#this is not “deliberately missing the point” i AGREE with your point i SAID I AGREE WITH YOUR POINT?

[mangled-by-disuse]

solitary confinement isn't for anyone. innocent OR guilty. it is a torture method which has no benefit for prisoners or society, increases violent behaviours and reoffending, and most importantly, inflicts lifelong trauma and psychological damage.

luigi mangione is not the only innocent man subjected to torture in prison. you know more about his case than most cases. the crime he is accused of is higher-profile than most cases. this does not mean that people accused of less publicised crimes are either automatically guilty OR treated better.

literally this does not detract from the point of your post as I understood it, which is that Mangione is an innocent man who is being tortured and humiliated without due process. however: 3a. This is possible because the system is set up to torture and humiliate, and because the people doing it have been emboldened by CENTURIES of incarcerating and torturing people without due process. 3b. THE SYSTEM DOES NOT WORK THE WAY YOU IMPLY IT DOES. THE SYSTEM DOES NOT DISCRIMINATE BETWEEN THE INNOCENT AND THE GUILTY, AND IT NEVER FUCKING HAS. 3c. THE REASON THE SYSTEM PERSISTS AND HAS THE POWER TO ACT THIS WAY IS THAT PEOPLE ASSUME THAT ITS TORTURES ARE RESERVED FOR PEOPLE WE CAN ALL AGREE ARE EVIL.

If you think this is me underplaying what Luigi Mangione is going through, then you are grossly misunderstanding me. My point is: this is worse than you are making it sound.

Mangione's case should not be framed as "he is being treated worse than anyone else has been treated". It should be seen for what it is: an extreme example of the violence, injustice, and brutality that is entrenched in the criminal justice system. You pointed this out with the NYPD's history of corruption.

If you view Mangione's case as a uniquely terrible one, you inherently overlook the infrastructure and systems that allow this to happen so readily and so easily, over and over again.

and you also, by the way, suggest that everyone else who has been put in solitary confinement or suffered targeted brutalisation and humiliation was guilty. was a cannibal or a serial killer or a murderer. was a lesser person. that they deserved it.

So to catch you up to speed

Luigi Mangione is an innocent man who has not been confirmed to have been involved in any crime.

We have police documents confirming he was not DNA tested or fingerprinted, and confirmation no usable DNA or fingerprints were recovered at the crime scene due to incomplete prints and immense DNA contamination of New Yorks streets.

No evidence has linked him to the crime.

No facial recognition has even remotely come close to identifying the cctv suspects face as that of Luigi. His own family and friends do not see a resemblance. Most people agree the features in the cctv do not match the very well documented features of Luigi Mangione.

Luigi Mangione has no history of violence nor with firearms. He is a vegan pacifist with no history of mental illness and an aversion to killing even bugs.

He is still only a SUSPECT and all involvement in any crimes are merely ALLEGED at this time. Alleged by the most corrupt police force in the entire nation; the NYPD who do more organized crime than they've ever stopped.

Luigi Mangione's attorneys confirmed they have been shown absolutely nothing that even places Luigi at the scene of the crime.

People have repeatedly tried to recreate the entire timeline of events and found it is not physically possible to do what was alleged in the time frame police gave. Especially dubious for Luigi Mangione to have done given his recent, crippling back injury.

Luigi Mangione in his own words has said police planted evidence on him and are not being honest about his arrest or what he had on him at the time.

There is no body cam footage of Luigi's arrest.

There is no autopsy report for Brian Thompson.

Luigi has so far been:

Stripped of his hat, jacket and shoes and forced to walk in the cold in December wearing wet socks.

Forced to urinate on himself where police then took and published humiliation photos of him.

He was then stripped of his shirt pants and socks and put in a blue psychiatric gown and strapped to a chair inmates called "the torture chair" and left for prolonged periods of time. To the point the entire inmate population at the prison protested in anger.

He was slammed unto a brick wall, choked, and shoved by various police officers for no reason.

Was marched through nyc at gunpoint by officers with military firearms, forced to wear chains

Was called a murderer by the mayor of NYC on national television.

Was then placed in solitary confinement for weeks. Something extremely damaging psychologically to be exposed to for even just a few days. Something usually reserved for cannibals.

He is now being forced to sleep on the floor despite again, a crippling back injury.

Again, he has not even had trial yet. He is an innocent man by the very definition of the law. He has nothing tying him to any crime. And even the crime itself was a nobody being shot in a city where nobodies are shot everyday, seven days a week. And those shooters don't get this treatment. Cannibals don't get this treatment. Serial killers don't get this treatment. Why are they doing this? Because we entered an oligarchy and they want people who are rich to matter more than people who are not. The NO ONE, no name, insignificant person that Brian THOMPSON always was and WILL ALWAYS BE is more important because of his net worth, to the fascist oligarchy we've entered into, than the innocent man, data scientist and robotics engineer with a promising future that is Luigi Mangione.

The NYPD doesn't want him to be innocent. They are torturing him gleefully and postponing his trial because they know he's innocent. They just want to scare the public into understanding that the ultra rich, even those who's names will never be remembered as anything other than markings on a never visited tombstone, are the only persons who matter now. Not yours. Never yours. You're poor. They'll torture you without a trial too. Your life means nothing to them. Your children dying in school shootings means nothing to them. Pinning a crime on an innocent man they can beat to scare the public out of class consciousness is the only thing that matters to them now. Depose them.

[deeplyshalllow]

An in depth study of Fiyero and Elphaba's first meeting in the Wicked movie

So I've wanted to do an analysis of this scene from the moment I saw it. It's such a great addition to canon and gives such a fascinating insight into both of their personalities and the facades they put on to others. It also gives hints of the fact that both of them are pretty good at breaking down each other's walls.

From the top:

“Woah, Woah there, woah.”

“I did not see her.”

“Yeah, neither did I.”

“You might want to, um”

“Ok.”

“You know,”

“Yeah. I’m so sorry miss, I didn’t see you there, you must have...”

The first impression we get of Fiyero is that he’s kind. Obviously careless enough to hit a girl in the dark, but he immediately slows down and, even before Feldspar has told him to apologise, he’s got down and is about to make his way over.

It’s also important to note we that seeing him talk to a Horse as a friend, when just the scene prior we have seen that a large amount of the population don’t want Animals to talk at all. In fact, this is the only other human we see friends with an Animal in the entire movie, and it sets up immediately the fact that he will agree with Elphaba on her cause.

“...blended with the foliage.”

Here is his first reaction to Elphaba’s greenness. It is the rudest thing that Fiyero says to her all scene, and something that immediately puts Elphaba on the defensive, having heard shit like this all her life, but it’s also very on par with Fiyero and his constant habit of saying dumb shit whenever Elphaba is around (“yeah, or maybe it scratched me or something,” and “well, actually it was, but it wasn’t” come to mind), he’s surprised and he reacts with humour (something we see he does a lot).

It’s interesting to contrast this to his musical comment, “Well maybe the driver saw green and thought it meant go,” which is a lot more pointed and insulting, blaming the situation on her (though to be fair she does wake him up and attack him for what his carriage driver did), Fiyero in the movie reacts dumbly but not maliciously.

“Is this how you go through life? Just running amuck and trampling anyone in your path?”

Elphaba is immediately on the defensive. She’s already stressed about Doctor Dillamond, pissed off about being knocked over and now, as usual, she has met a new person who is insulting her skin tone. So she does what she does best, she puts her walls up and hides behind them.

“No.”

*Feldspar laughs*

Fiyero is shocked by this attack. He’s naturally charming, to the point where he relies on his charm to get him out of situations. So the fact it doesn’t work stuns him a little. This is why Feldspar laughs, because he knows Fiyero and how he normally acts, and it is funny to see him not immediately manage the situation.

“No, sometimes I’m asleep.” *looks at her flirtily*

Fiyero recovers, his walls are back up. He’s over the shock of seeing someone green and how she’s reacted to him, so he goes back to charm by flirting with her. Notice how he is using self derogatory humour, it’s easy charm that he knows how to use – he’s trying to ease the situation by insulting himself and making her laugh. It’s also another way of cultivating his image, Fiyero very deliberately portrays himself as stupid, flirty and lazy (he sings an entire song about it!) and here he is playing it up.

Also, I’m pretty sure this is a reference to their meeting in the musical (where he is actually asleep), which is cute.

*Awkward pause*, “Yeah, alright, alright, here we go. No, I’m not seasick.”

Elphaba, who is not at all used to people flirting with her, but is used to people asking questions and insulting her skin tone – has picked up none of the playful implications and only that he is stupid and lazy, and therefore starts the rant that she’s said 100 times before.

“Neither am I.”

“No. I did not eat grass as a child.”

“Oh you didn’t? I did!”

But Fiyero starts replying! Again, it’s all charm and self derogatory humour, but he’s sensed the unease, he did not come to insult or attack her, and he’s trying to lighten the situation with his usual techniques he uses on everyone – but they are not working.

“And yes, I have always been green.”

“And the defensiveness? Is that a recent development?”

And here we see Fiyero let down his shield a little, and let on that he’s less dumb than he’s acting. Fiyero is remarkably good at understanding people, it’s how he manages to maintain his facade in the first place – and it’s how he ends up being an effective double agent through most of act 2. Fiyero immediately realises that Elphaba is putting on an act too, that she’s not just attacking him because she’s annoyed at him but that there’s something more going on there.

I love it. I love it so much. It’s such a good addition to the musical canon, because all the traits for Fiyero to be like this are already there, and it adds an extra bit of depth to our understanding of why he’s fascinated with Elphaba – because he knows that she’s another person hiding her true self from the world. It’s such a good link to the Lion Cub scene later where Elphaba pretty much calls him out on the same thing.

*Elphaba stares*

*Fiyero tries a smoulder*

“Hm.”

There is a second here where Elphaba realises that she’s been called out. That she’s attacked him when he wasn’t being malicious and it does cause her to retreat slightly.

Fiyero, now in safer territory, puts his walls back up and goes back to flirting. Elphaba, again not used to this at all, doesn’t really understand this and is still in a bad mood about the Animals, so breaks the moment.

*Feldspar laughs, Fiyero tries to shh him but laughs too.*

*Elphaba notices and stalks off.*

So this is interesting. From context clues, what Feldspar is laughing at earlier and Fiyero’s comment later, it appears he’s laughing at Fiyero, that his easy charm hasn’t worked and he’s found himself on the back foot. Fiyero, bewildered, but still playing up his persona, laughs too. Elphaba sees this and, obviously, immediately takes this as them laughing at her greenness, and therefore any goodwill from what he’s said is gone, and she stalks off.

“I’m off for some more trampling, may we offer you a ride?”

Fiyero, bless him, tries again. He’s seen he’s offended her, though probably hasn’t quite connected exactly why, and tries to make right. So he goes in with more self derogatory humour as well as a genuinely kind offer – it probably isn’t safe for her to walk back in the dark – but the moment has been lost.

“No thanks. Get stuffed.”

Elphaba’s walls are back up again. She might regret the “stuffed” comment by the end of act 2 though...

“Wow, Feldspar, we have just been spurned by a girl.”

“Indeed.”

“Guess there’s a first time for everything.”

Fiyero ends the scene baffled, unsettled, but interested. He plays it off as if he’s normal and also reassembles his walls and defensiveness, again playing into the lazy playboy persona he puts on, ready for his next scene with Galinda.

Analysis of Fiyeraba interactions in the Dancing Through Life/Ozdust Scene

Analysis of Fiyeraba interactions in the Lion Cub Scene in the movie

An In Depth Study of Elphaba and Fiyero in the Train Station Scene

[gguk-n]

Chapter 1- The Proposal

A+ in Pretend Love (Lando Norris x Reader)

Series Masterlist

Summary- The sponsor's say they'll pull out if Lando doesn't fix his ways. So, Zak stages an intervention. Y/N can't get approved for visa, no matter how hard she tries. Zak offers to help. An honest and mutually beneficial relationship is formed.

The scene is set. The MTC is almost empty to the wandering eye, but in reality, every one was sat in the huge conference hall Zak had constructed for other reason not pertaining to the one they had gathered for. "So, we're gathered here today" Zak began only to be interrupted by Oscar, "I still don't get why I'm here when this is about Lando." Zak sighed, "This is about me?" Lando asked surprised. Oscar looks at him with a raised eyebrow and then the other people at the table like in the Office. "Oscar, this is a team problem and we must deal with it as a team." Zak spoke while pinching the bridge of his nose. "Now where was I? Before I was rudely interrupted" Zak paused; "The sponsors aren't happy and want to pull away because of Lando's antics" Zak finished. "What? Why me? What about Oscar?" Lando pointed out like a child caught in trouble. "As far as I know, Oscar is extremely sponsor friendly with his long term girlfriend and polite demeanour" Zak said looking pointedly at Lando.

The table erupted in whispers, "What have I do?" Lando piped in. "The partying, the girls, the drinking. Might I continue?" Zak asked. Lando sighed, "So, what do you want me to do? Live like a monk" he asked. "No, we just need to polish up your image, make it more sponsor friendly." Zak said. "I have an idea" someone on the table suggested. "Go on" Zak prompted. "What if we say that Lando's been in a long term healthy relationship and is about to get married?" they suggested. Everyone seemed to hum in agreement. "What no? Ask me first, I'm the one involved. This is nonsense. Ask the sponsors to leave" Lando almost shouted. "Lando, you do know those sponsors are the reason you can drive in Formula One, so that we can make cars for you to race" Zak asked pointedly. Lando's shoulder's slumped, he looked at Oscar for support but he just shrugged at Lando; "Fine" Lando sighed. "So, which model is it?" he asked. "No, we need someone low- key. Out of the public eye to make this believable" someone else piped in. "But which girl will want to agree to that" someone else argued. Lando was currently a by-stander in his own life.

Finally after much deliberation, it was decided that to help Lando clear up his image; he would fake date someone who lived a normal life. And Zak would pay them to keep their mouth shut.

Y/N Y/L/N was in her last semester at University of Monaco of her Master's programme. She been living there since the start of the programme while working as a teaching assistant to gain experience towards her final goal of becoming a Professor. The university was great; culturally diverse and the job paid decently well; in her opinion. Right now, the biggest dilemma she faced was the stupid visa that for some reason wouldn't get renewed no matter how much she tried. She was sat in an almost empty cafe in the street's of Monaco, tucked away from the public. "You must understand. I'll have the job as soon as I graduate. Please extend my visa" she almost begged. "We can't Miss Y/L/N. Those are the rules. You will have to leave the country at the end of your visa" the voice replied sternly. Y/N sighed exasperated while running her hand through her hair for the hundredth time today as the call cut.

Some one else had entered the cafe during this whole ordeal, he walked up to Y/N, "Is this seat taken?" Zak asked. Y/N just nodded without looking up. "I'm sorry for eves dropping but it seems like you're having visa issues?" Zak asked. Y/N looked up, he pushed his business card forward. "I'm Zak Brown, CEO of McLaren" he introduced himself. "Y/N Y/L/N" she shook his hand. "I could help you if you'd like" he suggested. "What do you get in return?" she asked skeptically. "Well, I will have to discuss this with the person who might help you and let you know" he said. "Maybe you can forward me your CV. I can see what I can do" he spoke slowly. Y/N bit her lip before thinking, fuck it. What's the worst that could happen? and forwarded her CV to Zak. "I'll contact you as soon as possible" Zak said smiling while he walked away. "Arrange a meeting in the MTC, I have the woman for the job" Zak called his assistant.

Back at the MTC, when everyone had gathered; "So, I met this girl, around Lando's age. She is in need of help with her visa renewal" Zak said. "If she needs a visa for Monaco, wouldn't she be better off marrying Charles" Oscar interrupted. Zak sighed loudly, "Can you stop interrupting me?" he asked. "Can you stop having me attend meeting that have nothing to do with me?" Oscar retorted. "Touche" Zak relented. "So, we help her with her visa and she helps us with Lando" Zak suggested. Everyone seemed to agree unanimously. Lando was quite the whole time, he felt like he had lost any credibility since they were in trouble with the sponsors because of him. He quietly agreed to the arrangement. "Let's meet up with her. I'll arrange for a meeting. Just the three of us" he told Lando already on the phone with Y/N before Lando could even say anything.

They had decided to meet at a cafe in Monaco. The cafe was quite, with barely any customers in site. When Zak and Lando entered, they found a woman sat at one of the tables placed at the back, nursing a cup of coffee. As soon as she saw Zak, she greeted him with a smile. Lando was looking at her the whole time. Zak cleared his throat, "This is Lando Norris" he introduced Lando to her. She smiled at him, introducing herself and the three sat down when Zak began talking. "So, here's the thing, I need help" She nodded along, "If it's not money related I think I can help" she suggested. "It isn't. I need someone to help with damage control." Zak drawled. "Lando here is a Formula One driver, he drives for my team" Zak explained, watching the confusion on Y/N's face. She nodded along. "The sponsors are creating an issue, all baseless I might add. But I do want to please them and I believe, you would be of great help" Zak said. "How can I help?" she asked. "I would like it if you two would date. Maybe like a fake relationship, just for like a year or so." Zak said quickly. "I don't...this is crazy." she expressed. "I understand this is crazy, but please help me. Being with a millionaire helps" he pleaded. "He's a millionaire" Y/N asked looking at Lando now. "I might not look the part but they pay well" Lando laughed gesturing towards Zak. "This will help, they wouldn't want to cause issues for a public figure." Zak further elaborated. "Like a mutually beneficial relationship" Zak finished. "I need to think about this. All of this is too much for me" she said quickly grabbing her things to leave. Before the two men could stop her she was out of the cafe. "Told you this was a bad idea" Lando said shaking his heading, getting up to leave.

Back home, Y/N was in turmoil. She ended up googling Lando and whatever they said was true. This wasn't some MLM or cult they were trying to indoctrinate her into. And from all the news article, it seemed that Lando had bit of a reputation of partying and sleeping around. She could see why having a girlfriend would help him. She couldn't see why she could help him though. Wouldn't he do better with a model or someone famous?

A few days of her mind being plagued with thoughts of that weird meeting with Lando and Zak; the visa officer called. "Please ma'am you have to understand, I can't do anything. I can't renew your visa" he stressed. Y/N was annoyed, "Please, you can't do this" she cried. "It's out of my control" he expressed. "Please stop calling us" he warned and cut the call. Maybe, desperate times call for desperate measures.

Y/N called up Zak, "Hi, This is Y/N" she spoke slowly. "Hi, Y/N. How are you?" Zak chirped. "I'm good. I'm up for the offer. I'll date...I mean fake date Lando" she stated. "Wonderful. That's what I would've liked to hear" he gloated. "Let's meet at the same place this weekend. And please answer a few questions my assistant will email you before we meet" Zak said before cutting the call. Zak had to make a few more calls like to Lando and his assistant.

Y/N and Lando both received emails asking them questions most couples would know about each other. Y/N wasn't sure if she should fake a personality but decided against it and answered it as truly as possible.

The weekend rolled around rather quickly and the both of them were getting dressed to meet. The cafe seemed empty yet again, a strange occurrence in their eyes. The three of them greeted each other before receiving files from Zak. "These contain information about each other learn it. And this contains how you two met, fell in love and are now happily engaged" Zak said, pulling a velvet box from his pocket. He placed the box in front of Y/N which housed a beautiful ring, "It's fake, so don't worry about losing it" Zak said looking at the pair. "I think this will turn out great. Now, Y/N, Lando's home race is soon. So, two of you will make your debut then." he explained. Y/N looked at Lando, the two of their eyes locked together as Zak explained everything.

"Here's the contract and an NDA" Zak said pulling out more papers. "How long will the contract be valid for?" she asked beginning to read it. "For a year" Zak stated. "Don't you have any questions?" Y/N asked Lando. "No" he said shaking his head and proceeded to sign the contract while Y/N took her time to read through it, not wanting to be tied by anything she couldn't be able to repay. Y/N finally signed the paper after a few more minutes of going through the contract. "Welcome to the McLaren family. Don't worry about the expenses, they will be covered by us" Zak said quickly putting the contracts away. "Pleasure doing business with you" Zak remarked. "I hope we get along well" Y/N told Lando, directing her attention to him. "Hope so. My number is in my details. I'll contact you before the weekend. See you on the Thursday after this" Lando stated. "The weekend is on the Saturday or Sunday" Y/N quizzed. "Not in Formula One" Lando said, "I'll text you the details soon" he said leaving before anyone. Y/N watched both Lando and Zak leave, confused at what she had just gotten herself into.

She reached home, kicked off her shoes and plopped down on the sofa before calling her best friend. "Guess what I just did" she said as her best friend answered the call.

Tag list- @gamesetmatch-me @seonghwaexile @yootvi @hadesnumber1daughter @khaylin27 @abq654

[ggidolsmuts]

Everflow - Everglow Yiren

Blah blah blah something something something hello! That's all you understood from the words coming out of the MC's mouth. What did your publication want from this? You're not going to complain, because hey, free business trip, but what was the point of sending someone who barely understood the language? You mingle around, not recognizing any of your fellow colleagues, but you do notice someone.

"Hello, you're here by yourself too?"

"No I'm— I mean yes, unfortunately." Said someone is dressed in a tiny black dress, tapping on her phone in a secluded corner all by herself. She gives you a lookover, before putting her phone back into her purse. "You're here alone too?"

"Yes. You're here for the event too?"

"Yes, work. You?"

"Same." You try to think what job would allow her to come to an event like this dressed like that, but she interrupts you with a question.

"Boring isn't it? How about we have some fun before the event starts?"

"What do you have in mind?" She grabs your wrist and pulls you in.

"Wrong question, you should be asking me." Her breath tickles your ear. "What will I get in you?"

You are left contemplating the correct question as she leads you away into a thankfully unoccupied bathroom. You press her against the sink, kissing a complete stranger just minutes, if not seconds ago. Your lips drift away from hers, moving down her chin, only for her to pull away slightly.

"No marks, and no time." The young woman answers the question for you, her hands going to your trousers to unbuckle them. She takes off her panties and hikes up her tight dress best she can. "Just pull out." With a hiss through gritted teeth you push into her.

"Oh, oh fuck you're big!" Your ego stroked by her words and tightness around you, you start slowly, easing in and out of her. But it doesn't last for long as she's begging you to get her off, adding a lot of wetness to your connection.

"More please, faster, faster!" Your lady friend braces herself against the sinktop, nails almost breaking as she grips the cold marble. With how big you are she can feel every vein and texture of your tool inside her, and it feels so fucking good. The pleasure builds up too quickly, and she has to bite her lip to stifle a scream. "MMMMMMPH!" She bites the back of her hand and muffles it best she can. The lights in the bathroom are blurry and spinning when she opens her eyes again.

"Yiren? Yiren are you there?"

"Oh shit, I have to go!" To your bewilderment your short-lived fling pushes you away, quickly pulling her dress back down before leaving you in the lurch. Your dick is no more than a panty holder, the two things left dangling in the bathroom. You quickly grab her underwear off the countertop, and briefly deliberate finishing yourself; you decide not to once you look around and find no urinals in the bathroom. You zip up best you can, groaning at the tightness of your crotch area and dampness of your trousers—she had squirted all over you and you're still hard.

"Please welcome to the stage, Everglow's Yiren!" You are left dumbfounded as you watch the woman you were several inches in earlier walk on stage, going commando unbeknownst to everyone else in the audience.

"Hello, I'm Yiren!" She presses her legs together, making sure to not accidentally flash anyone. Her thighs feel uncomfortably wet, but Yiren doesn't have time to consider things while she's on stage, so she focuses on interacting with the MC and the crowd, saying nice things and looking pretty. After her job is complete, Yiren disappears from your sight for a while, but you soon find her trying to find you.

"Hey, do you have my clothing?"

"Your clothing? Miss Yiren, what do you mean?" you ask jokingly, pulling out the thin fabric of Yiren's underwear briefly before she shoves it back in your pocket.

"Not here!"

"I agree, you finished your job on stage, you should finish your other job too. I won't ask you to wash my pants though."

"What?"

"You made a mess all over them, utterly drenched."

"I didn't— I don't, you know, do that."

"My pants and the puddle the poor janitor has to clean later will disagree, but I have more pressing concerns." Yiren blushes, but she doesn't back away from you. She looks around, making sure that the two of you wouldn't be observed leaving the event.

"Fine, I have a room in the hotel, let's go there."

There is more than the two of you in the elevator up, so when Yiren lets you into her room you kick the door closed and wrap your arm around her tiny waist right away.

"You left me really high and dry, well, not dry, but hanging."

