and hunting for seashells. a bit of a juvenile hobby, i know.

i’m not sure where this inkling comes from, but something tells me you enjoy the oceanside. i bet you keep a collection of shells and pearls hidden somewhere in your home. or perhaps you proudly display them for your visitors to see. next time they permit me to join them near the beach again, remind me to fill this envelope with shells to add to your collection. 

i know summer is your favorite holiday, and with that being said, i hope you find enjoyment in the final days of the season. take a stroll along the gardens or picnic with some of your friends. 

take some time for yourself, my friend.’ 

–

jun waited three days for a reply, just as he did every week. he and his anonymous friend had fallen into a pattern of consistency, each of them sending a letter out to the other person once a week. even if he knew he could count on whoever this person was to send a timely response, his nerves got the best of him every time. the potential tone of the response occupied his thoughts at all times, keeping him up at night, keeping him from focusing intently on his work. 

this week it reached the point where he had to turn his chair around to face the window, hoping that the sight of the rolling hills and graying sky outside would clear his mind. summer seemed to come to an end as quickly as it had begun, the entire season passing by in the blink of an eye. he counted his blessings, realizing that he was indeed lucky to have at least one holiday during the season. even if it was at the very end.. 

a knock on the door pulled him out of his trance and he turned his chair back to rest in the proper position, tucked tightly under his desk. “come in,” he called out.

barely a minute had passed before jun’s personal assistant and lifelong friend, wonwoo, closed the door quietly behind him and strode towards his desk with an envelope in hand. “your mystery woman sends her compliments,” he mused, handing the letter to jun. 

jun’s eyes went wide. “you mean- you saw her??”

wonwoo shook his head, holding back an amused smirk as he watched the disappointment wash over jun’s features in real time. “no. my apologies.”

jun sighed, “just as well, i suppose. god only knows what chaos would unravel if anyone else in the household saw her.” 

wonwoo nodded stiffly, folding his hands behind his back. “right you are. maybe there is practicality in anonymity, after all.”

“still, i can’t help but wonder what she’s really like in person,” jun mused, leaning back in his large leather chair with his chin cupped between his thumb and index finger. “there are so many habits and manners of hers i don’t even know about. she could be.. much lovelier in person.”

the bespectacled man tilted his head, taking a completely different approach, “or she could be ill-favored and poorly mannered.” the quiet statement was enough to pull jun out of his daze, causing him to furrow his eyebrows in annoyance. “my apologies.” he repeated.

“there is no possible way someone who writes so beautifully is as ill favored as you say.” jun disregarded the man in front of him as he began to tear the seal off of the envelope, a silent command for wonwoo to leave him alone. conveniently enough, the door gently slammed shut once jun finally unfolded the small sheet of parchment. 

‘i am delighted to hear that you were able to enjoy the last remaining hours of the season with your family. the ocean sounds delightful. your suspicion of my enjoyment of seashells and pearls is a fair assumption, although, i gave up collecting a long time ago. hopefully you invest more stock in your collections than i did.

i’m afraid that i have no plans to take my leave before autumn begins as i’ve been much too busy. i don’t mind keeping an occupied schedule; it takes my mind off things and prevents me from overthinking. especially when i get the pleasure of meeting several people from different walks of life on a daily basis.

i know i say this every week, but it is always a pleasure receiving your letters. sometimes i can’t believe that we met through an anonymous literary discussion group. i’ve received a handful of letters from other attendees, but allow me to say that the discussions are utterly mundane compared to our conversations. it feels like i write to a friend i’ve known for years.

i eagerly await your reply, dear friend. 

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

Wait im sorry if like youve talked about this before but what is everyones roles in the fantasy au 👁️👁️ or jobs?

i've just Thought Aloud in bits and pieces but hey. i feel like talking today so i'll put it all in one place with Updated Thinkings

(i like to imagine that they all kinda Quit their initial jobs/lives to go adventuring with each other, either by choice or... not. except Howdy, who's a multitasking king). the Neighborhood party earns their wages by completing jobs/quests, though some of them have minor supplemental ways of adding to the coin collection

Wally, of course, didn't really have much of a Before. he didn't intend on becoming a warlock/wizard - that choice was kinda made for him by the circumstances of his existence. but Wally had to pretend to be a wizard for his own safety, and wizards have a sort of societal expectation to be Helpful and Magical and Wise and Existing For Public Service. so while Wally would have rather just been a painter, he's obligated to be a wizard - that's technically his role/job. within the Neighborhood party, he's a bit of a distance fighter/support! he doesn't really do the whole up-close / physical aspect of battle, though he technically knows how. He casts spells from afar, which tend to be widely benign. artsy little cantrips and inconveniences to make it harder for the enemy to fight. he's also a bit of a bloodhound - illusions don't trick him, he can "see" most magic, and he's really good at getting around unnoticed. if they're stuck somewhere, Wally can probably get them out

Barnaby's "job" before going adventuring with Wally - it started out as just the two of them! - was just working on the farm with Ms. Beagle, where he had been his entire life. Sure he'd sometimes do public performances/acts in town, which would earn him extra coin, but that was more of a paying hobby than anything (a paying hobby he will Continue) in the Neighborhood, he's... uh. their cheerleader? that's not entirely inaccurate! he's not big on combat or effort i'd reckon, so he prefers to just keep morale high. offer background music, funny commentary, jokes to lighten the mood, mediate tensions, etc. if necessary, he makes good backup - he has his illusions of course, and he Does pack a mighty punch if need be! he's also very helpful when retreating - he can grab the smaller party members and run

