#sj: your goodness level is too high

[yipfrey]

every time people put shen twins au with reverse transmigration i think about that scene in lilo and stitch but shen yuan saying to shen jiu “your anger level is unusually high for someone your size we need to fix that” or something

[misshoneyimhomeagain]

Chapter 9 -

Summary: the hockey team and their partners discuss the approaching Christmas festivities, and Julia, who won't be returning home for the holidays, extends her kindness to those without holiday plans. Then, the focus shifts to the eagerly anticipated charity event, where laughter, strengthened bonds, and a touch of romance create an enchanting atmosphere.

Tags; William NylanderxOfc, soft!William; “We never go out of style”

Warnings; none

Author's Note: With Christmas on the horizon and the MLSE's fictional charity event approaching, I want to clarify that this event is entirely a product of imagination and not rooted in reality. I apologise if the chapter delves extensively into the gala's details, but my aim was to vividly convey the event's atmosphere. As always, I hope you find this chapter filled with evolving emotions enjoyable.

Words: 5.9K

“I look at you and I fantasise - You're mine tonight”   

Wednesday 30th - TOR 3 - SJS 1   

Wednesday turned out to be a proper nightmare and complete chaos at the office. To everyone's (insert sarcastic tone) delight, the managers had set an important deadline for the end of the following month, which turned everyone into tiny tornadoes resembling headless chickens.

Julia, on the other hand, found it rather amusing. Sure, she'd be swamped with work herself, and there was no doubt her patience would be pushed to the limit - but, nonetheless, December and Christmas held a special place in her heart. It was her absolute favourite time of the year, and despite all the chaos and sky-high stress levels at the office, she wouldn't let it get to her. During this special time of year, she’d always have a talent for keeping her mood and spirit high, soaking in all the happiness and joy, the Christmas music and lights on the streets along with snowy (or rainy in the UK) days, where one could cosy up inside with hot chocolate, a movie and a soft blanket. All mixed with the stress of purchasing presents causing small financial crises, too much food and weight gain, and fighting within each family arguing who makes the best turkey or cranberry sauce. Oh yes, she did love it all.

And to top it all off, Charlie added a little romantic Christmas spirit of her own.

"Finally," Julia chuckled warmly as she took her seat at her desk, facing Charlie, who had just shared some exciting news, following their morning briefing – she and Auston had officially become a couple, sealing the deal, and announcing themselves as boyfriend and girlfriend.

"What do you mean 'Finally'? We've only been going out for, what, three months..." Charlie said, playfully raising an eyebrow from across the desk.

“Perhaps so, but you two have been acting like a couple for weeks now, so it was only a matter of time before you put a label on it," Julia explained, sharing a light chuckle.

Charlie, always quick with a witty remark, couldn't resist teasing her friend. "So, what's your and William's excuse?" she commented, her laughter filling the air.

Julia, slightly baffled, yet with a grin across her face, was just about to respond with a comeback of her own when Andrew came and interrupted the girls' heartfelt conversation. "Saved by the bell," Charlie cheekily remarked.

And then the workday returned to its oh-so-joyful, hell-like atmosphere. But today's good news was that the girls had plans to attend tonight's home game.

And what a game it turned out to be.

The first period held nothing but the players skating back and forth, with shots on goal where every puck was saved by both goalies. The second period then brought about some excitement as Auston scored the match's first goal, putting the Leafs in the lead. However, the joy was short-lived, as the San José Sharks managed to secure a tie before the period ended. 

The excitement in the arena was palpable.

As the game progressed into the third period, it was as if the break had worked some magic for the Leafs. Engvall and Marner emerged as dominant forces, taking control of the game, much to the delight of the fans.

The crowd erupted with joy as the Leafs secured a resounding 3-1 victory for the home team. It was a sweet triumph, and the atmosphere was electric.

"Hey!" Mitch couldn't contain his excitement, shouting as Stephanie rushed to embrace him with a kiss. Charlie followed suit, greeting Auston with a warm embrace, and Tessa did the same with Mo. Laughter and affection filled the air.

Julia, though, found herself standing alone amidst the joyful embraces, and with a playful tone, she quipped, "Oh, that's right; I've got no one," earning a chuckle from the group.

"Oh, that's hurtful,“ William, never one to miss a chance to tease, said with a grin, as he joined the gathering with the rest of the Swedes. Julia simply chuckled at his playful remark, embracing him into a hug, and they all began chatting about the upcoming month, filled with various events. The charity event was of course a major topic of discussion, but they also shared their plans for Christmas, which was drawing closer. 

"Any exciting plans, JJ?” Auston, curious as always, turned to ask Julia, with his hand wrapped around his new girlfriend. “Are you going home to England or Denmark?”   

Julia gave a gentle shake of her head, a hint of disappointment in her voice as she replied softly, "Unfortunately, not. We've got an important deadline on the 22nd, so I've decided to stay here." Understanding nods of agreement spread among her friends, acknowledging the sacrifice she was making for work.

“You're okay with that?" Mitch expressed his concern.    

And simply Julia reassured them with a warm smile. "Of course," she chuckled. "Besides, both my brothers are celebrating with their girlfriends anyways, and my mum is with her new fling, and my father is with my grandmother, so it’s all good" she explained.   

"So, you don't have any plans at all?" Rasmus asked joining the conversation.    

"Well, actually, a colleague of mine, John Evans, has invited me and my boss, Andrew, to spend the evening with his family," she revealed, piquing the group's interest. "It's apparently something they do every year – they open up their home to those who don't really have anyone to spend the evening with. Though usually, not many people show up, but I thought it sounded like a great idea, so I offered to join in and help."   

"That's really sweet,” Stephanie expressed her admiration, “I mean, we'd obviously offer for you to join our family, but-"   

"It's okay, Steph,” Julia interrupted her with a warm smile. “I'm all good," she reassured her friend.   

"But it sounds like a great initiative,” Mitch chimed in, adding his thoughts. “There are probably also guys on this team who don't have their families around and can't go home because of the sport."   

Julia beamed and flashed a great smile. "Well, actually, they're all very welcome at our Christmas," she said, her warmth radiating. "I mean, it's open to everyone, and no one should be alone on Christmas eve, right? So, if anyone on the team wishes for a place to stay on the 25th, they are more than welcome to come along."   

The group of players was genuinely intrigued by Julia's generous offer, and they began discussing among themselves whether this could be a viable option for them.   

William, in particular, couldn't help but smile at her incredible generosity. She had a way of effortlessly making everyone on the team feel like family, and her warm smile and genuine concern for their holiday plans touched their hearts. Christmas could indeed be a challenging time for professional athletes, far from their families, and Julia's offer of a warm and welcoming celebration sounded like a perfect alternative.

With a friendly grin, he leaned in closer to his English friend, giving her a friendly squeeze, silently showing his appreciation for her. Amidst all the chatter about holiday plans and the laughter of friends, William felt grateful for the amazing friend he had in Julia.

_

Thursday finally arrived, marking the big night for MLSE's tenth Annual Benefit for Underprivileged Children - the Christmas gala.

Unfortunately, Julia found herself buried under a heavier workload than usual, which forced her to stay back at the office longer than originally intended, but, on the brighter side, Charlie had enough free time to meet up with the rest of the significant others to get ready for the event together. This left Julia alone, doing her best with her hair and makeup in the office’s restroom, with Camille on FaceTime of course, providing her with her stylist expertise. And fortunately, Andrew had offered to drive her to the gala, given he’d too had stayed back to finish of the work of the day. 

As the eventful evening was about to unfold, the group of Maple Leafs hockey players and their significant others gathered in the grand hall of the hotel, sharing their thoughts and feelings about the wonderful atmosphere and aesthetics of the gala. It was a night when everyone came together to show their love and support for the community, giving back to those less fortunate.

William, however, was feeling slightly out of place as the only one arriving without his date. Auston had an arm around Charlie; Mitch stood next to his fiancé Stephanie; Mo held Tessa closely; Tavares had Aryne und his arm; even Rasmus had his young blonde date by his side, standing next to Timothy, who had managed to bring his long-time crush - a feat that William had helped him achieve.

A light feeling of disappointment ran through his heart, though he knew that Julia would arrive as soon as she could. He understood how important her work was to her, and if anyone would understand her priorities, it should be professional athletes. And to his luck, his disappointment was cut short as Charlie spoke out, "Oh, yes," spotting Julia slightly nervously descending the staircase, her entrance prompting the rest of the group to turn their heads in the same direction.

And William couldn't hide his excitement as he saw his date for the night gracefully making her way down the stairs. Julia was dressed in her royal dark blue, floor-length gown with a daring slit that revealed a hint of her leg with each step. Her blue and golden heels peeked out beneath the dress, giving her 5”2 a few more inches, and her hair was elegantly styled in a low ponytail with loose curls. Her makeup was bold and striking, yet it enhanced her natural beauty, and her golden jewellery matched her clutch perfectly.

"Hey, Willy, I think you've got a bit of drool... right there," Justin Holl joked, teasing William as Julia reached the bottom of the stairs. And the comment wasn’t without reason, as his face showed nothing but pure admiration, looking intensely at the blonde woman, making her way into the hall.

“Oh, shut up,” William chuckled, trying to regain his composure, and started walking towards his absolutely stunning date, where she greeted him with a radiant smile.

"Hey," she spoke softly. "I'm sorry I'm late."

William couldn't help but chuckle lightly. "It's okay – just glad you didn’t leave me hanging."

"So, do I look alright?” Julia asked, an almost concerned smile appearing on her face, making him pause for a brief moment, letting out a deep breath.

"JJ, you look…" he struggled to find the words. "You look amazing," he then managed to articulate, even though a dozen other adjectives were running through his mind to describe her beauty.

Her smile grew wide. "Well, you did pick out the dress.”

"Maybe, but I didn't do the rest," William chuckled, gesturing to her impeccable styling. “It looks good.”

"Thanks, you don't look half bad yourself,” Julia chuckled, admiring William's dark blue, almost black tailored suit. His unruly hair had been nicely tamed, and his scruff was neatly trimmed. And most importantly, no moustache.

"Thanks, JJ."

With smiles lighting up their faces, William extended his arm, which Julia gladly accepted, and they walked back to the group together. She greeted the other guests with a warm smile, and they all exchanged compliments and kind words.

Of course, Rasmus couldn't resist a playful remark. "Didn't know you could clean up like this," he cheekily joked, giving Julia a compliment in his own mischievous way.

"And here I thought I might actually get a genuine compliment from you, Sandin," Julia replied with a playful smile, which earned a chuckle from the Swede. "But I'm just impressed you actually managed to find a date for yourself," she fired back with a wink.

“She drew the short straw,” William added, wearing a cheeky grin, which earned hearty laughter from the group and a playful huff from Rasmus.

And so, the group made their entrance into the gala, each holding a glass of champagne, their faces adorned with broad smiles, and their spirits soaring with joy and happiness.

The evening's hosts extended a warm welcome to all the attendees, sharing a few words and introducing the various groups and companies gathered for this worthy cause. The Maple Leafs, accompanied by their dates, found their seats, and before long, dinner was ready to be served. The atmosphere buzzed with vibrancy, and the room brimmed with excitement and happiness. The decor exuded elegance without going overboard, and a live band played lively jazz tunes, adding to the festive atmosphere. Tables were set with exquisite china, crystal glassware, and stunning floral centrepieces that added a touch of sophistication to the occasion.

Julia and William found themselves engrossed in lively conversations, discussing topics ranging from hockey to the upcoming holiday season with Sandin, Liljegren, Holl, and Kampf. Laughter and enjoyment punctuated their words, making it easy to forget the outside world and revel in the warmth of the moment. At the neighbouring table, Mitch and Auston, along with their dates, Tavares, Murray, and Rielly, engaged in their own animated discussions. The clinking of cutlery against plates created an anticipatory symphony as the gala's culinary delights began to arrive at their tables.

The starters were served to all the guests with an air of sophistication. Each plate held seared scallops atop a bed of mixed greens, elegantly drizzled with a zesty citrus dressing. The scallops were cooked to perfection, boasting a delightful crispness on the outside while remaining wonderfully tender within.

"Where do we even start?" Timothy, somewhat puzzled by the array of silverware, softly inquired, and Julia couldn't help but stifle a chuckle, her past experiences at gala dinners giving her familiarity with the proper etiquette.

"You start from the outside," she whispered, playfully winking, setting the table's other diners on the right path to enjoying the delectable meal.

"JJ," William confessed, "I don't even know which glass is for what."

Julia chuckled; her eyes filled with amusement. "Just follow my lead, and you'll do just fine."

Rasmus, always the cheerful presence, chimed in, "Who would have thought dinner could be this complicated? I just want to eat!"

Around the table, the uniformity of the dishes became apparent as everyone delved into their plates. Amidst the culinary indulgence, conversations flowed as the Maple Leafs players and their dates enjoyed both the fine cuisine and each other's company, savouring this sophisticated culinary experience.

The second appetiser made its grand entrance, continuing the culinary journey of the evening. On their plates, there was a beautifully seared foie gras, accompanied by a sweet and tangy fruit compote that provided a perfect balance to the richness of the foie gras. Each bite was a harmonious blend of textures and flavours that delighted the palate.

To everyone's amusement, Mitch couldn't hide his facial expressions, openly yearning for some pasta with sauce and not all this fancy stuff with more greens than he'd ever consumed in his entire life.

The main course was the pièce de resistance of the evening, and it was met with eager anticipation as it was brought to the tables. Each guest was presented with a beautifully plated filet mignon, cooked to perfection. The tender, juicy meat practically melted in their mouths, and it was accompanied by a luscious red wine reduction sauce that added a depth of flavour to every bite. On the side, there were creamy mashed potatoes, whipped to a velvety smoothness, and a medley of seasonal roasted vegetables that added a pop of colour and freshness to the dish.

As the guests savoured the main course, the room was filled with sounds of delight. Conversations flowed, and the Maple Leafs players and their dates shared their impressions of the exquisite meal.

"This beats any post-game meal, that's for sure," Rasmus quipped, his signature sense of humour shining through.

Dessert was the grand finale of the evening, and it was met with eager anticipation as the waitstaff elegantly placed each dessert plate in front of the guests.

The dessert was a work of art in itself – a rich and velvety chocolate mousse, adorned with a delicate chocolate ganache drizzle and garnished with fresh berries. The mousse practically melted in their mouths, and the bittersweet chocolate was perfectly complemented by the natural sweetness of the berries.

_

"Wise men say, only fools rush in."

As the night continued, people rose from their seats and started mingling around the tables and on the dance floor. Julia's heart swelled with affection as she observed William gracefully waltzing with an elderly lady. It was a heart-warming display of his charm and kindness, effortlessly connecting with people of all ages. The elegantly dressed lady wore a radiant smile that spoke volumes about her joy in his company.

Julia couldn't help but admire how William's genuine warmth and good nature made him not only a star on the ice but also in the hearts of those around him. It was moments like these that showcased his true character, and she felt fortunate to have such a remarkable friend and date by her side.

After a couple of dances, William gracefully escorted the elderly lady back to her seat, his smile reflecting the utmost respect he showed her. Her eyes sparkled with gratitude as she leaned in close and whispered into his ear, her voice filled with sincerity. "Thank you, young man. You've made this evening truly special for me."

William nodded graciously. "I appreciate the kind words," he replied, clearly moved by her heartfelt remarks. Intrigued by the meaningful exchange, Julia watched him as he re-joined their group at the table, her curiosity piqued.

"So, what was that all about, Willy?"

He grinned, a mischievous glint in his eye, as he sat down next to her. "Seems like our dance really left an impression on her," he said. "She wants to make a generous donation to the charity."

His words made Julia unable to hide her expression; her eyes widened in surprise and admiration. "That's wonderful. You've got quite the charm with the ladies, don't you?" she playfully teased, earning a chuckle from him.

"Sometimes, a simple dance can make a big difference,” William responded with a modest smile.

And Julia couldn't help but smile back, adding a touch of playful banter. "I'd say 'I told you so,' but her generous donation pretty much says it all," she said, earning another chuckle from William.

“Alright, time to dance!” Tessa then suddenly exclaimed, encouraging the group to join the dance floor.

Julia, however, had a different plan in mind. "Oh, I believe I need a stronger drink before I even set foot out there," she playfully remarked, earning nods and chuckles from her friends. Charlie chimed in, agreeing with a grin, feeling the need for some liquid courage before hitting the dance floor. Auston, ever the gentleman, took the opportunity to showcase his manners.

"Don't worry, babe, that shouldn't be a problem," he cheekily smirked, signalling to some of the other lads to fetch drinks for the ladies.

As the gents headed to the bar, the ladies were left to their own devices, quickly engaging in lively conversation, their laughter and chatter filling the air as they eagerly awaited their refreshing drinks. Shortly after, the men returned, each bearing a drink for their dates and non-alcoholic options for themselves, being mindful of the upcoming away game.

William, with a sly grin, handed Julia her drink. "Gin and tonic, with Hendricks," he offered, and she couldn't help but smile and admire how he had remembered her favourite beverage, a detail she had only mentioned once back in August.

"Thank you," she replied softly, accepting the drink, and the group settled in to continue their conversation.

Amidst the lively discussion, Julia couldn't resist stealing glances at William. Her mind wandered as she appreciated his thoughtfulness and his ability to remember so many details from their initial meeting. She thought about how with each interaction, he continued to impress her, deepening the connection she felt towards him. She was intrigued by the way he effortlessly navigated social situations, whether it was engaging in meaningful conversations or simply being attentive to the needs of those around him.

And her glances didn't go unnoticed. William's gaze locked onto Julia's as well, and for a brief, intimate moment, their eyes communicated feelings that words couldn't capture. It was a connection that transcended spoken language, a silent understanding that seemed to grow stronger with each passing moment. However, the spell was broken as the others diverted their attention, and they returned to the group conversation.

"Alright, let's go dancing now," Tessa announced, prompting the girls to make their way to the dance floor. Despite their elegant gowns, they moved gracefully, swaying to the music, while the gentlemen kept their undivided attention on their dates.

William's eyes remained fixed on Julia, captivated by her radiant happiness and beauty as she danced with her girlfriends. He couldn't help but admire the effort she had put into her appearance as his date for the evening, and her graceful movements on the dance floor only added to her allure.

After a few songs, the band decided to shift to melodies more suitable for slow dancing, setting the stage for couples to share intimate moments. As the girls prepared to make their way back to the table, William had a plan of his own.

He gracefully approached the girls and, with a charming smile, extended his hand to Julia. "Mind if I have the next dance?"

His words were delivered with a firm and confident tone, laced with a cheeky undertone, and he played the role of a slightly posh gentleman.