"Tch, that's why you're here now no?" Yiren is mildly annoyed at your constant reference to her squirting, and she shuts you up by undoing your trousers. The pretty face on stage doing her job earlier is now a pretty face on her knees doing a blowjob as she pulls your boxers down and pushes her lips over your cock. Yiren clearly wanted to get it over with, and you were edged enough earlier that you give in easily, your knees buckling as she wraps her tongue around your shaft and coaxing your time-delayed release down her throat.

"Looks like you're the only one squirting," she jabs you after wiping her mouth.

"We can go back there and take a look, if you're someone that likes to return to the scene of their 'crime'."

"I-I don't! But I don't squirt either!"

"Prove it, go ahead and touch yourself. It'll give me time to get hard again too." You dangle the (or rather, your) carrot in front of Yiren, and it is enticing—she remembers how good it felt in the bathroom earlier, and she would not mind a round two regardless.

"Fine." You watch Yiren slip out of her little black dress, her pale skin nicely matching the white sheets she gets on. A hand slips between her legs, but she keeps them closed.

"Open your legs, don't want you squirting and then trying to hide it." Yiren glares at you, but her knees part slightly, showing you her finger lightly rubbing her clit. You nod and have her continue, and Yiren's eyes close. Her legs begin to splay open as she continues rubbing herself, but she doesn't speed up, her other hand merely fondling her small breasts as you watch her climb. Her movements are small but practiced, no doubt how she touched herself back at the dorms—she needed to be quiet, to not be noticed, just enough to get her over the edge.

"Mm!" A small squeak, and her legs relax on to the bed. "I— I came, see, no squirting." Yiren cheeks are pink, but she glares at you to prove her point. She had just given herself a "light" orgasm, a "light" on the malatang spiciness scale—just enough to leave her senses tingling, but not nearly satisfying enough. Which is why you were here in the first place.

"If that's how you touch yourself I'm not surprised."

"How dare you— I'd like to see you try!" Yiren tries to be outraged, but her eyes are glued on your recovered hardness.

"Oh I plan to. I'll make sure you can't stop squirting." A warmth goes through her body as you lay a large hand on her hip—you hadn't touched her quite like this, skin-on-skin contact, in the bathroom earlier.

"You can try, but if you don't, and you won't, I'm not going to help get you off again even if I cum."

"You're going to blue ball me again?" you ask even as Yiren unbuttons your shirt. She unconsciously licks her lips as she takes in your naked body.

"Hey, that time was out of my control, unless you wanted us to get caught! But yes, if you really think you can make me do it, you should put something on the line." She draws you in, her lips inches from yours. She smells like strawberry.

"Fine, you should put something on the line too."

"Like what?"

"If I make you squirt, I get to use you until you stop squirting, you don't get to say stop."

"I have—" Yiren stops herself. She had a flight out tomorrow morning, but did she really think it would go that long? No, no it wouldn't. "Never mind, yes, that's fine." She agrees without further thought, pulling you in for a hungry kiss. She wants to get off on you again, and even if she did squirt by some miracle, it'd be a one-off, and she could still ditch you after by faking an orgasm. Yes, that'd be the play. So Yiren lets herself relax the first round, feeling you up with her wandering hands.

"You like what you see?"

"Yes, otherwise I wouldn't have led you to the bathroom earlier."

"I'm glad, let me get started then." Without a further word Yiren feels two fingers on her belly drag themselves down between her legs. They felt huge, each as large as one of the toys she would use occasionally.

"Wait— Ah!" You plunge two fingers into her and start fingerfucking her. Yiren merely rubbed her clit earlier, ramping up the pleasure slowly, and then doing just enough to tip her over. If her masturbation was a "light" orgasm, you want to make this one "explosive". Her head snaps back as you dig around her roughly, feeling for her g-spot, and finding it when she reacts abruptly—a sharp moan, a clench of her walls, and a hand on your arm, trying to ward you off.

No, wait! Everything is happening too fast for Yiren to process—she's being rubbed in an area she never reaches herself, and your thumb is too demanding, pressing and tapping on her clit like an impatient customer demanding a waiter to serve him water. Her hand is on your arm, jerking along with your rough movements, she needs to push you away, yet she can't summon the strength, the fingers inside her feel so good, too good. A warmth floods her body when she senses a fingerpad on her nipple, adding another sensation to her overloaded senses.

"Mmmmmmm!" Yiren snaps, covering her mouth with a raised arm. Yet there's no covering her lower mouth as you remove your fingers, and all the "overload" in Yiren squirts out, spraying your arm with clear slick, her juices served on a platter. She twitches and trembles on the bed, her toned tummy drumming up and down on the bed as she rides out her intense climax. Her vision white and breathing deeply, Yiren takes a while to open her eyes again, and to her dismay she sees your hand, liquid dripping off your fingertips.

"You squirted."

"J-Just this once." You took that as a challenge.

Not what I meant! Yiren throws her head back again as you bury your head between her legs, your tongue an utterly foreign and delightful muscle against her wetness. Your tongue wriggles past her lips, and Yiren has to plant her hand over your head. Presumably she wants you to stop moving, to give her time to recover, but all that happens is her tensing up, forcing your head harder against her pussy. Your arms hook around her thighs, and you continue to eat her out even as her hips move every which way. All the movement makes you bump against her clit repeatedly, and soon, rather than trying to get away from you, Yiren's just rotating her hips without purpose, grinding her crotch against your face as she chases her orgasm.

Fuck, why does it feel so good?! She bemoans the pleasure. Your teeth grazes against her swollen clit, and Yiren yells. When you wrap your lips around the nub and suck, Yiren screams, a surge of lightning going up her spine before rushing out of her pussy, splashing her juices all over your chin. You quickly place your mouth over her pussy to drink up the rest of it, making a point of wiping your mouth when she has her eyes open again.

"You taste delicious."

"S-Shut up. When are you going to fuck me hmm? You won't get to get off if I don't squirt the next time." Yiren sees you smile, and you silently get up to move her around the bed. She finds herself facing the mirror, and before she knows it you're behind her, her back pressed against your chest. She had prepared herself to get on all fours, but to her surprise you've made her sit and pushed her legs open, your own legs keeping her spread lewdly. Your head dips to her ear, and she shivers against you when you whisper.

"I'm not worried. Besides, I thought you might want to watch yourself squirt. Maybe then you'll admit it."

With your legs locking hers in place, Yiren watches your hand go down her body. She keels against you when you slide two fingers into her once more. This time thankfully you don't focus on her g-spot, drawing your digits out soon after. Maybe I can— Yiren yelps as you slam your fingers back in, and with your body bracing Yiren, she can't back away, it just makes your fingers get even deeper into her. I can't, I can't! Your palm strikes against her clit every time you thrust your fingers into her. She's already close again, and even Yiren knows she's going to squirt.

"Look in the mirror." Yiren forces her eyes open, and you hook her own legs a little further back, spreading her out even more. Her glossy eyes watch your hand go even faster in and out of her, there's no way she can stay watching it—

"Nngaaah!" A wild yell escapes her, her mind on a different plane of reality as she watches herself through the mirror. The Yiren in the mirror throws her hips off the bed as the hand pulls back, and it is a gush of juice that explodes out of her pussy. Not just a singular gush too—over and over Yiren bucks her hips off the bed, each firing off their own jet of squirt. The lithe girl is trembling and sweating, the sheets beneath her soaked with all kinds of fluids.

"God you're such a perfect squirter..." your whispers rouse Yiren from her stupor, and she sees herself in the mirror, droplets of her own girlcum splattered across the face looking back.

I-I'm not a squirter! Am I? Doubt sets in on Yiren. And your sinful words don't help at all.

"You've been holding back on yourself, holding back on me, this whole time. You should see yourself squirt again."

"N-No, I don't want to, don't want to watch!" You grin and push Yiren's legs together, before hooking your arm under her legs and pulling them up. Her back pressed against you, you pull her legs towards her chest, folding Yiren in half, and now she's staring at her knees instead of the mirror.

"Fine, just listen then." In the folded position Yiren can barely catch her breath as you strum on her clit, and in her overstimulated state she wails before going silent in orgasm. She squirts once more, and despite being unable to see the mirror, Yiren hears the spray land heavily on the mirror, each drop a thunder in her ears.

"Did you squirt then?" you ask her, and she blushes and tries to shy away from you.

"Yes."

"Are you a squirter?"

"N-No."

"Not admitting it yet?" You release your hold on her, letting her flop on to the bed as you roll on top of her. "I am going to fuck you now."

"No!" She pushes you away in a hurry. "I mean, let me be on top."

"If you want." You get on your back, and Yiren clambers on top of you. Gone is her prettily coiffed hair and makeup, replaced with a disheveled, sweaty, and drained look. She has been pushed to her limits tonight, the pleasure and forbidden sensation of squirting driving her insane, yet she's desirous for more. Any idea of faking an orgasm to just get out of the deal is gone from her head—she wants to cum, and she wants to not squirt to prove a pointless point.

Even after all of your handiwork on her pussy, it still doesn't compare to how full you feel inside her, and Yiren moans deliriously as she hilts herself on you. This is it! She cries in her head, immediately beginning to grind her hips on you.

"You like my cock don't you?"

"I, uhhnngh, I love it!" Her hands are on your chest, and she squeezes your pecs as she grinds. Yiren's head is spinning as the pleasure she had felt in the bathroom quickie earlier returns, your shaft rubbing all the right spots along her drenched walls. But I can't squirt! She forces herself to slow down her movements, denying herself some of the pleasure, to hopefully bring herself to a small orgasm rather than another wet one.

You see through her thoughts immediately as she shuts her eyes, brows furrowed in concentration.

"Why are you going slow Yiren?"

"You know why, damn it!"

"Is that why you wanted to be on top? So you can control the pace?"

"Yes, oh fuck!" she whines as she unfortunately finds the perfect angle to fuck herself on you.

"You do know that I can just hold you there and thrust upwards right? I can make you squirt all over my cock whenever—" You put one hand on her waist. "I—" You put your other hand on her waist, and Yiren freezes, as if waiting for you to just do as you say, to just ruin her with another squirting orgasm. "Want, but I won't." You let go of her, and Yiren's too stunned to speak momentarily. You smirk at her undulating body though, unconsciously beginning to move in circles again.

"W-Why did you st— Why not?"

"I want you to make yourself squirt. I can make you do it anytime, but can you?"

"I don't want to! I won't!"

"Are you sure? I can feel you clenching around me, are you thinking about how it would feel when you squirt again? Thinking about how I would do it?"

"No!"

"I would grab your tiny little waist, and then I would jam you down as I thrust up, god I would get so deep in you. You squirted before in the bathroom, there's no way you won't squirt again."

"No, not this time!" Yiren can't see you grin as she begins to lose her mind—she finally admits to squirting in the bathroom earlier.

"And then I would roll you over so I can properly fuck you, and I won't stop until you admit you're a squirter, and then make you squirt again and again."

"I won't say that— mmmm!" As you argue with Yiren her hips begin to move with a mind of their own, moving faster and faster. Her moans rise in pitch as she finds the perfect angle again and again. Stop Yiren, you need to stop! A little inner voice begins to shout, but it is fighting against the tidal roar of another orgasm.

Yiren don't! It is far too late.

"I can't, I'm sorry, NO—" Yiren wails loudly and begins to give in.

Schlick

"What are you sorry about Yiren?"

"I— I'm going to cum!"

Schlick Shlop

"Are you going to squirt on my cock?"

"Mmm, mmm!" She tries to shake her head, but she's bouncing on your cock, and she ends up nodding comically instead.

"Say it!"

Schlick Shlop Shlosh

"I'm— Ohh I'm going to, I'm going to nngh... I'm squirting—" The rest of it devolves into unintelligible groans as Yiren's control is washed away. You have to focus on not cumming with Yiren as she contracts around you, but you still feel your balls get drenched in her warm fluids, and the added squelch you now hear from Yiren's movements finish her original sentence—Yiren has flooded your connection with her juices and squirted all over your cock. You hold Yiren and roll the two of you, switching positions and making the twitching idol squirt a little more in the process.

"You really are a huge squirter aren't you?"

"Don't move, please don't move yet!" Yiren clings on to you, her walls still clenching around you as she rides out the last waves of her peak. "I-I'm a squirter, ok? I admit it."

"Good, then I don't want you to hold back. I'm going to fuck you, and I want you to tell me when you're squirting."

"Mm, ahh!" You start moving as soon as Yiren squeaks her understanding. As if finally unblocked and unchained, she throws her head back, moaning loudly when you thick rod runs itself in and out of her.

It's too good, it's so good— "Ugh I'm cumming!" It only takes a few thrusts for the overstimulated Yiren to cum again, and psshh you pull out, a jet of liquid spraying your stomach. As soon as she's done you plunge back in, pumping Yiren for her next gush.

"Ohhh yes!" Tears leak out from Yiren's eyes as she bucks her hips and squirts again. She can't believe how good it feels to squirt, the warm juices evidence of her own extreme pleasure. How can she ever go back to her feeble masturbation, how can she go "dry" again? She's shouting herself hoarse, but she doesn't even care if the whole floor hears her scream.

"I'm squirting again!"

"You're such a fucking hot squirter," you growl, driving into her faster and harder, chasing your own orgasm as you fuck Yiren to several squirting orgasms, each loudly announced. Your bodies are covered in sweat and slick, droplets of each splattered all over your violent forms.

"Guhnngh!" Yiren's brow contracts as you nudge at her cervix on an extra-deep thrust, and her walls clench around you violently as you nudge her again and again and again. "God— guh, uh, uh, nngh!" She feels your tip press on her womb firmly, and she loses all control.

"FUCK!" You pull out just in time, and your load fires up her body, splattering Yiren all the way to her neck. Yiren's world goes white, just as white as your load covering her while she explodes in her wettest orgasm yet. Her first blast hits you square in the chest, and the following jet sprays cover your entire torso. By the time her hips finally stop bucking, her entire body is flush in exertion and completely limp below you, as if every last bit of strength in her has been expelled in the form of girlcum all over your body.

Not caring about the mess you collapse on top of her, feeling Yiren quivering beneath you. The two of you take long minutes to recover, and you are the first to manage to put together a sentence.

"We should clean up," you whisper. But she shakes her head.

"I-I can't move." Her limbs still feel weak and numb, the pleasure nerves in her head still firing. You half carry and half drag Yiren into the shower, turning the hot water on and letting it wash over the two of you. But you're not done with Yiren yet.

"No..." Yiren feels your hand go between her legs, and she braces herself against the shower wall. A few rubs on her sensitive nub, and a weak flow of slick trickles down her leg before joining the shower water down the drain.

"You can end this now," you whisper in her ear, and Yiren finally realizes what you mean—in the shower she can just lie, say she didn't squirt, and you would end the session. You continue rubbing her slit, feeling Yiren tense in a weak orgasm, and her juices spray over your fingers weakly.

"I-I didn't squirt there." You look Yiren in the eyes, and they are round and tired, eager for rest.

"I see, I failed then. We're done." She slumps against the wall, sliding down to the floor. You sit down next to her, gently shampooing and soaping her up (to small overstimulated whimpers), helping Yiren finally get clean before quickly washing up yourself.

"Can you get up?" Yiren nods, standing up like a baby deer as you hand her a towel and give her a robe after. She hugs you tightly as the two of you exit the bathroom, her head buried in your chest—she's sobbing into it, overcome with emotion at what just happened tonight.

"Yiren?"

"I'm so embarrassed, I don't know what to say."

"I had a wonderful time tonight, thank you. I won't say anything about tonight to anyone."

"Okay, thank you. I umm, I have to leave tomorrow morning."

"So do I, you should rest as much as you can, and drink lots of water."

"Right..." Yiren blushes at the comment, and you feel her get warm against you as the two of you survey the water damage—Yiren has likely soaked the mattress, the sheets clinging to it translucently. "Oh god how am I going to explain this, what if the hotel finds out?"

"They'll keep quiet, that's what they're paid to do. Just say you spilled a pot of water or something and that you're very sorry."

"I'll try that."

"Yes, good. I should go, I'll let you rest." You gently dislodge Yiren from your arm, but she's clingy.

"I-I never felt like that before, it never feels that good."

"I'm glad, now you know what's possible. Next time, you should have a towel when you do it yourself."

"No, I want to see you again." Yiren's eyes are wide and twinkling—she's putting the idol charm on you, the little firecracker you fucked in the bathroom coming back strong.

"Fine, here's my business card. Don't risk it, remember we almost got caught earlier," you remind her.

"I will worry about that. It's my neck on the line." You chuckle and shake your head, giving her a goodbye hug and getting a goodbye peck in return.

You return to Korea separately from Yiren, and you don't expect to hear from her for a while—she is an idol after all.

Ding! Or not.

I'm off next Wednesday, can I see you then?

Well, at least that day's weather forecast settled.

Wet.

A/N: I wrote this purely because I wanted to do an "Everglow/flow" pun lol and wanted to use that little black dress pic of hers, thanks for reading!

[slutt4ellie]

Summer Blossoms

PT3 - Veil Of Petals

masterlist

PART 1 // PART 2 // PART 4

Falling in love is hard. Worse when you know it can’t happen.

Summery -> You and Ellie were now under the same impression, you’re friends once again, the rough patch of your friendship now supposedly over..if only it was that easy!

This chapter contains -> Heavy with internalized homophobia / A lot of this part is in Reads POV / Angst / Jealous!Reader finally makes an appearance / Cat also makes an appearance 🌚 / Cat and Ellie sorta have a thing / No established relationship but ig it’s implied / Denying of feelings / I describe readers clothing once / Kissing / Lots of confusion / Tensionnnnnnn / They’re both convinced that feelings aren’t reciprocated / Eventual smut! / (Lmk if I missed anything!!!) /

WC : 8k

(Not proofread)

You were desperate. 

You knew you put the nail in the coffin with Ellie.

You could easily sense how the atmosphere between you two changed. Sure you were “friends,” on good pages, but you both felt it. It couldn’t help but feel like the two of you were actively stepping over broken glass at the hands of you. 

You shattered that previous connection as soon as you yelled at Ellie. Agreeing with what the party attendees said, what Jack said. And you wanted so bad to think that maybe a part of that freakout was indeed valid. That the whole situation was the fault of Ellie. But it was just a shitty excuse, something to cover how you actually felt about her. A feeling that you aren’t sure you’ve ever truly had. I mean, the last thing you wanted to admit is that maybe you’ve fallen for a girl.

So you yelled at her without a second thought; you made her feel stupid, gross, like she was the problem. Because to you, that felt easier, far easier than accepting that maybe you not pulling back from her that night, letting your lips rest on her pale skin, mumbling that you were okay with what was playing out actually fucking meant something- 

You genuinely just wanted to ignore that there was a chance it wasn’t all on her. And you knew why. You knew that she was different; from the little moments where she would smile at something you said, it was embarrassing how fast your heart would suddenly increase in pace. Or when her touch would linger, and coincidentally you were hyperaware of anything and everything around you...

You’d like to think you’re not dumb, but it shouldn’t have taken Ellie assuring you that she didn’t see you that way, confirming to your face that she never actually had feelings for you, adding on how you were just her best friend; her uttering those sentences shouldn’t have made you realize that a friend wasn't all she was. It was laughable, because really, how was that the night where it clicked? You genuinely couldn’t wrap your head around that being the moment where you realized you liked Ellie. It was ridiculous.

And now, you’re coming to the realization that the Ellie you liked, that version of her, was gone. And the worst part was it wasn’t in the form of her being a dick or ignoring you. She never deliberately treated you differently. She was just more aware of how you two acted together. She didn’t lie on your bedroom floor, peeking over your shoulder to get a glance of your book. Rather, she stayed on your bed. 

Late nights filled with laughs, and often drives also stopped, and even if you wanted to, you couldn’t even fucking blame her. Ellie stopped making that effort, and in all honesty, you did too. It was a tremendous shift from the beginning of your friendship, which once felt so light, now felt extremely forced. Like you were trying to fix a broken piece of glass, it was impossible to hide those shatters.

Because fuck, it was to the point where the only time you guys would actually hang out was when Joel would come over to see your father. 

It was like she’d be scared to be in your personal space again, and even though you knew Ellie would never tell you, you were fully aware that the outcome of your friendship was your fault. And you weren’t even sure if you could fix it. 

You have a little over a month to spend at your dad's place, and then, soon enough, you’d go back home to your mom's, prepared to pack your bags and leave for college. And it was like a polar opposite from when you first arrived, because despite being desperate in the beginning to leave, you wanted nothing more than to have more time. Try to mend whatever you broke. Yet time was ticking, and you can’t stop the inevitable. You were sure to be leaving soon.

As you are lying on your bed, your mind racing with a billion different thoughts, the faint sound of a yell is heard echoing from downstairs. You sigh and sit up, pushing your palms against your mattress. You’re not even sure if you heard correctly. 

Much to your dismay, soon enough there was a swing of the door, and your father walked in with a bright smile displayed all over his face. “Do I have to get a megaphone for you?” He chuckles, his voice a little strained. 

A dry chuckle leaves your lips, quickly having them curl into a smile. With a light shake of your head, you respond, “No?” You pause and swing your legs over the edge of your bed; you talk as you rise to your feet. “What's up?” 

“Joel and Ellie are coming over today.” He pauses and then continues. “For dinner—and, uh, when Ellie gets here, I just need you two to swing by the grocery store and get some food.” He smiles thoughtfully.

You hate how this one sentence has your body flooding with anxiety; obviously, you’re aware of how you and Ellie have hung out after the lake house; you just didn’t want to be trapped in a car with her…! You can already picture the awkward silence, both of you getting rather quiet in uncomfortable situations. And your silence leaves your dad confused; he awkwardly clears his throat before speaking up, eyes on you. “Does that work on your schedule?” He jokes, offering a different manner. Thankfully, it does help cloud your worries to a certain extent. 

You just nod, a light laugh leaving your lips. “Yes—yeah, sorry, I was just thinking.” You smile at him before turning around to make your bed. Your best attempt to clean up your room before Ellie gets here. It’s also the moment where your smile instantly fades. 

Your dad has noticed a shift in your behaviour since the two of you came back from Joel's lake house. Probably even before that. 

Sure he was aware of how yours and Ellie’s hangouts suddenly stopped, of course being before your father dragged you to the lake house. It was extremely sudden; like as soon as Ellie left Joel sleeping at your house alone, her truck gone, was the same moment where your demeanour changed. Both of yours for that matter. Because of course he saw how you guys talked again after that lake house, but it wasn’t the same. You were far more distant with each other, Ellie only coming when Joel would be there to hang out with him. And he couldn’t pinpoint why. He just wasn't quite sure why the only person you’ve met since you arrived at his farmhouse is now the one he rarely sees you with. 

It was truly like your mind always has something going on inside of it. Zoning out was now a regular thing with you; every so often, in the middle of a conversation, it’s like the gears inside your brain jammed, like you were experiencing a feeling of mystification. 

But unfortunately, your dad being your dad, he just doesn’t think to mention it. He can only assume you're nervous about leaving your mom to go to college. Dwelling on it. And fuck, how you wish that was all it was.

Roars from outside catch your attention; the distinct sound of a truck pulling up is a telltale sound that Ellie and Joel are here. Your dad faces your back as you make your bed; regardless, he still talks. “Looks like they’re here!” He says feet trailing outside your bedroom. Quickly hearing how the creaks of the floorboards make their way downstairs. 

And as soon as your dad is gone, you shut your door and grab an outfit from your dresser, throwing it on as you try your best to fix your messy hair, hoping it now falls along the lines of being decently presentable. And you’re about to head downstairs, opening your bedroom door in preparation, but you stop. Though you can’t actually understand what they’re saying, there are three voices. Joel's, Ellies. And one extra. I mean, you didn’t think you were going crazy, but you were almost sure you heard an additional voice, a woman’s to be exact. It sounded soft, less raspy if anything, that being a clear distinction that it wasn’t Ellies.

And sure enough, you got further confirmation when you trailed downstairs. A woman was standing right beside Ellie. She seemed maybe a year or two older than you; she had tattoos trailing all over her arms and dark eyes, paired with raven hair. And you stopped to look at her for a few seconds and to say she was pretty; that would be a huge understatement, and without any type of warning, you were now immensely mindful of how you looked.

A wave of self-consciousness passed through you like clockwork.

Ellie's eyes were only on the woman, and you were almost sure she hadn't even seen you walking down the stairs. Not till Joel spoke up, his eyes locked with yours as he stepped forward. “Hey kid!” He smiles and continues softly, his accent thick. “Your dad tells me that you here are picking up a few things from the grocery store!” 