Wormie is the group mascot <3

Sally was a bit lost before joining the party - i like to think that she was constantly on the move as part of a traveling theater troupe, but she wasn't the star or director. she was just part of the group, uninspired and with a full well of untapped potential. one day she up and left (dramatically) to find her own inspiration/muse & path to stardom, which ended up being several years of wandering until she happened across the budding Neighborhood and went "this! this will be the source of my stories!" as for her role, she's a bit of an everyman. front lines fighter, entertainer, mediator, etc. she views herself as the party "leader", or rather, their Manager. she keeps the party entertained with stories, and bolsters their reputation in the same manner. in a battle she's a bit of a powerhouse - her light magic is useful both in combat and entertainment! she keeps a "book" of the Neighborhood's exploits (she swears it will be edited/published someday) holy shit she's moominpappa, and in their Extended downtime she writes and throws plays inspired by their adventures at their home base (town).

Eddie was still, originally, a mailman. or i suppose in a fantasy setting - a courier! until one day he saw a group of people being attacked by some bandits, managed to fight them off, and immediately got roped into helping rescue the folks' entire town from the bigger group of bandits. then they told others about Eddie's help, they wanted his help too, one thing after another and now he's got a full set of armor, a sword, a shield, and his whole thing is saving people. huh? how did that happen? he was delivering letters a month ago! if i had to give him a title... i'd say he's a Protector! he seems like the type! he always has his fellow adventurer's backs - i bet he has his hands full trying to cover everyone at once. outside of combat, he's still very helpful and does whatever is asked of him / needed. collecting firewood! pitching tents! stirring soup! getting Frank to remove a centipede from camp! in downtime he probably takes small bodyguarding gigs. he also is a minor healer - he took some sorta oath for some sorta god (or virtue) that he can't remember, but he has minor healing/cleansing powers. he's also good at sniffing out evil & dark magic! some would joke that he's the party's guard dog

Frank was raised in a monastery that believes in "using your body to fight for the greater good". this was not his job when they became old enough to actually Act on his training! nah they ran away in his mid teens because they wanted to fight things on his own terms. also they want to study bugs more than anything, which he does! for a long time! then they meet a certain princess, befriends her, and helps her run away. he only joins the Neighborhood because Julie wants to, and it's a good way to travel - read: study more arthropods - and earn coin. fighting is a bonus aspect Frank's role is... front line fighter, bookkeeper, and the Guy Who Knows Things! what monster are they dealing with? what are its strengths/weaknesses? Frank probably knows! can they afford a room or two at an Inn? Frank knows (no, they cannot)! who's throwing themself into direct mortal danger with gusto? it's Frank! no but really, Frank is like their resident nerd who can beat pretty much all of them in hand-to-hand. in downtime he probably has a garden purposefully full of plants that can be left alone for long periods of time... maybe they sell half the things grown for extra coin!

Julie, of course, was a princess! that was her whole job! it was incredibly boring and restricting, so she ran away with the help of a funny nerd. after that her whole life was just "avoid getting recognized while figuring out how to live in a world without the comforts/ease of castle life". i'd think she much prefers her new one! as a role, Julie joins Barn and Sally in the "entertainment category". while they entertain with humor/stories respectively, Julie goes straight for games and activities to fill the lull between action. keep the blood pumping, spirits high, and bonds Solid! camp games, road games, locked-in-a-dungeon games! in combat, she's on the front lines with her oversized sword. i think another fitting role would be "navigator" - she can ask plants for directions! technically Julie is a secret powerhouse. her flora magic is insanely powerful, though she prefers not to use it for several reasons

Poppy, i like to think, did indeed have a bakery. it was well-loved in her community, her staff were wonderful people, and it all burned down in a night due to raiders. luckily for Poppy and her town, Eddie was nearby and got on the case to get rid of their problem - maybe Poppy felt obligated to help in some shape or form, and Eddie wound up inspiring her to learn healing magic. She moved into the town that would become the not-yet-existing Neighborhood's HQ to try and restart her business, but it just wasn't the same, and she had gotten a taste of what it would be like to directly save/heal people Poppy is the party's cook, healer, and ultimate voice of caution! the most she'll do in battle is sprint into danger to drag an injured person to safety for healing - she doesn't have a combative bone in her body i'd guess! does she enjoy being in the Neighborhood? eh... it's stressful and terrifying, but she couldn't live with herself if she let them all brave the wild without an adequate healer OR an adequate cook. i like to think that she saw the state they were traveling in and went "oh no"

Howdy, of course, has his tavern! it's a popular hub for travelers, townsfolk, pretty much anyone and everyone. of course it helps that it's the only tavern in town! the only reason Barnaby managed to convince Howdy to join the Neighborhood on one of their jobs is because Howdy realized that he can widen his net & sell to new people On The Go. finally, a use for that magic backpack collecting dust in his room! Howdy got a taste for adventuring and joins the Neighborhood every once in a while, usually only for shorter jobs - he doesn't want to be away from his tavern for too long his roles are support, professional haggler, sarcastic commentary. he doesn't have a crumb of magic in him, but he's clever! he's learned how to make his own support items - including his fancy revolvers with magical crayonsbullets. Howdy rarely fights, choosing to watch over his pack, dole out items when needed, and listen to Barnaby's running commentary. when it is necessary that he join in on combat, he can usually clear the playing field in a matter of moments. he's skilled with both the revolvers and using his own items - he's a one man four armed army!

