#why do they even exist in the first place

[thoughtscout]

I agree that I am indeed concerned about skepticism surrounding the nature of someone else's sex, on the grounds that natural variations in biology can create factors that might make a woman appear more "masculine" in the eyes of society - and these traits are greatly stigmatized for the women who have them. height, greater amounts of body hair, breadth and muscle mass are all things that are targeted as being "unattractive" and "un-womanly" on account of them being stereotypically "un-feminine".

but isn't it interesting how the trans movement feels the need to constantly hide behind womens' natural biological variance, or even just gender nonconforming women, as if their existence only exists to protect the identities of males who identify as women? I've noticed that these days, people rarely seem interested in defending the existence of body-variant and GNC women, unless it's to prop up the fact that people who were born male are inevitably going to display some identifiably "masculine" bodily traits, even post-transition. we've hardly even worked on destigmatizing the existence of these "un-feminine" women, who are still widely looked down upon by most of society, and yet they are being used as a somehow "positive" voice for the trans community. why is that?

furthermore, isn't it also misogyny to imagine that there is a list of things a male can do to their body in order to make it irrefutably a "woman"'s body? things like growing long hair, wearing makeup, shaving body hair, taking estrogen to attempt to feminize features and develop larger breasts - all of these are marketed by the trans community as forms of "gender-affirming care." how exactly do these things "affirm" a sense of woman-hood, if a woman could just as well have short hair, wear no makeup, never shave, and have a "masculine" appearing body with a small chest?

I think something tremendously important to keep in mind is that you should absolutely be hearing alarm bells in your head if women (especially feminists) are being accused of harbouring and exercising somehow more misogyny than their trans movement counterparts. it's classic victim-blaming, a political silencing strategy that has been used since the first wave.

hence, I care little for 'transvestigators' who are men or position themselves on the conservative end of the political spectrum. their opinions don't greatly concern me. if I saw a woman questioning someone's unclear sex from a place of self-interest and/or a feminist perspective on the other hand, I would naturally want to advise her some amount of caution to prevent from jumping to conclusion. however, I think it does a great and frankly insulting deal of disservice to our assumptions of womens' intelligence to imply that she would be completely incapable of identifying someone else's sex based on visual cues.

it is honestly a little bit frightful that one of the default defensive positions trans activists tend to take is along the lines of "well, you can never really know what sex that person is," as if we're trying to just... essentially gaslight women into not being able to believe their own eyes, and what their own senses & knowledge are telling them. interpreting someone's sex based on visual, physical clues is completely natural, and is a normal and intentional part of human psychology. if a woman is in a vulnerable situation, or simply wants to set a boundary that keeps her within the presence of her own sex, she is entitled to do that.

the fact that there isn't a 100%, 10 times out of 10 reliable way to identify every single person's sex, doesn't mean that women shouldn't be allowed to know the sex of a person when it's important to her, or that sex is a completely neutral factor of someone's body that should be treated as completely irrelevant in every single setting and situation. maybe there are places in society where it should be more neutral, but certainly not everywhere, and we're a long way off from things being good, safe and equal enough where someone's sex doesn't matter whatsoever.

It’s wild to me to see transvestigator conspiracy theories online that could be so easily explained by natural human variation. That woman has a deep voice? Yeah, sometimes they do. A woman has broad shoulders?? Maybe she plays rugby or hits the gym a fuckton. There’s a “bulge” in her tight pants?? Maybe her vulva is just fat. All the “markers” of trans woman that transvestigators use to harass any woman aren’t even things unique to trans women.

[seospicybin]

THE BABYSITTER.

FINAL PART.

Hyunjin x reader x Felix. (s,f,a)

Chapters: Part I / Part II

Synopsis: You find a home away from home while caring for Aster, the lively son of Felix and Hyunjin and what begins as a temporary job blossoms into an unforgettable bond with a family that changes your life. But after graduation comes a difficult choice: pursue your dreams or stay with the people who’ve come to mean the world to you. (21,3k words)

Author's note: Apologize for the slight delay but here it is. Hope you enjoy it and don't hesitate to share your thoughts after reading it ♡

The living room is quiet now, except for the faint hum of the baby monitor perched on the coffee table. Aster fell asleep hours ago, his soft, even breaths a comforting rhythm you’ve grown used to hearing over the past year. You sit on the couch, knees tucked to your chest, staring out the window at the city lights twinkling in the distance. 

The weight of your decision hangs in the air like a storm cloud, refusing to dissipate. 

This place has become more than just a job. It’s a home away from home, filled with laughter, warmth, and love. Hyunjin and Felix have never treated you like an employee—they’ve made you feel like family, like you truly belong. And Aster… Aster stole your heart from the very first moment he wrapped his tiny hand around your finger. 

A faint smile tugs at your lips as you remember that moment. Aster’s first steps had been toward you, wobbling on chubby legs before falling into your arms. Hyunjin had caught it on video, and Felix’s cheers echoed in the background. The way they’d thanked you that night had left you speechless, their gratitude so genuine and overwhelming. 

Now, your degree hangs on the wall in your tiny apartment, a constant reminder of the future waiting for you. A full-time position at a company you worked so hard to impress—a chance to finally step into the life you’ve been working toward. 

So why does leaving this family feel like the hardest thing you’ve ever had to do? 

Your phone buzzes on the cushion beside you, pulling you from your thoughts. It’s a text from Felix: 

"Thank you for today. Aster adores you so much he sleep talk about you in his sleep. Sleep well!"

Your chest tightens as you read the message. It’s such a simple sentiment, but it carries so much weight. Will they send messages like this after you leave? Will Aster even remember you in a few months? 

You set the phone down and exhale slowly. Tomorrow is another day, another chance to savor these moments before you have to say goodbye. 

-

The restaurant is warm and bustling, with the hum of conversation filling the air. Felix watches Aster in his high chair, the toddler happily munching on tiny pieces of fruit while Hyunjin sips his coffee. They’ve always enjoyed these little outings—moments where they can just exist as a family, away from schedules and responsibilities. 

Felix reaches across the table to steal a fry from Hyunjin’s plate, grinning when Hyunjin playfully swats his hand away. Their quiet moment is interrupted by a cheerful voice. 

“Hyunjin! Oh my gosh, I thought that was you!” 

Felix looks up to see a woman approaching their table, her smile wide as she stops beside Hyunjin. Hyunjin’s face lights up with recognition. 

“Hey! It’s been a while,” he says warmly, standing to greet her. 

Felix immediately takes note of how she leans in, her body language overly friendly, her hand brushing Hyunjin’s arm as they exchange pleasantries. Felix sits a little straighter, glancing at Aster, who’s obliviously chewing on a cracker. 

Hyunjin gestures toward the table. “This is my husband, Felix, and our son, Aster.” 

The woman’s smile flickers briefly in Felix’s direction. “Oh, nice to meet you,” she says, her tone polite but lacking warmth. Her attention snaps back to Hyunjin almost immediately. “I had no idea you had a family now! That’s amazing. So, what have you been up to?” 

Felix bites back a sigh as she dives into conversation with Hyunjin, asking about work and reminiscing about projects they’d worked on together. Her hand lands on Hyunjin’s shoulder at one point, and Felix watches as she lightly massages it while laughing at something Hyunjin says. 

The knot in Felix’s chest tightens. 

As the conversation continues, Felix clears his throat. “Who’s your friend, Hyunjin?” His tone is calm, but there’s a sharp edge beneath the surface. 

Hyunjin glances at him, sensing the underlying tension. “Oh, sorry! Felix, this is Soojin. We used to work together back when I was at the agency. Soojin, this is my husband, Felix.” He emphasizes the word husband a little more this time. 

Soojin barely acknowledges Felix, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “Hyunjin was always the best at the agency,” she gushes, completely ignoring Felix’s presence. 

Felix’s jaw tightens as he looks down at his plate, his appetite fading. 

Aster suddenly reaches for Hyunjin, babbling for attention. Hyunjin smiles, picking him up from the high chair and placing him on his lap. “Looks like someone’s done with lunch,” Hyunjin says cheerfully. He glances at Soojin. “It was nice catching up, but I think we’re going to head out now. Take care, Soojin.” 

She seems surprised by the abrupt end to the conversation but quickly recovers, flashing him another bright smile. “Of course! Let’s catch up again soon!” 

Felix doesn’t say a word as they leave the restaurant, but the car ride home is heavy with unspoken tension. 

- 

The car ride home is quiet. Aster has fallen asleep in the car seat, his soft snores filling the silence. Hyunjin glances at Felix, who stares out the window, his expression unreadable.  Hyunjin doesn’t need to ask what’s wrong. He knows. 

After they get home and tuck Aster into his crib, Hyunjin finds Felix in the kitchen. He’s rinsing off dishes, his movements more methodical than usual. 

Hyunjin steps up behind him, wrapping his arms around Felix’s waist and resting his chin on his shoulder. Felix stiffens slightly under his touch. 

“Felix,” Hyunjin murmurs, his voice teasing. “You’re mad.” 

“I’m not mad,” Felix says curtly, but the tightness in his voice gives him away. 

Hyunjin tightens his hold, pressing a soft kiss to Felix’s neck. “You’re jealous. It’s cute.” 

Felix scoffs, trying to pull away, but Hyunjin refuses to let him go. “Don’t do that,” Felix mutters. 

“Don’t do what?” Hyunjin asks innocently, trailing kisses along Felix’s jawline. 

Felix exhales sharply, clearly trying to stay annoyed, but Hyunjin knows him too well. “She touched you,” Felix finally admits, his voice quieter now. 

Hyunjin turns Felix around to face him, cupping his cheeks in his hands. “But we're married and you're my beautiful husband. You know that, right?” 

Felix doesn’t answer, his lips pressed into a stubborn line. Hyunjin leans in, kissing him softly, and Felix’s resolve starts to crumble. 

“And I love you,” Hyunjin seductively whispers against his lips, pulling him closer. 

Felix sighs, finally wrapping his arms around Hyunjin’s neck. “You’re annoying,” he mumbles, but his lips curve into a smile as Hyunjin kisses him again, deeper this time. 

Hyunjin pulls back slightly, his eyes gleaming with amusement as he looks at him. “You should’ve seen yourself earlier. Your pout, the way you kept glaring—it was adorable.”

Felix narrows his eyes at him, his cheeks flushing. “Don’t push it.”

Hyunjin laughs, resting his forehead against Felix’s. “What? I mean it. You were so cute I almost wanted to make her stay longer just to see you pout more.”

Felix smacks his chest lightly, though his lips twitch with the beginnings of a smile. “You’re impossible.”

“And you love me for it,” Hyunjin says, grinning as he swoops in for another kiss. Felix finally gives in, melting against him, and Hyunjin feels a spark of triumph.

Hyunjin rests his forehead against Felix’s, a tender smile gracing his lips and then presses a soft, lingering kiss that melts all of Felix’s doubts away. For a moment, the rest of the world fades, leaving only the two of them in their shared space.

Five years of marriage and those are the best five years of Hyunjin’s life. He doesn’t care who he runs into or who tries to catch his attention. Nothing compares to what they have built together. Felix and his son, Aster are everything to him. They're his world.