And as Ellie hears Joel talk, she finally pulls her eyes away from the woman, her green irises and soft smile now directed towards you. She awkwardly keeps her hand at her waist and waves at you. 

You feel like you have to force your eyes off of her, trying to give your full attention to Joel as you turn his direction, you give him nod to confirm what he said, of course paired with an awkward smile. 

And as you finish your sentence, you're locking eyes back with Ellie’s green ones. You give her a soft smile, waving your hand back at her. 

You try to ignore how the woman’s eyes haven't left Ellie’s side profile, like she's still trying to pin her attention. Although you feel a pang of uncomfortability hit your chest, you manage to talk, an unfamiliar ache staining the area right after. “Yeah—with Ellie, I think?” 

Ellie nods softly at you. And in what's coming, consistency, she looks right back at the woman. The same girl whose name you don't even know...! “Are you going to come with us? To the grocery store?” 

Fucking Christ. You look at the girl, then right back at Ellie. Who even is this, and why is she even in your dad's house? Why was she in the car with them? There are a thousand questions going through your mind. I mean, you literally saw Ellie less than a week ago; there was never even a mention of this woman? ... I mean, of course she didn’t owe you that; you just assumed she’d tell you. 

And it’s like Joel catches your unease and discomfort because he nudges Ellie lightly, directing his eyes towards your face; this has Ellie's eyes following, of course landing straight on you. She reads your confusion, leading her to quickly clear her throat; she manages to mumble out a shitty introduction. “Shit—sorry, this is Cat!” 

Joel smiles and talks, looking at you, then at your dad. “She’s staying with us for about a week, helping me with tasks around the farm! Right before summer ends!” He looks back and forth between you, Ellie, and Cat. 

The tension in the room eases to a certain extent; I mean that was better than what you were leaning towards. Yet it only further confused you in why she and Ellie seemed so…close? You didn’t really understand why Cat seemed so entrapped by Ellie's mere presence, but you tried to ignore it. It’s not your business. 

Ellie absently leans back and forth on her heels for a solid second; she looks at you and Cat. The silence now stretching for what feels like hours. She clears her throat before speaking. Eyes trailing back to the raven-headed girl, “We can head out now...?” Ellie looks at you. “If that's alright with you guys?”

You just nod and mumble out a quick “Mhm,” your hand moving to pick up your pair of shoes, sliding them on both of your feet. Ellie doesn’t necessarily wait up for you, her feet moving out the door before you even get on your second shoe. And of course neither does Cat.

It’s literally like she's some parasite stuck to Ellie, yet it’s like Ellie enjoys her presence! Like she doesn’t care that some woman is following her around...! 

And now, you’re of course getting the feeling that they don’t want you there.

Cat ended up taking the passenger seat without a second thought, so it left you in the back, alone. 

Now leaving you to watch as they interacted with each other.

Ellie would turn back every so often; she wanted to try and include you in their conversation, but you genuinely didn’t understand half the shit they were talking about. It was all about work, specifically work in the farm department, so for half the car ride you were just sitting there awkwardly! You already weren’t excited to be in a car with Ellie, but now you’re in a car with Ellie and some woman you’ve never fucking communicated with. 

You tried your best to push down your judgment on Cat; as the car ride went on, you figured that she seemed nice enough.?

She made Ellie laugh a lot. 

It reminded you a lot of how the two of you sounded before everything went down, and now you’re wondering if you had never freaked out on her that night, maybe that would be you in the front seat, making her laugh at stupid inside jokes. That feeling of reminiscing almost made this whole situation worse. It made you feel fucking sick to your stomach.

I mean anyone with a pair of eyes could see Ellie was equally as interested in the girl, like she couldn’t get enough of her jokes and conversation; you haven’t seen Ellie like that in a while.

And then the muffled sound of Cat's voice shatters through your train of thought, “So…how old are you?” Cat turns around in the passenger seat, eyes locking with yours. 

You pause, your eyes moving back and forth between her pair... “W-what?” You look at your hands nervously, shifting them back up at her as you finish your sentence. You couldn’t understand why you found this woman so intimidating. Maybe it was the fact she asked you a question as you were staring off into space. 

Or maybe how she’s had Ellie’s attention almost the whole drive...!

Cat just simply chuckles and looks at you, her dark eyes looking at your confused face, “Just asked how old you were?” She looks at Ellie and sorta laughs. Ellie's eyes shift to look at her, eyes crinkling at the corners as she smiles, cheeks noticeably turning pink before her gaze focuses back on the road. 

You look at the two of them and fight the urge to roll your eyes. It’s getting a bit theatrical at this point; no way looking at someone has Ellie's cheeks turning fucking pink. “I’m 18.” You look at Cat, clearing your throat in the process. “You?”

She smiles as she directs her attention back at Ellie. “Shit, Williams, didn’t realize you hung around 18 year olds?” She’s obviously kidding; you’re not stupid; you can tell she’s making a joke, but it was fucking dumb; Ellie was 19 for fuck's sake! “Shut up, man.” Ellie chuckles and looks at Cat for a solid second, eyes swiftly moving back to the road.

Cat talks and smiles, “I’m 21.” She chuckles, replying to your unanswered question. You watch as she looks straight back at Ellie. It’s like they couldn’t pull their eyes away from each other.

And you can’t get over how different Ellie’s acting is, like she’s trying to put on a show for some audience. However, the only audience is some chick. Like she’s throwing on some cool facade? It’s weird to say the least; Ellie never acts like this, at least she never acted like this when she was around you.

It makes you want to leave the car. Getting increasingly uncomfortable in the small atmosphere, you feel like they don’t want you there. Plus, the small comment on your age made you embarrassed. 

You just reply to Cat with a simple nod.

And it’s like your prayers are answered because the car finally parks in front of the store. You immediately unbuckle your seatbelt and open the trunk door to get out. 

And you’re starting to think maybe you were wrong; maybe Ellie was still mad. And sure, she had the right to be? But fuck, you were just in serious need of your friendship going back to normal; you hated being whatever this was. 

The worst sting so far was the fact Ellie didn’t even hesitate to open Cat's door for her, in the meantime practically ignoring you. You observe the two of them for a few seconds, neither of them even paying mind that you were in fact also in the car. 

You awkwardly watch as Cat tilts her head at Ellie, batting her eyelashes at her, as if she is starving for some sort of reaction. And a reaction she gets, because almost instantaneously, Ellie's cheeks stain a light pink. Cats hand now trailing her forearm, of course where her tattoo is. 

You’re grateful for the open surroundings of the parking lot. It genuinely made leaving them and walking straight to the grocery store easy, you having zero intent to wait up for them. 

As you were looking for your items, your head kept glancing at the list your father provided; you tried to distract yourself with literally anything. The sounds, the environment, anything that now surrounds you, and unfortunately nothing fucking worked; it’s like you could get your mind off of stupid Ellie. 

And it was ludicrous, outlandish even. She could even lock eyes with you for more than 30 seconds, yet you’re over here in a grocery store fully ready to cry, a familiar burn in your throat appearing. 

Ellie's soft voice has your train of thought snap, “So? What are we looking for exactly? She asks, green eyes on you as she smiles softly. You look around; you see Cat not too far away; she’s fully distracted talking to a worker; your best guess is her trying to find something.

You stare at Ellie for a few seconds, your hand moving itself as you hand her the list, intentionally trying to avoid making conversation with her. Ellie watches as you conveniently ignore her presence, in the sense that you won’t talk to her. That simple action makes her frown. 

“You alright?” She mumbles, awkwardly clearing her throat as her eyes don’t peel away from your figure. You look back at her, eyes finally locking as you nod. “I’m fine.” You say, your voice strong with the tone of confidence. It’s almost like you’re not only trying to convince Ellie there’s nothing wrong, but also yourself. 

You grab a few items from the list, pulling your eyes away from her, actively trying to distract yourself, way better than focusing on how Ellie’s shoulders deflate, catching the fact that you lied to her face.

Her eyes go soft, nodding softly at your response, hands trailing into her pockets. 

She doesn’t even understand; are you mad at her? Because that’s all she’s thinking, her mind is racing, trying to come up with any explanation as to why you suddenly seem annoyed by her. And just as she was about to talk, completely prepared to ask you once again if you were actually okay, Cat walked over in queue, her hand moving straight to Ellie’s shoulder. “You guys okay?” She asks softly; it seems like a general question directed to the both of you. But you see how her dark eyes trail to only focus on the auburn-haired girl. It’s clear to see Cat doesn’t actually care about what you're currently feeling. Clearly just trying to be polite. 

Ellie looks at you rather than Cat; her eyes are trying their best to read you, and for once she doesn’t care how she has Cat's arms on her. Ellie’s gaze lingers on you for an excessive amount of time; she notices how Cat's arms tighten slightly; however, to Ellie, it feels like nothing else at this moment matters. Her eyes are pleading with you, begging for you to break down this newly built wall. It makes the air feel heavy.

You both feel it...

You pause and clear your throat, picking up one of the final items you need. “I’m fine.” You spit out, your eyes shifting towards Cats; you again have to force yourself to look away from Ellie’s green irises. Because once again you noticed that desperate look in her eyes, trying to understand what she might have done to upset you. 

It never wavers either, even after you left the grocery store, all three of you getting in Ellie’s truck, journeying back to your dad's place. Her newfound concern has your chest tighten. The car ride back has a huge shift, everyone in the car growing more quiet than usual; you avoid talking as best as you can, eyes constantly glancing to your hands. 

It didn’t feel extremely long, the car pulling into the driveway shortly after you zoned out. It felt almost like your body moved itself, unbuckling yourself from the seatbelt, opening the car door to land on the ground, the soft crunch of the gravel falling under each pair of feet. The familiar sight of your dad's home offered some comfort, especially after being in a car with Ellie and Cat for so fucking long.

You were the first to enter your dad's home, creating some much-needed space between the pair. As you drag your feet through the home, you hear the sound of Ellie and Cat talking. You also catch the exhausted sigh Ellie lets out, and as you turn back, you see Cat leaning over into Ellie, brushing over her arm as she mumbles an incoherent sentence. 

You don’t stop to listen; instead, you continue with the grocery bags in your hand, and you try your best to pretend the tightening in your chest doesn’t increase. Instead, distract your mind by joining Joel and your father outside on the porch. 

Your dad quickly notices you walking outside and quickly smiles, stopping his conversation with Joel. “Took you long enough, kid.” He jokes a chuckle leaving his mouth. You see Joel snicker, a beer resting in his hands. You just roll your eyes, talking softly. “Yeah, well next time—“ you push the grocery bags in his chest, “you can get it yourself!” 

Your dad jokingly puts up his hands defensively; you look at him for a few seconds, mouth open, as you are about to talk. Yet the sound of the door sliding open caught your attention, your own eyes now peering behind you.

By the time Ellie and Cat join, you hear their chattering, well…mainly just Cat's! You see Ellie positioned right behind her, her green eyes flickering towards you, now desperately trying to catch her gaze. You notice it, and you ignore it, turning around to look right back at your dad.

Ellie sighs. She stops for a few seconds; it’s hard to understand what the fuck is wrong when you refuse to even talk to her. And in that moment she hesitantly turns towards Cat, her voice soft as she speaks. “Shit—I think I left my keys on the counter. Do you mind?” Ellie says, eyes partially on Cat, and in a swift motion flicking back towards you. 

Cat nods; from your position, you can’t hear what she says, but soon enough the door is sliding open, closing only a few seconds after. 

Ellie lingers at the doorway for a few seconds; she’s currently trying to psych herself up. She didn’t get why she still cared so much about your interpretation of her; you guys are just good friends. She knows that now. And plus, she has Cat, someone who she’s 90% sure likes her. 

Regardless, nerves get the better of her, so she’s currently standing awkwardly with her hands stuffed into her pockets; it probably doesn’t help that her gaze is literally burning into your figure, only making her even more fucking nervous. She clears her throat and murmurs a short “Fuck“ feet now moving towards you, the porch creaking with each step. 

“Hey...!” She taps your shoulder lightly, her voice soft and careful. As you turn around, she watches as your gaze lingers on her face, not uttering a word. And that’s what sends Ellie into a state of panic; it was dramatic, sure, but you being completely silent makes Ellie’s heart increase in pace, that leading her to speak once again. “Are you alright? You just seem— She stops as soon as she sees a long sigh leave your lips, eyes closing as if you are exhausted.

It takes you a few seconds to push some words out of your mouth, and as you do, your voice takes a tired tone. “Why do you keep asking me that, Ellie? I'm fine.” It comes out a tad bit harsher than intended, and you watch as her face shifts, starting to materialize with a sad frown. She just awkwardly clears her throat, her hand coming to rub the back of her neck. “I don’t—I don’t know?” She stutters, her voice wavering; she's starting to wonder why she constantly bothers; it’s so clear you don’t fucking need to be checked up on. She doesn’t understand why she can’t get that easy information through her head. 

“I’m—I’m sorry... but I'm fine?” You look at her, your voice now soft as you softly reassure her, both of you looking into each other's eyes for a few seconds. For those few seconds, it feels like it used to. Ellie’s green eyes shining in the sun. You always liked how they looked, something you've never thought to even tell her, and maybe if it was like it was before, you would tell her.

You notice how her eyes are bouncing back and forth between your pair; she clears her throat out of nervousness, looking down as she says her next sentence. “Like, are you mad at me or something?” She asks, instantly awaiting an answer once it leaves her lips. 

You pause for a few seconds; your initial response is to completely deny it, because truthfully you’re not mad at Ellie…You don’t think you are? And shockingly, a large part of you wants to tell her the truth. But the fact that those words feel like they’re burning in your throat makes you second-guess that decision. In all honesty, it feels like you’ve hardly even accepted it yourself; you are sure you like Ellie, but admitting that out loud—no way...

You’re about to talk, taking a long, deep breath, eyes searching for hers. You want to try your best to lay it all out. Maybe give her a watered-down version of your feelings; that way it may not feel as scary. It’s simple enough to say the night in your bedroom meant something, where you laid your head on her chest, falling asleep in each other's arms. That doesn’t necessarily mean you like her? It just means that maybe that night didn’t need to be deemed as some mistake. 

“Ellie—“ 

As you attempt to speak, the sound of the door sliding catches both of your attention. The dark-eyed girl comes outside, her body moving straight towards Ellie, arm instantly looping around hers. She didn’t even stop to acknowledge the fact that you were just talking, and without a second thought, she spoke. “Couldn’t find your keys on the counter, sorry Els…” 

However, Ellie's gaze never leaves your face, and without delay, Cat notices. She sees how it falls on you, like the auburn-haired girl can’t pull her eyes away from you. And it’s like Cat noticing that; it only made her hold onto Ellie tighter, her hand trailing back and forth on Ellie’s forearm. Like she’s looking for a reaction. And although you feel one, you don’t let it show on your face, leaving it carefully neutral; it wasn’t as hard as you thought to act like you hadn't even noticed.

You see how Cat shifts slightly, a soft smile present on her face; it’s subtle, and it makes you wonder what she’s even trying to convey, and you know that this smile isn’t the result of holding Ellie. You see how she's staring right at you! And it makes you confused, because someone who seemed nice in the beginning is now seeming like a burden to have around, and sure she’s Ellie’s…friend, but it appears like she’s doing it on purpose. Intentionally trying to make you uncomfortable! 

And although it seemed obvious to you, Ellie, on the other hand, is completely oblivious. Or at least she's pretending to be; her eyes are still locked on you with an inexplicable amount of intensity, like she’s still awaiting your answer to her question. You watch as her lips part, as if she’s about to talk. You even believe she might, yet not even a second later her lips close and she turns, her green eyes now looking straight at Cat. “Ahh…okay, I think I may have just misplaced them.” Ellie smiles sweetly, clears her throat, and continues. “Sorry for making you look.”

Cat shakes her head and smiles. “It’s not a problem.”

And that’s how it often went. Two quickly became three. If Ellie was at your dad's place, so was Cat. Like they were connected, interlinked in a way. 

And to say it was awkward, that’d easily be putting it lightly. You felt like an unintentional third wheel constantly...! You watched as Cat made it a point to only talk to Ellie, regardless of whether she was in your space! It was comical really; you could be in your bedroom with the pair, and somehow, the conversation would always revolve completely around Ellie. It was as if you were invisible, or maybe some convenient backdrop to their little inside jokes. 

And as always, that's what was happening tonight. 

You would watch as Cat's eyes would always occasionally flicker towards you, as if she was making sure you were still watching as they bonded together; you’d also watch as they would immediately move back to Ellie, like some magnetic connection. Maybe it was dramatic, but even sitting in your small room, it felt like you were miles apart from them. Like you couldn’t break into their invisible thread that seemed to entrap them. 

And it wasn’t even like you wanted to be the centre of attention. It wasn't even about that…? But it was so hard not to notice how they were always talking, and you were just there; it felt like the hangouts were pointless. It was difficult to act like it wasn’t a big deal. And you knew that they were friends after all. You haven't seen them do anything other than light touches, which were always initiated by Cat. And you knew their closeness was not something to be threatened by; plus, Cat left in a few days anyway, her week with Joel quickly coming to an end. 

But knowing that made you sad, and not because of Cat; you were sad because you knew you were shortly after. After she was gone, you had less than a month to spend at your dad's house, and not dwelling on that became an impossible task. 

“Do you mind grabbing the drinks from Ellie's truck?” Cat says cutting off your train of thought. You stay silent for a few seconds, not only out of habit, but you weren’t even sure if she was talking to you; it takes Ellie’s eyes flicking towards you to understand that it was indeed a question directed at you. Your silence is what makes Cat chuckle, heat rising to your cheeks without missing a second. 

“Right...” you mutter, the words barely escaping your lips as you swing your legs over your bed. Cat is already turning her head, presumably to go straight back to meet Ellie's eyes, ready to spike up more conversation. It makes you sigh softly, your legs feeling heavy as you attempt to start moving forward. All you really want to do is leave your bedroom; being in a space with Ellie and Cat is starting to feel suffocating. The task already felt hard enough; your movements haltered and slow, it only got worse as Ellie stood abruptly, standing in front of you, which ends up blocking your path.

You look at her for a few seconds, your mannerisms expressing your clear confusion. Ellie's eyes are staring intensely at you, every so often looking back and forth between you and Cat, Cat's body still sitting on the floor. Ellie's silence comes to an end as she manages to spit out a stuttered sentence: “N-need a hand?” 

Cat's face immediately drops as Ellie talks, silently trying to express her distaste through her eyes; luckily, it doesn't work. Ellie doesn’t even notice Cat's dark eyes on her; all she can focus on is the girl in front of her, the girl who is you. When Ellie looks at you, she suddenly understands why your opinion of her still mattered so much. It’s hard to lose those feelings immediately, even after how persistent she was to lock them away.

Her gaze makes you nervous, eyes trailing to your bedroom door behind Ellie. You pause for a few seconds before attempting to break past her figure, all while forgetting there was still a girl on your floor, actively watching the both of you. Your voice comes out short as you move hastily, “I—I’m fine, Ellie. Thank you, though.”

Ellie quickly shakes her head, cutting you off as she makes eye contact with you once again. “No, no, I don’t mind. The cases are heavy, so...! She says awkwardly as she opens your bedroom door, and Ellie watches as you walk out of your bedroom door; it was clear that Ellie wasn't taking no for an answer. 

You turn around, watching as Ellie mumbles something to Cat. Cats face expressing nothing but a sour expression, she seems mad at Ellie, or maybe even you. Regardless, it doesn’t take long before Ellie leaves Cat alone in your bedroom; a part of you wants to feel bad, but then again, Cat clearly didn’t when she left you out of conversations. 

Ellie is quiet as she walks down the creaky stairs of your dad's house. Truthfully, both of you were doing your best to keep quiet; maybe it was out of awkwardness. 

She is trailing behind you, keys jiggling as she grabs them out of her pocket. And finally she talks, breaking that wall of tension both of you previously had up. “Cat leaves in 2 days, you know?” Ellie says softly, opening the door as you both trail outside. She unlocks her car, quickly grabbing a case of alcohol that Cat purchased.

“Yeah, but who's counting?” You joke, your eyes locking with Ellie's. Your manner has both of you ease up, stepping into territory that felt like how it was before that night. You watch as Ellie's lips curl into a soft smile, a chuckle leaving her lips as her eyes light up slightly. 

You instantly let out a soft sigh of relief; you weren't sure if she was going to laugh at your words. Both of you have been stale, so that little chuckle felt like endless confirmation that maybe it wasn’t doomed, your friendship that is. 

“I was just lettin’ you know!” She says, pausing as she thinks of her next words carefully. Her own mind drifting away from the woman who is still inside waiting for the both of you to return. “There’s a lake you know...?” A quaver in her voice as if she's nervous. 

You glance at her for a few seconds; you’re curious, maybe even a little intrigued. “A lake?” You dampen, eyebrow raising at her words. “Like…a secret one, or one I just didn’t know about.” The pause between the two of you lingers; it almost feels like Ellie’s opening up again, like the doors you were sure you sealed shut are starting to be pushed open, like those cracks are becoming visible once again. You both feel it. 

“How many lakes do you know about?” Ellie tilts her head, a grin on her face as if she's challenging you. Her words make you laugh as you shrug, your voice coming out light as you stare at each other. “I don't know—just what's so cool about this lake?”

“I don’t know; it’s quiet. Peaceful, if you will?” Ellie talks, a stupid smirk on her face as she says the last four words, eyes flickering down to the case of alcohol, promptly being held up in her two hands. “I mean, it’s a little out of the way…” She continues, eyes moving back to you. “But literally no one ever goes there; we could check it out.” Ellie smiles as she looks at you, nervously rubbing the back of her neck. 

“Okay!”

Three days later you guys do end up going out to that same lake Ellie mentioned. 

You found yourself sitting in Ellie's passenger seat of her truck; you genuinely couldn’t remember the last time it was just the two of you in this car, not being forced upon awkward circumstances. Granted, it wasn’t like it wasn’t awkward; the two of you didn’t really know what to talk about. Even so, the soft hum of the engine and the cracking of the radio filled the unwanted silence, which was nice. 

Cat being gone also felt like a breath of fresh air, the weight lifting off the space of you and Ellie. You really didn't realize how heavy the tension had been until it was gone; she was gone. Cat’s presence did always seem to hover, like she was lingering in a possessive sense. Her gestures always being small yet noticeable. Her hands always finding excuses to be on Ellie's skin, the way she would always inch closer during conversations, she would constantly try to claim attention in ways that made you feel left out, regardless of being the person who had been there first. 

The sound of Ellie's car pulling over to the side caught your attention, quickly snapping you out of your long train of thought. The tires were slowly crunching as they came to a stop; her car was now idling, sitting on a dirt patch beside the water. The lake stretches out before you; it was calm and still, the trees on the far side reflecting on the water. It felt like a place that demanded a slow breath, almost like it could wash away everything if you let it. 

“Well...!” Ellie said as she killed the engine to her truck. She opened the door and hopped out of her truck; the dust below Ellie settled as she swung her legs out, planting them firmly on the ground. You watch as she makes her way to your side of the truck, hand reaching for the door as she opens it for you. That little moment had the air change for you. “This is it!” She almost sounded tentative, but there was a flicker of something else, something you hadn’t heard from Ellie in a while. Hope, maybe? Reminiscences of desire for normalcy, it’s something that has been missing between you two for so long.

“This is it!” You repeat, your eyes locked on her as you step out of her truck. “It’s beautiful.” You say eyes locked on the water as you take it all in. The shine of the stars was clearly reflecting on the water; it was all so pretty. 

Ellie stood next to you for a few seconds, quiet at first as she took in the sight in front of her. Slowly she turns her head, eyes locking with you. “It is, isn’t it?” She smiles, the shine of the moon illuminating her eyes. You watch as her eyes move off of you, missing the moment where your cheeks tint a light shade of pink. You’re almost grateful she missed it. 

Surely she’s doing this on purpose... That’s all you can think, the realization making your head spin. And you really couldn’t help but stare at her for a moment. Caught in the sincerity of her expression. Again, a look you haven’t seen in her in a while.

“So…” Ellie says, breaking the newfound tension, her voice a little louder as she says her next sentence, “Are we going swimming?” She spits out, her eyes fixated on the lake in front of the two of you. Her tone is almost casual, with no teasing edge to it.

“Swimming? Ellie I didn’t- you never even mentioned swimming. You spit out, eyes struck with clear confusion. 

Ellie shrugs, a smile present on her face, specifically forming in the middle of her face, framing at the corner of her mouth. “Um, it’s a lake? I sort of assumed you‘d get the memo." She laughs softly.