Home's job is "keep Wally upright and powered". they prefer to be an observer in all situations, even after their existence becomes common knowledge to the Neighborhood. the most Home will do is nudge Wally in the right direction or alert him to something important. Home's literally just hanging out behind Wally's eyes w/ a bucket of popcorn. unless something happens to his beloved little puppet, in which case Home becomes the biggest baddest bitch around and sends everyone else to the bench

tl;dr: Wally: support fighter, magic geiger counter, escape artist Barnaby: entertainer, backup Wormie: mascot Sally: storyteller, fighter, Manager Eddie: protector, minor healer, "paladin" Frank: bookkeeper, fighter, scholar Julie: activities director, navigator, fighter Poppy: cook, healer, overthinker Howdy: tavernkeeper, inventor, support Home: just keeping an eye out

[writeshite]

would you write more of the smart cookie fic? im just very very into it and would love a part 2 🫶🏻

Love You To The Moon & Back

Summary:

“Good morning to you, too,” you kiss his forehead, and he mumbles something else, snuggling deeper into your arms. “What happened to the early bird catches the worm, hmm?” “....not a bird…no worms please….” he mumbles. “Hmm,” you respond, rubbing circles along his back, “How about pancakes? I think I might have some blueberries or chocolate chips,” you muse; Spencer peeks up at you. “Ah, I see I’ve piqued your interest.”

Pairings:

Spencer Reid x Male Reader

Tags:

Tattooed Reader (Because I Don’t See Enough Of That) | Fluff | A Wee Bit Of Angst | Developing Relationship | I Shook Spencer & Insecurities Fell Out | Inaccurate Laws & Profiling Probably (Take What I Write With A Grain Of Salt :)

Words: 4690

Author's Note:

Yes, you may 😌. I've been thinking of doing some more stuff for the AUs I make, cause it's fun, and I think male & gender-neutral readers need more AUs. Sorry for making this long 💀.

Previous

I found the experience of falling in love or being in love was a death: a death of everything. You kind of watch yourself die in a wonderful way, and you experience for the briefest moment - if you see yourself for a moment through their eyes - everything you believed about yourself gone. In a death-and-rebirth sense.

- Hozier

Around Spencer, the kitchen felt like a world away as he took in the feeling he was experiencing; with light, frivolous laughter, he hid his face in your chest to stop himself from falling into giddy hysterics. You were equally as giddy, chuckling when Spencer met your eye, “So…what now?” he asked.

“Well, we’ve got a few more hours of work,” you respond, chuckling when his face scrunched up in mock irritation, “but after, we could go on a date,” you suggest.

“Date?”

“Hmm, you know,” you respond, “that thing people do when they want to pursue a romantic relationship.” He smiles; admittedly, he hadn’t thought past the kiss, now surprised to find you wanted to cultivate something along the lines of an actual romantic relationship with him. 

“Yeah, I know,” he responds, “what do you have in mind?”

“Well, the museum has a new Classics exhibit,” you reply, and Spencer is amazed that you’d genuinely been paying attention when he’d dumped his knowledge of 15th Century literature on you. “What do you say?”

“Yes,” he nods enthusiastically, excitedly bouncing on the balls of his feet. The hours left at work breeze through fast, and Spencer spends most of it with dancing hands, a wide smile on his face - your date is set to 9:30 AM, Saturday morning. He goes home with a prep in his step, and when the weekend comes around, his enthusiasm soars; Saturday morning sees few clouds in the sky and the promise of sun. Spencer kept to his usual attire of casualness; the streets were averagely busy, and he twists the strap of his satchel on his way there, quelling any anxieties that manage to break past the excitement. Said anxieties are set aside when he notes how well your leather jacket hugs your arms. 

“Hey, cookie,” you greet, hand reaching out to hold his.

“Hey,” he threads his fingers with yours, thumb rubbing circles on your skin as you make your way through the museum. The Classics exhibit displayed several kraters from c. 520-500 BCE, Etruscan figurines, Greek and Roman sculptures, and various other artifacts. Classics isn’t as interesting a topic it seems, as the crowd is relatively small, but Spencer is thankful for that - the overcrowded dinosaur exhibit you’d passed came to mind, and he shuddered at the thought of being caught up in that. 

“Etruscan tomb painting….” You read off one of the displays before turning to him with a knowing smile.

“Oh, the Etruscans were a civilization that flourished in Central Italy between the 8th and 3rd Century BCE, renowned in antiquity for their rich mineral resources and as a major Mediterranean trading power,” he speaks easily, basking in the fondness you directed towards his rambling. “Much of their history and culture was either destroyed or assimilated into the conquering Roman Empire. Tomb painting is considered one of the Etruscans' greatest legacies, with beautifully painted tombs in Tarquinia, Cerveteri, Chiusi, and Vulci.”