-

The front door creaks open, and you step into the warm familiarity of Hyunjin and Felix’s home. Normally, your weekends are free now that you’ve graduated, but tonight’s an exception. Hyunjin had called you earlier in the week, his voice a mix of charm and desperation, asking if you could watch Aster while they attended a party. 

“It’s not like we get out much these days,” he’d joked, and of course, you couldn’t say no. 

As you set your bag down near the entryway, you hear muffled voices and the faint sound of laughter coming from the kitchen. You make your way toward it, expecting to find Hyunjin or Felix prepping Aster’s dinner—or maybe tidying up the chaos their energetic toddler tends to leave in his wake. 

What you don’t expect is to walk in on Hyunjin and Felix locked in a heated kiss, Hyunjin’s arms wrapped tightly around Felix’s waist, and Felix leaning into him as if he’s finally given up on staying mad. 

“Whoa!” you exclaim, holding up your hands in mock surrender. “Should I come back in half an hour?” 

Hyunjin pulls back slightly, his lips still dangerously close to Felix’s, and grins. “We can make it twenty minutes if you’re in a rush.” 

“Hyunjin!” Felix hisses, his face turning bright red as he tries to step away, but Hyunjin refuses to let him go. 

You laugh, crossing your arms as you lean against the doorframe. “Don’t let me interrupt. I’m just here for Aster, not the drama.” 

Felix finally wiggles free, shooting Hyunjin a glare that lacks any real heat. “Aster is napping,” Felix says quickly, smoothing down his shirt as if that’ll erase what you just walked in on. 

“Well, I'll just... go check on him,” you say, still chuckling as you make your way upstairs.

Behind you, you hear Hyunjin teasing Felix in a low voice. “You’re blushing. It’s adorable.” 

“Shut up, Hyunjin.” 

The soft, familiar sound of their banter follows you up the stairs, and you can’t help but smile. They’re a reminder of what a strong, loving partnership looks like—a dynamic that makes their home feel like a haven. 

Before you turn towards Aster’s room, you can’t help but glance back toward the kitchen, hearing Felix’s deep laughter echo faintly. The warmth of their family tugs at something deep inside you, making the decision you’ve been wrestling with feel even heavier. 

-

The sound of soft giggles and playful chatter echoes down the hallway as Hyunjin walking down the stairs while carrying Aster in his arms and Felix is trailing behind them, fixing the collar of his shirt.

From the kitchen, you glance over, a small smile tugging at your lips. Dinner for Aster is nearly ready as Felix has cooked it and all you have to do is reheating it in the oven. After setting the time on the oven, you wipe your hands on a towel as you make your way toward the front door.

Hyunjin and Felix are both kneeling in front of Aster, their expressions soft and adoring as they take turns pressing kisses to his cheeks. Mandu appears from behind you, not wanting to miss out on it.

“Are you sure you two are going to the party and not just staying here to kiss your son all night?” you tease, crossing your arms. 

Felix looks up at you with a playful smile. “We’d probably have more fun here, honestly.” 

Hyunjin grins, standing up after giving Mandu a quick pet and brushes his pants. “But we already RSVP’d, and Felix spent an hour convincing me to dress up, so…” 

Felix rolls his eyes then reaches for Hyunjin’s jacket to adjust it. “Oh, please. You looked for an excuse to try on five outfits before deciding.” 

You laugh, picking up Aster, who reaches for you with a delighted squeal. “Just go and have fun, you two. You deserve a night out.” 

Felix steps closer, his eyes softening. “Thank you for this, Bubba.” 

“No problem,” you say, balancing Aster on your hip. “We’ve got a big night planned, don’t we, Aster? Dinner, storytime, and maybe a movie if he doesn’t fall asleep halfway through it.” 

“Movie!” Aster cheers, clapping his hands. 

Hyunjin chuckles, ruffling his son’s hair. “Alright. You listen to Bubba, okay? Be good.” 

“Mmhmm,” Aster promises with an eager nod. 

The four of you move to the front door, where Hyunjin and Felix slip on their coats. Felix leans in one last time to kiss Aster’s forehead, his voice tender as he murmurs, “Goodnight, sweet baby. Dada will be back soon.” 

Hyunjin, standing by the door, gives you a pointed look. “Text us if anything happens, okay? We’ll keep our phones on.” 

You wave him off with a smile and assure him. “Relax, Hyunjin. We’ll be fine.” 

As Hyunjin opens the door, Felix turns to you with a small smile and gives you a last warning. “Don’t stay up late, you two!” 

You exchange a playful look with Aster and grin. “Just go. The party’s not going to wait forever.” You say, playfully hurrying them out of the door.

Hyunjin gives Aster one last wave before stepping out, Felix following close behind. As they make their way down the driveway, you and Aster stand in the doorway, waving until they disappear into the night. 

“Buhbye!” Aster calls, his tiny hand flapping enthusiastically. “Bye! Have fun!” you add, watching until the tail lights of their car fade away. 

As the quiet of the evening settles in, you close the door, turning back to the kitchen with Aster still on your hip. “Alright, monster Aster. Let’s finish getting your dinner ready.” 

Aster claps his hands again in excitement. “Dinner!” 

-

The living room is cozy, lit only by the glow of the TV screen. Aster is nestled beside you on the couch, his small frame tucked under a blanket as his eyes stay glued to the animated animals dancing across the screen. He’s holding his favorite plush bunny close, his fingers absently stroking its worn ears.

You glance at him, your heart warming at how engrossed he looks, his little mouth hanging open slightly in concentration. “You like the movie, Aster?” 

“Mmhmm,” he hums, nodding without taking his eyes off the screen. 

You smile, leaning back against the couch. Nights like this make everything feel simple, even if your thoughts keep drifting to the future—to the choices you’re avoiding making. 

As the movie continues, you notice Aster’s head starting to droop. His blinks grow slower, his grip on the bunny loosening. By the time the characters on screen are singing their big finale, his head is lolling onto your arm, his eyes barely open. 

“Sleepy, huh?” you whisper, gently sliding your arm under him to scoop him up. “Alright, then. Time for bed.” 

Aster stirs slightly but doesn’t protest, his head resting on your shoulder as you carry him to his room. The soft hum of the baby monitor sits on the bedside table, the glow of its light illuminating the room. You lower him onto his small bed, carefully tucking the blanket around him. 

As you smooth the hair from his forehead, you murmur, “Goodnight, Aster. I love you.” 

Aster’s eyes flutter open briefly, his sleepy voice piping up. “Thank you.” 

You laugh softly, crouching down beside him while continue gently brushing his hair. “That’s sweet, but when someone says ‘I love you,’ you’re supposed to say ‘I love you’ back.” 

He looks at you with his big, tired eyes, clearly not understanding. “Thank you,” he says again, his voice barely audible. 

You shake your head fondly and hold your chuckles in, brushing a hand through his soft curls, then hold it there. “You’re so special, you know that? You’re so, so special to me, Aster. I hope you always know that.” 

He yawns, turning his face into the pillow, clutching his bunny tighter. He obviously is too sleepy to respond to you.

Leaning down, you press a gentle kiss to his forehead and then mutter, “Goodnight, sweet Aster.” 

You straighten up, watching him for a moment longer as his breathing evens out. Aster is already fast asleep, the innocence of childhood reflected in the peacefulness of his expression. 

As you quietly step out of the room, you pause at the doorway to glance back. Something about the scene makes your chest ache—a bittersweet kind of warmth you don’t want to let go of.

After a while, you close the door softly behind you, the weight of your looming decision settling over you once again. 

- 

The house is quiet, save for the soft hum of the refrigerator and the occasional creak of the wooden floor beneath your feet. You glance at the clock on the wall, realizing it’s still a while before Hyunjin and Felix are expected home. 

The peacefulness of the evening settles around you, but your thoughts are restless. Trying to distract yourself, you find your eyes wandering toward the small drawer in the living room. You know what’s inside—it’s something you’ve peeked at a few times before, something that always brings a smile to your face. 

With a gentle tug, you slide the drawer open and pull out the family photo album, its worn cover a testament to the love poured into it. Felix is meticulous when it comes to documenting memories, and the album is proof of that. 

You settle onto the couch, flipping open the cover. The first pages hold moments from before Aster was born: candid pictures of Hyunjin and Felix in their early dating days, a snapshot of Felix laughing with a coffee cup in hand while Hyunjin sneaks a kiss on his cheek, and another of them on a trip abroad, their faces glowing with happiness. 

The pages gradually transition into their married life—a photo of their small wedding ceremony, Felix holding Hyunjin’s hand with an expression of quiet joy. Then come the pictures of Aster: his first moments, his first steps, his first birthday. 

You smile softly, flipping through the familiar pages. It’s a scrapbook of love, warmth, and growth. But as you near the end, you notice something new—pictures you don’t remember being there before. 

The first one catches your eye immediately. It’s from Aster’s birthday last month, a candid shot of you sitting on the floor with Aster on your lap. He’s laughing, frosting smeared across his face, while you’re mid-laugh, trying to wipe his cheek with a napkin. You feel your chest tighten at the sight. 

The next picture stops you entirely. It’s the four of you, taken on your graduation day. Hyunjin is holding Aster in one arm while Felix has his arm slung over your shoulder. You’re all smiling at the camera, the happiness in the moment radiating from the photo. 

Your fingers brush over the image, a bittersweet ache settling in your chest. You’ve always known that Hyunjin and Felix treated you like family, but seeing it immortalized like this—captured and preserved in the same album as their most cherished memories—it feels overwhelming. 

You lean back into the couch, the album resting on your lap. The joy of being part of this family and the sadness of knowing you’ll soon have to leave coexist in a way that makes your heart ache. 

A small smile plays on your lips as you close the album and carefully return it to the drawer. You’ve always known that this place—these people—meant so much to you. But seeing these pictures is a reminder of just how deeply you’ve become intertwined with their lives, and how hard it will be to say goodbye. 

-

The soft click of the front door opening pulls your attention from the quiet hum of the living room. You turn your head to see Hyunjin and Felix step inside, Felix slipping off his shoes with practiced ease while Hyunjin gently shrugs off his coat. 

“Hey,” you softly greet, standing up from the couch. “How was the party?” 

Felix smiles, looking a little tired but content. “It was nice. Good food, good company. But I think we both missed Aster more than anything.” 

Hyunjin chuckles as he drapes his coat over the arm of a chair and looks at you. “Felix spent half the night showing pictures of him to anyone who would look.” 

Felix rolls his eyes but doesn’t deny it. “You’re one to talk. You spent twenty minutes describing how Aster says ‘goodnight’ in his little sleepy voice.” 

“Well, your son is adorable, so I can’t blame you,” you say with a soft laugh and then pick up your phone from the coffee table. “Anyway, I should get going. Aster’s asleep, and everything’s all tidied up.” 

Hyunjin steps forward, raising a hand in protest. “It’s late. I’ll give you a ride home.” 

You sling your bag over your shoulder, shaking your head with a teasing smile. “Are you even sober enough to drive, Hyunjin? Should I be worried?” 

Hyunjin scoffs in disbelief and as he looks at you, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “Oh, you doubt me? Fine. Sobriety test. Let’s go.” 

Felix sighs, leaning against the kitchen counter with a tired smile and a glass of water in one hand. “Here we go.” 

Hyunjin dramatically stands up straight, lifting one leg and holding out his arms like he’s about to perform a circus act. “See this balance? Flawless.” 