You glance from the water to Ellie; you try to process her words. Sure, the offer seems inviting; the lake is calm and clear, but it’s not like you brought a bathing suit, plus the idea of jumping in freezing cold water was unsurprisingly uninviting. 

“Hold on?!” You raise your hand; despite the raised voice, your tone is not serious, a clear smile written all over your face. “You came here to what?- swim? After all that talk about it being peaceful and quiet?” You look at her with an amused expression; you have to force yourself not to laugh at her. “Plus it’s almost midnight, not exactly ‘perfect’ swimming weather.”

Ellie smiles and shakes her head proudly, her legs moving fast as she gets to the edge of the water. “It’s perfect swimming weather if you ask me!” 

“Turn around!” Ellie says hesitantly, her voice strong with undertones of embarrassment. Voice going soft and quiet. Bashful even.

“Why?” You ask, your voice instantly betraying your confusion. 

Ellie’s gaze flickers to the side, avoiding yours for a moment, before she groans in frustration. “Just! Turn around!” 

Your movements grow slow as you process her words, still not entirely sure as to what she's up to. Your eyes flicker to Ellie as she shifts her weight from one foot to another, clearly anxious. Those mannerisms make you fold, so you listen, turning around slowly. 

After a few moments you hear the sound of fabric rustling, followed by the sound of a heavy drop hitting the ground. And suddenly you feel frozen. 

Your heart genuinely feels like it stops for a few moments, completely caught off guard. Your brain is trying to process the fact that Ellie seems to be getting out of her clothes right behind you. 

You hear the soft sound of splashes not coming too long after her clothes hitting the ground, and finally Ellie speaks once again. “Alright! Turn around!” Her voice is also a little shaky, leading you to take it as she’s nervous too; that factor makes you feel better. A breath of relief leaving your system.

You try to steady yourself, now breathing slowly, as you move your body at sloth speed to turn around and see Ellie. 

You’re silently thanking the fact it’s night, the dark sky acting as a blanket over everything, the stars twinkling above, making you feel like they’re also watching this scene unfold. Soon enough you see Ellie swim closer into shore. “Okay, your turn!” Ellie shouts, looking at you, her sentence leaving you awkwardly standing. “What?!” You laugh out, No way. No way you're doing all this shit in front of Ellie. 

“The water feels amazing!” She yells out, splashing around with her arms as if she’s trying to prove her point. At the same time trying to calm her own nerves!

You stare at her for a few seconds. “You’re insane.” You laugh softly, your heart rate now starting to calm down. The idea of being in front of Ellie with nothing but underwear and a bra seems terrible, far too vulnerable. 

Ellie thinks for a few seconds, going quiet. “Look!” Ellie shouts, her figure now standing up in the water. You watch as she visibly turns around, as if she’s trying not to make this feel as weird as it does. And you do hesitate, eyes moving to the water below then to the starry night. 

“It’s nice in the water, I promise!” Ellie says softly, a smile evident in her tone. 

You look at her figure from behind, your heart picking back up again as you move your hands to the hem of your shirt. Hands moving above your head as you strip yourself of your t-shirt. The cool air hits your skin, and you feel the need to put back on your shirt, but you don't; you suck it up.

Your hands then move to your shorts, fingers accidentally fumbling with the buttons. The silence between you two is deafening, both under a silent understanding that maybe this moment deserves quietness. And in all honesty, when Ellie heard your clothes falling behind her, her thoughts ended up freezing anyway!

Not too long after ranting about how going in the water was insane, you're now just in your bra and underwear, hesitantly moving to the edge of the shore as you let your legs get covered with the cool water. It is cold but refreshing. 

“Can I turn around now?” Ellie questions, her voice soft as she breaks through the water's gentle movement. It’s softer than before, almost hesitant. The sound of Ellie's small movements almost sounds as loud as your heartbeat, which is saying a lot. 

“Mhm.” You mumble out, body still adjusting to the cool water. It’s up to your chest now, the lake pulling you deeper with each step. Yet it’s not just the water pulling you closer; maybe it’s something else. Like the way Ellie's voice sounds, a little more open, vulnerable, something you again haven't heard in so long before this night. Maybe it’s the fact that you’re both finally here, now in the same space together, the quiet acknowledgment that in this moment, you are both standing on the same ground. 

You glance over at her and really see her, in one of her most vulnerable forms, the same way she’s currently seeing you. The moon reflecting on both of your wet skin. You see as Ellie's eyes are fixated on you, the same amount of intensity yours are holding. There are no walls, no playful manner; it’s just really the two of you, laid out on a hypothetical table for each other to see. It makes your breath hitch.

You don’t even realize it immediately, but the initial space the two of you had eventually started to fade. The steady rhythm of your breathing, everything is unspoken yet clear; you both have crossed the line. 

And maybe it’s the lack of words that's encouraged Ellie to make her next move; there's a clear absence in her thought process, but can you blame her? The way you were looking at her, eyes locked on each other. It all came together to make her incredibly delirious. 

Her body shifts with a small wave of a movement. Her gaze never leaving yours, both of your eyes locked together. It almost seems like she's waiting for something, waiting for you. It’s silent, yet you both know what is playing out, and suddenly kissing a girl doesn’t seem as scary as before.

Ellie doesn’t even wait for permission; she doesn't have to. Her hand reaches out to touch your cheek, the other hand moving to graze your arm. You feel her calloused fingers. Her touch is light but unmistakably deliberate. She doesn’t pull away, and neither do you. It’s a simple connection but electric. 

And without thinking too deeply into it, Ellie closes the gap.

A/N -> after MONTHS part 3 is finally out!!!

I am SO sorry for everyone who I kept waiting, i’ve been on the other side of this and I completely understand how annoying it is to wait for someone to continue their series!

I swear life just got insane and I’ve been so so so busy, not the mention the crazy writes block I was going through!

I will make sure the next part doesn’t take as long as this one, yet i’m not sure how quick i’ll be getting it out.

( I have school, work, and sooo much more so I apologize in advance! )

Ily you all soooo much and thank you for understanding!

(likes and reblogs are always appreciated)

taglist: @diddiqueen @bready101 @mcqueeferson (can’t tag some ppl!)

[yesihaveaobsession]

Perfect

Alastor x female!reader

Summary: Tis the season to bake Christmas cookies in hell with the one and only, but also bickering like siblings out of love?

You stood at the counter in the overly decorated kitchen (thanks to Charlie) at the hotel, sifting flour into a mixing bowl while humming along to "Jingle Bell Rock." You felt an eerie presence behind you—the distinct crackle of static that always signaled Alastor’s approach. His shadow loomed before he leaned in slightly, peering over your shoulder with his wide, sharp grin.

“Ah, what do we have here?” His voice dripped with playful curiosity as his crimson eyes scanned the open cookbook in front of you. “One teaspoon of baking soda, three cups of flour… My, my, that’s quite precise, isn’t it?” he remarked with a slight head tilt. You shot him a side-eye glance, trying not to smile. “Are you here to help or to critique, Mr. Radio Demon?”

“Help, of course!” His grin widened. “Let me read the instructions for you, dear. Wouldn’t want you to miss a step.” You sighed but let him take over, secretly enjoying his antics. As you measured the sugar, Alastor leaned in closer, his voice low as he exaggerated every syllable of the recipe. You hoped to God he didn’t notice how your heartbeat sped up with his closeness.

“Now add... two cups of granulated sugar. Oh! But do be careful, my dear. Too much, and you’ll ruin these delicate little morsels.”

“Alastor,” you said in a warning tone, though the amused smile tugging at your lips betrayed you. “You’re going to end up in the batter if you don’t back up.”

“But then the cookies would be absolutely divine!” he teased, his laughter ringing out like a melody. You couldn’t help but let a smile slip, even though you tried not to.

As you rolled out the dough and started cutting shapes, Alastor leaned in again, deliberately close, inspecting the cookie cutters with exaggerated interest.

“You’re putting an awful lot of effort into these,” he remarked, his voice low and smooth. “Do you think anyone will notice if your stars are a little… lopsided?”

“Do you think anyone will notice if you mysteriously disappear?” you shot back, raising an eyebrow. He laughed again, that mischievous, almost melodic sound, and grabbed a cutter of his own, pressing perfect shapes into the dough.

“Touché, my dear. Perhaps I’ll lend my talents to spare you any potential embarrassment.”

The two of you worked side by side, falling into a comfortable rhythm, sneaking glances when you thought the other wasn’t paying attention. When the timer dinged, you opened the oven to reveal trays of golden-brown cookies, their shapes just imperfect enough to be charming. At one point, as you rolled out another batch of dough, you felt something cool and sticky press against your cheek.

“Alastor!” you gasped, reaching up to touch your face. He had taken a small piece of dough and placed it squarely on your cheek, his grin widening in delight.

“Oh, don’t give me that look!” he said with mock innocence, his crimson eyes gleaming with mischief. “You’re practically glowing now. I thought a little floury enhancement would do wonders.”

You glared at him, but the corners of your mouth twitched. Scooping up a tiny bit of dough, you flicked it at him, aiming for his nose. He dodged easily, laughing as though you’d just told the funniest joke in the world. “Now, now, my dear. Let’s not start a food war. That would be terribly uncivilized!”

“You’re one to talk,” you muttered, trying to fight the smile breaking through. “They’re not bad,” you said, hands on your hips as you surveyed the results. “Not bad at all,” Alastor agreed, plucking a still-warm cookie from the tray and inspecting it with exaggerated scrutiny. “Though I dare say my icing expertise carried the team.”

You rolled your eyes but laughed. “Your icing expertise hasn’t even been tested yet. Let’s see what you’ve got, Mr. Expert.”

By the end, the counter was a mess, your hands were sticky with frosting, and the cookies were… unique.

“Well,” you said, holding up a lopsided snowman cookie, “we’re definitely not opening a bakery anytime soon.”

“Nonsense!” Alastor declared, taking a dramatic bite of a tree-shaped cookie. “These are exquisite! A testament to teamwork, my dear.”

You couldn’t help but smile as you picked up a cookie of your own. “Merry Christmas, Alastor.”

He raised his cookie in a mock toast, his grin unusually genuine. Though he wasn’t going to eat the cookie, he was glad to have spent this time with you—and only you. “And a Merry Christmas to you, my dear. Let’s do this again next year.”

[ladykailitha]

The Hellfire Exotic Club Part 12

Welp.

Fuck.

Good news for you guys, bad new for me. I accidentally labeled two chapters as Chapter 12. There AREN'T thirteen chapters. There are FOURTEEN.

So I'll figure out when to post the extra chapter. But in the meantime:

Enjoy Eddie giving the denouement. Like that's it. That's whole chapter.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11

~

Eddie called everyone into the club. Billy Hargrove, Heather Holloway, Nancy Wheeler, Jason Carver, Wayne and all his crew. The only one that wasn’t there was his ace in the hole.

“Thank you all for coming,” Eddie said, sitting on the edge of the stage while everyone sat around in the tables.

Hilariously Nancy and Jason sat as far apart from Billy as possible. What was even more hilarious was that Billy, Stella, and Heather formed a weird triangle trying to keep their distance without looking like it was deliberate.

“Just so everyone is aware,” he said with a grin. “Everything is be recorded, audio and visual.” He pointed to the cameras.

Nancy frowned, but merely crossed her arms and said nothing.

“These past couple of months have been the hardest the club has ever faced,” he began, “in all its history of being opened. And everyone just kept telling me it was bad luck. That bad news comes in waves and that we would ride this out same as always. But it all felt so contrived and I could not figure out why.”

“The absolute arrogance!” Jason huffed. “Thinking you know better than God!”

“Oh honey,” Eddie purred. “I’d have to believe in him to think that. Which I don’t, so shut it. “

Jason grumbled, but wisely settled down.

“Everyone also seemed to think this all started with the arrival of Steve,” he said, causing Steve to flush in embarrassment. “But Steve only got hired because I needed a new Envy.”

“Which I still think is bullshit,” Billy huffed. “What I do off the clock is none of your God damned business.”

Eddie shrugged. “And normally I would agree with you, Billy but you add in it was the mayor’s daughter and I wasn’t going to court legal trouble. But somehow I did anyway. So why?”

Everyone looked around at each other, trying to suss out who was to blame.

“You see I was missing a piece of the puzzle,” Eddie said, leaping off the stage to his feet. “And hooboy, did I get it when I talked to Jonathan Byers.”

Nancy’s head shot up, her jaw slack and her eyes wide. “I don’t have to sit here and listen to this gibberish.” She got to her feet and grabbed her purse.

“What’s matter, Nancy?” Steve said, sidling up Eddie. “Don’t you want to hear how Eddie figured out your scheme?”

Her head snapped around. “There is no scheme it’s all in the deluded mind of the this deranged individual. I will not be part of this.”

“You’re fianceé will probably get arrested,” Eddie said with a half shrug. “For her part in the scheme.”

Nancy turned around slowly. “I’m dating Jonathan. You just said my fianceé was female. A her.”

Jonathan came out from backstage. “That’s right, I’ve been the other man for years. But it was okay with Heather because she got off on cuckolding with other men, too.”

Everyone gasped as they turned to look at Heather.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she huffed, examining her nails.

“You see,” Eddie said, “it always struck me as odd that she would still have a fiancé after being caught with Billy. But there was never any indication that they had broken up. But when Jonathan had told me about the photography studio I got it. Steve wasn’t supposed have been involved at all. It was an accident and one that sent Nancy scrambling.”

He started walking around the room pointing out all the players. “Billy got played as much as Jonathan did. I’m not sure how Nancy got to Stella, but Stella was supposed to target whoever it was that I hired to replace Billy.”

“For all your talk of equals,” Stella spat, “the men still out numbered us women two to one. All she had to do was ask, though she paid me too. I didn’t realize that she was planned on shutting the place down. I thought she was trying to get you to sell it.”

“Then go to a different strip joint,” Eddie said rolling his eyes. “Oh wait... it’s because I actually pay my strippers. Do you really think that the new owners would be as generous?”

She gave little half shrug with a moue. “It would have been if I bought it.”

Everyone gasped again.

“Go to hell, Stella,” Bakir hissed. Bakir was an immigrant and his English wasn’t very good. “Would be horrible boss.”

“Fucking hell,” Scott agreed. “I’d take Eddie over anyone willing to hurt people for money.”

Danny raised her hand. “Which brings up an interesting point, what does Nancy get out of this?”

Eddie grinned and snapped his fingers at her. “I was thinking the same thing. What does Nancy Wheeler get out of shutting down these businesses? And the answer is a world-wide exclusive to the story. I think she got this high off getting the lab shut down when she was in high school that she had to keep chasing. That same high serial killers get.”

“So what did start all this?” Steve asked from the table he shared with Scott and Robin.

“Jason Carver,” Eddie said smugly. “When Chrissy broke up with him, he became enraged. He had known that Nancy had done exposés before and brought her to one of the Sin nights. She didn’t agree to it until she heard that it was one of the places Jonathan cleaned on occasion.”

Jason’s head whipped around to face her. “This wasn’t enough on its own?” he huffed waving wildly at the poles on the stage.

“No,” Eddie said shaking his head with a huff. “She had to control Jonathan because if he got wind of her schemes he would leave her for good.”

“Damn right,” Jonathan snarled. “And this is me breaking up with you Nancy.”

“You don’t know what you are doing Jonathan,” Nancy purred. “I’m trying to save your soul. Or I could tell Mommy all about how you took pictures of me while I was undressing. A sweet, underaged girl.” She batted her eyelashes at him.

Jonathan began laughing. “That? That’s what you’ve been holding over my head all this time? I told my mom about that when I got into a fight with your then boyfriend and the cops got called. Fuck you.”

She snapped her mouth shut and glared at him. Her hold on him well and truly gone.

“Back to the scheme,” Eddie said landing at Heather’s table. “The first thing she did was find out the weak parts of my operation. She must have overheard me telling Jeff, that a political scandal would be grounds for instant termination.”

Nancy shrugged. “That alleyway is so easy to hide in, you really should get that checked.” She winked at him.

“Then she deployed her fianceé,” Eddie continued clicking his tongue against his teeth, “to find an easy mark to get into bed with. Immediately she zeroed in on Billy. Loud, obnoxious, and egotistical. He was perfect.”

“Fuck you,” Billy huffed. “No one made me do anything!”

Eddie chuckled. “Too easy, honestly. It’s honestly the one fault I find in your plan, you could have chosen someone a little more difficult.” He held up his thumb and forefinger close together.

“But I digress.” He held up his hands. “Billy would get caught with Heather, by Nancy, a part left out the papers because she has friends in high places in those publications.”

Again Nancy looked smug.

“You won’t be so smug when Eddie gets through with you,” Steve said shaking his head. “Where are your denials now?”

“Why deny any of it?” she asked with a laugh. “He’s painting me to be some evil genius, that’s quite the accomplishment.”

“Don’t worry, I’m just getting started,” Eddie assured her, walking over to where Stella sat with Danny and Levi. “This is where she tripped up. Stella was supposed to keep escalating the attacks on the new dancer until they got seriously hurt or they quit. Only they weren’t counting on Steve. Steve whom, if Nancy let get hurt like that would seriously damage her reputation. So tried everything she could to dislodge him herself. But Steve was already entrenched into the club’s culture. So she had to show her hand early so that Stella would be forced to stop the attacks against him.”

“I knew it was a risk,” Nancy admitted with a shrug. “I thought I could appeal to his better nature and our friendship, but he likes stripping.”

Steve laughed. “Hell yeah, I do. It’s good money and better company.”

Nancy rolled her eyes.

“But then it really unraveled,” Eddie said with a grin, “when Jonathan spotted Steve coming out of the dressing room after his lap dance and asked for help. He wanted to know Steve knew of any place that would be willing to take him on full time.”

“When I found out she was willing to help Steve get a job,” Jonathan spat, “but was constantly undermining my ability to even hold a job, I was willing to take anything Steve could help me get so I could get out from under her thumb.”

“Then I met with him,” he continued. “I found him to be genuine and hardworking. His foreman spoke highly of him and all I needed to know was what position he would take. So everyone I would you like you to meet Jonathan Byers, the new chef’s assistant under Monty.”

All the crew of Hellfire clapped except Stella, Levi and Danny.

“And I would like to introduce you to our three new dancers,” Eddie finished with a wink. “Micaella Dimitriou, Kyle White, and Mason Clark. After all Levi, Danny, and Stella are under arrest now.”

“What?!” Danny squawked, leaping to her feet as cops swarmed the club.

Immediately Heather started crying about how she was tricked into all this and how much of a victim she was. All while Nancy screamed about how much of a bitch she was and how she never loved her.

In the end, Jason, Heather, Nancy, Stella, Levi, and Danny were all carted away for varying offenses.

Eddie dusted his hands off. “Right now that garbage has been cleaned out, I am announcing that we are closing the club for two we–”

A roar of outrage erupted from the rest of the crew.

He held up his hands. “Just for two weeks and you’ll get paid based on the average from last year. We are going to be doing some remodeling and it will allow the new dancers time learn their roles.”

There was some murmuring, but that was fair enough.

“Micaella will be in Megera,” Eddie said, “the Fury of ancient Greece. Mason as Set, the Egyptian god of chaos, and Kyle as Kimaris, marquis of hell.”

That got a lot more cheers and excitement.

“Megera will be taking over as Wrath,” Eddie said. “But this time I did give anyone the chance the audition for it.”

Scott snickered. “I still don’t know how you kept it from those three, it was brilliant seeing their shocked Pikachu faces.”

“Oh!” Eddie said with a shy smile. “That was easy. I didn’t tell anyone it was to replace them except for a couple of close confidants.” He shrugged. “I even had them come in, told them it was for a new routine.”

Gareth raised his hand. “He didn’t tell me. Probably because I would have blabbed it all over the place.”

“He didn’t tell me either,” Chrissy said, “I think he wanted me to have plausible deniability if Stella came after me. Which she had shown in the past she was willing to do.”

“Right in one,” Eddie said snapping his fingers at her with a fond smile. “I only told Wayne, Steve, and Scott.”

Jonathan tilted his head to the side. “Why those three?”

Eddie started counting off on his fingers. “Wayne and Scott because they were going to be helping me hire. And Steve because he figured it out on his own. Didn’t you, beautiful?”

“The dance he was having us learn was very...” Steve said with a blush, “angry?” He snapped his fingers. “Fierce! That’s the word. I also knew that Billy had be conspiring with Stella, so I figured that Eddie was going to replace her.”

“Fair enough,” Chrissy said. “So what are all the changes that are being made?”

Eddie launched into getting new tables and chairs, a new stage, a better sound equipment and eventually a new wing, but that would take longer than the two weeks he was willing to be closed. He explained that they would continue to work at night, while the construction crew worked during the day.

“Then to celebrate the new opening,” he said, “we’ll finally do the fairy tale night!”

Then the cheer really did go up. They had been wanting to do that for ages. They had their costumes and had the dances down, but first Chrissy hurt her ankle and then this shit came up and it was past time for them to do it.

Eddie giggled. “Is this why detectives do this shit? Because holy hell was that a rush!”

~

Part 13 Part 14

Tag List: CLOSED

1- @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @zerokrox-blog @gloomysoup

2- @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @cryptid-system

3- @maya-custodios-dionach @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog

4- @irregular-child @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @forgottenkanji @garden-of-gay

5- @anne-bennett-cosplayer @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon

6- @dragonmama76 @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @disrespectedgoatman

7- @counting-dollars-counting-stars @tinyplanet95 @ravenfrog @swimmingbirdrunningrock @lingeringmirth

8- @gutterflower77 @a-lovely-craziness @just-a-tiny-void @w1ll0wtr33 @beelze-the-bubkiss

9- @dreamercec @sadisticaltarts @too-much-tma-stuff @dolphincliffs @chameleonhair

10- @themoonagainstmers @novelnovella @micheledawn1975

[the-offside-rule]

Mason Mount (Manchester United) - Theatre of Dreams

Requested: yes

Prompt: 10) Baby's first game

Warnings: none

Baby Prompts

The sun hung low in the sky as Mason, his wife Y/n, and their son Joshua approached the iconic Old Trafford stadium for Joshua's first ever football match. Excitement buzzed in the air, and little Joshua, donned in a mini version of his dad's jersey, couldn't contain his giggles. "Daddy, are we going to see you play?" Joshua asked, his eyes wide with anticipation. Mason chuckled, holding onto his son's tiny hands, carefully leading him into the stadium. "Yes we are, bossman." He replied, lifting him up as he spotted the few reporters and photographers, not wanting to reveal his son, nevermind startle him. Whilst everyone knew the couple had a child, they didn't know what he looked like or anything about him. "Can you score? You haven't scored in ages." Mason looked over to Y/n who attempted to hide a grin. "Yeah, I'll try."

Mason showed Y/n and Joshua up to the box where most of the WAGs stayed, telling them about where everything is and how to leave after the final whistle blew. "So I'll wait for you in the car park?" Y/n asked. Mason nodded. "Yeah, just-" He was cut from his wrds as he felt a small tug at his trousers. The couple looked down to see Joshua pointing out the window. "Daddy, it's so big!" Joshua exclaimed, his voice filled with awe. Mason grinned, sharing a look with Y/n and once again lifting Joshua up. "Yep, it's one of the biggest stadiums, buddy. You're going to have a great time." Mason placed a gentle kiss onto his son's cheek. "Now, you sit with Mummy and I'll see you after the game, yeah?" He suggested, handing him over to Y/n.

"Bye, Daddy!" Joshua smiled, pulling at his mother's jacket. "Oh, before I leave-" He paused and reached for a black Manchester United bag, pulling out a small box and handing it to Joshua. "I got you a quick pressie." Joshua examined the box carefully before pulling the lid off and being confronted with a bright red jersey. He lifted it and looked at the back, his father's number staring back. "What do you think?" Mason asked gently. "It's not blue." Joshua replied. Mason couldn't help but feel his heart drop a little bit, the thought of his son not supporting him lingering in the back of his mind. "But red is my favourite."

Mason beamed with joy and ruffled his hair. "Good man." He grinned. "I'll see you after the game." He stood up and leaned over to Y/n. "Love you." He whispered. "Love you too."

As the players took to the pitch, Y/n and Joshua cheered with unbridled enthusiasm, their voices merging with the chorus of supporters around them. "I see daddy!" Joshua exclaimed, clapping his hands. "No, baby. Daddy is number 7, not 19." She explained calmly. "Oh. Okay." He searched the pitch again before turning back to his Mum. "What number is 7 again?"