The exhibit didn’t have the actual paintings, instead displaying photographic copies with annotations and interactive maps; the sculptures are set up to mimic the inside of a temple, leading to the back where the kraters are set. The other sculptures are scattered about the room, and Spencer beams when you turn to him for information, having spoken more today than he has in a long time. He coughs in the middle of his tangent about pediments; he rubs the back of his neck and apologizes for the scratchy throat.

You chuckle, “Come on, let’s get something for that cough, eh?” The museum’s cafe is surprisingly empty, with a few people milling about here and there and the majority off at the shops. You both get iced teas and take a table away near one of the window walls. Spencer keeps hold of your hand and drums his fingers mindlessly. He is saddened when the date comes to an end. “C —can we do this again?”

You nod enthusiastically in response, and still riding on the coattails of joy, he asks, “Can I kiss you again?”

“As many times as you like, love.” 

He beams, leaning into your space to do just that, his thumb rubs across your skin, and even after you part for the day, Spencer is ecstatic - the joy persisting into tomorrow as he skips with every step. “Well, well, well, someone’s happy,” Derek remarks. “I hope this means you finally said something to loverboy.”

“Yup,” Spencer responds, “we, uh, had a date yesterday.”

Derek pats Spencer’s back with a proud smile, “You know what this means? I, Derek Morgan, was right.” Spencer shakes his head; any attempts to clarify to Derek that this wasn’t exactly an I told you so moment fell on deaf ears as the man smugly waltzed from the elevator with a cheer. Spencer follows after; when you arrive some moments later, it’s with two coffees as usual, and the day begins as the first of many days chasing an unsub through the Appalachian Mountains. 

“It’s almost like some twisted sightseeing event,” Derek mumbles. “The unsub’s earliest activities can be traced in Alabama; they kidnap two people, and from what the surviving witnesses have said, make both victims fight to the death, the winner gets to live.”

“Ties get both killed, and refusal to fight does the same,” you add. “They’re patient, willing to wait for months if need be to strike again. The murders between Kentucky and West Virginia had two years between them; if they are following the mountains, then there’s a chance they’ll cross over into Canada and most likely out of our hands.”

“Alright, then, let’s make sure that doesn’t happen,” Gideon says, “What else do we know?”

“They’re also meticulous, the locations, the methods, the choosing of victims. It’s all so careful, like some form of entertainment,” Spencer responds.

The facts are as follows:

The unsub has little regard for other people, seeing them as pawns for their own amusement.

The victims appear randomly selected, but on closer inspection, all seem to play into their disturbing amusement. Features vary, but all work in the retail industry - the unsub walks through retail stores for hours before picking. They’d do the same company for two states before switching to another, then another, and another.

Victims had a week; after that, survivors were left tied, with a sack over their heads at their place of work, and corpses were left in the same place as well.

The unsub didn’t care for publicity and seemed to want to keep it as something private. 

Pennsylvania is the next destination; the first victim is already chosen by the time of landing, which leaves one of hundreds if not thousands of other potential candidates. Spencer and Gideon stay with the local police department, you split off with Ellle, and Hotch goes off with Derek. Spencer bounces off theories and facts with Gideon; the profile becomes clearer but comes with a few more holes. The unsub seems well-red, familiar with police procedures, not intimately, more so like someone who’s read and heard extensively enough to understand.

“The space between murders suggests they must have traveling involved in their day-to-day life to be able to do so with such ease. Said life must offer them some satisfaction if they’re able to handle their urges so well.“ Gideon pointed to the mapped-out route of the unsub, “They could be in the tourism field, a flight attendant or a business consultant, something that lets them go from state to state easily enough.”

“Business consultants are sought after for their professional advice and services; they locate challenges in businesses and strategize plans to find solutions; they essentially come in and take over control, in the same way the unsub takes power over one’s life from their victims.” Spencer rambles, “but why target retails workers?”

Gideon sighs, “The higher up the chain you go, the less regard you have for your fellow man,” he states, “83% of retail workers report harassment from customers, the higher the social class, the worse the abuse can be. Our unsub’s disregard for human life may also be intrinsically linked to their social class as well as their occupation.”

“So everyone below a certain point is no better than cattle to them?” Gideon nods in response to Spencer’s question. 

“Can I help you folks out?”

The Goodwill of the first victim’s kidnapping was small, residential houses all around; the community around it wasn’t small per se, but close enough to take note when outsiders came about. The manager, Naomi Hughes, is a kind middle-aged woman of relative height, hair in a neat row of braids along her head.

You and Elle introduce yourselves and draw out your badges, “We’re here about Hayden Mullins.”

She nods, “Oh yes…uh…come with me.” She leads you to the back and into her office, “Hayden was working the closing shift when he was abducted, I told him not to work it alone, but he was determined. Home isn’t the happiest place for him,” she explains, “I’d let him sleep here when his dad was making a ruckus, get some food in him. He’s a good kid; I don’t know why anyone would go after him.”

“Did he have any hostile interactions with customers in the days before he was taken?” you ask.

“Who doesn’t? Folks get real snappy when you can’t get them what they want.” She rubs her temple, “I had a customer scream at me 'cause we didn’t carry non-salted water,” she exclaims with quotation marks, “what the hell is non-salted water?”