Julia couldn't help but smile at his playful act, and she was genuinely pleased by his request. With a nod and a warm smile, she agreed to accompany him back to the dance floor.

“Not at all,” Julia smiled, taking hold of his hand as they moved together. They effortlessly recreated the dance moves they had practiced in William's living room.

His hand found her waist, and hers rested on his shoulder as they swayed to the slow song, Elvis Presley's classic ballad "Can't Help Falling in Love" playing from the speakers.  

As they moved to the music, their eyes met, and a silent understanding passed between them. There was an undeniable chemistry in the air, and the world around them seemed to fade as they shared this special moment together. The music, the dimly lit room, and the feeling of William's hand in hers created an atmosphere of intimacy that was impossible to ignore.

“Thank you for tonight,” Julia whispered softly.  

“I think it should be me thanking you, JJ,” William cheekily replied. “For being my date.”  

“Well, I’m just glad that you invited me,” she said almost shyly.  

William leaned in closer, whispering softly, “I wouldn’t want anyone else here tonight.”  

Julia's blue eyes locked intensely with his as they danced so close that their bodies almost entirely touched. Her smile widened as she simply enjoyed the company of her best friend, allowing herself to be moved by the warm atmosphere.  

William couldn't help but smile as well. Their closeness brought warmth to his heart, and he relished having Julia so nearby. He truly meant what he said: he wouldn't want anyone else as his date. Julia had come to mean so much to him, and he was beginning to realise just how significant a place she held in his heart.  

Meanwhile, at the table, Mitch couldn't help but notice the undeniable chemistry between the two of them. So, he leaned into Auston with a mischievous grin. "I give it two weeks," he teased, hinting that he believed William and Julia would transition from friends to a romantic couple. 

Auston, equally playful, responded, "Alright, I'm guessing four weeks then. They won't admit it sooner." They made a bet based on their predictions. 

Mo, overhearing their conversation, chimed in with a laugh, "I'm in, too. I'll go with six weeks." Earning the other Swedes at the table joined in, offering their own timelines for when they thought William and Julia might officially become a couple. 

As the song came to a gentle end, they both returned to the present moment and broke apart, their smiles lingering as they re-joined the group, the warmth of their shared dance still filling the air between them.  

The evening had slowly grown late, and with the event winding down, guests began to make their way towards the exit. William, always the gentleman, offered to drive Julia home, a gesture she gladly accepted. The night air was cool and filled with a sense of magic as they made their way to his car.  

During the drive, they continued to talk about the wonderful moments of the evening. Laughter and shared memories filled the car, making the journey feel shorter than it was, and William couldn't help but steal glances at Julia, admiring her animated expressions and the way her eyes sparkled when she recounted funny anecdotes from the night.  

As they pulled up to her apartment building, Julia felt a surge of happiness. She couldn't contain her excitement and, feeling bold in the warm afterglow of the evening, she leaned in and placed a gentle kiss on William's cheek. "Goodnight, Willy," she said with a sweet, lingering smile.  

"Goodnight, JJ," he replied, his heart doing somersaults. He watched as she disappeared into her building, his mind racing with thoughts and emotions he hadn't fully explored before.  

On the drive back to his own place, the streets seemed quieter, the world a little different, and William couldn't help but reflect on the evolving feelings he had for Julia, who had become his close friend in such a short matter of time. 

Reaching her front door, and shedding her heels once inside, Julia felt the enchantment of her Cinderella fairy-tale waiver off. The evening had been nothing short of amazing; the atmosphere, the food, the company of her friends, and not to mention the company of William. Their dance had held them closely, and the entire night had filled her body with warmth and joy. She couldn’t help but smile to herself by the mere thought, as he undressed, removed her make-up and undid her hairdo. If anyone had asked her six months ago, if she’d ever imagine herself being involved in NHL gala events, not to mention attend games every week and spend time outside work with the team and their significant others, she would have responded with a firm ‘no’.

But tonight, as she was in bed post gala, she fell asleep with a smile on her face.

_   

Saturday 3rd - TMB 4 - TOR 3 

In the six days that followed, the Toronto Maple Leafs were back on the road, and much to Julia's joy, she had the delightful task of keeping Pablo and Banksy company while William was on the road. It had by now almost become her official responsibility as Willy’s best friend, and in her opinion best option, and she took it very seriously. She absolutely adored the two fluffy doodles, and not to mention spending some time a William’s condo was an absolute treat.

And of course, they had their regular calls and texting, for papa Willy to stay updated.

On Saturday, the Maple Leafs faced off against Tampa Bay in Florida, just a couple of days after the dazzling gala. Inside the locker room, the players went through their usual pre-game routines - getting those skates laced up and mentally revving themselves up for the impending challenge. The atmosphere was charged with anticipation, and the lads were itching to hit the ice.

However, despite a valiant effort from the Leafs, not even Mitch's impressive 19-game point streak, powered by his two goals, could secure a victory. The game concluded with a hard-fought 4-3 win for the Tampa Bay Lightning in overtime at Amalie Arena.

As they left the ice, the Maple Leafs held their heads high, knowing they'd played their hearts out and done their best. Although the loss was a tough pill to swallow, it served as a valuable lesson for the games to follow, and they were determined to learn from their mistakes and come back even stronger in the next showdown.

Inside the locker room after the game, emotions ran the gamut from disappointment to determination. The players analysed the game's highs and lows, breaking down their performance to pinpoint areas for improvement. 

However, Mitch, always quick with a witty remark, couldn't resist lightening the mood with a bit of playful teasing. So, he brought up William's evident attraction to Julia, which had been unmistakable at the recent charity event. With a mischievous grin, he raised an eyebrow and jestingly asked, "Hey, Will, what's the deal with you and JJ, eh? We all saw the sparks flying at that charity.”

The comment came a little out of nowhere, and if William hadn’t expected for it to have come sooner, it would probably have caught him off guard. However, William knew his teammates well enough to know that they’d noticed everything at the event, and though he held no regrets, he knew they’d dwelled on his actions and chatted among each other.

But despite the cheeky comment from Mitch, William, not so easily intimidated by the third degree, simply chuckled. "Oh, come on, Mitch, you're making things up. JJ’s just my best friend, nothing more."

"Hold on a second, I thought I was your best friend,” Rasmus chimed in, adding a touch of levity.

William laughed and tried to clarify, "You are! I mean, she's my best girl... friend... oh, come on, you know what I mean." His response earned more laughter from the teammates.

However, despite the quick and easy response from the talented Swede, the rest of the team wasn’t ready to let it go. Mitch’s cheeky remark had opened the flood.  

"Well, just make sure to invite us all to the wedding!" Auston chimed in with a grin.

"Yeah," Timothy added with a playful tone. "Maybe it should be an outdoor affair in Sweden or something," he jokingly suggested.

And all while the guys shared their thoughts and comments, William kept shaking his head offering smiles and chuckles. 

"I'll be your best man, maybe, unless you go with Alex, of course," Rasmus continued the banter.

"We're all free that day, just let us know when!" Mitch shouted before leaving the guest’ locker room.

"Oh, shut up," William laughed heartily, enjoying the jokes and tease of his teammates.

Amidst the laughter and the playful banter, William couldn't help but acknowledge that there was a kernel of truth in those boyish jokes. Julia was undeniably a close friend, and he couldn't deny the unique place she’d held in his heart since that intimate night back in August. And in his mind, she was more than just amazing; she had seamlessly become an integral part of the team's inner circle. Her mere presence infused the room with joy and happiness. What was even more extraordinary was how effortlessly he had managed to open up to her, sharing thoughts and feelings that he hadn't with anyone else. Julia was indeed someone out of the ordinary, and William couldn't help but cherish the bond they shared.

After the game, William wasted no time and immediately reached for his phone to call Julia as soon as he settled into his hotel room, and as her FaceTime call connected, a warm smile naturally crept onto his face. There she was, nestled on his familiar sofa, cocooned in a cosy blanket, with Pablo comfortably settled in her lap and Banksy faithfully by her side. The sight of her filled him with a sense of comfort and happiness.

"Hey, Willy," Julia greeted with genuine excitement as she answered the call, her eyes sparkling with warmth.

"Hey, JJ, feeling comfortable?" William chuckled; his voice laced with affection as he noticed how she had wrapped herself in his blanket.

Julia had just returned from a brisk walk with the dogs, making the most of the time between the end of the game and her awaited call with William. However, the weather had been rather awful, so she’d hurried back inside. "Honestly, I don't mind the cold at all, but the storm and the rain!" she chuckled, her cheeks slightly flushed from the cold weather. “I’m no fan…”

William joined in her laughter, and his heart swelled with fondness. "I thought you were used to it from England?"

"Well, yeah, but still, back then, I didn't have to walk dogs so late in the evening in bloody stormy weather," she added with a light laugh, her eyes reflecting the playfulness of their banter.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I guess next time, I'll just ask someone else to watch them then," William replied, adopting a mock-serious tone, his eyes gleaming mischievously.

"No, no, no," Julia pleaded, her voice filled with genuine concern. "That's not what I meant… please don't take them away from me." 

William couldn't help but continue laughing, his fondness for her growing with every passing moment. "Alright then, well, I'm sorry about the storm."

The tone of the conversation settled into a comfortable warmth, and they both sat there, smiles gracing their faces, bathed in the soft glow of the screen.

"It's alright, although I do dread getting home right now… so I'll just enjoy your sofa for a little while longer, though it doesn’t seem like it’ll wear off," she flashed him a sweet smile through the phone.

"JJ, you know… you can just stay there if you'd like."

Julia was slightly taken aback by his casual proposal, her eyes searching his for any hint of insincerity. "Oh… no, no thanks, Willy - I don't want to intrude on your private space..." Her voice held a hint of hesitation.

But William, ever nonchalant, simply chuckled, his eyes conveying a depth of warmth and sincerity. "JJ, I think we're a bit past that already," he replied, a soft smile playing on his lips. "I mean, you've probably already spent more time at my condo than me this season."

"Hmm… that may be a little true," Julia lightly giggled.

"Besides, it'd make me feel more at ease if I knew you didn't have to drive in that stormy weather…" William said softly and calmly, his voice carrying a note of concern.

Julia took a moment to gaze at the man through her phone, her heart touched by his consideration. She realised that his offer was indeed a splendid idea, as she could really use a warm bed and sooner rather than later.

So, she offered him a simple nod, her eyes reflecting gratitude. "Alright… but just for your sake," she casually joked. "I wouldn't want you to worry too much."

The two of them shared another moment of laughter, before William explained where everything she'd need was placed in the condo. Although she’d probably manage to find it herself as she’d come to know his place rather well by now. He even suggested she pick a t-shirt from his closet to sleep in, an idea she initially hesitated about but eventually decided was quite appealing.

"Thank you, Willy," Julia spoke softly, her voice filled with warmth, her fingers gently stroking Pablo in her lap.

"No problem, JJ, anything for you," William replied, before they turned in for the night. 

"Goodnight, Wonderboy, sleep tight." 

"Thanks, you too hjärtat," William replied with a soft smile, his voice filled with tenderness.

And with that, the call ended, and Julia made her way to William’s guests room to make herself comfortable.

[rarepears]

Wait, so in dad YQY au, the other Peak Lords don't know who SJ's mom would be, right? What if they see the women at the Red Pavilion acting motherly towards him, and come to the conclusion one of them is his mom

It suddenly makes sense! SJ doesn't go to the brothel because he's a lecher, he goes to visit his mother!

Now, they just need to figure which of the women it is.

Well... to assume that Shen Jiu's mom is still working in a brothel would mean that Cang Qiong people think that Yue Qingyuan is a huge d-bag.

Most people would have the decency to buy out a prostitute's contract if they are going to acknowledge the prostitute's child as their child, you know? To take only the child, to separate child from mother like that... especially in an era where having concubines is okay...

Damn, how much more of a scumbag would Cang Qiong need to think that Yue Qingyuan must be.

I mean, it's clear that Yue Qingyuan is a scumbag on some level, but even this is far worse than previously assumed. At least being much too demanding on Shen Jiu (via all those physical punishments) can be twisted to be framed as just "being a strict parent" and "wanting the best for his children".

But this? There's no like reasonable justification - or none that I can think of - to allow the mother of your child to continue slaving away (since prostitutes are more or less slaves considering that they can't just simply leave a brothel whenever they want; they need to redeem their contract with a set sum). ALSO! Working conditions for prostitutes, no matter how high class, is still not good.

Damn, we really are dragging Yue Qingyuan through the mud here.

[becomewings]

BTS Universe Timeline

« previous  |

TIMELINE GUIDE

Content warning: contains references to death, suicide, suicidal ideation, child abuse, domestic violence, blood, homicide, depression, trauma, PTSD

This guide contains major spoilers from all BU media

Revisions and additions will be made as necessary, so please visit the original post for the most up-to-date version (update log is included at bottom of post)

All names are provided as fully as known

Bracketed dates are inferred or calculated from references in the text

While the timeline is presented here as objectively as possible, I acknowledge that there is a level of subjectivity in choosing which information is significant enough for inclusion and in certain connections drawn between entries

Please inform me of any suspected errors; I will investigate and correct them

Do not repost, copy, or quote without permission

School Years: Together & Apart

    - March Year 19 through 10 April Year 22 -

2 March Year 19 Notes 1 (SJ)

Ten days after returning from the U.S., SeokJin and his father visit the principal’s office at his new school. SeokJin learns that he will start one grade lower due to the different education systems. SeokJin’s father grips his shoulder while the principal explains that school is a “dangerous place” that needs to be “tightly controlled.” He asks: “You know you have to keep me informed, right? You’ll be a good student, right?” SeokJin squeezes out a “yes” and his father lets go. Both ChangJun and the principal laugh. SeokJin looks down at their shining shoes, wondering from where the light is coming.

Note: SeokJin’s 25 June Year 19 entry in Notes 1 specifies that his father attended the same high school. JiMin’s 23 July Year 22 entry in Notes 2 reveals that, according to a comment he finds on an online news article, ChangJun and the principal were in school at the same time and fought with each other “as if it would only end when one of them dropped dead,” but they appeared to get along later due to politics.

3 March Year 19 BTS Universe Story: The Boy on the Threshold, ep.1

On the first day of school at Songju Jeil High School, the Dean of Students berates the six latecomers lined up outside: SeokJin, NamJoon, HoSeok, JiMin, TaeHyung, and JungKook. YoonGi arrives even later. The Dean assigns them one month of community service as punishment. When he notices SeokJin, he clears his throat and says he is letting them off because it’s the first day: they must all assemble after classes to clean the annex, a classroom turned into a storage room. This room becomes their meeting place and hideout even after their punishment is finished.

Note: Their punishment for being late is referenced in JiMin’s 12 March Year 19 entry in Notes 1, when he escapes to the old classroom again and finds the others already there. He observes that it feels as though they’ve been “hanging out together forever.” The punishment scene is also similar to a moment in the BTS Begins Middle Scene VCR. Although it includes a few extra students and cannot be confirmed as BU content, it does mirror the canonical detail of YoonGi arriving last.

28 May Year 19 Notes: Answer

In the classroom hideout, JungKook asks everyone what their dreams are because he has to write a paper about future hopes. SeokJin wants to become a good person, and YoonGi says it’s okay to have no dream. TaeHyung poses on a chair and says he’s going to be a superhero. HoSeok scolds him and adds that he wants to find his mom and live happily. JiMin asks him if he is unhappy now, and HoSeok pulls an exaggeratedly worried expression. “Is that how it works?” JiMin is flustered when HoSeok asks what his dream is and remembers that when he was in preschool he wanted to be president, but didn’t know what he wanted after that. Everyone looks at NamJoon, who shrugs and confesses that while he wants to say something nice, he doesn’t have a dream either and just wishes that his part-time job pays more. JungKook looks down at his assignment, divided into sections for “student” and “parent,” and wonders what he hopes to become. He can’t think of anything to write.

12 June Year 19 — The Sea Notes 1

YoonGi’s entry:

All seven boys cut school and decide to go to the sea. They have little money between them, so they must walk to the train station. As they leave, YoonGi almost bumps into JiMin and realizes that he is standing frozen with a trembling face. JiMin stares at a sign that reads “2.1km to Grass Flower Arboretum.” YoonGi flatly tells him that it’s too hot to go to the arboretum. He has an “instinctive feeling” that they should avoid it. He observes that JiMin walks away like a little kid, head bent and shoulders hunched.

JungKook’s entry:

The boys arrive at the beach. They hang around under a torn parasol until HoSeok holds up a discovery on his phone: a large rock that is supposed to grant your dream if you stand atop it and shout your dream out to the sea. TaeHyung encourages them to go. While they grumble in the heat on the long trek, JungKook reflects on how he had recently asked the others what their dreams were. (See 28 May Year 19.) None of them really have a dream to pursue.

YoonGi tells JungKook to stop biting his nails or else they’ll become like his. Then he asks JungKook what his dream is. Having never thought about it, JungKook doesn’t know. He hesitates and then asks what a dream is. HoSeok rattles off a few definitions from his phone. YoonGi questions, “How can something that you want to achieve most in your life and something that is unlikely to come true both be called a dream? … Don’t ever try to have a dream.” JungKook asks why. At his glance, YoonGi stops biting his nails and puts his hands in his pockets. “Because it’s tough having one.” JungKook is curious about why YoonGi bites his nails but doesn’t ask. He recalls that it has been a habit since his childhood to hurt himself. He remembers cutting his finger on a knife badly enough that his mom took him to the hospital, but she didn’t take care of him after they went home. His wound healed slowly because he kept pressing it; the pain helped him feel awake. Even now, he sometimes feels hollow.

TaeHyung asks how much longer they have to walk. HoSeok is puzzled, saying they should be close. They gaze around the empty, pebbled beach. JiMin sighs and reads aloud from an article on his phone. A resort will be built on this beach, and the construction company blew up the rock. They notice the cordoned off construction zone. They try to reassure each other to remain positive, but they all feel the disappointment of walking all that way for nothing. JungKook notices YoonGi biting his nails again and tries to stop him, but he is interrupted by a loud drilling noise. JungKook looks past him at the sea and all that remains of the dream-granting rock, the pebbles under their feet. “Is the world tough for you, too?” he asks, but YoonGi can’t hear him. JungKook screams again. “Do you want to give up on this world, too?” HoSeok and TaeHyung laugh at their mimed conversation. They all look out to the sea and shout their dreams. The drilling is so loud that they can’t hear each other. JungKook cannot even hear his own dream. When the noise stops, they cut off abruptly and laugh. SeokJin suggests that they take a photo. He sets the timer and runs to join their row, the sea behind them. They walk back to the train station. JungKook asks if he can keep the photo. SeokJin writes “June 12” on the back and gives it to him, telling him that his dream will come true. JungKook asks if SeokJin knows what he shouted to the sea, and SeokJin merely taps his shoulder and strides ahead.