As Mason walked back to the car, he smiled gently upon seeing Y/n leaning against the car. "Missed you." He said with a tender smile, grateful for her unwavering support. She giggled as he practically fell into her arms. "Ot has been 2 hours." He shrugged. "I dom't care. Couldn't wait to get off the pitch for once." He said, pulling away and looking behind her. "Was he okay?" He asked, referring to Joshua who was asleep. "He was fine. He's just a bit sleepy now." Mason nodded. "We should get home and get him to bed."

As the couple reached home, they stopped in silence for a moment. "This is mad, you know." Mason arched a brow. "I mean, I remember my first match as your girlfriend and now we have our son coming with us. That's all I mean." Mason smiled sleepily. "It is mad when you put it that way." Mason undid his seatbelt and hopped out of the car. "Would you mind bringing in my kitbag and I'll bring Joshua to bed?" Y/n agreed before grabbing his bag and heading inside.

With tender care, Mason unbuckled Joshua's seatbelt, his movements slow and deliberate so as not to disturb the tranquility of sleep. He marveled at the innocence that radiated from his son's peaceful countenance, a sight that never failed to fill his heart with a sense of warmth and pride. Gently cradling Joshua in his arms, Mason stepped out of the car, the cool night air washing over him like a soothing balm. As Mason made his way towards the house, his footsteps were soft and deliberate, each one a testament to the love that guided his every move. He savored the weight of Joshua in his arms, the bond between them forged in the quiet moments of tenderness and affection.

Mason kicked off his shoes upon reaching the front door. He loved home. The warmth of the house enveloped them like a comforting embrace and each step on the soft carpet adding to the comfort. Mason tiptoed up the stairs, his movements fluid and effortless as he navigated the familiar terrain of their home.

Mason opened the nursery door, hushing Joshua as he stirred in his sleep. Mason gently laid his sleeping son down in his crib, tucking the blankets around him with infinite care. He lingered for a moment, his gaze lingering on Joshua's innocent face. "You doing alright?" He turned to see Y/n leaning by the door. "Just fine. I'll be right back to you in a minute and we can go watch a film or something." He replied. "Or try for baby number 2." He almost jumped at the suggestion. "Do you mean it?" Y/n chuckled softly at her husband's reaction. "Maybe. Don't leave me waiting too long." She said before heading away downstairs.

"Goodnight, Joshua." Mason said as he brushed a gentle kiss against Joshua's forehead. With a final glance, Mason tiptoed out of the room, the door closing softly behind him, and for his son to sleep after spending his evening in the Theatre of Dreams.

[bambi-kinos]

You said in the other post, Paul understands the inner workings of other people well enough, so he's probably not autistic.

What do you think about his poor self awareness? And the (supposed) problem with touching people. And the fact that he often hurts people and is then baffled by it when they tell him?

I'd love to hear more of your opinion!

I think Paul's cold persona, reluctance to touch people, and not understanding when he's hurting people is all related to his personal stubbornness, PTSD, and radical self preservation.

It's hard to explain why Paul is the way he is so I don't blame anyone for thinking he's autistic and I actually agree that he leans that way a bit more than the other Beatles do, it's not coming out of no where. There's a missing coupler between Paul and the rest of mankind. But I think for Paul it is more emotional than a genuine difference in brain structure as compared to allistics. Paul perfectly understands facial expressions, changes in vocal tone and body posture, all that stuff. The disconnect is a deliberate choice on Paul's part to not accept other peoples' feelings in order to protect himself from harm.

A lot of it stems from Mary passing away and how Paul's family did stupid fucking shit for no reason in reponse. Like at one point Paul and Mike were off in their room crying because DUH THEIR MOM HAD FUCKING DIED AND THEY WERE UPSET and one of the aunts came in and told them to stop it because they were hurting Jim when they cried??? LMAO?????????? Then Jim made it worse by having his fits and would belt Paul across the face when Paul talked back to him. (And the thing is we know Paul's family realized this was wrong because one of Paul's aunts later claimed that Jim never hit the kids despite testimonies from Paul and Mike about the "bashings." It's easy to dismiss this stuff as "well it was a different time" and there is truth to that but I find it telling that the McCartneys tried to hide Jim hitting his sons despite corporeal punishment being encouraged and embraced by society at large until like, the 1990s at best. Almost as if Jim's abuse was something shameful no matter how encouraged or recommended it was by his peers.)

The point is I think that this means that Paul learned early on that no one gave a shit when he expressed his feelings and that he would actively be punished and savaged for it if he did. It's commonly understood that he's repressed as a result but it seems less understood that this is the likely source of Paul's inner well of rage. Brian's comment that Paul is an angry person is a really fascinating insight into a man that we would not ordinarily call angry. So where is the anger coming from? What did it do to Paul and his relationships?

That kind of upbringing and Paul's natural tendencies to withdraw into himself means that he learned to protect himself early. If he's getting yelled at and punched by his own family members for minor infractions like "crying when my mother dies" and "I want to hang out with my boyfriend" then I don't see why he wouldn't be a seething ball of anger and resentment. It's still present in recent memory with the Howard Stern interview where Paul talked about Jim hitting him and how Paul eventually managed to stop it by saying "Go on do it again!" At which point it stopped being fun and the wind came out of Jim's sails. Never happened again. (Funny how that works isn't it?) Paul is extremely sensitive to being mistreated and knows whose fault it is when he is punished for being human. He doesn't accept being scapegoated for something he didn't do.

That seething anger and resentment turned Paul into someone who had to hide everything for his own safety. And it made him someone who locks people out because he doesn't want to do the emotional labor of giving a shit about their opinions and feelings, it always backfires and it always hurts him. No one, absolutely no one except Linda, ever reciprocated his vulnerability and trust. Paul actively had to hide his grief over Mary's death because his aunts got mad at him over it. He tried to split time between his father and John when they both wanted him resulting in one of those two guys physically attacking him over it, and it wasn't the one who has a reputation for being a wifebeater!

That is what makes Paul choosing John over Jim so momentous. That was when Paul decided that he wasn't going to care about Jim's feelings anymore. He no longer took his POV into account. Jim did nothing but hurt him when Paul needed him to be a dad. Refused to be understanding, even struck him when Paul defied him. This set a much bigger pattern that persists today where Paul refuses to perform the emotional labor of getting invested in other people and their feelings. He tried that for years for his own father, look where it got him? He had to shed that completely just to make it to the fucking Cavern much less as an international superstar.

But this also has a knock on effect. If Paul stops giving weight to the emotional input of the closest people around him and then the people who aren't close to him, then he effectively loses the skill of pausing for a second and thinking "what will happen to other people if I do this, will I inconvenience someone? Will they be ticked off at me? Am I hurting someone if I do this?" That's not so bad when he's climbing to the top but it is a bigger problem when he's trying to function as a human being outside of the paranoid shithole that was Forthlin Road.

I think that Paul is frightened of and resentful about having to care what people think (remember how pissed off he would get when he got bad grades in school from teachers who got sexually excited from caning students) and that this wellspring of emotion has never dried up inside him. The original targets of his rage are dead and gone but the rage still remains because justice was never served and Paul didn't get closure. Those self defense mechanisms don't disappear when he is happy and comfortable which means that he accidentally hurts John when John tries to open up to him and that he's callous to Linda when she's having issues in their relationship. This is because the last time Paul gave a shit about how his actions appeared to others, his own father slapped him for it or his own aunt told him that being sad wasn't allowed because it hurt daddy's feelings or his three best friends spent 2 years trying to bully him into signing with a crook even going so far as to character assassinate him in the press.

It's akin to scar tissue IMO, Paul has accumulated a lot of it and it interferes with his ability to be self aware and his attempts at physical affection. If you get hurt in the wrong place and develop scar tissue then you can't extend your arm or leg to its fullest extent. Paul suffers from the same thing, just emotionally. He cannot afford to care what people think of him which really means he has to shoot from the hip and hope his instincts land him in the right place.

Like it is true that Paul is affected by internalized homophobia and ohhh societehhhhh and all that so he struggles to express himself because oh my god what if the gay and oh my god i look like a girl what if they treat me like i'm a giiiiiiiiirrrrrrrrrrllllllllll. But a much more fundamental insecurity is that no one in Paul's immediate circle was willing to make room for his true feelings without judgment when it mattered. His friends and family members happily used that against him to abuse him and had the goddamn gall to pat themselves on the back for it lmao. That's been a major theme in Paul's life and I 100% think that "lack of self awareness" is a defense mechanism he developed so that he protects himself from the burden of expectations. Thinking of himself in the eye of others means opening himself up to their judgment and that's deadly for him. Otherwise he'd be running in 20 different directions trying to make everyone happy which is exactly what he ended up doing when the Beatles were breaking up, with the exact same results of his friends/family members ganging up on him and using his emotional investment in them against him. Which is exactly what Jim tried to do with Paul becoming a Beatle in the first place. Once again it took someone else stiffening Paul's spine (in this case Linda) to get Paul out of the emotional labor pit.

And the thing is Linda Eastman is the only person in the world aside from Paul's kids that didn't try to use Paul's stumbling atrophied attempts at vulnerability against him, ever. She could give him hell in other ways but she never did the below the belt tactics that everyone else in Paul's life (except for Mike) used against him. Paul made a literal physical monument to Linda in response:

And I'll be honest dude I'm 100% projecting here but I find Paul's upbringing very relatable. Those are internal conclusions I came to years ago as well, even up to fielding accusations from other people of not being human and other snide insults John tried throwing at him in Melody Maker. Like no cuz we're perfectly human we're just not going to waste that humanity on you specifically because look what you do with it every time. Ain't no one got time for that.

When Paul says that he feels confused by someone expressing their pain, he's referring to finding out that they were in pain after the fact like when he found out like 13 years later that John was mad at him for not composing the Family Way movie score with him. That is what Paul finds baffling, because he's not going to perceive that in real time (why the fuck would he) and he's sure as hell not going to waste brain power on it. If it is actually that important then someone can bring it up with him again later.

I do know there is a quote floating around about Paul having to tell John to stop adding personal expenses to the Apple account and that Paul was nervous about having to tell John the bad news. I read that more as Paul being bewildered that he was the only one who seemed to be taking these things seriously despite the other Beatles being just as greedy as he was. However it has also been a long time since I read it so I wouldn't stand on that.

Paul ignores other people and their feelings as a self defense mechanism which results in him repressing his natural inclinations for affectionate gestures and reciprocal relationships. Notice that his most natural looking photos are with his wives and children, no one else. He refuses to spend energy on other people after a life time of being pushed around and used and stabbed in the back. No matter what sort of therapeutic language gets thrown around there's no shaking the results of decades of experience. This has become such a foundational building block to his person that it is to Paul what having a beer with dinner is to other people. He isn't even aware that it is something he is doing and has to actively fight it because it is so unconscious.

And that is a lot of things, none of them very good. But I don't believe it makes Paul autistic. It is a separate complex that presents in a very similar way to autism without being the same thing.

[heartseungs-archive]

going below zero | l.dh

genre ❄ coworker au, enemies to lovers, slowburn, fluff, angst pairings ❄ attorney!donghyuck x attorney!reader word count ❄  10.2k synopsis ❄ Considering how much Haechan makes it his personal mission to antagonize you at work, it seems like a rather cruel twist of fate that the both of you have been side by side since middle school, the only consolation being that his office is a different floor from yours. But if there’s a saying about how distance makes the heart grow fonder, your attitude with him might just be the opposite, and it’ll take a family ski holiday to find out. warnings ❄ mentions of alcohol info ❄ merry christmas everyone!!! i hope you enjoy this small present and hava a very warm holiday wherever you are  <3 (it's currently below freezing in seoul and I'm typing this barely half-alive in my hotel room at 1.50am after returning from gocheok sky dome)

You enjoy your job. Mostly.

Besides the long hours, gruelling paperwork, inefficient district judiciary, and shitty coffee, of course. It’s all bearable, especially if you think about the multiple zero digits in your annual salary and the occasional bonus. And of course, you’ve developed a certain fondness for your office, which gives you a lovely view of the palaces and Seoul’s skyline.

“Y/N. Your coffee.” Karina passes you one of two mugs, specifically the one with daisies on it. Everyone working on your floor has made a deliberate effort to get distinct coffee mugs out of disdain for sharing, and you’re all the more grateful for it, especially on days like this. You take a tentative sip, and barely prevent yourself from spitting it out.

Maybe the burnt espresso will be the tipping point for your resignation after all.

“I still can’t believe the tenth floor shares their cups communally. Renjun would flay us if we tried suggesting it,” Karina mutters. She’s dressed in a form-fitting suit today, blouse slightly untucked. It’s been two years since she joined as a paralegal, and you’ll miss having her careful eye to look over your documents. Still, if there’s anyone deserving of becoming an associate, it’s her.

“It’s what happens when you have a floor that’s ninety-per cent men. Especially with people like him.” Your voice narrows to a sharp point, and Karina already knows who you’re talking about.

“I still don’t know what’s up with the both of you,” she muses, and you shrug. “It’s a long story. One that I’ll tell if I’m drunk and tired. Unfortunately, it’s currently-” you steal a glance at your watch, “-nine-thirty on a Monday morning, so wrong time.”

She gives a nod of acceptance, grimacing at the harrowed expression on your face. “Well, if you need anything, I’ll be outside.”

“Wait. Karina,” you call out, and the girl halts, arching an eyebrow at you. “Where’s the case that we were working on last week? The medical negligence one.”

There’s a nervous expression on her face when she takes in your words, and you don’t have a good feeling about what she’s going to say next.

“Karina. What is it.”

She smiles sheepishly, and that’s when you really start getting scared.

“Haechan…said he could take over because you were busy with your current ones and Mr Kim agreed. It happened when you were on leave last Friday. I thought he emailed you.”

“You have got to be fucking kidding me.”

Karina tries to flash a smile, but it comes out more like a pained cringe as she watches you close your eyes, and then take a deep inhale. You’re deathly quiet, and it’s slightly terrifying. “I’ll be back,” you force out, and she turns, alarmed, as you stride out of the office.

“Where are you going?”

You don’t answer.

Haechan gives it approximately five minutes before you reach his office. It takes three minutes for you to take the lift up, and it’s about twenty metres from the lobby to his personal office.

If you’re particularly enraged, however, your pace might be a little faster, so he accounts for that too.

“Three…two…” he counts down to himself, before the sharp knocks come.

“One.” The last word leaves his mouth with a note of finality, before you’re standing in front of him, eyes alight with indignation. It’s one of his favourite expressions on you. “Lee Haechan!” You shout, and he jumps a little at the loudness of your voice.

“You know, if you’re going to come in before I even allow it, you might as well not bother knocking,” he comments, turning his chair to face you.

“If you hadn’t taken my case, I wouldn’t even need to be here. Medical negligence isn’t even your specialty. Go back to whatever you’re doing in real estate.” You wave a cursory hand in the general direction of his desk to emphasise your point.

“But I think it’s interesting. And Mr Kim said he wants the lawyers at his firm to be versatile.” Haechan looks at you innocently as he says it, but the slight upward tug at the corner of his mouth betrays his real intentions.

If this was anyone else, you might have believed them. But Haechan never genuinely wants to help you, not unless he gets something out of it. Sometimes, he just wants to get on your nerves. It’s like some sort of twisted stress relief therapy for him, finding new ways to torment you.

“Look.” You run a hand through your hair, as if it’ll do something to calm your emotions. “Why are you doing this? Just leave me alone and we can live our perfectly happy lives. Doesn’t that sound good?”

For a second, he looks to be deep in thought, genuinely considering your suggestion. Until a smirk creeps up onto his face, and you mentally sink to your feet in dread.

“But that wouldn’t be any fun,” he says while gazing at you innocently, lips settling into a soft pout, and you feel a sharp tick of annoyance.

You’re going to kill him one day. You’re sure of it.

“So, are you drunk and tired enough yet to tell us what your deal with Haechan is? I’m curious, and so is Ningning.” You narrow your eyes at the two girls sitting opposite you, identical stone-faced expressions resting on their faces. “Was that your entire scheme by dragging me out on a Saturday night?”

Karina grins. “Maybe.”

You look to Seulgi for support, but she only shrugs. “I kind of want to know too.”

“I’m not getting out of this, am I?” You ask, and Ningning shakes her head, pouring another shot of soju for you to down. You take it gratefully, relishing the cold burn as the alcohol makes its way into your system. Where do you start?

“I’ve known Lee Haechan since high school, if you have to know.” There’s a soft murmur of surprise from Karina at that piece of information, but you ignore it and continue.

“We’ve been competing over everything since we were teenagers. Think student council presidency, valedictorian, and best speaker at debate club sessions. When we got to university, it was the dean’s list and travel scholarships.”

Seulgi hums in thought. “And now that you’re both in the same company, it was the promotion to associate.” You nod. She’s quick to catch on, but you’re not finished.

“It wouldn’t be that bad if he was just a competitor. But of course, with my shitty luck, that man just so happens to be the devil’s incarnate,” you mutter venomously, and Ningning raises her hand. “But I think he’s got a good sense of humor.”

When no one responds, she coughs awkwardly. “Sorry.”

She’s not entirely wrong, of course. Haechan’s funny in the way an internet video is, when you see someone getting pranked and laugh at them for not figuring it out sooner. However, it’s a bit harder to find joy in it when you’re on the receiving end.

“Have you considered…being friends? Maybe he’s just trying to get closer to you,” Seulgi suggests, and you shake your head vehemently. Her statement is a bizarre one in itself. If Haechan wanted to make amends, there were hundreds of better, other ways that he could have gone about it, instead of making you want to tear your hair out at every turn.

“Not happening. We’re way past that now,” you decide, and she looks at you doubtfully, as if she wants to say something. Before she can open her mouth, however, Ningning sits up in alarm, temporarily sober as she looks directly at you.

“I overheard Mr Kim saying he was looking to promote one of our senior associates to a partner next year. But doesn’t that mean….”

You stiffen at her words, the grip on your cup growing impossibly tighter. There’s a mental list of the senior associates in your firm that you quickly run through, but they’re all eliminated for various reasons here and there, until you’re left with two options.

You grit your teeth.

“Oh dear,” Karina mutters as she looks at your expression, as if already aware of what’s about to happen. Seulgi instinctively reaches a hand out to comfort you, but you barely register it.

Compared to the trivialities of freshman year, this is vastly different. Being a partner at the firm means a stake in the company, a concrete role and title that will cement your position. It’s every associate’s dream, and something that you’ve wanted since you first walked through the shiny glass doors of your office building. You’ll be damned if Haechan takes it away from you now, when your dreams are so close in reach.

There’s nothing much you can do now, however, besides crossing your fingers and waiting. You’re not sure if anyone’s keeping a tally of the cases that you or Haechan have won so far, but if there is, it’s likely neck-and-neck. Still, you hope your clean record and stellar performance count for something, even if you lack the natural charisma that he’s brimming with.

If you’re lucky enough, Mr Kim might select you for the diversity representation, just to even out the gender statistics in the company’s annual report. It’s not a fair or honourable way to win, but it’s a win nonetheless.

“On the bright side, there’s only a week until our Christmas break. You won’t need to see Haechan in office at all for a month at least.”

Seulgi’s good at saying the right things in the right situations, and you feel a sigh of relief escape you at the thought of being free of his presence for a good amount of time.

Until you realise she’s dead wrong.

At your guttural groan, Ningning looks over in alarm. “Are you sick? You should have listened to me when I told you not to drink so much alcohol-” She’s cut off by Karina placing a gentle hand on her arm, and waiting for you to respond. “Y/N, is there something wrong?”

It’s a few too many moments before your head comes back up, hair dishevelled and expression pale. “Remember when I said Haechan and I went to the same high school?” It’s a rhetorical question. Of course they remember. You swallow thickly, gaze roaming over the three girls in front of you as they patiently wait for you to continue.

“I may have forgotten to mention that our parents have been best friends for the past two decades.”

There was one clear memory of Haechan that you had from your childhood, and it involved crying. A lot of it. You had an irrational fear of sunflowers and subsequently bees, perhaps because there were always swarms of that exact insect around them.

It only took two days of Haechan finding out about this before he snuck sunflower seeds into your lunchbox, and told you that eating them would cause said flower to grow in you. Your teacher had found tears streaming down your cheeks once the bell rang, and Haechan ran off to tell everyone about how easily you had believed him, how gullible you seemed.

The relationship between the both of you never quite seemed to repair properly after that incident, even as your parents made hopeless attempts to make the two of you playmates.

You would have assumed that the animosity between both of you would mellow out once you turned older. After all, it was nothing but a foolish stunt pulled by a mischievous child.

Yet, the awkwardness devolved into competition and mutual dislike, especially when you realised that the both of you were constantly fighting for the same opportunities. And then he became wittier, always saying the right comments to make anger creep up the back of your neck.

Your parents might have saved a lot of effort if they knew the state of things between the both of you now.

“Well, isn’t someone looking cheerful today.” The familiar cadence of his voice grates at your ears. Haechan had been an avid member of the choir in his younger years, and you can still recall him winning district singing competitions. You would enjoy his voice more if it was disembodied and separate from the man himself.

“I rather walk than sit in your car,” you retort, but you know you’re lying through your teeth. Even then, he won’t abandon you, considering how his mother was very firm about the both of you showing up together and giving her regular updates. You wouldn’t put it beyond Mrs Lee to facetime the both of you at any time, just to check.

Haechan’s car is comfortable, and it seems to be the one thing he splurges on, besides his apartment in downtown Seoul. The leather seats are plush behind your back, and there’s a faint lavender smell that lingers inside. You’re not sure why you can recall those exact bits of information, considering you can’t remember the last time he drove you somewhere. Two years ago, he still had an old Toyota Camry, and the both of you would usually just take the train.

There were a few good things about the pandemic, and one of them was getting to work from home. The second was that you didn’t have these yearly trips back with Haechan, established as a tradition after the both of you relocated to Seoul for university.

Still, you’ll endure it, if it means getting home to spend Christmas with your family. The holiday has always evoked a sense of homesickness in you, and it’s likely due to the amount of effort your parents put into celebrating it. They weren’t religious, but they made sure there was always plenty of presents and hot chocolate.

It was fun, even if you were sent over every Christmas morning as an eight-year-old to wish the Lees a merry Christmas and endure Haechan’s teasing.

“I can’t believe you still listen to Michael Jackson.” The song that plays through the speakers is something you haven’t heard in years, but you’d recognize it anywhere.

“It’s good music. I’m not sure why you dislike him so much.”

“I would enjoy his music a lot more if you hadn’t blasted it at two in the morning during finals season,” you say bitterly, and Haechan lets out a low chuckle. The both of you are stuck in traffic, and the silence that settles in the car is painfully awkward. You and Haechan don’t have much to say to each other, besides sharp words, and you’re starting to regret it a little.

You can feel Haechan’s eyes on you when he turns his head, fingers drumming on the wheel. However, you refuse to afford him the pleasure of meeting his gaze, your eyes resolutely fixed on the car in front of you.

His throat bobs slightly, nervously. “Look, we’ve got a long drive ahead of us, and I rather it not be in silence. Let’s just pretend the company doesn’t exist. Truce?” He asks, and you try not to make the relief too obvious on your face. At your nod, Haechan breaks out into a brilliant smile, one that makes his features irk you less.

He should smile more instead of that smirk that he has all the time, you think. You would prefer it more.

“Now, what song do you want to queue? I’ll let you have music rights for the next three hours.”

The house looks exactly as you remember. Even then, the colours are brighter, more saturated in your eyes, tinted with the unmistakable nostalgia of childhood. You step carefully onto the robin’s egg-blue porch, luggage behind you as you ring the doorbell.

It’s like both your and Haechan’s movements are in sync, likely looking identical from the back.

You had forgotten to mention to the three girls that the two of you happened to be next-door neighbours as well.

There’s the pitter-patter of footsteps against wood before the door flies open, and your mother is in front of you and hugging you tightly. She feels so much smaller than you, so different from the imposing figure of your childhood. There’s weathered lines across her face, but the brightness in her eyes is still identical to your memories.

You smile. “Hey, mom.”

“Look who’s here,” the low timbre of your father’s voice rings out before you see him, and your smile grows inexplicably wider. “How was the trip here? Haechan drove safely, didn’t he? I should buy something for them later. Gas is expensive these days, you know.”

“He was going to make the trip anyways. Besides, doesn’t it save more gas if we travel together?” You question, and your mother rolls her eyes. “I forgot about that mouth of yours. It’s only become worse since you’ve become a lawyer,” she sighs out, but her eyes are full of mirth.

Your luggage is deposited in your room by your father before you can even offer to help, and you realise that your family hasn’t made any effort to redecorate the empty space, instead leaving everything as it is. Some of your vinyls still sit on the shelf, along with photographs and trophies from different competitions. If you dig hard enough, you might be able to find your old clothes as well.