You cross your arms, trying to stifle a laugh. “Very impressive. What’s next?” 

Hyunjin points to his nose and taps it with exaggerated precision. “Coordination? Check.” He spins in a circle, narrowly avoiding tripping over his own feet but recovering with flair. “I’m basically the gold standard of sober drivers.” 

Felix snickers from the kitchen and jokingly mutters, “You’re ridiculous.” 

“Ridiculously sober,” Hyunjin counters, turning back to you with a triumphant grin. “So, can I drive you home now?” 

You roll your eyes but can’t help laughing. “Fine, fine. You win. Goodnight, Felix.” 

Felix steps closer, giving you a warm smile. “Goodnight. Thanks you for today!” 

“No problem. He was an angel as always.” 

You step outside with Hyunjin, the cool night air brushing against your skin as you walk to the car. Once inside, the quiet hum of the engine fills the space as Hyunjin starts driving through the dimly lit streets. 

For a while, neither of you speak, the silence comfortable. Then Hyunjin clears his throat, glancing at you briefly. “So… The TV station is looking for a set designer. I think you’d be amazing at it.” 

You glance over at him, surprised. “Set designer?” 

“Yeah,” he says, keeping his eyes on the road. “It’s a good position. Stable hours, good pay. And it’s local, so you wouldn’t have to move away.” 

You chew on your lip, his words stirring the familiar ache of indecision. “That’s… really thoughtful, Hyunjin. Thank you. I’ll think about it.” 

He nods, his tone casual but his concern evident. “Just don’t rush into anything, okay? You’ve got people here who care about you.” 

You look out the window, the city lights blurring into streaks as the car moves through the streets. “I know,” you say softly. 

When the car pulls up in front of your building, you unbuckle your seatbelt and turn to him with a small smile. “Thanks for the ride, Hyunjin. And for… everything.” 

He offers a warm smile in return. “Anytime. Goodnight.” 

“Goodnight,” you say before stepping out of the car. 

As you walk toward your door, you glance back to see Hyunjin waiting until you’re safely inside. You give him a small wave, which he returns before driving off into the night. 

-

For these past couple of moments, Aster has been obsessed with tee ball and it shows. The moment breakfast is over, he drags the small set from the corner of the living room out onto the front yard. You follow him, holding his tiny bat as he hurries you to come along.

“Come on, Bubba. Let's play!”

You set the tee in place and placing the ball on top, looking at him as you say, “Okay. Show me what you’ve got.” 

Aster puffs out his chest proudly, gripping the bat with a determination that makes you smile. He takes his stance, wiggles a bit for balance, and then swings with all his might. The ball sails a few feet before rolling into the grass and Mandu eagerly chases after it.

“I hit it! Did you see?” he shouts, spinning around to face you with wide eyes. 

“I saw! That was amazing!” you cheer, clapping your hands. 

This becomes the rhythm of the morning. Aster adjusts the ball, calls for your attention, and swings, whether the bat connects or not. You cheer for every attempt, your laughter mingling with his giggles. 

“Aster, slow down or you’re going to tire yourself out,” you call after his fifth enthusiastic swing. 

“I don’t want to slow down!” he replies, his voice full of childish defiance as he sets up the ball again. 

“Hey, future MVP,” a familiar voice calls from across the street. 

You glance up to see Jeongin crossing the road, his hands stuffed into the pockets of his hoodie. He grins as he approaches, nodding toward Aster.

“Aster’s got a good arm.” 

“He’s been practicing nonstop,” you say, scooting over on the grass to make room for him to sit. 

Jeongin plops down beside you, stretching his legs out in front of him. “Good morning to you, too,” he teases. 

You softly laugh as you glance at him. “Morning, Jeongin.” 

He leans back on his hands, glancing at Aster as the little boy prepares for another swing. “So I... I wanted to see if you’d like to come to a party tomorrow night. Just a small thing with a few of my friends.” 

Before you can answer, Aster’s voice cuts through the conversation, demanding for your attention. “Bubba, watch me! Watch me!” 

You immediately turn your attention to him as he swings again, missing the ball entirely. 

“Almost! Try again,” you encourage, smiling as Aster stubbornly resets the ball. 

Jeongin chuckles, waiting for a break in Aster’s demands before continue talking. “Anyway, no pressure, but it could be fun. Food, drinks, some music. What do you think?” 

“Hold on,” you mutter as Aster calls out for you to watch again. He swings and connects this time, the ball rolling a bit farther than before. 

“Nice one, Aster!” you cheer, clapping as he does a little victory dance. 

Jeongin leans closer to your side, smirking. “You’re really good at multitasking, you know that?” 

You snort, finally turning back to him. “Okay, fine. I’ll go. Just let me know what time.” 

“Great!” He says, a triumphant grin spreading across his face. “You won’t regret it. I promise.” 

“You'd better keep your words then,” You say with a sly smile and playfully bump his shoulder with yours.

A smile rises on Jeongin’s face and the dimples sunken deep into his cheeks. He holds your gaze for a bit before looking away. “Aster, can I try?” 

Aster looks at him in confusion then lets go of the bat. “Okay.” 

Jeongin gets up from the grass as Aster walks up to you, you immediately offer him his water tumbler. The two of you watch as Jeongin takes the bat, adjusts the tee, and lines up his swing like a pro. The moment he swings, the bat misses entirely, slicing through the air. The ball doesn’t budge. 

Aster breaks into laughter, spilling some water out of his mouth. “You’re terrible!” 

“Hey, no need to be mean,” Jeongin says, pretending to be offended. He tries again, with the same result. Aster doubles over in laughter, his joy infectious. 

You can’t help but laugh along, shaking your head at Jeongin’s poor attempt. “Maybe stick to being a spectator,” you tease. 

Jeongin hands the bat back to Aster with a sheepish grin. “Fine, fine. I’ll leave it to the experts.” 

Aster beams, holding the bat like it’s a trophy. “I’m the best!” “You definitely are,” Jeongin agrees, ruffling Aster’s hair before sitting back down beside you. 

As Aster returns to his game, you glance over at Jeongin, his smile easy and warm. For a moment, you’re reminded of how nice it is to have moments like this—simple and carefree.

“I'll see you tomorrow night then,” He says while brushing the back of his jeans.

“You gave up on tee ball already?” You joke, flashing a sly smile at him.

“I don’t want to keep embarrassing myself in front of you,” He says with a shy smile and a subtle shrug, the dimples appearing again.

You smile at that and nod, “Okay. See you tomorrow night.” 

After a few more rounds of tee ball, Aster finally starts to tire. His swings lose their usual gusto, and he yawns while dragging his little bat behind him. 

“Enough for today. Let’s head inside,” you say, gathering the tee and ball. “You need a snack after all that hard work.” 

Aster nods, rubbing his eyes as he follows you back into the house. The warm aroma of something sweet greets you as you step inside, and you hear Felix humming in the kitchen. 

“Perfect timing!” Felix says, turning from the counter with a proud smile. “Key lime pie, fresh out of the oven.” 

“Pie!” Aster exclaims, suddenly re-energized. He races to the dining table and climbs into his seat, his earlier exhaustion forgotten. 

Felix laughs, slicing a piece and placing it on a plate for you. “This one’s for you. Tell me if it’s as good as last time.” 

“Better not disappoint,” you tease, accepting the plate and taking a seat beside Aster. The first bite melts in your mouth, tangy and sweet with just the right amount of tartness. 

“It’s perfect, Felix,” you say, savoring another forkful. 

Felix beams, pulling up a chair with his own slice. “Glad to hear it.” 

As Aster munches on some fruits and cheese next to you, Felix leans forward, his expression turning curious. “By the way, I saw Jeongin earlier.” 

You glance up from your pie. “Yeah. He came by while we were outside playing tee ball.” 

Felix’s eyes twinkle with amusement. “And? What did he want?” 

You take another bite, chewing thoughtfully before answering. “He invited me to a party tomorrow night. I said yes.” 

Felix’s brows lift slightly, and a playful smile tugs at his lips. “A party, huh? Jeongin doesn’t waste time, does he?” 

You laugh, shaking your head. “It’s not like that. We’re just friends. I promise.” 

Felix leans back in his chair, crossing his arms as if assessing your words. “Just friends?” 

“Just friends,” you assure him, setting down your fork. “I decided it’s best that way since I'll be leaving soon. No point in starting something I can’t commit to.” 

Felix studies you for a moment, then nods, his expression softening. “Fair enough. Jeongin’s a good kid, but still.” 

You smile, touched by his concern. “So, is it alright if I leave a little early tomorrow for the party?” 

“Of course,” Felix says, waving off the question like it’s nothing. “We’ll manage just fine. But promise me you’ll let loose a little and have fun.” 

“I will,” you reply, finishing the last bite of your pie. 

- 

Felix lies on his side, staring at the faint shadows dancing on the bedroom wall. The house is quiet now, save for the soft rustle of sheets as Hyunjin turns to face him. Felix feels Hyunjin’s arm drape over his waist, pulling him closer. 

Hyunjin places a soft kiss on his neck and with his voice low and laced with concern, he asks, “What’s on your mind?” 

Felix exhales, his gaze still fixed ahead but his hand reaches for Hyunjin’s. “I talked to her earlier. She said Jeongin invited her to a party, and she’s going.” 

“Jeongin? The neighbor across the street?” Hyunjin asks, propping himself up on one elbow. “What’s wrong with that? She deserves some fun.” 

Felix shakes his head. “It’s not the party. It’s... what she said after.” 

Hyunjin stays quiet and stares at Felix as he's waiting for him to continue. 

“She said she’s leaving soon. It just... hit me again. She’s really going,” Felix says, his voice softening as the weight of his thoughts presses down on him. “I keep thinking about how we’ll manage without her.” 

Hyunjin’s arms tighten around him, his warmth grounding Felix as he speaks. “I know. It’s hard to imagine her not being here.” 

Felix’s mind drifts to moments that made you irreplaceable: the nights you stayed late to comfort a teething Aster when Felix and Hyunjin were too exhausted to move; the mornings you showed up early with fresh coffee and a bright smile; the way you knew exactly how to calm Aster’s tantrums, even when Felix couldn’t. 

“She’s done so much for us,” Felix murmurs as he squeezes Hyunjin’s hand. “It’s not just about the babysitting. She cares about Aster, about us, like we’re her own family. How do we replace that?” 

Hyunjin runs a hand gently through Felix’s hair and places a soft kiss after. “We don’t. And we shouldn’t try to.” 

“I know,” Felix says, his voice cracking slightly. “That’s why it’s so hard to let her go. Aster’s going to notice she’s not around. He’s so attached to her.” 

Hyunjin presses a kiss to the back of Felix’s head as a way to comfort him. “We’ll get through it, together. And we’ll make sure Aster knows she still loves him, even if she’s not here every day.” 

Felix closes his eyes, swallowing hard. For a fleeting moment, he considers the possibility of asking you to stay—of offering something, anything, to keep you with them. But he knows it wouldn’t be fair. You have dreams, goals, and a life of your own waiting for you. 

“I thought about asking her to stay,” Felix admits after a long silence. “But I can’t. It’s not right to hold her back.” 

Hyunjin’s hand moves to Felix’s cheek, turning his face so their eyes meet. “You’re doing the right thing, baby. You’ve always been the one to put others before yourself. It’s one of the reasons I fell in love with you.” 