BTS Universe Story : The Boy on the Threshold, ep.3

JungKook’s memory of the beach trip follows a similar structure to the scene in Notes 1, plus a notable addition. After they fail to find the dream-granting boulder, JungKook climbs up on the pier railing. He thinks: “I’ve always liked walking on the edge of walls or on top of lines. Focusing on centering my gravity means that I don’t really think of anything else, and the boundary—not quite a part of either place—always felt like where I should be.” Someone grabs his arm while he precariously balances. YoonGi tells him not to do that, and JungKook assures him that he won’t fall.

“YoonGi would often grab my arm when I walked on railings. The others would look after me, too, after seeing him do that. I liked their helping hands. It felt like they were telling me that I should go to them. That this wasn’t my place. Maybe their hands were why I walked on the railings.”

25 June Year 19 Notes 1 (SJ)

Alone in the classroom hideout, SeokJin finds a plant by the window. He takes pictures with his phone but doesn’t think they capture what the human eye sees. He notices that “HoSeok’s plant” is scribbled on the floor beneath the pot and then realizes that the window sills, walls, and ceiling are covered with graffiti and drawings, messages left behind by the students who once passed through that room. He wonders if there were past teachers who used violence and endless tests or students like him who ratted out their friends to the principal. Since his father also attended that high school, SeokJin looks for his name on the walls and finds it with a phrase written underneath: “Everything started from here.”

Note: TaeHyung, JiMin, NamJoon, and YoonGi discover several other familiar names near Kim ChangJun (SeokJin’s father) on the classroom wall in TaeHyung’s 23 July Year 22 entry from 7’s album Notes and the extended version in Notes 2.

30 August Year 19 Notes: Her

JiMin plays in HoSeok’s shadow while he is on the phone, reflecting on how HoSeok has accompanied him on the two-hour walk home since the beginning of the school semester. JiMin eventually realized that HoSeok didn’t live in the same direction but never questioned him, simply hoping that their time walking together would stretch the day out a little longer. HoSeok finishes on the phone and chases after him while the cicadas sing and their ice creams melt. Suddenly, JiMin is afraid, wondering how many of these days are left.

20 March Year 20 Notes 1 (TH)

TaeHyung sneaks up on NamJoon in the hallway by their classroom hideout. He stops when he hears SeokJin’s voice inside, apparently informing the principal about how TaeHyung and YoonGi had ditched school and got in a fight over the past few days. SeokJin throws open the door, phone in hand, and looks flustered to see NamJoon standing there. TaeHyung hides in a corner and is shocked to hear NamJoon assure him, “It’s OK. There must’ve been a good reason.” HoSeok and JiMin find TaeHyung in the hallway, and HoSeok pulls him into the classroom. NamJoon beams at TaeHyung as though nothing strange has happened. Believing that NamJoon “must have his reasons” because he is more intelligent and mature, TaeHyung decides not to tell anyone about the conversation he overheard.

15 May Year 20 Notes 1 (NJ)

NamJoon visits the classroom hideout on his last day of school. Two weeks prior, his family decided that they needed to move due to complications with his father’s health and their overdue rent. NamJoon tries to write a message on a piece of paper. He scribbles “I must survive” before the pencil lead snaps. He crumples the paper and writes in the dust on the window instead.

“No farewell message would be enough to let the others know how I felt. At the same time, no farewell message was needed to make myself understood. ‘See you again.’ It was a wish, rather than a promise.”

Note: “I must survive” is a recurring message tied to NamJoon in the BU MVs. See also 17 December Year 21.

7 June Year 20 Notes: Persona

TaeHyung’s two month old puppy Dubu slips out of the leash and disappears while he is distracted on his phone. TaeHyung runs around the neighborhood looking for him, first angry at the puppy and then blaming himself. When Dubu returns on his own, TaeHyung is filled with the unfamiliar feeling that he is someone who can be relied on.

11 June Year 20 BTS Universe Story: The Boy on the Threshold, ep.5 Everyone’s Place

In the classroom hideout, JungKook listens to YoonGi playing the piano. The sound of the music makes him feel as if YoonGi understands how he feels and is trying to console him. The Dean of Students forces the door open, demanding why they are there. He berates and slaps JungKook, knocking him to the floor. YoonGi steps between them and shoves the teacher’s shoulder. The dean warns him that he had better be prepared for the consequences of putting his hands on a teacher and then leaves. Despite his throbbing cheek, JungKook smiles because it is the first time someone has protected him, and the feeling of getting closer to YoonGi makes him giddy. For the next two weeks, YoonGi does not come to school.

25 June Year 20 Notes 1

JungKook’s entry:

JungKook tries to play the piano in the classroom hideout, unable to make it sound like YoonGi did. He reflects on the rumor that YoonGi was expelled after the events of 11 June and wonders if YoonGi would still be here playing the piano if JungKook had not been there that day when the teacher appeared.

YoonGi’s entry:

Breathing hard, YoonGi arrives at his bedroom, removes a half-burned piano key from an envelope in his desk drawer, and throws it into the trash can. He remembers a day four years ago when he returned to their burned down home and found a skeleton of the piano where his mother’s room used to stand. He noticed several piano keys on the ground and took one of them, wondering what note it was and how many times her fingers touched it. In the present, YoonGi thinks how unbearable living under his father’s rule is and recalls what happened that day: he is officially expelled from school. He picks up the piano key again and hurls it out the window.

“I couldn’t hear the piano key hit the ground. Now I’d never know what note it made. It’d never make a sound again. I’d never play the piano again.”

17 July Year 20 Notes 1 (SJ)

At the end of the last school day before summer vacation, SeokJin tries to leave quickly but is hailed by HoSeok and JiMin. No one knows that he was pressured by the principal and revealed their hideout, which led to JungKook and YoonGi being discovered (11 June) and the latter’s expulsion (25 June). HoSeok wishes SeokJin a good vacation and to keep in touch, but he can’t reply.

“My first day at this school crossed my mind as I passed through the school gate. We were all late and got punished. But we were together, so we could laugh together. I had ruined all those memories we shared.”

Note: Variations of the sentiment “we can laugh when we’re together” recur throughout BU.

15 September Year 20 Notes 1 (HS)

In the hospital emergency room, HoSeok wants to explain how JiMin had a seizure at the bus stop to his mother, Sim SeonMi. When the doctors wheel JiMin’s bed out, HoSeok begins to follow until SeonMi thanks him and touches his shoulder. He feels like she has drawn a line between them that he cannot cross. He falls to the floor, and when he looks up, JiMin’s bed is gone.

Note: The name of JiMin’s mother is specified in his BTS Universe Story arc, Stopped Time. JiMin’s 11 May Year 22 entry in Notes 1 reflects that he blacked out at the bus stop after seeing the window of the Grass Flower Arboretum shuttle bus open. His 12 August Year 22 entry in Notes 2 reveals the real cause of JiMin’s seizure at the bus stop: he sees the boy that he left behind at the arboretum warehouse on 6 April Year 11. Though the boy’s empty eyes no longer speak to JiMin, this chance encounter awakens his memories of that day.

28 September Year 20 Notes: Her and Smeraldo Books Twitter

JiMin, heavily medicated, has lost track of how long he has been back in the hospital. But he considers this a special day because he lies to the doctor for the first time about not remembering anything.

Note: He is lying about not remembering what triggered his seizure at the bus stop on 15 September and/or what happened at the Grass Flower Arboretum when he was a kid (see Notes 2 comments above). This lie is also referenced in his 11 May Year 22 entry in Notes 1.

30 September Year 20 Notes 1 (JK)

A teacher hits JungKook with an attendance book when he refuses to admit that he still visits the classroom hideout, reminding him of when YoonGi was beaten. Later, JungKook stands outside the room and imagines that the others are waiting for him on the other side. He opens the door to only find HoSeok, clearing out what remains of their belongings. HoSeok walks him out, and JungKook realizes that those days are gone and will never come again.

25 February Year 21 Notes: Her (HS)

HoSeok watches himself dance in the mirror. He has danced since he was around twelve and discovered an ecstasy that came from inside himself. Outside of the mirror, HoSeok is a person who collapses everywhere and takes medicine he doesn’t need, who smiles even when he hates it and isn’t happy. But when he dances, he truly becomes himself, casting away all that weighs him down and feeling that he can become happy.

2 May Year 21 Notes: Persona (JK)

Biking along the Yangjicheon riverbank, JungKook thinks about how his friends left him one by one and that no one at home or in the world smiles at him anymore. He stops in the shadows under a bridge. Nobody comes to this kind of ruined place, and maybe that is the reason no one comes to him either. He feels most comfortable alone in the complete darkness where no one will look for him and wants the moment to never end.

9 August Year 21 Notes: Persona (SJ)

SeokJin walks along a Los Angeles beach and photographs the ocean. It has been a year since he fled Songju and moved to his mother’s family’s home, where he grew up as a child. He doesn’t photograph people anymore and didn’t bring any photos from high school with him, afraid to remember who he was at that time or to wonder about how his friends are doing and whether they still think of him.

17 December Year 21 Notes 1 (NJ)

This lengthy entry details events that transpired since the autumn of Year 20 when NamJoon’s family moved to the village, framed by moments on 17 December itself as NamJoon leaves on his own. His family chooses this village because it has a nearby hospital for his ailing father and employers who will hire someone without a high school diploma. NamJoon serves as a delivery boy for an eatery, competing for work with the other local boys. They grow a strange sense of solidarity, and he privately dubs one of them “TaeHyung,” even though the boy’s discontent, outward behavior is more akin to YoonGi’s. (Quotation marks added to the name here for clarity.) Competition slackens when snow falls in winter. NamJoon and “TaeHyung” are the only ones poor enough to risk the road up to the mountain town’s rest area when orders are phoned to the village below. On an afternoon forecast to have heavy snowfall, the restaurant owner dismisses “TaeHyung” due to his bruised face and gives the deliveries to NamJoon. The old delivery scooter fishtails on NamJoon’s third trip down the mountain, throwing him off. More anxious about the scratched scooter than his cut ankle and aching body, NamJoon finally gets it to restart and returns to the eatery. “TaeHyung,” who has been hanging around this whole time, approaches and asks for a favor. Before he can answer, NamJoon receives a call from his mother relaying that his father went outside alone and fell, requiring a trip to the hospital. NamJoon understands that his father was only trying to keep his dignity but is still frustrated because he can’t earn any more much-needed money this day. He hands “TaeHyung” the keys and leaves to take his father to the hospital.

The next day, NamJoon learns that “TaeHyung” was in a fatal accident during one of the deliveries up the mountain. The police officer blames him for being a poor driver and not wearing a helmet. NamJoon does not speak up that he has never seen the helmet the owner now has placed out on the counter. He visits the scene of the accident, thinking that the white outline on the road could be his if he was the one to make the next delivery—just as it could be his family mourning in the village instead of “TaeHyung’s” mother. On a later trip carrying his father home from the bus stop, NamJoon pretends not to hear his father’s frail voice over the noise of barking dogs. A week after that, NamJoon is making steady deliveries up the mountain. During what is ultimately his last delivery, he speaks with a stranger at the rest area, who cautions him to take care. “Do you know what’s really dangerous? Calcium chloride and wet leaves, not the snow itself,” the stranger blurts as NamJoon departs. NamJoon drives carefully back, not looking at the scene of the accident. This is not out of safety, as he tries to convince himself, but guilt: guilt for surviving, for his relief of being the one alive, for not defending “TaeHyung’s” driving skills. He also wonders if he is “a hypocrite pretending to have a guilty conscience.” Because he scattered wet leaves and sprinkled calcium chloride to prevent the road from icing over where he fell that afternoon, believing that he would be making the next delivery. If he did not do both those things, would “TaeHyung” be alive?

Mind and body numb, NamJoon makes it home from the delivery detached from the world around him. The barking dogs snap him out of the daze, and he remembers his father’s words that he pretended not to hear and dwelled on daily despite trying not to think about them: “Go, NamJoon. You must survive.” The next morning (17 December), NamJoon sneaks away to the bus stop. He is running away from his family’s misfortunes, from his own resignation to his fate, from poverty. The bus is scheduled to arrive in Songju in a few hours—the city he left with no notice and is returning to once more with the same. NamJoon wonders if his old friends still live there and how they are doing. On the frosted window, he writes with his finger: “I must survive.”

Note: The village boy’s real name is JongHun according to NamJoon’s 12 June Year 22 entry in Notes 2, which also reveals that he visited JongHun’s home to give his condolences before he left town.

1 February Year 22 Notes: 7 (SJ)

Summoned by his father without explanation, SeokJin flies back to Korea from Los Angeles. Although he has addresses in both LA and Songju, neither place feels like his home.

———————————————————

Update Log

Posted May 5, 2021

Do not repost.

[dc41896]

New Roommate

Pairing: Paul DiskantxBlack Reader

⚠️: Fluff, slight mentions of seggsy time

“We’re gonna have so much fun bubbas. We’re gonna go to the park, on hikes-oh! And the beach! I already know you’re gonna love it,” you beam rubbing noses with the two-month, blue nose pitbull who was trying to lick your face. “First though, I gotta get your dad on board.”

It’s not that your boyfriend didn’t want or like dogs. He always said how he’d love to have one someday when he was settled somewhere.

However that “somewhere” to Paul was a house with plenty yard space, an adequate amount of privacy, and maybe located in the suburbs. Not your recently renovated, two bedroom apartment you both just happened to move into about a month ago.

You made an agreement that you wouldn’t get any pets (well besides a fish, and a small one at that) to not risk messing anything up and having some sort of consequence, which would more than likely be in monetary form. Entranced by the short haired, too adorable for words pup though, you honestly could care less about the consequences.

Plus you just knew your little buddy wouldn’t cause any trouble. You could see that in his round, soft grey eyes.

“So, you’re gonna stay with your auntie Raye until I can work my charm on him okay?” The pup only tilts his head before letting out a small bark and making you pout as you hug him close. “I know but it’s only temporary. A night at most.”

Paul typically didn’t get home until later in the evening now that he was on a new case, so you had plenty of time to clean up any traces of dog left behind after Raye would leave and start cooking his favorite meal. As an added bonus, you also thought about your short, lilac, ruched number with spaghetti straps that always made his eyes light up when you wore it. He claimed it perfectly complimented your skin and made you look even more angelic as his hands always seemed to find your sides, the small of your back, or lower if you were right beside him (which of course you typically were).

However, hearing the familiar thud of boots journeying down the hall and rattling of keys, something told you that plan might not work now.

You quickly stand up, taking the probably confused puppy with you to the bathroom where you sit him in the empty tub, along with his new bone shaped chew toy, kneeling with a finger over your lips.

“Stay here and be really quiet okay?,” you whisper just as you hear the front door unlock. Quietly rushing to close the room door behind you, you muster your best ‘I wasn’t doing anything’ smile while you approached the tired looking man.

“Hey beautiful,” he greets, sweetly pecking your lips.

“Hey, you’re home early today.”

“Yea, we had a break in the case and went undercover to get the suspect which led to a chase, then a fight, and me having bruises forming as we speak.”

Dropping his bag by the dinner table, a sigh followed by a short wince leaves his mouth as he sinks into the leather couch cushions letting his head fall back and eyes close.

“Alright plan B it is,” you think to yourself moving behind him to gently massage his shoulders, occasionally letting your hands journey forward along his pecs giving them attention as well. Hearing a soft moan at his approaching relaxed state urges you to continue, knowing you’d soon have him exactly where you wanted.

“Aww I’m sorry babe. Where does it hurt?”

“My sides mostly, but my back a bit too.”

He helps you remove his fitted black shirt, a favorite of yours, letting out a short hiss from having to extend his sore muscles. Guiding him to lie down and placing one of the small throw pillows under his head, you straddle his lap letting your fingers drag along the red and light blue marks littering his sides.

“It doesn’t hurt when you breathe does it?”

“No.”

“What about this?,” you ask pressing down to feel him flinch under you.

“Ow! Babe-,”

“Sorry! Sorry just checking.” Watching him settle back into his comfortable position with arm draped over his forehead, you slowly bend forward, lips inches from his bruise looking up at your boyfriend through your lashes. “And this?”

You feel his low chuckle vibrate his muscular upper body as your gentle, open mouthed kisses scatter from each injury to eventually find the spot just below his ear.

“I feel better already,” he smiles tilting your chin so your soft lips could meld with his. Kiss growing deeper with each passing second.

“Hooked like a fish,” you thought, lips never ceasing while being brought closer to his body as he sat up with hands squeezing your hips.

“Baby wait,” he states slightly leaning his head back and making you pout. “Let me go shower first. I’m sweaty and probably stink-,”

“What’s the point when you’re just gonna get sweaty again?,” you smirk taking his now red, fuller bottom lip between your teeth.

“All the more reason for you to join me then.” You can’t fully enjoy the combination of his tongue and lips on your neck from your brain hurriedly trying to figure out how to stop this man from finding your little surprise in the bathroom.

“Your, um..sides though! You know it’s gonna hurt trying to shower so just stay here with me.”

“Is there a reason you don’t want me going in our bathroom?,” he asks detaching from your neck with one final bite to eye you suspiciously.

“No, of course not. I just missed you.” Batting your lashes, you nonchalantly let your nail trace a line from where his pendant sat down the middle of his abdomen and just above his buckle before he shifted, swiftly lying you on your back with one hand hooked under your knee bringing it around his waist.

Men. Always so easy.

Giggling as thumbs graze the lower band of your bra and lips return to their assault on your neck and collarbone, a high pitched bark along with scuffling makes you freeze as Paul lifts his head confused.

“You heard that right?”

“Y-Yeah. It’s probably from one of the neighbors. Speaking of dogs though-”

When the barks and scuffling become more frequent, you start to wonder if Raye would mind you staying the night since you’d surely need a place to stay with Paul being mad at you.

“Nah that sounds really close,” he replies unhooking your leg to go investigate for himself. The only thing you can do is sit and nervously wait for the inevitable hearing him open the bedroom door and eventually enter the bathroom. “Honey...!”

“Hmm?!,” you ask biting the corner of your lip, turning your head at the sound of Paul padding across the wooden floor holding the noisy pup.

“Mind telling me why this little guy was in our tub?”

“....Maybe he was a gift from the front office?,” you innocently shrug making him bring his free hand to his hip, sternly looking at you.

“Y/N...,”

“Alright. My coworker and I were bored one day and started looking through the pets the shelter had for adoption online and this little guy came across the screen and stole my heart.”

“Babe we talked about this. We can’t mess this place up.”

