#so I found a few of them and have been reading

[unabashegirl]

Tethered {h.s}

A slow-burning night in Milan turns into something unforgettable when a designer’s assistant and a world-famous artist realize neither of them wants to say goodbye.

Author’s note: This one’s soft, slow, and a little bit starry-eyed — I really loved writing it. Thank you for reading, and as always, your reblogs and comments mean the world to me. 💌 Let me know what you think!

‼️ This fic contains explicit sexual content (18+). Please read responsibly. ‼️

📌 word count -> 8.7K

📌 Please consider joining my Patreon -> Patreon

Harry sat at the end of the long dinner table, half-hidden behind the rim of his wine glass. Crystal chandeliers sparkled above him like a sky of artificial stars, casting shadows that danced over porcelain plates and untouched amuse-bouches. The clinking of forks, the murmurs of conversation in a blur of Italian and French, the low pulse of music in the background—it all felt a touch too loud.

He shouldn’t have come.

He’d flown to Milan for the show, slipped in through the back entrance, nodded politely from the front row, applauded when expected. That had been enough. He’d already planned to slip away quietly, return to the countryside villa in Tuscany where the stone walls were thick, and no one cared what he wore or who he was.

But Alessandro had insisted.

“Just the after party,” he’d said, eyes alight, hands on Harry’s shoulders in a way that left no room for protest. “You’ll vanish tomorrow, tesoro, but tonight? Tonight, you shine.”

And now here he was—boxed into a corner seat, a soft-spoken model chattering beside him about a gallery in Berlin, while the man across the table lit a cigarette without asking. Smoke curled toward the ceiling and Harry breathed it in, sharp and chemical and grounding.

He let his eyes wander.

Golden people. Gold-touched lives. Everyone so sure of themselves, so hungry for attention. Cameras flashed in the corner where someone was pretending not to pose. It was beautiful and hollow and exhausting.

His fingers drummed against the stem of his glass.

“Do you hate it that much?”

The voice cut through his thoughts. Soft, amused, female. Different.

He turned slightly and found you leaning toward him, chin propped on your hand, watching him like you’d been doing it for a while.

“Excuse me?” he said, the edge of his accent curling around the words.

“The party,” you said, lips twitching. “You look like you’d rather be hit by a car than finish that wine.”

He let out a short laugh, dry and surprised.

“You’re not wrong.”

You smiled—tilted and knowing—and lifted your own glass toward him in mock salute. “Cheers to being held hostage by fashion royalty.”

“Cheers,” he muttered, clinking your glass with his before taking a sip he didn’t want.

“Let me guess,” you went on, “you got talked into this by someone you couldn’t say no to.”

He gave you a slow look. “That obvious?”

“Only to the other prisoners.”

He should have noticed her earlier.

Not because she was loud or glittering or trying to be seen—quite the opposite, in fact. She was still, poised, like the eye of a storm. Not the kind of stunning that shouted. The kind that crept up on you slowly, then all at once, like an ache in your chest you only noticed when it was too late.

Her dress was simple. Black, maybe navy, with thin straps and a low back. Nothing flashy—yet it hugged her in a way that made his throat tighten. Her skin glowed under the soft chandelier light, and her hair was pinned up with a few loose strands curling against her neck. She wore no jewelry, except for a thin gold ring on her middle finger and a watch that looked vintage.

Harry blinked. How had he missed her?

He was usually more observant than this. But then again, he’d spent the first half of the night counting down the seconds until he could leave.

Now he found himself leaning in, just slightly.

“You work for Alessandro?” he asked, voice low, suddenly curious. Genuinely curious.

Her eyes, ringed with a subtle sweep of liner, flicked up to meet his. “Mm. Assistant designer.”

“Dream job?”

She tilted her head. “It was.”

Something about the way she said it made him pause.

“And now?”

“Now I’d kill for a glass of water, a hot shower, and a bed that isn’t covered in tulle and half-finished sketches.” She smiled, not bitter—just tired. “But yes. Still the dream.”

He huffed a soft breath of a laugh through his nose. “So, what—you didn’t want to be here either?”

She raised an eyebrow. “Please. I came straight from backstage. I’ve been in four-inch heels since six in the morning. I didn’t even know this dinner was happening until someone shoved a change of clothes at me and said, ‘Smile, you’re going to dinner with celebrities.’”

Harry grinned. “I’m honored.”

“You should be.” She took another sip of wine, then set the glass down and leaned her cheek into her palm again, eyes on him. “But I still would’ve rather gone home.”

He let his eyes linger on her face now, less guarded than before. There was a smudge of fatigue beneath her left eye, just beneath the makeup. Her lipstick had worn off in the center. Her posture was relaxed, casual in the way only people who don’t care to impress can be.

It was disarming.

“You know,” he said slowly, “I think I finally found someone at this table I don’t want to strangle.”

A soft laugh slipped from her lips, not practiced like the others he’d heard tonight. Real.

“Careful,” she said, eyes dancing. “That almost sounded like flirting.”

He tilted his head, lips twitching. “Almost?”

“You’ll have to try harder, Styles.”

And for the first time all evening, he didn’t want to leave.

They stayed there for hours.

The party thinned out slowly, the glamorous slipping away in pairs and groups, laughter trailing like perfume in their wake. Alessandro blew Harry a kiss across the table before disappearing with someone whose name Harry didn’t catch.

But she stayed.

And so did he.

They talked. About the collection. About the chaos backstage. About their favorite places in Italy—hers, a tiny coastal town she refused to name, as if sharing it would make it too real.

He told her he was tired. Not just tonight, but lately. Tired of being watched. Of being on. Of people calling his name who didn’t know him at all.

She didn’t pity him. She just nodded, like she understood something deeper than he’d said aloud.

At some point, her shoes came off. She tucked her legs beneath her on the velvet banquette, wine forgotten, chin resting on her hand again. Her lipstick had vanished entirely, and the pins in her hair were starting to fall. There was a thread coming loose at the hem of her dress, and she didn’t seem to care.

She was stunning. Devastating, even.

He didn’t flirt. Not really. The mood had changed. Something softer had settled in the space between them—something quieter than attraction, heavier than curiosity. He didn’t want to charm her. He just wanted to keep her talking.

But then her phone buzzed.

She glanced at it, sighed. “I’ve got an 8 a.m. fitting. I should—”

“Yeah,” he said, though he didn’t mean it.

She slipped her shoes back on, slow and reluctant, then stood and smoothed her dress. He stood, too, just to feel a little less like a fool.

She reached for her coat, but he caught it first and held it out for her.

“Thank you,” she murmured as she slid her arms into the sleeves.

There was a moment. A brief one. She turned to face him, eyes flicking up to meet his, her breath caught halfway through some unspoken sentence. She looked like she was going to say something more.

But she didn’t.

“Goodnight, Harry,” was all she said instead.

He watched her walk out of the private room and through the ornate archway until she disappeared completely.

He didn’t ask for her number.

And the moment passed.

He was supposed to leave Milan the next morning.

Supposed to escape to the quiet hills of Tuscany, to sun-drenched stone walls and good wine and solitude. That had been the plan.

But now—now all he could see was the curve of her smile under chandelier light. The faintest crease in her brow when she talked about working too hard. The tiny scar on her wrist she hadn’t noticed him noticing. The way she looked at him like she saw him, not the version of him everyone else paraded around.

He couldn’t get her out of his head.

And it drove him mad.

By noon, he’d canceled his flight.

The next morning, Harry sat on the edge of the hotel bed, elbows on his knees, staring at the half-packed suitcase in front of him.

She hadn’t even told him her name.

He didn’t know why that bothered him most. Maybe because it made the whole thing feel like a dream—unreal, hazy around the edges. Like if he blinked too long, he’d forget the sound of her laugh. The way she’d looked at him across the table, unfazed and uninterested in everything except the conversation between them.

He picked up his phone before he could talk himself out of it.

“Alessandro” answered on the second ring.

“Tesoro,” he said in that theatrical lilt that meant he hadn’t looked at the caller ID but assumed it was someone who owed him something. “If this is about last night, I—”

“It’s Harry.”

A beat.

“Ah. Mio caro. You survived.”

“Barely.” Harry exhaled, thumb rubbing against the hem of his T-shirt. “Listen. Can I—can I come by the atelier?”

Alessandro paused. “Why?”

“I just…” He hesitated, then chose honesty. “I met someone. I think she works with you.”

That caught his attention.

“Oh,” Alessandro said, drawing the word out with interest now. “La ragazza. You mean the one with the tired eyes and the sharp tongue?”

Harry’s lips twitched despite himself. “That’s the one.”

“Mmm. She’s good. Too good for us, really. Always trying to fix everything. Always working too hard.” He clicked his tongue. “You want me to give you her number?”

Harry hesitated. “No. I’ll just… drop by. If that’s okay.”

There was a pause on the line. Then Alessandro said, suddenly enthusiastic, “Actually, it’s perfect. I’ve got a few pieces I want to try out. I need a body that photographs like sin.”

Harry rolled his eyes, but smiled. “That’s a yes, then?”

“Come in after lunch. But don’t distract my staff, capito?”

Harry ended the call, stomach churning with something too restless to name.

The atelier smelled like steam, fabric glue, and espresso.

When Harry walked through the glass double doors, heads turned instantly. Conversations stuttered mid-sentence. A model standing near the sewing station almost dropped her coffee. One of the interns gasped audibly and clutched a pin cushion to her chest like a shield.

Harry was used to being stared at. But this felt different—more intimate. Like they hadn’t expected him here, in this space. And truthfully, he hadn’t expected it either.

He wore wide-leg black trousers and a soft ivory button-down left slightly open at the chest. The fabric fluttered as he walked, breezy and effortless. His sunglasses were tucked into the collar. His sleeves rolled up messily to his elbows. Tattoos peeked through like secrets.

He looked like someone who didn’t belong in a workspace—but owned it anyway.

“Dio santo,”Alessandro’s voice echoed from the back of the room. “Someone tell me I didn’t die and go to heaven.”

Harry turned just as his friend appeared dramatically from behind a curtain of unfinished muslin, arms open wide.

“Still so dramatic,” Harry drawled.

“And yet you’re the one walking into my atelier dressed like a poet who fucks.”

Harry barked out a laugh. A few interns nearby did too, before pretending to be horrified with themselves.

Alessandro clapped a hand on his shoulder and pulled him in for a kiss on both cheeks. “You look good. Tired. But good.”

“Long night.”

“Was she that good?” Alessandro winked, already walking him toward the back of the studio. “Come. I’ll make you a coffee. You can tell me everything—slowly, and with descriptions.”

“I didn’t sleep with her.”

Alessandro turned around so fast his oversized rings clicked against each other.

“You what?”

“I talked to her. That’s it.”

“And now you’re here, stalking her at work?”

Harry gave him a look. “Not stalking.”

“Obsessing?”

“…Maybe.”

Alessandro beamed, pleased. “You really are a poet.”

They passed bolts of fabric, mannequins mid-draped, and models half-dressed for fittings. A few assistants whispered and turned away quickly when Harry caught their eye. The space was loud but focused—everyone moving, measuring, correcting, perfecting.

When they reached the back office, Harry paused.

His eyes had caught something.

It was on the worktable—half-buried under fabric swatches, loose sketches, and someone’s espresso cup. A sheet of paper with sharp pencil strokes and smudged charcoal, clearly drawn quickly. Instinctively.

A sketch

Of him.

It wasn’t perfect—his jaw was too sharp, and the slope of his nose exaggerated—but it was him. The shirt he’d worn last night. The curve of his hand wrapped around the stem of a wine glass. The thoughtful tilt of his head.

It was him, seen through someone else’s eyes.

“She did that?” he asked quietly.

Alessandro leaned in, raised a brow, then laughed. “Dio. She said she couldn’t sleep.”

Harry didn’t say anything for a second. He just kept looking.

She’d shaded the eyes last. It was the only part of the sketch untouched by smudges. Carefully defined. Focused.

As if she’d started drawing a stranger and ended up sketching someone she couldn’t look away from.

“You’re in trouble,” Alessandro murmured, watching him.

Harry didn’t argue.

The sketch sat between them like it had a heartbeat.

Harry’s fingers hovered just above the edge of the paper, not touching, not daring to. It felt too personal—like reading a diary he hadn’t been meant to find.

“She sees things,” he murmured, voice lower now.

Alessandro leaned against the edge of the desk, arms crossed, watching him with interest. “Mmhmm. That’s what makes her so good. She notices what others miss. Details. Stillness.”

Harry swallowed. His gaze lingered on the slope of the sketch’s neck, the way she’d captured the slight tilt of his head. He hadn’t even known he’d sat like that. Had she been watching him the whole time?

“I have to go back to Tuscany,” he said after a long silence.

Alessandro sighed, almost theatrically. “Always running away to your Tuscan hills. You and your romantic recluse act.”

“I need the quiet.”

“And yet… here you are,” he said, gesturing loosely to the sketch, to the space between them filled with something unsaid. “Chasing the girl who kept you talking all night.”

Harry didn’t deny it.

“I want to know her,” he said, soft but firm. “But how do I ask her that? It’s Milan Fashion Week. She’s working herself into the ground. Everyone wants something from someone here.”

Alessandro tilted his head. “And what would you want from her?”

Harry exhaled slowly. “A name. A real conversation. Not the kind that disappears when the wine wears off.”

His friend studied him for a moment. Then, instead of teasing, he said with rare quiet, “Then wait. Let her breathe. You’re not the only one who hasn’t stopped moving.”

Harry gave him a look. “You’re unusually wise today.”

“I’ve been moisturized, well-fed, and slightly tipsy since nine a.m. I’m glowing with clarity.”

Harry huffed a laugh, leaning back slightly, eyes still on the sketch.

The rest of the atelier buzzed around them, models being pinned into half-finished garments, music humming low, scissors snipping in rhythm. But in this small corner of it all, time felt still.

Harry didn’t know her name.

But he knew how she saw the world. And he wasn’t sure he’d ever had someone look at him like that before.

Y/N pushed the atelier door open with her shoulder, arms full of garment bags, phone pressed to her ear, and a headache blooming just behind her right temple.

“No, I didn’t forget the zippers,” she hissed into the phone. “I reminded Martina three times—yes, okay, I’ll check again. I’m literally walking in right now—”

She stopped.

Mid-step. Mid-sentence.

The call disconnected without her even realizing it.

He was there.

Standing near the back of the room, in soft sunlight streaming through the tall windows, his sleeves still rolled to his elbows, one hand lazily tucked into the pocket of his black trousers.

Harry Styles.

From the dinner party.

From the night that hadn’t left her mind since she’d walked away from it.

He was staring at something on the table. Her table.

No—her sketch.

Y/N’s breath caught in her throat.

For a second, the atelier faded. The sewing machines, the models rehearsing runway turns, the steady hum of caffeine-fueled assistants. It all went still.

He looked up slowly. Like he’d felt her walk in.

His eyes met hers across the room. And for a second, neither of them moved.

Then Alessandro appeared beside him with a dramatic little flourish, voice ringing across the floor.

“Amore! You’re late. He’s been waiting.”

“Waiting?” Her voice came out softer than she meant, throat still tight.

Alessandro grinned. “Yes. For you.”

Her stomach flipped.

Harry straightened but didn’t come closer. He didn’t speak yet, either. Just watched her. His expression unreadable, but his eyes were soft. Curious. A little uncertain. The same way they’d looked across the dinner table the night before, in the quiet lull between laughter and the end of something unfinished.

Y/N crossed the floor carefully, trying not to trip over herself—or her thoughts.

She stopped a few feet away. Close enough to see the faint smile at the corner of his mouth. Close enough to see that he was holding the sketch now.

The paper looked delicate in his hands.

“I didn’t think you’d…” she started, then stopped. “I didn’t know you were still in Milan.”

“I wasn’t supposed to be,” he said.

“And now?”

His eyes met hers again. Calm. Clear.

“I changed my plans.”

She didn’t know what to say to that. The atelier felt too loud. The moment too quiet.

Then he held out the sketch to her.

“I don’t usually let people see me like this,” he said. “But you already have.”

Y/N stared at him, pulse fluttering wildly in her chest.

Somewhere near them, Alessandro sighed and muttered, “I swear to God, if you two don’t kiss by Friday, I’m firing someone.”

Neither of them laughed.

They were still staring.

Waiting.

Y/N felt heat creep up the back of her neck.

It was ridiculous—blushing, at her big age, in the middle of Milan Fashion Week, in front of Harry Styles holding her sketch like it meant something.

But he was looking at her like it did.

His eyes dipped back down to the page, then up again, and she knew—knew—he recognized the vulnerability in it. Not just his likeness. Her gaze. How she’d seen him.

She didn’t know how to explain that. Or if she even wanted to.

“Scusate!” Alessandro called out, breaking the tension with the subtlety of a cannon blast. “Enough of the romantic staring. We have clothes to fit and muses to dress!”

Y/N blinked, startled.

Alessandro waved dramatically toward a nearby rack. “The garments for Harry are there—adjustment pile. I need you to help him try them on. And be gentle, he bruises like a peach.”

“I do not,” Harry said mildly, but the corner of his mouth twitched.

“Go on, go on,” Alessandro pushed, already turning on his heel like he had six more crises to attend to. “Take him to the blue room. Away from the nosy eyes and gossiping mouths.”

Y/N hesitated, then moved toward the rack, pulling out the few pieces with Harry’s name labeled in chalk on the tags. When she turned, he was already beside her.

“Blue room?” he asked, voice low and warm.

She nodded, trying to play it cool. “This way.”

They walked together down the hallway—past racks of sequins and silk, assistants threading needles, interns whispering in corners. She could feel the glances, but no one dared say anything with Harry next to her.

She opened the door to the blue room—a fitting space draped in soft navy velvet, with tall antique mirrors, gold hooks on the walls, and a plush settee in the corner.

It was quiet.

Safe.

She set the clothes on a nearby stool, then turned to him, still blushing but trying not to show it.

“I can step out if you want to change.”

He shook his head gently. “Only if you want to.”

Y/N hesitated—long enough for the air to grow heavier between them.

Then she crossed to the wall and busied herself with unzipping one of the garment bags.

Behind her, she heard the soft rustle of fabric, the click of buttons.

Neither of them said a word.

But the silence wasn’t awkward.

It was full.

Of everything they hadn’t said the night before.

Y/N kept her eyes fixed on the garment bag even after the zipper was all the way down.

She could hear him behind her—slow, unhurried movements as he peeled off his shirt. Fabric slipping from skin. The rustle of trousers. A belt unlooped.

She swallowed and cleared her throat lightly. “We’ll start with the navy wool suit. Alessandro’s trying to decide between that and the double-breasted.”

“Which one’s yours?” Harry asked, voice low and casual, but something in it tugged.

She turned to face him and felt her breath hitch for half a second.

He stood in just his boxers, toned and freckled and barefoot on the velvet carpet. His tattoos looked darker in this light, ink swimming across golden skin. He didn’t smirk, didn’t tease—just looked at her like he wanted to know the answer.

She held out the navy jacket first.

“That one,” she said. “I adjusted the silhouette last week. Softer at the waist. You’re broader than the model who fit it originally.”

Harry stepped forward, close enough that she had to tilt her chin up slightly.

She lifted the jacket, letting him slide his arms into it. He moved slowly, watching her face the whole time. When she reached to smooth the fabric at his shoulders, her fingers brushed the warm curve of his neck.

He didn’t flinch.

Neither did she.

Her hands trailed down to the lapels, tugging gently, then smoothing them flat. She could feel his breath now. Could smell whatever cologne clung faintly to his skin—clean and woodsy and a little sinful.

“Too tight?” she asked, voice barely above a whisper.

“No,” he said. “Feels good.”

She glanced up and met his eyes—greener than they had any right to be, soft at the edges.

He didn’t look away.

“Pants next,” she said, trying to gather the tension and place it somewhere more manageable—like professionalism. But her fingers trembled slightly as she reached for the waistband of the trousers and held them out.

He stepped closer to take them, and when his fingers brushed hers, it was brief.

But not forgettable.

He turned, and stepped into the trousers. She waited, staring down at her hands as if they might do something stupid on their own.

When he turned back, the pants hung too low at the hips.

“Come here,” she murmured, reaching for a box of pins on the small table nearby. “I need to mark the waist.”

He stepped toward her again, and she knelt slightly, fingers brushing the waistband, folding the fabric gently before pinning it.

His breath caught when her hand brushed the sharp line of his hip.

She looked up at him—so close now her breath stirred the fabric of his shirt.

“You okay?” she asked softly.

He looked down at her, lips parted.

“No,” he said, without hesitation. “Not really.”

The pin hovered in her fingers, forgotten.

Her fingers still rested lightly against the waistband of his trousers, pin tucked into the fabric but forgotten.

Harry was looking down at her like he was trying to memorize the shape of her face. Not in a performative way. Not like a man used to getting what he wanted. More like someone who had stumbled into something unexpected—and didn’t want to move too fast and ruin it.

Y/N swallowed.

She was still crouched just enough to be level with his chest, close enough to feel his body heat roll off of him in quiet waves.

“Not really?” she repeated, voice barely above a whisper.

Harry let out a slow breath through his nose.

“I thought I’d forget you when I left that dinner.”

Her eyes flicked up to meet his.

He wasn’t smiling.

“I told myself it was just the wine. The lighting. The moment,” he said, voice soft and steady. “But I haven’t stopped thinking about you. Not for one second.”

The pin slipped from her hand, landing soundlessly on the carpet between them.

Her hand remained against the fold of his trousers, unmoving.

“I don’t even know your name,” he added, like it physically pained him to admit it.

She blinked slowly. Her voice, when it came, was quiet—delicate around the edges.

“Y/N.”

His lips parted. He said it once, just to feel it. Like a secret he’d been dying to be told.

“Y/N,” he repeated. “You said goodnight like you didn’t want me to follow.”

“I didn’t,” she murmured. “Because I didn’t think you would.”

Silence bloomed again, thick and real.

She stood slowly, rising to meet him.

Now they were eye to eye.

The pinned waistband rested between them. Her hands hovered, unsure whether to stay or fall away. But he didn’t move. Didn’t break eye contact.

“You still leaving for Tuscany?” she asked quietly.

He studied her for a long moment. Then, with a small breath:

“Not yet.”

And somehow, that said everything.

Before either of them could say another word—before Harry could reach for her, or she could step back and figure out what to do with the storm suddenly curling in her chest—the door burst open.

“Dio mio, do I have to do everything myself—”

Alessandro froze in the doorway, a bolt of silk slung dramatically over one arm, an iPad in the other, sunglasses still perched on top of his head like a crown.

He blinked at the scene in front of him.

Y/N standing a breath away from Harry, her hands still near his waist. Harry staring at her like she held every answer to questions he hadn’t known he was asking.

Alessandro’s gaze flicked to the fallen pin on the floor. To the tension thick enough to cut with his shears.

“Oh,” he said simply. “Oh.”

Harry stepped back a little, but not far. His fingers grazed the hem of the jacket, suddenly all too aware of how exposed he still was.

Y/N blinked fast, like she’d been yanked out of a dream.

Alessandro didn’t even pretend to hide his smirk. “Should I… come back later? Or bring champagne and officiate?”

Y/N flushed. “I was just pinning the trousers.”

“Of course you were,” he said with a dramatic wink. “And I’m just here for the invisible lining specifications.”

Harry cleared his throat. “You needed something?”

“Oh yes!” Alessandro snapped back into motion, waving the iPad like it held state secrets. “The double-breasted. We need to compare it with the navy one. And also—press people are asking if you’re still in Milan and where you are. I told them you were having a moment of spiritual clarity and couldn’t be disturbed.

“Thanks,” Harry said dryly.

“Anytime, tesoro mio.”

Y/N was already bending to retrieve the pin, carefully smoothing her features back into neutral.

But something had shifted.

Harry saw it in the way her hands moved more slowly now. The way she didn’t quite meet his eyes.

And he hated that they’d been interrupted.

Alessandro handed over the second jacket, still talking, oblivious to the invisible thread still pulling tight between the two of them.

But Harry knew.

So did she.

The rest of the fitting passed in a blur.

Y/N did her job—focused, efficient, eyes trained on fabric, not him. But Harry felt her in every moment. In the way her hand brushed his sleeve when she adjusted the shoulder seam. In the way she quietly handed him a glass of water while Alessandro chattered away about lapels and runways. In the way she never quite looked at him the same after that moment in the blue room.

By mid-afternoon, the atelier had thinned out. Models gone. Garments tagged and bagged. Lights dimmer now, casting warm amber shadows across the floor.

Harry stood near the back hallway, one hand in his pocket, the other idly playing with a pin she’d left behind on a table.

He heard her before he saw her.

Her steps were softer now. Slower. Less hurried.

She turned the corner and froze, a tote slung over one shoulder, her phone in hand.

“You’re still here?” she asked softly.

He looked up. “Didn’t feel like leaving.”

A beat passed.

Then: “You always this persistent?”

Harry tilted his head, lips curling. “Only when I’m interested.”

She leaned against the wall across from him, the distance between them quiet and humming. The hum of two people who hadn’t let go of the moment, even after the door had slammed open and the world had resumed spinning.

“I wasn’t expecting you today,” she said.

“I wasn’t expecting you last night.”

Her eyes flicked up. Met his. Steadier this time.

He took a small step closer.

“I meant what I said,” he told her. “About not being able to forget you.”

She exhaled slowly, as if trying to keep her chest from shaking. “Why me?”

Harry looked at her like it was obvious.

“Because you didn’t try to be anything you’re not. Not last night. Not today. And because I liked the way you looked at me.”

She blinked.

“That sketch,” he said quietly.

Her throat bobbed.

“I didn’t think you’d ever see it.”

“I don’t think I was supposed to,” he added. “But I’m glad I did.”

The silence that followed wasn’t awkward.

It was weighty.

Soft.

Important.

Y/N shifted slightly, hugging her tote tighter to her shoulder.

“I’m not good at this,” she admitted. “Whatever this is.”

Harry smiled. “Neither am I.”

Another beat.

Then she said, voice quieter than before, “I get off at eight.”

His eyebrows lifted slightly.

She shrugged. “There’s a café two blocks down. No cameras. Good pastries. Better wine.”

Harry nodded. “I’ll be there.”

She turned to go, then paused, glancing back once over her shoulder.

“Wear something less poetic.”

He laughed, eyes crinkling. “No promises.”

And just like the night before, she walked away.

But this time, he had her name.

And a place to find her.

The café sat on a quiet side street tucked behind an ivy-covered wall, the kind of place that didn’t bother with signs or menus in English. Inside, it smelled like espresso, warm bread, and rain-soaked stone.

Harry got there first.

He chose a table near the window—half-shadowed, half-lit by the amber glow of a single pendant lamp above. The table was small. Intimate. Like the whole place was built to protect secrets.

He wore a dark sweater this time. Hair tousled, sleeves pushed up, rings clinking gently as he turned his wine glass between his fingers. He hadn’t touched the drink.

He was waiting.

At 8:04, the door creaked open.

Y/N stepped in, cheeks flushed from the chill outside, her coat slightly damp at the shoulders. She looked like she didn’t belong in the curated dimness of Milan’s fashion scene. She looked like something real walking into a dream.

He stood as she approached.

“You came,” he said quietly.

“You waited,” she replied, slipping her coat off and draping it on the back of the chair. “That’s rare.”

He sat. Watched her settle in. She wore a soft grey sweater, sleeves too long, the neckline a little stretched. Bare-faced, tired, beautiful.

“I wanted to see you like this,” he said, almost without meaning to. “When you’re not working. Not running.”

She tilted her head. “And what do you see?”

Harry considered her for a long moment. “Someone I want to keep learning.”

The silence that followed wasn’t awkward.

It was warm.

Grounded.

The waitress brought them wine, then disappeared like she knew better than to linger.

They talked. About nothing and everything. Favorite songs. Childhood cities. Her first sketch that got noticed. His first panic attack on tour. The kind of conversation that skipped small talk entirely and went straight to the parts people usually hide.

By the time they finished the second glass, the café had emptied out.

A bell chimed quietly as someone left. It was just them now, shadows long, voices low.

Y/N looked down at her glass, fingers tracing the rim. “This feels like a mistake,” she whispered.

Harry’s brows pulled together. “Why?”

“Because it feels too easy. And nothing good in my life has ever felt easy.”

He reached across the table, hand brushing hers. Slowly. Not to hold it. Just to be near.

“Maybe this time it’s not a trick,” he said. “Maybe it’s just… timing.”

She looked up at him.

And for once, she didn’t look away.

Her hand turned, gently curling around his. The touch was light, like a promise not to rush.

He stood then, still holding her gaze, and walked around to her side of the table.

She looked up at him, eyes wide, but not nervous.

He reached for her—slowly, giving her time.

And when she didn’t stop him, he leaned in.

The kiss was soft. Careful. His hand cupped her jaw, thumb brushing just beneath her ear. Her lips parted slightly in surprise, then eased into his like they’d been waiting all day. All week.

It didn’t last long.

But it said everything.

When they pulled apart, her eyes were still closed for a beat longer than his.

“You’re not going to disappear after this, are you?” she whispered.

He smiled, thumb still against her skin.

“No,” he said. “Not this time.”

The has changed everything.

But there was no dramatic shift. No confession. No morning spent tangled in bedsheets. Just a quiet parting in front of the café, a lingering glance, a smile that meant this isn’t over, and the warmth of his hand briefly resting on her back as he helped her into her coat.

But after that, something softened between them.

It began with messages.

Late at night. Between fittings and castings. Between hotel rooms and crowded trams.

H: Still thinking about that lemon tart you didn’t let me try.

Y/N: You could’ve asked instead of staring at it like a Victorian orphan.

H: Are you always this mean to people you kiss?

Y/N: Only the ones who show up in perfect lighting and ruin my concentration.

Then, it became time.

Shared quietly. Without labels. Without plans.

She stopped being surprised when he’d show up at the atelier with espresso and fresh cornetti.

He stopped being surprised when she showed up at his flat on a Wednesday night, hair in a bun, sketchbook under her arm, and no explanation at all.

It became a rhythm.

Late dinners in his temporary apartment—sometimes pasta, sometimes toast, sometimes nothing but red wine and stolen bites of chocolate. They’d sit on the floor with the windows open, music low, the city humming below.

She’d draw while he played her records. He’d watch her from the couch, fascinated by the way her mouth twisted when she concentrated, how her hands smudged graphite across her cheek.

He never kissed her again—not yet.

But he wanted to.

Every time she leaned close to show him a sketch.

Every time she laughed and touched his knee like it was nothing.

Every time she fell asleep beside him on the sofa, curled in his hoodie, toes tucked under his thigh, trusting him completely.

One night, they sat together on the balcony, shoulders brushing, a blanket wrapped loosely around both of them.

It had started to rain—just lightly, Milan glistening below.

She was quiet. Tired. Her cheek resting on his shoulder. The kind of tired that wasn’t just physical, but lived-in. The kind that came from carrying too much alone.

Harry didn’t speak.

He just let her be there.

With him.

He reached for her hand eventually, sliding his fingers between hers without looking down.

She didn’t pull away.

Instead, she said, voice low and unguarded, “I’m not used to this.”

He turned his head, brushing his lips to her hair.

“To what?”

“This,” she murmured. “The quiet. The kindness. The… waiting.”

Harry gave her hand the gentlest squeeze.

“I’m not in a rush,” he said.

And he meant it.

Because the truth was, he wanted to wait.

He wanted to stay in this moment.

Where nothing had to be said.

Where the kiss still lingered, unspoken.

Where the closeness meant more than anything they could’ve done in a single night.

It started with a headline.

She didn’t even see it first—Martina did, shoving her phone in Y/N’s face as they passed bolts of silk in the atelier’s back corridor.

“Who’s Milan’s Mystery Muse? Harry Styles Spotted Leaving Hidden Flat Night After Night.”

Below it: grainy, zoomed-in photos. A hand that could be hers. A blur of her coat. The outline of Harry’s profile as he stepped into the building’s side entrance.

“Is this you?” Martina asked, wide-eyed.

Y/N stared, heart dropping into her stomach.

Alessandro appeared minutes later, sunglasses pushed to the top of his head, iPad under one arm, espresso in hand. His usual chaotic energy was buzzing on a different frequency now—less flamboyant, more serious.

“I told you to be careful,” he said quietly, pulling her aside.

“I was.”

“Not careful enough. They always find you, cara. Especially when the man you’re seeing has a face made for Vogue covers and half the world on alert.”

Y/N closed her eyes for a second.

“It’s just gossip,” she said. “There’s nothing confirmed.”

“Exactly. Which means they’ll dig deeper.”

Alessandro sighed and placed his espresso down with too much force. “I can’t have drama around the show right now. I love him, but if this leaks further—if they start naming names—you will be the one who pays for it. Not him.”

She knew he was right.

That night, she didn’t go to Harry’s apartment.

She didn’t answer his text.

Or the one after that.

H: Did I do something wrong?

H: Is this about the article? I can make it go away.

H: Say something, yeah?

It wasn’t until the following evening that she finally gave in.

The city was loud outside. Her thoughts louder.

She stood outside his apartment building for ten full minutes before buzzing up.

When the door finally opened, he stood there barefoot, in joggers and a threadbare hoodie, curls pushed back from his face, tired written across his eyes.

He didn’t say anything.

Neither did she.

Not until she stepped inside and the door clicked shut behind her.

Then: “They found us.”

Harry didn’t look surprised. “They always do.”

“I didn’t sign up for that.”

“I know.”

“I work here,” she said. “In this world. I can’t afford to be the reason people talk. Not like that.”

Harry crossed the room slowly, voice steady but quiet. “You think I don’t know that?”

She blinked, stunned by the flicker of pain in his expression.

“I’ve spent years keeping people at arm’s length for exactly this reason,” he said. “But then you showed up. And for the first time in a long time… I didn’t want to.”

Silence bloomed between them again.

Then—softly:

“I missed you last night.”

Her chest ached.

“I was scared,” she admitted. “I still am.”

He stepped closer.

“Then stay scared with me,” he said gently. “I’ll wait. I’ll protect it. I won’t let them turn it into something it’s not.”

She looked up at him.

“I told you that I don’t know how to do this.”

Harry gave a soft smile. “We don’t have to know. We just have to keep choosing it.”

Another long beat.

Then, finally, her hand reached for his.

Their fingers laced together. Solid. Sure.

He didn’t kiss her right away — just looked at her like he was taking a photograph. Something in his expression said, This is the moment I’ll think about when you’re not here.

She stepped into his space, heart slamming behind her ribs.

“I don’t want to leave,” she whispered.

“Then don’t,” he said again — softer this time. Like a plea. “Stay. Just tonight.”

The walk to the couch felt like crossing into something irreversible. Neither rushed. Neither said a word.

When he finally kissed her, it wasn’t hesitant. It was slow but certain. Like he knew now — that she wanted him just as much, that she wasn’t going to disappear again.

Their mouths moved like they’d been made for this rhythm. Her hands curled behind his neck, into his hair, pulling him closer. His lips dragged down the column of her throat, over the hinge of her jaw.

He groaned softly against her skin. “You always smell this good?”

She smiled against his cheek. “Maybe you’re just obsessed.”

“God help me,” he muttered, mouth pressed to her collarbone. “I think I am.”

They sank into the couch in a tangle of limbs, heat blooming between them like a spark finally catching. His hands moved with reverence, palms splaying wide over her sides, thumbs brushing beneath the curve of her breasts as if asking, Can I?