Elle huffs and shakes her head, “What about friendly customers? Did you notice anyone who didn’t act the way you’d expect? Anyone who stood out for a different reason?”

Naomi purses her lips, “Now that you mention it,” she opens her desk and pulls out a file, “There was this one woman; she was nice, like really nice. She said she’d just come off a four-hour road trip, so we was ready for all sorts of tantrums, but….”

“But what?” Elle asks.

“She was sweet. Smiled at me and said it was alright when we couldn’t get her what she needed,” Naomi’s face scrunched up a little, “I was a little spooked if I’m being honest; I mean, I’ve had nice customers, but she was something else.” She shuddered, passing over the file to you, “I was gonna forget all about her, but….when she looked at Hayden,” she shook her head, “I got a bad feeling.”

Inside the file was a woman’s side profile - hair clipped back into a bun, light makeup from what you can note in the black and white frame, a neatly kept suit - for all intents and purposes, a regular businesswoman. 

“Hayden was stocking the shelves, I think, and she got mad when he couldn’t man a checkout. Had to have her escorted from the premises, but she came back again —oh my god, do you think she—”

“We don’t know that yet, ma’am,” you interject, “this is still an ongoing investigation; we’re just looking into all the facts as of now.”

“Don’t blame yourself for anything that happened,” Elle tells her.

Naomi nods, “Promise me something, if…if anything happens, you’ll tell me before you tell the news, understand?” You both nod to her request and leave with the security footage and any receipts linked back to the woman.

“If this, April Walsh is our unsub,” Elle points to the picture, “it sounds like she doesn’t like to lose control, the ties, the refusal to fight, it was in the hands of the victims, it was anarchy….” 

“....she can’t let it thrive,” you finish. “The store is already out of her comfort zone and control; what if she assigns roles to the people around her, say Naomi? Managers are notorious for allowing bad behavior, but when Naomi didn’t….” You get behind the wheel and drive while throwing around more theories.

“....she got angry. April told Naomi she came off a four-hour drive; how far is the last crime scene?” She pulls out her phone, and minutes later, she cheers, “Four hours, and eighteen minutes, it’s not much, but….”

“It’s something; let’s get back to Spencer and Gideon with the info.” 

“Speaking of Spencer,” Elle chuckles, “a little birdy told me the two of you went out on a date.”

You groan and roll your eyes, “Seriously?”

“Come on, I mean, Derek’s been bragging that he got Mr. Lovebird and the Resident Genius together,” she quips, “plus, you two make a cute couple.”

You smile, “Thanks. At the very least, I know there’s another date somewhere in the future, so good things to come, I hope.”

“Oh, they’re definitely coming,” Elle remarks. You lightly smack her arm and laugh as you pull up to the local precinct. She raises her eyebrows when Spencer greets you laughing when you stick your tongue out at her.

“Hey, cookie.”

“Hey,” he responds, grinning at you, “did you bring me anything?” he quips.

“How does a potential name for our unsub sound?” You give him the file, “and also, a few more details to add to the profile?”

“I’d say it sounds good,” Gideon responds with a small smile. You and Spencer huff, amused and bashful - Elle relays the theories you’d bounced off each other in the car as Spencer pins April’s image on the board, while Gideon does the same to catch you up on what he and Spencer discussed while you were away. “We can brief the officers when Hotch and Derek get back.”

“It’s about two things,” Gideon begins, facing the  “control and entertainment. The unsub does not care for anyone but herself; at best, anyone outside of that is a form of entertainment and, at worst, an annoyance.” He points to April’s security image, “April Kennedy Walsh is a business consultant, highly sought after from what we’ve gathered, and meticulous with just about everything, from her schedule to her wardrobe.”

“Her method of murder calls back to the gladiatorial fights in the Colosseum; the emperor and the people of Rome would watch as gladiators fought with each other or animals,” Spencer adds, “she feels no remorse for her victims and rewards winners with their life. Refusing to fight for her amusement might insult her in some way, as though she were an actual Roman emperor.”

“She fits in easily with the crowd from a distance, but up close, her disregard peeks through during moments of loss of control. She’s not shown any violent behaviors during those times, but it can’t be ruled out,” Derek passes copies of April’s photos, “and judging by how she took little time to disguise herself in any way, she’s not afraid of being caught. In fact, this whole chase could be another form of entertainment for her, the same way you or I sit back and watch TV.”

“The potential want to be caught doesn’t mean she isn’t using an alias and could be a way to challenge us, so be on the lookout,” Gideon finished.

The officers split off after the debrief, and you gather back as a group, “There’s a few other Goodwills from the first and a bunch more in Pennsylvania; we can’t search them all,” Elle points out, “and even if we did, she’s patient, she could just as easily wait until the smoke blows over before coming back.”

“We don’t have much of a choice; handing out her photo to the media could cause her to abandon the hunt too, and then we’d have no easy way of finding Hayden,” you say, “there has to be some kind of pattern between the stores she chooses.”

“She chooses the same two stores for each pair of victims, always employees, never managers; after two pairs, she changes stores,” JJ reiterates, “what if she’s following the road? Picking whatever store she sees on her way?” She looks at the map, hand trailing over the red pins set on the previous stores, “The first incident was in Huntsville, Alabama, from there, and according to her schedule, she had been on a back-to-back business expose.”