“I know and we won’t. Before you came home, we just hung out in here and he was so calm and sweet. Even in the tub he sat there like a good boy,” you smile standing up to scratch behind his ears making his tail wag against Paul’s side.

“That’s because he couldn’t get out since the tub is taller than him,” he retorts as you roll your eyes taking your new baby from his grasp.

“Cmon Paul look at this face and tell me you can say no.”

Holding the puppy at his eye level, there’s a few moments of silence as the two simply look at each other before the grey haired dog licks his cheek making him groan.

“You know I can’t say no. To either of you,” he softly smiles petting the short fur on his head. Seeing your pout as you bring your new friend next to your face, he lowly chuckles caressing your cheek as his lips find yours. “Alright he can stay.”

“Thank you!,” you excitedly squeal bouncing on the balls of your feet. “I already have the perfect name picked out.”

“What’s that?”

“Disco. After his dad,” you both laugh.

“Well, welcome to the family Disco,” he smiles taking him from your hands to place him on the floor where he began to sniff around getting acclimated to his new home. You’re caught off guard when you’re tossed over his broad shoulder, blood rushing to your head as you gently kick your legs laughing.

“Paul!”

“Disco, look after everything. Me and mom have some unfinished business,” he smirks closing the bedroom door behind him with his foot.

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[stusbunker]

A Gentlemen’s Agreement Epilogue

A Supernatural Denny AU Fan-fiction Series

Featuring: Dean Winchester/ Benny Lafitte

Other characters: Pamela, Jesse, Caesar, Crowley, Balthazar, Meg, Jo, Lee, Lisa, Sam (mentioned), Drea OFC, Robbie and SJ OMCs, Deanna OFC

Word count: 2340

A/N: Enjoy! xoxo Stu

Brunch

    The sun was bright, but the air was crisp. The remnants of the early snowstorm had left soggy lawns and damp sidewalks. Benny pulled up to the restaurant and parked on the curb, smiling over at Dean. He waited patiently. 

    “You sure this is a good idea?” Dean squinted in the midday light.

    “Been dying to meet ya. Figured it’s only fair, I met your folks, you can meet my people too,” Benny said simply. “But I’m not gonna force ya.”

    “I just, I’m not used to being out in public. In numbers,” Dean sputtered.

    Benny raised a single eyebrow at him. “Well, I guess this is your best shot to try it out, dontcha think?”

    “What if they don’t like me? I don’t want you to have to choose between me and your friends,” Dean explained the root of the problem.

    “I like you, they will too. Just relax, be your charming self and if you don’t know what to say, you can just keep eating.” Benny put his hand on Dean’s thigh, squeezing just so.

    Dean growled out a sigh. “Fine. But you’re paying.”

    Like that could make an uncomfortable situation worth it. Benny smirked at Dean’s logic, waiting for his face to soften from grouchy to amiable. Once Dean relaxed, Benny kissed him, just long enough to keep him flustered and climbed out of the truck.

     They approached a large round table midway along the heated patio, where four people were already seated.

A raven haired woman waved them over. “My good Benjamin, did you bring a straight boy to brunch, just for me?!”

“Pammy!” Benny leaned in and kissed her cheek. "Hate to disappoint ya darlin', but ain't nothing straight about this'n."

 “Hey, now! Can’t a guy speak for himself?!” Dean snipped defensively as he sat in the spot beside Benny.

Everyone laughed. Pamela raised her eyebrow in question.

Dean licked his lips and put on the smolder, “Sorry sweetheart, but I’m taken.”

“Wait, this--- THIS is your sassy mechanic?!” Crowley leaned forward, extending his hand, his English brogue gruff and pandering. “Nice to finally meet you, handsome.”

       Dean gave Benny the side eye and all Benny could do was shrug coyly. Dean shook the man’s hand, trying not to show his discomfort from his lingering glances. Benny made the rest of the introductions, Jesse and Cesar were also a couple, but had been married for a few years. They seemed to be waiting on someone before they ordered. The group sipped their cocktails with a fresh pitcher of Bloody Mary in the center of the kitsch tablecloth.

Benny poured Dean a generous portion of the red drink and slipped seamlessly into the conversation. Dean sucked the palmeto out of an olive and listened casually, not too sure where he fit in this part of Benny’s life.

Twenty minutes later a rail of a guy swaggered in, with oversized aviators and a black linen suit. 

“Oh, thank Christ for booze,” he huffed, grabbing Dean’s glass without even acknowledging Dean was there. The blonde chugged the entire drink, before breaking for air. “I just had the worst hook up of my life, no, well, the year at least. He took me to his mother’s house. She tried to make me breakfast. I was simply mortified. I just left. What could I even do at that point, honestly?!”

Now that his audience had his attention back, the man gawked at Dean. He even pulled down his sunglasses for a better look. “Now who the fuck is this? Is it show and tell?! Because I am not prepared in the least.” 

He casually patted at his hair and eyed Dean from top to toe. Benny chuckled, but Pamela was the one to make the introduction.

“Balthazar, our regular hangover diva. Meet Dean, Benny’s boy toy,” she deadpanned, eyes sparkling with mischief.

“Oh you can’t be serious,” Balthazar lamented, looking from Pam to Benny to Crowley and finally at Dean. “Fuck you southerners and your goddamn accents--- always gets the hotter ones,” he muttered defensively as he threw himself against the armrest of the chair, crossing his legs.

“Well, now that we’re all here,” Cesar ended the dramatics concisely. “Maybe somebody should find our waitress?”

Dean looked at Benny confused. “We’re always here for a while, she doesn’t bother us until we’re actually ready to order. Tend to annoy her otherwise.”

Crowley volunteered as he needed to head to the men’s room anyhow. Five minutes later he arrived with an obviously surly waitress.

“Well look what the cat dragged in,” Meg’s smokey voice broke through Balthazar's latest story. She centered herself between Cesar and Crowley’s seat and cocked her hip, tongue firmly in cheek as she waited for Dean to take her bait.

“Heya, Meg,” Dean sighed. The inevitable caught up with him after all, they just had to run into someone he knew.

“Oh, this has got to be good, now, pray tell, how do you two know each other?” Crowley probed.

“Oh me and this schmuck? We go way back.” Meg smiled without teeth.

“Is that so?” Benny tested the waters.

“Not like that,” Dean grumbled. “Meg, here, took my little brother Sammy out for a few spins, back in the day. Didn’t you, sweetheart?”

“Yeah, well, what can I say? It was high school.” Meg let her indifference coat her entire being until curiosity sparked to life in her eyes. “So what are you doing with this crowd, or did they bring you in just to add a new level of torture to my Sunday shifts?”

“Well---.” Dean swallowed, looked at Benny for clarification and got mild amusement instead. “I think you’re stuck with me now.”

“Joy,” Meg bristled before taking their orders, knowing most of the table’s usuals before they even opened their mouths.

News

    Benny rushed into the customer entrance of the shop, the wet October air had kept the service doors closed for the past week. He leaned against the counter, decorated in local business cards and charity fliers, anxiously waiting for someone to talk to. His chest was so tight he worried he’d pass out from excitement. He just needed to see him was all, once he saw Dean it would be easier.

    Lee sauntered in from the service bay, they both had drawn the short straw it seemed.

    “Hey, mind getting Dean for me? It’s important,” Benny asked, unable to keep the burning smile from his face.

    Lee eyed him curiously but nodded and headed back the way he came. He didn’t shout, not really. “Dean-o, your boyfriend’s looking for ya.”

    Dean unfurled himself from the engine he had been tinkering with all morning and glared at Lee.

    “Husband, whatever, seems urgent,” Lee acquiesced. Dean nodded and wiped his hands off on the closest rag. Dean pulled his wedding band out from his undershirt out of habit more than anything. He couldn’t wear it on his hands at work, but he didn’t want to lose it so Benny made him a braided leather necklace once they got back from their honeymoon.

    Dean ignored formality and walked straight into the waiting room. Once he saw the look on Benny’s face he knew what was happening.

    “It’s go time?” He asked, shock and exhilaration sparking his instinct to move.

    “It’s go time, cher. Lisa called me on the way to the hospital. Sam’s driving her from the office. Her water broke about 9:30,” Benny explained, the nervousness slipping into his cadence.

    “Alright, I’m gonna clean up, you want me to drive?” Dean asked, gauging the unsteadiness in his usually stalwart husband.

    “That’s probably best, yeah,” Benny agreed. 

Dean leaned in and kissed him firmly, resting his forehead against Benny’s temple before pulling away.“Hey, we got this, alright? That kid is gonna be so spoiled having you for a daddy, you know that?”

“Look who’s talking, gonna have you wrapped around their finger before they can even crawl,” Benny teased back, inhaling with contentment.

Dean headed back to warn his coworkers that he had a baby on the way and to clean up enough to be allowed into a hospital. Jo followed Dean out into the lobby. Quickly, she hugged Benny before demanding regular updates to the group chat.

“Alright, get out of here, we’ve got you covered for the rest of the week. Let me know and I will put in paternity leave as soon as everyone’s home, okay?” Jo got all professional about things as Dean left.

“Oh, right, shit. Well, I guess I’ll let you know when you can come over and---,” Dean started before Benny pulled him by his elbow.

“We should be goin’” Benny urged. Dean looked at Jo one last time and nodded.

This was it.

   Dean held Benny’s hand the whole way to the hospital, their grip tightening every so often, grounding them both. Because Lisa was a friend and the surrogacy was looser than most circumstances, both Benny and Dean were allowed in the delivery room. They were the best cheerleaders a birth mom could have ever asked for. Seven hours later, one chubby baby girl entered the world screaming to high heaven and splitting her fathers’ hearts open for an entirely new level of love and devotion.

    Mary Andrea Lafitte-Winchester, or Drea for short, was a happy and healthy little girl. And an overprotective big sister to her twin brothers, Samuel Joel and Robert Fergus, who came along four years later.

Sunset

    They’re old men now. Dean is five years retired, while Benny works the register for their sons on the weekends. Both of their hands aren’t what they used to be. But they keep busy. Drea is bringing the kids round tomorrow, it’s the start of summer break and Dean’s been dying to teach her kids to fish.  

    Dean went grey after he turned fifty, but it hasn’t changed since, in color at least. Benny’s beard is as white as Santa Claus and he hides what little hair he has left under a cap. They’re both a little rounder, a little lower to the ground, but they got that way together and neither of them notice it on one another anyhow.

       Every year they visit Jesse and Cesar in Arizona for New Year's. Though they fly more than make the drive these days.

        They still take turns cooking the meals and the movie nights from their early days resurfaced into movie afternoons when their kids moved out. Dean can’t hear for shit anymore and, naturally, Benny makes fun of him for it. But Dean’ll put in his hearing aids if company is over.

 It’s early evening in the beginning of June and the bugs are orchestrating quite the soundtrack to their time on the porch. Dean pours his whiskey. Benny’s already sipping his sweet tea, his medications don’t let him drink much anymore. Jo’ll come by on Sunday, along with SJ and his wife and Robbie. Sam and Jess usually make it to every other dinner or so.

    “Hey there, handsome. Mind if I join you?” Dean teases, once a flirt always a flirt.

    “Not at all, cher. It’s a helluva view,” Benny glances at his husband, watches Dean take in the peaches and pinks kissing the slopes of the fields. They sit like that for an hour, until the dark is too thick to see through. Groaning and creaking they stand in turn. Dean keeps his hand on the small of Benny’s back as they head inside for the night, steadying them both.

    They moved their bedroom to the ground floor after Dean’s heart attack, a lot less worry about making it upstairs that way. After being married forty years, Dean still makes jokes about it being Benny’s place. But it’s always been his home. He kisses Benny goodnight, makes it a little saucy because he can. He’s the first to close his eyes.

    In the morning Benny makes waffles and tofu bacon. Dean pretends he can’t taste the difference, fooling no one. They make out while the sink fills for the dishes, too few to run the machine. Benny gets handsy first and Dean tries to squirm into the upperhand. They’re interrupted by a car pulling in the drive.

    “Busted,” Benny whispers.

    “You’re the one who wanted kids,” Dean grumbles against Benny’s neck, an old, unfounded retort.

    “Yeah, but the grandkids---,” Benny starts.

    “Were made to be spoiled,” Dean finishes and kisses Benny once more. Drea’s yelling at her kids to slow down before her dads even make it outside to greet them. Her eyes, blue as her daddy’s are tired. They don’t envy her the school aged years. Dean bends down as baby Deanna, who’s nearly four, comes crashing into his arms. He pulls her up and holds her tight, reminds him of her mama and he can’t help but get a little weepy over the passing years. 

    “It’s so good to see you, baby girl.” Benny pulls his daughter into a hug before helping with their bags. The older kids don’t come inside until it’s time to eat, climbing through the barn and splashing in the creek until they’re soaked. But Deanna sticks with her Grandpa on a simple stroll, while Pappy and Mama catch up.

    Dean still has the jacket he bought from Benny, though the pants are long gone. He’ll leave it to Robbie when the time comes, when his son finds himself a stud that’s worth settling down for. If that’s what he chooses. 

    For now, Dean lets his granddaughter pick up every rock and stick she finds and examines it to the nth degree. He explains what he can about each one. She’s very curious. He even lets her wipe her chubby little hands on his pants’ leg when she needs to. They get back to the house just in time to start dinner, but before they go inside Dean takes a mental picture of his husband on the porch, their daughter beside him and his granddaughter running past him.

   It is a helluva view after all. 

Tell me what you think?

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Tagging: @flamencodiva​​​ @dolphincliffs​​​ @dontshootmespence​​​​ @fookinghelljensensthighs​​​​ @fangirlxwritesx67​​ @dawnie1988​​ @mrswhozeewhatsis​​​​ @cosicas-cuquis​​​​ @foxyjwls007​​ @tumbler-tidbits​​ @wingedcatninja​​​​ @defenderrosetyler​​​​ @ericaprice2008​  @crashdevlin​​​  @mylovelydame21 @cajunquandary​​ @itmighthavebeenintentional​ @thoughtslikeaminefield​ @there-must-be-a-lock​ @tatted-trina6 @lyarr24​

[funkymbtifiction]

Hello. My current understanding is that introverted functions can *appear* like extroverted functions, but that the motivations will always be different under the surface.

What do you think are the most common ways *introverted functions masquerades as their extroverted counterparts?

For example: I think Fi seeming Fe-like (keeping feelings to themself to sustain group harmony, choosing words they wouldn’t normally use to prevent upsetting people, extremely expressive facial expressions / body language, etc) in order to spread/express its internal values in a strategic way (Te) that appeals to people is common, but it’s more common the lower the Fi is in the stack because Fi-doms are less willing to change their approach to people only to fit their goal. Unless it is directly linked to their internal values, like being Fe-like as part of a “Be polite” moral code. But it could nag at all Fi users when using this tactic because they’d rather be true to themself than polite if the only reason people around want politeness is for the sake of status quo.

*I definitely am not demanding you to do all of them if that’s too much work, I’m mostly just hoping my logic tracks to an MBTI expert like you and that the analyzing would be fun o.o

I think it’s a good theory, but it might only apply to the judging functions, because they would be consciously aware of how they are coming across and trying to moderate those responses -- but even then, a Fi choosing to be peaceful and keep their mouth shut rather than disrupt social harmony (which happens a lot) is still going to have that ‘introverted’ sense of emotion going on and a factual-based Te approach which tends toward blunter tactics than a real Fe user. Real Fe users are generally skilled (if the function is high) at knowing how to appeal to different people using different tactics, but a Fi user can have trouble getting away from themselves to adapt in this way.

It’s kind of like... Peeta in the Hunger Games. I see him typed all over the place as ENFP which is flattering but doesn’t fit him at all. Peeta is extremely skilled at knowing what the audience wants and appealing to them -- on a Fe level. He has no real internal sense of ethics or sense of Self that prevents him from easily connecting to his interviewer and the audience, unlike the Fi using Katniss who is only passionate when she is truly engaged with something -- Peeta would ace the campaign that causes her so much trouble, because he could connect to the emotions of it without needing to be in an actual war zone, unlike Katniss. Her emotions are separate and conditional; his are connected and accessible.

A high Ti user can mirror Te in terms of “we need to get this project done. I need to finish this” productivity, but there’s always going to be the internal desire to make sure it is done right, according to their standards, and to have everything logically sound -- the “end result” (often looks like Te) is a need, but the internal inclination is to categorize, define, and comprehend. That’s why you can’t focus too much on outward behaviors; you just have to factor them into the greater whole of a person (or yourself) and ask about your motives for doing this and what your PREFERRED approach would be.

I suppose an SJ who is adventurous could superficially appear to be using Se, but they would still prefer detail-gathering and be somewhat cautious. All the Si types are more instinctively cautious than the Se types, simply because Si and Ne are not as grounded in the environment and therefore are more unsure of risk. (Si is subjective, which means separate from the sensory world and taking from it what appeals to it, and Ne is lofty and separate from the sensory world, in choosing an interpretation it likes best.) Ni could never look like Ne, because it’s desire to narrow down options to the best one is so strong, but Ne superficially could seem like Ni if they are working hard to narrow down possibilities. But the true function is always going to leak around the edges. :)

[writingwithadinosaur]

“Under the Knife” - Part 2

“Under the Knife” - Part 2

My Masterlist - Here

Story Masterlist - Here

My Tag List - Here

Hannibal Lecter x Reader, Will Graham x Sister!Reader

Word Count: 2,500-ish

Key: Chunks of text in italics are (Y/N)’s thoughts. Y/N = Your Name, H/C = Your Hair Color, E/C = Your Eye Color

Warnings: Talks of murders, talk of crime scenes, cursing

Summary: You are Will Graham’s sister who works with him at the FBI. When you get offered a job promotion, life starts to change. Some changes for the better; Some for the worst.

Tag List:

@fruitloopzzz @theeactress @melconnor2007 @ashenfallsof @geeksareunique @all-by-myself98 @sj-thefan​ @fuck-your-bad-vibes-dude​ @ntlmundy

Author’s Note: This is my first Hannibal piece and I am proud of it. There aren’t too many stories for Hannibal, so I figured I would add to the collection.

This does take place in some happy medium where they are all alive and work together. Sort of a happier season 1 era.

This is beta-read by @theeactress​, but please let me know if there is something that we missed or that we should look at again! 

If you would like to be tagged in any of my future pieces, check out my tag list above and let me know! And as always, feedback is greatly appreciated!

<3

- DreaSaurusREX

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

After your meeting with Jack, you filled out some paperwork and made it official: You were going to be his profiler for any case that he wanted to call you in for. And apparently he already had one building. 

“We have a suspected serial killer hitting close to home. Three killings in Montclair, Lorton, and Fredericksburg.” As he said the Virginian cities, Jack plopped 3 case files in front of you and moved to the board full of evidence that he had.