She nodded. “Touch me, Harry.”

His breath caught.

He pushed her shirt up, dragging it over her head in one slow motion. She wore no bra. His lips parted like he’d forgotten how to speak.

“Jesus Christ.”

She flushed — and not from modesty. From the way he was looking at her. Like her body was art, something rare and unspeakably precious.

“Come here,” she whispered, pulling him in again.

His mouth latched to her breast with a groan, hand cupping the other as his tongue circled her nipple slowly, then suckled. She gasped, arching into his touch, fingers tightening in his hair.

“Fuck,” she whimpered. “That feels…”

“Yeah?” he asked, voice thick, mouth hot against her skin. “Tell me.”

She grabbed his hand, slid it down the slope of her belly, into the waistband of her jeans.

“Want your fingers.”

He exhaled sharply, eyes flicking to hers as he popped the button open. “Yeah darlin’? Been thinking about this?”

“All week,” she admitted, breathless.

He kissed her hard, groaning into her mouth as he pushed her jeans down, tugging her panties along with them. She kicked them off without grace.

His hand found her again — bare now, soft and slick and so warm.

“Fucking hell,” he breathed. “You’re soaked.”

She jerked in his grip when he dragged two fingers through her folds, teasing over her clit.

“Harry—”

“Shhh,” he soothed, kissing her jaw. “Let me make you feel good. I want to know what you sound like when you fall apart.”

Her eyes fluttered closed as his fingers slid inside — not rushed, just deep. Full. Familiar, but so much better like this.

He fucked her slow with his hand, thumb circling her clit in just the right way, his mouth on her neck, whispering praise between every shaky breath.

“You’re perfect like this, d’you know that? So fucking beautiful, so tight around me…”

Her thighs trembled. “I’m close—oh my god—Harry—”

“That’s it,” he murmured. “Come for me, baby. Come on, let me see it.”

She shattered in his arms with a gasp, legs clenching, hips bucking into his hand.

He didn’t pull away until she whimpered from the sensitivity.

Then he kissed her — deep, open-mouthed, like he was starving.

“Need to be inside you,” he rasped, forehead pressed to hers. “Need it so bad.”

She reached down, palm brushing over his bulge through his boxers. “Then take me.”

He didn’t move for a moment — just looked at her like she’d handed him something he didn’t deserve.

“You’re sure?”

She nodded. “Harry. I want all of you.”

That broke him.

“Condom?” she asked softly, already reaching for her bag.

“I’ve got it,” he murmured, voice tight, kissing her jaw as he stood long enough to grab a condom from his wallet, yanking his boxers down, cock flushed and leaking, so hard it looked painful, “Been carrying one around like an idiot. Just in case.”

She laughed—quiet and breathless.

She sat up, breath catching as she watched him roll it on. “Jesus.”

Harry laughed, low and wrecked. “Don’t look at me like that or this’ll be over too fast.”

He climbed back over her, kissing her lips, her jaw, her throat.

“Tell me how you like it,” he whispered against her skin. “Tell me what feels good.”

“I don’t care,” she gasped. “Just—want to feel you.”

He nudged at her entrance, pushed in slow — so fucking slow — and cursed as her body stretched around him, taking him inch by inch.

“You’re—fuck—you feel unreal.”

Her hands fumbled for him, needing to hold something as he bottomed out.

They stilled together, both breathing hard.

Then he began to move.

Rhythmic, smooth, dragging every ounce of pleasure out of every stroke. She whimpered beneath him, gripping his arms, nails biting into his skin.

“Faster,” she whispered.

“You sure?”

“Yes, god—Harry—please—”

He obeyed.

The sound of skin on skin filled the room, along with her moans, his low grunts, the sharp edge of his voice every time he said her name like a prayer.

She pulled him down, kissing him desperately. “Don’t stop. I’m—shit—I’m gonna—”

He reached between them, thumb circling her clit again, and she came with a sob, clenched around him so tight he had to stop moving for a second.

“Fuck—fuck, I’m gonna come—”

“Got you,” he groaned, thrusting once, twice more before spilling into the condom, his body going rigid above her, head bowed, hair falling into his face.

When he collapsed beside her, he pulled her into his arms immediately, breath still uneven.

They stayed that way for minutes — nothing but skin and breath and warmth.

She pressed a kiss to his chest.

“I think we just broke the world,” she whispered.

Harry laughed, hoarse and happy. “I’d do it again.”

Y/N woke slowly.

Not to an alarm. Not to the click of her heels across the tiled hallway of the atelier. Not to the dull ache behind her eyes from lack of sleep or too much wine.

But to warmth.

Soft sheets. The smell of Harry’s skin. Her cheek pressed to his chest, his arm curled securely around her back, his fingers tangled in her hair like he hadn’t let go all night.

She blinked, heart heavy with something she didn’t know how to name yet.

Harry was still asleep — or half-asleep, at least. His breathing was slow, steady. His lips slightly parted. The corners of his mouth curled just enough that she could tell his dreams weren’t bad.

She watched him for a long moment.

The room was bright now. Morning light poured in through the slatted blinds, casting soft golden stripes across the hardwood floor. His coat was still draped over the armchair where she’d thrown it. One of her earrings glinted on the floor. Her clothes were in a heap by the couch.

They’d never made it to the bed.

She smiled to herself.

Carefully, she shifted, propping herself up on one elbow to get a better look at him. The angles of his jaw, the curve of his neck, the tiny pink scratch near his shoulder she hadn’t remembered leaving.

Her heart ached. In the good way.

Harry stirred, lashes fluttering open.

She expected something groggy, a mumble, a sleepy blink. But his eyes found hers almost instantly.

Like he’d already known she was there.

“Morning,” he rasped.

She bit back a smile. “Morning.”

He stretched beneath her, groaning softly. “What time is it?”

She shrugged. “Does it matter?”

His hand slid down to the small of her back, palm spreading wide, warm and grounding.

“No,” he said. “It doesn’t.”

They stared at each other.

There was no rush between them. No awkward tension. Just a stretch of silence that felt more like understanding than anything else.

Y/N broke first. “Last night…”

Harry raised a brow. “Yeah?”

“I don’t think I can go back to pretending it didn’t mean something.”

He studied her carefully. “You thought I could?”

“I don’t know,” she said, honestly. “You’re used to this. The press, the afterparties, the camera flashes. I’m just… me.”

“You think that matters?”

She looked down. “It should.”

Harry reached up and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

“I’ve had a lot of people in my life,” he said quietly. “People who wanted things from me. People who stayed as long as the lights were bright.”

She looked up again.

“But you?” His thumb brushed her cheek. “You were gonna disappear. Not because you didn’t care, but because you did. Because you were scared. And you still showed up anyway.”

“I didn’t want to,” she said, voice cracking. “I wanted to go back to my apartment. I wanted to shut the world out.”

“But you didn’t.”

She shook her head. “No.”

Harry exhaled, like something in his chest had been unknotted.

“Then stay,” he said.

She stilled. “What?”

“I don’t mean just today.” His eyes locked with hers. “I mean… stay. With me.”

Her heart was thudding now — a steady, pounding rhythm in her ribs.

“I’ll go back to Tuscany,” he said. “We can lie low if we have to. Or stay in Milan, if you want that. You don’t have to give anything up that you’re not ready to. But if you are… if you’re willing…”

She leaned in, pressing her forehead to his. Their noses brushed. Their breaths synced.

“I’d leave it all behind,” she whispered. “I’d walk away from everything if it meant I could wake up like this everyday.”

Harry closed his eyes, pulling her closer.

“Then let’s not waste another fucking second.”

She laughed — breathless and warm and a little teary.

“Okay.”

And just like that, without fanfare or declarations, something between them clicked into permanence.

Not a fairytale.

But a beginning.

Let me know what you think

[eyes-onthehorizon]

hey loves, I’ve been reading through the comments and loads of people are asking how to not fall into this pattern because that’s all they know. so, here’s some advice from Auntie Pan who’s been in the trenches (stress-caused disabilities and chronic illnesses).

context: grew up in an abusive, controlling home, escaped to uni, had a prolonged mental breakdown, became a teacher and worked in a dysfunctional school with amazing kids and nightmare management for years. I did not realise I have adhd and autism for a long time. (You might even be able to scroll back through this blog to find the time around which I did realise lol.)

ANYWAY, things that have helped me because my body can no longer handle any kind of stress without flaring up:

If you’re doing anything that requires you to do a lot of prep before you begin the actual thing (e.g. cooking, deep cleaning a room, moving house), mise en place. That’s a fancy french way of saying get everything ready before you begin. So if I’m cooking idk spaghetti carbonara, that means fry and chop the bacon, separate the egg yolks from the whites, put water in the kettle, put dry spaghetti into a pan. Once everything’s ready, it reduces the mental load and means I can focus on the actual cooking and any clean up that I can do along the way. H/t to @ms-demeanor for this, you changed my life!

the Might As Well rule. This one works really well for me but you gotta be careful otherwise you’ll get sucked into the Vortex. Basically, let’s imagine you’re in the bathroom, brushing your teeth. You notice that the extra roll of toilet paper has been used. instead of thinking, “I’ll get to that later”, and then forgetting about it until you sit down on the bog (no judgement, we’ve all been there), you think “Might As Well put an extra roll while I’m here!” This tends to help with the little tasks that build up over time. This Does Not Work for big tasks.

Leading on from no.2, Do It Immediately/ASAP really helps me too. My current boss will email me on a Friday and say, ‘don’t reply to this now! Leave it til monday!’ But she and i both know that if i leave it til monday, I will forget and get stressed and this will make me Very Ill. So, instead, the moment i receive the email, I’ll either schedule in replying to it as soon as I’m done with my current thing, OR I’ll reply to it immediately.

Anything that can’t be actioned immediately, i mark as Unread. Anything Unread in my inbox is a future action, and i check those Unread emails/texts/whatevers Every. Day. To make sure whether today is the day i have the info to action it. (This also means i have to stay on top of my inbox. I read all my emails and then mark them accordingly. I’m also brutal with unsubscribing)

The House Always Wins. Both in a literal sense, because i am in a constant battle with keeping my house clean, and i know now that I’ll never get it as clean as i want it. It’s impossible, i no longer have the energy or stamina to vacuum and scrub everything. But also just in a life sense. I’m never going to achieve things to perfection, and perfect is the opposite of done. And getting things done is that much more important when you have limited energy and strength. Accept that you often have to half-arse life in order to Full-Arse the few things that really matter to you.

Have multiples of everything, everywhere. I wear support gloves, so i need to have handcream at every sink and everywhere i sit down in the house. I try to keep it unobtrusive, but it means i don’t have to trek upstairs just to moisturise my hands. Gum, phone chargers, pens and pencils, water bottles, hand sanitizer, whatever you need.

Work with people, even if it’s online. Body doubling actually works. Also I’ve found that if I’m working on assignments, taking myself to a library or study area that isn’t my bedroom helps so much.

Show off! Tell people on here or elsewhere in your life about the fact that you’ve just written 100 words! Or that you’ve cleaned the fridge and that’s a really big deal for you. Celebrate your wins, no matter how small.

Basically, you’re aiming to reduce the mental load as much as possible. Wear the same types of clothes all the time to minimise the amount of laundry. Eat the same three lunches so decision fatigue doesn’t take over.

All of this takes time to implement and it is cumulative, but i hope it helps. Reading the comments on this post, i finally understand why adhd is comorbid with so many other conditions. let’s take care of each other <3

There's a bunch of adhd advice out there that's like "people with adhd tend to work better under deadlines due to the anxiety so here are ways to artificially induce a stress response in order to get you to get work done" and it's like well what if I don't want to be stressed out all the time in order to function

[lucydixon]

Monopoly Meltdown

Masterlist 𐴱 Taglist 𐴱 Reading List 𐴱 Navigation A/N: One of y'all requested basically the opposite of Hangover hero, and this is what I came up with. Side note, I found the tortoise ouija planchette pic on Pinterest and immediately thought of the Campbell siblings doing something like that 😭

Summary: You Drop Erik off at family game night with Bobby and Julia and return to find him shit faced and being a menace.

Warning: Very brief mention of puke

The drunk texts started a little after nine.

Jumbled, mispelled words that only vaguely made sense. 

Something about Bobby cheating at Monopoly. 

You’d dropped Erik off for the biweekly Campbell sibling game night a few hours before with a case of beer and the promise to pick him up when they were finished. 

Clearly, he’d slammed a good few back in a short amount of time. 

You chuckled every time your phone chimed, amused by the play-by-play you were getting on every game. 

Eventually, you got a clearly worded, obviously typed by Julia or Bobby, ‘come get me please’, and drove back over to pick him up. 

“Oh, thank god.” Julia sighed tiredly when you knocked on the door. “He’s driving me nuts!” 

“What’s he doing?” You raised a brow, brushing past her to find your drunken partner. 

“See for yourself,” she gestured towards the living room and disappeared up the stairs. 

After venturing further into the house, you found Erik and Bobby wrestling on the ground. The coffee table was on its side, and there was monopoly money everywhere. 

“Just admit you cheated!” Erik grunted, struggling to hold his own in his drunken state. 

“I didn’t!” Bobby insisted, putting him in a headlock while he flailed. “Stop trying to fight me!” 

You couldn’t stop yourself from laughing. 

Bobby had bulked up a bit playing football last season, and Erik seemed to have forgotten that when he’d picked a fight. 

“What are you two doing?” You made your presence known before one of them got hurt. 

Your name fell from both of their lips. From Bobby, a sigh of relief, while Erik shouted it excitedly. 

“Bobby cheated at Monopoly.” He peeled himself off the ground and shot his younger brother a glare. 

“I did not!” Bobby rolled out of the way and huffed. 

“Ok,” You grabbed Erik by the hand before he decided to keep the argument going and tugged him towards the door. “C’mon, baby. We’re going home.” 

“Okay,” he sighed dramatically. 

“Bye, love you.” The eldest Campbell sibling nodded to his brother despite having been in a fight just a minute before. 

“Love you too.” Bobby mumbled, crossing his arms over his chest like a child. 

It never failed to warm your heart how close they were. 

“Don’t worry, Sweets” He staggered along behind you, “I’ve got plenty of love left for you.” 

You chuckled, pulling him out into the night air. 

“Thank god.” You feigned relief. 

To your surprise, you managed to get Eric into the car without issue, but in the time it had taken you to get into the driver’s seat, he was already squinting at his phone, trying to pick a playlist.  

“I can’t read this shit.” He grumbled, trying desperately to make out the words on the glowing screen to no avail. 

“Give it here.” You held your hand out for it. “Let me do it. Which playlist do you want?

“The ‘I just drank seven beers and now my super hot girlfriend is driving me home’ one.” He slurred. “You’re so pretty.” 

“Seriously,” you rolled your eyes and started scrolling through his playlists, “Which one-” 

You paused when your thumb was hovering above that exact title. 

“You fucker!” You exclaimed, laughing loudly, “You planned this, didn’t you?”

“Like a few hours ago,” He couldn’t help but laugh too. “On beer number four.” 

“Thought I was gonna tap out at five, but I had to live up to the playlist!” 

“Oh my god,” you chuckled, turning the key in the engine. “You do realize that you could’ve just re-named the playlist, right?” 

It became abundantly clear based on the look on his face that he hadn’t considered that option. 

You blinked at one another for a few seconds, just long enough for the beginning of Motley Crue’s ‘Looks That Kill’ to start blaring through the speakers 

Neither of you could contain your laughter. 

It took a full minute before you were ready to pull out of the Campbell house driveway, then another fifteen to pull into your apartment complex. 

Erik trudged up the stairs, looking increasingly queasy with each step. 

You could tell as you were nearing your floor that he was going to puke, and you jogged ahead to get the door unlocked in hopes that the extra thirty seconds would increase the odds of it happening anywhere but the floor in the entryway. 

“Bathroom.” You nudged him in the right direction and locked the door behind you once you’d both made it inside. “Or sink if you can’t make it!” 

You followed him and poked your head into the bathroom down the hall, relieved to find that he’d made it. You grabbed a glass of water and a washcloth before setting them both on the bathroom counter, joining him on the cool tile floor. 

“You okay?” You rubbed his back gently when he was finished. 

“Yeah.” He rested his forehead on his arm. “Feels better actually.” 

“I bet.” You chuckled sympathetically, pulling yourself to your feet so you could run the washcloth under cold water. “My poor baby.” 

You gently rested the cool washcloth on the back of his neck, and Erik sighed in relief. 

“Think you’re done?” You asked softly, pressing the glass of water into his free hand. “Take little sips.” 

“Thanks, Sweets.” He muttered tiredly, raising his head just enough to sip the water. 

“Let's just get you up and into bed.” You kissed the back of his shoulder, nudging him gently to his feet. “Want me to brush your teeth for you?” 

“I can brush my own teeth.” Erik poked your cheek once he was up. “I’m not nearly as drunk as you were last time, missy.” 

“You’re never gonna let me forget that, are you?” you pouted softly, reaching for your own tooth brush 

“Not a chance.” He scoffed. 

As you were getting ready for bed, Erik watched you get changed, draped over the mattress, in just his boxers, feeling much better, but exhausted.

“That thong,” Erik trailed off, eyes sweeping up to your raised brow, “... Really brings out your eyes.” 

You laughed. 

The kind of laugh where you throw your head back and let it wash over you like an early morning tide. It was his favourite sound in the world. 

“Just come to bed like that!” Erik waved you over, or, to be more accurate, he tried to.

His arms felt like lead weights. 

You made a soft huffing sound, but the corners of your lips were quirked upwards as you crawled into bed with him anyway, dressed in only your thong, and slipped under the covers. 

Erik clumsily joined you and pulled you into his chest. 

“Thanks for coming to pick me up,” he muttered into the top of your head, “And taking care of me.” 

“Course.” You smiled, pressing your lips to his bare chest. “I love you.” 

“I love you too, Sweets.”

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

Taglist: @thewinterhunter @dogey290 @zroberts13

[raininyourblackeyes]

Today marks 30 years since the beginning of Srebrenica genocide when from 11th July 1995 until the end of the month 8372 men and boys were brutally murdered, buried, unburied, moved, buried again and moved to the tertiary mass graves by the Serb nationalists after the UN soldiers let them walk in into the "safe zone" they were "protecting" full of refugees. Around 15000 men didn't want to wait to be executed embarking on a 100km long ourney through the forests to get to the nearest unocupied area. 8372 were slaughtered.

Today 7 victims will be buried, one of the victims will have only 2 jaw bones laid down in the ground because those 2 bones are the only bones that have been found. Many mothers, sisters, daughters, are still searching, hoping for even one bone to be found.

As some perpetrators rot away in prison serving life sentences, and Srebrenica remains the worst wound in post-WW2 history, as genocide denial keeps coming from certains politicians both in Bosnia and Serbia and denial is a participation in that genocide, and as UN keeps apologizing every year for their failure to protect the people, as thousands survivors, children of the murdered, and people from all around the world gather every year to take a walk through those very forests, walking those same paths to honor the victims on a Peace march, and thousands gather on 11th July in Potočari to honor the victims, I can't help but think how in 30 years the reality of mothers of Srebrenica will also be the reality of people of Gaza.

So please, read about what happened in Srebrenica (it has to be undrestood in the broader context of Bosnian genocide) and try to help in any way you can to the people of Gaza today. The youngest victim in Srebrenica was just a few hours old. We have been watching the same events unfold in Gaza for too long now. Srebrenica massacre wasn't silent either, Europe just didn't want to hear it.

Here is the web page of the Memorial Center where you can read about the timeline of the events in July 1995, about the aftermath, investigations and the trials of the perpetrators.

United Nations also have a page dedicated which is almost a joke considering they abandoned those people... where you can find some useful videos and a very comprehensive timeline of the events with videos from July 1995 and from the trials in Hague.

Another useful website where I recomend reading survivors' stories

Some documentaries are available on youtube, please watch at least the first one: 1 2 3

Last year UN finally adopted a Resultion on Srebrenica Genocide. On the table before, it did not pass because of Russia's veto. Controversial president of Serbia who is fighting tooth and nail to supress students and the whole country really rising against him (as they should) argued and keeps telling his people that the text is calling out their entire nation as being genocidal. It is not. It is directed at those who did commit genocide, but the denial of the text and offense of people in Serbia starting with their politicians can be read as a denial and therefore participation in the genocide. I hope the students protesting the regime, young people like me, are willing to move forward in peace understanding that no one is blaming them for anything but that it is their burden to learn and it is their burden to break out of the spiral of evil and crime of the regime.

Here is what NY Times wrote today, 30 years later.

Finally, every year Srebrenica Inferno is performed at Potočari. Even if the text is in Bosnian language I believe the chilling pain will still reach you. Here is a performance from 2023

Once again, I hope everyone can find a way to think and help the people of Gaza because this will be their reality in 30 years. It is their reality now. It's fascinating that we, meaning human species, haven't yet learned that you can't make a nation on the backs and suffering of another. You can't build a happy future with the blood of thousands.

[sleepymothafterhours]

Don’t let me rot away

I'd say this is self indulgent but all my fics are. M.List

Date everything! fandom this is my humble application to be your new fave author PSPSPSPSPSPSPSPSPSPSPSPS

Word count: 1,846 about a 7 minute read <3

Pairing: Eddie & Volt x Reader,

content warnings: description of panic attack, pain stimming, thought spiraling, depression descriptions, hurt/comfort kinda?

Fic summary: you (the player) pick up a job to help pay your bills after being in labor limbo and wind up spiraling into burnout. Eddie and Volt piece you back together <3

“God they look exhausted.” Eddie mumbles as he watches them from across the bar.

You’d made your nightly visit, settling in the back as opposed to your usual table, you’d taken up a remote job to cover your rent after being put in “labor limbo”. For a second you pause, eyes kind of glazed over like you hadn’t slept in days.

It was fine, there was a small promotion and you worked so many hours the money covered what you needed and then some. And of course. You didn’t have to leave the house for anything. Worry tugged at your brow, teeth digging into your bottom lip as you worked. 

“Darling I think we just need to be happy they got out of bed today.” Volt says, unable to help hearing as he passes the bar. Eddie slides him a glass of water gesturing for him to take it out to you. 

He does, setting it down without much more than a word, as unusual as it was for him, he did a lap, and when he came back you hadn’t touched the glass. He sits. You hadn’t noticed continuing to type out your report. 

“Live wire. Drink up.” He says pushing the glass toward you, you glance up and it strikes him just how exhausted you really are. Coupled with the obvious tear stains on your cheeks that he didn’t know how he missed when he let you in..except he didn’t let you in, you’d snuck your way in with the crowd and found a table in the back corner and..oh, now things made sense.

“Thank you V, but I can’t drink when I’m working. I could fuck something up.” You say not even glancing up to look at the glass let alone him. His brow furrows at this but he doesn’t relent.

“You’re always working these days little wire. Drink.” This time he lifts the glass placing it in your hands, his tone doesn’t leave you room to argue. You drink. The water brings immediate relief, the brain fog you’d been experiencing dissipating for a few moments. Only satisfied when you finish the glass Volt gets up and leaves for another lap bringing you another glass before he has to announce the next act.

It takes five minutes before you feel it again. That sadness that tugs at your chest. And the throb of pain. You fell hours ago and your back and arm was in pain from the weight of what had fallen on you and the impact of hitting the floor. Not to mention that tugging feeling that nothing matters, that everything you do is pointless, that you yourself aren’t worth anything. Your friends had bailed on you, you were supposed to facetime sometime tonight but that didn’t work out. 

Doug almost scares you out of your chair. How long have you been staring at your computer? Spouting some existential bullshit. You wouldn't know really anything, you've been trying to avoid him for this exact purpose.

You ignore him. You usually did but sometimes he was just so much you couldn’t handle his constant barrage of insults. 

You threw the dateviators off your face, finding yourself very quickly in reality stumbling over the toolbox and half falling out of the door. Apologizing to your computer, unsure if Mac was even part of that, and then to Tony who seemed to rattle with concern that carried through even out here. It seemed like you blinked and found yourself in your bed. Only then did you put the glasses back on. 

“What's goin’ on sugar?” a syrupy sweet voice asks running hands gently through your hair. 

Who the fuck- oh its Betty. 

Nothing matters. You think to yourself, suddenly feeling like your room is crashing down on top of you. All I do is sit in my house, I can't leave. I can hardly stand to eat. I’m rotting Betty. And there is nothing I can do about it and Doug is so. Mean. he's such a dick and i- You pause to breathe wiping the tears furiously from your face “I’m fine.” 

“No you’re not. You’re burnt out spark.” you jump at the sound of another voice in your bedroom, when the hell did Eddie get there. And when did you start crying?

And why can’t you stop? 

The bed dips as Eddie climbs in to scoop you up, Volt following behind him. Betty stops him for just a second with a concerned look on her face. “They’ll be alright. Just need to be in pieces for a moment. We’ve got 'em.” Volt says gathering your water bottle and a change of clothes, your laptop stays discarded on the bed still open to the document you’d been working on. You look at it for a second with despair, the very thought making you cry harder.

Eddie's grip on you seems to tighten as he carries you back to the club and up the stairs to the loft, he sets you on the bed, there's a window that shows somewhere else in the house and you watch Volt close the curtain and dim the lights. You think you're still crying but you feel like you're just watching your body while you sit there. Your body tries curling into itself but before you can do that Eddie's pulling you back up and grabbing the change of clothes from the desk. You manage to pull the hem of your shirt up before he stops you.

"Just let us take care of you okay?" He says wiping the tears from your eyes, tucking a stray hair behind your ear. He's so gentle it hurts. Once you're comfortable you wind up back on the bed in Eddie's lap this time, legs loosely around his waist and arms mostly useless by your side, you feel kind of like one of those marionettes, the way they sit limply when they aren't being pulled a million ways at once. Volts nails scratch gently over the fabric of your shirt and for once the quiet doesn't feel like its chasing you, like its out to get you, like you may drown in it. Now the quiet is just there.

It takes more time than you want to admit for your body to feel like your own again and in any other circumstance you may have apologized for making them take care of you, you might later, and you knew they'd shush your apologies the same way they shushed your sobs. Gentle, understanding, patient.

You take in a deep shaky breath before you ask, "Can I have my water?" Your voice sounds hoarse and they realize just how little you’d actually been talking lately. Sure you worked, but it was remote and you didn’t do the phone calls, you still went around helping objects around the house but you mostly listened and nodded, and while yes you still came to see the boys every night but you didn’t really speak, you’d listen and nod your thanks when Eddie gave you a drink, or tuck yourself into Volt’s side after a show shortly before making your leave to head to bed.

Your bed which you really couldn’t say if you’d actually been getting full nights of rest in. For fucks sake how’d you loop back to this.

Your right hand moves on its own accord pulling at the skin of your left wrist, a nervous habit you thought you’d broken as a teenager. You fight Eddies hands as they pull yours apart.

“Spark.” His voice is even but you catch the worry laced inside it, “Honey. Stop. You gotta breathe.”

“I’m trying it’s not working!” You sob, face buried in Eddies shirt and though it’s harder to breath through your nose it brings you comfort, he rocks you side to side ever so slightly the way he’s seen you do at the bar when the noise starts getting to you.

Volts hands run up and down your spine and as your breathing evens out he lets them wander up through your hair and your neck, where he touches the tension you feel seems to slowly fade and you’re breaths come easier with each movement.

There’s a long beat of silence interrupted only by small sniffles, after a while when you’ve calmed down enough the rocking stops and your hands hold onto Eddie like a lifeline, clasped on the back of his neck, your hairs a mess from Volt messing with it, attempting a braid only for it to fall out. He chuckles sometimes and you assume it’s from the way your hair seems to rise to meet his hands sometimes similar to the way it would after rubbing a balloon on your head.

“I need to shower,” you sigh, voice muffled in Eddies chest.

“You showered this morning” Volt says without a moment to think about it. You look at him confused, “You do a little wave when you pass us in the morning spark even without the stupid glasses on.”

You’re glad that he can’t see your face. He pushes your shoulder playfully at your silence. “Don’t be embarrassed live wire. It’s cute.” His hands continue to “braid” (he’s more twirling than anything).

Volt pulls at you so you lean back against his chest effectively pulling Eddie too. The pressure of being in between them feels like the last piece of you clicking back into place and you let out a breath you felt like you’d been holding for days. “Thank you.” You say, craning your neck to place a soft kiss on Volts jaw and then on Eddies forehead.

“Silly human. You know we’d do anything to help.” You’re not sure which of them says it. You’re pretty sure it’s Volt, mostly because Eddie had almost immediately fallen asleep. It took maneuvering but eventually you curled up against the two and fell asleep as well feeling better than you had in ages.

When you woke you were tucked safely in your own bed, Skylar was on the nightstand fully charged and the sun hadn’t quite risen in the sky just yet. There’s a note scrawled on a napkin by your table and another right next to it.

If you ever feel that way again. We’re just a call away.

Love,

E & V

You unfolded the other napkin and inside lay a bracelet braided out of wire. A bead shaped like lightning sat comfortably in the middle of your wrist. It glowed a faint blue. You pressed it ever so slightly and a faint tingle ran through your hand. Just slightly. You felt like pressure in your palm like how you would feel if you were holding someone’s hand. You grinned.

“Aweeee..love..” Skylar beamed from the night stand as you picked up the glasses and put them on your face.

“Good morning Skylar.” You said with a chuckle.

“Good morning User! Are you feeling better today?” You smile at her and nod and for a moment she ogles your bracelet and before you can say anything about her always referring to you as User she disappears.

PSPSPSPSPSPSPSPS my inbox is open, requests are on bby please TALK TO ME I BEG

as always likes, reblogs, and comments are very appreciated but please don't cross post, this will get put up on my ao3 (under the same name) tommorow when i get off work

okay goodnight mwah!!! <3

[chongoblog]

So this isn't a very good domino meme, because there are only a couple dominos in between the two.

minor cw for slur usage (it's censored, but like...it's clear what it is)

Miyamoto exploring caves inspired him to make the Zelda series, as many know. This would lead to the creation of the Triforce.

So now for something completely different. Alt codes. In case anyone reading this doesn't know, back in the day before emojis, there was still a way to type weird ASCII characters on American English keyboards. Stuff like ê or ♫ or ╬ or ♂ or ♠. And that was via alt codes. You would simply hold the alt key and then, if your keyboard had a numpad, you would put in the code. So Alt-12 would get you ♀, Alt-127 would get you ⌂, Alt-30 would get you ▲, etc. Here's a full list of Alt Codes, if you're curious.

So now we talk about 4chan.

To my knowledge, 4chan isn't really much of a thing anymore like it was back in the late oughts and arguably early '10s (at least that's when I was on there, despite the fact I absolutely should not have been). but like I said in the notes, being called a slur on /b/ wasn't very notable. They used slurs as a common suffix. The one being referenced in this domino meme is describing people who were new to the website, also knows as "newf*gs".

So how do all 3 of these things come together?

Well, 4chan posts are specifically formatted where on every line, any unnecessary white space was removed. So if you hit the space bar a few times at the start of your line for some reason, 4chan would automatically remove them. However, if you typed Alt+255, you would get a non-breaking space, which, for the sake of this story, has some Interesting Properties. It bypasses this white space limitation, but also if it's copied and pasted, it turns back into a normal space.

This led to triforcing. If you type [Alt-255] [Alt-255] [Alt-30] [Enter] [Alt-30] [Alt-255] [Alt-30] (This is from memory, so the number of spaces might be off), you would get a Triforce

Now, let's say you've gone on 4chan for the first time and you don't know all of the stuff I just said, and you want to Triforce. So your first instinct is to copy and paste the triforce. So then you post it and-

This became a meme in and of itself, and led to the mantra of "newf*gs can't triforce". I was looking around for examples of this meme in use, and I found this reddit post, which really really tickled me.

Anyway, that's your internet history lesson for today.

[yoonmetogether]

chapter 3. hell to pay

pairing: bodyguard!yoongi x ceo!fem reader - brother/mob boss!jeongguk, past jimin x reader genre: mafia, e2l, sloooooooooooooooow burn, age gap rating: 18+ only. minors dni!!! warnings/tags: angst, alcohol, smoking, guns, incident of sexual assault (not to reader), nose bleed, panic attack, vomiting (due to anxiety, which is also why reader doesn't eat that much), reader being a badass, speed racing, bam cameo, breaking bad cameo LMAO, ateez crossover, reader and her attitude towards d, if i missed anything pls let me know!!! wc: 12.7k notes: once again aqua @glossdebut rocked my world with this banner !!! 🤌 thanks a ton to aqua, @moochii-daisies and @syllviere for working out some scene ideas when i got stuck. and a million times thanks to aqua and moochi for beta-reading. Yall mean the world to me 🫶🫶🫶 also, there’s a song title, reference to a kdrama, and a quote from a movie in this chapter, and if anyone catches them and tells me i’ll put together something special. i have no idea what but i’ll figure it out lol

masterlist

13:01 Megatron🤖: You’re really not coming to the gym today? 13:01 Megatron🤖: Third week in a row, sis I’m starting to think you were bluffing about beating my ass 13:05 You: Not bluffing 13:05 You: I’ll roundhouse you when I’m not so busy 13:06 Megatron🤖: Sad excuse 13:06 You:🖕 13:08 Megatron🤖: I’m busy too so this is the only time we really have to hang out 13:08 You: Who are you and what have you done with my brother 13:08 You: He once paid me to stay home so I wouldn’t tag along to a party 13:09 Megatron🤖: You were lame back then 13:09 Megatron🤖: You’re cool now

Rolling your eyes, you sigh and look out the window, the trees lining the highway blurring past darkened by the tint, so you can’t really see them at all.

You’ll go back to the gym when you can trust yourself to not potentially lose your shit if your brother makes you go back in the ring with D. You’ve barely spoken to him since that conversation outside of the gym, before you found the money he stashed in your gym duffle. Your pride howls for you to return it to him, but you fear if you open your mouth, an irate tirade will unleash that you don’t have energy for.

You’d love nothing more than to spend the little free time you have with your brother, as opposed to what you’ve been doing to avoid going back to that big house where you feel like you don’t belong - just staying later at work.

Jay is away for the week, on some random trip to do busy work for his father, leaving you to be in the house by yourself. Since he’s not there, neither is his butler, and the maids are always done before you get home.

The first night, you played the piano gathering dust in the living room, because you don’t have the heart to unpack your keyboard. The haunting yet peaceful melodies echoed in the emptiness, and you recorded a few songs for Jeongguk. You sent the clips to Jin too, even though he won’t get them.

Hours and hours you spent at the keys when you should’ve been sleeping, eating, preparing for the next day, but the pieces you played kept intact the withering strings of your sanity because with music you can lose yourself in the person that is truly… you.

Everything is starting to wear down on you - the amount of tedious shit your future FIL piles on your desk every day. Your workload increases and so do your hours in the office. You come earlier and leave later. It’s like he’s testing your limit, how much you can handle before you fall short, show your weaknesses.

He got on your ass for doodling some design ideas during a meeting when he was non-stop yapping and kissing rich board member ass. A piece of your soul collapsed. You dumped your sketchbook in the trash outside of the board room and went about your night, conscience steaming because the glimmer of light that your creativity brings you just died. Towards the end of the night, when you returned to your office, feet aching and stomach empty, your sketchbook was waiting on your desk. Namjoon must’ve fished it out of the bin for you. When you thanked him, he just looked down, smiled, and said that your designs don’t belong in the trash.