You pick up blue pins and place them outside the border of the Appalachian Mountains, “In that two-year break period, she was in Lancaster, Ohio.” You put a pin there, “then Richmond, Virginia. Maybe, the two-year gap wasn’t by choice or lack of available victims.”

“Personal tragedy? But we couldn’t find anything like that,” JJ sighed, “then again, we could barely find anything about her personal life. Her parents are divorced, and when I called and asked about April, they hung up on me really quick.”

“What are you thinking?” You ask.

“Well, what if this disregard for people started early? Her mother was a judge, her father a surgeon; I’d say that’s enough money to cover up any accidents,” JJ theorizes, “both high-pressure jobs might have caused the divorce. But why not speak about their daughter?”

“One or both parents could have felt guilty, argued with the other about covering it up, then,” you shrug, “divorce?”

You dial Garcia’s number and wait as the tone rings, “Mistress of all knowledge, how may I enlighten you today?”

“Hey, gorgeous,” you greet, she scoffs on the other end, and you can imagine she’s rolling her eyes.

“Ah, my favorite work of art,” she greets back.

“We need to know if April has any juvenile records, sealed records, anything like that, and if her mother was involved in having them buried.”

“Okie dokie.” She types fast a few clicks later and, “Wow. I’ve found a couple of things, most of them cited as isolated incidents and common behavior among children, but one sticks out, November 23rd, 1999, the same year Judge Walsh resigned from her post.”

“She give any reason why?” You inquire.

“Nope.”

“Alright, thanks, Garcia.”

“Anytime.”

You relay the information, “The divorce happened the next year,” JJ mumbles, “let’s see if we can get those records open.”

November 23rd, 1999. April K. Walsh attended a camping trip near Lake Michigan; during a scavenger hunt, one of April’s buddies - Sam Goodwin - was found face down in the waters; the leading theory was Sam had gotten distracted and veered off the trail, with little experience swimming, Sam may have slipped into the water, panicked then subsequently drowned. The children had been paired into groups of three; the third child, Emma Chavez, had insisted that April had done it, and one detective had shot in the dark - months of investigation, and it looked like April would be facing time in a juvenile detention facility.

“What juvenile detention facility did she get sent to?” Gideon asks.

“None; close to the trial, the whole case fell apart; the next year, Judge Walsh resigned from her post and got a divorce.”

“Phone calls won’t cut it,” Hotch states, “we need her parents down here now.”

Joshua Walsh - now a retired surgeon- stayed close to Lake Michigan after the divorce and never remarried. Sofia Phillips - previously Sofia Walsh, post-divorce, she moved to Vermont, remarried, and had two more children before returning to work as a judge in a more minor position. Both refused to look each other in the eye; Joshua appeared more saddened, while Sofia was irritated. 

“I’m sure you have a good reason for dragging me all the way here,” Sofia grumbled.

You knew very little of Sofia Phillips, but from what you could gauge, she held herself higher than others and regarded the investigation with about as much regard as buying the wrong flavor of juice.

“Yes, ma’am, we wanted to ask about your daughter, April,” Hotch replied.

“April? Please, I don’t have a daughter called April anymore.”

Joshua scoffed, “Yes, you do, April Kennedy Walsh,” he turned to her, pulling out his wallet with shaky hands; he riffled through it before holding a picture in her face. “She had your eyes, remember?”

“Yes, I also remember her being dead to me, Joshua,” Sofia responds, glancing away. “She was always troubled. I tried to be a good mother, but sometimes you just can’t beat that attitude out of them.” She crosses one leg over the other, “I thank god I was blessed with two wonderful children after her, kind, obedient, nothing like April.”

“Hypocrite much? Where do you think she got it from, huh?”

Sofia rolls her eyes and glances at Hotch, “Are we finished now? My son has a recital in a few hours.” Hotch nods, and she leaves without a second glance; Joshua stays seated, shaking his head with a sigh.

“April…she’s not a bad kid…just lost. Sofia and I didn’t expect to have kids that early…I mean, we coped, but our jobs….” He looks at the photo again, “I tried as best as I could to be there, but Sofia…I wish I did better."

Joshua reluctantly recounts the event of November 23rd, 1999, alongside his divorce and any other moments before and after that point. The Appalachian Mountains had been Joshua’s dream destination, Sofia, to no surprise, had constantly been vocal about instilling the appropriate life goals in April - high grades, top careers, appropriate connections. The stores chosen all had qualities Sofia had cited as detestable, with Pennsylvania’s first Goodwill reminding her too much of her least favorite architecture - brutalist architecture. So going off that, the next Goodwill would have to be similar in style as well. This new detail leads to a few counties over.

April Walsh doesn’t fight when caught; appearing exhausted, the only other emotion she shows is a mix of relief and joy when she sees Mr. Walsh again, but it’s brief. She sits without prompting, crosses a leg over the other, and makes her only demand, “I’d like to speak to my father—”

“Give us Hayden,” Hotch counters.

“Who? Oh, the retail worker,” she scoffs, “he’s perfectly safe, tied and unconscious in room 345, Liberty Hotel. Now, can I please talk to my father?” Hotch nods, leaving for Hayden with everyone but Gideon and Reid. Hayden is unharmed, drowsy, and confused when he awakes.