Felix manages a small smile, his heart aching even as Hyunjin’s words bring him comfort. “I just hope she knows how much she means to us. To me.” 

“She does,” Hyunjin says firmly. “There’s no way she doesn’t.” 

Felix leans into Hyunjin’s touch, letting the quiet reassurance wash over him. He doesn’t have all the answers, but with Hyunjin by his side, he feels strong enough to face what’s coming.

-

The kitchen is alive with the warm hum of activity. Felix adjusts the camera one last time, ensuring the angle perfectly captures the countertop where Aster stands on a sturdy step stool. His son’s tiny hands grip the edge of the counter as he bounces on his toes, excitement bubbling over.

“You ready, Aster?” Felix asks, his signature bright smile lighting up his face.

“I'm so excited!” Aster chirps, clapping his hands together.

You’re stationed behind the main camera, already recording, as Felix presses the timer on his phone to keep track of the video. He turns to Aster, holding up the first bowl of ingredients.

“Alright, say hi to everyone, Aster,” Felix says, his tone encouraging.

Aster waves enthusiastically at the camera. “Hi! We’re making... spaghetti meatballs!” His pronunciation of “meatballs” comes out slightly jumbled, and Felix chuckles, ruffling his hair.

“That’s right, baby,” Felix says. “Now, let’s show everyone what we need.” He glances at you briefly to check if the filming is going smoothly.

“Perfect,” you mouth at him while giving a thumbs-up.

Aster carefully picks up a small bowl of breadcrumbs, holding it high for the camera. “This is crumbs!”

Felix gently takes the bowl and sets it on the counter. “Breadcrumbs, good job, Aster. And what’s this?” He holds up an egg.

“Eggie!” Aster says proudly.

“Very good,” Felix says, his voice warm and encouraging. He turns to the camera. “We’re starting with the meatballs today. I’ve already prepped everything, so Aster just has to help me mix it all together.”

He grabs a large mixing bowl, placing it in front of Aster. Felix pours in the ground beef and hands Aster the bowl of breadcrumbs. “Okay, dump that in.”

Aster carefully tips the bowl, his little tongue poking out in concentration as he watches the breadcrumbs scatter over the meat.

Aster triumphantly claps his tiny hands. “I did it, dada!”

With a proud smile, Felix cheers him on. “Perfect! You’re a natural, Aster.”

One by one, Felix helps Aster add the egg, Parmesan cheese, minced garlic, and seasoning to the bowl. The boy’s tiny hands eagerly stir the mixture with a wooden spoon, though it’s clear the effort is a bit much for him.

“Need some help?” Felix asks, stepping in to guide Aster’s hands as they mix together. “There you go. Good job, baby!”

Aster grins up at him. “I’m doing it, Daddy!”

“You are,” Felix says, his heart swelling at the sight of his son’s joy.

You can’t help but laugh softly from behind the camera. “He’s a little chef in the making.”

Felix glances your way, catching your smile, and feels a rush of gratitude for moments like this. “He’s the best assistant I’ve ever had.”

The rest of the process is filled with Aster’s excited commentary as Felix shapes the meatballs and lines them on a baking tray. Once they’re in the oven, Felix shifts the focus to prepping the pasta, showing Aster how to carefully measure the noodles and explaining how they’ll boil them soon.

“Okay, Aster, what do we say to everyone watching at home?” Felix asks as they wrap up the video.

“Thank you for watching!” Aster says, waving at the camera again.

“And don’t forget to—” Felix prompts.

“Like and ’scribe!” Aster finishes with a giggle.

Felix scoops him up, pressing a kiss to his cheek as the camera clicks off. “That’s my baby.”

You lower the camera and grin. “This is going to be everyone’s new favorite video of you two.”

Felix chuckles, setting Aster down and watching as he runs off, already proclaiming he’s going to Hyunjin about the spaghetti meatballs.

The kitchen is finally quiet after the filming chaos, though the warm, lingering scent of baked meatballs fills the air. Felix is wiping down the counter as you approach him, still holding the camera.

“Alright, I think we're all set,” you say, carefully placing the camera on the counter. “Thanks for letting me leave early today.”

Felix looks up with a grin, his usual playful glint in his eyes. “No problem. You deserve a little fun. Just don’t forget—safe sex is key.”

You roll your eyes, groaning. “Felix, I swear—”

“Hey, it’s my duty as the responsible adult here,” he teases, raising his hands in mock surrender.

You shake your head, but there’s a hint of a smile tugging at your lips. “I’m going to pretend you didn’t just say that.”

As you turn to grab your bag, Aster bounds into the room, still brimming with energy despite the day’s excitement. “Where you going, Bubba?” he asks, looking up at you with wide eyes.

You crouch down to his level, ruffling his hair. “Sorry, Aster but Bubba has to go now, but I’ll see you soon, okay?”

Aster nods, wrapping his small arms around your neck. “Bye-bye!”

“Bye-bye, Monster Aster,” you say softly, giving him a quick hug before surprise him with a tickle on his belly.

Felix steps closer and then crosses his arms in front of him. “And no hug for me?” he asks, mock-pouting.

With a laugh, you roll your eyes again but step forward to give him a quick hug. “Happy now?”

“Ecstatic,” Felix replies, his grin widening. As you pull away, he leans in conspiratorially. “Need me to grab you some extra condoms before you go?”

You groan loudly this time, throwing your head back. “Felix!” He bursts out laughing and Aster, despite not understanding the joke, also laughing. Felix waves a hand dismissively and says, “Alright, alright, I’ll stop. But seriously, have fun, okay?”

You grab your bag and head for the door, looking back with a playful glare. “Thanks for the talk, Dad.”

Felix grins at you from the kitchen. “Don't drink and drive!”

“Yeah, yeah,” you say, stepping outside.

The door closes behind you, and Felix watches through the window as you walk down the path to the street. A faint breeze catches your hair, and you pull your bag higher on your shoulder. He doesn’t move until you’re out of sight, a bittersweet ache settling in his chest.

How many times had he watched you come and go, not thinking much of it? But now, each goodbye felt heavier, knowing soon it might be the last.

Felix takes a deep breath and turns back to the kitchen, but his movements are slower, weighed down by the thought of your absence.

“Why does it feel like we’re already saying goodbye?” he murmurs to himself, brushing a hand over the clean counter. -

The house is alive with music, laughter, and the clinking of glasses. It’s been ages since you’ve been to a party like this—too many nights spent in front of textbooks or rushing to meet deadlines. The atmosphere feels electric, the kind of energy that seeps into your veins and reminds you what it’s like to be young and carefree.

Jeongin is by your side, as he’s been all night, effortlessly charming everyone in his orbit. He’s the perfect guide through the chaos, introducing you to friends, making jokes, and ensuring your glass is never empty. He even dances with you in the living room when someone cranks up the music, spinning you around until you’re laughing so hard your stomach hurts.

“See?” Jeongin says, leaning closer so you can hear him over the music. “Told you this would be fun.”

“It is,” you admit, wiping tears of laughter from your eyes. “I think I forgot how to have fun for a while.”

“Well, lucky for you, I’m an expert at it,” he says with a grin, his eyes sparkling under the dim party lights.

You roll your eyes playfully, but the warmth in his expression makes your chest tighten just a little. You’ve told him countless times that you and he would never be more than friends, but Jeongin’s persistence is relentless tonight.

When the music slows down for a softer song, Jeongin pulls you toward the couch, where the two of you sink into the plush cushions. He drapes an arm across the backrest, his body angled toward you.

“You know,” he begins, his voice quieter now, almost drowned out by the distant chatter, “you work too hard. Someone needs to remind you to enjoy life.”

“I enjoy life just fine,” you counter, giving him a pointed look. “Do you?” His gaze flickers over you, lingering just long enough to make you feel self-conscious. “Because from where I’m sitting, it looks like you spend too much time worrying about everyone else and not enough time letting loose.”

“Jeongin…” you sigh, trying to keep your tone firm. “We’ve talked about this.”

“We have,” he agrees, nodding. “But you’re here now, and I’m just saying… what’s the harm in enjoying the moment?”

You open your mouth to reply, but before you can, he leans in a little closer. “You deserve someone who makes you feel alive,” he murmurs.

The intensity in his eyes catches you off guard, and for a moment, you forget how to breathe. You’ve been so focused on your responsibilities, your future, and your goodbyes that you hadn’t let yourself feel anything else. But now, with Jeongin so close, his words tugging at something deep inside you, the temptation becomes harder to ignore.

“Jeongin,” you whisper, unsure whether it’s meant to be a protest or an invitation.

He takes it as the latter. Before you can second-guess yourself, his lips brush against yours, tentative but insistent. For a moment, you freeze. This is wrong, isn’t it? You’ve told him before, so many times… But then your resolve melts under the warmth of his kiss, and all the weight you’ve been carrying slips away, just for a little while.

You kiss him back.

The noise of the party fades, leaving only the rush of blood in your ears and the faint hum of Jeongin’s voice when he finally pulls back, his forehead resting against yours.

“See?” he murmurs, his breath mingling with yours. “Feels good to let go, doesn’t it?”

You don’t answer, your heart racing too fast to think straight. For once, you let the moment speak for itself and kiss him again.

-

Hyunjin steps into the house, greeted by the inviting aroma of garlic and tomatoes. Dinner is already set on the table, the soft hum of Felix’s playlist playing in the background. He smiles as he walks into the kitchen, spotting Felix tidying up the counter.

Seeing Hyunjin, Mandu runs and starts circling around his feet, barking and asking to be pet. He crouches down to pick the fluffy dog in one arm and continues his walk to the kitchen.

“Hey,” Hyunjin greets, stepping closer. Felix turns around just in time to meet him, and Hyunjin leans in for a kiss.

“Dinner’s ready,” Felix says, his tone light but his smile doesn’t fully reach his eyes. Hyunjin notices, but he doesn’t press him yet.

He makes his way to the dining table, where Aster is already seated, practically face-first in his bowl of spaghetti and meatballs. The sauce is smeared across his cheeks, and Hyunjin chuckles, leaning down to press a kiss to the top of his son’s head.

“Enjoying that, bub?” Hyunjin asks.

Aster looks up, grinning with his sauce-covered face. “Uh-huh. It's yummy!”

Hyunjin takes his seat across from Felix, who brings over a glass of water for him before sitting down. The dinner feels warm and familiar, but Hyunjin can’t shake the feeling that something is off. Felix is quiet—too quiet. He keeps fidgeting, his fingers playing with the edge of the tablecloth, his gaze distant even as he smiles at Aster’s antics.

After dinner, Felix takes Aster upstairs to put him to bed while Hyunjin stays behind, tidying up and preparing drinks for the two of them. He opts for martinis tonight—Felix’s favorite—and brings them to the living room.

When Felix comes down, he looks a little more at ease, but Hyunjin knows better. “Martini for my beautiful, hardworking husband.” He announces with a rather dramatic tone.

“Thank you, love.” Felix mutters his gratitude then sits next to him on the sofa, snuggling close as he takes his martini. Hyunjin wraps an arm around him, pulling him in and giving him the comfort he needs.

For a while, they sit in comfortable silence, sipping their drinks and enjoying the quiet. But Hyunjin can feel the weight of Felix’s thoughts pressing down on him, even without words.