Because D continues to be unsuccessful in finding your assistant, Namjoon, the godsend brainiac he is, helps you stay organized by sending reminders of your schedule - deadlines for budget and inventory reports, in addition to introductory meetings with various board members, vendors, and managers of the casino restaurant and hotel staff.

It’s a fucking performance you put on to convince these people that you know what you’re doing - they must think you’re only in this position because your rich mafia daddy arranged everything for you. 

Which - you hate to say it - is true. Have you run a casino before? No, but you’re at the very least qualified. After all, you have a masters in business with experience managing a few startups prior to accepting the project for the architecture firm with your friends. You were going to manage that too because of their trust in your leadership skills.

A far cry from a casino as colossal as this one, which is why the faith in yourself has started to dwindle.

You’re losing track of it all. You’re losing sleep, your appetite. You’re losing your goddamn mind.

You’ve started picking at your cuticles again. Those stress headaches you got during exams and thesis season in college are coming back. But times a thousand.

Are you really up for this?

You make your safe haven in your shitty office - setting up your desk with your PC and post-it notes and paper spreadsheets for inventories and budgets, but until you’re given the green light to tear up and replace the carpet and old paneling, you won’t bother to decorate. The ancient smell permeating the stale air makes your nose wrinkle but there’s not much you can do about that either.

When you get time to work away from all the chaos on the floor, D stays out in the hall, giving you the chance to breathe without that prickly feeling beneath your skin that comes from knowing he’s right fucking behind you. Breathing down your neck more than Jay’s father. Well, in a less micromanaging way, but still.

On several occasions, you’ve debated sneaking out, knowing that when D has to make his rounds - checking on the security team, the cameras, the counters, etc. - he places another guard to stand by outside of your office. You’re certain with a small bribe you could get past him - Key, you think is his name - and just get a little taste of time away from your shadow before he comes back to haunt you again.

The one time you made an attempt and poked your head into the hall, D suddenly appeared around the corner from the elevator, and you shut the door before he had a chance to see you. Will you ever get the opportunity to slip out from under his nose?

Your phone vibrates in your lap, breaking you away from your small fantasy, and you flip it over, anticipating it to be Jeongguk calling to further convince you to throw rounds, but much to your disappointment, the contact of Jay’s father flashes on your screen. Your blood pressure spikes in anxiety, and a pulse of pain radiates through your temples.

“Hello?” You answer politely, just to be responded to with his gruff tone.

“I’m not in until later, so I want you to take care of firing a girl who assaulted a customer last night.”

“Oh.” Is that really in your job description? You suppose if you’re acting manager, not just CEO in training, it technically is. “What happened?”

“She threw a drink on him when he was just trying to tip her. She’s waiting outside of your office for whenever you show up.”

Your eyes roll again, with more annoyance. So he’s allowed to be late? “I’m almost there.”

“I’ll call in an hour to check. Get it done. And see to it that she gets her locker cleaned out and her uniform and badge returned.”

“Yes, sir.”

Phone dropping back in your lap once the call ends, you smother your face in your hands, a scream trapped on the edge of your throat that’s clawing your tongue to be released. You had a thousand things to do today and now you have to fire someone. You have half a mind to hijack the car, force D out of it, and drive far far away from the casino, but you can only imagine the earful you’d get from Jeongguk. He’s fucking besties with your arch nemesis.

So, massaging your temples, you press on. Because you can’t leave your brother behind.

13:24 Megatron🤖: I’m taking that as a no 13:25 You: I have a lot of shit to do today 13:27 You: Sorry

He leaves you on read.

A short, pretty young woman stands by your office, hugging herself, eyes red and swollen, and upon seeing you approach, straightens her posture and bows.

“Hi,” you greet gently, twisting your key in the lock and opening the door. “Come on in.”

She follows you quietly, standing in the space between the door and your desk, looking around as you set your bags down next to your chair.

“I know it’s kind of bleary in here, I haven’t had the time to spruce it up. And that stink has been here probably as long as this building. I can’t get rid of it.”

She gives you a weak smile at your attempt to ease the atmosphere.

“Please, have a seat,” you offer, gesturing to the chairs across from you. “Do you want water or anything?”

“No, thank you, ma’am,” she replies as she sits in a position that doesn’t look comfortable. You internally sigh at her formal language. She can’t be that much younger than you. 

“What’s your name?”

“Choi Byeol, ma’am.”

“Nice to meet you,” you smile cordially. “So, tell me what happened.”

“Please don’t fire me,” she sniffles in a small voice, face crumpling. Looking at her, you doubt she could hurt a fly.

“Just- I want to hear your side.”

“Okay, um-” she sniffs again and you pass her a box of tissues. “Thanks,” she says as she plucks out a sheet, wiping her nose.

“No problem. Take your time.”

“Well, this guy is a regular and he’s always been kind of… creepy with me and the other servers, but just with weird comments and a lot of staring. Then last night,” she swallows, voice thinning. “I served him his drinks and he tried to put cash in the hem of my skirt and when I told him we don’t take tips like that, he grabbed my as- my butt when I started walking away. So- So I threw the drink I had on my tray in his face.”

You nod, processing the fact that Jay’s father wants you to fire this girl for defending herself when she was physically harassed and assaulted. Taking notes, you ask her for more details - the time, exact location, other employees around who could corroborate. It won’t be necessary if you can get the security cam footage, but it’s better to cover all angles just in case.

“I know it was wrong to throw the drink, but is that really enough to get fired for?” she asks as you finish jotting down notes.

“In my book, no.” Byeol shifts in her seat, sitting straighter, eyes relaxing. Shit, you shouldn’t build up any hope. “But I’m afraid that’s not up to me.”

Her shoulders slouch, eyebrows crossing. “What do you mean?”

“This decision isn’t mine.”

“Then why are you the one doing it?”

“I’m being tested,” you sigh. “I’m sorry, I know it’s messed up.”

Her head hangs, fingers pressing together more tightly in her lap, and you frown when you catch her lip wobble.

“I’m in school. My parents-” she sniffs. “They can’t pay for my tuition, and this is the only job that fits with my class schedule.”

You consider telling her that Namjoon is a lawyer and technically she has grounds to go after you and Jay’s father for wrongful termination. Knowing Namjoon, he would put up one hell of a fight but… You’re already on thin ice with Jay’s father and that would not bode well for you nor him.

“Here, send over your résumé,” you say, scrawling Namjoon’s work email on a post-it and passing it to her. “I have a friend who has a lot of connections, and he might be able to help you find another job.”

She hesitates, her frown struggling to turn into a smile as she accepts it. Feeling defeated and helpless, you flump back in your chair.

“I wish there was more I could do.”

She looks up at that, her eyes dry but swollen as her mouth contorts in a half-smile, half-frown.

“I’m sorry for the trouble I caused.”

“Well, I’m sorry he assaulted you and that you’re taking the fall for it. He deserves a lot more than a drink in his face. I’ll make sure that he never comes back.”

Upset still laced in her features, a fuller smile appears as she stands and tips her head towards you.

“Thank you, ma’am.”

You contemplate letting D be the one to accompany her to the locker cleanout so you can hide in your office, avoiding the employees who’ll look at you like it’s your fault this girl is getting fired. Maybe that’s why Jay’s father put you up to this.

But you can’t be someone who hides. (And you don’t want to be someone who sends a girl who was just assaulted by a strange man to be followed and escorted out of the building by another strange man.)

“I’ll come with you to collect your uniform and badge so you don’t have to come back up here. And I’ll get your last paycheck processed tonight so you’ll get it in the mail by next week.”

Gesturing, for her to step out into the hall ahead of you, you catch her polite smile fall as she passes by. Guilt consumes you at the anxiety and frustration you just laid on her shoulders, and you doubt she’d appreciate small talk as you take the elevator down to the first floor. So you bear the awkward silence next to her with D in the corner and finish off your text to him.

14:30 You: Get the CCTV footage for last night around midnight where the blackjack tables are and send it to me seen 14:35

Namjoon catches you on your way back from all the glaring eyes and hushed comments that tickled the hair on the back of your neck as you walked Byeol to her locker and waited outside while she collected her things. Your fingers itch for a cigarette, needing to cope with the fact that now the employees think you’re on the same power trip as the owner. The job just became a lot harder.

“Hey, Angel,” Namjoon greets, sleeves rolled up as he walks alongside you, tablet tucked in his elbow.

“Oh, hey. The boss isn’t coming in until later.”

“What do you mean? You’re right here.” Playfully scoffing, you bump shoulders with him and he grins.

“Don’t let him hear you say that.”

“He’s gotta get used to the fact that you’re gonna run everything around here one day.”

You smile even though your gut wrenches. All of this really will be left up to you. You’re the one who has to get used to that.

Thankfully, you have a little bit of a break until Jay’s father arrives, so you both seclude in your office. As you sit at your desk and open up your laptop, he sits across from you and flips the cover on his tablet, clicking to the calendar app so he can check your schedule. With his exposed forearms down, you’re able to see the tattoo in the crook of his elbow: a birds’ eye view of a crow flying with its full wingspan - The symbol for Crow soldiers. It’s been a long time since you’ve seen one of those.

“So, how’s it going with you? Everything good?”

“Ah, no,” you frown, drumming your fingers on the mousepad. “He just made me fire a waitress.”

“What?” he asks, bewildered.

“Yeah, it’s complete bullshit,” you mutter. “This perv customer assaulted her, and she could’ve done a lot worse than throw a drink in his face. I sure would’ve.”

“Damn.”

“I gave her your email so she can send her résumé, do you think you can look at it and see if there’s anyone hiring? Something with good pay and a flexible schedule, she’s in school.” “Sure. I’ll get back to you.”

“Thanks, you’re a lifesaver.” You feel like you owe your life to Namjoon at this point. You’ll make sure your brother doles out one hell of a bonus for him.

An incident on the floor draws you out of your office to check a patron’s allegations that a dealer was cheating. D clears out the security room save for the director of the tech team so you can analyze the footage yourself, but you can’t see any evidence that the dealer switched or flipped cards like the player claimed. Fuck, if he did though, you’d be in a load of shit. You’re relieved you don’t have to fire two people in one night.

In the elevator for what has to be the 80th time today, you’re back on your phone to email the pit boss that his dealer is in no trouble. Eyes sore from the blue light and ankles throbbing from your heels, you could really use a fucking drink.

“I sent the footage you asked for,” D’s gravelly voice drones from the opposite side of the metal cabin. “It was deleted but the tech team recovered it.”

Of course it was. Jay’s father is turning out to be an outstanding piece of shit. Opening up the video attachment, you watch as what Byeol told you plays out word-for-word, gripping the edge of your phone so hard, your fingertips hurt. Sharp pain in your temples pounding at full force, cheeks heating at the visual of this situation panning out, no one helping her or stepping in and you had to fucking fire her?

A spot of red plops on your screen.

“Shit,” you mutter, back of your hand pressing against the blood dripping from your nose.

“Here,” D says behind you, a white handkerchief appearing in your periphery.

You stare at it for a moment, because what’s he trying to do? Earn brownie points? You almost scoff and ignore his gesture but you don’t want to stain your blouse.

You pluck it from his fingers and press it to your nostril, tipping your head forward so you don’t swallow copper. 

The bleeding comes to a stop by the time you get back to your office, red splotches staining the silk and a miniscule part of you feels guilty but then you remember the kind of person who gave it to you.

Turning to face him and paying no mind to your heart stumbling when he’s already looking down at you, you hold out the borrowed handkerchief.

“You know how to get out blood, right?” Slowly, he reaches out to take it and you disappear into your office in case you don’t like his answer.

In the midst of an intensifying headache, Namjoon visits you again towards the end of the night, tissue in your nostril from the nosebleed that started up again around the time you were reading an email from Jay’s father of a highly detailed itinerary for the next day.

“Is your nose bleeding?” he asks, approaching your desk, concern in his narrowed eyes.

“Yeah, I think it’s just dry in here.”

“Are you okay? I can cover for you if you want to take the night off.”

“And give him fuel to call me incompetent? I’ll be good, Moon, thanks though.”

“Don’t hurt yourself for this job, Angel. It’s not worth it.”

“I have to prove myself to them.”

Namjoon’s frown says he’s less than content with your answer, so you look back to your laptop to communicate you’re done with that conversation.

“Well, I just came to tell you the good news, I think I found Choi Byeol a job.”

Namjoon truly wastes no time. That’s why he’s so treasured by your brothers. “Already?”

“Yeah! As your assistant.”

“What?” Dimples in his smile, he scrolls through his tablet, presumably through her résumé.

“She’s minoring in communications on top of her computer science degree and she used to work at a circulation desk at her school library. Her GPA is well above average, and she volunteers to tutor on the weekends. Overall, it looks like she has some really strong organizational and personable skills as well. What do you think?”

“I think I lucked out.”

“I’ll call her tomorrow to set up an interview with you and I already asked D to do a background check.” You shake your head.

“If she’s cleared with D, just hire her. Full-time, 60,000 won an hour, plus benefits. She’ll be on my payroll, not the casino’s or Sol’s. Just let her know that it’s demanding, but she can work on school stuff when there’s downtime.”

He smiles, scribbling notes with the stylus. “You got it, boss. And I’ll train her, so you don’t have to worry about that.”

Super big bonus.

He leaves after giving you a gentle reminder that you’re meeting with Captain tomorrow, having dinner with Jay’s parents Friday night, and embarking on your first round of collections on the weekend.

As if this job isn’t stressful enough.

Sparkling strobes of light dance around the dark lilac walls to the bass of suave, bumping music as you wait by the VIP entrance with D in his stance a step behind you. He just notified  a bouncer that you’ve arrived to meet Captain and your fingertips tap some anxiety against your clutch as you look out for the bouncer’s return.

Namjoon already briefed you on Captain - that he’s a chill guy for the most part, but gatekeeps his jewelry trading business and doesn’t appreciate people trying to take away his oversight. But your brother told you to show him who’s boss and your mind races with techniques to assert that without creating some kind of resentment.

The bouncer leads you up a flight of stairs to a private lounge and announces your arrival. As he steps aside, a guard with thick biceps and short black hair with parted bangs comes forward to pat you down but D moves in front of you, hand held out to push him back.

“How are we supposed to know she’s not carrying?” The guard asks, begrudgingly backing up.

“Because I’m carrying for her.” D opens his jacket to reveal his two holstered guns. Your toes curl in your heels.

“Just let her in, San,” a smooth male voice calls from inside. The guard dutifully steps away so you can enter the dim lounge, a soft gold hue surrounding the perimeter of the ceiling.

A man with dark blue hair poking out from a backwards beret looks over from where he’s sitting on a low couch mounted into the wall. He’s hunched over a small black table with a single, bright lamp at the top left corner, holding a long, thin pair of pliers with sharp ends that he uses to pick up tiny diamonds and inspect through a small, square magnifying glass.

The shine on the table is underwhelmed by the bling around his neck that drips down his slightly exposed chest. Hoops lining his ears, watch and studded bracelets decorating his wrists, gleaming rings on almost every finger. Yet he wears it in a way that’s not gaudy - excessive, but tasteful.

“Nice watchdog you got there,” Captain says as you approach, eyes flicking up and down in a quick once over of you. “I guess a gorgeous girl like you has to walk around with muscle like that.”

He rises to pull out a chair adjacent to him at the table, waiting for you to get comfortable.

“I think it has more to do with the fact that I’m your boss.” 

Crossing your legs, you place your clutch in your lap, giving him your full attention. “I’m my own boss, sweet thing,” he smiles with a subtle wink as he sits back down. Okay, so he’s not threatened. Yet.

“Then why are you going to report your dealings to me and also pay me to keep your protections in place?”

“It’ll be on my terms.”

“Right.”

Glancing around, you take in the walls covered in contemporary paintings portraying many different styles of art. More luxurious couches and lounge chairs line the perimeter, a classy bar tucked in the middle, the shelves behind it lined with hookah.

Your mouth suddenly feels dry, nerves begging to be soothed.

“Can a girl get a drink in here or what?”

“What’ll you have?”

“Whiskey sour.” That was Jin’s usual, the one he made on girls night and sometimes let you sneak a sip.

He snaps a finger in the air and a uniformed bartender steps out from a curtained hallway, nodding to Captain’s order and getting to work behind the bar.

“So what’s the beef between you and my brother?” you ask as you wait for your drink.

“There’s no beef.”

“He said you two don’t get along.”

“We just have different ideas of how to do things. He wants me to move my business closer to Seoul, but I have no interest in doing that.” He gestures between you with his pliers. “I assume that’s why he wants us to work together.”

“Ah.” Your brother’s headquarters are set up in that direction, so it makes sense that he would want all of his main business dealings to be in the area and not close to the casino.

The conversation lulls as Captain restores his attention to his work in front of him and you watch him curiously.

After inspecting the diamonds, he separates them into two piles, but you can’t tell if there are any differences. They all appear to have the same size and shine.

“What do you do exactly?”

“I pass off lab-grown diamonds as natural.”

“How?” “A magician never reveals his secrets,” he says with a wink. When you roll your eyes, he flashes you a bright smile. Quite literally, because of the ice on his teeth. 

“Is this one natural?” you ask, lifting up your left arm to show off the heavy, square diamond ring that you have to take off in the shower and to wash your hands. A nuisance, if you’re being honest.

“Hm, let me see?” He drops his tool to offer his palm and you hesitate for a second before placing your fingers there so he can examine your ring more closely, squinting at it and turning your hand from side to side.

“Yup, definitely mined, 18 karat white gold. Around 180 million won.”

Retracting your hand, you’re baffled by his expertise. The bartender comes over with your drink and you both thank him.

“It’s too flashy and unethically sourced for my taste,” he continues with a disapproving shake of his head.

Unethically sourced. You agree, but doesn’t he do crime for a living?

“You’re not wearing it,” you quip, his eyes sliding to you in amusement as he picks up his tool again to sort through more microdiamonds.

“I’m just saying,” he shrugs. “I’d pick a ring that goes with the size of your hand and fits your aesthetic. Not one that’s there to show how much money was spent.”

“And what would a ring like that look like?”

He peers at you with what appears to be mirth and snaps again, calling, “Yeosang-ah!” and shortly after, a head of handsome blonde hair shaping an angelic face pops out from the curtain.

“Yes?”

“Get my box of rings, will you, please?” Yeosang nods with a smile and disappears, returning moments later with a rectangle box big enough to be carried by both of his gentle hands. He sets it on the table, fixing you with the same smile before bowing out to Captain.

“You have a collection of engagement rings just lying around?” you ask once Yeosang exits.

“I have a collection of a lot of things,” Captain replies as he clicks the 4-digit combination into place.

“Like what?”

He winks. “I don’t know if that’s appropriate to tell someone who thinks she’s my boss.”

Chuckling at your eye roll, he lifts the lid and turns the box to face you. You’re lured in by all of the stunning rings that sit along five black velvet rows, missing the way Captain looks between the rings and your occupied finger.

He plucks one out that you’d been eyeing and motions for your left hand again. You quickly slide off your engagement ring, placing it in your left hand, and Captain slips on the much more comfortable band with a subtler but still beautiful jewel.

“Oh, wow,” you marvel, elevating your hand to wiggle the diamond and catch the sparkle under the light.

“Better?” A hint of a smug smile curls his lips. You level his with a mischievous one.

“If I were to walk out right now?”

“Our guards would have to tussle.”

Both of you share a chuckle that puts you on a more even footing.

“So, seriously, what else do you collect?” you ask, begrudgingly removing the ring to return it to Captain.

“Sports cars.”

You scoot to the edge of your seat, intrigued, your engagement ring still in your cupped hand. “Oh, you race?”

He smiles and winks. “That’s how I won them.”

“You and my brother have that in common.” You sit back when he doesn’t look too pleased with that observation.

“Don’t you race?” he asks, dutifully changing the subject.

“I haven’t in a while.”

“Can you drift?”

Now, that has your attention. “Maybe you have to find out.”

“Well, then let’s set something up. See what you’re made of.”

You guarantee he will. After comparing schedules, you set up a time to race.

There’s only one person you can ask for a car that will win.

Finally, after almost a month, you have a day off. Jay still isn’t back, so you fully intend on rotting in bed until you can’t stand yourself anymore. But texts from your brother notify you that is indeed not what you will do today.

8:05 Megatron🤖: Heard it’s your day off 8:05 Megatron🤖: I cooked one of hyung’s recipes. Come over for lunch. 10:55 Megatron🤖: Hellooooooo???? 10:59 Megatron🤖: Wake up before I come over there and blast an air horn

You wince, not putting it past your brother to do something childish like that. Back when you pulled an entire week of all-nighters studying for the college entrance exams, you passed out on the couch after the test, only to be jump-started awake by Jeongguk standing over you with his electric guitar and speakers on full blast as he played purposely horrible riffs. You damn near smashed that guitar on his head. Jin just made him sit in a corner for the rest of the day and told you that Jeongguk had stupid ways of letting you know he missed you.

11:28 You: I'm sleeping in bitch! 11:28 You: Don’t tell me you already ate up all the food he packed 11:30 Megatron🤖: … 11:30 You: You really are a T-rex 11:31 Jurassic Park🦖: Guy’s gotta eat 11:32 You: Well are u gonna pick me up or what 11:34 Jurassic Park🦖: Nah D’s gonna have to do it I’m finishing up with a meeting

Great. You have to see the bane of your existence on your day off.

11:35 You: I’m going to my brother’s for lunch 11:36 Demon: I can pick you up in 15 11:37 You: Make it 45 seen 11:37

As you take your time in the shower, it briefly occurs to you that if this is your day off, it’s D’s too. But not if he has to take you to your brother’s. Oh well. It’s not like you gave him the job.

You’ve missed leaving the house wearing clothes and shoes that you actually like and feel comfortable in, without having to sit for hours doing your hair and makeup to look “good” enough through the professional lense of your future father-in-law.

But D is waiting for you in his typical suit and long black coat.

“Guess you can make overtime for this,” you say, briefly glancing at him as you open your door. His shades prevent you from seeing if he’s looking back. As always.

Your brother’s new house is on the outskirts of Seoul and takes a little longer to drive to, especially since it’s up-hill.

The car stops in front of the gate, and a well-built, bald older man steps up to the driver’s side as D lowers the window. You recognize him as the man who drove you and Jeongguk to see Jin off at the docks. Your heart constricts - you have yet to hear from him. You thought he would’ve called by now, to let you know he made it somewhere safe.

“Mike,” D greets in a monotone.

“D,” Mike rumbles back in a low, gritty voice, just as flat. “If you’re not too busy, can we have a chat? Just about some surveillance.”

“Yeah, give me ten.”

Mike straightens and pats the roof of the car just as the gate shudders open and D slowly drives forward, past two heavily armed guards.

Your brother’s new house isn’t as big as the mansion you both grew up in, but it’s more modern and suited to Jeongguk’s aesthetic. Well-tended lawns and weathered gardens litter the compound, and you’ve heard from Jin that Jeongguk has developed a green thumb over the years. You’re excited to see what the spring brings. Wait, your wedding is in the spring. Goddamn it. There goes your good day.

Your mood sours but dissipates when the cutest, sweetest brown Doberman puppy bounds up to the car as you step out.

“Oh my goodness!” You exclaim, squatting down to hold out your hands before the small dog can get too far on the asphalt. “Who are you?”

Your brother rushes down the driveway, calling “Bam!” and you understand that this is your nephew.

“When did you get him?”

“This morning. And he’s already shit in the house five times.”

“That’s the spirit!” you coo to Bam, stroking his long ears so he won’t lick your face too much. You grin at your brother’s glare and he rolls his eyes before turning to D, leaning in to dap him up.

“Wanna come inside for lunch?”

Your muscles lock at the invitation your brother extends to the man you need a break from, and Bam takes the opportunity to lick your earlobe. You lean away with a giggle.

“Nah,” D shakes his head. “I’m gonna join posts with Mike. He wants me to check some surveillance points around here.”

Jeongguk nods. “Alright, well, I’ll pack you something.”

“Thanks.”

As D turns to walk away, Bam starts to whine and wiggle out of your hold and you have no choice but to set him down, eyes widening in mild panic when he takes off after your guard.

“Wait, Bam!” Your cry has D twisting around and looking down as Jeongguk’s dog runs up to him, jumping at his leg and barking playfully. Your brother chuckles and walks towards the sight of D bending down to pet Bam’s small head with a minute smile that makes something in your heart twinge. You swivel on your heel and head for the porch so you don’t witness anything else.

You make grabby hands for Bam when Jeongguk brings him back in the house, shoes already off and duffel bag dropped by the door so you can jump right into playing with your nephew.

“What’s the bag for?” Jeongguk asks, taking off his shoes as you get on your knees and Bam runs over to collapse into your lap with his tongue hanging out. You’re in love.

“Um… I’m sleeping over?”

“Oh, uh,” his smile droops. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”

“Why? You having a party I’m not invited to?”

“No,” he says with a glare. “It’s just- in case I, y’know.”

Your heart dips down in your chest. He’s worried he’ll have a night terror and you won’t be able to handle it as well as Jin.

“It’ll be fine, bro.”

His smile is uneasy as he shakes his head. “We’ll have lunch and play video games and you can stay for dinner but then I think you should go home.”

He’s just trying to protect you but it still hurts that you have to go back to an empty house instead of spending the rare free time with your brother. Oh, well. What can you do?

Jeongguk sits across from you, leaving enough space for Bam to run back and forth as you toss a small tennis ball between you.

“I like what you’ve done with the place,” you say, glancing around when Bam takes to wrestling Jeongguk’s hand for the ball.

“Thanks. I was gonna ask for your advice on decorating but you already have a lot going on.”

“Mm. I don’t know anything about decorating a bachelor pad though.”

“This isn’t a bachelor pad!”

“What about a pool table, a dart board, and a big ass TV with five gaming systems in the living room doesn’t scream ‘bachelor pad’?”

“Fuck off.”

It comforts you to see that he’s really settled into this place, more so than you have in your house, but then you spot the mini bar nestled in the corner and your fingers curl tightly around the glass.

“That came with the house,” Jeongguk murmurs when you keep staring. “And it’s empty.”

You nod, smiling at him to hide that it bothers you how temptation lives so close when he’s been working so hard to stay away.

“I guess you could use it to store all your banana milk.”

“I have that in the regular fridge.” And you don’t hesitate to help yourself despite his whiny protest. 

“Smells good in here!” you call, laughing to yourself at the disarray of the kitchen, pots and pans and little bowls littering the counters - the outcome of your brother cooking for the first time without Jin around to give him pointers or clean up behind him.

“Oh, yeah!” 

With Bam in his kennel munching on some nutritional meal your brother personally prepared for him, you set the table as Jeongguk finishes up plating, and you both ignore the missing presence, past memories floating around even in this new space. Jin at the stove, calling over his shoulder at you and Jeongguk arguing about who gets the best pair of chopsticks - Jin taking them for himself in the end. Silly, stupid family stuff that can’t be replaced.

He offers you a little taste of the bibimbap before he brings it over to the table. The flavors are rich and savory, textures perfectly blended and you don’t realize how much you haven’t eaten this past week until this very moment. You could eat all the servings in sight, but your brother would fight you to the death.

“It’s not bad.”

Your brother’s face lights up. “Really?”

“I mean, it’s obvious Jin didn’t cook it, but it’s still good.”

Jeongguk flicks your forehead and you reach out to smack him on the neck in retaliation, and for a split second, both of you pause and glance to the head of the table, expecting Jin to scold and push you apart. When he’s not there, the heartbreak in your chest sits you back in your chair, Jeongguk mirroring you, and you both eat in silence, wishing your brother was here to crack one of his dumb jokes.

“How are you doing? With everything,” you ask carefully.

“Fine,” he shrugs as he chews. “Hyung set things up for a smooth transition, but it’s a little weird picking up where he left off. People are still getting used to me.”

“Well, I’m sure it won’t take them long since you’re so much like him.”

His eyes crease along with a smile. “You think so?”

“Yeah, you’re just as annoying and bossy and headstrong.”

He scowls and reaches over to snatch a bite out of your bowl, and you grab his forearm to hold him back from eating it but you’re no match for his kangaroo strength. Letting go, you grimace and flip him off to which he chews happily in your face.

“So are you, y’know,” he says after a few moments of resumed eating.

You hum. That’s true. You both carry qualities and traits of Jin since he was the one who pretty much raised you. You hope you don’t lose that in all this mess.

“What about you?” he asks mid-bite.

“I’m-” you sigh. “-having a bit of a hard time adjusting. Joon is really helpful though. He found my assistant.”

“Oh, good,” He smiles, cheeks full. “Now I can get him back.”

“He has to train her first but then he’s all yours.”

“You can still go to him if you need to.” “He’s told me the same.”

The rest of the meal is spent in silence as you fill up to the point that your tummy hurts and you’re satisfied.

“You done?”

When you nod, he stands and collects your bowl and you follow him into the kitchen to help clean up.

As you get started on dishes, your brother packs up the extra food in glass tupperware and tucks it in a reusable bag before placing it back in the fridge.

“Remind me to get that out for D.”

“Remind yourself.”

“Okay, jerk.”

He joins you at the sink to dry the dishes that you wash, and it’s taking a lot of constraint on both your parts to not start swishing water and soap at each other. But without the distraction, you’re able to debate ways to convince your brother to lend you a car so you can race and win against Captain. Jeongguk’s a stubborn bull and doesn’t like to share his things - which, growing up, you acted as if that never applied to you, and as his adorable younger sister, you felt entitled to “borrowing” his sweaters, jackets, socks (if Jin had just pulled them out of the dryer), headphones, chargers, etc.) but it’s a little harder to “borrow” one of his cars. He’d probably do more than chase you around the house and call you names if you attempted that without asking.

After you hand him another dish to dry, he suddenly grabs your wrist and lifts it up, disregarding your attempts to wrestle out of his grip.

“Ow, hey!”

“Hold still.” You close your mouth when you realize he’s looking at your irritated cuticles.

“You started that again?” You scowl, shaking him off. He does it too, why is he getting on your ass about it?

“It’s not a big deal.” He side eyes you with a look that means he wants to argue but his teeth toy with his lip ring instead.

“It helps when you get your nails done, right?”

“Yeah, but I don’t have time. It’s fine.”

“Didn’t hyung used to do them for you?”

“Are you offering instead?” 

“No,” he says quickly, but the way he averts his eyes says otherwise.

Lightbulb.

“Instead of painting my nails, you could lend me a car,” you say, turning the conversation.

Jeongguk’s pierced eyebrow raises.

“A car,” he responds, like he doesn’t know what you’re getting at. “Yeah, one I can race.”

“Who are you racing?” he asks curiously, fully turning to you as he dries his hands with the dish towel.

“Captain. It’s a networking thing.”

His amusement capsizes. “Uh-huh.”

Hip leaning against the counter, he stares down at the floor, teeth in his lip ring as he thinks.

“I don’t know.” He shakes his head before raising it, eyes lowered in disagreement. “You’ve got to stay off the radar as much as you can, sis.”

“Oh, come on. What’s one race gonna do?”

“Bullshit, this won’t just be one race.”

Damn, he’s right. But who does he think you got it from?

You fold your hands under your chin and push out your lips in a pathetic pout.

“Please?” 

Eyes rolling, he shoos away your pitiful attempt. “I’m not hyung, that shit won’t work on me.”

“D’s gonna be there, right? Isn’t that why you hired him? So I can do stuff?”

“Work stuff,” he counters.

“This is work! Technically.” Jeongguk huffs out an elongated sigh.

The familiar sound of reluctance.

“Alright, let’s go pick one out.”

Your brother’s cool as fuck garage is underground, requiring a trip outside to a vacuum elevator protected by a glass enclosure. The sun is beaming down on the grounds as you and Jeongguk stride into the yard, Bam bouncing in his arms.

“D!” Jeongguk calls, lifting his free hand to wave over the man standing by the gate and leading conversation with Mike and two other guards, all dressed in the same uniform fashion. You focus on your sneakers to avoid seeing D look over as your brother gestures to let him know you’re going down to the garage.

To your much needed relief, D doesn’t follow and you’re left to explore the garage with your brother. And Bam, just happy to be here.

In the dimly lit, cold garage, multiple rows of luxurious cars at your beck and call, you already know the one you’re going with.

“I’m taking the Divo.” He scoffs. “Like hell you are!”

“Just try and stop me!” Your shout bounces off the walls as you speed towards the royal blue Bugatti.

“No way, Angel.”

The Divo is the rarest, most expensive car in his collection -the one Jin bought for his birthday last year- which is why he’s not giving it up easily, but he owes you this at least.

“Give me the Divo, or I’m taking Bam.”

“You’re not seriously negotiating a car with my dog.”

Honestly, you’d take Bam home either way. Darn cute baby. (But you won’t, because your brother needs him.)

“C’mon, do something nice for your little sister for once in your life.”

His eyes narrow at you in a glare, but he doesn’t make any disputes.

“Can’t you take literally any other car?”

“No.”

“Pain in my ass,” he mutters, shaking his head. “You better fucking win.”

“I always win, bro,” you grin, leaning back on the hood.

“I guess,” he concedes. “Except when you’re up against me.”

“Your head’s gonna explode with all that hot air.”

Jeongguk can’t chase you with Bam in his arms.

After multiple rounds of video games and a minor food fight as you cooked dinner together, Jeongguk’s sleepy eyes hint that it’s time to go home.

“I’m gonna go get D to bring the car around,” he yawns, stretching his arms up high.

Booooo.

“I’m driving it home, right?”

Jeongguk looks at you as if that’s the opposite of what he had in mind, attention redirected to Bam yipping at his feet. That’s a yes.

You use the bathroom before you go and Jeongguk is outside on the patio talking to D. His shades are gone now that it’s night so you know it’s time to keep your eye level down.

“Just tail her and make sure that-“

“Don’t talk about me like I’m not here!” You sing-song as you walk right between them, shoulders brushing their chests, forcing them to take a step back.

“It’s about your safety, dodo!” Jeongguk calls, and you throw up a middle finger in response.

The Divo is waiting for you outside the gate and you giddily skip towards it, twirling back around for your brother, expectantly holding out your hand for the fob. He rolls his eyes as he pulls it from his coat pocket and reluctantly slaps it in your palm.

You smile at the sound of the doors unlocking in that expensive way they do, and you lean in to very gently set your duffel on the passenger’s seat.

“So where’s this dinner thing again?” Jeongguk asks as you get ready to lower yourself down into the seat, buzzing with excitement.

“What dinner thing?”

“With Jay’s family?”

“Oh!” You totally forgot. Despite Namjoon’s reminders, your brain-fried mind totally threw that off your radar. Jeongguk chuckles.

“It’s at the King Hotel. You’re really gonna come?”

“I was invited, wasn’t I?”

“I think they were just being courteous.” His knee lifts as if to kick you but you angle your body to be shielded by his favorite car and he settles you with a dark glare.

Sighing, he turns to your guard and daps him up again in a tough guy goodbye hug.

“See you then, D.”

You shut yourself away in the car as D opens his mouth to reply.

Ohhh. It feels so good to have the leather steering wheel of a sports car in your hands, the fitted curve of the chair molding you to the interior, the satisfying click of the fob as you slide it in its designated slot to start it up, and the loud, sharp growl of the engine that thunders to life beneath you.