You slump into your seat on the airplane, Spencer sits by you, and you lean your head against his shoulder. “No one wake me up for anything,” Derek mumbles across from you, lying across two seats to nap. 

“You look bored, cookie.” Spencer glances over at you; the others on the plane have either gone to sleep or relaxed in their seats.

“Maybe, but I’m not sure there’s much to do in an airplane.”

“We could play a game —not that kind,” you remark; he’d raised his eyebrows, and a light blush had dusted his cheeks, “we can do that at a later date, Dr. Reid. Right now, I was thinking of something like the ABC game.”

“ABC game?”

You sit up, “On long car rides, my grandma loved to play it; we choose a topic or theme and go through the alphabet. Say the theme was food, I’d say apricot; then you’d say bread; we can narrow down themes like food to fruits or vegetables.” 

“Ooh, that sounds interesting; ok, what’s the theme?” he asks, turning towards you.

“We can stick with food; it’s pretty easy and fun for a first-timer,” you reply, “We’ve got apricot and bread down, so, C, carrot cake.”

“Ok, donut.”

“Éclair.”

“French onion soup.”

You breeze through the first round, and Spencer picks the next theme - countries - which you manage through a quarter of before landing; you carry on while on the tarmac and finish just before leaving for home. It’s late afternoon in Quantico; Spencer bumps his hand against yours as you walk, smiling when you hold his hand in response. Paperwork is easy enough, and once done, you collectively sigh in relief when no other case comes up. It’s not night yet, and hearing everyone else make plans or detail what they have in mind when they leave has Spencer debating on whether to have that second date now.

“Thinking hard?” You ask, laughing when he comes out of his thoughts to find you standing close to him.

“Uh, yeah,” he says, “do you…uh…can we have that second date now? I know this great Indian restaurant, it’s a bit out of the way, but it has very good chicken tandoori.”

“Sure, lead the way.”

The restaurant is nice, getting there just half an hour after it opens at 5:00 PM; there’s plenty of space to choose from; Spencer leads you to his favorite seat by the fish tank. It’s a nice date; Spencer finds his legs close to yours after you split the bill, leaving just after seven. “Did you like it?”

“Loved it,” you respond. “You sure know how to treat a man, sweetheart.”

Spencer tugs at your arm, smiling into the kiss you give him. “Goodnight, love.”

Spencer is soft.

It’s what you repeatedly note - when he smiles, leans into your space for a kiss, or drums your fingers along your hands. When he snuffles in his sleep, a moment before waking up, “Morning….” he’d mumble before dozing off for a few odd minutes. 

“Good morning to you, too,” you kiss his forehead, and he mumbles something else, snuggling deeper into your arms. “What happened to the early bird catches the worm, hmm?”

“....not a bird…no worms please….” he mumbles.

“Hmm,” you respond, rubbing circles along his back, “How about pancakes? I think I might have some blueberries or chocolate chips,” you muse; Spencer peeks up at you. “Ah, I see I’ve piqued your interest.” You laugh as Spencer ponders between the comfort of the bed and the prospect of pancakes. You leave him to his decision-making; by the time you’ve made the batter, Spencer shuffles from the bedroom - donning one of your hoodies and rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

Spencer hugs you from the back and pecks the space between your shoulder blades, “Süss,” he says. 

You purse your lips and glance over your shoulder at him, “Süss? Come on; I thought you liked a challenge?” You switch off the stove and turn to face him, “German. Sweet.”

“I wasn’t looking for a challenge today,” he clarifies, “I was stating a fact.” He points at you as he repeats the word. “Mein süss.” 

You grin, “I’d say you’re the sweet one, cookie.” He scrunches his nose, “Mein süßer Keks.” You wink when he stares at you, “You’re not the only one with a knack for languages.” He sticks out his tongue, leaving the kitchen with the pancakes; you join him at the dining table - he sits with his back to the window, soaking in the sun like a cat.

“Fun fact, chocolate chips melt best at temperatures between 104 °F and 113 °F; the melting process starts at 90 °F when the chips’ cocoa butter starts to heat. For milk and white chocolate chips, the temperature shouldn’t exceed 115 °F; for dark chocolate, it’s 120 °F; otherwise, the chocolate will burn.”

You nod, “Which flavor’s your favorite?”

“The classic chips, made from small chunks of sweetened chocolate, I like to eat them in winter when there’s less chance for them to melt in the bag,” he answers. “What about you?”

“I don’t mind, but I suppose I prefer the classic ones too.” The pancakes were long gone by now, and coffees almost finished; Spencer had come previously to visit but never slept over before, “How’d you sleep?” You ask, placing your arm around his shoulders.

“Good,” he yawns, “you’re really comfortable.” You chuckle as Spencer snuggles closer, “Can we go back to bed?” He asks with another yawn.

“Hmm,” you stand, “you head on in; I’ll take care of the dishes.” He nods, shuffling back to the bedroom; you gather the dishes, rinse off the food, place them in the dishwasher, and leave them to clean. You find Spencer nestled comfortably under the blankets; when you slide in alongside him, he latches onto you, not fully asleep and not fully lucid. You comb your fingers through his hair, and when his breath evens out, you close your own eyes and doze off.

End Note:

This turned out a lot longer than I thought it would, and also, not that I think it needs mentioning, but this and the previous fic takes place somewhere in season one. Stay Hydrated.