“You’re still thinking about her, aren’t you?” Hyunjin asks gently, breaking the silence.

Felix looks up at him, his lips pressed into a thin line. He sighs, nodding. “Yeah. I can’t stop.”

Hyunjin leans his head against Felix’s, his voice soft but steady. “What’s worrying you the most?”

Felix hesitates, his fingers tracing the rim of his glass. “Everything,” he admits. “How we’ll... How Aster will handle it. He’s so attached to her, Hyunjin. I don’t know how he’ll understand it when she’s gone.”

Hyunjin listens, his hand moving in soothing circles on Felix’s back. “I know. I’ve been thinking about it too.”

Felix leans into his touch, his voice quieter now. “I know that it's selfish, but part of me wants to ask her to stay.”

Hyunjin pulls back slightly, just enough to meet Felix’s gaze. “You know she’d do it if you asked,” he says carefully. “But would that really be fair to her?”

Felix shakes his head, a small, bitter laugh escaping him. “No. It wouldn’t.”

Hyunjin smiles softly, pressing a kiss to Felix’s temple. “Then maybe we should talk to her. All three of us. Have a dinner together, lay everything out. Let her know how much she means to us, but also let her make the choice that’s best for her.”

Felix considers this, his eyes searching Hyunjin’s for reassurance. Finally, he nods. “Okay. Let’s do that.”

Hyunjin squeezes him gently, his voice warm and reassuring. “No matter what happens, it’s going to be alright. We’ll figure it out together, like we always do.”

Felix exhales, the tension in his shoulders finally easing as he leans into Hyunjin’s embrace.

“Thank you,” he murmurs as he looks at him, his eyes filled with fondness and gratitude.

Hyunjin smiles before placing a quick peck on Felix’s lips. “Always.”

-

The moment you both stumble into Jeongin’s house, his lips are on yours again before you can even think, his hands settling firmly on your waist as he pulls you closer. The warmth of his touch and the way he kisses you—like he’s been waiting for this moment forever—sends shivers down your spine.

It’s reckless, impulsive, completely unlike you. But that’s precisely why you don’t stop him. For once, you let yourself surrender to something without overanalyzing, and the sensation is intoxicating.

Jeongin tilts his head, deepening the kiss as his fingers trace lazy, intricate patterns along your sides. In the quiet dark of his room, it’s just the two of you, lost in this heated, stolen moment.

When your gaze briefly sweeps over him, the sight steals the air from your lungs. His toned frame, his muscles perfectly defined, seem almost divine—crafted as if by the hands of the Greek gods themselves.

But it’s his hands that undo you entirely. Big, calloused, and tireless, they roam your body as if he’s committing every inch of you to memory. His lips follow close behind, leaving a searing trail of kisses that make your skin burn with desire.

“God, you’re so beautiful,” he whispers against the curve of your neck before pressing a tender kiss there, his breath warm and tantalizing.

He’s everywhere, his touch, his mouth, his very presence enveloping you. His fingers slide between your thighs, skillfully finding their way inside you. He pumps them steadily, a rhythm that makes you squirm and writhe under him.

Between kisses along your inner thighs, Jeongin murmurs words like a prayer, sweet and reverent. “So wet. So tight.” His voice is low, almost worshipful, as he continues to draw every ounce of pleasure from you.

Jeongin’s words send a rush of heat through you, and your breath comes in shallow gasps as his fingers keep working their magic. His name slips from your lips like a plea, a sound that seems to spur him on. His eyes, dark and hungry, meet yours as he leans back up, capturing your lips once more in a kiss that feels equal parts tender and desperate.

“Tell me what you need,” he murmurs against your mouth, his voice rough yet soothing, like velvet edged with steel.

Your hands find his shoulders, fingers curling against his warm skin as you pull him closer, letting your body speak where words fail. He seems to understand, shifting his weight to press himself against you, the heat and hardness of him sending another shiver down your spine.

Jeongin’s lips leave yours to travel down your neck, his kisses softer now, more deliberate as if savoring the taste of your skin. His free hand strokes your side, fingers ghosting over the curve of your hip before gripping your thigh to hitch your leg around his waist. The movement aligns your bodies perfectly, and a soft gasp escapes you at the sheer intimacy of it.

“You drive me crazy,” he breathes, his forehead resting against yours for a moment as if grounding himself. His hand cups your cheek, thumb brushing over your flushed skin as he gazes down at you with an intensity that steals your breath.

You don’t get a chance to respond before his lips claim yours again, his movements growing bolder, more insistent. Every touch, every kiss, feels like a promise, unspoken but understood, and you can’t help but surrender completely to him.

Time seems to blur, the world outside his room fading away as Jeongin focuses solely on you—on unraveling you, piece by piece, until there’s nothing left but the two of you tangled together in the heat of the moment.

His name falls from your lips again, a soft cry that has him groaning in response, his lips finding the sensitive spot just below your ear. “I’ve got you,” he murmurs, his voice low and full of conviction. “I’ll take care of you.”

The weight of his words, the sincerity in his tone, settles over you like a warm embrace, leaving you feeling utterly seen and cherished. Whatever comes next, you know you’ll let him take you there, trusting him completely in this shared moment of passion and vulnerability.

Jeongin’s gasp of surprise turns into a low groan as you take control, shifting your positions until you’re straddling him. His hands instinctively find your hips, steadying you as you begin to move against him with purpose.

His fox-like eyes are locked on you, dark and filled with an intoxicating mix of admiration and desire. The way you command the moment has him utterly captivated, his lips parting slightly as he struggles to keep his composure. “Oh, you’re incredible,” he breathes, his voice rough with need.

You smirk down at him, rolling your hips in a way that pulls a guttural moan from his lips. His grip on your hips tightens, and the tension between you coils tighter with every deliberate movement. The way he watches you—eyes tracing every inch of your body, drinking in the sight of you—sends a fresh wave of heat surging through you.

The rhythm you set drives you both closer to the edge, his hands and lips occasionally breaking their reverence to guide or encourage you further. You lean forward, pressing your palms against his chest for balance, and the shift draws a new angle that makes Jeongin lose himself completely.

“Just like that,” he rasps, his voice shaking slightly. The sight of you, the feel of you, the sound of your breathless moans—it’s all too much.

Your shared high crashes over you like a wave, leaving you trembling and breathless. Jeongin’s grip on you tightens as he rides out the moment with you, his name tumbling from your lips in a soft, desperate cry.

When the pleasure finally subsides, you collapse against him, your chest rising and falling as you try to catch your breath. He wraps his arms around you, holding you close as if afraid to let you go. His fingers trace lazy, comforting circles on your back, grounding you both in the afterglow.

For a long moment, neither of you says anything, content to stay wrapped in each other’s warmth. When Jeongin finally gathers his senses, he tilts his head to look at you, his expression softer now, curiosity flickering in his gaze.

“Wait,” he murmurs, his lips quirking into a small smile. “Are you really haven’t dated in years?”

You nod, still catching your breath, a playful smile tugging at your lips. “Why? What’s that look for?”

Jeongin chuckles, the sound low and infectious as he brushes a strand of hair from your face. “Because you’re way too good at this for someone out of practice,” he teases, his tone warm and slightly incredulous.

You laugh softly, swatting at his chest. “Guess I’ve still got it, then.”

He leans up, capturing your lips in a gentle kiss, one that’s less about passion and more about the connection you’ve just shared. “More than just ‘got it,’” he murmurs against your lips. “You’re amazing.”

But then, reality starts to creep in, breaking through the haze of pleasure and emotion. You pull back, breathless and flushed, your hands instinctively resting on his chest to create some distance.

“Jeongin,” you say softly, looking up at him.

He meets your gaze, his eyes shining with something unspoken, but you steel yourself against it.

“This…” you gesture vaguely between the two of you, “this doesn’t mean anything, okay? You can’t—don’t catch feelings from this.”

He blinks, taken aback for a moment, but then he breaks into a wry smile. “Catch feelings? You think I’m that easy?”

“I’m serious,” you insist, though his teasing tone makes it harder to stay firm. “This was just… in the moment. That’s all.”

Jeongin studies you for a second, then shrugs, leaning back with a smirk that’s too self-assured for his own good. “Fine. No feelings,” he says. “I can handle that.”

You narrow your eyes, searching his face for any hint of deception, but he just grins at you like he always does, as if this is all a game to him.

Satisfied, you let out a small breath of relief. “Good. Because the last thing I need right now is… complications.”

Jeongin raises an eyebrow but doesn’t push the matter further. Instead, he reaches out and tucks a stray strand of hair behind your ear. “You know, for someone who’s always so serious, you’re pretty fun when you let loose.”

You roll your eyes, but a small smile tugs at your lips despite yourself. “Thanks, I guess.”

“No, really,” he says, his tone softening slightly. “I’m glad you came tonight. I wanted you to remember what it’s like to just… have fun.”

You glance away, his words hitting closer to home than you expected. “Yeah,” you say quietly. “I think I needed this.”

He flashes you a triumphant grin. “Well, anytime you need someone to help you unwind, you know where to find me.”

You shake your head with a laugh, pushing him playfully. “Don’t push your luck.”

As you rise on the bed, you pause, turning to him one last time. “Thanks, Jeongin. For tonight. It reminded me of… what I’ve been missing.”

He smiles, a softer, more genuine one this time. “Anytime.”

-

It’s mid-morning, and the sunlight filters softly through the curtains as you sit cross-legged on the floor with Aster in front of you. His hair, soft and slightly wavy like Hyunjin’s, is sticking out in every direction after his post-breakfast antics.

"Alright, mister," you say, holding up the small hairbrush. "Let’s tame this wild mane of yours before we head out."

Aster grins up at you, his little legs swinging excitedly. “Okay, Bubba!”

You laugh at his cute nose scrunch, starting to brush through his hair. It’s going smoothly at first, until the brush slips from your hand and lands lightly on his head with a soft thud.

Aster’s eyes widen in surprise for a moment, but then he bursts into giggles, holding his belly as if it’s the funniest thing in the world.

“Oops!” you say, unable to help but laugh along with him. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to do that!”

“Do it again, Bubba!” he says between giggles, his hands clapping together in delight.

“Do it again?” you repeat, feigning shock. “What kind of babysitter drops a hairbrush on purpose?”

“You!” Aster declares, pointing at you with a triumphant grin and bursts into another wave of giggles.

Shaking your head with a playful sigh, you pick up the brush again and give his hair a light tap, making him giggle even more.

“You’re such a goofball,” you say, ruffling his hair.

Once his laughter dies down, you resume brushing. “So... what kind of hairstyle are we going for today?” you ask. “Something fancy? Something cool?”

Aster tilts his head thoughtfully, then his face lights up. “Like Daddy’s!” he says confidently.

“Like Daddy’s?” you echo, thinking of Hyunjin’s signature tied-back look. “Are you sure? That’s pretty fancy for someone who spends most of his time chasing after balls and dinosaurs.”

“Yes!” Aster says, his voice firm. “I want it like Daddy’s! Please!”

“Well, how can I say no to that?” you reply, smiling as you reach for the small elastic bands Felix always keeps handy.

You work carefully, gathering the soft strands of Aster’s hair into a tiny ponytail at the back of his head. It’s a little uneven, but when you’re done, Aster hops up and runs to the mirror.