In a car like this, you might never want to get out. You could reach the edge of the city in a matter of minutes with this kind of horsepower under your control. But there’s one thing standing in the way.

One man.

And he’s getting in the Elantra to fucking tail you home. The N may be a sports car, but the engine has no comparable power to what's riding in the center of your brother’s Divo.

You’re going to put that to the test.

As the gate closes, you glance into the rear view mirror to watch your brother disappear up the driveway, and it’s only until he’s out of sight do you ram your foot on the gas and take off, zooming down the windy, narrow roads feeling absolutely fucking free.

Once you get onto the main road, you weave in and out of traffic to try to evade him but he stays in clear sight of your rearview mirror.

What will it fucking take? A slow burning builds in your fingers clenched around the steering wheel as you switch gears to kick up your speed as traffic clears and you have longer stretches of road to get away from him.

In the near-distance, the light turns from green to yellow and you pump the gas to make it through. As you pass through the intersection, your heart jumps in delight when you see the Elantra stuck at the red light. Grinning victoriously, you speed into the night.

Rolling down the windows to catch the cold wind running past,

freedom is yours as the Divo rips onto the highway. You could go to Seoul right now and get lost in the busier streets. For the first time since you came back home, a smile graces you without force, heart feeling full.

But that is annihilated by the growl of an engine sidling up yo you and - Fuck, there he is, pulled up right beside you, perfectly matching your speed. How did he-

Okay, now you’re pissed.

Propping your elbow on the door handle, you hold up your middle finger and direct it at his tinted window, not putting it down until you have an opportunity to pull ahead, cut into his lane and drive in front of him.

You don’t let him get beside you again. And he doesn’t let you completely lose him. You have no choice but to go home. Well, to the house you currently live in.

Steam is ringing out of your ears as you slow your roll into the driveway, gate closed and locked. You stare at the small keypad standing on your left, blinking a red dot at you.

Shit. What’s the code? It’s crazy that you don’t know the code to your own goddamn home. As you intrusively consider just ramming through the gate, your phone buzzes in the console, a text from D flashing the message ‘537426#’. 

You punch the numbers in so hard the keypad rocks and you flip one more middle finger in the air as the gate grinds open and you drive the Divo through.

You sit in the car until it’s too cold, picking at your cuticles until they're raw. You really should paint your nails.

As soon as you pass over the threshold of the casino, your phone rings loudly with an incoming call from Jay’s father again.

His gruff voice greets the line before you have the chance to open your mouth.

“My office. Now.”

Your empty stomach churns as he hangs up and you look around, expecting him to be on the floor waiting for you but he’s nowhere in sight. How did he know you’d arrived?

You don’t want to be in a room alone with him, but he might not give you the choice. Taking the elevator up, you tuck your hands under your elbows so you’re not tempted.

His door is already open and D is still walking down the hall as you pause to take a deep, albeit shaky breath. Grow a fucking uterus.

“What’s this about, sir?” you ask, somewhat bravely approaching him as his attention snaps up from his computer with a rage in his eyes that makes you falter, stomach lurching.

“You can wait outside,” he snaps at your guard behind you. Glancing back, your anxiety swims deeper in your gut, rendered with no clue where your place is. You’re D’s boss, but Jay’s father is yours, so you’re aware that you don’t have the upper hand in this scenario. You can’t counter his command.

“Either the door stays open or I stay in here,” D’s tone is flat as ever so it doesn’t sound like a threat, but Jay’s father must take it as one because he doesn’t argue and your guard takes position by the door, standing against the wall.

“I don’t appreciate you going behind my back and hiring that girl I fired as your assistant.”

“Well, I’ve been looking for one and she happened to fit the criteria.”

“But I let her go.”

“With all due respect, sir, she’s not going to be working for you.”

“Who’s paying her salary, then?”

“I am.”

“You mean your brother.”

To ensure that Byeol’s income doesn’t become muddied with dirty mob money, the salary she’ll earn will strictly come from what you make at the casino but if it appeases him to think otherwise…

“Yes, sir.”

“Fine,” he acquiesces, folding his arms, still obviously pissed. “But if she becomes a liability, the consequences will fall under you.”

“I understand.”

He starts typing at his computer again as if you’d suddenly disappeared, so you give an insincere bow of your head that he doesn’t see, and turn to leave, but just as you pass D, he speaks up.

“Oh, and we’ll be having the family dinner here tomorrow night.”

“Here? I thought it was at the King Hotel.”

“Change of plans. Be on time for this and wear something nicer than your work clothes. You have to make a good impression on us.”

Your entire body is tied in a knot as you finally walk out. If the dinner your brother was initially invited to you is here, at the casino, he won’t be able to attend. An ugly, sharp-toothed monster gnaws at your ribcage because you can’t help but think they did this on purpose.

How are you supposed to tell your brother without sending him into a wreckage he might not be able to repair without Jin?

If you can’t, who else can? Your breath constricts when you realize that the singular other person is walking right behind you. Your words turn bitter on your tongue as you wait to come to a stop at the elevator and D leans over to press the down button.

“Can you tell my brother that the in-laws changed the venue for dinner tomorrow to the casino?”

He continues facing the wall as he nods and you’re glad (for once) that he keeps his mouth shut on the elevator ride back down to your office.

“Hi, Miss Jeon!” A cheery voice greets you. You look up in mild confusion to see Byeol bouncing on her toes by the desk outside your office, wearing a black long-sleeved button down cardigan and pencil skirt with matching flats. Namjoon sits at the computer, typing away at the system, probably getting it set up for her.

“Oh, hi, Byeol!” you try to match her energy, but the nausea tamps it down.

“Thank you so, so much for this opportunity!” Her smile is wide and eager and it’s a pleasant sight compared to her melancholy as she left your office the other day. “I want you to know that I will work very hard to help you in any way I can and I won’t let you down.”

You don’t need much else to believe her. 

“Thank you, I’m sure you won’t.” She beams at you. “I see that you’ve started on your training, so I’ll check on you later. I’m gonna head in to get some work done.”

And by that you mean crawling under your desk, holding your knees against your chest until you can breathe normally without the threat of crying.

Hair formal, makeup flattering, outfit chic. You look fucking good.  But you don't feel it.

Jay waits for you at the bottom of the stairs, wearing a monochrome ensemble of a black dress shirt, blazer and slacks, sleeve pushed up on his left wrist showcasing the expensive, diamond encrusted Rolex. Captain pops into your mind and you suppress a smile, wondering if the diamonds are real or lab-grown.

“You look amazing,” he compliments as you reach the last few steps, offering his hand as a substitute for the railing. Hair swept off his forehead, he’s not completely unfortunate looking, but you’re still way out of his league. A shallow part of you hopes he knows that.

“And tonight, I’ll make sure everyone knows that you belong to me.”

He kisses your knuckles and you try to match his smile, despite the persistent whirlpool in the pit of your stomach that only worsens on the drive to the casino because he never lets go of your hand.

It doesn’t get any better even after stepping into familiar territory because the people there are anything but. There are so many of Jay’s family that you have to make a good impression on, including his mother who has not stopped staring at you since you walked in.

Already, it’s getting hard to breathe and you can’t lose it before you even start. So before Jay’s parents can walk over and suck you into countless introductions, you politely excuse yourself to the bathroom and it takes all of your grace to not run out. Shimmying out of your coat, you toss it at D without looking back, knowing he's already there.

Since it’s the beginning of the night, the bathroom is empty, and once the door closes, you stumble over to the counter and grip onto the edge, a whirl in your head that weakens your ability to ignore your nausea. You stand there so long that your soles start to ache, heels straining your ankles.

You jolt at the sound of the door swinging open, heart stopping when in walks Jay’s mother. So much for that. Without hesitation, you straighten and wipe your clammy hands on your dress, smoothing out the wrinkles as she regards you with a stiff smile before secluding herself in the stall.

You did come in here to use the bathroom, but you had to remember how to breathe first. The toilet a few doors over flushes before you’re done and you telepathically will her to leave, but after the sink runs for a few minutes, you deduce from a thunk on the counter followed by the rustle of dense plastic that she’s touching up her makeup.

If you stall any longer, she may ascertain that you’re sick or avoiding her - which you are, but the last thing you want to do is make your future mother-in-law think you’re rude.

So, pulling up your big girl panties, you exit the stall and strut to the counter opposite of her with your head down. You offer a polite smile in the mirror when you feel her eyes examine your reflection as she applies a fresh coat of lipstick.

“It’s good to see you again, Angel.”

“You as well, ma’am,” you answer, willing a cordial smile, flicking off excess water before reaching for a paper towel.

She nods, capping the tube as she pops her lips together.

“I’m sorry your brother can’t make it.”

“Yeah, he’s very busy these days.”

“Yes. That’s the reason.”

Oh. So it’s like that?

“Without him here, I hope you’ll conduct yourself with proper etiquette.”

What the fuck? “I’m sorry?”

“I heard about your incident at the commission meeting. With the cigar.”

Word really gets around. So Jay must know that too. Is there a reason why he hasn't said anything?

“That hot headed behavior will not be tolerated by anyone in this family.”

Your nail pierces into the skin of your hand, the sting doing nothing to quell the growing blaze in your veins. She’s really coming for your throat.

“And my husband told me about the situation with your assistant. You won’t get away with undermining him or my son once you’re married. So start learning your place.”

Your… place. What kind of archaic bullshit-?

“Are you saying I’m supposed to submit to them?”

“Yes, if you want to survive,” she affirms sternly, a coldness in her eyes that makes you uneasy. “This is about power and tradition, and I’m just warning you that they won’t allow you to disturb that.”

Is she expecting you to be a good little trophy wife, who stays at home and shines his shoes? You’d rather an anvil be dropped on your head.

“I won’t cook for him. Or do his laundry. Or pick up after him.” She turns to you with a tight-lipped smile. “Of course not, you have people for that. And when the time comes to have a child, you can hire all the nannies you want.”

A thick knot lodges in your throat and your breath catches on it. An heir? Jin said you don’t have to give an heir.

“That was never agreed on with my brothers.”

“But it was with your father.”

A fist grapples your heart and squeezes, yanking and tugging painfully through your ribcage.

Your father is probably down in the hottest part of hell having the last laugh at your expense. He truly never gave a rat’s ass about you. Lee Dongwook was right - you are just a pawn in your father’s plan to keep his power seated at the head of the syndicate. You have no value otherwise. Will you even get to keep working at the casino once you’re married? Or was that a compromise Jay’s father made with Jin before he left and it’s all just a lie?

“What if I don’t want a child?” 

“Then I suggest you make the effort to change your mind. It’s your duty as a woman.”

Force you into duty. Put you in your place. Strip away your power. All things you would’ve never imagined being a part of. 

“And just remember, if you decide not to go through with this marriage, it will be on you for the failure of the alliance. There will be hell to pay. You don’t want to fail your brothers, do you?”

She may as well have punched you in the face.

The whole syndicate could crumble and collapse because of you. You would fail your brothers, let down Jeongguk and make him take on more responsibilities - ones that are yours and yours alone because he has too much to oversee already. He can’t take care of you or worry about you so you can’t give him any reason to.

What the fuck is your life? How are you supposed to live like this?

Bursting out of the bathroom, you just barely notice D positioned next to the door, too busy frantically looking for a way out.

“Where’s the roof?” you utter, nerves in every cell shaking so much you see a double of him as he points to the end of the hall.

“Take a right, there’s a set of stairs.”

Chest tightening with each breath you struggle to take, your hand on the wall holds you up as you rush in the direction of the stairwell, tripping on almost every step on the way up to the heavyset metal door you have to use all of your weight to open.

The cold air of the dry, wintry night sharply plunges into your lungs that inflate and crease tortuously under your ribs, failing to catch a single breath.

Your blurred vision finds the lights of the city decorating the horizon and you wander towards it, but your feet malfunction because you can’t fucking-

“Breathe.” D’s voice penetrates the static blaring in your ears, and you don’t need him telling you what to do! If only you had enough oxygen to say that.

“Don’t-!” You wheeze, reaching out to push him away, but the force of your hand on his chest has you staggering back a step. When you clench his lapel with both hands to hold yourself up, you suddenly feel like you’re not going to drown.

But panic continues to rage through your airways and the edges of your vision are darkening so you rack your dizzy brain for that calming technique you learned during your stressful uni days.

Five things you can see, four you can touch, three you can hear, two you can smell, and one you can taste.

Five things you can see, okay, um. The ring on your hand curled in the lapel of his coat, his silver collar bar, his Adam's apple… You gulp.

Two more.

Your shaking focus shifts up to the mole next to the left side of his nose.

The vertical scar under his right eye.

Four things you can touch. Breathing still shallow, your fingers slide over to his tie, and you expect the texture to be coarser, but it’s so soft.

You can’t feel his heartbeat, doubting he even has one anymore.

Wait, his chest is… solid. Unnaturally so. Right. He’s wearing a bulletproof vest.

You think about how he’s standing here right now, guarding you. How your brothers hired him, chose him for the job, paying him to take a bullet for you if need be.

Is that why he hates you?

He’s still holding your coat, and as you go to clutch it, your fingertips accidentally graze the thick silver rings above his knuckles, the touch of the cold metal causing fizzles beneath your skin.

Three you can hear. Your labored breathing, cars on the street below, the crinkle of his suit in your fist. (You ignore the noise in your head screaming, why can’t you let go of your shadow?).

Almost done, okay, you can do this, you can calm down. You have to.

Two you can smell. Your perfume, rich and velvety. His… cologne, smooth and smoky. Warm. Fuck. 

Let go let go!

But you only have one left - one you can taste. Your eyes flit down to his lips and- Hold the fuck up! That’s not- He doesn’t- You’re about to start panicking for a whole other reason.

Snatching your coat, you step away from him, twisting around with your head down to swing it around your shoulders and pretend like you didn’t just use him to bring yourself out of a nearly uncontrollable spiral.

You want to get away from him, but that would mean going back inside. Stuck between a rock and a hard place. Damn it. So you head back to the horizon, the railing stopping you from reaching it. D stays a few feet behind you.

“Cigarette,” you demand with no inflection as you lean against the metal bar, palm held up, arm wrapping around your middle to keep your coat closed. You would’ve bought your own damn pack, but the only cash you have on you at the moment is the wad of 500,000 won that’s been burning a hole in your purse for the past few weeks because you don’t have the fucking stomach to confront D. But at the very least, you have the audacity to bum a smoke from him.

You keep your eyes on the dark evening horizon as D reaches into his suit to pull out the familiar carton and lighter, letting you pick a stick out of the fresh pack and use his lighter up the end.

“Did you hear everything she said?” He shakes his head, and you flick off ash, really hoping he didn’t. But he’s probably still a good liar, if not better.

“She told me you won’t always be around. They’ll fire you once I get married.”

“I’m not going anywhere.”

“Why the fuck should I believe you?” you spit with your bitter, champagne-laced mouth.

“Because it’s my job to stay.”

Stay. Stay? Now he’s going to fucking stay?

“Well, I guess that’s tough fucking shit for you, huh?” you grimace sarcastically with the cigarette between your teeth, taking a deep drag so smoke fully inflates your lungs. “Get out of my face, go stand by the door.”

You dismiss him with a wave of your hand over your shoulder, and he takes a silent step back before turning around and walking towards his position as you furiously smoke the cigarette.

He’s only staying for a goddamn check.

Money. That’s become your only worth. It wasn’t until you came back home. Well, before that you were worth next to nothing.

No value, no worth. Except for being a money- and a baby-maker.

“You want him out here?” D’s voice rips you away from the onyx horizon and you twirl around, ready to rip him a new one for speaking after you dismissed him, only for your anger to be dimmed by a silhouette pushing open the roof door. Your fiancé, coming to mind your business.

“Fuck,” you mutter, hitting the cigarette once more before dropping it on the ground and squishing it under your heel.

Blowing out smoke and hoping Jay doesn’t see, you turn back with a slight wobble as he calls out, “Angel, I’ve been looking all over for you!”

“Sorry, I just needed some fresh air,” you fake a smile, walking towards him with a quick smooth down of your dress.

“It’s freezing, you’ll catch your death out here!”

Might not be a bad thing, the devil in the back of your head whispers saccharinely as Jay puts his hands on your shoulders and rubs to warm you up. All you want to do is shrug him off and go the fuck home to your separate sleeping quarters.

“Were you smoking?”

“Yeah, but I don’t do it that often.”

“We’re going to have to break that habit. It’s not good for you.”

Neither is this lifestyle, but you've lost control of that now.

Back in the dining hall that is slowly becoming your personal hell, Jay disappears to fetch you a drink, and seconds later, his mother struts towards you, carrying two flutes of champagne. She offers you one, flickering a brief glance at the space behind you. The shadow behind you.

“Tell your guard to keep his glasses on. He looks like those thugs he’s supposed to be protecting you from.”

What does she mean by tha- oh.

Your fingers tighten around the stem of your glass as she walks away to greet a few people in an elegant tone she has never used with you.

Because for some reason you’re unable to say them to his face, you pull out your phone and type with shaking thumbs the message to D:

Keep your glasses on. There are high-class people around

The message sends and you briskly walk away, washing down the strange feeling in your gut with the pricey bubbly, refusing to look at him for the rest of the night. But you can feel his eyes on you the entire time.

Glasses remaining, he lingers on the sidelines, and you wonder what he pays attention to most:

The people bustling all around you - your fiancé’s family and friends who greet you with fake smiles and forced small talk because your brother is the don and they have to make nice.

Jay’s arm that never leaves your waist, his hand rubbing across your hip, making you shiver and not in a way you like.

The men who leer at you as you pass by; who shake your hand and unashamedly look you up and down. All the while Jay doesn’t notice, or turns an oblivious eye.

You who smiles through it all. Because his mother’s words ring in your mind - you’re supposed to be like the women who won’t speak unless spoken to by their husbands: quiet and submissive. Complacent.

Everything you are not.

What the fuck did your brothers sign you up for? What did your bastard father set you up to become?

At dinner time, Jay grabs your left hand and leads you to the grandiose table. The food laid out looks delicious, but you don’t know how much of it you can stomach. You spare a peripheral glance behind you, finding D standing against the wall parallel to your seat. You feel some of the nausea waver away, taking it as reprieve for finally sitting down.

Jay’s mother clinks the rim of her champagne glass as her husband stands at the head of the table.

He clears his throat once he has the attention of the entire room, and zeroes in on you with a gesture of his flute.

“As you all know, this lovely young woman will be joining our family in the spring. Officially!”

Jay holds up your adorned hand as the table claps, showing off your ring. His father puts a hand on his mother’s shoulder.

“We’re very excited for their future together, and the future of our legacy.”

Bile creeps up your esophagus as the table raises their glasses in tandem, all eyes on you.

“To Jay and Angel!”

The rest of the night goes on with you feeling as if your body doesn’t belong to you. Maybe that’s what Jay was going for.

For whatever reason that you’ll be eternally grateful for, Jay sends you off home alone to stay behind with his parents and you cannot get out of there fast enough.

In the car, nausea swims laps throughout your stomach as you silently beg, plead the universe for Jin to come home. He’s the only one who could fix this.

Your phone buzzes and you snatch it up - maybe someone, something out there heard your cries but disappointment comes in the form of texts not from your brother.

21:47 Hope: I’m not having a lot of luck in finding your mother, I apologize 21:47 Hope: But I’m not giving up!

He’s a cop, he was Jin’s- something, he has to know a way to get in touch. You dial his contact before you can think smarter.

“Hi, I’m sorry, I know I shouldn’t be calling like this-“

“It’s no problem. What can I do for you?”

“There’s no way to get in contact with my brother, is there?”

“Atlas? No, I’m afraid not. He said he’ll reach out when he can.”

“Fuck,” you whisper, nails scraping the leather hard enough to make marks.

“Is everything okay?”

“I’ll be fine. Sorry again.” And you hang up, tossing your phone on the floor below the opposite seat.

The wave. It won’t stay down.

“Pull over.”

Covering your mouth, you slide to the other side of the leather seat as D maneuvers the car onto the shoulder, smacking the lock and handle to dump yourself onto the asphalt, bile hitting the ground before your feet do.

Since you barely touched dinner - and ate nothing more than one square meal a day this week - all you’re throwing up is the champagne and what little you digested.

When you’ve finished humiliating yourself on the side of the road, feeling sicker than you did before you emptied your guts, D is standing by the trunk of the car, just in front of the white line separating the road from the shoulder. He’s not facing you, but he definitely still heard you retching. You get into the car before he turns around.

You’re buckling up when D gets in, dizzy like your brain is sloshing around in your skull and in the blurry darkness, you barely see the handkerchief dangling in the air.

“You alright?” he asks quietly.

“Fuck you,” you snap, nonetheless snatching up the silk so you can wipe your mouth instead of using the sleeve of your coat.

You keep the handkerchief this time.

.

.

.

ahhhhh sorry for the delay!! i'm sorry i had to split this in two parts but I SWEAR TO GOD THE SECOND PART WILL BE FINISHED TOMORROW!!!! thank u so much for reading!! let me know what you think!!

<<<previous chapter * next chapter>>>

taglist (open!): @polarnightmyg @rinkud @viankiss @futuristicenemychaos @busanbby-jjk @skzlover24 @wonh0oe @mar-lo-pap @ktownshizzle @taegijns @glossdebut @butterymin @kiki-zb

[cinnacorn]

post-event thoughts about dashcon 2

so it's been a few days since I got home, and now that I've had a chance to decompress, I wanted to describe my amazing experience and put some of my thoughts into words about the convention!

putting it under a read-more cuz it's going to be pretty long (and also very cheesy, you've been warned). :P

(I was the ms. frizzle cosplayer, and my sibling @duskroads was the dredge fisherman!)

for context, I've been attending conventions (mostly anime, some comic) since 2009, and I've been on tumblr continuously since 2011. I definitely remember watching from afar when the original dashcon happened, and I'm a longtime convention-goer.

I was pretty excited that not only was dashcon 2 happening, but in toronto, which I visit frequently, and by some amazing stroke of luck I managed to nab tickets for myself and my sibling. I was honestly a little dumbfounded given how fast they sold, I kept thinking I'd get a refund email that was like "oops we oversold and yours was the last purchased!"

I think my biggest worry was actually not that it'd be a shitshow (I wasn't too worried based on the site FAQ), but that it'd be boring. I've been to small conventions that I ended up leaving early for that reason.

but dashcon 2 was absolutely anything but boring. I've been to conventions where there's a sense of camaraderie, but never quite as strong as the sheer feeling of community last weekend. it genuinely felt like everyone was just a friend I hadn't met yet, and everyone was so kind.

this post would be even more of a novel if I got too into this topic, but I'm a newly-formally-diagnosed autistic, and while my self-acceptance has generally been solid since long before suspecting I was autistic, there are a few things I'm still unlearning shame around now that I know they're not somehow personal failings. y'all, I felt so safe and understood, both in the discord(s) and in person at dashcon 2, in a way that I've never quite felt before. people were bringing up neurodivergent struggles with things that I've never heard anyone talk about before but faced myself. everyone completely got it when I mentioned being overstimulated easily. I just knew that if I was struggling, not just my sibling but everyone around me would understand without judgement and be willing to help. (luckily I only got a little overwhelmed once, which was solved by putting in earplugs!)

and the convention was so fun too! the artists in the dealers room were fantastic, the panels and events were all engaging and enjoyable, and the activities were a blast. there were so many little weird details about the day (a gaggle of hatsune mikus may have set off an anti-theft alarm! I found a little plastic baby on the ground! literally everything about the duel and subsequent funeral!) that just felt so delightfully absurd and yet completely on-brand.

I especially loved the crow exchange, and also the amount of people just giving stuff out throughout the day. I am so touched and impressed by the amount of time and/or money people put into generously handing out nifty things. my haul of things I traded for or was given is like twice the size of my purchase haul!

I regret not being able to attend some of the panels (the line for the strange aeons panel was gigantic when I got out of the panel room before it!), but the Making of Dashcon 2 panel and the Rabid and Loving panel were simultaneously some of the funniest and most informative panels I've been to at a convention. I'm glad I didn't miss either of them, especially the raccoon one. I'll definitely also check out several of the others when the VODs drop.

the closing ceremonies were so emotional and sweet. I loved how we sung happy birthday to avis's mom and everyone called her "mom," and how we continued the legacy of the first dashcon by singing we are the champions. finishing off the day's events like that really compounded on the sense of community that I was feeling. my sibling and I ran out of steam shortly after that but we even did an extra half-hearted lap around the dealer's room just because we didn't want to leave.

I also loved how happy my ms. frizzle cosplay made everyone! it was a remake of one I made in 2016 but I hadn't cosplayed her in years and I forgot just how fun it is to cosplay her. I also had multiple people ask me where I bought the dress, which as a longtime hobby seamstress felt incredibly flattering. I put a lot of work into it and I'm so glad people got excited about it. (please let me know if you any have pictures of me, I'd love to see them!)

this event just felt like a chance for everyone to be unapologetically ourselves, and it turns out that who we are as a community is full of passion, kindness, joy, and silliness. truly, we are all cringe but we are all free.

I really hope that if there is another event next year, I'm able to get tickets. my biggest fear is that it happens again but I can't attend, because this was just such an amazing day. I also do a lot of panels for anime conventions, so I really hope I can run some next year for dashcon!

from the bottom of my heart, I am so grateful to everyone involved with making the day happen, because it really was special. thank you to @the-muppet-joker, @strange-aeons, and @xiranjayzhao for all injecting so much entertainment and chaos into the whole day (side note: thank you also to strange and xiran for your videos keeping me company at work or while sewing. :P) thank you to the volunteers, vendors, and my fellow attendees for making the convention what it was. thank you so much to @raccoonmilf for coming up with the idea all those years ago (even if it didn't go so smoothly the first time around!), for giving it a second chance, and for the awesome panel teaching us about all these raccoon facts that I can now share with people. and of course thank you to all the staff at @dashcon-two for having this crazy idea to bring back dashcon in the first place and then actually making it happen!

I can't thank everyone enough. thank you so much. my heart is so full. thank you.

[once-more-with-gravitas]

With New XKit officially riding off into the sunset, I’m taking this opportunity to have a nice maudlin ramble about my time with XKit. The past ten years have been a fantastic journey filled with so much learning and growth. Thank you to all the volunteers and users who made New XKit possible. Read on for the story of how a bit of badgering and the nerdiest long-distance relationship resulted in an open source software project used by almost half a million people.

In the far-off year of 2015, my girlfriend (now wife :)) came to me and said, "hey, I'm having trouble with XKit because nobody is maintaining it. you love javascript and open source so you should do something." Being a fool, I agreed and dove in alongside her. What we found were 41,238 lines of nearly-comment-free code that was a little obtuse and poorly formatted before nine months of bitrot had peppered bugs throughout it. Which is to say, it was only a little worse than the code I was already working with (and sometimes creating) as an undergraduate.

Working with all the power of two bored nerds, my girlfriend and I fixed the most major problems with the code, spun up our own hosting, and created our own extensions: Anti-Capitalism and Lethe, respectively (our priorities perhaps revealing a bit about who we are as people). We registered a new blog, @new-xkit-extension, and made our first post announcing that we had working builds of XKit that you could install with a bit of know-how.

This post blew up! It turns out that the lovely people of Tumblr were absolutely foaming at the mouth for someone to get any form of XKit working so we were inundated with asks thanking us for our efforts (at this point quite minimal!), wondering when we'd have a normal XKit build out, and reporting problems with our developer build. All of this filled us with determination. We spent unhealthy amounts of time over the next few days fixing bugs and nurturing the fledgling project.

After only a couple days we would be graced with the most important event of the whole project--one that sets the stage for what made all of this worth it. We got our first contributor, @xumbra! A random stranger saw us frantically patching all the holes in XKit and stepped up to help. If there’s one thing I’d like you to get out of this meandering tale, it’s that people can come together through a spirit of helpfulness to create a better world. Or, in this case, a better way to reblog posts.

One week, one contributor, and five thousand (!!) followers later, we entered a very hectic period of devoting an unreasonable amount of time to making New XKit the best it could be. The love language of both my girlfriend and I was officially JavaScript. One highlight from these early days is the time when we had to make a post to clarify that, despite all the bugs we were still frantically fixing, the invisible notes were @staff’s fault, not ours. We also decided to base our blog’s theme around Kill La Kill. While this is presumably my fault, I have no idea why this felt like a good idea. Speaking of ideas that seemed good at the time, we saw that the ability to edit reblogs was being removed and introduced an extension to keep them around. This extension got a lot of people to use New XKit and was beloved by the RP community but it was an absolute nightmare to maintain. In return for this bit of ill-advised hackery, we got to make a fun meme, so it’s all worth it in the end. These early days also saw some stumbles! The all caps DON’T UPDATE ON FIREFOX is an iconic example of the long path towards stability ahead of us. We also gained several members on the New XKit crew! As our growth exploded, it became clearer and clearer that we were in need of some process and professionalism.

Thus began a heart-racing montage of dotting i’s and crossing t’s. The growing New XKit team split out support and shitposting from the main blog, freeing it up to be used for important announcements. We also created a live support channel and started using project management software. After a short fundraising campaign, we even scraped together the money for an iOS development certificate and would soon extend our support to every major browser. Thank you to all the generous people who helped! This is also around the time when @staff would change the reblog layout, banishing the vertical discourse lines...until we brought them back with a new extension. It had only been half a year since we set out on this journey. New XKit was becoming a proper community-driven open source software project with around 300,000 users all customizing their Tumblr experience. At this point, we put together a whole discord-hosted town hall event where the whole team spent four and half hours straight hashing out ways to further improve the project and answering community questions. It was a testament to how engaged and improvement-hungry our crew was and it warms my heart to this day. It also keeps me humble; because wow, past me had some Very Wrong software development opinions. Luckily, the New XKit team was (and is) full of super knowledgeable people and we continued on a good course. Hell, unbeknownst to us, our newest team member, @april, would go on to be the best addon developer on all of Tumblr. All was at peace and New XKit was properly “less broken than you think.”

Unfortunately, this golden age couldn’t last forever. Five years after the start of New XKit, the React dash came to crash the party. This complete rewrite of Tumblr’s frontend was a massive improvement in terms of future engineering and modernity, but New XKit had wrapped around Tumblr’s old code like a parasitic vine and would take irreparable damage from being disentangled. In simple terms, nearly every extension broke overnight. With @staff’s help, we were able to mitigate some of the damage, but the writing was on the wall. Most of New XKit’s extensions were broken and most of the team now had day jobs and obligations. This time there wouldn’t be two dorks writing code, forgoing sleep, and frantically recruiting a team to pull New XKit into working order. Instead, we were gifted something better, something that was designed from the ground up to be a good time for everyone involved. We got XKit Rewritten, the unparalleled effort from @april, the new talent from last paragraph who had only been improving since I last mentioned her. This new addon had all the most important features of New XKit with none of the accumulated cruft. New XKit could finally rest.

Today, ten years on from the first build of New XKit, I’d like to thank everyone who made this journey a possibility. First, I want to single out the people who made up the original core New XKit team: 0xazure, @blackjackkent, @xumbra, ChuckL, @consensual-blathering, finagle, @nightpool, @april, @invalidcards, and Wolvan. You all rocked this! Thank you for helping guide this ponderous project in a good direction. I hope you found it as educational and inspiring as I did! Second, thank you to all of the other contributors! In the interest of brevity, I’ll defer to GitHub’s full list but I’d especially like to thank @transienturl for their recent herculean efforts to make sure New XKit can receive critical updates in the future. We couldn’t have done it without all the people who volunteered their time, thank you for choosing us to help! Finally, I’d like to thank everyone who used New XKit. Your passion for the project is what kept it going. I hope that all the bugs you encountered were at least somewhat comedic. And of course, thank you, dear reader, for making it this far!

Deprecating New XKit

Hi all, it's been a while!

tl;dr: You should use XKit Rewritten, it's new, shiny, and getting consistent updates. Get it from here: https://addons.tumblr.com/post/661324873572974592/xkit-rewritten. If you want to customize the appearance of Tumblr you should use the built-in settings or Palettes for Tumblr. You shouldn't rely on New XKit, it's old and busted.

Around four years ago, April, a core contributor to New XKit, started the XKit Rewritten and wider @addons projects to create a modern alternative to the already somewhat moldy New XKit. This was with our complete support, and many members of the New XKit team now also help out with XKit Rewritten and other addons.

Chrome and Firefox have both phased out support for older extensions, requiring challenging workarounds to install New XKit. It's become very clear that anyone who is still using New XKit would really have a better time using XKit Rewritten, Palettes and Outbox for Tumblr, and the couple XKit-inspired core Tumblr features.

If you continue to use New XKit for some key part of your Tumblr workflow be warned that it's past the end of its digital lifespan. Despite the name, New XKit is a crumbling old cathedral. You can still walk around in it if you really want to, but it has been fenced off for safety and a brick might fall on your head.

One key difference we'd like to highlight is that XKit Rewritten intentionally doesn't have a Blacklist feature, leaving it to Tumblr's native post filtering functionality. If you still need the specific functionality of New XKit's Blacklist, you can keep it installed alongside XKit Rewritten. Click here for a list of other frequently asked questions.

To summarize: Get XKit Rewritten here: https://addons.tumblr.com/post/661324873572974592/xkit-rewritten. It's like New XKit but designed for modern Tumblr and consistently updated. New XKit will still be around for anyone who really needs it but is a much buggier experience.

Thank you all very much for using New XKit! On behalf of the whole team it's been a great time with all of you here on [tumblr].

[numbersq-blog]

Don’t Cry Over Spilled Ice Cream

Part 2 of genderbent, Billy Batson -> Lilly Batson

Back in the 50s a whole city disappeared overnight, Fawcett city, gone with out a trace. There are many conspiracy about what happened to the the town’s people and their beloved hero, Captain Marvel.

Captain Marvel had been one of first major heroes of her time, even though she was station in Fawcett, Marvel could be around the world helping people regardless of color, gender and class. Marvel could be saving people from natural disasters, standing with people in protest, and being a source of happiness that everyone admired.

For all that she did her name would always be remembered throughout history.

So when the justice league learned that Fawcett city magically reappeared along with the hero captain Marvel let’s just say they were very excited to meet her, but Batman made them wait a week before coming in contact with anyone there as he sent in spy drones.

They’re lucky the government had the same idea.

So on the week came to an end, it was decided that Superman would be the one much to the envy of Wonder Women and Flash and (Batman).

Superman was nervously excited as he flew around Fawcett , looking for Captain Marvel. He did stop some locals to ask where he could find her, but Clark noticed something weird about how they referred to Captain Marvel as Miss Captain or lady Marvel, one guy even called her woman marvel.

He had read a history book on her about during her time as a hero that most people would usually replace the Captain or Marvel with a feminine honorific.

Superman: “(on the league comm) so yeah it must be awful having everyone get your name wrong”

Wonder Woman: “ it seems as if they do it on purpose” her voice holding some distain

Batman: “Marvel is a hero from the late 40s to early 50s, it to be expected that the people referred to her hero name with a such honorific”

WW: “it’s disrespectful, if she wanted to be miss captain or whatever she would have made that her hero name”

Flash: “Speaking of Captain Marvel have you found any traces of her, like are we sure she’s still alive?”

Superman: “she is, apparently she was the one who brought back Fawcett city from a time bubble, at least that’s what the local say”

Flash: “time bubble?”