[xxgoblin-dumplingxx]

Ok but Dick is so big brother shaped. Plz give the kid a sibling.

The trials of working for a young married couple with a child, Alfred sighed. Some of the things he'd clearly forgotten in the intervening years.

And he wasn't sure what was worse. Walking in on a private conversation or walking in on said married couple in- or about to be in a compromising position. But he did know there was a third worse option that was a mix of both.

Still. At least everyone was still mostly clothed. And he wouldn't need to see if his insurance benefits covered therapy.

Whatever the precipitating factors were didn't matter. He was sure it would all come out eventually. Though he had suspicions.

Bruce had been obnoxiously fussy where you were concerned. Even more than normal.

So either a spat had been resolved or he'd decided you were terminally ill.

He glanced up from getting the stains out of Dick's school uniform and quirked an eyebrow but other wise said nothing as you loaded the washing machine- you perfered to wash your own intimates and he didn't blame you. Even if he wasn't phased. But from his understanding, you'd been doing laundry since you were 8. So- it was probably equal parts it being weird to have someone else washing your undergarments and having some sense of normalcy. Either way it was less work for the staff- something they appreciated.

"You're home early," he observed watching you start folding shirts- he wasn't sure how many jobs you'd worked but he suspected a considerable amount of retail.

"I've been working from upstairs," you tell him. "Working at the office has been making things... distracting for everone."

"Ah yes. The unintended consequences of the lime light."

"I'm not sure why interviews keep going viral-"

"It's not the interviews," Alfred snorted. "People find you fascinating."

When you roll your eyes he smiled just a little. You seemed to have a very inaccurate picture of yourself outside of a courtroom. You were charming. And had enough wits about you to keep up with Bruce- in his public persona or out of it. To the outside you looked like an odd couple. A lawyer with a deadpan biting wit and a reformed playboy... He could see the appeal of you. Why people still fixated on you.

"Well calling my office is rude," you tell him. "Particularly when we can't unlist the number."

"Yes that is annoying I'd imagine; how-"

"I have a secretary filter calls. Interview requests and weirdos get rerouted to wherever all the PR shit goes and Ranga sends me anything important."

He nodded. He'd never considered how you'd managed to get anything done working from home. But it made sense.

"How many socks can this kid run through?" you muse, folding what felt like the 50th pair.

"It is an eternal mystery. How every child I've ever known winds up with so many mismatched socks."

"That's why I just bought socks that it didn't matter if they matched- until I was in law school it was a good day and I was on my A game if they came out of the same pack."

Alfred shuddered reflexively and wondered if you still did that, he'd never paid attention to your socks.

"Alfred where is- Oh hey Y/N," Dick said, "Bruce wants you."

"Why?" you ask, returning his one armed hug when he skipped over.

He shrugged, "Didn't ask."

"Rude."

He grinned, "You piss people off today?"

"Language. And just Gordon- that doesn't count."

"How come?"

"ACAB until they stop beating up civilians and taking bribes, Dickie.""

"Please don't say that in interviews, someone will shoot you," Dick said. "This is like the longest it's bee since someone tried to shoot you. B finally stopped trying to hire bodyguards."

"Pretty sure they could get bribed, baby bird."

"I couldn't-"

"I bribe you all the time," you tell him, ruffling his hair.

"It's not a bribe if you do it before I act up. It's just an incentive," he huffed.

"True enough, finish folding your socks," you tell him swooping down to kiss his cheek before going to find Bruce.

[melonae]

This is also heinously inaccurate to his character but I mean this by melody and sheer tone of Hozier’s voice Elliott is like. De Shelby Part 2. Especially the Chorus and the beginning.

ON THAG NOTE I never imagined Haley as GLB (Good Luck, Babe!) and moreover Naked in Manhattan BY chapelle.

If they all had music tastes though, I no doubt think Elliott would really like Hozier, a little bit of classical SURE but not all the time. Maybe Folk like the crane wives? Or The Oh Hellos or similar artists (I’m only aware of the popular ones I’m so sorry)

I can’t imagine Shane listening to music, I’m also really sorry this isn’t me saying he’s a boring, plain character with no personality, I just believe he doesn’t listen to music that much.,.

Haley likes pop SPECIFICALLY girlpop, if that’s even a genre. Like Kesha, Kim Petras.. etc!!!! I feel like there’s not much more to apply here

Alex likes rap, and I’m saying this off inspiration of my brother. Both rap and probably alternative rock? Which are VERY MUCH different genres but I feel like he’d like enjoy more.. melodiously calmer rap? I could say a name but I don’t want to speak wrongly of such a specific genre at all, but nonetheless time-to-time he’d probably listen to something like artic monkeys OR blink-182??? I don’t know, I might be wrong

Sebastian would be into rock undoubtedly. This ALONG WITH nu metal! Probably artists like Them Crooked Vultures, Muse, Flyleaf, and Incubus…ouguhgh

Sam really likes pop, not girl/hyperpop like Haley but definitely more feminine artists? Like Avril Lavegne, Mariah Carey, but also sometimes country artists like Luke Bryan and SATIRCALLY, Dixon Dallas.

Thats enough Thinking for now, I fear. I might do Everyone because I love inferring in different music tastes and Small ticks and Likeness!!!