“I look like Daddy!” he announces proudly, turning his head this way and that.

“You sure do,” you say, admiring your handiwork.

Aster laughs, running back to you for a hug. “Thank you, Bubba!”

“Anytime, my little guy,” you reply, squeezing him tightly.

As you gather your things to head out, you can’t help but smile at Aster’s excitement. It’s these little moments—his giggles, his endless enthusiasm, his admiration for his parents—that make your decision to leave so much harder.

-

Later at the grocery store, Aster sits happily in the trolley you’re pushing, occasionally reaching out to grab at items on the shelves. Felix walks slightly ahead of you, scanning his shopping list as he tosses a bag of flour and some sugar into the trolley.

“So...” Felix says casually, glancing back at you with a sly grin. “How was the party last night? Did you have fun?”

“It was nice,” you reply, keeping your tone light.

Felix raises an eyebrow, clearly fishing for more. “Nice, huh? That’s it? You sure you didn’t do something else after?”

You stop the trolley for a moment, narrowing your eyes at him. “Felix.”

“What?” he says, feigning innocence. “I’m just curious!”

You roll your eyes, moving the trolley forward again. “Nothing happened, okay?”

Felix smirks but doesn’t drop it. “You and Jeongin looked pretty cute together, though. I mean, the height difference alone—”

“Felix,” you interrupt, shooting him a pointed look. “For the last time, Jeongin and I are just friends. That’s it.”

Felix hums, clearly unconvinced. “Sure, sure,” he says, waving his hand dismissively. “But if you ever need advice about how to navigate the just friends thing, I’m here. I’ve got years of experience with people trying to friend-zone me.”

You laugh despite yourself, shaking your head. “You’re unbelievable, you know that?”

Felix grins, grabbing a jar of vanilla extract from the shelf and tossing it into the trolley. “I'll take that as a compliment,” he says with a wink.

You shake your head, trying not to smile as you continue down the aisle. Aster giggles from his seat in the trolley, clearly amused by the banter.

-

Felix hums softly to himself as he chops vegetables for dinner, the rhythmic sound of the knife against the cutting board blending with the cheerful melody drifting in from the living room. Your voice harmonizes with Aster’s high-pitched singing, the two of you belting out his favorite song as you build a tower of blocks together on the carpeted floor.

“Higher, Aster!” you encourage, holding up another block.

Aster giggles, his small hands carefully placing the piece at the top. “We did it, Bubba!” he exclaims, clapping his hands.

Felix pauses mid-chop, his gaze drawn to the scene unfolding in the living room. Leaning against the counter, he watches quietly, a fond smile spreading across his face. You’re crouched next to Aster, laughing with him as the tower wobbles precariously before tumbling down. Aster shrieks with delight, clapping his hands while you fall back onto the carpet in mock despair, both of you dissolving into laughter.

It’s moments like this, Felix thinks, that make it so hard to let you go. You’ve become such an integral part of their lives—someone Aster adores and someone Felix trusts implicitly.

He feels his chest tighten but shakes the feeling away, clearing his throat. “You two sound like you’re ready for a duet,” he calls out, trying to keep his tone light.

You glance up, catching Felix watching, and flash him a grin. “You’re just jealous of our vocal chemistry,” you tease.

Felix laughs, walking over to lean against the doorway between the kitchen and living room. “Guilty as charged,” he says, his gaze soft as he looks between you and Aster.

“Hey, I wanted to tell you—this weekend, Aster’s staying with his grandparents.”

You raise an eyebrow, curious. “Oh? Big plans?”

Felix nods and holds your gaze as he tells you his intention. “Hyunjin and I were thinking of having a dinner at home, and we’d love for you to join us. You know, just the three of us.”

You know what it means by that. You don't take a long time to make a decision, you nod without hesitation and say, “I’d love to.”

Felix’s chest feels a little lighter at your quick response. He claps his hands together, feigning a serious expression. “Great. And don’t worry, we won’t make you sing for your supper. Unless Aster insists.”

Aster looks up from the blocks, tilting his head. “Sing?” he asks, his eyes sparkling with excitement.

You laugh, reaching out to ruffle his hair. “Maybe next time because it's time to dance now.”

Felix watches as you help Aster getting up and together, you start dancing to Aster’s favorite cartoon song. Both of your laughter filling the room once more and despite the bittersweet weight in his heart, he can’t help but feel grateful for this moment, for you, and for the time they still have together.

-

The taxi pulls away from the curb as you adjust your dress, suddenly feeling the weight of the evening pressing on your shoulders. Felix’s house looms ahead, familiar yet daunting, its porch light casting a soft glow over the pathway. Taking a deep breath, you smooth your dress one last time and start toward the front door.

“Wow, looking fancy tonight,” a familiar voice calls out.

You glance to your left and spot Jeongin, Felix’s neighbor, leaning casually against the fence separating their yards. His smile is wide, curious, and just a little teasing.

“Hey, Jeongin,” you greet, feeling a slight blush creep up your cheeks.

“Didn’t expect to see you all dressed up like that. What’s the occasion?” he asks, his gaze flickering over your outfit as he walks closer.

“Oh,” you say, clutching your bag tighter. “Felix invited me for dinner tonight. Not babysitting this time.”

Jeongin raises an eyebrow, a spark of interest lighting his features. “Dinner, huh? Fancy. I don’t remember you looking this good when I took you to that party.”

You can’t help but laugh softly, shaking your head at his playful tone. “That’s because it wasn’t your party, Jeongin. You dragged me along as your last-minute plus-one, remember?”

He grins, clearly pleased with your response. “Fair enough. But still—if I’d known you could look this stunning, I might’ve tried harder to impress you.”

Rolling your eyes, you take a step toward the door. “Well, thanks for the compliment, but I don’t want to be late.”

Jeongin moves aside, holding his hands up in mock surrender. “Don’t let me stop you. Have a great night.”

“Thanks,” you say with a small smile before turning away.

As you walk up to the door, you can feel his gaze linger for a moment longer before he retreats to his side of the yard. The sound of his footsteps fades, leaving you standing alone under the glow of the porch light. You exhale, steadying your nerves, and ring the doorbell.

Tonight isn’t going to be just any dinner—it feels like it'll be something more.

-

Felix stands in the kitchen, carefully arranging the final touches on the dinner plates. The aroma of roasted vegetables and perfectly seared chicken fills the air as he wipes his hands on a towel. He hears the soft click of the front door opening and smiles knowingly. 

“That must be you,” he calls out, setting down the towel as he heads toward the entryway. 

You’re just hanging up your coat when Felix steps into view, his smile widening as he takes in your appearance. “Wow,” he says, his tone warm with appreciation. “You really didn’t have to dress so stunningly just to have dinner with us.” 

You laugh lightly, a hint of self-consciousness in your smile. “Well, it’s a special occasion, isn’t it? Plus, it’s nice to have an excuse to dress up.” 

Felix leads you to the dining table, pulling out a chair for you with a small flourish. As you settle in, he checks his phone and sighs softly at the message lighting up the screen. 

“It’s Hyunjin,” he explains, showing you the text. “He says he’s running late. Looks like it’s just the two of us for now.” 

“That’s okay,” you say with an easy smile. “More for us.” 

The two of you enjoy the meal, chatting about lighthearted topics as Felix takes genuine pleasure in seeing you savor the food. Once the plates are cleared, Felix glances toward the small bar cart in the corner and grins mischievously. 

“How about I teach you to make a proper martini?” he suggests, already heading toward the cart. 

“Sure, as long as I don’t poison us,” you tease, following him.  Felix sets out the ingredients and tools, carefully walking you through each step. “No, no, you’re doing great,” he says as you shakily pour vermouth into the shaker. “Now add the gin—carefully, don’t go overboard. Perfect!” 

You shake the cocktail shaker with exaggerated flair, making Felix laugh. When the drinks are poured and garnished, the two of you move to the sofa, glasses in hand. 

As you take your first sip, Felix leans back, swirling his own drink thoughtfully. “So,” he begins, his tone teasing, “how was the party with Jeongin?” 

You groan, already sensing where this is going. “Felix…” 

“What?” he asks innocently, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “I’m just curious. Did you two, you know…” He waggles his eyebrows suggestively. “Practice safe sex?” 

Your face heats as you shake your head in disbelief. “Oh my god, Felix. Can we not?” 

His grin widens as he takes another sip. “So that’s a yes.” 

You hesitate, rolling your eyes before finally admitting, “Fine. Yes. We did. Happy?” 

Felix laughs, raising his glass in mock toast. “I’m just glad you’re being responsible.” 

“It’s not a big deal,” you mutter, though a small smile plays on your lips. “It was… nice.” 

Felix’s teasing softens into something warmer. “Well, I’m glad you had fun. You deserve it.” 

You take another sip of your martini, savoring the cool, crisp flavor, when Felix hits you with a question that nearly makes you choke. “Okay, but—” he starts, leaning in with a sly grin. “Is Jeongin’s size… big?”

You freeze mid-sip, staring at him in disbelief before bursting into laughter. “Oh my god, I cannot with you!”

“What?” he says, feigning innocence as usual, though the mischievous twinkle in his eyes gives him away. He nudges you with his elbow. “Come on, tell me! Don’t leave me hanging here.”

Shaking your head, you decide to play along, if only to keep him from pestering you all night. “Fine,” you say, setting your glass down with a dramatic sigh. “Yes, Felix. Jeongin’s size is… impressive.”

Felix claps a hand over his mouth, barely containing his laughter, before leaning in again with a devilish smirk. “Okay, okay. But… is it bigger than Hyunjin’s?”

This time, you really do choke, the sip of your drink going down the wrong way as you sputter and hurriedly grab a napkin to wipe your mouth.

“Felix!” you exclaim, your voice a mix of shock and amusement. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

He’s practically cackling now, his laughter contagious as he leans back in his seat. “I mean, it’s a valid question!”

Rolling your eyes, you toss the napkin aside and shake your head at his antics. After a moment, you compose yourself and reply, “It’s not about the size, Felix. It’s about how you use it.”

Felix’s grin widens, his eyes sparkling with mischief as he raises his glass in mock toast again. “Now that,” he says, nodding approvingly, “is an answer. You’ve learned well.”

You smirk at Felix, raising your glass in mock toast again. “Well, because I learned from the best.” You shot him a flirty wink at the end of the sentence.

“Touche!” Felix exclaims, clinking his glass with you.

Then, without warning, he takes both of your drinks and sets them aside. Before you can ask what he’s doing, he leans in, capturing your lips in a kiss that’s soft and teasing at first, but quickly deepening as the two of you sink further into the sofa. His hands slide up your sides, sending a warm shiver through your body as you instinctively pull him closer. The laughter from moments before lingers between kisses, making everything feel light and intoxicating.

The sound of the front door opening pulls you back to reality, but Felix doesn’t seem to notice—or maybe he doesn’t care. His lips brush against yours one last time before he murmurs against your mouth, “Wow! You really are getting too good at this.”

“Am I interrupting something?” Hyunjin’s voice cuts through the moment, sharp with amusement and just a hint of irritation.

You pull back abruptly, cheeks flushing as you turn toward the doorway. There stands Hyunjin, arms crossed and a faux pout on his lips, his dark eyes darting between you and Felix.