Superman: “no idea either, but last week when Fawcett appeared back she told the whole city that they were stuck in time bubble for the last 70 years”

Flash: “yikes, I can’t imagine how everyone is feeling”

Superman stop his search and really thought for a moment, citizens he talked to seemed calm as they explained everything but how scared must have been, imagining about what to there friends and family yet they seemed calm but were they really?

WW: “Superman are you still there?”

Superman: “yeah, I’ll keep looking”

???: “HEY YOU WITH THE RED UNDERWEAR”

Superman: “ITS NOT UNDERWEAR!” Yelled out of reflex.

WW: ?

Batman: ?

Flash: ?

Superman: “ I’ll call you back”

.

.

Superman: “ how can I help you Citizen?”

???: “ I heard you were looking for Captain Marvel, why?”

Superman: “ I’m asking her if she would like to be part of the justice league, wait you don’t know what the justice league is, it’s basically a group of heroes, and we would like to ask her to join us so we can both help each other”

???: “each other?”

Superman: “ with the whole bubble thing, I believe that the city may need some help adjus-“

???: “ and if she doesn’t join you, you won’t help us”

Superman: “nonono, we’ll still help, but we would like to offer her a place among the justice league”

???: “……… there is an ice cream parlor on the west side called Hero Treats, she likes going there……bye….” * walking away,fast*

Superman: “……THANK YOU!” *flies away fast*

???: “Lilly’s gonna kill me”

-

-

-

Superman: “ where is it? Where is it?…….there!”

The ice cream parlor was found and just a few buildings over was Captain Marvel sitting on the ledge with an ice cream cone.

Superman: * quick fan girl squeal, cough*

.

.

Clark approaches from behind

Superman: *Don’t mess this up*, “excuse me miss”

Captain Marvel: * Doesn’t respond and rubbing her head”

Superman: “..miss? I’m from the justice league”

Cap: "please…you're being to loud"

Superman: “loud? *looks around confused* Miss? Miss? Miss?

Cap: "please" * rubbing her head with both hands, regardless of one being occupied by an ice cream*

Superman: Miss Miss Miss

Superman: *OK she’s still not responding. Maybe I should try calling her what the locals call her and if she doesn’t like being called that like Wonder Woman suggested I’ll simply ask what she would rather be called. Nothing can go wrong.*

Superman: *inhales “MISS CAPTAIN MARVEL”

What Superman didn’t realize at that moment is that Captain Marvel really was done with being called the wrong name.

Cap: “That’s Not My NAME!”

Superman had to admit that the ice cream parlor had very nice ice cream but but he preferred the strawberry ice cream he got over the Rocky Road that was thrown at him.



[pompillar]

"You wanna know what I think?"

Sequel to "I've had it up to here with you!"

After a certain point it starts to get a little risque so minors shoo!

As the time got closer to 6 she fiddled with making her room look nice, making sure there was enough space for multiple ghouls to be, and that anything incriminating or embarrassing was put away. She knew it would be crowded no matter what. Thankfully her quick clean up found her with more chairs than she remembered the cathedral having. Maybe she should receive her guests in the actual chapel? There's enough pews... but there's still a massive gaping hole in the floor and who knows how many more waiting to be uncovered.

6 on the dot came around and there was a gentle knocking on her door. Luna stood quickly and walked over, unsure what she would find. Pulling the door open she was met with a few ghouls, Haku the one who knocked at the front.

"Hey, mind letting us in?" He smiled at her, the look in his eyes soothing her nerves.

"Uh yeah..." She stepped back and out of the way and was still shocked despite knowing how many of them were there.

Sho led Leo and Alan into the small kitchen on the other side of the room, all three men carrying large containers through the door.

Subaru and Kaito weren't far behind, bringing smaller containers with them.

Haku sat a small box by the bathroom door, shifting away as Leo reappeared and placed one of his own beside it.

Lucas stood off to the side awkwardly, Tohma beside him.

Ritsu filed in and made a beeline towards her, holding out a contract with a full set of 20 signatures. "Proof that we will all be civil while here."

She took the contract and started to read over it, having learned enough jargon from Ritsu after being dubbed his business partner that she could parse it easily enough. "Wow... this is impressive. And incredibly thought out. Thank you..."

Jiro and Yuri entered next, the doctor locating the Frostheimers and finding the furthest spot from them. Jiro gave her a robotic looking wave from his spot beside Yuri.

Haru, sans Peekaboo, was followed by Towa and a very annoyed Ren. Towa's arms were full of flowers and he nudged Ren with his foot. The first year grumbling as he put out the vases he had been carrying on every surface he could find. Towa went to work arranging immediately. And while many of them had no idea Zenji was following Towa around the room, suggesting which flowers would be better with each other.

Rui, Ed and Lyca came next, Rui carrying what looked like a luggage case. Lyca had a sketchbook in hand, looking determined. Edward found the comfiest looking chair and took a seat.

Glancing around she frowned, "We're missing a few..."

"Get your ass in there, you already agreed!" She knew that shrill tone anywhere.

"It's cramped! I'm going back!"

Ritsu leaned out the door, "Captain you signed the contract. Do you go back on your word so easily? Didn't you want to apologize to our inspector?"

The grumbling became a frustrated shout, "Fine! Move!" Taiga slunk into the room, hands stuffed in his pockets, followed by Romeo who looked irate.

Her eyes flickered to Tohma.

"You know how he is," The blond spoke softly and suddenly a blue portal opened, "Always wants to make a special entrance."

Jin stepped through and the portal closed behind him. But not before he brought a large box with him. Bringing it straight to her bed he sat it at the foot and looked into her eyes, "Well... we're all here it seems."

She nodded, "Yeah. I didn't think this place could fit so many people." Looking around she saw some tension thick enough it could be tangible. She inhaled softly, "Alright. If anyone gets too heated or irritated you can go through that door and hang out in the chapel for a bit to cool off."

Ren tried to make a quick exit only for Haru to put a hand on his shoulder and squeeze.

"So you've read our letters." Rui stepped up to the front, "It took us a lot to put this together so I hope it's up to your standards. We're planning to pamper you tonight. You have all the control here."

Haku added on, "Anything you don't like you can tell us to leave. We already figured at least one of us would get kicked out. You have the right to kick anybody out at any time."

Jin sighed, "And now the part we're all dreading..."

Tohma took over, "We collectively decided that it would be beneficial to clear the air so to speak. So please, tell us your grievances with us. I know you said we were all to blame, but we want to know what we've done. If you don't tell us how will we fix it?"

Luna stared in shock, "You... you want to hear what I have to say about each of you? As in what bothers me about you guys? Are you sure you want that?"

"We're big boys. We can handle it!" Haru laughed, "You can start anywhere. We're all ears for you."

She bit her lip and glanced at Taiga, then to Jin, then over to Ren, to Towa, and then Yuri when he spoke.

"If you're concerned about your safety don't be. No one brought their artifacts. We made sure certain people didn't bring auxiliary weapons as well..."

Jiro continued, "Any stigma use, aside from those activated unconsciously, is prohibited during this evening. We all signed the paper."

Nodding she took a deep breath, "Okay. Alright, just... try not to get too mad at me? Or sad... that's another thing I really don't wanna see. You can feel your feelings but when you give me certain looks it feels like you're trying to guilt me." Letting out a sigh she pointed around the room, “Remember what you signed. I read the details. You can’t hold anything I say tonight against me later!”

The room was quiet as most of them nodded, all eyes on her, waiting for what she had to say.

"Jin," She watched a slight tick in his jaw. "I hate being called a servant. It makes me feel like you don't actually want me around, like you could replace me easily. You make it so hard to get to you, and when I do get there you're dismissive. I always feel like you don't even like me because you hide your own feelings so deep you can't connect with people. The errands and chores you send me on are so bullshit. I don't have time to wash your shirts. I have better things I could be doing with my time. Like finding a way to break my curse. I understand you've been hurt before, but if you don't show me that you trust me even a little bit I won't be able to trust you. I just want... some respect I guess. Some type of acknowledgment that I'm not just the dirt beneath your feet."

He looked gutted, eyes wide for a moment as he gaped.

"Tohma," Not giving him a chance to respond she moved on. "You're difficult to read, and it's hard for me to have to decipher your mind games. I get that you have a lot to do, more than you'll ever show or admit. You make me feel like I can't be trusted with how much you tend to quiz me or play games with me. When we've played chess I almost feel like it's the most genuine you've ever been with me. And maybe your games make you feel smart, above people, or something like that. But I want to know that who I'm talking to is actually who you are. Be more genuine with me, be vulnerable. I am here to help you, not just the academy."

His eyes were equally wide at her admissions. Schooling his face he nodded.

"Lucas," There was a smile to her face. "You give everything you do 110 percent. But you tend to lose sight of things. You want to protect and defend so badly that sometimes you don't notice yourself getting hurt. And sometimes that hurts more than if I got hurt. It feels like you're reckless and you don't care enough about yourself to care when you're injured. I want you to try and remove those blinders that give you tunnel vision. Because I think you'll be so much stronger once you do."

He touched a hand to his chest, mulling her words over.

"Kaito," Another soft smile. "You're so sweet and energetic. The only issue is how much you don't believe in yourself. You constantly try to flirt with me, take me on dates, shoo other people away even though it never works. You're a coward, but you're aware of it at least. What I want for you, what I want from you, is to try and be more confident. How am I supposed to feel when the guy trying to show me how he feels thinks poorly of himself? Take some responsibility and try to unlearn this self loathing you have. I promise it's much easier when you do... I know from experience."

His eyes watered as he nodded, trying to stifle his sobs.

"Alan," Looking over to the man she sighed, "You're standoffish, you're a little hardheaded, you can't quite figure out how things work if you can't take them apart and put them back together. You take so much burden onto yourself that it's hard to get anything from you that's not never ending work. I want you to rely on me more. Yeah, I can't fight or really defend myself, and you always say it's dangerous to be around you. But I rarely feel safer on a mission than when I'm by your side. Please stop pushing me away. I want to be around you."

Looking shaken by the admission he stared daggers into the floor boards.

"Sho," Her eyes landed on him. "There's so many things you're good at. I have fun around you. I almost forget where we are. But at the same time you feel distant. Like you're only letting me into the first room and the rest of the house is locked. I'm sure you've had hardships too. But despite those I want to be able to see you, the Sho beneath the funny, creative, smart man that rides a motorcycle and cooks better than established chefs. I want you to show me the rest of you. I promise I can handle it."

Staring at her with his mouth agape there was a good few minutes he didn't seem to breath.

"Leo," She paused as she met those golden eyes daring her to go on. "I can't lie. You've been one of the hardest ghouls to deal with. Every step I take around you feels like the wrong one. You even tricked me into doubting myself. That my ability didn’t work all the time. You lied to so many people to get me away from you. There were times I wanted so badly to tell you to go fuck yourself. Actually, you know what, go fuck yourself Leo. All the times I thought I made progress and you just bulldozed my confidence. Or used my abilities without any regard for me. Or pushing me away while calling me stupid or useless. You have nerve but do you deserve to? What I want is for you to think about how your actions affect other people. Be kinder, hell, just be kind. Stop being so fake to me. If you wanna say you hate me just fucking say it instead of stringing me along and pretending to be my friend. The worst part is that I still can't find it in myself to hate you. Because somehow I can tell there's a glimpse of someone under all that bullshit that isn't a total asshole and actually cares about people."

He hissed under his breath and murmured, "Why is mine twice as long..." Alan cut his eyes at the vice captain and shut him up instantly.

"Haru," Taking in his confident pose she smiled, "Before I go into this can I ask who's taking care of Jabberwock right now? Especially Peekaboo."

"Oh don't you worry your pretty head about that. I have someone who's real good with the animals there and had a free evening who agreed to help out for no charge!" He added on quietly, "Mostly no charge... I'm gonna have to haul ass to finish all those assignments for her class."

Nodding she started again, "Haru. You're always so busy. No matter what you've got your hands full, your pockets empty and a lot of hope. It's inspiring really. But you have a few issues... you ignore your own health and safety for the sake of others. Going so far as to use your stigma to the point you break. And you're not free of blame here. If you could talk to another house nicely you might be able to get food scraps delivered and not have me make a trip out of my way. I don't mind helping sometimes. It just becomes so much with everything else. I feel like you some days with how thinly I'm stretched. I want... I want you to trust people enough to take a break. Not just one night off and then busting your ass again the next day. A real break. You're not the only one who can do it."

He bit his bottom lip and looked away.

"Towa," She chuckled at the shocked look on his face. "You're not free from this either. You always try to be so cute and innocent looking. But you have your own problems. Waiting until someone begs you to help when you know you can is so irritating. Yes, we need you to help. Not when it's already desperate times, when you know you can do it. And you always go straight to intimidating and using lightening on things when you're upset. I want you to work on communicating better. Not everything can be solved with violence. Learn to regulate your emotions internally and maybe you can solve things peacefully."

Pouting he made a sad little humming sound.

"Ren," Seeing him flinch when multiple eyes turned on him she sighed, "What can I say? You're difficult for a different reason. Everything is a negative with you. I know you hate things that are hard, or require you to do things, or use your brain for more than crunching numbers and game strategies. But sometimes I need you to lock in. You check out so easily that trying to get you to even talk to me is a chore. I want you to do the same as Towa, work on communicating better. Stop complaining when it doesn't go the easy way. Swallow your pride and step up when you know it's something you can do. Work and play go hand in hand, one without the other is unbalanced. I know you can do it, I believe in you."

His face was red as he looked at his feet.

"Taiga," She paused as they made eye contact, his green eyes dull in color but sharp in attention. "There's not enough time in a day for me to go over everything here. So let's start with the first one, stop pointing guns and pulling knives on me. I get that you don't always remember me, and that's irritating but I can work with that. I don't know if you really can't remember or if you just have facial blindness some days. And I can't say I understand you because no one is willing to go into the details of the clash with me, but I know it affected a lot of you negatively. One day I hope you'll trust me enough to tell me what happened." She bit her lip, "Your emotional state flips like a switch and becomes hard to manage, I never know how you'll react to what I say. And when you do react amicably and remember me it's still not great. You ask me to carry your bag, or be a pillow, or just call me a dumbass. I know you'll hate this but it's a lot like Jin. What I want is for you to try to work on what's going on inside your head. Maybe seeing Yuri about it, if he's comfortable with that. Be less argumentative and more willing to help out. You're the captain around Sinostra but I've seen Romeo do more in that aspect than you. I just want you to be more stable. Not in a way that I want to control you, more like I want to see you grow to be a better version of you."

He raised a brow at her, foot tapping against the floor.

"Romeo," There was another sigh. "I can try to keep yours short but let's face it... You and Leo are on the same wave length. If you're not running me ragged with silly little courier jobs you're berating me to my face. Calling me stupid, calling me plain, saying I have no fashion sense, which is rude there's a uniform to follow here you don't even know what my fashion sense is like because my wardrobe is back home. Your temper is so explosive that no matter what anyone says you can find something to be mad about. I get that you're stressed but taking it out on people who are trying to help you is going to push them away. I need you to try and relax more, work on what to do when you get angry, that's not yelling at people or threatening them. Maybe I'd be more interested in helping you if you weren't a landmine I can step on with one wrong word."

His face was turning red from the force of holding in the outburst that boiled under his skin.

"Ritsu," She laughed when he looked surprised. "Yes you're in this too. You're always prepared for anything we run into. And you quite literally use yourself as a shield to protect me. But there's a time and place to do your job and to play. You're the opposite of Ren, work play balance is important. Stop trying to charge people for wanting to hang out with you under the guise of consultation. Making friends is scary yes, it's hard to know if they'll like you, but you have to give them a chance. What I want from you is to try and unwind sometimes. Remember that you're at school, not an office, and try to have fun. Not everything has to be work all the time. You could burn yourself out if you keep this up for too long."

His eyes were comically wide and a hand was placed over his chest.

"Subaru," Seeing how nervous he was she gave him a smile. "Relax, I can tell you're grinding your teeth again. There we go, that's better. You tend to be one of the easiest ghouls to work with. Always hospitable and never rude to me. That's not where your problem lies. You have low self confidence, you're constantly apologizing for things you don't need to, you keep up a mask to hide your true feelings. You don't think people can handle the real you beneath the actor, or that people won't like you. But if you never open up how can they even try? I want you to work on being more honest with yourself and with others. Don't apologize for enjoying yourself, indulge every once in a while. Life is too short to avoid doing all the things you like."

He glanced at the floor nervously, gripping one of his arms tight.

"Haku," She watched the amused smirk on his face slowly disappear. "I could leave it at you're a terrible flirt and move on but that would be mean. You've helped me since I first got here, guided me, given me advice. And through all of that I don't think I've really gotten to know you. Everything is about someone or something else. You turn the focus away from yourself every time. I want to know you Haku, I want to know about you, what you like, what you don't like, what makes you mad, what makes you happy. Open up to me so I can see who you are under the helpful tease you masquerade as."

Wide yellow eyes locked onto her, clearly a bit shaken.

She paused for a second and stared into the empty air.

Zenji floated beside Haku and Subaru, "It's alright my dear. I'll hear your words later when it's only those privy to my existence around."

Snapping back to her task she stared at the cozy chair in the corner. "Edward, just because you're a centuries old powerful vampire does not give you immunity." She rolled her eyes at the mirth in his, "You're a problem ghoul for so many reasons. Constantly keeping information to yourself, not doing your job as captain, making Rui do basically everything for you. Not to mention all the passes you make at me after our first interaction where you called me plain and lacking sensuality. Rude. What I want from you is harder than most because you're older and not as open to change. You need to give me and the other ghouls something, the benefit of treating us like equals and not like funny little ants in a jar. You're so easily amused watching others struggle and it sucks. Take some responsibility, quit using being an old man as an excuse, and step the hell up when you're needed. You can't just rot away in bed every day and expect things to be okay."

He hummed softly and nodded, still looking amused.

"Rui," She smiled at the sudden nervous look on his face. "I really wish you weren't cursed so I could hold your hand while I tell you this. You're so helpful, sweet even though you're super flirty, I know I can talk to you when I'm stuck feeling down. Though you have your own issues. You're complacent, like you've given up on your own curse but you're still trying to help me break mine. And it hurts to see you so defeated, I've seen behind your little persona before, and I saw you for you. It made me want to help you more, and despite that you still take on any task that comes your way. I know you can't sleep and you need to do things but sometimes I wanna see you relax. You're so busy doing things for other people when was the last time you did something for yourself? I want you to be more selfish. Don't ignore your own needs for others."

Taking in a shaky breath he looked down, hiding his face behind his bangs.

"Lyca," Watching him flinch she pouted. "I'm not angry at you. Just let me say some things. You're trying so hard to catch up with everyone else. This is a very strange place to you and you've done so well trying to adapt to it. To learn about human society and coexist, it's hard even for humans sometimes. But there's always things we can do to improve. You're a little rough around the edges, and you tend to scare people off when you're too rough. You pick fights really easily because you have strong opinions and morals. Those aren't bad things, but you have to learn to control it a little more. I have strong opinions but you don't see me growling and baring my teeth at people who oppose them. Maybe I should with some of you though... Anyway I want you to work on your emotions. Try to find healthy ways to release your anger that aren't fighting. Maybe look into more free form art? Your sketches are great, maybe you could find a way to vent some feelings into it."

He pouted, glaring at a spot on the wall.

"Yuri," He jumped as she laid eyes on him. "You're brilliant. You know how to save lives and make them better. I'm not just saying it to make you feel better before I go in on you. I do believe that. That being said you have some flaws to work on. You have a freeze response to panic and trauma. And it can cause problems. You're abrasive when questioned because you see it as being challenged. The bravado you have is just a mask to hide the shy, kind man underneath and protect him from being hurt again. And thank you for being brave enough to come here even when you have so many reasons not to want to be in this room with certain people. I'd like to ask the brilliant doctor Yuri Isami to work not only on being more humble but not insulting people to make himself feel better. You can be confident without putting people down in the same breath, let your actions speak for themselves and not need to use others as pedestals to rise higher. You're enough."

There was a hiccup that he tried to stifle, hiding his red face and teary eyes in Jiro's arm.

"And Jiro," She smiled as his face didn't change at all. "One of the ghouls I see most often, but feel like I know the least about. You're clinical and come off as apathetic. And you've been through a lot, people don't realize how much, I don't think Yuri even knows all of it. But you show no signs of distress. And that worries me sometimes. While I do see little cracks here and there, like a tiny smile or a chuckle when I get scared of something you find mundane, or when you startle yourself laughing at stag beetles fighting, I see Jiro in those moments. I want to see more, maybe that's selfish when you should be working on recovering from your illness and injuries, but those little moments are so precious to me because I see the Jiro who enjoys life underneath it all. I want you to work on trying to open up more, be a little more vulnerable with me at least? I want to know who you are on the inside."

He blinked slowly, eyes a fraction wider. A shudder went down his back and he glanced around.

Zenji had floated towards him and hovered there, trying not to let his tears overwhelm him. "That was beautiful my dear! You truly reached out to him with everything you had!"

Her smile was fond as she sat back on her nicely made bed. "So... now that I've said my piece, what's next? I'm open to hearing you out or just listening if-" Startled by the sudden movement she held herself still as Jin fucking Kamurai approached her bed and kneeled before her like a knight. "Huh?" Her eyes were wide as he spoke.

"I can't... can't apologize enough for how I made you feel." He looked pained as he forced himself to make eye contact, "If you're willing to forgive me... I'll make it up to you however you want. I won't call you that again. It was never supposed to be more than a joke, and I know that my jokes are... not as easy to read anymore. I'm sorry for the distress I've caused you. But," He stood slowly, making himself the king once more. "Don't ever feel like I could easily replace you, or that I don't like you, or that I think you're beneath me. Don't push your own misconceptions onto me like that. You don't get to decide how I feel."

She swallowed roughly, "I... thank you... you don't know how much that means to me."

Tohma appeared at his side and held out his hand, taking Luna's gently. "I should apologize as well. I never knew it felt like I was being so closed off. Please tell me whenever you feel that way. I'll rectify it immediately. There's just no way I'd ever want you to think that you're less than I."

Her smile softened and she gave his hand a squeeze, "Thank you."

Lucas and Kaito made their way over, the sudden growing crowd pushing Jin to leave her side. The white haired man gestured with a jerk of his head to the window. Tohma picking up on it quickly followed him, the window was opened and the two stepped out onto the roof and closed it behind themselves.

“Luna…” He took her hand and his amethyst eyes bore into her own. “I swear to you that I will try with everything in me to be better. But I cannot promise that I won’t continue to throw myself in front of you when danger is near. I would make another pact just to defend you if it came down to it.”

Her eyes widened, “Luca you really don’t need to do that. In fact please don’t. I don’t want to know what happens if you make a pact with more than one demon…” She frowned, “And I feel like you missed my whole point…”

The blond sat down beside her and looked at his feet, his eyes still watery, “Even when you’re telling us to get our shit together you’re still so nice. It’s not fair.” He leaned against her arm subconsciously, “I want to be better for you. I wanna break this stupid curse so you never have to worry about it again. I’m going to try harder… so please keep believing in me. Even if I am a coward.”

She reached up and stroked Kaito’s head soothingly, “Shh. It’s okay. I know you will. Whenever you put your mind to something you do great things.”

Lucas also reached for Kaito, but mostly in concern as he noticed the small group that approached from behind. He pulled his friend up and shifted to the side, “Come on. Let’s go get her a plate of those sweets you made.”

Looking up she met Alan’s unflinching steel eyes. She waited, nearly holding her breath from the intensity of his gaze.

“I… am not good with words. But… if you really want to be near me even with what you know I can do… I can’t tell you no. I’ll do whatever I can to protect you. So… please don’t take anything you said back.” He stood before her in that same awkward stance, arms to his sides like he didn’t know what to do with them, hands clenched into fists, almost as if he was prepared to fight.

She smiled and stood up, taking one of his hands and holding it gently between her own. “Thank you Alan. That means a lot to me. And trust me, there’s no way I’ll be taking it back.”

Sho cleared his throat, “So… you think you can handle all of me?” His brow quirked up as he watched her start to turn red. “I’m kidding, chill. Jeez… you probably should have worded that better Senpai. You’ll make guys think some crazy things if you aren’t careful…”

Luna released Alan’s hand and pouted, “I wasn’t expecting you to be dirty about it… how come it feels like you aren’t taking it seriously?”

He grinned, “Well most of what you said was praise anyway. So I don’t have as much homework as some of these guys do.”

“Typical Sho…” With a sigh she waited, her eyes landing on a very irritated Leo. The wait was long and silent, he didn’t move, and she didn’t ask him to. What felt like ten minutes had passed before Alan turned and grabbed him by the arm, hauling him to stand before her.

“It’s your turn. Don’t be rude.”

“Let go of me you fucking gorilla! I don’t owe her shit!” He wrenched his arm from Alan and glared at him, then turned the same heated daggers on her. “I’m not apologizing.”

“You don’t have to. You just have to listen.” Shrugging she looked away, clearly a bit let down by his answer.

Leo snarled, “I don’t have to listen to you! You’re just a normie who got cursed and dropped into something way out of their league. You’re not my problem.”

Sho cleared his throat again to get their attention, “Leo. You keep saying all that shit but you were helping orchestrate this whole plan right from the start. Just give it up, just for tonight at least.”

He glared at Sho, “Traitor…” Turning back to her he refused to make eye contact. “Whatever. I guess you don’t suck as much as I first thought. I mean, you did manage to bring a Kamurai to their knees. You must be able to do something right.”

“Leo…” Alan grumbled behind him.

“Uuuugh! Fine! I’m sorry!” His cheeks were pink from either embarrassment or rage she didn’t know. “You look so normal that having all this power was pissing me off okay? You shouldn’t be able to do what you do so easily! But you do it anyway. And maybe I just didn’t like that okay? You assholes happy now?” He crossed his arms and stomped towards the chapel, disappearing into the other room.

Luna chuckled softly and shouted after him, “Thanks Leo! I guess that’s the best I’m getting out of you!” Looking back she sat on the edge of her bed and shook her head.

Sho and Alan both sighed and muttered apologies as they move towards the kitchen area.

Before Haru could take a step forward Kaito and Luca reappeared with a small plate of cookies and mini brownies. The blond handed it to her, “I hope you like these. I remember you said you liked matcha so I tried a recipe for matcha cookies.”

“Oh these look awesome. Thank you Kaito!” She took the plate and smiled, watching him walk over and take a seat by her desk.

“Enjoying your personal show?” Haru stepped up to her, Towa not far behind.

She smiled and bit into a cookie, “Mhm. I have to say it’s a little bit of a power trip… it might not be good to give me this much free reign. I might start telling you guys off more often if this is what I get for it.”

The captain of Jabberwock laughed and sat to her right on the bed, “So it’s my turn to own up. I’m sorry I worry you. I’m just so used to being up at the front that not using my powers is just beyond me. And yeah I get the whole break thing… it’s just hard to imagine these two being able to handle it without me.”

“Like I said, interhouse relationships should be stronger. I know you guys won’t tell me what happened and that this night is an exception. But if you can try to be more amicable towards each other you can lessen the burdens on all of you. Maybe you’ll be able to convince someone to be a courier for food scraps, or a helping hand with the animals, or someone to safe guard Peekaboo while you’re away. There’s options. You just have to find a way to work with them.”

He gave her a soft smile, “I wish it was as easy as you make it sound. Maybe the second years and first years will be able to pull it off but I think us third years are beyond reconciling.”

“Haru Sagara, that’s quitter talk. You better fix that.” She nudged him playfully, “But thank you, even though you didn’t actually say you’d work on your problems…”

They were both surprised as Towa flopped across their laps with a whine.

“Wh- Towaaaa! What are you doing?” Haru floundered a bit, trying to make sure his friend didn’t roll off the bed.

“Dandelion~” He looked up from where his head was resting on her lap, “I’m sorry for making you mad. I’ll try to be better. But you know it’s hard when Wolfsbane is so lazy.”

She smiled down at him and pet his hair, “You have to try harder. And maybe try to be a little more gentle with things? You’re like an untamed animal sometimes, and it can be a little scary.”

Pale eyes widened, “I don’t ever want to scare you Dandelion!”

There was shock and intrigue around the room as most had never heard the ghoul speak until now.

“I know. And that’s why you’ll try.” She continued stroking his fluffy hair as another ghoul stepped up. His stature and bad posture gave him away before she looked up.

“Hey…” Ren rubbed the back of his neck, a scowl on his face as he fought to find words with so many eyes on him.

“Hey yourself.” She continued to pet Towa’s hair, feeding him one of the cookies from the plate when he showed interest.

Ren swallowed around a lump in his throat, “...Fuck. What the hell am I supposed to say?” He closed his eyes and sighed heavily.

“Maybe start with an apology? That’s how the best reactions have started so far.” Haru chuckled at the annoyance on Ren’s face at his comment.

He grunted, “I’m sorry you’re wasting your faith by believing in me.” As Luna tried to interupt he continued, “I’m lazy, I hate doing things, I hate talking to people, I hate physical interactions. But it sucks less when it’s you… so I guess I’m saying thanks? For you know… trusting me even though I’m not really that great? God this is stupid. I can’t promise you anything! I’ll do what I can but if you aren’t there to bug me then I won’t try as hard!” His face was turning red as he rambled, “Not because I like your company or anything just because you’re annoying in a way I can’t ignore! An- why are you laughing?!” Ren was bristled like a scared cat.

She put a hand to her mouth trying to stifle the giggles. “So-sorry… you just… it’s just so Ren! Everything you said… it’s so on brand for you…” Calming herself she kept going, “Just know the next time you accuse me of being on my period when I’m irritated with you is the first time I try to make a man feel what a period actually feels like.”

Ren suppressed the shiver that ran down his spine at that, “Yeah… got it… but how-”

“You do know how close I am to the ghouls at Mortkranken right? I’m sure Yuri could make something that would simulate the pain very accurately.”

“Ren Shiranami did you really say that to her?!” Haru looked at him appalled.

“Wh-why are you getting mad at me?! She just threatened me!”

“And you said something rude and misogynistic to her! You’re a ghoul, you can handle whatever punishment she dishes out.” He frowned and stood up, taking Ren’s ear and dragging him by it.

“Owww! Hey! Let go of me you clown!”

Towa stood up and quickly hugged her, “I’ll make sure he does what he should Dandelion. And I promise I won’t use lightening on him.” Turning he smiled and followed Haru and Ren over to the corner where it seemed like Haru was already lecturing him.

Taking another mini brownie she popped it into her mouth and watched Taiga stalk to the side of her bed, stopping right in front of her, hands stuffed in his pockets as he stared her down. The typical lazy lean in his posture was missing, as was the signature grin. He turned and plopped down beside her, still silent. The other two Sinostra ghouls were close by, watching their captain like hawks.

The man let out a heavy sigh and flopped onto his back, grabbing her hand and tugging her down beside him. You could hear a pen drop as the room went quiet, watching in fear, jealously, anger, and intrigue.

“You coulda just yelled at me. That woulda been easier to deal with.”

Unbothered by his antics she hummed, “That’s what Romeo does. How often do you listen to him?”

He chuckled, “Got a point there.” Turning his head he met her eyes, really taking in the vibrant pink and reds in her irises. “I’m serious. I don’t care what I say after this. If I ever piss you off or make you think I’m actually gonna hurt you just tell me to go fuck myself. If I get annoyed when you say it then tell me you have permission. I should get the hint by then.” Taiga stared at her wide eyes and leaned in to press his forehead against hers, speaking softly. “I don’t trust any quacks enough to go let em poke around in my head. So sorry I won’t be doing that part. But I’ll try to be better for you… do I get anything in return if I improve?” His eyes lit up with that usual mischief.

Luna laughed and shook her head, a smile brightening her face, “Maybe. But it depends on how good you get. I might make you something nice. Like a sweater since you’re always so cold.”

He wrapped his arms around her waist, “Fuck that. Just be my personal heater instead. Way less effort.”

“Ahem!” Romeo shouted instead of actually clearing his throat, magenta eyes silently ripping into Taiga. There were several ghouls around the room glaring as well, some being held back by others. “You might want to rethink where you are before you start getting handsy you TGA!”

Taiga groaned and rolled towards the other side of her bed, facing away from them, “And you might wanna read the mood sometimes Lulu.”

The vice captain clearly had a hard time not blowing his lid at the comment but he stuffed his insults down and stepped up to the bed. “Now that he’s got his dirty claws out of you I can start.”

She giggled and sat up, smoothing her hair back, “Yeah. So Romeo, what do you have to say?”

“Maybe you have a point with the wardrobe comment. It seems like Darkwick didn’t even bother giving you more than the most basic plain clothes. So the next time you’re free and find yourself around Sinostra let me know. I can take your measurements and get you actual decent clothes to wear besides your uniform.”

Rui interjected, “As long as you keep the measurement taking professional!”

The man flustered and whirled around to point at him, “Mickey you shut your mouth! I didn’t mean it the way you would!”

“Romeo… this right here is the other thing I was talking about…” She drew his attention away from the smug ghoul standing in a corner by himself. “The ease at which you get angry is concerning.”

He inhaled deeply and released the breath slowly, “I am trying! To not get as angry that is.” Looking back at her he avoided meeting her gaze, “It’s not that I don’t take breaks or relax sometimes. It’s that I have to do everything if I want it done right. And-”

“Stop,” She watched him for a second, seeing the rage build from being cut off. “I’m not trying to annoy you. I get that you’re a perfectionist. But nothing is perfect, and nothing is forever, so sometimes you’re going to have to deal with good enough as your finish line.” Reaching out she took his gloved hand and held it gently, “Give a little more power to those around you to take the weight off your own shoulders. You have a captain and a first year to share responsibilities with. You know he’s capable, let Ritsu take something off your plate to lessen the burden.”

His face was red but this time it was clearly not anger. Coughing into his other fist he looked away, “I’ll think about it.”

Letting his hand free she smiled and held out the small plate to him, “Take a cookie and relax. The sugar might help you.”

Making a face he took one of the sweets from the plate and stood to the side taking a bite as Ritsu walked briskly up to Luna.

“Well, I certainly wasn’t expecting any of that.” He paused to collect his thoughts, “I am a paralegal. And I’m doing my job. So while I see your points I’m still undecided on how I will apply them. Perhaps you’re right, I am at school and not an office environment. But I must use my time wisely to prepare for my future.”

Watching him spin his wheels she propped her chin in her hand. “Ritsu… do you mind listening to me again?”

“Wh- why would I need to do that? I’ve re-”

“I know you recorded it. Replay it real quick and really listen to it.”

Doing as she said he brought the recorder to his ear and played that section back. His face went on a trip between his usual self assured smile to a flustered confused mess. “I… I have listened.”

“Mhm… and are you processing the words now?”

He nodded slowly and gave her a timid glance, “I… was unaware that people were merely trying to befriend me. I believe I’ll need to do some research to better understand where I’m making mistakes.”

She smiled in return, “There we go. Sometimes going over it again is useful right? You find things you missed the first time around.” Watching him stumble over her using his own words back at him she giggled, “Thank you Ritsu. I know you’ll work on it.”

As he retreated to Romeo’s side he was passed by Subaru and Haku, Zenji floating above them.

Subaru upon reaching her side instantly bowed low, “I’m saying sorry now so I can try to avoid saying it again. I’m so sorry Luna.”