“Oh, Y/N, don’t unpack yet. Help me bring this over to the Lees,” she hands you a cooler bag, and you peer inside to find banchan neatly packed into tupperware and freshly-baked cookies. “Don’t you want to deliver these yourself?” you ask hopefully, but immediately sink back down when she shakes her head. “It’ll be good for Mr and Mrs Lee to see you. Now go.”

It’s a small consolation of sorts that Mrs Lee is the one opening the door when you knock, and Haechan is nowhere to be found.

“I feel like I say this every time I see you, but you’ve grown so much.” The warm smile on her face elicits one from you too, and you wonder why the apple fell so far from the tree. As you go past the hallway, you can’t help but feel like you’re transported back to childhood. The house is as familiar to you as your own, even if most of your time here was spent bickering with him.

Once you reach the kitchen, you unpack the lunchboxes, tiptoeing to reach the fridge drawer. “I think these are good to be refrigerated for two weeks. Where should I put it?”

“Anywhere on the top shelf is fine. Do you want coffee?”

A latte isn’t usually your drink of choice, but you’re grateful for any caffeine hit after the long ride. Along the way, you had decided to take a nap, and Haechan had woken you up by blasting a song in your ear at full volume.

“Mom, did you see my winter coat- Oh, it’s you,” Haechan says when he steps into the kitchen, and you muster a polite smile on your face. Mrs Lee frowns slightly. “That’s no way to speak to our guest. And it’s on the uppermost shelf of your cabinet. Why don’t you walk Y/N out?”

“It’s fine, Mrs Lee, I live right opposite-”

“Sure,” Haechan cuts in nonchalantly, and you widen your eyes at him, a silent question. He deliberately ignores your heavy gaze and loops his arm in yours. “Well, come on. Let’s go.”

“Why are you looking for your winter coat? It’s not that cold yet,” you ask curiously, and Haechan halts in his steps, a puzzled expression on his face.

You’re shifting uncomfortably now, tense as Haechan continues staring at you. “What?”

Until the confusion on his face fades to a certain sort of mischief, and he leans down until his face is inches away from yours. You step back abruptly, putting some distance between the both of you, but the smug smile doesn’t leave Haechan’s face.

“Didn’t they tell you?”

“Tell me what?”

“We’re going to a ski resort. You and me.”

There’s a light in Haechan’s eyes as he says it, one that seems to spell death and doom. You’re too stunned to speak, everything tuned out save for his face in front of yours.

At least now you know why your mother stopped you from unpacking your luggage.

There’s something about the airport that makes you feel like you’re dreaming. It’s the hallways that seem to stretch on endlessly, and the way you lose track of time save for the numbers displayed in bright red on the large digital clock.

It’s one of your favourite places in the world. Planes, however, not so much. The dry air, cramped seats, loud noises, and the fact that you’re tens of thousands of feet above solid ground serve no purpose other than making you uneasy. Even though the improvement in Haechan’s and your salaries mean that your families can escape sitting in economy, you still can’t ignore the fact that the only thing saving you from falling to your death is a hunk of floating metal.

“Any drinks for you?” The air stewardess in front of you is bright-eyed, absent of the anxiety swirling in your stomach. “Just apple juice, please,” you mumble, setting the cup down in the holder in front of you. You probably won’t drink it anyways.

When takeoff begins, you try your best to ignore the rumbling of the plane, instead choosing to lean back and close your eyes. The sooner you fall asleep, the better.

Until the plane jerks violently, and your eyelids fling open. You can faintly hear the pilot apologising for the upcoming turbulence, but it barely registers, fading into background noise in favour of your thundering heartbeat. It seems sleep will be far out of reach today.

“Hey, you okay?”

You’re tempted to ignore Haechan, but he doesn’t sound teasing, instead genuinely concerned. You’re quite sure your face is twenty different shades of pale, but having him see you like this brings a flush of embarrassment to your cheeks. “I’m fine,” you force out, and wonder if you can request to change seats. 

It’s been a long time since you last got on a plane, and when you were young, you would be sandwiched between your parents. You’re wishing now that you had insisted on sitting with one of them, but it was obvious that this was some sort of double-date arrangement between your families, with you and Haechan as collateral.

You’re an adult, Y/N. Pull yourself together.

Your knuckles are bone-white from how hard you’re gripping the armrest, and Haechan, perceptive as ever, quickly figures out what’s wrong. “You’re scared of flying, aren’t you?”

You screw your eyes shut, exhaling shakily. “Shut up, Lee. I can’t do this right now.” He falls silent, and you think he might have temporarily retreated from teasing you for the moment.

The feeling of someone’s hand over yours quickly catches your attention, however, and you’re temporarily pulled away from your fear to look down, bewildered. “I used to have a younger cousin who was scared of flying.” He doesn’t offer any other explanation when he intertwines his fingers with yours.

You hate to admit it, but the warmth of his hands provides a welcome respite from your unease. When the plane jolts again, your grip tightens momentarily, and you expect Haechan to have some sort of teasing quip at how easily you jump. Contrary to your expectations, he simply smooths his thumb over your hand, a calming, repetitive motion that makes it easier for you to breathe.

Even when the seatbelt sign flickers off, Haechan doesn’t make any motion to move away. “Feeling better?” He asks, and you nod slowly. There’s a grin on his face at your response, one that is surprisingly genuine.

It takes a few seconds of Haechan staring at you before you cough awkwardly, immediately extricating your palm. It makes you feel slightly foolish, realising that he must have wanted you to let go of your own accord so he wouldn’t feel bad. He almost looks disappointed, but you’re convinced the fear has induced a hallucination of sorts.

You’re feeling fine now, or at least that’s what you think.

Until hours later, when the pilot announces descent, and your heart rate picks back up. Haechan doesn’t wait for you to ask this time, immediately slotting his fingers between yours.

“Thank you. You don’t have to do this,” you say thickly, strangely grateful for the man sitting next to you. Despite his endless teasing, he seems to know how to help at the right times. Maybe Ningning’s right, that he’s not all that bad. You suppose you’ve demonized the boy to an extent, driven by years of childish retorts.

In reality, you don’t hate him as much as you make it out to be. There’s just a feeling of walking on eggshells at his presence, a certain way that Haechan makes you feel off-kilter from never being able to predict what his next actions will be.

“You know, if you just wanted to hold my hand, you could have said so.” Haechan’s words make your cheeks burn, and you whip your head to the side to stare the boy down.

“I take it back. You’re the most infuriating person I know.” His forehead wrinkles slightly at that, and you realise he had not been privy to your previous thoughts. “Take what back?” He asks, and you ignore him. The apple juice is conveniently placed in front of you, and you gulp heavily from it. Anything to avoid telling Haechan what exactly you were thinking.

He moves closer, and you choke slightly at his proximity. At this distance, you can see your wide-eyed expression reflected clearly in his eyes. He scrunches his eyebrows in thought, and you can’t help but think he looks almost…adorable. Until you give yourself a violent kick mentally.

“You said that you wanted to take it back…you don’t think I’m infuriating?” There’s a hopeful glint in his eyes, one that makes your heart stumble at an unfamiliar pace. “Perhaps….even endearing?” He muses, unable to hide his smirk now. You’re lost for words, cheeks painted scarlet as you stare at the boy.

The buzzing of the overhead intercom jolts you out of whatever trance Haechan has put you in, the clicking of seatbelts filtering into your ears. You shove him away lightly, enough to put much-needed distance between the both of you but not enough to wound him. A breath escapes Haechan as he falls back into his seat ungracefully, but his eyes remain fixed on your figure as you hurriedly get up to take your overhead bag.

Until you tiptoe, fingers scrabbling at empty space, and decide that whatever higher powers up there must really have it out for you. The familiar black duffel bag is just out of reach, likely having shifted backwards during the course of the flight. You’re prepared to admit defeat and ask your father to help, when there’s the feeling of someone’s back against yours, warm and solid. You jerk your head around in alarm, only to see Haechan easily grabbing the bag and holding it in front of you.

He’s too close. Much too close for comfort.

“What are you doing?” you demand, but it comes out more as a high-pitched stutter, betraying your nerves. “You seemed to need some help. You know, I didn’t realise how short you were without your heels,” he comments, and you’re left unable to reply, too distracted by the way he’s still pressed close to you. It suddenly feels difficult to get enough oxygen, and your heart is going a mile a minute. There’s an exhale of relief that escapes when he finally moves away to make way for another passenger.

You don’t miss the way his eyes follow you even as you stride quickly down the aisle to join your parents, and a flush creeps at the back of your neck.

This holiday is going to drive you mad.

“So, how’s the trip going? With Y/N, no less,” Renjun asks, unable to hide his grin. Haechan hums in thought, settling on a pillow as he decides on a response. “Not bad. We’re making progress.”

“Progress as in…she’s less interested in homicide and more towards assault?” Haechan genuinely considers it for a second, before he nods in assent. The look on Renjun’s face is a mixture of frustration and bewilderment.

“Lee Haechan, you’re hopeless.” He sits up indignantly at that statement, glaring at Renjun even through the grainy screen. “Honestly, I’ll be surprised if Y/N even reciprocates your feelings. For a successful attorney, you sure are an idiot.”

The lack of faith is disappointing to Haechan, but no matter. Getting you to like him back has been at the top of his wishlist since junior year, and he’s not about to give up now.

The memory of you walking into the club room with your school blouse neatly tucked in and hair tied back still remains fresh in Haechan’s mind. You had been a model student, but not in a way that felt too overbearing. Maybe sometimes you would frown at his bright Converse shoes, or loose tie. But they technically weren’t against school rules, so Haechan continued to tiptoe the fine line between dress code and responsibility as vice-president of Student Council.

Originally, the boy was happy enough to be the chairperson of the debate club, until Jaemin, his labmate, had very cleverly pointed out that the both of you would get to head the annual prom together.

And so he decided to campaign, effectively providing one of the most stressful experiences of your high school years.

Those were some of the best memories of his final year, sitting in the classroom with you and ironing out details for hours. It was obviously something that you were passionate about, giving up so many sleepless nights just to research the exact decorations.

It was one of the things he liked most about you, that spark in your gaze when you saw something you liked, or fixed your mind on something. On occasion, it would appear when he teased you, though it was often accompanied by anger. Still, he craved it. Haechan liked having your eyes on him, even if they were narrowed with exasperation.

And when finals had ended, the invisible heavy burden on your shoulders had seemed to lift, and you laughed easier, smiled more. Even when he pestered you, there would only be an indulgent smile on your face. Prom was barely a week away, and he thought that would be it. That he would ask you to be his date, and maybe, finally you’d see him in a new light, beyond the boy who always seemed to be competing with you.

And then you disappeared from school without any information whatsoever, right up until the day itself. He had even asked Ryujin, the secretary of student council. Everyone was clueless.

The next time Haechan saw you was in the university lecture hall, and his shoulders had sunk in relief at the sight of your face.

Now, seven years later, Haechan was still playing a game of catch-and-toss for your heart, but he didn’t mind.

The boy had been feigning an expression of nonchalance when he offered his hand to you in the plane, but when you didn’t pull away, Haechan was quite convinced that his heart was going to leap out of his chest.

He’s not sure if you’ll let him hold your hand again, but a man can dream. The doorbell rings then, jolting Haechan out of his thoughts. “Give me a second, Jun,” he mutters as he sets the phone down, slippers thudding softly against the carpeted floor.

When he flings the door open, the last person he’s expecting to see is the one that’s been taking up his thoughts.

You’re swamped in an oversize hoodie and leggings, hair dishevelled and reading glasses balanced on the tip of your nose. It’s obvious you’ve woken up recently, and he steals a glance at the clock before focusing back on you.

You look different. But a good different.

“Weren’t you going down with them to the village?” He asks, and you smile sheepishly. “Overslept.”

The ski resort the both of you were in was located high up in the mountains, and there was a shuttle bus going down to the winter village twice a day. Your parents had suggested going down for dinner, but Haechan had work to clear up and decided to stay back.

It seems fate has a funny way of leaving the two of you together, Haechan thinks as he looks at you, still slightly drowsy. “Wanna go get dinner?” There’s an involuntary grumble of your stomach at his words, and Haechan chuckles slightly. He presses the end call button without a second thought, before grabbing his leather jacket.

“Come on, let’s go.”

He tries to hold back his smile when he feels your footsteps behind his.

The first thing you realise is that the restaurant is full of couples. You’ve only seen one family so far, the rest of the patrons seating in tables of two. You chalk it down to pure coincidence, even as the waiter hands you a menu that’s awfully thin.

“I’m Jisung, and I’ll be your server for today. Our menu is a four-course set with seasonal ingredients designed for couples. Let me know whenever you’re ready to order.” The boy standing in front of your table looks awfully young to be working at a fine-dining establishment, but his voice is level as he arranges the silverware.

You suck in a nervous breath when you notice that the price isn’t even printed on the menu. It means that it’s expensive, and you’re not sure you want to know how much. You’re not one to splurge unnecessarily. “The food better be good,” you mumble, not noticing the way Haechan smiles softly at your comment.

“I’ll cover the bill,” he suggests, and at the resistance in your eyes, Haechan waves a dismissing hand. “I picked it anyways.” You don’t protest further.

Despite the steep price, you can’t help but admire the high ceilings of the restaurant, black marble walls offset by tasteful streaks of gold.

“Y/N.” At the mention of your name, your attention is pulled back to the man sitting opposite you. In the warm glow of the candlelight, his features are rounder, more delicate, and his hair somehow darker. It leaves you breathless, and you’re not sure if it’s the atmosphere around you, or the way that you’ve been feeling stranger and stranger around Haechan lately. Your eyes flit momentarily to the rings adorning his fingers, the ones that you’re used to seeing every day.

If there’s a saying about how distance makes the heart grow fonder, your attitude with Haechan might just be the opposite. Having to interact in close proximity daily for the past two weeks has made him more tolerable somehow, an acquaintance rather than a nemesis. He seems to have lightened up on the taunts as well, instead replacing them with sarcastic quips that aren’t directed at you and that elicit a laugh more often than not.

It reminds you of senior year, when the both of you had been working so closely for the student council. Haechan had been your partner and your equal then, his competition more of a motivation than a threat. But university had been a rat race with thousands of other brilliant minds that sought to outdo and outlearn, so individualistic that the both of you never did quite talk about the almost-friendship that had formed.

“I assume you know about Mr Kim’s intentions to promote one of us to partner next year,” you start, unsure of what else to say. It’s been something that presses at the back of your mind, even as you go for hot chocolate runs with Haechan and sit in the lounge room together to clear last-minute emails. “I hope you know that I’m not intending to give up.”

Haechan smiles. “I wouldn't expect anything less.”

“But…” you trail off slightly, and he leans forward, eyes curious. You decide just to bite the bullet, not leaving any room to reconsider.

“I think you’re good at what you do. And I think it would be easier for us to work together in the future if we weren’t constantly at each other’s necks.” Your voice gradually gets softer as you continue, but Haechan hears every word. He notices you worrying your lip and the faint set of your eyebrows, and realises that you’re nervous. It’s no secret that he finds certain habits of yours endearing, but this expression on you might be one of his favourites.

“Well, height-wise, you’re still at my neck.”

“You-”

“Kidding. So we’re friends now?” He has to bite back a laugh at your glare. You’re still so easy to rile up. “We can be anything you want to be,” you say nonchalantly.

Haechan knows that you don’t mean that literally, but he thinks about the possibilities anyways.

He wants to say more when Jisung appears, a bottle of red wine grasped in his hands. You look up from your bowl, confused. “Oh, we didn’t order red wine.”

At your protest, however, the boy smiles. “It’s on the house. Are the both of you celebrating anything? An anniversary or a birthday perhaps,” he suggests, and you shake your head. “We’re not…we’re not a couple.” You’re unsure why you stumble over your words, but Haechan seems to find it amusing from the way he’s coughing politely into his napkin.

Jisung blinks awkwardly, and you blink back. “Apologies for assuming. Enjoy your dinner,” he replies after a moment too long, rushing off after filling both of your glasses.

“I think we scared him off,” you say guiltily, and Haechan snickers. “He’ll be fine. To be fair, this is a dinner set for couples.”

“But we look nothing like a couple,” you interject, and there’s a flash of doubt that crosses Haechan’s face, before he quickly schools it into nothing. He takes a large gulp of the wine, before grinning at you.

“Of course. I’m too good-looking.”

It’s a blatant lie, of course. Haechan thinks you’re the prettiest person he’s ever seen, even when you had your thick-rimmed glasses in second grade and the most obnoxious blue braces. He’ll never have the courage to admit that, however, and Haechan’s starting to fear that his feelings are going to go unspoken forever.

This time, you manage to not oversleep.

The alarm goes off two hours before dinner, reminding you that it’s time to get ready. Your presents are already prepared at the corner of the bed and neatly wrapped, even though you know that your parents aren’t the kind to require excessive formality, and neither are Mr and Mrs Lee. You’re not sure about Haechan, if he’s remembered to prepare gifts. When you asked him at breakfast, he had evaded the question, which meant that he either had something prepared or was too embarrassed to admit that he had forgotten.

You’ve been waiting to wear this dress for a long time, a blush pink satin that’s pretty but comfortable enough for you to move around in. It’s been a long time since you’ve had the luxury of taking your time to get ready, considering you’re always cutting it close to sneak in extra sleep before work.

Despite your early preparations, however, the clock seems to tick much too fast. You’re tugging on your heels when there’s a sharp knock at the door. “Coming!” you shout, giving yourself one last look in the mirror before you pull the handle open.

“Oh, wow. You look…nice,” you say absentmindedly, only realising the words are too far gone to take back when a glimmer of satisfaction shows up on Haechan’s face. It’s not the first time you’ve seen him wearing a suit- attorneys practically live in a blazer and slacks, after all- but this one is all-black, the top two buttons of his blouse unbuttoned to reveal his collarbones. It makes his features even sharper, fabric contrasted against his warm, honey-toned skin.

You try not to think about how it’s the same exact material as your dress, and that people- namely your parents, would have assumed the both of you planned it beforehand.

Haechan’s appraising gaze makes warmth creep up your neck, and you shift from foot to foot, waiting for him to say something. Anything. “You clean up pretty well too. Ready for dinner?”

The both of you are friends, Y/N. Friends can compliment each other, you assure yourself, even as your pulse flutters uncontrollably at his words. He offers an arm out to you like a perfect gentleman, and you exhale shakily through your nose.

This dinner may be more difficult that you expect.

The both of you are guided to your table by a different waiter this time, Jisung nowhere in sight. Thankfully, there’s a much wider menu to choose from now, and your parents are splitting, offering a respite to Haechan’s wallet.

“Oh, I wanted to pass you your present first,” you say, retrieving the gift and placing it in front of Haechan. There’s excitement bubbling in your chest as you watch him arch an eyebrow curiously. “Open it,” you encourage, and he lifts up the cover, a surprised laugh escaping him.

“Where did you get this?” He asks, and you crinkle your forehead slightly. “I ordered it online, and I was scared it wouldn’t get delivered in time because of the snowstorm. Take it as a present from one vinyl collector to another.” Haechan breaks out into a brilliant grin at your words, one that illuminates his entire face. The corners of his mouth quirk up, however, when he places a velvet box on the table.

“You actually remembered to get a present? From your reaction at breakfast today, I thought…”

“You think too lowly of me,” he complains, poking his tongue into his cheek. Your eyes are bright, however, as you take the box from him, only realising that it’s velvet once you smooth your fingers over it. “This isn’t something scary, is it?” You question doubtfully, and he shrugs.

“You gave me fake insects half a decade ago, so forgive me if I’m not entirely trusting-” you fall silent when the box clicks open, revealing a pearl choker that you immediately recognize.

“Haechan, this-”

He barely reacts to your wide-mouthed shock. “Merry Christmas, Y/N.” The wish is sincere, and the way he says it makes your heart stretch just a little wider.

You can’t believe he remembers.

For prom, you had suggested a vintage 1980s theme, and Haechan had seen the Vivienne Westwood necklace sitting in your online cart along with the decorations. You never did purchase it because of the hefty price tag, and it was gradually forgotten.

Seeing the three rows of pearls in front of you now, however, brings on a wave of nostalgia.

“You should try it on. It matches nicely with your dress.” he offers, and you pick up the necklace from where it’s resting, hands shaking slightly as you close the clasp around your neck. “How does it look?” you ask, swallowing nervously as you focus back on Haechan, who has an unreadable expression on his face.

“Beautiful,” he mutters softly, but his eyes don’t dart down to your neck at all. You want to think that he’s lying. However, the way his eyes remain transfixed on your face as he says it has your pulse fluttering wildly.

There’s a lump in your throat as you fiddle with the necklace, feeling the cold of the pearls against your skin.

“I wanted to give it to you on the night of prom,” Haechan says then, a silent question in his eyes. The implication behind his words is heavy, considering that all you remember having with Haechan in senior year was a rivalry-turned-tentative-friendship by necessity.

Instead of the anger you expect it to provoke, the idea of him being the one fills you with a  certain nerve-wracking thrill, like the kind you get just before a rollercoaster drops.

“I wanted to go, you know. But something happened with my family, and I-”

“It’s okay, Y/N. We’re still here now, aren’t we?”

His question isn’t one that you need to reply to, because you know the answer.

Haechan is one of the people you know best in this world, besides your family. He thinks you’re a little too uptight sometimes, but you find him too aloof. That you’re not particularly extroverted, preferring to stick to a close circle of friends, while Haechan can talk to almost anyone and everyone. Until you forced yourself to make it to parties and meetings in order to beat him out in garnering votes from the student body. And then gradually, it became easier.

He’s always pushed you out of your comfort zone effortlessly, and you hate to admit it, but you wouldn’t have done this much if he hadn’t been right in step behind you.

In the end, the both of you boiled down to one similarity- pure ambition, the kind that pushed you to endure long hours and sleepless nights in order to get what you wanted.

Currently, the both of you are teetering on the edge of an invisible precipice, steps away from tumbling into wildly unfamiliar territory. And what terrifies you the most is that you don’t particularly seem to mind the idea of falling. Haechan has always been able to provoke reactions so easily from you, split-second impulsivities that make you lose control of your emotions.

You and him are not polar opposites, as much as you would like to think. Haechan just covers his with a veneer of casual confidence, while you would rather not be in the spotlight unless necessary.

“Haechan, if-” you start, and the look in his eyes when he hears you speak is so hopeful, so full of anticipation that it causes you to stop abruptly. He’s beautiful, you think. The slant of his cheekbones, the angle of his jaw- it’s no secret that Haechan is attractive by most conventional standards, but it’s the first time he’s rendering you speechless. You’ve never really been able to truly look at him, too focused on the imminent threat that his presence seemed to signify.

And now that it’s gone, you’re genuinely seeing Haechan for what he is. Your equal, and someone you’re hopelessly attracted to, for good reason.

Until the jolt of a chair yanks you out of whatever trance-like state you’re in, and you whip your head around to see Haechan’s father, along with the rest of your families.

“Sorry for the wait. What were you young people talking about?” He asks, and your mind blanks for a second.

How are you supposed to tell him that you think you might have feelings for his son, after fighting tooth-and-nail with him all these years?

You make eye contact with Haechan then, and there’s a silent promise in his gaze. The both of you will talk about whatever it is between you eventually. For now, you’re here to celebrate with the people you love most in the world.

Lee Haechan included, you suppose.

Hangovers are not a good look on Haechan.

At least, that’s his first thought when he wakes up, head heavy and throat dry. But he’s an adult now, and that means taking responsibility for his not-so-sober decisions.

By the time he takes a cold shower and brushes his teeth, it feels like some semblance of life has returned to him, and he uses the thought of breakfast as motivation to get dressed and head down. It’s a petty sort of consolation that everyone else will probably be feeling worse than him, you included.

He makes a direct beeline for the hot food, piling a plate with bacon and eggs. And then he reaches the drink section, pausing for a second. “What did she say she liked again?” he mutters, staring at the juices with two cups in hand.

When he reaches the table, there are soft ‘good mornings’ from everyone, and Haechan takes the seat opposite yours, smiling brightly. “Here. I wasn’t sure which one you might want, so I got both,” he says, setting the drinks down in front of you. One’s a cappuccino, and the other cranberry juice.

You blink tiredly, looking up at him in mild surprise. “Thank you,” you mumble softly, before returning to your food.

He frowns. Haechan’s seen you hungover before, and it’s usually not like this. And he’s quite sure you didn’t drink as much as him, considering you weren’t the hugest fan of alcohol. It would be wiser for Haechan to leave you alone to rest- after all, you did say thank you, so surely nothing’s wrong.