Felix leans back casually, his arm still draped over the back of the sofa as he shoots Hyunjin a playful grin. “Well, look who decided to show up. Late as always.”

Hyunjin narrows his eyes, stepping closer. “And here I thought I was missed,” he says with a dramatic sigh, though there’s a slight edge to his voice. “Clearly, I was wrong.”

Felix chuckles, completely unbothered. “Oh, you were missed. But this”—he gestures vaguely between you and himself—“is what happens when you come home late.”

Hyunjin raises an eyebrow, tilting his head as if debating how to respond. Before he can say anything, Felix’s grin turns mischievous. “And for that, Hyunjin,” he says, sitting up straighter, “I think you need to be punished.”

Hyunjin’s pout deepens, though there’s a spark of intrigue in his eyes. “Punished? For what exactly?”

“For making me wait,” Felix replies smoothly, his tone playful yet firm. He pats the space on the sofa next to you. “Now come here and take your punishment like a good boy.”

You can’t help but laugh, the absurdity of the situation breaking any tension that might have lingered. Hyunjin hesitates for a moment before finally rolling his eyes and flopping down beside you with a dramatic huff.

“Fine,” he mutters, though a small smile tugs at his lips. “But this better be worth it.”

Felix leans closer, his voice dropping to a playful whisper. “Oh, trust me, it will be.”

And just like that, the night shifts into something far more interesting.

-

As the door shuts behind Hyunjin, Felix greets him like he always does, his lips brushing against Hyunjin’s in a soft yet deliberate kiss. There’s a warmth to it, a welcome home that feels natural between them. You watch as Felix, ever attentive, helps Hyunjin shrug off his suit jacket, folding it neatly over his arm before setting it aside.

Then, Felix’s demeanor shifts. With a subtle but unmistakable smirk, he steers Hyunjin toward the sofa. You raise an eyebrow, intrigued, but stay quiet as the scene unfolds.

Felix’s hands on Hyunjin’s shoulders turn firm as he pushes him with surprising force, sending Hyunjin plopping onto the sofa with a soft grunt. Despite Felix’s earlier warning about punishment, Hyunjin looks anything but concerned—his eyes sparkle with amusement, his lips twitching with a knowing smile.

Felix wastes no time. He crouches slightly, his nimble fingers working to untie Hyunjin’s tie. There’s a practiced precision in his movements, and You can’t help but wonder what exactly he’s planning. You sit at the end of the sofa, silently watching, caught between curiosity and amusement.

When the tie finally slips free, you expect Felix to toss it aside. Instead, he does something you don’t see coming—he loops the tie around Hyunjin’s wrists, expertly knotting it. Your eyes widen slightly, but Hyunjin, ever composed, remains unfazed.

“Impressive,” Hyunjin murmurs, his voice low and smooth. He flexes his hands slightly, testing the knot. “Never knew you were so good at it.”

Felix chuckles, the sound soft but laced with authority. “You haven’t seen anything yet.” He tightens the knot just enough to ensure it’s secure before lifting Hyunjin’s bound hands above his head.

“Keep them there,” Felix orders, his tone leaving no room for argument. Hyunjin obeys without hesitation, his expression one of playful obedience.

Then, Felix turns to you. His fingers curl in a beckoning motion, and you instinctively get up from your seat to walk up to him, drawn in by the intensity in his gaze. When you're close enough, he cups his hand around his mouth, his breath warm against your ear as he whispers, “Follow my lead.”

A shiver runs down your spine, though you nod without hesitation. Felix leans back, a satisfied smile tugging at his lips before his eyes flick to Hyunjin, who’s watching the two of you with a mix of amusement and anticipation.

You glance at Hyunjin, your gaze narrowing slightly in mock menace, as if hinting at something devious. His brow lifts in curiosity, though he doesn’t break his obedient posture. Truthfully, you have no idea what Felix is planning, but the tension in the room is electric, and you can’t wait to find out.

Felix suddenly claps his hands together, breaking the tension with his usual mischievous energy. “Let’s make this more fun. Champagne, anyone?” he suggests, already moving to grab a bottle from the nearby bar cart.

You blink, caught off guard but quickly finding yourself smiling at his spontaneity. “I’ll grab some ice,” you offer, heading to the kitchen.

By the time you return with a bucket of ice, Felix has already popped the cork, the soft pop echoing in the room as bubbles fizz up and over the rim. You set the bucket down, reaching for the glasses, but Felix waves you off with a playful smirk.

“Won’t be needing those,” he says, striding back to the sofa with the bottle in hand.

Hyunjin remains obediently seated, his bound wrists resting above his head as instructed. Felix sits beside him, turning to face him with a teasing smile.

“Thirsty?” Felix asks, tilting his head.

Hyunjin nods, his eyes flicking between Felix and the bottle, curiosity dancing in his gaze.

“Good,” Felix purrs, lifting the bottle and bringing it close to Hyunjin’s lips. He tips it slowly, letting the champagne flow into Hyunjin’s mouth. But without control over the bottle, some of the sparkling liquid spills, dribbling down the corner of Hyunjin’s mouth and staining his shirt.

Felix gasps theatrically, pulling the bottle away. “Hyunjin! You made a mess,” he scolds, though his tone is anything but serious. His eyes gleam as he turns to you. “Undo his shirt, will you?”

You hesitate for half a second before nodding, moving closer. Hyunjin sits still, his chest rising and falling steadily as you unbutton his shirt, one button at a time. Your fingers graze his skin as you work, pulling the hem free from his slacks and parting the fabric to reveal his toned chest.

Felix leans back, taking in the sight with a satisfied smirk. “Much better,” he muses. “Let’s try this again.”

This time, Felix takes a generous gulp from the bottle, holding the champagne in his mouth as he leans toward Hyunjin. Hyunjin, anticipating what’s coming, parts his lips eagerly. Felix tips forward, letting the champagne trickle from his mouth into Hyunjin’s.

More champagne spills, dribbling down Hyunjin’s chin and onto his bare chest. Without thinking, you lean in, following the stream with your tongue. Hyunjin gasps sharply as your tongue drags a slow, deliberate line down his skin, tasting the sharp sweetness of the champagne mingling with the warmth of his body.

When you glance up, Felix is watching you with an approving grin. He hands you the bottle next, raising an eyebrow. “Your turn, bub.”

You take the bottle, your pulse quickening as you take a gulp of champagne. It fizzes on your tongue as you lean toward Hyunjin, mirroring Felix’s earlier movement. Hyunjin’s lips part instinctively, and you let the champagne spill from your mouth into his, the sensation thrilling and intimate.

As you pull back, a small droplet escapes the corner of your mouth. Before you can react, Felix’s hand catches your chin, his tongue darting out to lick away the stray drop. His lips crash against yours in a heated kiss, and you feel his grin against your mouth as he deepens it.

Hyunjin groans softly, his gaze fixed on the two of you as you kiss, completely ignoring his presence. When Felix finally pulls back, both of you are laughing breathlessly, your foreheads brushing together as Hyunjin watches with a mix of exasperation and yearning.

Felix turns to Hyunjin, smirking. “Enjoying the show?” he teases, and the spark in Hyunjin’s eyes promises that the night is far from over.

Hyunjin's lips curve into a sly smile, his eyes glinting with intrigue. “Definitely,” he shortly answers, his voice low and smooth.

Felix smirks, clearly pleased. “Since you’re enjoying it so much, we might as well continue,” he says, his tone light but deliberate.

With that, Felix reaches for your hands, gently guiding you toward Hyunjin. His movements are slow and purposeful as he gestures for you to sit on Hyunjin’s lap. You glance at Hyunjin, catching the flicker of curiosity in his gaze, but you give nothing away, keeping your own thoughts veiled.

Felix moves behind you, his hands brushing down your shoulders with a tantalizing slowness before slipping to your neck. He tilts your head back, and his lips find yours, the kiss deep and commanding. His hands trail downward, their path unhurried but intentional, the warmth of his touch sparking shivers along your spine.

You barely register the shift until you feel his hands cupping your breasts and he pulls his hands away only to bring the soft fabric of your dress to give way under his fingers. Felix’s hands tease the neckline down with practiced ease, exposing more of you to the cool air and the heat of Hyunjin’s gaze.

As if compelled, Hyunjin leans forward, his plush lips finding the soft of your mounds. His touch is soft but insistent, leaving traces of warmth against your chest. Felix notices immediately, his brow quirking with mock disapproval. Without a word, he presses a hand to Hyunjin’s chest, gently but firmly guiding him back against the sofa.

“Not yet,” Felix murmurs, a hint of authority in his voice. His words are playful, but there’s no mistaking the control he holds over the moment. You smirk at Hyunjin, your expression teasing but complicit, as you adjust the fabric of your dress, letting it fall further.

Felix retrieves the champagne bottle, its surface glistening with condensation. He cradles it in his hand, turning back to Hyunjin with a knowing smile. “If you want to drink, you’ll have to do it my way,” Felix says, his tone both a challenge and an invitation.

Hyunjin nods, his anticipation palpable as Felix positions the bottle above you. The first chilled drop hits your skin, drawing a gasp from your lips. The wine trickles slowly, winding down the valley of your breasts, and Hyunjin doesn’t hesitate. His mouth follows the trail, his movements deliberate yet urgent, savoring every moment.

The contrast between the cold champagne and Hyunjin’s warm lips sends a shiver through you. Even as Felix stops pouring, Hyunjin continues, licking and sucking on your skin, his focus unwavering.

Felix watches with a satisfied smirk, his voice breaking the tension. “Do you want more?” he asks, his words aimed at Hyunjin.

Hyunjin glances up, his expression fervent. “Yes,” he says simply, his voice rough with desire.

Felix obliges, tilting the bottle once more, the champagne cascading down in a shimmering stream down your chest again. Hyunjin leans closer, his mouth catching the flow with a hunger that’s both mesmerizing and exhilarating. Your breath catches at the intensity, the warmth of his touch a striking contrast to the chilled wine.

Felix chuckles softly, clearly relishing the scene he’s orchestrated. “That’s enough for now,” he says, his hand lingering on your shoulder, grounding you in the moment. The room buzzes with an unspoken energy, the air thick with tension, anticipation, and the undeniable pull between all three of you.

Felix steps around the sofa with purpose, standing behind Hyunjin and tilting his head back. His movements are commanding, and Hyunjin doesn’t resist. Felix leans down, their lips meeting in a bold kiss, a mix of dominance and familiarity. You watch, the intensity of the moment pulling you in, and you find yourself pressing soft kisses to Hyunjin’s exposed neck and collarbone. His skin is warm beneath your lips, his subtle cologne mingling with the faint aroma of champagne lingering in the air.

Unable to resist adding to the tension, you shift slightly, letting your hips brush against Hyunjin’s crotch in a deliberate motion. His sharp intake of breath lets you know your teasing isn’t unnoticed.

Felix releases Hyunjin, his eyes flickering toward you before capturing your lips next. The kiss is heated, his hand cupping the side of your face, guiding you closer. Meanwhile, Hyunjin leans forward, his lips grazing the curve of your shoulder, then your collarbone, adding to the heat building between the three of you.

Felix pulls away just enough to whisper something low into your ear, his voice sending a shiver through you. “Get off Hyunjin’s lap.”