Holding back a sigh she leaned forward, “Please get up Subaru. I hate seeing you bow like that.”

Sitting up he stared into her eyes, “...I’m so…” Biting his lip he inhaled sharply, “I’m already messing up…”

“Try again.”

He took a few breaths to try and clear his head. “Thank you. I want to give you an answer you’ll like. But I’m worried I’ll fall short of your expectations. So… instead of worrying about that… I’m going to say what I honestly want to say to you.”

Smiling she watched him with bated breath.

“You’re so many things I want people to see me as. You’re kind, you’re compassionate, you’re incredibly strong willed, you’re compelling, you’re humble about all of it, and at the end of the day you’re still a joy to be around like you haven’t been giving your all for the sake of others. And it’s all natural to you… and I think sometimes I’m jealous of that. That you don’t have to try to be any of those things. You just are. I’m so grateful that you care enough about me and everyone here that despite everything you’ve been through that you still want to even be near us.” He stopped himself and cleared his throat, “Was that self deprecating?”

Her cheeks had turned pink at how enthralled he’d seemed as he spoke, “A… a little bit yes.”

“I can’t promise you that I’ll be the same person if I listen to your request. And it will take time… but I hope that when you do see the me behind the mask that you’ll still want to be around me.” His eyes were distant by the time he finished his sentence.

She smiled, “Subaru… I’m still going to like you. Because you may think you’re not any of those things or that I do it effortlessly but both of those things are wrong. I’ve had to make myself be kind, make myself humble, make myself the person you see. There’s been effort, you just haven’t seen it because you didn’t know me then.”

“Thank you… uh… are you still hungry? I have some sweets and tea I can prepare for you.” Standing he barely dodged Haku moving closer.

“I’d love that.” As she went to speak suddenly Haku’s hand planted itself beside her on the bed and he leaned in, his face inches away from hers. She made a flustered noise and turned red, “H-H-Haku?!”

“You caught me huh Princess?” He smirked, “You’re right of course. I don’t really offer a lot of information about me. Maybe you think I’m hiding something but the truth is I’m just not all that interesting.” His eyes told a different story from how the slit pupil focused on her eyes like if they looked away it would wound him.

Zenji almost went into a fit but before he could even raise his voice Subaru cut in, “Haku. You’re too close,” A fan was opened with a flourish between their faces and the Hotarubi captain pushed the paper fan closer and closer until Haku was forced to step back. “Try to have a little more decorum.” There was a slight twitch in the corner of his mouth as he eyed the green haired ghoul.

“You took the words right out of my mouth Subaru! What on earth would possess you to invade a lady’s personal space like that?!” Zenji stood on Haku’s other side nagging him, “I know you’re a lout but you don’t have to show everyone in attendance that you are!”

Haku sighed, “My bad. I tripped on this huge box here,” Nudging the box Jin had brought with his foot he glanced over his shoulder to see the Kamurai heir give him an aggravated stare from his place by the window. When he and Tohma had gotten back he didn’t know.

Luna frowned, “Here we go again. Another cover up. Haku… I respect you and enjoy your company. But please, please stop going back on your advances. I’m so tired of you saying just kidding when I know you’re serious. I think everyone in this room knows you’re serious.”

Taken aback by the statement he cleared his throat, “Damn Princess… watch what you say. A guy might take it the wrong way.” He tugged at the collar of his shirt.

“Just say you mean you already Hakucchi!” Rui shouted from where he was trying to wait his turn to get into the kitchen area while avoiding contact.

“Oh don’t worry Rui I’m going to revisit that when you come up here in a minute!” Luna gave the blond a look and smirked at the flicker of fear on his face.

Haku knelt down beside her and took one of her hands, “I’ll try… to be more open about myself. Just don’t expect it to be easy for either of us.”

“Something about the ghouls? Easy? For me or them? Never!” She laughed at the wry smile he broke into before kissing her hand and following Subaru.

Luna stared at Zenji for a minute, wanting nothing more than to address him.

“I know dear, I know.” He bowed his head to her, “We’ll have a chance later.” Floating after the other Hotarubi ghouls he settled beside them.

She startled when another body dropped onto the bed beside her, “Whoa!”

“Hmm… it’s not quite as soft as mine. But it’s definitely better than sitting in that chair over there.” Edward had taken it upon himself to flop unceremoniously onto her bed.

“Glad you could join me instead of being stuck in bed rot mode.”

“I could never turn away when I know you’re suffering in agony in here all by your lonesome.”

“Yeah, we’ll talk about your letter later by the way. Next time give me a warning for what I’m about to be reading.” She turned her body to face him. “So… go on. I know you’re going to spin some pretty words together.”

He smiled softly at her, “Perhaps you’re right dear. I have been cooped up for quite some time. Darkwick makes it so easy to be comfortable here. As for my age, I assure you it’s no ploy. I truly do have aches and pains from the years I’ve lived. But I will do my best to try and achieve these lofty tasks you’ve set for me. I may have been a bit too jaded about you and these ghouls. Though there’s definitely still some surprises in store…”

“Cryptic bastard.” She reached out and fluffed his hair, “If you don’t try hard then I’m going to steal Rui and Lyca away from you for a whole week and make you deal with your own mess.”

“Darling you’re so cruel.” Despite his words the smile never left his face, leaning into her touch. “But if you ask me the cruelty only makes you that much sweeter.”

Rui could be heard asking people to move so as to avoid touch. “Okay that’s enough time for you Ed.” He walked up and winked at Luna, “You should roll him off your bed since you’ve already got one that won’t get up. Isn’t that right Tai?”

The redhead was currently curled against her pillows, not showing any sign of hearing them or if he did that he cared at all.

She sighed, “I would but I’m pretty sure Ed would be more annoying if I pushed him off.”

“Rui you shouldn’t joke like that, she might start to think you actually mean it.” The vampire pouted at him.

“I do.” The blond sighed and smiled at her again, “So… you really think all that?” When she nodded and returned his smile he continued, “Well… maybe I am complacent. I’ve tried and tried and hunted down everything that could possibly help me with this curse of mine. I’ve come to accept it as what I’ll have to live with. And being selfish? Now that doesn’t sound like a good thing to tell a guy who’s been trying to take you on a date since the first day he met you!”

“Do it.”

He faltered at the bold statement, “Uh come again?”

“I said do it. If you want to so badly then ask me outright and take me on a date. You and Haku both have no follow through and it’s been a little frustrating to be honest.”

His face was red as he tried to ignore the stares and bewildered looks from around the room. “Ah… I mean… you can’t put me on the spot here in front of all these other guys! I have to plan it and make sure everything is perfect first!”

She stared fondly at him, “Anything you do is going to be great Rui. You make sure of it.”

The blond groaned, “God… I wanna take your hand and lead you to the garden and pick flowers with you and make breakfast for you and-”

“Breathe Rui,” Her laugh was a chiming bell in his ears.

“Princess put him out of his misery already.” Haku chirped from where he was still being eyed warily by Subaru.

The reaper cursed ghoul sighed, “I wish more than anything I could just take your hand and hold it to my chest so you could feel how hard my heart is beating right now.”

“That’s the honest Rui I’ve seen before. Not the silly flirt. The genuine article.” She reached for him and smiled sadly as she let her hand drop. “I wish I could hold your face in my hands and tell you that everything is going to be okay.”

Lyca huffed loudly and moved around the blond, “You’re taking up too much time! The food is gonna get cold if you don’t hurry it up!” Stopping in front of Luna he stuffed his hands in his pockets.

“Hi Lyca,” She watched Rui step aside to try and calm himself.

“Hey…” He glanced away, looking surprisingly shy for someone who just butted into a conversation vying for his turn.

“So about what I said…”

“I’ll do my best. It’s hard… you don’t get it because you’re human. People here… they don’t like me. They’re scared of me. They don’t think I should be walking around out here. But I’m not dangerous!” His tone and volume lowered as he lost the bite to his words, “You know that… right?” If his ears were out they would be drooping.

Luna reached out for him, “Come here.”

He stepped closer and let out a shocked yelp as she tugged him down into a hug, pressing his face to her neck. “I know you aren’t. The only reason I was scared when you transformed was because I’d never seen you like that before and you looked like you were in pain. You could be dangerous if you wanted to be, but you choose not to be. And that’s what people aren’t seeing.” She stroked his hair softly, “I really want you to be able to make more friends. I’m sure Hotarubi has some type of art gathering sometimes right guys?”

Subaru perked up, “Oh, yes actually there’s a get together for the arts twice a month. We all share our current works and teach each other new techniques for our own crafts. It’s a very rewarding tradition that’s been in effect for years before I became a part of it. I could invite you sometime Lyca. I’m sure they’d all be in awe of your sketches.”

The werewolf was silent but nodded as he relaxed into Luna’s hold. “...You’re warm. Feels nice…” Was all he said after a minute of silence.

Giggling softly she took her hands back, “I’ll give you hugs whenever you want then.”

He nodded and stood back up, unbothered by the stares from around the room as he went over to Subaru.

A throat was cleared as one of the shorter ghouls stepped to her now. Yuri was trying to keep his usual demeanor but his face was already flushed and his gloves felt far too sweaty and restrictive. “Well… you were definitely right about some of what you said. Mostly the first part…”

“Mhm?” Watching him closely she tried to not grin at how hard he avoided eye contact.

“I suppose calling you a worm is… not quite appropriate. I believe you may be onto something as far as how I should address my patients…” He stumbled over his words, “H-however! I am not going to let you sit there and say I freeze or panic in hard situations!” Holding a finger up he pointed at her, “I have acted quite quickly in those moments!”

“Except for the Oui-cest-bon case.” Jiro added in a deadpan.

Flustered by his assistant he held back an undignified squawk, “I- there were circumstances at play!”

“Mhm. And this is what I’m talking about Yuri. You’re trying to play off the issues you caused. And while you weren’t trying to you still did freeze and it almost cost you Jiro.” She took his sleeve and tugged him closer, “And I know more than anyone that you wouldn’t be able to take that loss. He’s more than your vice captain, more than your patient, he’s your closest friend. The one that you trust more than anyone else. So if not for me, then try to be better for him okay?”

His face scrunched up and turned red again as he tugged his arm away from her, “I-I don’t need you to say all that! I wasn’t saying I wouldn’t try! It’s just… difficult.”

“I understand. You’re a very proud person. It’s hard to accept that you’ve made a mistake or caused problems. But the sooner you accept it the sooner you get to be a better doctor, a better friend, and a better person in general.” Luna smiled, “I meant what I said Yuri, you’re enough.”

Looking away he blinked hard and croaked, “I heard you the first time you… you…”

“Come on… say something that’s not an insult.”

“You… lady.” He finished with no bite and all the wind taken out of his sails.

She chuckled, “That’s a start. Okay, Jiro, it’s your turn before Yuri combusts.”

He stepped forward and leaned over to check Yuri’s face, “I don’t think he’s going to spontaneously combust but if that’s a possibility I should go get a med kit.”

“Why are you so close?!” Yuri shrilled and backed away to go back to his corner.

There was a tiny smile tugging at Jiro’s lips as he turned back to her.

“Alright, tell me what you think about what I said.”

“Well, it’s difficult to describe.” His eyes shifted up as he thought about it, “My heart rate increased, and my mouth became slightly dry. I finished my medication almost exactly before we arrived so it shouldn’t be an attack. Maybe something about being in here with all these other ghouls is affecting me?” Touching his thumb and forefinger to his chin he glanced at the unamused look on her face and that hint of a smirk was seen again.

“Jiro… the non medical opinion please.” Luna had to crane her neck to look up at him from where she sat.

He surprised her as he suddenly crouched down as if checking her vitals, “I want to make you happy by completing these goals you’re giving me. But I’m not sure if they’re realistic. The real me is someone I don’t remember. I lost a lot of myself in the coma. Yuri thinks there’s a link between my recent attacks and memory triggers that I’ve run into but it’s not easy to recreate so it’s just a theory. But if it makes you happy then I can try to be more… vulnerable? At least to you or Yuri. I can’t leave myself vulnerable to any germs though. My immune system is still shot.” Looking up at her he saw the telltale quirk of a smile, “Oh? Did I say something funny?”

“Yeah. Your sense of humor may be broken in Yuri’s standards but I find it refreshing.” She giggled and reached out to play with his hair, “Oh did you shower?”

“Mhm, Yuri insisted I clean myself up before getting here.”

“Your hair feels so soft.”

He leaned into her hand, “I’m glad you like it.”

As everyone settled she sat back again, “Okay. So that’s everyone. Now can I please ask a group question? About that last letter… I’ve been on enough missions with all of you to know your different hand writing so none of you can deny who wrote what. But what was that about ‘Your Ghouls’ at the end there?” Watching the crowd for any kind of tells she could see several flushed faces, a few turning their heads to avoid her gaze, and some ghouls staring into her eyes with purpose.

Jin answered first, “Isn’t it obvious? You’re mine. And that means I’m yours. It’s as simple as that.”

His vice captain turned to look at him with absolutely unfiltered disbelief on his face, “...Did you really just say that to a woman? Are you serious? Did you learn how to speak to women from bodice rippers?”

“What the hell is a bodice ripper?” He narrowed his eyes in confusion.

Edward laughed softly, “Hmm the little prince is bold. But can he back up what he says?” Sitting up he put an arm around Luna’s waist and spoke in a deep hushed tone in her ear, “I signed that knowing full well what I meant. I’m yours if only you’ll let me have you as well. And I think we both know what I’m willing to offer you. After all, I can tell by your scent alone that you’re still thinking about my personal letter to you.”

She squirmed a bit, eyes focused on the floor, “Ed…”

“Back off moth eaten casanova!” Lyca growled at the display and Ed released her.

Haku sighed, “Princess, you aren’t that naive, right? You know what we meant. At least I know I did. You want me to stop backing down right? I like you. More than just a normal infatuation. And I’m prepared to wait for an answer for however long it takes. I’ll be yours no matter who you choose, even if I can’t stand who it is.” His face was more serious than she thought she’d ever seen it when not on a mission.

Rui chuckled, “Hakucchi quit stealing my lines. Luna, I think I might honestly be head over heels for you. No flirty playboy thing, no pick up lines, just straight up. And even if we can’t touch, and it kills me to not be able to hold you, I’ll want you forever.”

She covered her face and peeked through her fingers, “Oh my god you guys are unfair going back to back like that. Stupid smooth talking pretty boys…”

Taiga shifted now, dragging her back to his side, “Hey Kitty Cat. I’m not letting these guys take you for themselves. Not when I’m willing to let you have anything you want from me. Hell, I barely sign papers for anyone but you. You realize how special that makes you to me right?”

“BTH quit touching her so casually!” Romeo fussed as he approached, “The priest boy is right. I think it’s quite obvious what we all meant. God knows some of these desperate fools aren’t subtle about it.” He glared over his shoulder at a certain blond.

Kaito flinched under Romeo’s gaze and grabbed hold of Luca’s sleeve. Causing the other to carefully push Kaito behind himself.

“Alright! Enough of you guys simping!” Sho pushed the kitchen door open, “Food’s done! Cap, bring that out here first, I’m getting the next set.”

Luna stared in shock at the amount of food that was brought out, all of it what she’d checked on the list. Rui had opened the case he’d brought in and set up his on the road mixology equipment. He got to work making both his usual drinks and mocktails for the less inclined to anomalous alcohol. Sho and Alan had set two folding tables out with all the food and plates and silverware. The light haired first year plated her food and brought it straight to her. “Here ya go Senpai.”

Taking the plate she looked up and blinked owlishly, “That’s… this is incredible. You made all this today?”

“Had some help. But yeah most of this was already cooked before we got here. Just had to reheat some stuff in your kitchen. Don’t worry, we’ll handle the dishes too.” He winked and stepped back to the table, “Alright you guys, go ahead and line up! I made enough for everyone cause I know some of us haven’t eaten since we got that text this morning. That means you Leo!” He shouted at the door to the chapel.

It opened slowly and the still very aggravated man stepped back into the room, phone in hand. “You know you don’t have to yell you asshole.” He held a hand over one of his ears as if he’d been listening the entire time. Of course he was who are we kidding?

As drinks and food were passed around and people started to eat the atmosphere became less heavy. They were starting to get more comfortable around each other, which of course some of the drinks helped a few of them.

Lyca found his way back to her side after finishing his food. The sketchbook was in his hands again, “Luna.”

She looked up to him, “Hey Lyca, what’s up?”

Sitting beside her he inhaled softly, “I have something for you. The blond gigolo helped me figure out what to give you but it’s all my stuff.” He looked nervous as he held the book out to her.

Luna raised a brow as she took it into her hand, noting that it wasn’t quite a sketchbook. It was actually a book of pages from one bound together with ribbon and metal rings. Opening it she stared, each page more beautiful than the last. Some of the pages were just her, rendered so well it was almost scary, other pages were filled with places around campus, and some off campus like the mansion they’d gone to for that mission. She got through to the last page and smiled, it was a drawing of her and Lyca sitting side by side on their favorite bench.

“Suba gave me the photo he took of us, I didn’t know he took one actually, but I used it to draw this.” Watching her he swallowed, “Do you like it?”

“Lyca, I love this. Your art is so wonderful. I’m keeping this forever!” She smiled, “But are these the originals? I feel like you should keep those.”

He shook his head, “Blond gigolo is ahead of you. He took the original ones and made these copies of them.”

“Good. I’d hate for something to happen and you not have them.” Luna stared at the book, a solemn smile taking over her face.

“Nothing’s gonna happen. You’re not gonna go anywhere. And if for some reason you do, nobody is allowed to take those away from you.” His eyes made it feel like there were no exceptions to what he said.

“Thank you Lyca. I love them.” She patted his head and laughed when he stood up and shook it like a dog.

“Don’t do that. It’s weird…” Wandering off towards the others he tried to keep his red face hidden.

Taking the book she tucked it into her nightstand drawer and sat back on her bed, watching the ghouls with a smile.

As soon as Taiga was finished with whatever he could stomach he came over and flopped back onto the bed, aiming for her lap as a pillow.

She snorted and ran a hand through his hair, “Not even asking?”

“Don’t have to.”

“It’s polite to ask.”

“When have I ever given a fuck about being polite?” He gave a toothy grin.

“Fair enough.”

Leo had disappeared again and she scanned the room for him.

“Looking for someone honor roll?” Apparently he had snuck up to her side without being seen at all.

Jumping she nearly clawed Taiga’s scalp and he hissed in return, “Leo what the hell?!”

He laughed, “Jeez, jumpy much? Anyway, get up. Follow me.”

“But I’m-”

“Leave the overgrown cat. He’ll find a different pillow.”

Taiga sat up and growled, “Where ya taking her brat?”

Leo held up his hands that were suspiciously wet and free of all jewelry. “To the bath. The one I had her fill out a list for. Are you seriously saying you forgot that part?”

“Oh I already took a shower-”

“That isn’t a bath. Get your ass up and follow me.” He took her hand and pulled her up, dragging her towards her bathroom. “Go in there. There’s a robe from Romeo you can change into. Once you’re changed tap on the counter three times and I’ll come in.”

Her face turned red, “Excuse me?! You’re not planning to take a bath with me right?!”

Making a face he scoffed, “No. I’m not done setting it up but it’s better if you’re in there and ready to get in the tub. You really are lucky you know? You got that nice big garden tub and it doesn’t look like you’ve ever used it.”

“Can’t take that many baths when I’m as busy as I usually am.” She frowned and slipped into the bathroom. As the door shut she hanged the nice clean clothes she’d been wearing and stopped short, eyes on the full length gorgeous red bath robe. Running her fingers over it she felt the material and could tell it was way more expensive than it had any right to be. She made fast work of her undergarments and tucked them into the hamper, shoving it into the closet to deter any possible thefts. Not a chance was one of these guys leaving with any panties. After pulling the robe on she sighed happily at how wonderful it felt and tied it tight. Luna almost spoke out loud but remembered his words and tapped her knuckles on the counter three times.

Leo wasted no time coming in and shutting the door behind him. “Took you long enough.” He took in the image of her in the robe and clicked his tongue, “I told him not to give you red. It’s too bright of a color for you.” Rolling his eyes he went over to the already drawn bath. The water was nearly opaque with a soft lilac tint to the milky surface. He pointed to some bottles he lined up on the side of the tub, “Shampoo, let it sit in your hair after you wash it for at least five minutes or it’s a waste. Conditioner, rinse it out with cool water and leave just a little in your hair. This face wash has the instructions on it. That’s a scrub for your feet. And this body wash is meant for your level of oil. Yeah, I asked that weirdo at Mortkranken to tell me what your skin type was. You can keep these by the way. Anything you don’t want you can just toss.” He shrugged and added a handful of some bottled salt.

“Wow… that’s a lot… what’s in the water?” She peered at the steamy inviting bath.

“Lavender milk bath with exfoliants, this is some rose scented epsom salt to help your muscles relax, and then,” He took one last glass container and scattered a small handful of petals over the water, “Those are hibiscus petals. They help re energize you.”

“You really know your stuff huh?”

“Of course I do. How else do you think I look this flawless?” He smirked and stepped back, “Anyway don’t take longer than an hour in here. You don’t want to prune yourself. And who knows what everyone out there is getting up to with you not there to stop them?” Laughing he slipped out of the room.

“Hey! Wait a minute!”

“Oh my god what?” Leo dragged the words out with a groan.

“Put your headphones on. I don’t want you listening to me while I’m taking a bath.”

“Ugh, why would I do that?!”

“I’m serious!”

A different voice answered, “Don’t worry Senpai. I’ll make sure he’s behaving.”

“Thank you Sho!”

She sighed and put the robe to the side, slipping into the water with a moan. “Fuck… that’s nice.” Settling into the water she leaned her head back on the pillow he’d attached there. Relaxing in the bliss of her bath she closed her eyes for a while. Then a knock came, but not from the door, the wall beside her. Luna turned her head and fixed it with a worried look.

“Doll? Are you decent in there? I was wondering if now would be a good time for our chat?” His voice was muffled and sounded insanely nervous.

She smiled and leaned back again, “Yeah. You can come in. I’m assuming there’s a biwa in here because you and Haku planned this part?” She had noticed the ‘anomalous’ biwa in the corner but had assumed it was just for a later part of this pampering fest they were planning and they had wanted to hide it.

Zenji passed through the wall by the counter and averted his eyes, “Yes. I knew there would be a good time for it at some point. But Haku being the smart fellow he is found a way to ensure it.” Going to the biwa sat in the corner he knelt down and began to play it. “You can tell me at any time my dear.”

“Hmm, okay. Don’t mind me if my eyes are closed. This bath is just really nice…” She sighed softly, “Zenij. You haven’t done much to upset me if I’m honest. Though I will say that message you left me one night was terrifying. And I enjoy your company so much. Too much sometimes.” Her eyes opened as she gave him a sad look, “I wish you hadn’t died so, so much. I want to hug you and hold hands with you and brush your hair. You’re such a nice person.”

Leaning forward she rested her arms on the edge of the tub and watched him, “But you know a lot of things that I really want to know. About the clash, about whatever the hell was happening last year, about Jiro, about a lot of people because I’m sure you’ve been able to see a lot of things in this form that you wouldn’t have otherwise. But most of all, I just want you to trust me and open up to me. You get this look sometimes, like you’re debating whether or not to say something. And I just really want you to say it. Whatever’s bothering you or giving you a hard time, tell me. I want to be there for you too. Not just the ghouls who are alive.”

The biwa stopped for a moment as he tried to wipe his eyes. “I’m sorry dear… give me a second.” His glasses were skewed as he attempted to dry his tears.

Waiting for him to get himself together she watched the man with a sad smile.

“Thank you doll, you’re so kind. I really can’t thank you enough for being there for Jiro. And for Subaru and Haku as well. They all seem so much better with you around. And I would love nothing more than to be among the living again for those reasons and much more. But my time was cut short and there’s not anything to be done to change that.” His fingers moved slowly over the strings now, the tune a bit more sorrowful. “I truly wish I could tell you what I know about our previous year… but there’s nothing good to tell. It was… it was nothing short of awful. I don’t know if I could even get through a retelling of it. It holds so many of the deep scars we ghouls carry today. Some deeper than others. I’m sure one day we’ll be able to tell you. But now is not the time. Not when we’re here to help you relax and to take care you.”

Finishing the tune he stood and floated to her side, “I thank you for being so wonderful for us. Even those who seem undeserving and difficult have needed every bit of your light.” He reached out and tried to place a hand on her cheek, it passed through the skin and sent a shiver through her. “I’m sorry…”

“Don’t apologize,” She shifted her head so it looked like he was cupping her cheek. “See? It can still work.” Smiling at his soft laugh she held a hand up as if to hold his in place and a new chill went down her spine as it felt, well, corporeal. Her eyes darted to his equally wide ones. “Zenji?”

“What…” He ran his thumb back and forth across the apple of her cheek, “I can… I can feel that.”

“Oh my god… your hand is huge.” She giggled, “But so gentle…”

He shuddered, “Your hand is so soft and warm… I didn’t think I’d ever get to feel that again… darling you truly are the most incredible woman.” Slowly, so, so slowly he took his hand back and tried to hold hers. When he made contact he let out a shaky breath. “Amazing.”

Luna smiled and squeezed his hand, “There’s so many callouses. This is… this is honestly one of the best gifts I’ve gotten today.”

Zenji’s face flushed and he cleared his throat, “I should really let you get back to your relaxing bath. After all it’s still quite unsightly for a man to be in here while you’re… in this state of undress.”

“I wouldn’t mind if it was someone as well mannered as you Zenji.”

“Luna…” He bit his lip, “I really insist. But you shouldn’t worry. I’ll still be waiting for you outside.” Turning he phased through the door.

She sighed and leaned back again, “Dammit. These ghouls are going to be the death of me.” Holding a hand over her heart she sat back up to start the act of actually cleaning herself.

After the bath she pulled the beautiful robe back on and headed for the door. As she did a knock sounded, “Uh yes?”

“Are you decent?” It was a sharp voice, one used to barking orders.

“I have the robe on.”

No sooner had she said that had the door opened and Romeo stepped through with a small designer bag. He took in her appearance and placed the bag down, “Hmm… maybe I’ll order one in rose gold instead. It would suit you better.”

“Huh?” She stared at him as he took out several skin care products and tools for applying them. “Wait are you-”

“What does it look like I’m doing?” He huffed and nearly shouted as the door opened again, “Who the he- are you serious?”

“Yeah, just scoot over Romeo.” Leo walked in and went to open the window and turned on the vent, “It’s a sauna in here. That’s no good for most of those creams you have.” Handing her a towel from Romeo’s bag he hummed, “Dry your face gently with this. Just pat it dry basically. God did you dry your hair off at all? You’re hopeless.” He sighed and found her a towel, then pointed at the closed toilet, “Sit here.”

Luna was swept into the whirlwind of Leo and Romeo, The first year drying her hair so tenderly as the third year continued setting up the routine they had clearly decided on for her. Each one so comfortable as they went about their own designated task. Leo focused on her hair, brushing it and using a hair mask Romeo handed to him. Romeo applying some cream to her face and rubbing it in with his own bare fingers. She doesn’t think she’s ever seen his bare hands before. He was insanely soft with his touch too.

Going through serums and creams and whatever else she couldn’t really keep up with it was like a full spa trip. And the best part was how beautiful both of the men doing this were. Leo was so much prettier when he was quiet and focused. His eyes gleaming as he made sure every inch of hair was clean from the hair mask so he could apply the last spray treatment. He had tiny dimples to the sides of his mouth, and his lips looked so soft and sleek, the way his long lashes brushed the top of his round cheeks made her heart flutter in time with his blinking.

And Romeo, god Romeo was such a good name for him. He was working with her face so closely she was able to see him in a new light. His striking foreign features, the curve of his nose, the well groomed eyebrows, the gorgeous gem colored eyes, the prominent angle of his jaw. Focused, unbothered, in one of his many elements, and looking so picture perfect she could just grab him and kis-

No. Luna behave. Not right now. Not another one… she was spiraling as she realized just how many of the ghouls she could see herself being involved with romantically. So very many… thinking about it… oh god it was all of them. Fuck… this couldn’t be happening right now. It wasn’t the time for a new dilemma. She barely had a grasp on any of the old dilemmas.

“Hey, earth to honor roll. You still alive in there or did your brain get steamed?” Leo snapped his fingers in front of her face, “We’re done- agh!”

She reached out and grabbed his shirt in a death grip, “Quiet. I’m thinking about something important and I can’t listen to your mouth right now.”

He was flustered as he pried her fingers off. “Don’t wrinkle my shirt over it!”

Romeo stood back appraising her with his gaze, “...Hmm. Good. I think getting that information from the PMS actually did help. Her skin wouldn’t take well to my usual routine after all. Or yours for that matter. I guess dermatology isn’t as useless as people say it is.”

“Anyway, you get her dressed. I’m going back out.” Leo smoothed his shirt and left.

“Did he say get me dressed?” Her eyes widened as she looked up at Romeo.

Seeing the look on her face he flushed slightly, “Don’t get any weird ideas you SP!”

“Oh no it’s a new one… Romeo please tell me what that one means…” She couldn’t stop herself from whining it.

“...Spoiled Princess.”

Luna blushed, “S-spoiled? And who’s fault is that?!”

“Shut up!” He opened the door a crack, “Bag!”

There were loud footfalls, stomping she realized as a pale hand came into view. “Don’t fucking talk to me like I’m one of your lackeys.”

Jin, she noted by his voice, handed the bag off and Romeo quickly opened it. Taking out a few pieces of clothing. Fairly small pieces… “Um… what is that?”

“Huh? Have you never seen what people wear for massages?”

“Oh that was… that was actually a thing and not just another dirty joke.”

He scoffed and tossed them at her. “Put those on and then the robe over it. We don’t want to have too many gawking virgins staring at you.”

She blushed again and caught the fabric. “Are you included in that?”

His head turned so fast she thought he snapped something in his neck, “Excuse you?! HDY think I’m one of those mouth breathing lowlifes!” Leaving the bathroom he shut the door far too loudly.

Luna counted that as a win for her, dressing quickly and then putting the robe on again she finally left the bathroom. What was waiting for her was a very different vibe than what she’d left.

There were a lot fewer bodies in the room now. Rui and Haku finishing the prep work for their impromptu massage parlor, Taiga and Ed, both lounging on either a couch or a chair, Subaru who was setting the now cleared table up with tea and sweets. And then Jiro who came back in through the front door with a small box in his hands and looked a bit surprised that she was already out of the bath. All the lights were either off or dimmed. Candles had been lit and placed around strategically. Her bed now had a mat laying over it with a soft cloth over that. Haku sat on the side of it, placing a few different bottles on her nightstand. He looked up and smiled, “Welcome back Princess. Hope you enjoyed your bath.”

“Yeah… uh where did everyone else go?” She walked towards the bed, noticing the incense burning that filled the room with a lovely fragrance she recalled picking on one of the lists. Seeing Jiro place the box over by the couch he found a seat and kept his eyes on her, which felt odd, it was like he was watching an experiment.

“Ah don’t worry,” It was Rui who spoke, “Most of them wanted to head to the chapel to put some distance between themselves. Some are washing dishes and cleaning up in the kitchen, and others needed to take a little walk to go to the restroom. And of course there’s a couple of ghouls on another smoke break.” He was currently checking a speaker he set up, getting the volume right as a soothing track played in the background.

She nodded, “It’s getting a little late so I guess I was just wondering if people needed to get to sleep.” Standing awkwardly beside her own bed she watched Haku roll his sleeves up and swallowed.

Subaru smiled, “Ah, well it’s still only about eight. Most of us can handle staying up past that.”

“You ready for your massage?” Haku smirked as he eyed her appreciatively.

“Oh uh… yeah.” Noting the pairs of eyes on her she slowly let the robe drop, leaving her in the tiny wrap around top and shorts so short they were practically underwear. And then Rui caught the robe with a wink as he hanged it over a coat rack. She knelt onto the mat and waited, “You want me on my front or?”

Haku’s voice dropped an octave, eyes going half lidded. “I want you plenty of ways Princess. But let’s start with that.”

She shivered and laid flat on her stomach, surprised as Haku moved her arms and legs to however he pleased. He shifted a pillow up for her head and situated her properly.

“Alright, relax, I’ll let you know before I touch you okay?”

“Mhm.” She closed her eyes but definitely didn’t miss the movement around the room or the opening and closing of doors as time passed.

Haku spent some time warming the oil between his hands before swinging a leg over and straddling her, making her feel much smaller than before. “I’m starting with your shoulders.” As soon as his hands made contact she trembled and shifted a bit under the firm pressure being rubbed into her muscles. “Hey… relax.” His voice was so close to her ear and it had a slight husky under tone.

Luna couldn’t hold back a moan as he worked out a knot in her shoulder blade. The sound of shuffling and a few intakes of breath were heard over the music. Of course they were watching. Some of these perverts were probably getting off on it. A devious thought entered her mind but she held off. No, let Haku give her this massage. She’ll have more time to rile them up later. Wait, later? God her thoughts were going straight to the gutter. What was wrong with her tonight?

He kept working down her back, and as he wrung out the muscles and the tense feelings she forgot all about holding back for her clearly captivated audience. Her sighs and grunts and moans filling the room as Haku’s hands molded her like putty. She heard someone hiss at another ghoul. It sounded like Romeo berating Taiga but she couldn’t be sure with how muddled her brain was. Was Haku working that out of her too?

A groan from her side sent her eyes flying open at the closeness. It was Subaru, eyeing her longingly as Haku massaged her upper arms. “Oh, sorry, I wasn’t trying to alarm you…” The captain’s voice was lower than usual, a bit strained as he held something out for his vice captain. “I was just bringing Haku something.”

She tried to speak but feeling the throb of stiff muscles loosening she whined and shut her eyes again.

A stifled growl was her only answer, did that noise really come from Subaru?

There were voices in the background chatting, but god she didn’t care as the ghoul above her made it to her waist and then her thighs. He was so good at this… why was he so good at this? Did all shinto priests learn this? Fuck, his hands were so firm and slightly rough from callouses. The long fingers helping him dig deeper into the tissues and sinew that was still tight from all her errand running.

“Oh this was a bad idea after all.” Haku took in a shaky breath.

“Hm?” Luna whined softly.

“The sounds you’re making Princess…” He leaned in and spoke against the shell of her ear, his breath sending goosebumps down her arms. “You’re getting all of them so hot and bothered. Already seen one of those second years run to the bathroom. Poor guy looked like a tomato.”

“Keep talking…” She breathed out the words, “What’s happening…?”

He smirked and moved his hands back up to her arms so he could keep up the charade of massaging her. “Mm, Taiga is eye fucking you right now.” He reveled in the gasp she let out, “Romeo is trying to keep him in check but he’s ready to pounce on you the second I move away. Jin isn’t doing much better than Taiga. If it weren’t for Tohma he’d have already knocked me off and taken you for himself. You’d think Haru would be the behaved one but he’s fidgeting so much right now.”

She sighed, “Unngh. Fuck…” His voice was a wicked melody in her head, driving her further into the deep need that was threatening to make itself well known.

“Subaru’s gonna break. He wants you so bad. He needs permission before he can touch and it’s driving him insane. Rui wishes he could do anything right now. Even if it’s taking his cock out just to relieve some pressure. If you called anybody’s name right now they might just cream their pants. That’s how much power you have over us Princess.”

“What about you… Haku.” His name came out in a shudder of air.