However, he wouldn’t be him if he didn’t get to the bottom of things.

“Are you feeling unwell? There’s hangover medicine in my luggage, I can pass you some-”

“Nope, I’m good.”

“How about ramen? We can make some later,” he prompts, watching your expression carefully. You shake your head, and Haechan tries not to look too shocked.

“But it’s ramen,” he continues, expectation evident in his gaze. Haechan knows you. You would never turn down an offer of your favourite food.

“I’ll pass this time,” you reply, shifting uncomfortably in your chair. He falls silent, watching as you pick at the rest of your food.

When you stand up, the sound of the chair scraping seems a little bit too sharp. “I’ll head back first. I forgot about something,” you explain, turning on your heel. Haechan’s eyes dart to the untouched drinks, before they meet your mother’s gaze. He wipes the corner of his mouth hastily with the napkin, before rising as well. “I’ll go find Y/N,” he declares.

Thankfully, the hotel isn’t too crowded at this time, and he spots you just in time. When Haechan skids to a stop in front of you, your hands are around your jacket, pulling it tight around you.

“Hey,” he greets, breathless. You look taken aback, and Haechan runs a hand through his hair, pausing to collect his thoughts. “Are you…I might just be stupid, but are you okay? You seemed a little off at breakfast,” he points out, watching as the emotions on your face change from shock to doubt to…hurt?

“Do you remember what happened yesterday?” You ask, a tremor in your voice as you peer at the boy.

Haechan frantically scans through his memories, heart dropping when it comes up empty. He was talking to his father about football, and then your mother brought up memories from when the both of you were in elementary, causing everyone at the table to laugh.

Anything that happened after the fourth cocktail was a blur.

He pulls himself out of his thoughts to focus on you, shaking his head. Haechan’s eyes are wide as he stares at you. “Nothing out of the ordinary,” he mutters, watching as you nibble on your lip nervously, before sighing. “Come with me,” you instruct, before grabbing Haechan’s wrist and dragging him to a quieter part of the lobby.

You’re standing in front of him, fiddling with your fingers, and Haechan can tell you’re thinking of what to say. “If I did something stupid, you can tell me,” he assures, and the glance you give him is disbelieving. However, the dark clouds in your expression have cleared a little.

“No, it wasn’t stupid, I just have no idea if it was some sort of joke or if you meant it-” you trail off, looking distraught. Haechan becomes alert at the mention of that, his heartbeat picking up slightly. “Y/N, what did I say?”

You’re never one to beat about the bush, and the way you keep hesitating has him nervous.

“You said you liked me,” you finally answer, and Haechan’s world stops.

The memories flood back into his brain a few moments too late. Your parents choosing to rest early, Haechan saying he wanted to stay on a little more-

Oh God.

“It’s three am, Donghyuck. You’re going to wake everyone up,” you scolded, but there was a grin on your face. He had been singing some ridiculous rendition of a carol at top volume, causing you to look away, embarrassed. The staff working the graveyard shift had barely even batted an eye at his antics.

“Huh. You’ve never called me Donghyuck before,” Haechan noticed, blinking slowly. The alcohol was really getting to his brain now, making it foggy. It’s nice, having you call him a name that’s solely reserved for close friends and family. “I wasn’t sure if you wanted me to,” you say, looking caught.

“Of course you can. We’re close.” Haechan tries not to coo when he sees your cheeks warm slightly, and you find yourself unable to meet his gaze, instead focusing on getting to the correct hotel room.

Just as you pull out the keycard, you feel someone come up right next to you, and you look up in alarm. “Is something wrong?” Haechan shakes his head, leaning down towards you. He’s not sure whether you’re one for physical affection, but he can’t help himself when he pinches your cheeks gently.

“Hae- Donghyuck, what are you doing?” You’re confused at his sudden movements, but you don’t pull away, even as he comes closer. Haechan blinks slowly, your face swimming in and out of his vision.

“You’re adorable, you know that? Sometimes I don’t know what to do with you. But you’re also mean to me sometimes,” Haechan whines out, and you’re equal parts flustered and amused by him. “You- you really need to get to bed,” you say once you’ve collected your thoughts, pushing him in the direction of his room.

He’s not sure if it’s the alcohol, but there are words fighting to escape, and Haechan rather not think about the consequences when he has you in front of him, cheeks flushed and eyes wide. You look pretty like this, and you’ve never let him get this close to you before.

It makes him brave.

Which is why he presses his feet into the carpet to prevent himself from moving, turning around sharply to face you again. He’s determined now, looking at you with a certain sharpness in his eyes that makes your pulse unsteady.

“I like you, Y/N. A lot. I’ve liked you for eight years, and I thought you would figure it out by now, or at least look my way, but-” he hiccups slightly, “you haven’t. Is it because I’m annoying?”

Haechan doesn’t remember what your answer was to that question because he might have fallen asleep on his feet then, and quite frankly, he’s terrified to find out.

“Oh.”

The statement makes it obvious that he remembers everything now, and your eyes widen in incredulity. “Is that all you have to say?” you ask, and Haechan feels like he’s at a crossroads.

Renjun would definitely laugh at him for this.

But Renjun would also tell him to be honest, considering the secret is already out. It’ll be awkward no matter what he does.

Haechan might as well give it a shot. He was too scared in senior year, but he’s less fearful now.

“I wasn’t joking,” he starts, swallowing nervously before looking at you.

“I liked you in junior year, so much that I joined the student council for you. And since then, I’ve just been waiting, and waiting, but I’m not sure how much longer I can go-”

Haechan gets cut off when the collar of his hoodie is jerked forward, allowing him to finally meet your height. There’s a look of exasperation on your face, and Haechan’s not entirely sure what that means in the context of him confessing his feelings. Maybe you’ve decided you’ve had enough of him, and you’re going to leave his dead body to be found once the snow melts.

“You’re an idiot, you know that?”

There’s relief that fills him at the lack of murderous intent in your voice, but he doesn't get a chance to respond before you’re tiptoeing and closing the distance between the both of you.

It takes Haechan a few moments too long to register that you’re kissing him before he reciprocates in equal measure. He feels like his heart might burst from the way you’re holding onto him, as if the both of you are the only ones existing at this moment.

When you finally let go of his hoodie, the plain disappointment on Haechan’s face causes you to let out a giggle.

He shakes his head slightly in an attempt to clear it, before looking at you. “Can we do that again?” His question earns him a swat on the back, but you don’t resist when Haechan loops his arms around your waist.

It’s only his second time kissing you, but Haechan’s quite sure there aren’t many feelings that can compare to this.

He might just get hooked on it.

“I can’t believe the holiday’s over,” you sigh, sinking into the armchair. Your luggage is next to you, Haechan looking down with a bemused expression on his face. “Doesn’t this happen every year? Just wait another three hundred and sixty-five days.”

From where you’re seated, you’re not able to reach Haechan’s waist, so you settle for hitting him on the thigh. He looks at you indignantly, but whatever retort he has dies on his tongue when your father calls for the both of you to get into the car.

It’s only when the both of you are comfortably seated at the very back, that Haechan leans over, a mischievous glint in his eye.

“You’re not going to get scared on the plane again, are you?” He asks, and you narrow your eyes.

As much as he jokes about it, Haechan was also the one who offered his hand to you on the flight here. “Whatever,” you mutter. “Just hold my hand now.”

You don’t give Haechan time to interject before you intertwine his fingers with yours, missing the way a blush settles at the back of his neck. He forgets that you’re occasionally imbued with bursts of confidence, allowing you to act in ways that have his heart thundering in his chest.

When he finally looks over again, you’re leaning against the side, appreciating the scenery that drifts by. A smile makes its way onto his face subconsciously, and Haechan’s grip on your hand grows imperceptibly tighter.

You’re the best Christmas present he could have asked for.

[lace-coffin]

Ughhh i love all ur asa things they make me so happy to read!!!!(the ughhh in a /pos way)

But could you do something maybe if u want of asa headcannons where the reader cant sleep without a stuffed toy because it just comforts them to feel safer and they ask him for one over and over and refuses to sleep without one (literally me fr) and they would be violent snap back at him or ignores him till he gets them one and when they do they would become the nicest person ever and start obeying again and snuggle with it all the time AHHHH also the reader would be a house pet if u write about them being at his home instead of the hotel

sorry for the rlly bad grammer or whatever im writing this ask on phone+im trying to be specific because you said it’s easier but im not that good at being specific😭😭

(even if that’s childish to refuse to sleep without a stuffed toy i rlly relate to it so💔)

Thank u sm for the compliment omg!! Don’t worry about being specific if it’s hard for you, feel free to request in any way that makes you comfortable!

It’s not childish at all to sleep with a stuffed animal so don’t feel ashamed, I sleep with my stuffed lamb “lamby” every night and have since I was like 2, she also travels with me!

Asa Emory x gn!reader! Who needs a stuffed animal to sleep

Requests are closed (for now!)

“Please..I’ll be good”

“We’ve been over this, you’re not having her back until you can redeem yourself. End of conversation.”

—

Usually you were a relatively behaved pet, well maybe Asa was more lenient on you than has other “projects” back at the hotel, but well behaved to your standards. You had the privilege of being your masters house pet and significant other, love and submission were intrinsically connected for both you and Asa.

More lenient or not, Asa would be sure to let you know when you were in trouble, and you fucked up. Bad.

You’d been in a sour mood all day, nothing particularly bad had happened to ruin your day however it was like you were itching for an argument, nit picking everything and back chatting your owner, flat out refusing orders just to be a nuisance. It all came to a head during bed time, after squirming whilst being dressed and refusing to get into bed, Asa had already lost his patience with you. Taking it out on your phone that Asa had recently gifted you was the last straw.

During your struggle you’d grabbed your phone, using it as a projectile to ward him off, not only had you missed, you’d watch it hit the mirror, smashing both the glass and screen. After a moment of shock you retreat back into the bed you were vehemently avoiding the minute prior, tail between your legs in panic.

He understood sometimes it can be a lot in this dynamic considering how it came about from less favourable circumstances but today you’ve been pushing him to breaking point. Pushing his buttons on purpose and running from the consequences.

Asa stares back at you from your place in bed, hands flexing and unflexing. He pauses, taking a deep breath and holding for a few seconds to ground himself before releasing and addressing you.

“Sweep it up” he says sternly, gesturing to the dustpan and brush stored in the corner. You grimace but comply, not wanting to make things worse. You clean silently and efficiently, returning to your bed once you finish.

“Better. Now, I don’t know what has gotten into you today and I’m more than happy to talk if you need to but we both know you’ve been deliberately disobedient and destructive. So, I’ll be taking this-“ Asa grabs your stuffed toy sat beside you “until you can learn to behave and treat your things with respect”

Your eyes widen in shock and your fingers twitch with the need to grab it back, you refrain and lace them together, instead settling to give your owner a pouty pissed off look. You knew that having your belongings taken away was an agreed consequence for bad behaviour but it didn���t mean it sucked any less.

“Don’t give me that look doll, you can have her back when you show me you can behave ok? Until then she’s safe with me.” His voice is stern but soft enough to be reassuring, you know he’s not angry at you and he only wants the best for you.

After placing your plushie into his office and locking it he joins you in your shared bed, letting you cuddle up to his side.

Unsurprisingly you ask for her back the next morning despite literally only sleeping between then and last night. Also unsurprisingly he says no. “It’s only been a few hours cricket, you need to show me how you can be good for me, I know you can be such a sweet pup if you try” you huff but agree.

After two more attempts in the span of three hours you declare war. You can’t and won’t wait. In reality you’re afraid, you know you can’t sleep without her, last night was restless and anxiety filled, you didn’t wake Asa because you didn’t want him to think you were being a baby…

Just like that you’re back to being snippy with him, rolling your eyes and talking back. Pretending not to hear him when he calls for you, making everything difficult out of pure spite. You need her back or you know tonight is going to be just as horrible as the last.

“I’m not doing shit until you give her back!!” You bite at Asa, stomping your foot for good measure. All he’d done was ask you to prepare for a bath…

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Asa relents.

“What is this all about puppy? You’ve been touchy since yesterday and somehow even worse today, I understand you aren’t happy about being punished but you’re supposed to be showing me how much you deserve her back.” He pauses for a moment, taking your hands in his and connecting eyes. The look on his face is taut but not angry, unsure of what the issue is but concerned with your distress.

“There’s more to this isn’t there pet. Tell me.”

“Can’t sleep” you mumble, eyes darting down to stare at your socked feet on the hardwood flooring.

“Speak up please”

“I can’t sleep without her! I couldn’t sleep last night and I won’t be able to sleep tonight unless I have her back! I know it sounds childish but she makes me feel safe, I-i can’t do it without her” you sniffle

Asa’s face softens, hand cupping your cheek and wiping away a stray tear. “Oh pet, thank you for telling me, I wasn’t aware confiscating her would distress you this much. I know we both agreed to this in the rules but it seems to have touched a nerve and for that I’m sorry. We’ll iron the rules out and then she will be returned to you, sound good?”

You sniffle and nod, leaning into the warm touch of your masters palm.

“I still expect you to take your punishment but we will discuss it later and make sure we’re both comfortable with it” he tacks onto the end.

Sure enough you update your contract and your fluffy friend is returned to you with another hushed apology from Asa and even one to your plushy, making you giggle.

The day finally feels normal again, tears are dried and you’re back to obeying and being your cuddly usual self, practically hanging off your master as he works or cooks, nuzzling into his neck contently. Mistakes are bound to happen but you always figure it out in the end, only wanting the best for eachother, there’s no one you would rather make mistakes with than Asa.

[canary3d-obsessed]

Restless Rewatch: The Untamed, Episode 40 part one

(Masterpost) (Pinboard)  (whole thing on AO3)

Warning! Spoilers for All 50 Episodes!

Agree to Disagree

The juniors are arguing because Sizhui said that some demonic cultivators might have good intentions. According to Jin Ling that means that Sizhui is celebrating the murders of Jin Ling's parents, or something.

(Actor) Peixin Qi uses forehead-squinching as a primary acting tool, which would be perfectly fine if he wasn't playing a character with a red dot between his eyebrows.

He goes on to say that Wei Wuxian is the evillest of them all, way eviller than Xue Yang. Which in sheer numbers of victims, is probably a fair point. But Xue Yang was way more of a dick.

Ouyang Zichen is all of us when he asks Jin Ling to chill the fuck out.

Sizhui apologizes even though Jingyi is ready to throw down on his behalf. It's unclear if this helps, because Hanguang-Jun chooses this moment to arrive. He immediately defuses the situation with the power of stinkeye.

(more after the cut!)

More Than Meets the Eye

Many differences between CQL and the novel are adaptational choices - Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji's deep, early friendship; the yin iron plot, Jiang Cheng being loveable, etc. Changes like that, I normally don't point out, because adaptations are AUs, in my view, and can be enjoyed separately from their sources.

Other changes are driven by censorship, however, and in those cases I think it's fair to look to the novel and its less-censored adaptations for a peek at what's happening off camera. Particularly when there are scenes and interactions in The Untamed where the show seems to be deliberately pointing to the novel to fill in the blanks.

This moment on the stairs is one such scene. In the show, Lan Wangji carries liquor upstairs to Wei Wuxian, and the juniors react with shock; Jingyi drops his chicken out of his mouth and Sizhui stuffs it back in there.

They are shocked because he bought liquor, and that's the extent of their reaction.

In the Donghua, Manhua, and Novel, Lan Wangji is dragging Wei Wuxian up those stairs, having drunkenly tied him up with his headband.

First he stops to show his prize to the juniors, who have basically the same reaction in every version of the story, including Jinygi dropping his chicken and Sizhui stuffing it back in his mouth. In the novel, however, Sizhui does that to stop Jingyi from saying anything to Lan Wangji & his captive.

The liquor, in all versions, is a clear sign of how much Lan Wangji has mellowed since his youth. In case we need another reminder, we learn here that he let Sizhui get a tattoo on his finger.

Every parent will tell you, you gotta pick your battles.

Returning to to the timeline in which no visible bondage is occurring, Wei Wuxian is sitting around in the room upstairs waiting for Lan Wangji. Wasn't he busy talking to Lan Xichen when Lan Wangji went into the inn to shut the kids up? How did he get upstairs before Lan Wangji? Never mind, never mind.

Wei Wuxian goes to look out the window and Wen Ning appears, hanging off the roof like a dork, or like someone who has seen that one Spider-Man movie and is hoping for some upside-down kissing.

Wen Ning asks if Jin Ling is the kid he halfway orphaned, and Wei Wuxian says yes.

Then he hears Lan Wangji coming, and Wen Ning falls to the ground for no reason.

Wei Wuxian urgently shoos Wen Ning away, trying to hide him from Lan Wangji.

Wen Ning acts way too clueless for someone who spends so much time third-wheeling.

There's no in-world reason for Wei Wuxian to hide Wen Ning; They fought side-by side in Yi City, and they were all together for A-Qing's burial. There's not a problem between him and Lan Wangji.

Once again, the novel provides the missing information. Wei Wuxian is hiding Wen Ning because Lan Wangji is hella jealous even when he's sober. Wen Ning fell to the ground because drunk Lan Wangji leapt through the window and kicked him.

In the novel, Wei Wuxian & Lan Wangji's evening ends with a game of tag that's loaded with sexual tension, followed by a kiss...followed by Lan Wangji literally knocking himself out to avoid taking advantage of Wei Wuxian.

Lan Wangji does everything in the most extreme way possible.

In the live action, the most sexually charged part of their interaction is this positively sinful hip thrust that Wei Wuxian gives when he turns around at the window.

If you've seen Xiao Zhan dancing, you know this is not an accident.

Unlike the novel's perpetually clueless protagonist, live-action Wei Wuxian clearly knows he's on a date right now.

...and he's enjoying every minute of it. He's delighted that Lan Wangji has provided *good* liquor, rather than the rotgut he's able to afford himself.

As he pours for Wei Wuxian, Lan Wangji points out that both of their brothers know who WWX is at this point. Wei Wuxian isn't happy about it but he says they can't do anything. Which is...not correct.

He tries once again to get Lan Wangji to tell him how he recognized him, and Lan Wangji responds by asking him why his memory sucks so much.

Wei Wuxian says "you try dying by falling from a great height TWICE and see how your brain likes it." That's what he should have said, anyway.

This whole thing about his memory isn't actually important in the live action, even though it keeps being mentioned. He's forgotten the name of their song because he was delirious when he heard it; otherwise his memory seems perfectly fine.

I think this might be another instance of the live action giving a wink to novel readers in the audience, because in the novel Wei Wuxian forgot Lan Wangji's confession of love. Which, like WangXian, was presented in a cave while WWX was delirious; Lan Wangji is not great at choosing his moment.

Anyway, this may be why Lan Wangji seems to take Wei Wuxian's memory problems personally, despite having very little in-show reason to be upset.

Lan Wangji changes the subject by asking Wei Wuxian to go to Jinlintai with him, to search for Nie Mingjue's head. Sounds like a perfect romantic getaway for a boy and his favorite necromancer.

Just as Wei Wuxian starts to ask what Zewu-Jun will think, Zewu-Jun and his cheekbones come into the room.

He's taken time to think things over--a concept the rest of the cultivation world could stand to learn about, incidentally--and he agrees that they should investigate.

Note: the non-CQL illustrations come from the MDZS manhua, which is complete online (mangadex.org includes the uncensored extra bits), and is about halfway through being published in English by Seven Seas. It's delightful and I highly recommend it.

Bonus: Lan Wangji and Sizhui enjoying some tie-in cup noodles. (A few in-character ads are included in the Viki version of the show.)

[yuyu1024]