“Oh! We’re starting right now? O-Okay.” He turned from the board to look at you with a sort of incredulous way. 

“Do you have a problem with that?” 

“I mean, we literally just signed the papers. I thought I would have a night to prepare instead of being thrown right in.” You said the truth without seeming ungrateful or annoyed, which was good. But you instantly started to nervously ramble as Jack nodded and walked back to his desk. “But if we need to start right now, I can. I just wasn’t ready for--”

“You’re right. We’ll start talking tomorrow. For now, take those files, do your homework, and report here at 9AM. We’ll go to the lab and introduce you to Beverly, Price, and Zeller.” Jack smiled and motioned toward the door. 

“Thank you. I will see you tomorrow morning!” You tried to be professional but also show that you were actually excited to work with him. 

“See you tomorrow.”

After putting the files securely in your bag, you headed to your apartment. You put the files on your dining room table before you hung up your coat and work bag. You checked your watch. You had dinner plans with Hannibal in an hour and a half. You stood between your room and the table that the files were seated on. You fidgeted with your ring for a few seconds as you debated on whether or not to start catching up on the case now or after dinner. 

“I can read over the first one and then get ready for dinner.” You told yourself as you pulled out the semi-comfy chair and opened the file. 

Case: #566-A

This case was from 6 weeks ago in Montclair. Ballsy to be close to the FBI and kill people. There were two victims: Dr. Everet and his wife Whinnie. They were found dead in their shared bedroom in their upper-class house. A nice upper-class place thanks to being a doctor. 

Whinnie looked like a murder that you would find in an armed robbery case: Quick throat slit, not much thought or motive into it, left on the floor to bleed out. Dr. Everet on the other hand was what you assumed grabbed Jack’s attention.

Dr. Everet was in the middle of their bed. The autopsy report claimed that the cause of death was exsanguination which made sense considering he was in pieces. Everet was cut at every major joint. His arms were separated from his shoulders, his legs from the pelvis, his thigh from his knee, his forearm from the elbow, and so on and so forth down to his fingers and toes. The report showed that there was a high level of paralytics in his system. So you make him sit there while you cut him apart. That’s why there are no defensive wounds. He had to lay there and endure all of that...

Why was Everet presented like this while his wife was a simple throat slit?

You made some notes in your book, making sure to write out questions to ask the team when you met up with them tomorrow. With every note you made, you found yourself going back to the case file and trying to connect dots. You soon realized that you couldn’t begin to connect those dots until you looked at the other files. 

Without much thinking, you opened all three files, quickly skimming over each of them and writing out the main points that stood out. You were supposed to be at Hannibal’s at 7 o’clock and it was only 5:45. It didn’t take that long to get to his place.

All of the murders happened 2 weeks after the other, starting 5 and a half weeks ago. Dr. Everet was about 6 weeks ago, Dr. Chaseten was about 4 weeks ago, and Dr. Loriet was about 2 weeks ago. Which means this killer is bound to strike again soon if this time frame is important to him.

They all have at least one victim that is treated like a paralyzed piece of artwork like Dr.Everet and at least one victim thrown to the side and killed quickly. The ‘pieces of art’ were all doctors, the others were their husbands or wives.

They all were in different cities in Virginia but close enough to make a solid assumption that this is the same killer.

You were scribbling out a note to ask about if there were any particulates found in any of the bodies when your phone buzzed on the table next to you. You didn’t even look at the screen, you just hit the answer button and put whoever was calling on speakerphone.

“(Y/N) speaking.” 

“Good evening, (Y/N).” The thickly accented voice rang through your speaker and stopped your writing mid-word as you looked from your phone to the files that were now spread out across your small tablespace.

“Dr. Lecter! Hi! Good evening! Sorry, I was um...  caught up in something and didn’t even register who was calling!”

“No need to apologize. I was just wondering if I should still expect you tonight?” You dropped your pen as you frantically looked at the time on your phone. It was 6:15PM. You quickly started to shut the files and stand up muttering a few curse words as you did. “I take it you got distracted?

“Yes! I’m sorry! But I am still coming over as long as the invitation is still good.” You picked up your phone and walked to your room to start to quickly figure out a nice outfit that didn’t look too much like a work outfit or too fancy. “I am getting ready now!”

“As I can hear.” You could almost hear the slight smirk he most likely had on his lips from hearing you fumble around your small space. 

“I should be there right around 7 and I’ll explain myself, I promise.” 