He inhaled sharply, “Fuck… I’m not done with your massage yet you greedy girl. But if we didn’t have an audience like this I would have already pinned you and had you screaming my name for the rest of the night.”

“Nnn, follow through on your stupid empty promises.” The sentence was strained but she heard a chair scrape the floor.

He paused, his head spinning at what she’d said, hands on either side of her, gripping the sheet like a life line. “You don’t mean that… you can’t mean that.” Sitting back he looked around the room again. “Ah… seems like a certain someone heard you.”

Leo hissed as he stood, “Oh absolutely fucking not! I’m not sitting here in the 19th cuck chair for this. You guys can do whatever you want but I don’t want any p- wah!”

Luna sat up to see what had happened, and her eyes widened, Sho had gripped Leo’s hair and pulled him back down. His other hand grabbing the front of Leo’s pants as he tugged him into his lap to face him. Sho grunted, “Shut up. I’m not letting you fuck this up for us.” His voice was low and it definitely scratched something nice in her brain to hear it like that.

The smaller man whined and tried to shift away, “Get your paws off my dick you dirty bastard.” He glared at Sho, gold meeting deep blue.

“Oh like you don’t beg for it most nights.” Sho pulled him forward and delivered a harsh bite to Leo’s ear, causing him to go limp in his arms with a deliciously strained whimper.

She bit her lip, surveying the absolutely wrecked ghouls staring at her, some had turned their attention to Sho and Leo but she couldn’t blame them. It was insanely hot watching Sho handle the demon like he was nothing but hot air.

Alan cleared his throat and leaned in to say something to the two. And as soon as he did Leo tilted his head and grabbed Alan, tugging his face close enough to land a rough kiss. There was instant panic in those gray eyes, that freeze response causing him not to pull away very fast. If you watched closely you could see the flick of Leo’s tongue on Alan’s now shiny bottom lip.

Their captain turned to march into the other room, far away from his two troublesome first years as Leo licked his lips and started mouthing at Sho’s neck. But Sho reached back and grabbed Alan’s wrist, his grip like steel to keep him from leaving. It felt like that deep tone from before resonated in her blood as he exhaled shakily, “Fucking look at her...”

Alan did as he was told, flushed and trying his best to avoid looking as desperate as the rest of them. Sho didn’t hide it, his eyes were focused on her despite his other hand squeezing Leo’s ass like a stress ball. The other first year looked over his shoulder at her, eyes molten gold as he licked his lips again, hips rutting forward subconsciously. It drew a hiss from Sho and he squeezed harder, causing a feedback loop of the two dry humping on one of her chairs.

Haru was indeed still fidgeting but he had a death grip on Towa’s arm, the vice captain staring into her soul like if he looked away he’d die. Ren was held by Haru’s other hand, he was red to his ears and looking anywhere but her. Except it was obvious that he was stealing glances every so often. It was easy to see the outlines in their pants with how they were sat. All of Jabberwock was quiet as a mouse and still as stone.

Jin was going to bite a hole in his bottom lip, but unlike Tohma he had no decency to hide the raging hard on in his pants. Tohma’s eyes couldn’t be taken away from her form, his legs arranged to discreetly hide the effect she had on him. Luca was standing by the bathroom, face flushed and arms crossed as he tried to not look as affected as his friend. Speaking of, Kaito had only recently re emerged from the bathroom if his sweaty face was anything to go by. But he was a deer in headlights watching her, pulling his hoodie down over his crotch to cover his pants.

Ed was absolutely lounging on his chosen chair, but his eyes were promising so many things he could do to her. True to Haku’s words Rui was posted up by the wall, looking like he wanted to throw himself into a fire to quell his own desires. Lyca, oh poor Lyca was so red, his fingers white knuckle gripped on his own pants, a prominent tent there.

If Taiga had been eye fucking her then Subaru was eye worshiping her, eye vivisecting her, eye immolating her. It felt as if he could see to her bone marrow the way he was devouring her with his gaze. It felt both reverent and diabolic all at once. Haku was still behind her, sounding as bad off as the others looked, his hands straining to stay off her warm skin. Zenji was in a corner, doing his best to look respectful but there was heat in his eyes. Something that made her clench just from making eye contact with him.

And Taiga, fuck that was definitely way past eye fucking. He looked ready to leap over the couch to get at her. Oh this was dangerous. Even Romeo was giving her a half lidded stare, like he was reviewing some fine art in a gallery that he wanted to take home. Ritsu was looking so uncomfortable, similar to Lyca in the way his fists were clenched, but those damn beautiful eyes couldn’t be torn away from her body if they tried. She vaguely hoped his recorder wasn’t on the whole time, but the fuzzy feeling in her head prayed that it was and that it would stay that way.

Jiro appeared mostly unaffected, but the way he crossed his legs was giving it away, paired with the slight flush to his cheeks, parted lips and clouded eyes. That was an ego boost, getting someone like him this worked up without touching him even once? And Yuri was so red. God how could anyone reach that shade of red? His eyes were wide and he looked so out of place, almost more uncomfortable than Ritsu at this point. But he also seemed to be studying her.

Luna shivered, realizing all at once how under dressed she was, how oiled up her body was, and how her nipples were definitely hard enough to show through the tiny wrap around top. She inhaled sharply, “Uh… so… if I were to… maybe say I’m interested in hearing whatever you guys are thinking about… what would you say?” The groans from around the room were enough answer for her, “Alright. There’s going to be some ground rules. So listen closely.”

[folkloric04]

summer heat ⋆☀︎｡ part one

summary: you’re home for the summer after graduating college, reconnecting with your roots and your hometown. some connections are old, familiar…some are new.

cw: dbf!joel, minor language please do not engage if you do not feel comfortable with the dbf genre or age gaps! yes, this is an au fictional universe based on a fictional story, but it is my intention to do my best to not mischaracterize joel overall and to create a very consenual, adult relationship between the reader and joel. he's also a big softie in my mind and we don't see enough of that in dbf fics with him so here we are. be warned also there will be many troupes to be found in this fic, I'm a sucker for the classic college outline of this genre lol, and lots of texas-shaped sentence structures - as a texas native I have fun messing with the dialogue and joel's accent. happy reading! <3

"Joel's headed back today."

Your dad plops down at the table, nursing a hot cup of coffee. The morning light streams through the kitchen windows, softly filtered by the linen curtains. He takes a bite of toast and nods at the bite of eggs on your fork frozen midair, unaware of the flush forming on your cheeks at the mention of Joel Miller. "Eggs are hot, careful."

You snap your mouth closed and set the fork down, swallowing thickly. "Oh yeah?" You hide your face with your own cup of coffee, gently sipping. "I thought he wasn't comin' in until Monday?"

"Sarah finished her last final early. They’re drivin’ in this afternoon.” Your dad eyes the bite of eggs you’ve left behind on your plate and snatches it with his fork, ignoring the oatmeal in his bowl.

“Dad,” you swipe at his arm. “Finish your toast and eat your oatmeal, please. I’m not dragging you to another doctor’s appointment just for them to tell you the same damn thing about changing your diet again.”

He throws his hands up in surrender, chuckling. Lifting his spoon, he hesitantly scoops the bland liquid and brings it to his mouth. He takes a bite with a sour look. “Jesus H. Christ.”

You roll your eyes and chuckle, glancing out into the front yard, across the street to the Miller home. Through another forced bite of oatmeal, your dad catches your gaze and points to the house. “They should be back before the barbecue tonight. Bet Sarah'll be excited to see you."

The barbecue.

"Yeah. For sure," you comment, but your mind wanders, eyes tracing the paint-peeled mailbox outside, the red shutters, the leaf-swollen drainpipes. How could you forget about the cookout? It happened at the end of every May, a giant neighborhood bash to kick off summer, one your dad has co-hosted with Joel every year. You’ve been so busy settling back into town after graduation that it hadn't even passed through your mind.

“Speaking of tonight,” your dad’s voice breaks your reverie. “Think you can run to the store to grab a couple extra buns? And beer. We definitely need more beer."

“Uh, yeah, sure, make a list and I'll run there after I stop by the school,” you tell him, shoveling a few bites of forgotten eggs into your mouth.

"Tutorin' startin already?" He stands to refill his coffee, returning with the pot to refill yours.

"Not till next week. Just doin' a few preliminary things before classes start. Oh shit, I also need to stop by and feed Darlene." You lift your mug, and your eyes land on your dad's watch as he pours the hot, muddy liquid. "Don't you have that eight o'clock meeting at the dig site?"

Your dad's eyes widen, shooting down to the watch face. "Shit, I forgot I'm covering the briefing for Joel, sonofa-" He hurries over to replace the pot as you chuckle, watching him slide in his socks to the front door. As he shoves his boots on and looks for his keys, cursing under his breath about how they always seem to grow legs and run around on him, you pour his coffee into a to-go tumbler and meet him at the door as he's stuffing his arms into his jacket.

You open the door, Texas morning air warming your face, and offer him the tumbler and his keys, which were right where he left them last, by the bowl of fruit on the kitchen bar. He awkwardly stumbles forward, hands full with blueprints and papers, hat on sideways.

"Have a good day, Dad," you smile. "Text me the list when you get the chance."

He sighs and chuckles to himself, accepting the coffee and the keys. Before he steps out, he places a quick kiss on your forehead and taps the tip of your nose, like he always used to do when you left for school as a kid. "What would I do without you, honey?"

Your heart swells as you watch him pull from the driveway in his beat-up blue truck. The engine rattles down the street until it quiets completely when he turns towards the main roads. A small flock of sparrows flies overhead, settling in the great oaks in the yard, chirping to each other in a noisy chorus. Above, burnt orange kisses pale blue as the sun stretches above the horizon line.

-

The engine won't start.

Of course, right as you're trying to get out of the swarmed Randall’s parking lot, the sun beating down a 98-degree heat, sweat sticking hair to your forehead and neck, the goddamn engine won't start. To be fair, you're not sure your little baby blue Mustang has been driven since last summer, and she’s got parts several years older than you.

You jostle the key and hear it start to turn over, again and again, but to no avail.

You drop your head onto the steering wheel. "Shit."

“Car trouble?”

A familiar voice, low and southern, makes you sit up. A worn flannel greets you before a head pokes through your window, shaggy blonde hair and freckles. Your heart does a disappointed swoop. You’d be lying to yourself if you said you weren’t expecting it to be someone else, but Miles Lambert, your high school sweetheart, standing outside your car, is still a welcome surprise.

“Miles, oh my god-“

You slip out of the car as he laughs, colliding with you. “How are you? God it’s been forever-“

“I’m good, I’m good. Jesus, I didn’t know you were back!” He smiles, pulling back, emerald eyes flashing in the sun. “Thought your dad decided to take Baby for a spin.”

You snort. “Never in a million years, he loves that damn truck too much.” You soak him in. He’s tanner, a bit taller, a bit thicker, muscles hidden beneath red plaid.

“You look good,” you comment, poking him in the side, and he blushes, turning the same shade of pink he used to when you were kids.

“So do you.” He rubs at the back of his neck sheepishly. Life was tragic for eighteen-year-old you when you’d left for college. The two of you had been together nearly the entirety of high school, sweethearts until the end.

But you always knew you wanted to go to college out of state if you ever got the opportunity to. And when a bit fat scholarship from New York University arrived on your doorstep, you took it and ran. Away from Austin, from your dad, from Miles. You'd left things on a good note, but you know it broke both of your hearts to leave like that.

Still…it’s good to see him now.

“I’ve got cables in my trunk.” He pulls out his keys and starts backing away. “Let’s see if we can jumpstart her.”

Twenty minutes later, your engine finally roars back to life. You shrug off your denim jacket, tank top sticking to your skin, and toss it onto the passenger seat. The sun warms your shoulders, the breeze placates your overheated body and instigates little rivulets of sweat, beads that slide down your neck and pool at your collarbone. Miles eyes you from where he’s locking your hood back down, and you pretend not to notice.

"All set.” He unhooks the cables and ambles over to where you lean against your car, the engine rattling your body slightly as the scent of exhaust wafts by on the breeze. “Think it’s just a clogged air filter. I could take a closer look at her at the garage if you want. No charge, of course."

"That would be amazing." Your smile softens. "I was sorry to hear about your dad. I should have reached out-"

Miles smiles softly. "Hey, it's no worries, really. Business has been good. Slow but steady." He glances out at the parking lot, families couples, and kids. In the distance, you can hear the roar of cars on the highway. Below, heat sizzles above the asphalt. You fiddle with your flannel, unsure of where to continue.

But Miles breaks the silence first, shifting on his feet and turning his body towards his car. "You’re coming to the barbecue tonight, right?” He says, gesturing to the cooler of beer beside the bagged hot dog buns in your backseat.

“Shitty beer and drunk neighbors on a hot Texas night? Wouldn't miss it for the world." You smile and pat his arm, rounding the car to slip inside the driver’s seat.

He leans down, poking his head through the window again as you settle in. The look on his face is sincere. The reflection of light on the silver linings of the car casts his face in a youthful glow, so familiar and reminiscent of his high-school days. “I'll see ya tonight."

"See you tonight, Miles."

--

You're sweating buckets by the time you make it back to the house.

You had to stop by the liquor store to grab some mixers for the small cocktail bar some of the ladies asked to be included in the drink selection this year. Your dad, who was currently enamored with a certain lady of the neighborhood, Ellen Jones down the street, volunteered to shoulder the brunt of supplies.

The garage is stifling, but the minute you shove open the door to the house, your body begins to cool. Once the groceries are up, you head over to the Miller house.

It's in a similar fashion to your own, except for the cobalt-gray your house is painted; the Millers' is red, with exposed brick. An awning covers the porch, leading to a short walk-up and a set of double doors. Slipping the key from your pocket, you slip inside, already sweating again.

Two paws and a sharp bark greet you.

You beam, leaning down to scratch two floppy ears. "Darlene, heya girl! How are you?"

The border collie pants, excited, as she drops from your knees and rubs against your legs.

"You hungry? Want some food?"

Your footsteps pitter-patter on the linoleum as you venture into the kitchen. Light streams in from the backyard, filtering in a cozy warmth, the kind that makes you feel invited, at home. Evidence of Joel and Sarah are everywhere, from the magazines and bills on the kitchen table to the potted plants along the shelf walls (courtesy of Sarah, of course, not Joel, who's been known to kill a few here and there).

Darlene follows you as you switch on the radio. Austin's afternoon country show is on, and you lift your shoulders to the rhythm, feet finding familiar patterns on the floor, line dances forever etched in your memory as a kid, as you pick up Darlene's food bowl and refill it.

She sits patiently beside her water bowl, which you check is at least halfway full, and wags her tail when you return her bowl to her.

As she eats, you text your dad about the groceries.

You: beer, buns, and booze secured. at the millers feeding darlene.

Dad: Perfect, thanks, Sweetheart - I'll be home soon, Joel said he's coming up on the house now.

A mild and unwarranted panic sets in at those words.

Dad:  I told him you had the goods, lend him a hand.

Oh, shit.

A car engine emerges in the distance, a gentle rattle that turns into a sure enough sign that Joel's truck has just entered the cul-de-sac.

Darlene perks up her nose, going to the garage door as it clatters open. You dash over to the hallway mirror and attempt to tidy your messy braid. Flushed cheeks and sweat still sheening across your forehead, the garage door opens as you step back and smile at Sarah as she steps inside.

"Hey, Sarah!"

"Oh my God!" She rushes towards you, dropping her bags with a thump, and throws herself into your arms.

Darlene joins, paws greeting your hip as Sarah laughs and reaches out a hand to pet her head. "Oh, I missed you guys so much." Her big brown eyes meet yours with a sparkle. "God, you look so old!"

"Me, old? Look at you!" you laugh, pulling apart. "You're almost as tall as me now, Jesus."

Another clatter sounds, and Darlene patters to the figure emerging from the garage. "Hey, Darlin'," a voice echoes as it greets Darlene.

Your stomach does an involuntary swoop as Joel Miller walks in. Dressed in a dark blue flannel, work jeans, and boots, he lumbers in with two more suitcases, messy peppered curls falling across his forehead. His gaze finds yours, as rugged and handsome as ever.

"Oh. Hey, kiddo," his voice drawls, warm and syrupy. Your cheeks warm, but you blame the heat.

"Hey, Joel."

Sarah's on her phone already, walking into the kitchen now, grabbing something from the fridge. "Hey, Dad, is it okay if I go to Rhea's before the party?"

Joel sets down the suitcases. "Uh, sure, but-"

Sarah jolts past you, headed back to the garage, but Joel holds up a hand. "Could ya at least bring your bags up to your room?"

"I promise I will tonight, Dad.” Sarah scrambles to tug her shoes on, words running together as she hurries for the garage. “Sorry, I gotta go Rhea said Nicole is coming and and Sam is gonna be there later and everyone wants to swim while the sun's still up bye see you later!"

She's already out the door before Joel can stop her, leaving the two of you alone in a static silence. The room brightens with a fresh wave of sunlight that streams in across the tiles, warming the backs of your legs.

"I-it's good to see you, kid," Joel says, albeit a bit awkwardly. He's scanning you, scanning the room. "Darlene give ya any trouble?"

"Uh, no, not at all. She's a good girl," you smile down at the dog, who pants at your knees, looking up at you.

He looks up at you and holds your gaze for a minute. "Yeah, she is..."

Your stomach clenches.

Joel sucks in a breath, rubbing the back of his neck. "Uh, yer dad said you have groceries for tonight?"

"Oh, yeah, uh, they're at the house, but I can, uh, I can go grab 'em-"

"Ah, s'alright, I'll have your dad bring 'em over when he sets up for the grill."

"Are you sure? I can at least grab the beer-"

"Don't worry 'bout it." He shifts on his feet, pushing up the rolled sleeve on his right arm. Your eyes track the movement, rough fingers skimming dark fabric over worn, freckled skin.

"How long you been in town?" he asks.

Inhaling, you toe the floor with the tip of your Converse. "Uh, not long. 'Bout a week."

"Reckon you're happy to be home. It's been, gosh, two years-?"

"Three," you nervously cut in. "Almost three.”

It was true. Though your dad had made a few brief trips up to New York, you hadn't been home in nearly three years, so busy with life in the city, internships, and trying to finish college. Your dad spent holidays with you, not the other way around. You'd spent maybe a weekend or two back in your old bedroom every year if you found the time to visit, but always feeling out of place, untethered. In your mind, your childhood home was a reminder of the limits of your hometown. When you'd left Austin freshman year, you were planning on never coming back.

But here you were, despite it all.

"You finish up your degree?"

"Yep," you nod. The word leaves your mouth lamely.

Joel's dark eyes flash in the amber light from the kitchen windows. His mouth quirks in a way that has your heart skipping a beat. "You look...you look good. Older, I guess."

Suddenly, you're incredibly conscious of your clothes, jean shorts tight on your thighs, your tank top clinging to your damp skin. The room seems small; the air is clammy as it struggles on its way down to your lungs.

You swallow thickly. "Well, I'm not exactly a teenager anymore."

He scoffs, but something crosses his face. A flickering set of blinks, a bob of his Adam's apple. It passes before you can comprehend it. But not before the thought of his hesitation buries itself beneath your skin, taking root somewhere in your gut.

Joel clears his throat. "I better get her bags up 'er else she'll never unpack."

"Right, I'll, uh, I'll make sure we bring some of the stuff over." You head for the front door, Darlene yawning behind you as she pads to a bright patch in the dining room, circling up to nap.

"Hey," Joel stops, one foot on the steps, watching you as you turn, hand on the door frame. "It's good to have you back."

You smile. "It's good to be home."

taglist: @queenbbarnes

thanks for reading! if you'd like to be added to the taglist, let me know!

[a-kind-of-merry-war]

Unbalanced pt. 2

It was the way Henry’s hands had roamed across his body, the urgency with which they’d undressed. It was the way his heart had squeezed in his chest when Henry had taken him apart more gently than he deserved on the shitty bed. It was in Hans’s words - begging for a kiss - and in the way Henry had complied, kissing him like—

Like it was real. Like he meant it. But he didn’t. It was just another job to be done, fixing another one of Lord Capon’s messes.

Henry and Hans accidentally drink a love potion. But the only way to save themselves from a horrible end is to rebalance their bodies, and the only way they can do that is with each other. Chapter 2, in Hans's POV!

Medieval fuck-or-die by way of a love potion. Chapter 2/2, 4.9k words. Rated E.

Read Chapter One here on Tumblr, or here on AO3.

⚔️ ⚔️ ⚔️

It was dark outside. The embers of the fire glowed uselessly, throwing out barely any heat or light. Hans knew he should toss another couple of logs into the hearth to keep it burning, but he couldn’t bring himself to move.

He’d stormed into his rooms that morning, bolted the door, and hidden. He’d moved listlessly around the room from bed to table to fireplace to bed again, unable to focus. He’d considered leaving several times, but couldn’t risk running into someone who would demand to know what was wrong with him, or worse, running into Henry himself. He’d tried to sleep, tried to read, tried to play dice against himself, but had found them all impossible.

Every time he sat still for more than a few moments, he could feel the ghost of Henry’s touch on his skin. His hands on his thighs, his lips on his mouth.

It had felt so good. And worse than that: it had felt real - like Henry cared for him, like he wanted him.

The love potion had felt real, too - the hot sing of his blood, the desperation to grab and hold. But in the cool darkness of Hans’s room he now recognised that feeling as something else entirely. It was the same feeling that dogged his footsteps whenever he was with Henry, the one that had him counting the boards in the wall to stop himself from launching himself across the table at him wherever they drank together.

It was the rest that hurt most. It was the way Henry’s hands had roamed across his body, the urgency with which they’d undressed. It was the way his heart had squeezed in his chest when Henry had taken him apart more gently than he deserved on the shitty bed. It was in Hans’s words - begging for a kiss - and in the way Henry had complied, kissing him like—

Like it was real. Like he meant it.

But he didn’t. It was just another job to be done, fixing another one of Lord Capon’s messes. Henry saving the day after yet another fuck up. It was Hans’s fuck up, too, as it always was. It was him who had taken that bastard's drink, and it was him who had first suggested that their ale could have been laced with a love potion.

He had been the one to suggest they fuck, even though he’d not used so many words.

Henry, noble and true and dedicated, had agreed. Of course he had. He’d said it himself before: how could I refuse you anything?

Hans had realised he was in love with Henry some time ago. It had been a revelation - a shock, which he’d tried to deny for as long as he could. He had failed in that, as he failed in most things: Henry was Henry. There was no denying that. 

Lust, Hans could deal with. Lust was wieldable. He could make lust his companion and take it to the nearest bathhouse or brothel and close his eyes and imagine the wench with her lips around his cock was someone else. He’d done it before, after all.

But love? And a love like this - that came wreathed in blades and shining armour and fierce dedication? That was something else entirely. He’d heard of knights who pledged themselves to each other, their unending devotion, their feelings bigger than themselves with promises made on the edge of a sword. Loving Henry felt like that, like something grander than himself. Something he was not worthy to have.

But it was complicated, too: a complication he didn’t need. Aside from the somewhat pressing legal and spiritual concerns of loving another man, it was too fucking messy. Henry was his best friend, possibly his only friend, and this new, embarrassing feeling had the strength to ruin everything. 

And now, after all that time - after barricading himself against the force of his own feelings - it wasn’t even that tricky bastard called love that had brought him down. It was his own lust-addled brain grabbing onto the first excuse to fuck.

He was staring into the fire, wondering if he could possibly escape through the window, when there was a thud on the door. Probably a guard sent for him, maybe even Hanush himself. He ignored the knocking; they’d go away eventually.

“Hans!”

The sound of Henry’s voice made him jerk his head around. Shit.

“Hanush said he’s not seen you since—” 

Henry’s voice faltered. Hans watched the door, wondering what he would say next.

“Since this morning,” Henry managed. “I wanted to see if you’re… if you’re alright.”

Hans held back a laugh. He didn’t respond. Henry would give up and leave, eventually.

“Look, I know it was… it was a lot, alright? But we have to talk about it!”

No we don’t. Hans kept his mouth shut. There was a long pause. Long enough that Hans assumed Henry had given up. Then:

“We both know I can pick the lock.”

“Go away.” 

Hans’s voice felt raw through underuse, the words cracked. There was another long silence.

“Please, Hans.” Henry’s voice sounded muffled. Was he leaning against the door? “Please just let me in.”

Fuck. 

He couldn’t go on like this. And Henry was right, damn him directly to Hell: if he wanted, he would easily be able to pick the lock and see himself in. Typically, Hans would feel confident that he’d never disrupt his privacy like that, but now, with all this new uncertainty between them - all those unspoken words - he wasn’t so sure.

He relented, swiftly crossing the room and unbolting the door before he could change his mind. Henry stepped in quickly, shutting the door behind him. He had a cloth sack in one hand and a jug of wine in the other.

“What do you want?” Hans snapped.

“We need to talk, Hans.”

“No we don’t.”

Henry looked… tired. Nervous. Nervous and a little sad; his eyes wide and soulful. Hans forced himself to look away so he wouldn’t be tempted to ease the pain he saw in them.

“Everyone is worried about you,” Henry said, as he placed his things on the nearest table. “No one has seen you all day. Please, Hans, can we—”

“No, we can’t!”

“But—”

“Look, Henry,” Hans rounded on him. His blood was screaming. His heart felt like it was going to burst. “I don’t know what you think there is to talk about, but there is nothing to discuss. Do you want to go through the whole mess? The whole fucking mess of it?”

“Hans—”

He had to get him to leave. He had to for both their sakes. What was better, he wondered: For Henry to think he was a bastard, or for him to know that Hans was wretchedly, pathetically in love with him?

“Just fuck off, will you? I’m sorry if you came here to brag about the noble Lord Capon wanking you off but I’m not in the fucking mood, alright? We both knew that this—” he gestured between them, hand waving wildly— “wasn’t going to last, whatever this friendship is. You’re a blacksmith’s boy. So best you go now, go back to wherever the fuck it is you came from, and leave me be.”

Henry stared at him. He didn’t move. His eyes shimmered in the dark. Hans steeled himself. Each word was a punch to the gut, each one coming harder, costing him more.

“Do you think anyone will thank you for what you did?” he spat. “Your father? Your real father or your dead one? What would they think of their precious, perfect lad getting off with another man? Or the other nobles? This is done, Henry, it’s done, so fucking leave! Go!”

Henry stared at him. “No.”

“I am demanding you leave!”

Henry took a step forward. “No!”

Why now? Why now, of all the times, had Henry chosen to refuse him? His ever-obedient page, squire, friend, was only choosing to disobey when it mattered most. His throat was hoarse, his words spent. He closed the gap between them and shoved Henry back towards the door.

“Just go.”

Trying to move Henry was like trying to move a fucking wall. He shook his head.

“Why are you acting like this?” Henry said, voice crackling a little around the edges. “Hans, why are you—”

“Because it wasn’t real,” Hans cried, all his energy spent. “It wasn’t fucking real, Henry!”

The ensuing silence was louder than the shouting. Hans couldn't be this close to him. He backed away quickly, stumbling over his own feet. This was it, he knew. This was truly it. He didn’t even want to look at Henry any more: didn’t want to see the shock and pain and disgust he knew would be on his face. Or worse, pity, pity for the poor little lord who tricked himself into believing he could be loved by someone like Henry.

He heard Henry move. Felt his hand on his shoulder.

“Hans… Hans, look at me.”

For once, Hans obeyed. Henry’s expression was shuttered. His eyes roamed desperately back and forth across Hans’s face. His lips twitched with a thousand unsaid words.

Finally, Henry spoke. “It felt real.”

Henry kissed him. It was soft, and slow, and gentle: a million miles removed from the hungry kisses they had shared in the woodcutter’s hut. Hans’s chest squeezed, his heart bound in red-hot chains. Henry placed a cautious hand around Hans’s waist, holding him close. Hans held him back, wrapping his arms around his shoulders, mirroring his careful movements, his tender kisses.

“I’m sorry, Hal,” Hans mumbled against his lips. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean…”

“I know.”

They stood wrapped around each other for what could have been an age. There was no urgency, no speed: just them, locked in the dark. When Hans finally pulled back, there was only one thing he could say.

“Fuck.”

Henry chuckled, his arms still around Hans’s waist. “Yeah.”

“I thought…” Hans dug his fingers into Henry’s back, clinging to him. “I thought I’d fucked it all up again.”

“How? We both thought we’d taken that potion.”

“But I was the one who suggested it! I was the one who took it from that bastard in the first place. And I was the one who suggested we— we fix it ourselves.”

Henry gave him a sly look. “Well, yes,” he said. “But I was going to suggest it too. You just got there first.”

Hans couldn’t believe him. “What?” he demanded. “You were?”

“Of course I was!” Henry said, now laughing. “Why do you think I was so keen to go along with it?”

“I just thought you were being you,” Hans said. “Saving my noble arse once again.”

Henry raised his eyebrows. “Well if it’s your noble arse we’re talking about…”

“Henry!”

“What?”

“This is serious.” Hans took a breath, determined to say it. “I was scared I’d lost you,” he whispered, at last. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“It’d take more than that to lose me,” Henry said, shaking his head.

Hans huffed incredulously. “Don’t be stupid,” he said.

“We did think we were going to die.”

“I don’t think that makes me feel any better. Either we’re both so foolish that we were tricked by our own bloody minds, or you’d only fuck me when it’s a life or death situation.”

“I don’t think it was foolishness,” Henry said, brow furrowed. “It was… well, no, assuming we’d taken it and not actually making sure we really had was foolish, but I’m not surprised we did think that. At least, I’m not surprised I did.” He looked at Hans from the corner of his eye. “I’m not sure about you.”

Hans took a moment. “No,” he said at last. “I… I can’t say I’m too surprised at myself. I’ve wanted to— well.” He swallowed, looking up. “I’ve wanted to do that for a while. And it made sense, after all. It doesn’t make me feel any less stupid, mind.”

Henry chucked, shuffling closer. “Well I shan’t tell anyone. Wouldn’t want anyone to think the noble Lord Capon is a fool.”

“You best not,” Hans said, aware of how close Henry was getting, how dark and inviting his lips looked. 

“And—” Henry said, voice scarcely more than a whisper, “I wouldn’t only fuck you in a life or death situation. Far from it.”

They were kissing again; Hans didn’t know who leaned first, who closed that gap. He didn’t care. He didn’t want to think about the mistake, about their shared stupidity. He only wanted this. Henry tangled his hand in Hans’s hair, pulling him closer. They slid down onto the bed, the mattress sagging beneath them. Hans threw himself forwards, nearly fully into Henry’s lap, opening his mouth against—

His stomach made a wretched rumbling sound. Henry burst out laughing, extracting himself from Hans’s grip and releasing his hair.

“Was that your stomach?” 

Hans gave him a playful shove. “I haven't eaten since yesterday evening,” he sniffed haughtily. “What do you expect?”

“Not anything?” Henry leaned back fully now, looking shocked. Hans didn’t appreciate that expression.

“What?” he said, stiffly. “I wasn’t about to go out there and risk running into someone who would demand I talk to them, or to— to you, and realise how badly I’d fucked up. Besides,” he added, almost as an afterthought, “I haven’t felt particularly hungry. Just sick.”

Henry sighed, shaking his head, then got up from the bed. “Good thing I brought this then…”

Henry reached for the sack he’d brought, left abandoned on the table with the jug beside it. Hans hadn’t paid too much attention when he’d barged in - more concerned with the world ending around him - but now he realised it was full.

“And ‘this’ is…?”

Henry pulled a soft, fresh bread roll from the sack. “Supper,” he grinned.

He chucked the roll at Hans, who managed to catch it before it hit his head, then came to sit back beside him on the bed. He pulled out a flaky pastry, and was about to take a bite of it when Hans grabbed his wrist.

“Not on my bed, you oaf,” he said. “I don’t want crumbs everywhere…”

Henry rolled his eyes at him - a tad dramatically for Hans’s taste - but was easily enough corralled to move himself from the fine sheets. In the end, they found themselves sitting on the floor with their backs leaning against the bed, the threadbare rug providing very little comfort from the hard floorboards beneath.

Hans couldn’t find it in him to care. He was famished, so wrapped up in his own fears that he hadn’t realised how hungry he was until Henry had presented him with bread and cheese and God, what tasted like the sweetest kolach in all of Bohemia. With his mouth coated in slick-sweet honey and his stomach full and Henry at his side, he was finally able to relax.

“So they really sent you to find me, then?” He asked, filling his mug with wine from the jug he had brought. 

“Hanush did,” Henry said. “But I wanted to find you anyway. Hanush asking me made a convenient excuse.”

“And what will you tell him?”

Henry looked thoughtful.

“We can tell him you’re sick, if you like,” he suggested, sipping his wine. “Say you drank something funny yesterday night and it laid you up all day.”

“Hah!” Hans barked. “I admit, I’d rather him assume I was in here all day shitting my guts out than— than the truth.”

“There you go, then. Easy. And I’ll tell him that I stayed with you all night because you were so unwell that I didn’t want to leave you, in case you got worse.”

Hans paused, his cup to his lips. “Stayed all night?” he repeated, slowly.

“Oh—” Henry looked abashed, rubbing at the back of his head. “Only if you want me to stay, I just— I thought—”

“You want to stay?”

Henry’s expression flickered. “Of course I do,” he said. “Hans, after this… of course I want to stay.”

It shouldn’t have been surprising. Henry was so loyal, so dedicated. Henry was his friend, always by his side, or determined to be by his side. Yet something had changed between them, and no matter how much Hans knew Henry had wanted it all - had wanted the soft sweetness they had shared the previous night - that didn’t mean he wished to stay.

Hans’s lovers never stayed.

Or he never stayed.

For the first time, he wanted to. Needed to, the urge more than simple lust, as strong as hunger or thirst or the need for air.

“Oh,” he said again, his wine still untouched. “Then— yes. Stay. Please—” he took a breath. He was on the edge of dangerous sentimentality. It would not do. “Even if you must tell Hanush I’m violently shitting.”

Henry burst out laughing, spluttering crumbs. The spell broke, and Hans could breathe again.

They finished their sparse meal in companionable silence, sitting close on the floor, until both food and wine was spent. The air was close and warm, the cloying, clinging leftover of the summer heat, but it was no longer the oppressive choke that it had been the previous day. 

Combined with the food, simple as it was, and fine wine, the roiling desire Hans felt when Henry had kissed him was giving over to sleepiness. He’d spent the day in tight anxiety, waiting for the world to crumble around him. He hadn’t realised how much energy it had sapped from him; waging a war against himself rather than a true assailant. He let himself bend, giving into it, flopping bonelessly against Henry’s side and resting his head on his shoulder with an unstifled yawn.

“Tired, Sire?” Henry said teasingly, wiggling his shoulder.

“Shut your mouth,” Hans demanded, shuffling closer. “I have had—” his words were broken by another yawn. “A very long day.”

Henry laughed. “A long day sulking and hiding?”

“I have not been—” he snapped his mouth shut. He had been hiding, certainly. “I was not sulking,” he said. “I was merely… grieving the life and relationship I thought I had ruined.”

“That’s a fancy way of saying ‘sulking’,” Henry said.

“I could have you removed, you know. Or put in the stocks. I could come and throw vegetables at you.”