6yrs

Pairings: Yunho × y/n

Genre/tags: lovers to strangers

Warning: pet names, cursing, cheating

~~~ [lmk if i miss anything]

Words: 1.3k

Disclaimers:

- this story is just made up

- english is not my first language, please be nice 😊

A/N: i am in my down moments lately... and i want to write something a bit sad randomly

Hope you all have a wonderful day. 🖤

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

6yrs. You and Yunho have been together for that long already. From college to now as adults. He is your first in everything. He is your guy, your comfort and your safezone. He is the man you always have dreamed of.

He is perfect and He's yours.

However, these past few months have been very... off for you. Well, both of you. And you know why.

A few months ago, after you guys celebrated your 6th year anniversary together, Yunho got a call from his supervisor that he is a candidate for a promotion. That his boss is rooting for him and for sure know that after a few more deliberation with the rest of the team, you will get it.

Both of you were so ecstatic. You even jumped like a kid on a trampoline after hearing his news. Coz you know how hard working and passionate your man is with his job. You know he deserves it.

It will have its pros and cons being promoted especially when it comes to time with you or whatever. But it does not matter coz you know it is his for him and it will make him happy career wise. And you know Yunho will do a good job balancing his life and work.

But then just more than a month after he got the position, it suddenly went south.

Yunho have been going home late two to three times a week. Which is not bad coz its not everyday and too extreme. However, whenever he goes home now you feel the distance building between you two. It felt like he has been coming home to you and expecting to just pick his coat and bag on the floor, make sure he eats and then let him rest.

He have gotten so cold and quiet.

You tried talking to him during his off days. Wanting to suggest to go on a date or hang out somewhere, have fun, play games, watch a movie or something. But he either rejects you because he is tired or if he agrees, it feels so forced.

What happened? You were so lost. Unsure what to do or say. But being the girlfriend, you always made sure he feels loved and taken care off. Because you also thought that he might be just having this transition in his life because of a new environment at work.

You believed that this shall pass.

But as months go by... it gotten worse.

It came to a point that you two feels like two strangera living together. That the 6yrs of being boyfriend-girlfriend was suddenly felt like nothing.

***

"You think.... it's better... that I move out?" You blurt while starting at your plate during breakfast.

Yunho pauses and slowly raise his gaze to you. "What?" He is stunned by your sudden question.

Still looking at your plate whilst poking your food you add, "Because... I feel like... I'm not needed here anymore..." then you eyes lifts up to look at him. "Nor wanted by you anymore..."

He probably stopped breathing for a second but after processing what you said, "Y/N..."

You snort an irritated laugh. "Shocker. You still know my name..." you mumble.

"I'm sorry...." he answers lowering his head. "I'm caught up so much work that I..."

"Just work?" You ask, going back to staring while poking your food.

His head snaps back up, brows rippled. "What do you mean by that?"

"I'm not dumb." You softly say before letting go of the fork then proceed to putting your legs up your chair and  then hugging your knees. "I know... I know everything...." your voice breaks at the end.

An important detail why something is off between the two of you this past few months is that, Yunho, cheating. A woman from his work. His teammate.

You caught him one time, as you were coming home late after having a drink or two with your friends, when you saw him walking with the woman. They are not drunk. They are casually walking together, laughing and acting like they are on a date.

At first you told yourself that they are just friends. That maybe Yunho is just being respectful to the elder girl, who is obviously into him, that he cannot just publicly embarass her to tell her to move away. But then, as you follow them even more just around corner of the next building, you see them making out.

It's not just her making moves to him. Yunho was actually kissing her back. He was kissing her the way he kisses you. 💔

"You know what hurts too...?" You begin , "is that I was standing there.... obviously and in plain sight... but you weren't able to see me... or notice that someone is watching..." you wipe the first tear that roll down on your cheek. "You were to focus on her... so... taken by her..."

"Y/N..." tears starts to build up in his eyes. "I'm sorry..."

"No your not." You say, trying to hold on a bit more to not actually break apart in front of him. "Coz if you really loved me, you would not...you would not ever...."

You fail. You can't stop yourself from crying now. You cover your face as you sob and loudly whine as you express all the pain you have been keeping in for the past months.

It hurts. So painful. And yet the man in front of you can't and won't even defend himself or try to talk.

It felt like he just confessed through his silence that he did and is cheating. And probably will not stop seeing her.

"Why?" You ask. "Am I not enough? Not successful enough...? Ugly?" You take a deep breath in, "Do I not satisfy you in bed anymore? What... w-hat did I do? What made you do it? Why? Why now?"

He becomes silent.

"For fuck sakes, Yunho! Six years! We've beem together for six years and this is what I get? I know I'm not perfect but... God!" You cry it out more, facing him away. You are crying so much that you can barely breathe now and you eyes are blood shot red.

"Y/N..." he stands up and tries to reach out to help you to breathe but you move away quickly.

You stand up and jerk away from him.

"Please..."

"Please what?" You look at him, with sad yet fiercing eyes. "Stay? Why? So you can have someone to act like your 'girlfriend' when your other woman is not around to please you?"

"I... I love you." He mumbles, "please..."

"You don't." You wipe the rest of the tears off your cheek. "You stopped loving me the second you cheated. You are just keeping me around because you are used to having me around. You are just saying you love me because you need me."

"I'm sorry...." Yunho goes down to his knees and begs. "Please don't go.... I... No... I made a mistake... I... she helped me get through all the troubles at work and... it just..."

"You confided with her and not with me? As your girlfriend?"

"I know it's wrong... but... I didn't want to burden you with my own problems..."

"And look what it caused."

"Please...." Yunho crawls closer to you and hugs you by the waist. "I'm sorry... I will stop... I already told her I can't do it... I just... had to tell her to..."

"Yeah... I think it's better if I move out..." you peel him off you. "I don't think I can do it any longer..."

He is crying, looking at you. "Babe, please."

"I'm sorry." You say as you then pull out the promise ring he gave you from your first anniversary.

[sleepyfan-blog]

Adult Conversation

Author’s note: This is the fifth Bully(ing) Cato Sicarius fic series. First. Prev. Next. 

Tagged: @egrets-not-regrets @the-pure-angel @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan @i-am-a-dragon34

Warnings: ask me to tag anything that bothers you

Summary: Cato and Titus rush you off to be checked over by the apothecary post assassination attempt. Afterwards, communication happens.

You knew that Astartes were enhanced. That they could move far faster than baseline humans. But you could swear that it took no more than a couple of seconds for the two squads of fully armed and armored Astartes led by Captain Sicarius and Lieutenant Titus to run all the way back to where Macragge's Honor was moored. A pathway had already been cleared for the two squads to thunder up the main gangplank and through the primary cargo bay of the massive ship.

What felt like another handful of moments later, Lieutenant Titus was carefully setting you down on one of the astartes-sized medical cots while one of the on-duty apothecaries walked over. "Are you injured anywhere, miss?" The apothecary asked, looking you over assessingly "Captain Sicarius informed me that you were the subject of an unsuccessful assassination attempt."

"I'm fine. The assassins were unable to get anywhere near me. Captain Sicarius saw to the immediate execution or disarmament before any of them could get within striking distance." You answer honestly as the Ultramarine apothecary moves closer, resisting the temptation to sigh. "I am a little off-put by the suddenness of the attempt, but I am in perfect health." You look up and over to where Sicarius was standing - not that he had gone far from your side. He was standing at the head of the medical cot you'd been set down on, one hand still holding tight to the pommel of the blade, his other hand close to your elbow, his gaze constantly scanning his surroundings - as if there was a chance that an assassin could get onto the flagship of the Ultramarines Chapter without being spotted and watched carefully. Titus was on your other side, one hand on his bolter, the other close to your other elbow. Both Astartes were visibly tense and unhappy. Considering how close you and Lieutenant Titus had become his reaction was understanding… But you were baffled by just how much protective wrath and worry that radiated from Captain Sicarius. You'd been under the impression that he hated you - or barely tolerated your presence as a necessary irritation.

His emotional reaction spoke to that being untrue, despite his outward statements and enjoyment of teasing you at every possible time. You reach out to both of them, squeezing Titus' hand with one of your own, and tentatively touching Sicarius' elbow, unsure as to how the… Mercurial second captain would react to your touch in such a mood. You look back at the Apothecary as you speak, not wanting to deliberately call out both of their emotional states, not wanting to provoke either one of them "As I said before, I am fine, Apothecary."

"There could have been something in those many tiny dishes that our hosts fed to us. Considering the fact that their security was either corrupted to the point of allowing twenty-four would be assassins into the event or incompetent to do the same, I would strongly recommend that you be checked for any poisons or drugs in your system that could compromise you if not caught in time." Sicarius argued, scowling a little, though he leaned into your touch.

You look to Titus, not wanting to take up any more of the Apothecary's time than you already had - you really were fine, after all! Why were the both of them overreacting so much? But the lieutenant only nodded in agreement with Sicarius' words "I agree with the captain. Please, for your own health, for our peace of mind, allow Brother Apothecary Messinius to check you over and draw your blood for testing?"

Part of you wanted to argue that all of this was wholly unnecessary, but the expressions of genuine worry on both of their faces gave you pause… And it was worrying that so many would-be assassins had managed to get into an event that should have had much better security than it did. "I… Fine. If it will put your worries to rest, I'll allow it."

Titus gave you a small smile and Sicarius relaxed a little.

"Thank you." Titus murmured, his voice going warm and gentle, reaching out and tucking a stray lock of your hair that had come undone from the updo you'd put it in while you'd been astartes-sprinted back to Macragge's Honor.

~

Your post assassination attempt check-up did not take long, and Apothecary Captain (why had you been brought directly to the captain of the fourth company for treatment? Surely he had better things to do than to check up on you? But Titus and Sicarius had both insisted that Messinius himself be the one to check you over, and he didn't seem to mind…) Messinius promised to alert you and whichever of the Ultramarines who were going to be guarding you in your room aboard Macragge's honor if there was anything concerning in your bloodwork. You'd wanted to protest that you didn't need guarding while on the ship, but the worried and irritated expressions on Titus and Sicarius' faces brooked no argument.

Somehow, the news that it would be both Sicarius and Titus who were going to be guarding you personally did not surprise you one bit. Nor was the fact that Titus held you carefully in his arms while Sicarius did a thorough sweep of your personal rooms just in case someone had managed to sneak aboard the ship and plant something in your rooms to try and hurt, maim or kill you. Sicarius found nothing objectionable in your room, and Titus carried you over to your bed, kneeling down as he set you down.

Titus pressed his forehead against yours, breathing in deeply before murmuring softly "I'm glad that you are whole and unharmed, my dear." He is still taller than you, despite kneeling before you on your bed, and leans down slightly, to kiss you on the lips.

SIcarius growls "Lieutenant Titus! Control yourself- step away from her!"

Titus looked over at his brother, arching a brow and pressing closer to you "I will not step away from her. Not unless you ask me to, my dear. Why you are being so willfully blind, I do not know, but now is as good a time as any for this conversation."

You blink in abject confusion. What conversation was he talking about? You were about to ask when Sicarius tackled Titus to the floor, dragging him away from you. "You kissed her!" He hisses.

"Yes, I did. I've kissed her before." The lieutenant rumbled unapologetically, resisting the other as he tried to drag him away from you "I love you, my dear. And I'm not the only one in this room who does. Why Cato is being such an ass about it, I do not know."

"He what?" You splutter, your eyes widening in shock. You wanted to dismiss Titus' words as being utterly incorrect. Considering how much Sicarius had bullied you… And in the ways that he…

But Sicarius never did allow anyone else to bully you around. Physically or verbally. He would immediately reprimand anyone else picking on you and drag any other Ultramarine off for a brutal sparring session.

… There was also the fact that Sicarius was not disagreeing with the lieutenant's assessment.

Sicarius had, in fact, gone an interesting shade of red and was scowling at the floor, even as he continued to try and drag Titus away from you "I… That's… That's completely - how dare you… I… Might have… Inappropriate… Feelings… for you, yes. But I have the self-control not to act on them."

Titus snorted, before breaking out into wry laughter "That's not true! You try to occupy as much of her attention as you can! You sulk when she pays attention to our brothers more than you, and you get really grumpy when she and I spend time together without you."

"Considering the last time I found the two of you alone together, you had your tongue down her throat, my concerns about you two spending extended periods of time together is entirely founded. And…" Sicarius hesitated, looking at you with a hard, complicated look on his face "I… May have… More intense feelings for you than… I know what to deal with. You are beautiful and lovely and soft and intelligent and maddening! I want to see you smile, I want to hear you laugh. I want to be the reason why you are happy. I want you to smile at me the way you smile at Titus. I want… I want to hold you close, hear you murmur. Get lost in your sweet scent. Feel your heartbeat against mine. When those fools rushed at you I was… For a moment I worried that they would take you away. Hurt you and send you to a place where I could not follow for long centuries and that terrified me." Sicarius admitted, breaking down as he slumped forward in Titus' hold, tears starting to form in his dark eyes. "So I was vicious and merciless to the fools who thought you take you from me. You have stolen my hearts from me, and I… I find myself… Not… Minding this. I am… Well aware of your…" He swallows hard, looking between yourself and Titus "I know about you and Titus being close and I am jealous that he has… That he can… That you allow him to…" He growls wordlessly, burying his face in his hands, taking in deep, ragged breaths, clearly trying to calm down.

Titus' hold on his captain gentles a little, less restraining and more reassuring. "Captain… You are… Really bad at processing your own feelings."

"Shut it, Titus. I'm… I'm trying!" Sicarius hissed, giving the other marine a half-hearted glower.

You slide off the bed and onto your feet, walking up to both Astartes. Even up on your tiptoes and stretching your arms up as high as they can go, you can barely touch their faces with your fingertips. You care and love Titus very much… But you also can't deny the part of you that is very much attracted to Captain Sicari… No. To Cato, as well. You'd thought that he hated you, which made dealing with your assumed one-sided crush a little bit easier. "I care for you both, very much. I am also very much aware of the fact that directly after an attempt on my life, that doing something potentially… Rash is a bad idea. I also have negotiations to attend to in the morning. We'll need to talk more about what… What each of us might want, now that everyone's feelings are out in the open. For now, all I ask of you both is if you'd like to rest with me. Tonight has been tumultuous at best, and I know I wouldn't be able to sleep at all if I'm by myself."

"One of us needs to stand guard, at least. It's standard protocol, after an assassination attempt." Cato rumbled, shaking his head a little.

"Space marines also require far less sleep than baseline humans do." Titus added, letting go of Cato and kneeling down to be closer to your level. "Would you be content if one of us holds you while you sleep, and the other guards your door? And when it is time for the other to take his rest, we'll switch off? If you're willing to hold her close, Cato."

"That would be acceptable to me." You agree with a warm and gentle smile, glancing over at the second captain, waiting for his response.

"That… That would be acceptable to me." Cato agreed, nodding jerkily.

"Cato should hold you first. He's the one who saw actual combat tonight." Titus hummed "Besides, it's going to take me time to get out of my armor, and Cato's in civies already."

You nod, and watch Cato turn an interesting shade of red. "Sounds good to me! I have a couple of things that should more or less fit both of you, if you don't wanna sleep in what you're wearing now." You'd gotten a couple of pairs of astartes sized sleeping shirts for Titus, after you and he had steadily been close with one another. Sicarius was blushing again as he nodded, not looking at you. It was endearing how flustered he is. You pull out the two large shirts, offering them out for Cato to choose between.

Cato looks at both of the silk shirts, taking the dark blue sleeping shirt with a gruff "Thank you." before heading off to your en-suite bathroom to change. You hum softly as you pull out a set of sleep wear of your own to wear, waiting for him to be done. You wanted to wash your face of the make up you were wearing, and cleaning wipes only did so much. Cato doesn't take long in the bathroom, and steps out, his well-muscled legs on display as he walked over to your bed, settling down on it as you head over to the bathroom.

You quickly finish your nightly ablutions and find that Titus is standing watch at the door. while Cato is still laying down on your bed. You walk over to bed and slide under the covers, curling into Cato's warm, firm chest, a tired yawn leaving you as you cuddle into him, as you mumble out a tired "Thank you."

"… Thank you, my lady." He murmurs back, pressing a kiss to your hair, his large hands pulling you in close, one hand lightly coming to rest on your hip, the other lightly touching the middle of your back as you quickly fall asleep in his arms.

[redivia]

'I think it's time for bed' Ghost x Reader

Summary: Simon fell asleep on the couch after coming home from work.

Authors note: Heyy! So this is my first ever story. I never thought I would write anything let alone post it, but here we are. Also it has to be said that I don't have a beta reader so if you notice any errors or mistakes kindly point them out in the comments. English isn't my first language so I might have missed some errors. Have fun reading! <3 This is also posted on AO3 .

You were sitting on the couch together with Ghost, or how he wants you to call him, Simon. Outside you could hear the wind blowing through the leaves of various bushes and trees surrounding your joint home. Since it’s been getting colder, the wind was accompanied by some light rain. Not the kind of rain that leaves you drenched if you even think about stepping outside, but the kind that makes the nicest pitter patter noises on your roof. If you listened carefully, you could even, make out the water making its way across the roof and cascading down the rain gutters that ran along the side of your home.

Simon came home a few hours ago, seemingly pretty tired and ready to go to bed, but his face lit up and adorned a fatigued smile once he saw you. You welcomed your boyfriend home with a much-awaited hug and a gentle kiss. Together you ate dinner. During your dinner you made sure to make light conversation with him. Talking about how the weather suddenly switched up on you while you were walking home, or how there was a sale on your favourite snack at your local store and you were therefore indirectly forced to stock up again.

Dinner wasn't really anything that took tons of effort, but it was still as comforting as ever. A simple one pot pasta had to make do for tonight, but for Simon, he might as well could have been at a Michelin star restaurant. Having to rely on MRE's as his main source of calories during his time at work, has set his standards for food very low. A warm meal? With his partner? At home? He might as well be in heaven. Simon made sure to show you his gratitude in the form of cleaning up the dishes afterwards.

Which in all honesty, could have just been shoved into the dish washer and called it a day, yet he insisted on doing them by hand. Meanwhile you were sat next to him on the countertop and listened to him complaining about some new recruits that were trying to turn everything into a competition.

Being able to look at his face and watch his emotions flicker across his face while he was telling a story has always been one of your favourite aspects of your relationship. Simon swore a long time ago that he won’t be wearing his mask around the house, and you’ve been grateful that he stuck to his promise. The privilege of getting to see his face wasn’t something Simon granted to just anyone, and you are well aware of the fact. Making it even more special to you.

The story about the recruits ended in them trying to sabotage and deliberately throw other comrades off of the obstacle course. Some poor rookie had to get stiches because he fell off of the wall they were meant to jump over. But Simon witnessed how the recruit behind him gave the guy in front a not-so-gentle push, because the poor guy was moving too slowly for his taste. It goes without saying that Ghost delivered a long and proper talking to and maybe some extra rounds of running for the saboteur.

While his story came to a close, Simon had also finished the dishes. You both agreed that you only had enough energy left for a movie before deciding on heading to bed.

So that's how you found yourself and your boyfriend sat on the couch in your living room, watching whatever action movie that was currently running on the TV. You listened to Simon ramble and rant about how inaccurate basically every single aspect of the movie was. How they held the guns wrong, shooting for 5 minutes straight without reloading once, not to mention the amount of ammunition they would need to carry with them for them to be able to shoot as much as they were.

All you could do was listen to him with a small grin on your face. Only Simon would be able to pick apart some movie that was clearly produced in some warehouse in Hollywood, with a plot that never even saw the inside of a writer’s room. But of course, you supported your boyfriend in his strong opinions and joined him in his rant.

It must have been about an hour into the movie when you noticed Simon had stopped talking to you. You risked a small glance over at him and saw he was properly passed out. The stress of the day at work must have finally caught up to him. Taking the liberty, you turned down the volume of the TV just a couple of notches, making it so that the movie was now just background noise.

When you were designing the living room you deliberately chose a three-seater couch, ensuring that there would always be enough space for you and Simon to stretch out without hogging the space from the other. Leaning into his side of the couch, your boyfriends arms sat limply at his sides, his right hand placed on your thigh just above your knee.

Normally he would be stroking his thumb gently from side to side as a reminder that he was still there. Honestly you should have noticed that he was asleep once his ministrations ceased. You took a moment to admire how is face changed depending on whatever light flickered across the screen in front of the both of you. In your opinion, he looked the nicest in a subtle orangish tone, the warm light bringing out his faint freckles and blond lashes. Although the universe refused to grace you with your all-time favourite feature of his, his eyes. You would have to make do with Simon’s for once peaceful expression.

Peaceful, but not relaxed, you noticed. There was still a light crease between his eyebrows, even while sleeping he still seemed stressed. Thinking of possibilities to diminish his stress, you gently picked up the hand that was previously placed on your thigh, without waking him up. Simon’s large and warm hand lay limply in yours, and you started to gently massage his hand.

Running your fingers across his knuckles and the back of his hand. Making sure to appreciate every single small cut and faded scar along the way. You carefully turned his hand palm side up and started to massage the palm of his hand with both of your thumbs. The rest of your fingers were supporting what was now the underside of his hand. Your thumbs dug into the muscles of his palm running across all of the folds and creases, before moving to his fingers.

Feeling his fingerprints underneath your fingertips made it feel like he was your missing puzzle piece you have been searching for all your life. Two separate people coming together to make a whole. You couldn’t stop the smile that was now plastered on your face.

Glancing back at Simon, his eyebrows seemed to have relaxed a bit, but not enough for your liking. You had to take drastic action. You lifted your dominant hand to his face you stroked your thumb across the space between his eyebrows in hopes of completely erasing his frown. Your mission was a success, he stopped frowning.

However, he was now blearily blinking awake. The universe obviously had chosen to show mercy today and decided to grace you with his dreamy eyes once again. Your hand slid a bit lower, now resting on his cheek, your thumb still lazily stroking the side of his face.

With a small smile you told him: 'I think it’s time for bed'.

[millydrawsthis]

Dream couldn’t shake the knot of anxiety in his chest when Freed mentioned that Perseverance wanted to speak with him directly. There was always tension between him and Perseverance—a heavy, unspoken hatred that laced their every interaction. Perseverance didn’t just criticize Dream; he scrutinized him, picking apart every choice, every flaw, as though Dream’s very existence was an affront. It was exhausting. Worse, Dream had started to notice Freed growing more hesitant around him lately, as though Perseverance’s harsh words were beginning to seep into Freed’s perception of him. It stung more than Dream cared to admit.

Still, when Freed asked, Dream couldn’t say no. Freed wouldn’t let Perseverance hurt him… right?

The agreed-upon location caught Dream off guard—a surface AU, a beach of all places. He waited and waited for a good while. He told himself it was just Perseverance being dramatic—making him wait to prove a point, or something equally petty. Maybe this some kind of setup— they just wanted to mess with him, to get him to show up and stew in his own anxiety for their amusement. 

“Dream.”

Dream froze, shoulders tensing instinctively. The voice didn’t exactly sound like Freed’s but but sometimes when another soul is controlling them they have their own tone of voice. But as Dream turned, his breath caught in his throat.

It wasn’t Freed.

Standing there was a kid.

Dream blinked, his mind racing to catch up. The child couldn’t have been older than fourteen, maybe fifteen at a stretch. Their clothes were baggy, a huge purple cloak that covered almost their entire body—entirely out of place of this AU. Their stillness was what unnerved Dream most. It wasn’t the kind of hesitation or wariness he’d expect from a kid meeting a stranger. It was deliberate, calculating, like they already knew every move he was going to make.

Their face was obscured by tinted glasses that reflected the sunlight, making it impossible to read their expression. Something about the way the lenses glimmered—almost transparent but not quite—made his skin crawl. Maybe it was just the sun playing tricks on him, but there was a faint shimmer to the kid too, as though they didn’t fully belong to the world they stood in.

Dream’s hand twitched toward his bow instinctively, but he stopped himself. It’s just a kid, he thought. No threat. 

“…Who are you?” Dream asked, his voice steady despite the nervous flutter in his chest.

The kid tilted their head, just slightly. The motion wasn’t curious—it was antagonizing, like they were dissecting him with their gaze despite the glasses obscuring their eyes. “You don’t recognize me?”

Dream’s brow furrowed, a flicker of confusion crossing his face. There was something familiar about them, something he couldn’t quite pin down. The way they held themselves, the tone of their voice—it tugged at a memory just out of reach.

“I—” he started, but the kid interrupted him with a faint scoff.

“You’re just as useless as ever,” they said flatly, their words landing like a slap. “I can’t even have a decent conversation with you. And reaching for your bow too? Disgraceful.”

Dream froze. The way they spoke—it was unnervingly proper, almost detached, like every syllable had been carefully chosen. It reminded him of his brother in a way.

And then it hit him, a cold realization washing over him like a wave.

“Perseverance?” he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper.

The kid didn’t answer immediately, but the slight curl of their lips was confirmation enough.

“Don’t act foolish, Dream. You’ve spoken to me before, haven’t you?” Perseverance raised a brow, before pushing up his glasses. 

Dream’s frown deepened as he crossed his arms. “Yeah, but that was when you were in control of Freed’s body.” he said, his words laced with uncertainty. This—whatever this was—wasn’t something he had prepared for.

Perseverance didn’t miss a beat, their expression calm but faintly amused. “Well, I’m here now.”

“I—how?” Dream stammered, the words tumbling out before he could stop them.

“I always wondered that too,” Perseverance said lightly, brushing invisible dust off their cloak with a flick of their hand. “Being dead isn’t exactly straightforward, but I suppose there are... perks.” 

Dream opened his mouth to respond, but the words froze in his throat as something caught his eye. A detail so glaringly obvious it felt impossible he’d missed it before. Perseverance didn’t have legs.

Their body faded into an eerie, ghostly mist just below the hem of their oversized cloak. Wisps of fog drifted lazily in the air, curling and twisting in a way that seemed almost alive. Dream’s stomach twisted as he realized he hadn’t noticed it earlier. How had he been so blind? He swore he had better spatial awareness than this.

Perseverance caught the flicker of realization on Dream’s face and chuckled softly. “Ah, there it is,” He said, tilting his head with that same unnerving calm. “Took you long enough to notice. I was starting to think you’d gone completely dense.”

“I see.” Dream stepped back, though the sand beneath his boots didn’t feel nearly as solid as it had moments ago. 

“I cannot believe the so-called guardian of positivity is afraid of some ghost.”

Dream clenched his fists at his sides. He couldn’t let them get under his skin. Not again. “…What do you need, Pers?” His voice was steady this time, and he straightened his posture, forcing himself to stand tall. He should’ve been doing that all along. He was better than this.

Perseverance’s lips curled into a faint smirk, their arms crossing lazily over their chest. “Goodness, someone’s getting aggressive.” They tilted their head, looking him over with an air of judgement. “I simply wish to speak with you.”

“Let me guess,” Dream said, rolling his eyes. “So you can criticize me?”

Perseverance shrugged. “In a way.”

That was enough for Dream. He scoffed, turning sharply on his heel and walking toward the shoreline. There was no point in sticking around to let Perseverance tear him apart, not when they clearly relished every second of it.

“But—”

The word stopped him in his tracks. Perseverance’s tone shifted, softer but no less calculated, and Dream couldn’t help but glance back over his shoulder.

“But what?” Dream asked, his voice laced with irritation, though his curiosity betrayed him.

Perseverance tilted their head again, their ghostly form faintly shimmering in the sunlight. “I’d like to ask you some questions,” he said smoothly. “As flawed and broken as you are—”

Dream bristled at that, but Perseverance pressed on without missing a beat.

“—you’re not the only flawed person among the guardians. There must be something decent about you. Something worth understanding.” They paused, their glasses glinting ominously. “I’d like to know what that is.”

Dream blinked, caught entirely off guard. He opened his mouth to respond but found himself at a loss for words.

“Wait,” Dream said finally, his voice quieter this time. “You… want to know something decent about me?”

Perseverance just glanced away as a response.

Dream stared at them for a long moment, his mind racing. For all their sharp words and mocking tone, Perseverance wasn’t joking. They genuinely wanted to hear his answer.

If perseverance didnt wear glasses, Dream WOULDVE been able to tell that perseverance was scanning Dream’s facial expressions. BUT Dream did notice the sudden fidgeting Perseverance did. It wasn’t new. He’d seen it before, just not often, and especially not when Perseverance was talking to him.

“Or not,” Perseverance said suddenly, his tone as cold and dismissive as ever. “It simply does not matter to me.”

“No..”

Perseverance straightened up slightly, their fidgeting stopping as their hands fell to their sides. 

Dream took a breath, letting a small, tentative smile tug at his lips. “I’ll answer your questions.”

For the first time, Perseverance looked genuinely taken aback, though they recovered quickly. They let out an exaggerated exhale through their nose, a sound that was almost obnoxious. Dream didn’t exactly see it, but he felt it—something subtle, something that wasn’t disdain or judgment.

It was positivity.

It was weird. And new.

Dream sat down in the sand, patting a spot next to him. He kinda cringed when perseverance gave him a judgmental look but he was surprised when he sat down anyway. 

Perseverance adjusted their cloak with a faint huff, brushing sand off the edges. “This had better be worth my time.” they muttered, though there was an odd softness in their voice.

Dream chuckled quietly, more to himself than anything. “No pressure or anything, right?”

Perseverance didn’t respond immediately, but Dream thought he caught the smallest twitch of a smile on his lips.