“I will see you then, my dear.” Hannibal hung up while you were slinging your work shirt into your laundry bin. You couldn’t help the smile that spread as you thought about how he called you ‘my dear.’ You know it's probably nothing more than a common nickname for any woman in Hannibal’s life, but it still felt good to be called something other than your real name. 

~~~~~~~~

Somehow you had managed to avoid a lot of major traffic and pull up to Hannibal’s home right at 7 o’clock. He must have heard your engine or seen your headlights because as you got out of your car and made your way to his front door, it was already open with him waiting for you with a small smile on his lips. 

“Right on time.” 

“Did you doubt me?”

“Never.” Hannibal moved to the side to let you in. You were instantly hit with the scents of whatever he was whipping up in his kitchen. 

“One day you’ll have to teach me how to make something really fancy just so I can show off next time I have someone over.” You shrugged off your bag and went to hang it up in the closet, but Hannibal beat you to it.

“Someone like a partner?” He was so good at hiding any sort of inflection in his voice, but you could have sworn that you detected a bit of jealousy. You slightly laughed at the idea of having any sort of romantic partner right now.

“I was thinking more along the lines of my brother. You know I don’t have much of a social life outside work.

Hannibal motioned for you to walk towards the kitchen, you did so and he was right behind you. 

This was normal for the two of you. You tried to have a meal or at least coffee together once or twice a week to give both of you a break from whatever the world was dishing out to you that week. You had met as colleagues when you worked together on a project for the FBI. But now you both were in a comfortable friendship. There was a pang in your heart that wanted to explore the idea of being more than friends or coworkers with him, but you doubted Hannibal felt the same. If he did, he wouldn’t show it due to his connection with your brother and out of respect for you. So the two of you continued this dance of being extremely friendly but too scared to make a move or speak up.

You poured yourself a glass of water and leaned against the kitchen counter as Hannibal reached into the refrigerator for lemon juice and finished up cooking. 

“How was your day today?” You ask him, as you take a sip.

“It was alright. Met with patients, got further in a drawing, figured out what to cook for a beautiful lady as a congratulation of sorts.” Hannibal quickly looked up at you as he said the last half of that before turning to the stovetop. You felt a very small blush creep on your neck, but tried to play it cool. 

“Congratulations?”

“On your new position. I hope you don’t mind that Will shared that with me today.”

“Did he now?” You couldn’t help the slight negativity in your voice as you looked away and played with your ring. “He is definitely not as happy for me as you are. I’m sure you’re aware that he did not want me to accept Jack’s offer.”

“I cannot tell what he said, but I can tell you that he was rather upset when he came in today.”

“Sounds like my brother.” You took another drink of water, not even noticing that Hannibal had plated dinner until he spoke up.

“Now, if you’d please.” You quickly looked up and saw that he was gesturing to the dining room. You tried to help by grabbing a plate or his cup or something to bring to the table but he just gently ushered you into the next room. He never let you help out when you were over as a dinner guest, but you tried every time. 

The two of you sat and began eating. It was a good minute or two of silence before someone spoke up. 

“This is delicious, Hannibal! I don’t know what vegetable this is exactly,” you help up a swirly looking green piece on your fork, “but it is amazing with this sauce you’ve made.”

“That is romanesco broccoli. I thought you might like it. It looks intimidating but tastes like the typical broccoli that you normally eat. It's just a bit… Artistic.” He slightly smiled, happy that he could amuse you with new food. You took another bite as Hannibal reached for his wine. Before he took a sip, he asked something that had been on his mind.

“May I ask what grabbed your focus so much that you almost missed out on dinner tonight?”

“Oh, right! Jack apparently already has a killer he wants me to start profiling. He gave me copies of the reports to read up on before I have my first official day tomorrow. I told myself I was just going to read the first one, but then got carried away.”

“Is this the killer that has been targeting doctors?” You gave him a questioning look, unsure of how he knew about the case. “Jack asked for my opinion at the crime scene for Dr.Chaseten a few weeks ago. Considering they haven’t caught anyone, I’m assuming that is what he has you working on.”

“Then you would be correct. There are now three mutilated doctors that have no obvious correlation to each other other than the cause of death and the fact that they are doctors.” You sipped your drink and continued. “I know I’ve only been Jack’s official profiler for less than a day, but it's still biting at me that I don’t see anything yet.”

Hannibal reached over and put a hand on yours to try to rein you back in before you thought too much about the case.

“I’m sure you will have more answers tomorrow.” You smiled and patted his hand, ignoring the slight butterflies you got from the contact. You took a deep breath.

“I know. I shouldn’t get this deep yet. That insanity will hit me tomorrow when I have to brainstorm with Jack.” You smiled even though it didn’t fully reach your eyes. You knew Hannibal would pick up on it. 

“I think it was Oscar Levant that said that ‘there’s a fine line between genius and insanity. I have erased this line.’ Let’s just hope Jack Crawford won’t erase his line.” Hannibal gave your hand a small squeeze before removing his hand, causing you both to return your attention to your meal. 

“You know, we could have rescheduled this dinner if you felt the need to finish your work.” Hannibal was sincere. He understood your work was a major part of your life, but he did like to see you outside the halls of the FBI.

“No! I wanted to come by tonight! Honestly, I needed a mood lifter after today.”

“Oh? How come?” You finished chewing and then spoke your mind. You knew Hannibal was a therapist, but he wasn’t your therapist. So you tried to keep it friendly.

“I should be excited and happy to be starting this new position, but I’m more worried about Will. I don’t want this job to be what divides us, you know? We’re so close, and I am one of the few people that he can be comfortable around. I don’t want to take that from him.” You pause, unconsciously bouncing your leg and fidgeting with your ring slightly. You shook your head as if that would temporarily erase the thought. “I just hope that if I keep working cases, he will get more and more okay with it.” You cut off a piece of fish and ate, letting Hannibal know that you were done speaking.

“I’m sure he will be fine.” You look up to find him staring at you. More like watching you, hyper-aware of your movements that show your anxiety. “But enough about Will.” Hannibal held up his glass towards you. “Here’s to you and your new path in the FBI. May they see you as valuable and wonderful as I do.” 

You patted your lips with your napkin and smiled as you clinked your glass with his. Your heart swelled at his words. Why do you do this to me? 

The rest of the evening was spent finishing your meal and forcing Hannibal to let you help with the dishes. Afterward, he walked you to your car, as usual, opening the door for you like a true gentleman. 

Your drive home was peaceful and you found yourself smiling, thankful for your evening with Hannibal. It was nice to know that someone you cared about was happy for you.

[ill-be-istj-if-no-one-else-is]

(1/7) Hello! I'm trying to figure out my type. I've reached some conclusions, but don't completely trust my knowledge, so having a second opinion seems good. I'm not expecting enneagram typing because I'm still in my late teens and am not sure it would be clear due to semi-recent events. For complete transparency, I have sent in an ask before, but it was over a year ago and the answer was inconclusive.

(2/7) I don't always consider that others may be processing emotions and can get annoyed with them if they don't try to reason things out. I have been accused of being insensitive, which is probably true, though I try not to be because I dislike hurting others. I'm not good at relating to people or helping them through their emotions and I strongly dislike doing it, so I generally tell people that if they ask and, if possible, refer them to someone who is better at it and may help.

(3/7) I enjoy arguing about things that are totally irrelevant to day-to-day life (is water wet? is the standard example) because I like understanding the reasoning behind people's ideas, but I consciously try not to overstep bounds and will back off if I think they may be upset. I dislike certain arguments, because people start insulting the other person rather than actually understanding their position and countering it. If people do this or dogpile during a disagreement, I have a lot less respect for them. I will usually try to drop it if I dont think it's going anywhere.

(4/7) I'm not very consistent, even if I'd like to be. When I try to make a schedule or list to follow, it inevitably falls apart even if it shouldn't be hard to do. This is frustrating recently because I'm trying to keep up my grades because they matter to me, but it's difficult since I don't know where to start. I can care too much about some details. I usually spend too much time on an assignment after I've written it out, editing it so that it won't be misunderstood.

(5/7) I'm practical in some ways, but really not in others. If someone brings up something irrelevant to the topic at hand or I can recognize that an idea is unrealistic, I'll state that and try to refocus on the current situation. I cannot always recognize when something won't work, though, so I appreciate having someone there to point it out.

(6/7) I usually respect rules and will follow them if they make sense and I can understand why they exist. If I don't completely understand, I will usually assume I may not be privy to some information and reconsider unless I can actually find a fault in it.  I'm not super active, though I love taking hikes and just generally walking/jogging. I like trying new things, but I don't need it and I'd rather the new things be safe. I've had a near death experience (2 technically but ehhh) and I really don't want another.

(you sent an ask indicating one thing may have gone missing and I think it was the 7th part).

-----

Hi anon,

I am actually kind of thinking ISFJ from this, which I know may sound weird to some, but I can explain why. I’m still not positive; I know this is your second time asking but late teens + your indication that for some recent developments regarding enneagram are still a time of significant change and in general I think revisiting your type every so often isn’t a bad idea. If you can direct me to what you asked previously, even though it’s been some time and you’re still developing I may be able to try and put it all together to see if I can come up with a type.

- I’m setting aside the first part (2nd ask) about not necessarily relating to people well, because relating to people well is frequently considered to be a hallmark of Fe. It’s more complicated than that but I’d like to go through why I changed my mind from Ti-Fe to Fe-Ti as I read through this.

- the 3rd ask indicates Ti - wanting to debate things solely to understand someone’s reasoning - but it expresses a considerable respect for boundaries a lot of high Ti users would miss, at your age. You’re also at the point of tertiary function development where you’d have the tendency to be fairly aware of your Ti.

-The 4th ask is kind of hard, to be honest, in that SJs tend to be somewhat better at scheduling, and so this is a case where examples might be good just to see if it’s a case of really high standards. The rest, however, fits high Si/ISFJ an over-focus on details (high Si) or trying to ensure you are understood (ISFJ).

- practicality fits with being a sensor, and recognizing that you don’t always know enough information to be sure if something won’t work tracks with Si, as does the part in the next ask about rules; the lower Ti serves as the driver to have some understanding of where they come from.

- similarly, “active but not like, especially so/in chill ways” and wanting new things but in a safe way fit with high Si.

So: regarding the first item, the truth is high Fe users don’t automatically have extra magical insight into other people’s emotions. It’s something they’re often more motivated to learn, but on a certain level Fe is about how others respond to you and not necessarily vice versa. FJs can actually be really guilty of projecting an idea of how someone should be feeling, without actually having that understanding. I’ve found that when an FJ realizes this is the case (or that they just don’t necessarily know in the first place) it’s often an SFJ unless you’re dealing with a reasonably mature person (ENFJs with good Se actually often are pretty good at reading people, tbh).

More generally you don’t sound much like an ISTP or INTP in writing style or desires; you want routine but are working on developing it, for example, vs most IxTPs who don’t particularly want routine in the first place. But you definitely sound like you use Ti in some way.

[megalony]

Family ties- Part 10

This is the next part of my dad! Ben Hardy series which I hope everyone is enjoying so far. Feedback is always appreciated.

Taglist: @lunaticspoem @butlegendsneverdie @langdonzvoid @jennyggggrrr @rogermeddow @radiob-l-a-hblah @rogertaylorsbitontheside @chlobo6 @rogertaylors-lipgloss @sj-thefan @omgitsearly @luckytrashgooprebel @scarsout @deaky-with-a-c @killer-queen-ofrhye @bluutac @vousmemanqueez @jonesyaddiction @rogahs-drowse @milanosaurus @httpfandxms @saint-hardy @7-seas-of-fat-bottomed-girls

Summary: Ben and (Y/n) were single parents but they are trying to raise their kids together as one big family. Now they’re finally having a baby of their own, but that proves hard when there’s a problem with their baby.

Series masterlist

Enjoy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Are you ready to see your mum?" Ben leaned his frame against the living room door, his eyes set on his three kids whose heads all snapped round to see him. Each of them surprised that he was here since they didn't hear him enter the house.

None of the kids had seen Ben for just over two days now since he had had to rush off to the hospital. His mum had graciously agreed to look after the kids until Ben could come back home since he desperately wanted and needed to be at the hospital with (Y/n). He hadn't been able to come home because he was waiting for news on Billy and then he and (Y/n) had gone down to see him. Ben had hung around until this morning just to make sure (Y/n) and Billy were both okay before he ventured home to grab them both some stuff and get the kids to take them to see her and Billy.

Ben knew it was still very early days yet, Billy was only just over a day old and was recovering from surgery but he had surpassed the doctor's expectations by even making it through the thirteen-hour operation. Ben wanted to stay at the hospital but he also wanted to see the kids so he thought he could take them to see Billy and be with (Y/n) for a few hours.

"Daddy!" Ellie squealed, bounding off the sofa so she could tackle Ben and wrap herself around him like a vine. Gently nudging her back a little, Ben bent down on his knees so he was level with her which allowed him to wrap her up in his arms.

He smiled when he felt Cody wrapping his arms around Ben's neck, laying himself on his dad's shoulder as Hugo hurried over and hugged Ben's other side.

"The baby's okay then?" Hugo whispered when Ben leaned back so he could look at them all, his eyes diverting to look at his eldest who had a glimmer of worry in his eyes. Hugo was a bit older than the other two, he understood that both his parents had been worried that the new baby wouldn't be okay whereas they had led Cody and Ellie to believe that even though the baby was sick, he would be fine. It had been a risky decision for the couple but it was easier in the long run rather than to have Cody and Ellie afraid something was going to happen.

"He's okay."

"Did they make baby's heart better?" Ellie asked, tilting her head up to look at Ben with her big blue eyes that made him melt every time.

"Yeah, princess, they made his heart better. But he's still not very well so he has to be looked after by the doctors. Your mum's missed you all, shall we go see her?" In the blink of an eye, Ben watched as all three kids disappeared behind him to go and grab their coats and get their shoes on so they could go as quick as humanly possible. None of them had liked not seeing either of their parents for two days, especially when they knew something was going on with their new baby brother. They weren't passing up the chance to go and see (Y/n).

Pushing himself to his feet, Ben smiled at his mother who walked through into the living room when she heard the commotion. Ben stuffed his hands into the back pockets of his jeans as he leaned his weight on his left leg, his eyes softening at his mother's calm but worried expression.

"How are they both?" His mother leaned her head to the side as she folded her arms over her chest. Ben didn't have to sugar coat anything when talking to his mother, he didn't have to put on a brave face and act like he was coping if he wasn't. If the operation had gone wrong Ben wouldn't have been able to pretend he was coping at all and his mother would have known it, but even though it had gone well, Ben didn't think he was coping amazingly well.

He felt as if he was simply waiting for something to go wrong and he couldn't shake that feeling no matter what he did. Whenever Billy's heartbeat fluctuated and went too high or too low, Ben thought 'this is it, I'll lose him' and he couldn't stop himself from panicking and going into overdrive. Whenever a nurse came to check on Billy he assumed something was wrong and Ben just knew something was bound to happen.

"(Y/n)'s doing good, she's actually sleeping now. And Billy... he's stable, we get to hold him in a week or so." A small smile pulled at Ben's lips at the thought of being able to hold his fourth child. With both the boys Ben had instantly been able to hold them so to have to refrain from trying to take Billy out of the incubator made Ben feel odd. It was like there was an itch deep inside his chest that was only going to go away when he held his boy in his arms.

Billy was still dosed on a lot of medication and the anaesthetic wasn't worn out of his system yet so he wasn't moving and he wasn't awake yet. But when they got his medications under control and his heartbeat was stable, then the parents could hold him.

"That's good news, tell (Y/n) I'll be in tomorrow to see her."

Ben nodded but as much as he felt his lips curving into a smile, he could feel the tears welling in the corners of his eyes. He snapped his eyes closed when his mum wrapped her arms around him, pulling him into a hug that simply made him want to cry.

"Hey, he's going to be okay. He's gotten this far, you've just got to wait it out now." With a nod, Ben kissed her cheek before he pulled away and headed into the hallway to sort out the kids.

Ben rubbed at his eyes to make sure any stray tears were gone so that the kids didn't think something was wrong before he bent down on his knees in front of Ellie who was sat on the stairs. He took her shoes from her hands and helped slip them onto her feet, seeing she had her ruby red coat on already and the boys were rearing to go.

"Right, are we all ready?"

It didn't take too long to get to the hospital which Ben was rather thankful for. As much as he was happy that all the kids were enthusiastic, their questions about Billy got a little too much for Ben because he didn't have any of the answers. He couldn't tell them when Billy would be able to come home, when (Y/n) was coming home, if Billy was going to need special care or if he was still going to be poorly when he came home. He couldn't tell them anything about Billy's condition and that hurt because Ben had the same questions and he wanted the same answers they did.

Ben settled Ellie on his hip and held Cody's hand as they all entered the hospital. He guided the four of them down the corridor to get to (Y/n)'s room although both Cody and Hugo ran ahead when Ben told them which room was (Y/n)'s.

Ellie leaned her head on Ben's shoulder, smiling when he bounced her on his hip as he followed the boys into (Y/n)'s room.

"Surprise, mummy." Ellie kept her head resting on Ben's shoulder but she waved her hand out at (Y/n) as she giggled, knowing Ben hadn't told (Y/n) he was bringing the kids in to see her. He thought a small surprise might make her smile.

"Hey baby, come here." (Y/n) waved her arms out to Ellie when the boys ran over to her and burrowed into her arms on either side of the bed. She kissed the top of their heads as she hugged them both tightly to her chest, feeling like she was going to cry. It had been a few days now since she had seen the kids and that was before she'd had Billy. She missed them all, she wanted to be back home with them and to take Billy home with them too. But at least whilst she was here she could go and see Billy whenever she felt like it since he was only down the corridor.

"Princess, don't lean on mummy's tummy." Ben warned when he sat down on the side of the bed, letting Ellie crawl from his lap over to sit next to (Y/n).

Ellie glanced at (Y/n)'s stomach, clearly trying to avoid touching her before she wrapped her short arms around (Y/n)'s neck and tucked herself into (Y/n)'s arms. Cody scrambled up onto the bed too as Hugo sat down on the chair in front of Ben.

"Y-your tummy d-deflated." Cody stated quietly, tilting his head to one side as he looked at (Y/n)'s stomach. His words caused both parents to smile and caused Ellie to blink in realisation as she also turned her attention to stare at (Y/n)'s stomach. Her stomach was still round and she had a bump but she looked like she was four or five months gone.

"Yeah, the baby's not there anymore honey, my stomach's going back to normal now." (Y/n) rubbed her hand over her stomach, being mindful of the stitches that littered horizontally across her stomach just below her belly button. She couldn't stretch or twist around too much in case she pulled the stitches but due to the meds she had taken, (Y/n) could hardly feel any pain or discomfort yet which was a good side to this.

"Where is baby?" Ellie looked around the room without pushing herself up since she was laid down against (Y/n). The little girl looked confused when she couldn't find the baby in the room with them.

"He's in another room being looked after by the doctors, sweetheart." (Y/n) responded, leaning her head on top of Ellie's as the little girl hummed in response.

"C-can w...we see him?" Cody turned his head to look at Ben, a hopeful glimmer in his eyes as he suddenly wondered what his baby brother looked like and whereabouts he was in the hospital. But his face fell at the expression on Ben's face that he had seen too many times before. Ben was happy that Cody wanted to see Billy but at the same time, he didn't think it would be the best idea.

Cody and Ellie were still young and seeing Billy laid motionless might confuse and upset them. He had a tube up his nose for breathing, stickers and needles connected to his skin and his chest which also had stitches running down his very small chest. The sight wouldn't be something Ben really wanted his two younger kids to see in case it upset them since the sight made Ben want to cry at the best of times.

"I don't think that's a good idea, buddy. Billy isn't very well, you wouldn't be able to hold or touch him and he's sleeping at the minute."

"Can I see him dad?" Hugo looked over at Ben, a pleading look in his eyes as he hoped Ben would agree. He was older then the others, he would be able to see Billy and not be scared or confused and he wanted to go and see him. Hugo hadn't initially been pleased about the prospect of another sibling but he knew both his parents were so thrilled at the thought of a baby together and Billy was his brother, he wanted to go and see him since he was ill.

"Are you sure you want to?" Ben sighed through the words, knowing that if Hugo really wanted to then he was old enough and mature enough to go and visit Billy even if it was only for a minute. "Alright, come on I'll take you now and then we'll come back here."

Ben stood up and motioned for Hugo to get up as well, he would take him down now and then could come back here and take all three kids back home soon when they were ready. Leaning over, Ben pressed a kiss to (Y/n)'s forehead before he rested his hand on Hugo's back and guided his eldest out of the room.

"So... what's actually wrong with him?" Hugo tilted his head up to look at Ben when they were safely out of the room. He didn't want to ask when his siblings were around because he knew they were the reason that Ben and (Y/n) were so vague with saying what was wrong and he didn't want to upset (Y/n) either by asking. Hugo knotted his hands together in front of him as his curiosity made him wonder what was wrong but Ben's reluctance to talk made him wonder if he really wanted to know or not.

"You know where your heart is?" Ben tilted his head down to look at Hugo as they walked down the corridor slowly. Hugo nodded in response, unsure where Ben was going with this. "Well... Billy's heart was on the outside, not the inside."

How was Ben meant to explain it to an eight-year-old?

"What, on top of his chest, like, his ribs? And it still works?" Hugo looked down at his own chest as he wondered how it was possible that Billy's heart could work when it wasn't in the right place.

"Yeah, his heart's fine, it's just not where it should be. But he had an operation and it's put back in his chest now, we just need to wait for him to recover and get better." Ben directed the pair of them around the corner and down an adjoining corridor before slowly coming to a stop outside of the room Billy was in. He was in a smaller room with only three other newborns which Ben preferred because it meant there weren't going to be hoards of parents in there all at once hovering around their newborns.

Ben noticed Hugo looked a little reluctant as they walked into the room, he pressed his frame into Ben's side as he looked around the room before his eyes landed on the incubator that Ben was pointing to. The pair headed over to the incubator that Ben had been glued to over this past day since Billy had been moved in here.

A calming smile took over Ben's lips when he looked down at Billy who still hadn't moved yet showing he was still unconscious. Ben knew it was preferable to have Billy asleep right now so he could recover rather than having him awake but dosed up on painkillers and God knows what else which would make him sleepy anyway. But a part of Ben still yearned for Billy to wake up so he could see him move and be reassured that he actually was okay.

Tilting his head down, Ben looked over at his eldest whose eyes looked a mix between sad and fearful as he stared at his youngest sibling. Somehow, Billy didn't look real. With a sheet of glass separating him from Hugo, he looked more like a damaged doll than a real baby. He had small wrinkles around his closed eyes and his button nose, he had puffy blotched red cheeks and he wasn't moving a muscle. But what caught Hugo's attention was the stitches on Billy's chest.

There was a straight line going from Billy's collar bone down to his torso which didn't look too extensive but that was because Billy was only small in size. His skin was a very vibrant shade of red like he had been scratching away at his skin and there were bruises beginning to form around the navy blue butterfly stitches keeping his skin pulled tightly together. But on the right side of Billy's chest, there was a small, uneven circular mark which was clearly where his heart had been before it was put back in place.