“Only after you’ve woken up,” Henry said. “Come on, up you get…”

Hans grumbled at him as Henry picked up the empty sack, jug and cups and placed them back on the table, dislodging Hans from his comfortable spot against his arm. He stood with a grumble before falling backwards onto the bed. He could hear but not see Henry moving around the room, opening the shutters of the window, banking the fire.

“Hans?”

“Mmm?”

“I was worried you’d fallen asleep, there.”

Hans sniffed. “Not quite.”

“Shove over, then.”

Hans did as Henry bid, barely even registering the demand, just giving into it. He nearly crawled up the bed as Henry shucked off his outer clothes and slotted in beside him. The bed really wasn’t made for two people - certainly not two full-grown men, and especially not knights. But it was miles away from the little pallet they’d been forced to share the previous night, and besides, Hans would have willingly laid to sleep upon a bed of rocks and nails had it meant he got to lie with Henry next to him.

Hans wriggled onto his side, attempting to make more room, his nose a scant few inches from the wall. Henry shuffled behind him, pressing his stomach to Hans’s back, holding him close. And he was very close. Even through two layers of linen, Hans could feel him, feel all of him, as he moved his hips. It could have been an entirely innocent gesture - an attempt to get more comfortable, to move away from the edge of the too-small bed. Yet Hans was sure, quite sure, that it wasn’t. He shuffled back, wriggling against Henry’s lap, shifting, pressing…

Henry hissed, burying his head between Hans’s shoulder blades. He was unmistakably hard. Hans pushed back again, grinding down upon him.

“I thought…” Henry said, muffled against Hans’s back, “that you were tired?”

Hans shrugged. “I can be many things. I am exceptionally talented.”

He heard Henry laugh, felt his breath play against his back, his cock nestling against his arse. Hans was warm all over - not hot, not stifling - not like he had been yesterday. But still warm enough that the layers of fabric between them were far too much.

Henry slid a slow, deliberate hand up Hans’s side, beneath his undershirt, stilling just above his heart. Hans wondered if he could feel the way his heartbeat had picked up, the way his skin had prickled into gooseflesh at the merest whisper of his touch. He made a quiet, soft noise, and for a moment thought Henry hadn’t heard.

“Is this—”

“Yes.”

God, that was needy. He was begging like a maid. But Henry only laughed, that familiar chuckle that Hans was so fond of, a huff of breath that sent shudders down Hans’s spine. He was desperate for more, for the touch to turn into something more heated. He pressed himself back against Henry's chest, frustrated that he couldn't reach him more fully. He attempted to move - to roll over, to rest their chests together so he could kiss him - but Henry held firm, keeping him in place.

Not for the first time, Hans was forcibly reminded of the strength of Henry's arms; blacksmith turned fighter turned knight, all muscle and power. He wriggled again, more of a test than truly trying to break free. Henry made a soft noise, pressing his lips to Hans's neck, his mouth brushing his nape.

“Can I—” Henry moved minutely behind him. “Can I try something?”

At this moment, Hans would have agreed to anything he suggested. “Of course.”

Henry reached around for the tie of Hans’s braies. It was already loose, and it took no effort at all on his part to undo the knot and slide the fabric down, exposing Hans entirely. Hans had expected him to reach for his cock, but Henry didn’t, pulling down the braies with a little wriggle until they were bunching around Hans’s thighs.

“Henry?”

Henry slid his hand lower, down Hans's exposed thigh then around to cup his arse. Hans stuttered out a breath as Henry moved his hand to the cleft of his cheeks and then, to Hans's surprise, lower, teasing between his thighs. Hans made a curious sound, moving his legs a little to grant Henry better access. Henry made a sound like a purr against his neck, and then his hand was gone. Hans could have cried out for missing his touch, until he realised what Henry was doing: removing his own braies, shoving them down. 

Hans could feel Henry’s prick against his arse completely, now, no longer bound. It nudged hotly against his cleft, eager and stiff, ready for... for whatever Henry had planned. Hans was no idiot - he knew precisely what men like this - what men like him - could do with a hard cock and a willing entrance. But he knew Henry, too, and knew that he would have prepared him, first. 

"What are you—"

"Just—"

Henry nudged his nose against Hans's back, nuzzling against him. He made a displeased little noise, and for a brief moment Hans was worried that he had been the one to displease him, and then a strong hand was bunching in his undershirt and tossing it aside. Henry kissed his back with a hungry fervor, licking up the arch of his spine. Hans shuddered.

Finally, Henry returned his hand to that place between Hans's thighs, sliding warm fingers between them. Lightning flickered up and down Hans's back, igniting his skin, his stomach a tight, hot ball of desire. Henry's fingers roamed, close - yet not touching - Hans's balls, the soft and hidden place between his balls and his arse.

And then, at last, Henry seemed satisfied. He maneuvered himself, Hans entirely unsure what he was doing, and then pressed his cock between Hans's thighs.

He gasped, squeezing instinctively, which in turn made Henry gasp behind him, low and raspy into his ear.

"O—Oh," Hans managed. "Oh. I see. Have you done this before?"

Henry's breathing was slow. "Once or twice," he muttered. "But not— not like this."

Hans wondered if that meant not with a man. He didn't ask. He didn't want to know, either. Henry's prick trapped between his legs was all he could focus on, the firmness of it, the heat. He squeezed again, and Henry whispered out a curse.

Apparently settled, Henry's hand slid back around, seeking—

He wrapped his fingers around Hans's cock. Hans made a low noise, rumbling out of his chest like thunder. He was so fucking hard, so fucking ready.

"Henry—"

"Yes?"

"Fucking Hell, Henry—"

Henry laughed again, the bastard. And then began to move. He thrust into the space between Hans's thighs slowly and deliberately, matching his pace and speed with his fist around Hans's cock. Hans tried to move back to match his rhythm, shuffling together like a dance, like a coordinated fight. Push and pull, thrust and parry, Henry to the hilt between his thighs, Hans sheathed in his hand.

Christ, but it was good. It was better than it had been last night - lacking the intensity and the desperation, but imbued with something else, something better. There was no fear, no rush, no lustful panic: just them, beneath the covers, all but joined. He could have stayed like this forever, trapped on the cusp of release, Henry wrapped around him in every way that mattered.

He flexed his thighs as he pushed back against Henry's cock, the movement nearly instinctual. He was barely in control of his body, and certainly not in control of his tongue as filthy, lustful words dripped from it the further Henry pushed him.

"Henry— fuck— yes— your prick, I need— I want— Shit—"

Henry said nothing, but the sounds he was making, lips pressed against Hans's neck, were enough for Hans to see how affected he was. Short little moans, cut-off grunts, breaths that came too short and peppered with the occasional gasp or curse. He was losing rhythm, they both were, unable to maintain pace against the growing tide within him. 

"Henry, bloody hell, Henry, I—"

And then he couldn't speak any more, only breathe out ragged gasps as he spent fully and irrevocably over the sheet and the bed and Henry's hand. As he did, he clenched his thighs, and behind him Henry made a little noise - somewhere between pleasure and pain - and he, too, was coming hot and wet and sticky between Hans's thighs.

He floated on it, lost in the rush for a long while, feeling his heart begin to slow. Henry moved his hand back to Hans's chest, holding him. Now Hans knew he could feel his heartbeat; there was no way he couldn't, not with how much it was thundering. They lay together, their breaths coming out at odds with each other as they both drifted back, slowly, to reality.

It was Henry who let go first, easing back. His cock slid out from between Hans's thighs. The sensation was a little odd, making Hans shiver. He rolled over as Henry leaned back, eager to see if he had been left feeling as raw and ragged as Hans had.

Henry smiled at him as he twisted around. He looked tired, his skin sheened with sweat, his eyes lidded.

"Fuck," Henry rasped, looking pleased with himself.

"That's what I was about to say," Hans agreed. "Christ alive..."

He took Henry's hand, damp with sweat and a little sticky with Hans's own seed. He rubbed his thumb across the back of Henry's fingers, then raised them to a kiss; gentle and breathy. He wasn't sure he was capable of much else.

He needed to get up. He needed to wipe them both down, to clean them both up. To take charge and look after Henry as Henry had looked after him. But he was utterly spent, body limp and boneless. It was all he could do to shuffle back into his braies, let alone anything more strenuous. The sheets, he knew, could wait. The sweat could wait. The dream of a bath in his near future was one that he was content to leave where it was; in the future.

He edged forwards. "Henry—"

He kissed him. He tried to pack it with meaning, with the words he was too tired to say; the confessions he was too proud and too afraid to make. He kissed him with slow reverence, the sort of kiss Henry deserved. One which Hans didn’t feel qualified to bestow.

When they parted, Henry’s eyes were wide, his lips pink and shining.

“You…” Hans took a breath. His heart felt full, and frightened. “Henry, I…” his breath caught. His nerves gave out, too frayed and exhausted to do otherwise. “I’m glad you’re here,” he said. “With me.”

Henry’s answering smile was gentle and soft; as if he’d known, somehow, the truth Hans had buried in those words.

“Me too.”

Hans fell asleep with Henry wrapped in his arms, their bodies sticky and hot and too large for the tiny bed. The world beyond the room - beyond the keep, beyond Rattay, beyond Bohemia and away - twirled on, centred and spinning around the man pressed against his chest.

[phoenixeclipse-lmkau]

You know, my butt in any of the yandere Shadowpeach x reader au’s would probably just accept my fate pretty easily. I can’t outrun them, I can’t fight them, and I can’t verbally assault them forever (though I would try but keeping anger is exhausting).

However, what the two probably will soon come to find out is that even though I may be their wife(or husband), doesn’t mean I won’t ever stop being petty.

That means if I can’t go somewhere, like a lake or the orchards to relax by myself, good luck finding me in the entire palace or house because I will hole myself up in the most tiny place that the two massive monkey demons could not go and where I should never have been able to fit into.

If they keep me in their nest for too long, I will find a way to perch above their heads. How I got there will be a mystery that neither servant nor guard will ever know.

If they want kisses, they’ll have to earn them by doing what I want for once. If they don’t like it, well, I don’t mind being quiet for a few months.

Again, I’m petty but not heartless. So cubs will easily make me cave, but not for long.

Anyways, wanted to give you a chance to write reader in any of your aus as petty.

Tiny space

Ooh! I like this!

You found it when you were looking through the walk in wardrobe they had made. There were many nooks and crannies in it, all designed to house all kinds of clothing from silk to straight up armor. So when you found a small box empty with just enough room for you to huddle in you found yourself doing just that.

It was cozy with just the right amount of space, hidden in to corner where you couldn’t see unless you were purposefully looking. Not to mention as you calmed your breathing and took out a book to read you found it to be the perfect reading nook!

Of course it wasn’t as peaceful when the duo ran through the room looking for you.

“How the hell did you get in there!?” Wukong shouts in shock as he stares at your comfortable spot.

You just grinned as Macaque joined his mate, pouting when they realized it was too small to give you cuddles in. Wukong would have dragged you out if not for Macaque shadow portalling you to their bed.

No kisses

“What do you mean no kisses!?” Wukong gawked as you crossed your arms over your chest and looked away.

“Just that, there will be NO kisses until you earn them,” You responded with a fierce determination on your face. Both of the demons looked at each other and then back at you with the most adorable pouts on their faces.

However, it didn’t sway you and you quickly turned around and crossed your arms, refusing to acknowledge their attempts at getting your attention. No, you were going to let them simply suffer.

The duo would absolutely hate that you are doing this, especially if it’s after they’ve already gotten kisses from you.

Wukong might even sneak a kiss on your cheek just to rile you up and make you mad at him.

Macaque would probably get some cubs to help him rather quickly, he knows how much you like cubs. After all that’s why you helped him and Wukong all those years ago. You wanted to save them as cubs so they would use this to their advantage without much thought.

[superpowereddonut]

Let me take care of my girl (Bodhi Durran x Reader)

Pairing: Bodhi Durran x Reader (no use of Y/N)

Summary: Bodhi just wants to take care of his girl after she was injured during a wyvern attack.

NB: No Onyx Storm spoilers, but definite Iron Flame spoilers. This is set after half the cadets join the revolution, but before the Battle of Basgiath.

This can be read as a stand alone one-shot, or as a continuation from Reassurance

Warnings: Mentions of injuries sustained in battle and civilian casualties, they get naked and have a shower but it isn't sexual lol

Word count: 3.36k

*****

Everything hurt.

From the incessant pounding in your head, to the sharp pain that radiated from your ribs with every breath, to the ache that heated your very bones. 

You were spent.

Beneath you, your dragon Dìoghaltas was still flying relentlessly, though you could feel a trickle of her exhaustion through the bond. Each wingbeat seemed to take more effort than the last.

I am perfectly fine, she said firmly.

Don’t lie, Dìogh. We both know you are as injured and tired as I am. 

You could still remember your scream of panic when a particularly savage wyvern had torn a deep gash in her thigh. Thankfully, it had stopped bleeding a few hours ago.

She huffed indignantly, though there was still a weariness to her next words. Dragons are not as fragile as humans.

But just as stubborn, you sighed.

Dìogh didn’t respond, though you could feel her mental eye roll.

You adjusted carefully in your seat, trying to find a more comfortable position among her green scales that didn’t jostle your body so much. You were pretty sure your ribs were at least fractured. Possibly broken. Not to mention the unnatural angle of your wrist where you cradled it against your chest. Definitely broken.

The attack had been swift and brutal. As a second lieutenant, you had been stationed at Anca, a Poromish city that was on the frontlines against venin and wyvern, for almost a month now. Ever since the rebellion had become a revolution. Ever since Xaden and Violet had revealed the truth in Basgiath — secrecy be damned — and half of the war college had flown for Aretia. 

You knew that the Assembly was pissed. There were now over a hundred cadets and almost fifty rotating lieutenants stuffed into Riorson House, with barely enough resources to accommodate them and their dragons. And according to Bodhi’s letters, while they now at least had a luminary to forge weapons in Aretia, there were also a hundred fliers and their gryphons to contend with. Even though you’d been working with fliers since your first year, assisting with weapons drops with Garrick and Xaden, you knew how deep the tensions ran. Fliers had killed dozens of riders, and riders had killed hundreds of fliers. Things weren’t going to be pretty.

Still, you couldn’t help but be thankful that Xaden had decided to finally expose the revolution. Everyone knew you were traitors now. There was no need for covert missions under the cover of darkness. No need to go along with the lie and pretend to respect the cowards in Navarrian leadership. The relic winding up your arm no longer had to be hidden shamefully, but could now be shown off proudly. You had known the truth. You had fought on the right side of history. Your parents' deaths were not in vain. They had been vindicated.

You fought to swallow the lump of emotion clogging your throat. Equal parts rage and sorrow, it surged every time you remembered your mother and father, standing proud and defiant as General Sorrengail executed them. You’d found yourself thinking about them more often recently, as you fought beyond the wards in Poromiel, fighting for the people they had died for. Would they be proud?

Not right now, surely. You’d lost. Anca had fallen to a sudden large-scale attack in the early hours of this morning. It had only been a matter of time, you knew, since neighbouring Zolya had been overrun two months ago. But still, the failure stung. You’d jerked out of bed at the panicked warning of your dragon and been airborne within five minutes, along with the rest of the riot that were stationed at the Poromish midland post. But it hadn’t been enough. Within the hour, four riders and two dragons were dead. As were an unknown number of gryphons and their fliers. You’d been forced to drop back when a group of green-fire wyvern had broken through your defenses and set the entire city of Anca alight. Fury and grief rushed over you in a tidal wave as you thought of all the citizens who had been killed. Many of them had been evacuated over the last few weeks, and a few had managed to flee before their homes were set ablaze. But not enough. There had been a fire-wielding venin there. The balance to you. 

You did what you could, came Dìogh’s steady voice.

And it wasn’t enough, you replied.

You fought bravely, and killed many. There was no room for argument in her tone. I am proud to have you as my rider.

You sighed. While her words didn’t erase the guilt weighing on your chest, it did soften its edge slightly. Dìogh was rarely so… soothing. I am proud to have you as my dragon.

You could see her puff of steam from where you sat. Obviously.

Glancing back, squinting against the setting sun, you caught sight of the brown swordtail behind you and the two gryphons flanking it, their respective riders and fliers drooping with exhaustion. Everyone was flying undoubtedly slower than usual, but you would all make it. 

While most of the surviving riot and drift had flown west to take up positions at Newhall, another Poromish post, your small group consisted of those most injured from the battle, and had been commanded to fly for Aretia. To Brennan, the only mender in the revolution. 

Gods, Bodhi was going to freak out.

Bodhi.

He was the other reason you were so happy that the revolution was finally out in the open. For now, he was continuing his third year there with the rest of the Basgiath cadets. He was home. And while you knew he itched to be on the frontlines with you, you were selfishly glad that he wasn’t. Violet was working on getting the wards up, and he was safe. The two of you had subsisted on letters back and forth since you had been sent to the front, but nothing compared to seeing him, touching him, feeling him.

We’re approaching the valley, Dìogh informed you a mere second before banking sharply to the left. You grunted, tensing your overworked muscles to brace against the change in direction, but didn’t dare complain. It was more warning than your dragon usually gave you. You heard the sound of wingbeats behind you as the others banked as well, following your green scorpiontail down to the valley above Riorson House.

Dìogh touched down gently in the grass a few minutes later, and you patted her front foot appreciatively as you climbed down, telling her sternly to rest before limping towards the rocky path at the valley’s end. 

Despite the protest of your throbbing injuries, you asked the first cadet you saw to take you to Xaden instead of Brennan, repeating your mantra in your head: Debrief first, heal second, shower and collapse last. The cadet was unfamiliar, likely a first-year, but he took one look at the blood staining your flight jacket and complied without a word, leading you down the hall to the Assembly chamber before scurrying away as you opened the door with your good arm. 

You huffed a quiet laugh. Good to see Xaden still had everyone terrified.

“Fucking hell.” Xaden had been standing alone at the far end of the hall, studying the huge map on the wall, but as you limped in, he turned and strode towards you.

He looked tired and tense, but there was a certain lightness to him whenever he was in Aretia. You saw the same in Bodhi, Garrick, and Imogen. Felt it in yourself. In all of the marked ones that grew up here. Even though your family’s house had been burnt following the executions, this would always be home.

You gave him a tight smile that was probably more of a grimace. “Missed me?” 

He ignored your attempt at teasing, his dark eyes scanning you from head to toe, cataloguing injuries. “Explain,” he snapped, once he had assured himself you weren’t actively dying.

You told him of the attack, outlining the loss of life and the tactical retreat as efficiently and emotionlessly as you could, just as you had been trained. He listened silently, his face unreadable.

“Are you okay?” He asked when you finished your report. 

Anyone else might have thought his tone was cold. Disinterested even. But you knew Xaden — had known him since he was just a kid; When he would run down the corridors of this very house and laugh as you pranked Bodhi together. You could see his concern in the crease of his brow and the tightness of his mouth. The guilt in the clench of his jaw and the curl of his fingers.

“I’ll be fine. Just need a quick trip to see Brennan and a nice long sleep,” you assured him, “I can be back at the front within the week.”

He lifted a scarred brow, and you knew he hadn’t been asking about your physical injuries. But he let it go and smirked down at you instead. “And perhaps a visit from a certain cousin of mine?” he suggested. “Sgaeyl saw Dìogh land. I’d bet Cuir did too.”

You rolled your eyes at his teasing tone, even as warmth filled your chest at the thought of seeing Bodhi. “Shut up, Riorson.”

He just chuckled and patted you gently on the shoulder. “Go on, go get fixed up,” he said.

As you reached the door, he called out again. “Stay for ten days before going back to the front. That’s an order.”

You flashed him a grateful smile and headed to look for Brennan.

*****

Thirty minutes later, you were finally, finally, on your way to your room. Your feet were dragging with every step, and though your injuries were now healed, the exhaustion was bone-deep and aching.

Two flights of stairs… one flight of stairs…half— Pink hair and pale green eyes suddenly filled your vision. Imogen.

“What the fuck happened to you?” Her voice was loud enough to make you flinch, but you accepted her quick, rough hug with a tired smile. Imogen was terrible with emotions, and even worse with physical affection, but every now and then, she surprised you.

“You should see the other guy,” you responded with a half-shrug, and to your relief she fell into step as you continued up the stairs, knowing if you lost your momentum you might just curl up to sleep right there.

“How bad?” she asked tightly.

You sighed. “Four riders and two dragons dead. More gryphons. Four of us were injured enough to come here, but the rest retreated further west.”

Imogen sucked in a sharp breath and fidgeted with her bright hair, sweeping it away from her face. “Is— I mean, did—”

Usually, you would force her to ask what was clearly at the tip of her tongue, push her to voice her concerns. But you had no energy for it tonight. “Garrick’s fine. He nearly burnt himself out trying to change the wind direction, and Chradh took a minor hit to his wing, but they were both okay enough to fly with the rest of the riot to Newhall.”

Imogen relaxed slightly, but narrowed her eyes at you. “That’s not what I was going to ask.”

“Sure it wasn’t,” you snorted. You reached the landing and turned to the corridor on the left, leaving her standing on the top step. “Goodnight, lover girl.”

“Goodnight, nosy.”

You were so close you could almost feel the silk of your bedsheets as you slowly made your way down the dark hallway, lit only by the occasional mage light. A glance to the right showed that night had fully set in outside, the moonlight barely bright enough to make out the mountains in the distance. Dinner was probably almost over, and while this area was restricted to family and close friends, the corridors would be full of cadets pushing and shoving their way to their own rooms any minute.

Pushing your sore legs to move a little faster, your bedroom door finally came into view, but there was a large shadow leaning against it. Bodhi.

He turned his head at the soft shuffle of your boots against the carpet, and even though his face paled at the sight of your bloody clothes, he smiled softly as you came to a stop in front of him.

You couldn’t have stopped your own grin if you tried.

“Hi,” he whispered, stepping closer to wrap you in his arms. You breathed deeply, taking in the comforting smell of leather and spice, and a small knot in your chest finally unraveled for the first time in almost a month. His arms were loose, careful around your back, as though he was afraid he might hurt you. But you burrowed further into his embrace, grumbling that you weren’t made of glass, and he pulled you tighter against his chest with a rumbling laugh. Gods, how you loved that laugh.

You could have stayed like that forever, content to fall asleep in the hallway while his strong arms held you up, but he leaned back slightly, brushing strands of hair away from your forehead with tender fingers.

“I was so worried about you,” he said, his voice cracking. “Cuir said that Dìogh had some pretty bad injuries and that you weren’t much better.”

You moved closer to kiss him softly, sliding your hands down to rest on his broad chest. “I’m okay. Dìogh’s okay,” you said as you pulled back.

His eyes fluttered shut, and his hands moved to grip your waist, as though reminding himself you were there.

You were real and alive and okay.

“We…” your voice shook and his eyes immediately opened again. “We lost four riders. And a lot of innocent civilians.”

“Oh, my love,” he murmured. “Come ‘ere.”

He swept you up again, but this time lifted you off the ground, tapping you on the hip to encourage you to wrap your legs around him. You buried your head into the crook of his neck as he turned and opened your door, walking you both inside. He continued all the way to the small attached bathroom, and placed you smoothly on the granite counter. 

Another tender kiss to your lips, before he knelt down on the cold tiles before you. You watched with quiet adoration as he deftly untied your laces and slipped off your boots, before removing your socks and then standing. You shrugged off your flight jacket, and he expertly unbuckled the straps holding your sword to your back, and the sheaths that held your daggers. He helped you move your still-tender limbs to carefully strip you of your uniform. Between each weapon or piece of clothing that he removed, he leant forwards to press a loving kiss — first to your forehead, then your temple, your cheek, the corner of your mouth. Finally, when you sat there in just your bra and underwear, he turned the shower on, and began to shuck off his own clothes.

Reluctance and regret filled you as you watched his uniform join yours in a pile on the ground, and the gorgeous, tawny-brown skin of his torso ripple with movement. “I— I’m sorry, Bodhi,” you stammered, “Not tonight— I’m just so tired—” 

His gaze snapped to yours and his brow furrowed at the hesitance he must've seen there. “Hey, hey,” he said, taking a step forward, now clad in just his boxers. “I don’t want anything from you, I promise, I just want to help.” He cupped your cheek with his warm palm and you leant into it instinctively. “I’ll leave right now if you ask me to, but you look like you’ll fall asleep standing up, and I don’t think you want to escape a warrior’s death just to drown in your own shower.”

The corner of your mouth twitched and he swiped his thumb comfortingly over your cheek. 

“Let me take care of you, my love,” he whispered. 

You nodded, already feeling guilty for misunderstanding his intentions. Bodhi had always been thoughtful and devoted, had never misread your desire— or lack thereof. Of course he just wanted to help.

He helped ease you off the counter, then stripped his boxers off with one hand and unstrapped your bra with the other.

Damn, even when you weren’t in the mood, that was hot.

The water temperature was perfect and you let out a groan as it pounded over your aching muscles. Wordlessly, Bodhi lathered up your washcloth with soap, but didn’t touch you. Instead, he waited for you to meet his gaze before asking, “Is this okay? Or do you want to do it yourself?” 

Your heart strained at the sincerity in his voice. He’d touched you a thousand times before, in every intimate place, but he was still asking. Tentatively. Letting you lead in case your boundaries had shifted. “Can you do it? Please?”

His answering smile was beautiful. Slowly, he turned you around and began ever-so-gently washing the blood and sweat from your skin. He was sweet and attentive and methodical, letting you lean on him more and more as your sleepiness grew with each relaxing movement.

You half-heartedly offered to return the favour and reached for the washcloth yourself, but he wouldn’t hear of it. Eventually, he finished washing and carefully brushing your hair, and turned off the water, before bundling you in a soft towel and pushing you gently towards the bedroom, his own towel slung low about his hips. You were half-asleep by the time he helped you into soft pants and an oversized t-shirt — an old one of his, he was amused to find. He looked for a minute like he might tuck you into bed and leave, but you shot out a hand to grasp his, and pulled lightly on it. “Stay,” you begged.

He wasted no time, dressing quickly in a pair of sleep pants that he always kept in your dresser and climbing under the covers with you. He opened his arms and you happily settled onto his warm chest, one leg thrown over his as he stroked lightly along your arm.

You lay there in silence, soothed by his steady heartbeat and the distant sound of doors closing and cadets talking in the hallways beyond.

But you could feel the tension still lingering in Bodhi’s frame. “Did you really think I was trying to get into your pants before?” he breathed into the darkness. There was no mistaking the concern in his voice.

Guilt washed over you as you realised how much your small misunderstanding had troubled him. And truthfully, you did know he would never try to initiate sex when you were so obviously hurt and tired. But somewhere in your befuddled state, you’d simply assumed that was where he was leading when he’d taken off his clothes.

“Sort of,” you admitted, “but I think it was only because I’ve been thinking of jumping your bones pretty much every day since I last saw you.”

He didn’t answer, just hummed noncommittally and continued rubbing absentminded circles on your shoulder.

“I’m serious. I imagined our reunion about a hundred ways, and all of them involved immediate, passionate love-making.” His chest vibrated with a laugh. “So when I saw your delicious muscles on display—” you tapped his toned abdomen for emphasis— “I just thought it was my dreams coming true.”

Bodhi lifted his head and looked down at you, his caramel-brown eyes immediately seeking yours. “I would never want to do anything that you’re not in the mood for, and I never, ever, want you to feel pressured,” he said firmly. “I’d be happy just holding your hand for the rest of our lives, if that’s what you wanted.”

You smiled up at him. “I do know that, and I’ve never felt anything but safe around you.”

There was a pause as you lay yourself back against his chest and he rested his head again on his pillow. 

“But I think I’d die if I had to go without sex with you for the rest of my life,” you continued. “Trust me, tomorrow we aren’t leaving this bed.”

He laughed again and pressed a kiss to your hair. “Deal.”

[imraespace]

:LOAD SAVE FILE: BLADE X READER ARE YOU DEAD SERIOUS? || 27 PICS , 1.6K WORDS

GAME LOG: STELLARON HUNTERS, ASTRAL EXPRESS, two very popular channels known for their ghost hunting and rivalry, but it seems a certain tweet showed that there's a hidden connection between these channels.

You stared at your phone screen with a groan leaving your lips. Unluckily for you, you failed to see the last few messages and threw on a random hoodie. Best you get this camera now rather than waiting!

As soon as you step out of your apartment, the slowly setting sun hits your face, blinding you a bit.

"..Maybe I should go back in and sleep! Or watch a movie.." You mumbled to yourself, yet did the opposite as you locked your door and made your way down.

Not much time passed as you stood by the side of the road, waiting for a car, not hiding the yawn that escaped your mouth. In the meantime, you checked your phone from time to time, finally catching Himeko's messages, but brushed them aside; she will just have to repay you!

Finally, the honk of a car's horn caught your attention, causing your fingers to brush past the phone's power button, turning it off as your legs moved towards the car.

A greeting left your mouth as you entered the car, giving the driver your desired location, then made yourself comfortable, that is, until your eyes landed on the person beside you.

A small gasp left you as you found out that none other than the popular Blade is seated right next to you! He acknowledged you for a bit, then went back to his phone, carrying on with his day.

You huffed, turning to face your window while resting your chin in your palm. You, personally, had no problem with him, you had ZERO problems with the Stellaron Hunters actually, but.. fans made the rivalry. Two big channels that do the same thing? There can only be one!!

In fact, you've met with them before here and there, and they were nice! Except emo ass over here.. Maybe he's not talkative! Or he has a stick up his ass! But who are you to judge?

You sighed, enjoying the view outside until a random snap outside broke you out of your thoughts. "Huh?" you muttered, looking around and finding Blade looking in your direction, sharing the same confusion.

You shrugged your shoulders at him, turning back to see if you could find anything, but nothing was found. Sadly, there was nothing you could've done as your trip was over when the store came to view.

You bid them both goodbye, carrying on with your evening but oh boy.

Without any knowledge of what is happening right now, you continued with your task, finishing up for the night and making your way back home and instantly decided to catch some zzz's.

.

.

.

At 5:00AM, you received an email. It simply read:

"Blade <yingxing@gmail.com> to me 🠻

"You clearly caused us a problem, and I have to deal with it on my own, so therefore I am reaching out to you. My number is xxx-xxxx. Message me when you can."

Only then at 9:00AM, when you woke up, still clueless of what has been happening, then you checked his email.

"I caused a problem?" You muttered to yourself, rubbing your eyes. You then checked your messages, media, and only then your jaw dropped, and you flew to his number!

True to your words, you did indeed sleep after that! But there was a nagging feeling that you actually solved nothing, and no one believed you.

So you decided that if Blade wants to just throw it under the bus, then maybe you will take action on your own!

And you did just that when you started banging on Dan Heng's door! The poor boy was a bit confused to see you banging on his door at 11:00 AM, but his channel consists of ghosts, so nothing surprises him anymore.

"Good morning..?" He muttered, staring down at you.

"Hi best buddy Dan! May I come in?" You asked, flashing him a small smile.

He moved aside, inviting you into his apartment. You both are kinda neighbours so..

You made yourself comfortable on his couch, fixing yourself then looked straight at him.

"I need your help." You suddenly said. The boy ssighed, simply moving your legs then sat on the couch.

"With?"

"Blade, you both used to be friends, right?" The sudden mention of his old friend caught his attention, but then he remembered the situation you're in.

"Yes, what do you need?" He asked.

"How do I befriend him?"

.

.

.

"Uh.. he's changed a lot, so I can't really help you with that."

"Thanks for the help.. not.." You muttered, rolling your eyes. You sighed at the zero help, but you kind of thought this would be the response you would get. Dan doesn't really talk about his past with Blade.

"Well, you don't mind me getting close with him?"

"No. You do you."

And that you did! You went back home, and for three consistent days, you nagged poor Blade with messages.

(i hit the limit😂😂😒😒🖕🏽) click here to view the last few messages between them!

After sending Blade the location, at almost 11:00 PM, you changed into some presentable clothing and made your way towards your favorite 24-hour store!

The walk was quiet, hushed, but for some reason, this walk felt a bit uneasy. You don't normally go on late-night walks, but the excitement from texting Blade, completely forgetting the thought of him even accepting it, maybe not even showing up.

You giggled at yourself, don't you do ghost hunting videos.. WHY are you scared of a walk to a store..

You took a few looks behind your back, noticing that the street is empty, quiet. You're alone. The only light produced is from the street lights.

Slowly, your footsteps quicken, but for some reason, it felt as if you were walking in place, not moving one bit. How far was this store again?

Your steps slowed, but your heart didn't. Maybe.. for starters you will quit this ghost shit because what the flip! And secondly, maybe it's payback for annoying Blade.. Nah!

But then you heard footsteps, slowly, making their way. The hairs on the back of your neck stood as the footsteps grew louder. You've dealt with ghosts, though normally you're with professionals (Welt) and with friends.

What did you normally do in videos? Panic.. sounds about right! You breaths quicked, footsteps growing louder, eyes growing in size and then..

A hand rested on your shoulder, causing a scream to leave your lips, hand flying to hit whatever was behind you, but unfortunately, your hand came in contact with.. nothing.

A small timid mumbled left your mouth, stepping back but your back came in contact with something..

Another scream left your mout as you closed your eyes shut but a familiar voice came to your sense of hearing.

"..Are you okay or..?"

You whipped your head in the direction, and suddenly, the view of the store was clear; actually, you were right in front of it. Without knowing, a few teardrops fell on your cheek as your eyes came in contact with him.

"Oh you actually came.." You muttered.

Blade rose his eyebrows in confusion.

"Are you going to answer me? You were just standing there hyperventilating." He simply stated.

"I was?"

He sighed, looking behind you, then locked back eye contact with you.

"Let's get ice cream."

Oh yeah, that's why you left your house. Though your excited mood is not so excited anymore, and Blade noticed. He noticed how shaky you were, how you nodded, and quickly made it into the store.

He thought about it, he may look cruel on he outside and actually he is mean without trying, but he has.. a somewhat heart, and took it upon himself to make you feel better.

He enetered the store and saw you just staring off into the distance.

"Did you pick out your ice cream flavor?" He asked, walking up to the freezer beside you, pulling out a random ice cream.

"Huh? Oh, right.." You mumbled, taking out one. But to your surprise, he took it from your hand and walked away leaving you with one request:

"You can buy more snacks, meet me at the cash register."

You blinked at his words, then did as he said with a small smile, who's gonna turn down free snacks!

.

.

.

After grabbing everything you wanted, you made it to the cash register, and Blade actually bought you everything you grabbed!

You both left the store, and the chills were back, and he noticed thankfully.

"Do you want me to walk you back home?" He asked.

You sighed, not hiding the disappointment on your face.

"I kinda.. wanted to hang out with you." You muttered.

He stared at your saddened face and the bag of snacks in your hand, then held his face in his hand, regretting the words that is about to leave his mouth.

"Do you want to spend some time at my place? I'm not going at yours."

"REALLY?" Oh, it seems you're back to normal!

His head shook a bit, giving you the green light.

"ICE CREAM EATING CHALLENGE HERE WE GO!"

You exclaimed, running as Blade followed behind to tell you that you're going in the wrong direction.

But your reaction stayed the same, after a spooky ghost session with your crew, you always ate ice cream to calm your nerves, but it seems the tradition has to stay.

At least you got an extra sweet (sour) treat this time! Blade!

As the view of his apartment came clear, your movements stopped as you turned around to face him with a bright smile, but then..

Snap!

You both turned in the direction of a now running fan.

"Are you serious.." He muttered.