Without saying anything and without being prompted by Ben, Hugo reached out towards the incubator and slowly slipped his hand through the circular opening that was there so they could have some small form of contact with Billy.

Ben watched with watering eyes as Hugo took Billy's small fist in his hand and started to brush his thumb over his brother's tiny hand.

"I hope he gets better soon."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Something's wrong." Ben mumbled the words quietly as he leaned his head closer, his eyes narrowing like the lens of a camera zooming in on his baby boy. (Y/n)'s left hand continued to gently brush over the thin tufts of hair on Billy's head through the small opening in the incubator but she leaned her head closer to the incubator to try and get a better look at Billy when Ben's words concerned her.

She felt Ben's chest pressing against her back as he leaned over her shoulder to try and catch a better look at Billy but (Y/n) wasn't sure what he was looking for. Billy was bound to have good and bad days, it had only been three days since his operation, he was four days old with a heart condition. He wasn't going to be moving about very much now even though he was awake, his medication made him drowsy.

"He's got a rash." Ben pointed with his free hand to Billy's right arm and when (Y/n) looked closer, she noticed that his boy did indeed have small red dots glimmering against his pale skin that was blotching red around the rash.

She was about to say that it was simply a reaction to his heart because his blood vessels had been moved, some blood was bound to rise to the surface of his skin. But she stopped herself from speaking when something else had clearly caught Ben's eye. He pulled away from (Y/n) so he could stand closer to the incubator, almost pressing his face against the glass as he stared down at Billy who looked like he was now asleep from the medication.

Unsure what Ben was searching for, (Y/n) retracted her hand from the incubator and the moment she did, Ben reached his own hand inside and slowly skimmed his fingertips over Billy's face and down to his chest.

"Ben, what's wrong?"

"His lips are blue, he's not getting enough oxygen." Ben's words were quiet but they were full of confusion because Billy had a tube taped to his nose that let oxygen into his lungs in case he wasn't capable of taking proper breaths yet. He should be getting a filtered amount of oxygen that would be enough for him, his lips or any of his skin shouldn't be turning blue because he shouldn't be lacking in oxygen.

Biting down on her lip, (Y/n) reached over and pressed the emergency button for a nurse to come over because she didn't want to take any chances when it came to Billy's health. If there was even the slightest thing wrong they needed it sorting out because they couldn't afford anything to be wrong when Billy wasn't well right now. The smallest thing could affect him badly and turn the tables when right now, everything was okay.

(Y/n) rested her hand on Ben's arm, her frightened eyes watching as Ben's expression changed. She knew every facial expression Ben made and she knew what emotions they connected to and how he was feeling and right now, he was trying so hard not to panic because he was concerned. He was deeply concerned and he looked very agitated. His features were hardening like they were set in stone, his brows were furrowed but his hand was skimming ever so gently up and down Billy's chest.

"His heartbeat isn't fluctuating... it's low because there's something wrong." Ben whispered the words but they were enough to make (Y/n)'s head spin like she was going to faint.

They were told Billy's heartbeat would go up and down because his body was still getting used to the adjustments that had been made to his chest and it was having to heal torn tissues and stitches and changes. Neither of them had thought anything of his heartbeat being rather low when they came in today, but Ben wasn't so sure it was nothing anymore. If he wasn't getting enough oxygen, there was a big chance that his heartbeat was low because there was something wrong, not just because of some pattern.

So what was wrong with him?

[crowkingwrites]

Smarter Than You

Pairing: Ramsay Bolton x Reader // Words: 1587 // Ao3 Link

You heard him come in last night. He thudded around and hit the wall once. You also heard him moan in pain. You knew it was pain too. He hadn’t had a girlfriend in years. No woman could stand him for longer than five minutes.

Except you.

You lived among other college students in a mishmash house where the rent was spilt evenly among everyone. Your best friend, Jeyne Poole, called it the ‘Snow Lodge’ because everyone who lived there was from the North. You had seven other roommates including Jeyne, but the one you were interested in the most was the one who seemed to be there the least.

Ramsay Bolton was a bastard in every sense of the term. He was rude to most people except whenever it benefitted him to be nice. His father and his mother never married. Mostly, he was one to show up to a party already drunk with a zippo lighter in hand.

While your roommates brushed him off, you couldn’t help but notice things about him. How he always paid rent on time and always had money despite him only having one part-time job. No one knew what his major was because no one shared classes with him. He always came in in the wee hours of the morning, moaning in pain.

He was hiding something.

This was the 3rd time this week he stumbled in at 4am. You kept count. Your shared bedroom was closest to the front door. You heard everyone stumble in.

“What are you doing?” you said to yourself. You had hints here and there. Christmas came and went, and Ramsay stayed here. Either he wasn’t welcome home for the holidays or he chose not to go. He had a terrible relationship with his family. Mother? No. Father who was a corporate man with high expectations? Yes.

He owned an absurd amount of violent video games. You weren’t sure if he was good at any of them, but it didn’t feed the anger inside of him. Your favorite tic about him was how he spoke to you.

“Excuse me.”

“Did you need this?”

“No. I don’t remember.”

Mundane sentences, but all of said in a soft voice. He never yelled at you. Never cursed at you or shown you aggression in any way. Why? Why of all people in the Snow Lodge? Why be soft to you?

It kept your mind racing during class all day. Your eyes looked at your phone. 3:30pm. Ramsay usually leaves for his job an hour from now. If you rushed home, you could get a small window of him. When you rushed home, you found him leaving early. He closed the backyard gate and walked down the alley.

Shit.

Wait.

You had an idea. It was a stupid idea. You started to follow him to work. You were a quiet thing. You rarely or made much fuss, you could wing this one thing. Ramsay walked into downtown where noise took over. Your cover was as good as yours. If you kept a certain distance behind him, he won’t notice you.

At least that’s what you thought.

You followed Ramsay onto Lucky 6 Street. Six bars were all next to each other on one convenient side. As far as you knew, Ramsay worked as a bartender in one of them. He swerved into an alleyway and you quickly sped up your pace. When you turned into the same alleyway, a pair of hands caught you and placed you against the wall.

“The fuck do you think you’re doing?” Ramsay asked you. You let out short breaths in his face. Ramsay snapped his fingers in your face. “Hello? Y/N. What are you doing?”

“I followed you.”

“I know. I can see that.”

“You knew?”

“Next time you’re following someone, maybe don’t wear you yellow sweater with our school logo on it,” Ramsay pointed to your sweater. “Wear darker colors so I won’t see you next time. I’ve been more than fair. What the fuck are you doing?”

You bit your lip. Your itching, psych major, troll brain open your mouth for you.

“You’re weird. More weird than usual. No one sees you in classes anymore. You don’t leave the house on vacations which makes me think your dad has stopped paying for you to go to school and you’re left on your own. Is that why you’re so angry? No. That’s not it. You haven’t been fired from your job. It takes a pretty level-headed person to be a bartender. You’re taking your anger out in other ways. But how? You come home every other night in pain. You owe someone. No, this is deeper. Something you’re invested in. You’re part of a gang. In exchange for your position, they’re helping you stay afloat.”

Ramsay started laughing. His chuckle echoed between the brick walls of the old, prohibition-aged buildings. It sounded genuine as if he hadn’t had a good laughter in months. His chest rose and fell quickly. Your heart skipped.

Ramsay’s laughter faded as his arm rested above you, making you feel smaller and smaller as his physical being took up your personal space.

“You’re smart. I’ll give you that,” Ramsay started. “You’re from a quiet, northern town where everyone’s business is your business. I know that because your nose is everywhere in our house. You listen to who’s hooking up with who, who came home last night, who didn’t. You’re a gossip because your own life is boring, right? Two married parents in the suburbs wasn’t exciting enough. So, you followed me, the grumpiest, meanest person you could find, and for what? So you can prove to yourself that you’re capable of danger?”

Ramsay tucked a wisp of hair behind your ear.

“You have no clue. Go home, sweetheart,” Ramsay backed away, but you grabbed his arm first. He winced and glared.

“No,” you told him. “I don’t need your permission to be here. I can handle myself.”

“I told you. You don’t know what you’re getting into.”

“And I’m telling you I’m smarter than you think.”

Ramsay laughed again. “You think you’re smarter than me?”

“I know I’m smarter than you,” you smiled. You had better grades than he did. You studied harder. You were on a faster track to graduate earlier than most. Ramsay put one hand on each side of your head. You couldn’t escape him easily this time around. His attention zeroed in on you.

“If you really think you’re smarter than me, prove it.”

You heard the wind whip through downtown and it lifted your hair. The silence became louder than the noise of the city. It was almost too much to bear. Ramsay’s face closed in on yours. His neutral face and continued silence made your skin itch with something malicious. You heard his sneakers move closer to your being.

His index finger traced your jaw and stopped at your chin. He tilted it towards him. The whites of his eyes became too much. You found yourself losing all sense of self in his blue pupils. Swimming in a sea where monsters hid just below the surface. Still, you would tell people that it was you. You kissed him first. You grabbed him down there first. Ramsay didn’t hypnotize or persuade you. You chose him.

His hands slipped under your shirt and pulled at your wait, bringing you just behind a dumpster in the alley. Your mouth got your fill of his own. He filled your mouth with his tongue over and over again, hoping to dig deeper into you. His hand fondled your chest. He knead it in circular motions.

Your hand went in his pants.

“Oh, eager girl,” Ramsay said. “How long have you wanted me, huh? Months?”

With his member in your hand, you pleasured him. You could see his exposed skin and the veins popping out on his member. He was getting hard fast.

“How long have you wanted me?” you asked.

“Mmm, cheeky. Careful now, I wouldn’t be so cocky.” Ramsay stopped you and turned you around. He dragged down your pants and lined himself up with you. “I knew you hid your pretty little ass with all of those baggy clothes of yours. C’mere.”

Ramsay penetrated you and it felt rough. You weren’t wet all the way, but it didn’t matter. He was already inside of you. His hands kept a good grip as he fucked you from behind. He grabbed onto your sweater after a few moments, and you understood why. The collar pulled at your neck when he pulled, choking you.

Your breath grew shorter and shorter as his dick grew harder and harder inside. He filled you with it. Ramsay pulled your hair up. Leaving you in an awkward position in front of the dumpster. You heard the people crossing the alleyway, but no one came closer.

“Do you want them to see you like this? Is that the kind of danger you want, huh?” Ramsay smiled in your ear. He kept fucking you until you felt him pull out suddenly. His seed split on the wet, dirty ground. You started to fix yourself up until Ramsay brought you close to him.

“Fight club,” he said. “I’m not part of a gang or a mob. I fight in an illegal fight club. They pay me a lot to beat the shit out of anyone they put in front of me.”

“Oh,” you reacted. “So—

“Careful,” Ramsay interrupted. “I like you. Don’t push me further.”

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[murmeringox]

Making it Divine

Gender dysphoria. Body dysmorphia. These are terms thrown around in the trans community, on the internet, by friends. But what is it? Gender dysphoria is defined by Wikipedia, bastion of common knowledge, as “the distress a person feels due to a mismatch between their gender identity and their sex assigned at birth.” But what does this look like? What does it feel like? Who is gender dysphoria, and how do I know if we’ve met?

Conceivably, gender is the interaction between the human soul, the essence of a person, and their physical body, the body with which they can move about and interact with the world. You may not believe that the soul exists apart from the body, though I do. Perhaps then, this definition will not fit you, your experience. I think that’s fine. I can only speak from what I know, how I walk through the world. The soul, then, would in some sense be genderless. How can the essence of a person have a gender? Every society creates their own gender roles, their own performance of humanity to which people can subscribe or not, and every society is so wondrously different. If we all come from the same source, then who we are must grow from that interaction between the essence of our humanity, that spark of commonality, and the body and space in which we grow up.

That body, then, though it can be betrayal, is still intimately important. Even if we ultimately must modify it for it to be the home to house our personhood, that gap between who we are and what is ascribed to us, perhaps that is gender dysphoria.

I remember, before my body changed and left my personhood behind, or perhaps a better way of thinking about it is, in the time before my body got out ahead of me, when I was a child, no one could tell my gender. Most, upon seeing me, thought I was a boy. I knew this was wrong, and was vehement in my rejection of it, to the point that at 7 my parents got me a shirt that said, “yes I’m a girl, and yes I could kick your butt.” I loved that shirt. It spoke of my strength, and it used a bad word. Although I also remember some secret part of me falling at “girl.” I remember fighting boys in pre-K to prove that I could, that I wasn’t weak. I remember when I suddenly…had breasts. I don’t remember when they grew, although I do remember being taught to hate my body. A teacher calling me smelly, annoying, bad. A body that was changing, becoming abysmal, at the same time I was beginning to doubt myself on a fundamental level, to doubt my knowledge of who I was because my body was disagreeing with me so loudly.

And the only coping mechanism I knew of was eating. Eat my way to happiness, coasting high on the serotonin of processed sugar stuffed into my mouth when no one was looking. Climbing a chair to secretly eat years-old candy canes no one remembered, because it was the only thing in the house. I needed it. To feel good. To feel anything but hate. And as my chest grew, I grew too, hiding a womanhood I never wanted, never should have had, seeking control over my body the only way I knew how. And then later, many years later, when I was fearful and in a different place, far from home, doing the opposite. Starving myself, seeking control in the only way I ever could over this body: through food.

But I still wasn’t aware of the gap. Couldn’t see it. Didn’t realize it was there. Not in my first year of high school, when I changed my name to SJ. To be cooler. (to have a less gendered name.) Not in my last year of high school, when I got a breast reduction. Because of my back pain. (to have smaller breasts, to hide them.) Not when I came out to myself as nonbinary my second year of college, but didn’t really tell anyone and didn’t change my pronouns. (it’s easier this way - no one really has to know.) Not when I came out to my family. (well, nothing really has to change.) Not when I wanted to start using they/them pronouns. (well, a little change). Not when I held my chest in everyday to see what I would look like without breasts at all. (but I don’t need a binder – that’s too far.) Until one day, it wasn’t. And I knew I needed surgery, I needed to regain control of this body that had grown and held me lovingly, but ultimately was not enough to hold my humanity, my essence. Or rather to be the right reflection of who I am, to be the person I see walking through the world, though it was already perfect.

I didn’t know. I didn’t have the words for the hatred I felt, for why I hid my chest. Fpr the gap between who I am and the form I have now. Why I feel uncomfortable giving hugs, feeling my breasts pressed against me. Or wearing swimsuits. Or feeling my chest move when I run. Or jump. Or do anything goofy. Why I don’t want to participate in sports, though I love them, because my body feels weak, with a moving chest that I am always absurdly aware of, that holds me back without my even knowing why or how. For the way I sit hunched over, hiding them. For the clothes I pick, and what I feel confident in. For my favorite part of my chest being the flat place between my breasts, where I can feel my ribs, where I can pretend it is flat all the way across. For the way I hate my lovers touching my breasts, and the way I pretend I don’t because I think I should.

I didn’t know that this IS the gap, made manifest in my bones and in my flesh. Not in my mind or in my soul, those pieces of me that know who I am without words, knowing beyond understanding, past my own mind, into my deepest part. No, this gap between who I am and the body that holds me is in that body itself. That beautiful body, which does so much. So much more than it means to, I think. A programming that no mind strength can overcome, a natural process, that perhaps, if gender is a society writing on a body, would not bother me in another place and time. That perhaps didn’t bother me in another place and time. But which does bother me. Every time I move, see myself, silence myself when I want to be loud, still myself when I want to run and bounce the gap is made manifest. That gap between my self and my body, which sits boldly on my chest.

I am not a man. And frankly, I have no interest in it, though men are wonderful creatures. But neither am I a woman, despite what a stranger looking at me might think. Even as a child, I knew that word was not the right fit for me. My father, who saw my self-hatred and mistook its roots, would always try to gender me, push me lovingly into the safe boxes society had built for him, worried that I was flailing because I was weird, but perhaps could be fixed with his understandings. “You’re turning into a beautiful, young woman.” “You’re almost a young woman.” “What a brilliant, young woman you are.” I remember resisting, saying I am not a young woman. I don’t want to be a young woman. He would smile, or frown, or get angry. He thought he understood. He did not. “But you are.” Beyond my control, a body assigned to me and a gender that came with it, and who I was didn’t matter beyond the form I had.

He was wrong. He didn’t mean to be cruel, confirming something about myself by which I was trapped, that I hated and because I didn’t know why I hated, turned that hatred inward. He would never try to hurt me, I know that. My body remembers though, that he did.

My mother, for her part, viewed this choice, to reject my breasts, as to reject motherhood. “So, you won’t be a mother,” she said when I told her. She doesn’t remember this now, claims that I “heard her say that” because that’s “what I thought she meant.”Because though she said it, it’s not what she meant. But she said it. I remember. My bones do too. I do not reject parenthood, motherhood, fatherhood. I want to raise children. Or perhaps not, if the world ends, but either way these ruined breasts of mine would not give up milk. And they are mine, not my children’s. She would never try to hurt me, I know that.

My sister views it as…perplexing. Confusing. Beyond comprehension. She cannot fathom a life without breasts. But she is, of course, a woman.

As for my brother, I do not know what he thinks.

For me, this is crossing that gap, building a bridge across my personhood, is a movement towards myself, a hand extended to me. If my body is a house it is haunted by the ghost of a young girl and the ghost of a young boy. And the girl is loud, and must constantly come out to greet the guests, and be beat by the world for being so obnoxious. She doesn’t want to be the first one out the door. The young man, he is quiet. He wants to step forward, but no one ever sees him. He is golden, and silent. This is my way of opening the door to him as well, inviting him out into the light, to dance, and be merry with those who visit the house.

To be comfortable, and see my essence reflected in my body, reflected by my world. So that when I am called she, my body does not against my will confirm a title I did not earn and did not want. So that my bones will know, as my heart and mind do, of who I am and who I always was. So that together this skin and flesh of mine can rewrite stories and memories, bring that boyish light out of my childhood and into my present, for that little tomboy, a type of neither boy nor girl, can come back out and play. And play in boy’s clothes and girl’s clothes, my clothes, without confirming anything about me but that I occupy space between. A sacred space. For what is beyond humanity, what is the sacred, but beings beyond gender, a creature that being neither man nor woman, and understanding neither of what one is, is able to be themselves completely and wonderfully? And those beings too, upon seeing the tools which they were given, recognizing that this gift was given in error, and in occupying their place as men and women, refine that space, redesign it, make it more and greater, make it sacred. Those who intimately understand gender, in a way I cannot and never have, and become their highest selves, in beauty. What are trans people, but a taking of this construct called gender and making it divine?

[jindoelf]

191106 LYSN chat -Hyuk

Hyukjae's chatting event thread- random & INCOMPLETE:

At first, he was like How to read all these (chat msgs from fans) cos it was really fast going. Then he said he wanted to greet first and then How do we do this, my eyes hurt, why do you guys have so much to say. Then ok first-

-of all, I'm at home. Then he said he ate ramen w/ chungyang pepper, scallion & egg. Then he said the msgs were coming in crazily so we looked crazy😂 He said he couldnt read anything other than ㅋㅋㅋ then when he asked if we were curious about anything, we were like Your face -

-then he said Selca? I havent washed my face yet. Wait. How to upload? Then he uploaded one while he was doing a v sign. Then he was like See i'm not an idiot. He said he only wears pajamas when sleeping so by the time he wakes up, he changes to something else already.

He said he didnt have work today & he woke up aroud 12nn then was just lying down for 1hr then he did the laundry. He said he's good at doing laundry and washing dishes and if we get married to him then he'll do the housechores and we just need to stay beside him😘 then he said he -

to do the dishes topless but when he started living alone, his noona gifted him an apron. Then I think some fans msged like he should do topless then Hyuk was like Why would I do that now 변 태 야 //😂 He said he needed to type the word with spaces cos it was banned in the app-

-then "If that word is banned then arent you all prohibited to enter here from the start" 😂😂 then he asked if there were minors in the chat. He asked us our age and someone answered 3y/o. So he said There are kids here so we should only say nice words. Then later on he said he-

-would have liked to read all our msgs, "Why do I only have 2 eyes"😂 Then after some time, the talk was about travels. He said that he walks a lot when traveling. He liked planning his travels but he also liked those free style ones like hop on any bus, etc. But he said that we-

--cant do the free style one cos we will get lost unlike him whos a high level traveler😂 Then he said Paris is his top fave then Kyoto Japan then Santorini Greece. He said that Greece is a rly beautiful place and the food are delicious too. Then hed like to go to back to Croatia-

********

Hyukjae has gone missing for a while ..

Around 4:15pm kst, Hyuk told us that he'd upload a tennisgong selca then he has gone missing after that. After a while, Manager started chatting us that Hyuk got connectivity issues(maybe after going out of-

-the app to find a selca) Then Manager said that Hyuk was rly giving in effort to get back into the chat. He kept on trying & u know, twas already 4:15- he was supposed to be done at 4pm anyway. It wud hav been ok if he didnt come back cos of the issue but he still did & stayed😭

Chat messages from 3:40pm~

(Incomplete and random again)

He asked us if he should really be ending the chat at 4pm. And if he should ask (them) if we could extend. Then "I have a (salon) treatment appointment at 5pm, then pilates at 6pm. I can still do the chat --

-while getting treatment but I have to do pilates. Everyone, dont you have work?"

Some fans answered theyre on leave/half day off so he was like "because of this??? Dont lie kekeke."

"Who said (she) resigned kekeke"

"Ok so what should we talk about now. What are you curious of?"-

-So different answers were coming in crazily so he was like "Wait. Try to have a unified answer kekeke I'll write down everything that I see first - encore, fabric softener, earrings, (concert) directing, birthday party, etc etc)"

Re earrings- he said that he got some ear --

-- infection so he wont be wearing them for a while.

Re directing, he said that he watches concerts/performances of others when he has time and try to learn from them. He also watches a lot of videos & takes down notes. Then "But the hardest part is that I have big ambitions. And

- yet I have to think about the costs first." He also said that it's different for each country- the equipment, conditions, etc. Then "the saddest part of it all is that I cant watch the shows that I'm directing"😭💙 then he said he'll try directing a lot of other artists' --

- (concerts) next year. As for SJ, he already has a lot of (ideas) in mind- things that he wants to do. And said that above all, the most important thing is that the fans get to enjoy (the show).

Re birthday party- he said that he'll do it but they have to see the schedule first-

-by then in order to decide on the date. Then he said "but it's too small, right? Ill try to think of other ideas/options" Then it was 4pm already. He asked if there was anyone who needs to go so he could say goodbye to them first. Then he asked for another topic that we wanted-

-to talk about and said that his phone was already hot. Then someone said Solo album. He said that TBH, he has no desire of having a solo album, he likes doing the group stuff. Then "there's also D&E, if I still do solo album then ill be really busy kekeke" --to be continued--

(thepoppedcherry)

[iriel3000]

ahh! It's done!

A big special Thank You and virtual hug to @scarlettjohanssones for all of the super support, (the mood board!) and beta reading. Another Thank You to SJ and @alicebecketts for the fantastic idea and letting me play, I had a really good time writing this!

The CEO's New Escort

Summary: As the youngest CEO of Stark Industries, Natasha Romanov has no time for personal relationships. Like many other male executives, she uses an escort service to provide the proper dates for high level functions

Natasha is paired with the sexy and charming Clint Barton and finds herself falling for him. When a secret Clint has been hiding is revealed, Natasha is forced to confront her feelings and decide if keeping up appearances is more important than losing him.

TAGS: Fluff and Smut, Porn with Plot, many feelings, a lot of sex, a lot of cuteness too

Chapter One:

Natasha scrolled through the list of potential candidates but nothing jumped out. Here she was, newly appointed head of a publicly traded company on a Saturday night picking out dates from an escort service.

Lifting her wine glass, she downed the bitter liquid with one gulp and swiped left.

When Pepper Stark retired to raise her daughter Morgan, Natasha was named successor as CEO. The youngest in the company’s history at 29, she built a tough as nails reputation and received the playful title as a Black Widow.

“Why don’t we ever see your dates?”

“Do you chew 'em up and spit' em out, Romanov?”

Teasing became gossip. Gossip became scrutiny.

Not at Stark Industries so much as at social events. Natasha didn’t fail to notice how couples received invitations that single executives didn’t or how much influence some of the spouses had.

Yanking her long, red hair out of her tight braid, she swiped left again. Natasha Romanov didn’t need or want anyone restricting her freedom or career but she had to play the game. Always up for a challenge, she viewed it as an experiment. Other male executives used escort services, why couldn't she?

First candidate Natasha picked out was a former army captain named Steve Rogers. Good looking athletic type, perfect in photos but an absolute bore when it came to holding a conversation.

He was sent back immediately.

The next toy was a brooding Russian. Fun in bed, but not someone she could take to a Stark Xmas party.

Thankfully, the third time's a charm.

Sam Wilson. Former college football running back, 6 foot 3, beautiful golden brown skin, nice arms and a chest to eat off of.

However, her staff liked him too much. The comments and questions started after he attended several office functions.

“You two will make beautiful babies.”

“When are you getting married?”

“Natasha, he is perfect for you!”

She couldn't argue that. Sam was perfect in many ways but he meant no more to her than a new intern. A relationship with Sam or any man wasn’t happening with her new position.

So, she set him up with a decent sized ‘severance package’ and they parted ways.

Sam texted her.

Sorry, Tash. Want me to handle a replacement?

She did. If anyone could find her a good match, it would be Sam.

Yes, thank you. I need another YOU.

I’m on it.

The next day...

He will meet you in the Red Room at Stark Tower at 5pm.

Natasha walked into the lounge at 4:45. A quick scan revealed a rugged James Bond type at the bar but he only nodded, a couple of men in suits at a nearby table, a small party and a nervous looking young man in khakis and a button down.

Knowing who she was, the bartender immediately came over and brought her sparkling water.

“Will anyone be joining you tonight, Boss?”

“Ms. Romanov?”

Natasha turned to the attractive man she first spotted.

“I’m Clint Barton. I believe you were expecting me?”

Good job, Sam.

Clint Barton rivaled Sam on almost every level. Not quite as tall but just as built, sharply dressed in casual dress pants and shirt tailored in all of the right places. Definitely a man that took care of himself.

“Yes, thank you for coming on such short notice, Mr. Barton.”

“I apologize for not approaching you sooner. I was told to expect an attractive young CEO, not the most stunning woman I’ve ever seen.”

Natasha tried not to smirk, might have been cheesy if it weren’t for those blue eyes and killer smile.

“Thank you, but save the flattery for my associates this weekend. We’ll need that dazzling smile to charm some of the executives and their better halves.”

He raised his eyebrows and inclined his head briefly in appreciation of the compliment.

“And you,” he leaned in closer, “what will you need of me?”

Her voice caught in her throat. Normally, Natasha had no problem stating what she wanted or expected. The easiest part about working with Sam was his professionalism.

Clint Barton, however, looked at her like she was his next meal.

“Sam didn’t give you instructions?”

“No, I like to learn what a woman wants.”

She moved in closer, straightening her shoulders.

“What I want is for you to be here at 11am tomorrow dressed to impress a lawn full of snobby executives. I want you to be charming and to make me look good.”

“That won’t be difficult.” His eyes trailed lazily over her body. “Would you like me to make you feel good too?”

A slow heat crept up her cheeks. Usually the escorts waited for her to initiate discussions about sex.

“We’ll see if you deserve that privilege. Come with me, please.”

Dinner was delivered and set up in her penthouse, allowing them necessary privacy. His file had not been sent to her yet, giving her the chance to ask the standards.

Barton was 34, originally from the Midwest and worked as a personal trainer during the week, which explained the amazing physique. She never asked about their personal lives, too intrusive.

Progressing to the couch when they finished, Natasha started to unstrap her heels but Clint took over.

“I don't know how you wear these all day.”

One big hand encircled her calf while he slipped off her stiletto. Natasha involuntarily moaned as he massaged the arch, sliding up her ankle and rubbing firmly along her muscles.

“May I ask you a blunt question?”

Grunting with the pain/pleasure of his strong fingers, she answered, “I prefer those.”

“Why do you need me or a dating service? How do you not have men falling at these little manicured feet?”

Clint put just the right amount of pressure to elicit a loud groan from her.

Natasha studied him for a minute trying to determine if this was his normal work banter or not.

“I can’t be bothered.”

He nodded, taking off her other shoe and massaging the Achilles, making her wonder why she hated foot massages this whole time.

“Brutal. I like it.”

Working his way up, he paused at her knee and waited for a sign. She pulled her skirt higher giving him silent permission to go further.

Sliding his hands under both thighs, Clint caressed her ass finding nothing but a thin thong.

“Come here.” The suggestive tone of his voice made Natasha want to obey.

Pulling her onto his lap, Barton nuzzled her cleavage and unbuttoned her blouse.

“I need to feel more of you.”

This was happening too fast. Before she could respond or protest, deliciously calloused hands ran all over her arms, stomach and back, making Natasha dizzy with want.

How did she lose control so quickly?

Greedy fingers betrayed her sensible side and made quick work of Clint’s shirt. Breathing in appreciatively, she traced the hard lines of his chest down to chiseled abs, appreciating the low moan as she ran her hands up and over his arms and through his hair.

He cupped her face with both hands, tilted it down and kissed her. His tongue slipped through parted lips, jaw working against hers for too brief a moment leaving her breathless.

“I want to taste you all over.”

Natasha could only nod mutely, wanting his hands and mouth on every part of her.

Easing off his lap, she stood between his knees letting Clint push her skirt down. Deft hands tracked along the contours of her hips, fingers hooking the lace of her thong, pulling it down slowly, caressing her legs as she stepped out.

He kissed around her stomach, tongue dipping in her bellybutton eliciting a little giggle and squirm from her.

Without warning he stood and swooped her in his arms, depositing Natasha flat on the wide couch and braced himself above her, arms bracketing her head.

“Have you decided if I deserve the honor yet?” Barton asked, nosing along her neck, nipping her collarbone with his teeth.

Natasha momentarily forgot her words from earlier.

“You talk too much.” She fussed playfully trying to regain some semblance of control.

“I’ll put my mouth to better use.” He grinned and slid a bra strap down her shoulder, kissing the soft flesh peeking out from top of the lace material. “Why is this still on?”

Clint exhaled a pleasant sound of surprise when he discovered the front hook. One handed like a pro, he unclasped her bra, hugged Natasha up, sliding it down her arms and flung the last bit of clothing behind his head.

Nudging her back down with a kiss, Clint moved her so one leg fell off the side of the couch, the other over the back so she was perfectly spread wide.

Natasha tried to reposition herself but he stopped her with a soft plea.

“Please don’t. I wish you knew how beautiful you looked right now.”

Her entire body flushed with arousal. With each little nip and suck, Natasha shuddered, sighing with pleasure as he worked his way down leaving no part untouched.

”So pretty.” He breathed against the inside of her thigh.

Every moment he made her wait was like an eternity. Light teasing kisses tickled sensitive spots except the one most needed.

“Clint…”

“Yes, Red?” He asked, lazily running his tongue along the juncture of her inner thigh, nose brushing where she wanted his mouth.

”Please...” Natasha begged, unable to form other words.

“Since you asked so nicely.”

Pressing his lips firmly against her sex, he slid his tongue between her glistening lips and grazed the nub with his teeth.

“Oh fuck…” she jerked her hips, squeezing her legs together.

Clint’s laugh tickled her thighs as he pushed them apart.

“You could kill a man with those.”

She smirked and hooked one leg over his shoulder coming up on her elbows to watch him. Most of the time she was an in-the dark-kinda woman, only wanting to feel the person she was with then get them out as soon as possible, but she wanted to see this time, see if he was enjoying himself or going through the motions of his job.

Clint took his time, running his mouth up along her inner thigh then traced the same path down with his tongue, licking between her folds, slowly circling around and around until he slipped in and briefly flicked her waiting clit.

She canted her hips trying to follow his tongue but he held her down and lightly rubbed her throbbing pussy with one calloused finger tip. Her cry of frustration filled the room.

“Be patient.” He chastised smugly, slipping a finger up inside of her.

“Barton…” she threatened, needing his torture to end but wanting it to go on forever.

He groaned appreciatively as she clamped down, thrusting against his hand when he added a second finger. Natasha whined. If two of his fingers stretched her this pleasantly she looked forward to the rest of him.

Clint latched his mouth onto her, flicking his tongue incessantly until she was writhing beneath him.

Her face screwed up with pleasure and agony as he licked her again and again. His rough stubble against the smooth skin of her thighs amplified the tantalizing sensations running up and down her spine.

Afraid to let go and give in, Natasha tried to push him away but Clint growled ‘no’, tucked her hands underneath her ass and doubled his efforts.

Unable to resist, she relaxed into the erotic pleasure of Clint’s skilled mouth. His hands slid up her torso, gently kneading her breasts, rolling a nipple between his finger and thumb sending waves of pleasure over her body, hitting her with a powerful orgasm.

Natasha arched her back, crying out in ecstasy, bucking her hips but Clint wasn’t done. He kept her pinned down and flattened his tongue, pulsing but not licking, driving her insane. She went from begging him to cum to begging him to stop.

“Please, no more, I can't take it.” She said breathlessly.

He tortured her a little longer, then came up for air. Kissing his way up her body, resting his chin between her breasts, freeing her arms.

Shuddering and trying to catch her breath, Natasha peeked to find him staring at her with a grin.

“What are you doing?” She half laughed and ran her hands through his spiky, sandy blonde hair.

“Watching you recover. The longer it takes, the bigger my ego becomes.”

Natasha fully laughed that time. If he wasn’t so cute with his roughed up hair and crooked smile, she might find his words arrogant.

She closed her eyes, not wanting to move, but Clint got up, robbing her of his body heat.

“Did I say you could leave?” She groaned hearing him put on his shirt.

A low chuckle rumbled in his chest.

“I have to leave you wanting more, don’t I?”

Nat curled her legs up in a ball. Heavy fabric cocooned her body. Clint covered her with his sport coat, tucking it around her shoulders and toes. It smelled good, like him.

He carded his fingers through her hair, bent and kissed behind her ear. An intimate gesture she should put a stop to but those big hands made her insides weak.

“See you at 11, Red.”

Chapter Two posted tomorrow or to continue please click link below

Thank you for reading!!

"Miss Sloan AU"

natasha is a huge CEO of business/cooperation. all she know is her job and nothing else. so she has no time or want for romance in her life, but pleasure? she needs, and she has MONEYYYY. she would buy an escort from time to time, and she has a regular who she calls. (let's pretend maybe alexi when he was her ex husband in the comics idk someone who makes sense and isnt cringy aka steverat ANYWAY) all of a sudden her regular escort has to leave/moves/doesnt wanna work for her anymore, and when she meets up with her regular guy in their usual hotel/room hes not there and its clint and she gets scared shitless that a different random man is in her hotel bed, and not the usual random man in her bed, so yeah.

PROBABLY smut

i can’t think of anything else so if i do i’ll add to it sksksk

*these are just our ideas to help you guys write them if you want! put your own spin to them! we would love love love to read them and give you all the support! and feel free to leave me, or Alice, a message or an ask about your au ideas, if you have any, or to send us your work! tag us (@scarlettjohanssones & @alicebecketts) and use our tag #clintnAUt*

[funkymbtifiction]

I’ve never considered ESTJ tbh. I think I seem to be too unrealistic to be SJ most of the time. Can ESTJ be idealistic and trust deeply in intuition for good or ill? I know it’s a stupid question but I can see that both Ni and Si seem correct and I still don’t understand both of them.

I don’t know if this is Si issue but I tend to view myself as a part in a very large web of fate that joins everybody together. But think deeper I think it comes from what I learn as a child. I think most of my belief system is a blend of many beliefs I learned in my life (from real life, novels, books and experience). And I do trust in its teachings. <-SiNe axis, social dominant in the Enneagram.

But I don’t have the ability to nurture relationship and learn from mistake. I tend to repeat the same pattern, the same mistake if it concerns people. I just can’t wrap my head around how to change. Like recently I try to fix my mistake but I don’t know how to. I mean … I know it’s wrong but I don’t know how to approach people while making them feel good. I can’t be verbal in my affection and I don’t know when to stop when it comes to boundary and end up driving people away. My friends are all tired because I don’t learn from my mistake. I hate myself for it, but I just don’t know how. If Si is learning from experience and fix things then inability to learn from mistake couldn’t be Si, could it? <- if your mistakes are all tied to “people,” it’s a manifestation of immature inferior Fi’s inability to know how to connect to people on an emotional level and be emotionally expressive.

Also, from my ESFJ friend’s word. She has info-graphic memory. When she thinks about something it’s like going back to what happened in the past and zoom in on the exact details that happen. I’ve never really had that moment. I’m terribly forgetful and lack attention to details. It bores me to death. But it could also be argued that I’m detailed person. I love linguistics, ethnic wisdom and ethnography and when it concerns these topics I can nail in on the smallest detail. E.g. my friend mispronounce a word in Indonesian, I immediately correct it. I can spot it from miles away. My friend asks me about phonology and sound change, I gave him all the details I know. When someone writes something and it’s factually not correct about language I can argue on spot. Because I remember it. I even innovate my conlang based on these knowledge though I can’t finish it because new ideas come in and I revise it many times over. When I work out on these knowledge, I rarely need anymore research to write a good article about it. I just know it back to front and can play with it rather fluidly. When I practiced something, say … archery, I need to drill through it and slowly adjust it until I can do it without thinking. If I focus on something I can do it all day, learn it from bit to bit until I know everything about it. But mostly, I’m a slob. <- TeSi. Being a slob has nothing to do with MBTI type. Also, you just Ne-contradicted yourself within the span of a paragraph. You neglect details and hate them, yet have the patience to sit there and learn it incrementally? High Si.

Am I enneagram 1 if I’m not driven to be perfect or hardworking. I shame myself for being improper (too vulnerable, too stiff, not fun, not someone anybody wants to be around) but I can’t do anything much about it. I’m not fun, no way I can be fun and humorous. I’m stiff, no way I can be silly or goofy. I’m emotionally skewed, I’m trying to fix it but don’t know how. I want people to love me as much as anybody but I don’t know how to not drive them away to be honest. My e 3w2 senior usually preaches about him being activist and care about the democracy and politics. I have to say that he disgusts me. So fake, there’s no backbone in those hollow words. He doesn’t feel the ideal in his heart and that disgusts me. <- still sounds like 1w2. Stiff, restrained, self-shaming, propriety, won’t allow yourself to let loose and be silly, yet a 2ish desire for connection and love.

Huzzah to my group for still having been patient with me even with year of mistakes and repeated imperfection. I can’t feel love from anybody around me and I have real trouble making any connections with people because I can’t sense their tender emotions. I can’t really receive their kindness and respond back other than trying to help ‘fix’ something for them. Every attempt to build rapport ends up in people getting annoyed. It’s odd, really. I really don’t know how to express the depth of my feeling without having people getting annoyed or feeling trapped. I don’t even know how much I care about them, I just know that I don’t want to lose them but don’t know how deep it is or how to express it. Sometimes it feels like I only care about myself but that’s not the case. <- you know, this is just inferior Fi frustration and… it’s fine. Seriously. Show people you love them through action and what you DO for them, and stop trying to be “emotional.” You will send yourself into an over-sensitive Fi grip. Tell them they matter to you. Write them a note. Do something for them. And don’t be “needy.”

And … is it normal for ESTJ, one of the most practical of all type, to dream an almost unrealistic dream and actively work for that dream? I dream to create a union for ethnic groups in large scale. Even now I’m working on it. <- how is this unrealistic, though? An unrealistic dream would be you’ve never picked up a guitar in your life, but by this time next year you plan to be front and center on stage as a western star. If you have a semi-realistic dream (a union) and you are actively working toward it, that’s not “impractical.” That’s … well, Te.

But I do have some serious problem of not considering enough big picture (I tend to get hooked up in a single detail or project and forget about the others or feel trapped in the present, like the dream is still a dream even if I work for it). It feels as if I’m trapped in the present and each day is …a day. I scheme to get ahead a lot but when I need to wait for the time to act, I get trapped in the present and lose focus unless forced to focus on it. And other thing is, I suck at organizing. I plan things step by step but when it comes to the entire project, for instance, I tend to neglect one aspect or another at times. Maybe it’s because this is my very first project though. I need to balance out every aspects of project and look at the big picture. I need to learn it. Thankfully, my ENTP co-president is great at big picture thinking <- you can’t be locked in the present, too focused on details, and unable to see the big picture and be an intuitive; they are the opposite – unrealistically focused on an ideal, a concept, the big picture, and neglectful of the details or practicality of it. Sounds like tert-Ne impatience to me; you know what you want, why isn’t it happening yet?

Other thing is, I find many SJs to be hesitant and worrywarts. I’ve never really hesitated to do something ambitious and usually I see someone who hesitate to do what is right or avoid to be cowards. It’s judgmental but that’s how I feel. I’ve never really thought of danger as something to fear but something to confront and fix. People say I’m naive though because I’ve never really think about the danger of the situations and willing to plunge myself into it at anytime.

Spoken like a true social 1-core Te-dom. You’re judging 6-core ISJs.

ETA: So much anxiety and desperate desire to connect to people, btw, shows you are a social dominant, whatever Enneagram type you wind up identifying with. The first dominant focus of the Enneagram instinct is a place of “over-focus,” and you are over-focusing on acceptance. Inclusion. Wanting to participate. Being so “desperate” may be off-putting to people, and prevent you from what you want, so... try cutting yourself some slack, thinking about what is good about you (your logic, your ability to problem-solve, your strength with being in the present), and then “present” that as an offering to connect to other people. Don’t try and connect emotionally, in a Te way, show them what you “bring” to them as a friend, a lover, a participator in life.

[namjoonchronicles]

desire | sj

pairing: seokjin x you

genre: age gap, fluff

prompt: “I don’t blame you for anything.” 

summary: all your life, seokjin was protective of you, like a brother is. things get complicated when you realise that you don’t see him as a brother anymore, now that you’re an adult.

Seokjin hasn’t talked to you ever since he fetched you from the detention centre. And that was three hours ago. The silence is killing you. He gave you his back as he prepared to cook and to be honest, even though he tries to hide his emotions through cooking, he was very mad at you. What do you say to someone who has taken care of you since you were 15 and took you in when no one else wanted you? The eerie silent is consuming you alive. All you could hear is pots clanking with each other as he set one on the stove and have it started up.

“Are you mad?” A stupid question indeed, but it gets the conversation going. And Seokjin answered with a sharp sigh. 

“Mad? Why would I be mad? I just fetched you from a lock-up for driving under the influence and got yourself a probation period, I’m not mad, I’m furious.” Seokjin pour water into the pot and let them boil while he chops off some mushroom on the cutting board. “I wasn’t THAT drunk.” You shrugged, defending yourself, to which Seokjin set his knife down and exhaled sharp.. “I didn’t realise I was raising an alcoholic who thinks it’s okay to drive while being drunk and on the phone…do you understand the dangers you could bring to others and unto yourself. I’m not the nation’s best attorney if you keep acting like this.” Seokjin’s eyes shot at the view behind you and then to you.

“A 0.6 alcohol level doesn’t make me an alcoholic.” You sneered back at him to which he shot, “Go to your room and stay there until further notice. Now.”

Dragging your feet down the hallway, you shouted, “I’m 24 for fuck’s sake!” Seokjin clenched his eyes shut and ran his tongue along his lower lips before reaching for his phone.

Sitting by your bed, you set your head back to the edge of the bed and stared at the ceiling. Seokjin does everything by the book. His parents may have took you in but even when you’re reached adulthood, he was still treating you like you’re fourteen. Over-protective, nagging and just, an annoying older brother. Although he had been raising you like a sibling, you never thought him as that. You had a crush on him. Ever since he kept saving your ass. Back in high school where you were constantly bullied, he was the one that got you home safe. He treated your bruises and made you hot chocolate. Tutor you math and helped you around. But as you get older, you start seeing him as someone whom you’d want to be married to, someone you should take care of, because he rarely takes care of himself.

Problem was, he doesn’t see you the same way.

He placed food on the foldable round table and knocked on your door before opening them. “Food’s here.” He greeted and you climbed down the bed to help him set the table on the floor next to your dressing table. “Eat a lot, I heard you hadn’t eaten since last night.” He sang, as if the bickering earlier didn’t happen. Seokjin doesn’t like quarrelling, so he tends to forget that it happened. Nipping your rice with your chopstick, you savoured in the taste of the beef broth he made. “Now, don’t pick your food or else I’m cooking vegetable for the rest of the week for you.” He warned and it was then you saw his phone blinking an incoming message. He took his phone from the floor with one hand and munched while unlocking them. He smiled appreciatively at whatever that message is saying and you had a strange feeling. Who is he texting and why.

“Who’s that?” You asked. And he gazed up and shook his head, mouthful of food, “…Nothing.” Seokjin had been getting a lot of law under-graduates asking him for tips to excel in exams since the last time he came to give a career talk. His phone kept buzzing incoming messages and it bothered you a lot. “You’ve been receiving a lot calls lately.” You started. Seokjin twitches his eyebrow and continued to place a slice of beef on your bowl of rice, “It’s nothing important anyways, so you shouldn’t worry.” Seokjin took a piece of kimchi and chewed on it noisily. “They’re just very eager to succeed, unlike someone here.” He added fuel into the fire.. “It’s not that I won’t succeed, it’s that, I don’t have interest in it. And they should know that it’s rude to text someone during weekends. People have lives too, you know.” You raised your voice slightly and Seokjin set his chopstick.

“I don’t deserve this level of disrespect, calm down, young lady.”

“Stop talking like you’re my father because you’re not.”

Seokjin swallowed a gulp of saliva and he placed more rice into your almost empty bowl, “Alright then, continue eating.” He notions the bowl closer to you, “It’s rude to be angry in front of a table full of food.” He added. Seokjin left with the tray after a while and when it’s dark he came back to check on you. You left the door unlocked, back to the door and he sat next to your bed where you slept. He then rested his chin on his forearm watching you sleep. How can someone be so stubborn and make him worry all the time be so peacefully sleeping when he can’t even shut his eyes. “I don’t blame you for anything. One day, you’ll find someone you love very much and only then you’ll understand how I feel..” Seokjin sighed inwardly. That’s when you roll to your back and returned your gaze at him, Seokjin wasn’t even surprised. He somehow predicted this to happen.

“What if I’ve already found someone I love?” You asked. Seokjin smiles fondly at you, tucking a lock of hair behind your ear, “Oh really.”

And from the glint of your eyes, he understood so much. And at the same time, disapproves it. “You know we can’t.” He whispered. “We’re not related by blood, how is this wrong?” You murmured back. “Good night,” he towered you and plant a kiss on your forehead before leaving your room.

Seokjin was conflicted and he will forever will be. The thin line between protecting and to love is starting to blur, and he’s very scared of his own desire.