Obeying his unspoken command, you rise from Hyunjin’s lap, stepping back slightly. Hyunjin’s expression shifts, a subtle mix of frustration and longing, as he watches you slip out of your dress. Standing in just your white underwear, you feel the air in the room grow thicker. Felix mirrors your confidence, shedding his own shirt with practiced ease, leaving you both standing almost bare before Hyunjin.

The exchange of glances between you and Felix speaks volumes. Without words, you both fall into a rhythm, your lips latched and hands roaming around each other’s bodies, moving together in a way that teases and tempts Hyunjin, leaving him captivated and eager for what might come next. Felix’s smirk grows as he places a hand on your waist, pulling you into him, while Hyunjin’s gaze stays fixed, the air around you all practically crackling with anticipation.

As you and Felix are busy kissing each other’s faces, Hyunjin brings his tied hands forward, impatiently he yanks open the front of his slacks and takes his semi hard out of its confine. He's stroking it as he's watching Felix kissing you with one hand buried between your legs, fingering you with his dainty fingers.

Noticing that Hyunjin is using his hands, Felix comes up at him and put them back behind his head, earning a groan of complaint from Hyunjin. “Nuh-uh! Not yet!”

Felix holds out his hand at you and you immediately take it, he steers you forward, gesturing you to sit on Hyunjin’s lap.

“Just relax...” he suggests.

Hyunjin lets out a low sigh as you slowly rest your back against his chest, he plants his plush lips on your bare shoulder and reflexively brings his hands forward, wanting to touch you.

“Just need to take this off,” Felix murmurs as he tugs at the elastic band of your underwear before pulling it down your legs.

Unknowingly, Hyunjin tears the knot around his wrists with his teeth. The second his hands are breaking free, he places them all over you, caressing and touching you, feeling the softness of your skin with his fingertips. You shiver as his fingers graze your nipple and his mouth nips at your neck.

“I love how sensitive you are, bub,” he whispers into your ear, hot breath fanning your neck.

Felix is now kneeling on the floor and as if Hyunjin reafs his intention, he glides his hands down to your thighs and parting your legs open for him, making you feel exposed than you already are but the way Felix’s lustful eyes widen at the sight of your core, oh, it arouses you so much.

Felix excessively licks his lips before diving into your wetness, his small mouth takes more than what he could, licking, sucking, his tongue flicking over your clit.

“Oh, God!” you sharply gasp with one hand grips at Hyunjin’s forearm and the other tugging at Felix’s hair.

Instead of letting you holds his arm, Hyunjin takes your hand and wraps it around his length. You mewl against his lips as you feel how hot and hard he is in your hand.

Noticing that Hyunjin’s cock lingering not far from his mouth, Felix shifts his focus there, taking it into his mouth, sending Hyunjin’s eyes rolling to the back for a split moment.

You and Hyunjin watching Felix as he's pleasing both of you at the same time, his mouth full of Hyunjin’s length and his hand is busy circling on your clit, moving in sync to give you both the utmost pleasure.

“Yes, baby, just like that,” Hyunjin murmurs as he tangles his hand in Felix’s hair.

Hyunjin moves his other hand to cup your breast, his fingers lightly rubbing on your nipple, rolling it in between beforr gently pinching on it. He slyly smiles as he catches your pained expression.

Felix’s focus returns to you again, he plants his mouth on your cunt, ignoring how your essence gets all over his mouth and chin while his hand incessantly stroking Hyunjin’s cock.

“Keep going, baby. She's close,” Hyunjin murmurs in between his heavy breathing, he turns his head towards you, his lips grazing your ear as he speaks. “Right, bub?”

It's true. They know what they're doing and your body only reacts accordingly as Hyunjin steadily holds your legs up by the back of your knees so Felix can plants his mouth deeper inside you.

You're squirming on Hyunjin’s lap, moans spilling out of your parted mouth, echoing in the living room. You don't feel anything not even the way Hyunjin’s fingers dug into your flesh or how hard Felix sucks on your clit, all you feel is pleasure after pleasure and it keeps building up.

Your arm curve around Hyunjin’s neck, grasping at his hair while the knot in your stomach keeps tightening and your toes curling.

If it wasn't for Hyunjin keeping them parted open, you would have shut your legs and clamped Felix’s head in between. Your eyes screwed shut as the pleasure keeps building inside you yet Felix continues moving his tongue and mouth to get you closer to the edge until—

“Oh!” a loud moan escapes your mouth as your body tenses and goes limp on the next second on Hyunjin’s lap.

Felix keeps his mouth planted between your folds, he runs his tongue repeatedly, drinking in your essence before finally letting go.

Hyunjin slowly lets go of your legs and puts them down,  seeing the crescent marks he made on your skin, he quickly gives them soothing rubs with his knuckles.

“You look beautiful like this, bub.” Hyunjin compliments and you can hear his smile without having to look.

Felix makes a trail of kisses that begins from your abdomen to your chest and neck, he lands a long kiss there before bringing his lips to yours for a hot, slobbering kiss that you can taste yourself on him.

Hyunjin grabs Felix by the jaw and brings his head close, wanting to have your taste on him too. Through your half-shut eyes, you watch as they're kissing with their tongues twirling, passionate yet there's tenderness in them.

After a while, Felix pulls away from the kiss with a smile and puts his attention back to you. He looks at you and brushes your hair away from your face, “Let's get you to bed, mmh?”

He takes your arms and puts them around his neck before scooping your body in his. In one swift moment, he lifts you from Hyunjin’s lap and you cling to him as he carries you to the guest bedroom.

Once inside, Felix carefully lays you down on the bed and turns on the bedside lamp, keeping the light low. With a soft smile, he joins you on the bed, lying next to you as you're still coming down from your high.

He kisses your neck, along your collarbone and then on your sternum, letting a low sigh, he looks at you and says, “I'm going to miss this body, bub.”

You smile at him because you're going to miss the way he makes you feel admired and adored, like you're the only thing that fascinated him.

“And maybe miss me too?” Hyunjin chimes in as he comes into the room, ditching his slacks before climbing onto the bed.

You and Felix let out a low chuckle but all is forgotten as the three of you cuddling on the bed, skin on skin, limbs going all over each other, bodies tangled together.

The next thing you know, your body is ready to climb the high. One thing rushes to your head and you know how selfish it sounds but there’s no right time to say it except now.

“I want you two to cum inside me,” you blurt out the second you let go of Hyunjin’s lips.

Lying on his stomach, Felix tilts his head as he looks at you. He gently cups your cheek with his hand as he asks. “Is that what you want?”

You nod as you stare back at him and then at Hyunjin, letting them know that this is what you really want. Hyunjin then takes your hand, bringing it close enough to place a kiss on your wrist. “Your wish has always been our command,” he says with a warm smile.

Getting into the position, your hips are on the edge of the bed and you keep your knees bent, your feet hanging at the end of the bed.

In order to make your wish come true, Hyunjin and Felix decide that it's best if they take turns in fucking you and that way, they'll be cumming around the same time, inside you.

Hyunjin takes the first turn, he gives his length a few pumping before rubbing it between your folds, drenching it in your essence as a lubricant. He runs his hand on the side of your body then grips at your waist, he stares at you with eyes wide and dark with lust.

“I'm going in, yeah?” he lowly mutters as he aligns his cock with your entrance.

You hold your breath the whole time Hyunjin pushes his length into you and gasp when he finally bottomed out. He throws his head back, overwhelmed. “This tightness, oh, Bub, you're perfect.”

Hyunjin always knows what to say like his plush lips aren't sweet enough, like his kisses aren't dizzying enough, like Felix isn't already doing it to you as he waits for his turn.

Hyunjin moves at a steady pace and once in a while, his eyes flick down to watch the way his cock going in and out of you, but he enjoys watching your face contort in pleasure more.

Hyunjin stops when he comes too close to his high and slowly draws out of you, a groan falls out of his mouth as he takes a step back, slightly staggering.

Felix plants a long kiss on your lips before taking his position, standing at the end of the bed and enters you, feeling how wet and tight you are around him that he growls like a wounded animal.

“Have you always been this tight, bub?” He asks with a suppressed groan.

The room filled with your shared moans, skin slapping sounds and the rustle of the sheets underneath you as you hold on to them, crumpling it in your hands as you take every thrust from both Hyunjin and Felix as they take turns on fucking you.

They know. They obviously know you've climaxed twice already but you persist, telling them to keep going.

“Don’t stop, please!” You beg between your moans and whines.

You open your eyes to find Hyunjin tirelessly thrusting into you even though a sheen of sweat coated his face and his hair stuck to his forehead. He's close, you know from the way his cock starts twitching inside you yet he wants to hold off as long as he could.

A minute later, he tilts his head up and lets out a frustrated groan. “Fuck! I can't hold it anymore.”

One, two thrusts later, Hyunjin comes undone, he slightly pulls away to launch his cock deep into you. Felix puts his arms around him, holding him from the back and kissing his neck as Hyunjin is spilling his seed inside you as you asked.

After a moment, Hyunjin finds the strength to pull out and Felix is ready to catch him into his arms, helping him to steady himself before taking his turn next. Though Felix is unsure whether you want to continue as you look spent and flushed on the bed.

He leans in, brushing your hair away from your forehead and then kisses it, “You sure you want to continue, bub?”

You nod, bobbing your head until he gets it that you want to continue no matter what. He smiles at you and kisses you on the lips before finally giving you what you wanted.

Felix ignores how drenched you are with Hyunjin’s cum dripping out of you, he moves at a painstakingly slow motions yet doing it intensely, you can feel every inch of his length inside you.

You’re lying there, tired yet content, feeling nothing but pleasure that keeps filling you and pleasing you to no end. However, you feel more sensitive after each orgasm and when Felix finally cum, you gasp at how you can feel his warm seed overflowing you.

“Yeah, take all of me, bub,” Felix murmurs with his low, deep voice.

Not pulling away yet, Felix starts peppering your chest and neck with kisses. They feel so rewarding as they feel so warm and affectionate, each kiss longer than previous one.

“Such a good girl!” Felix compliments with another rewarding kiss on your jaw.

With your eyes remain closed, you can hear their collective gasp when Felix pulls away, you can’t see how much or how messy it is down there but God, you feel so fucking content that you don't care about anything else.

You feel hands on your hips, knees and ankles, then kisses on your thighs, your eyelids feel heavy that it takes you a minute to be able to open your eyes and look down.

Hyunjin and Felix are going down on you again and now that you see them, you can feel their slick, hot tongues collecting their cum and drinking it. Occasionally, they'll stop and turns their heads toward each other, then kiss. You can't find anything more erotic than that but one thing for sure, it only happens on date night and you feel sad that it's probably the last one you had with them.

-

The three of you lay together on the bed, the low hum of the heater filling the quiet spaces between you. You hold your glass, staring into what’s left of the martini Felix helped you make earlier. Hyunjin rests his back against the headboard, his arm draped around Felix, while Felix sits cross-legged, letting you rest your head on his lap, his gaze soft but focused on you.

“Hey, bub?” Felix calls with a gentle brush of his small hand in your hair.

You tilt your head and lean into his touch. “Yes?”

Felix catches a strand of hair between his fingers then tucks it behind your ear. “Have you decided whether you'll be staying or...?”

“Listen,” Hyunjin adds, his voice gentle but firm, “we just want you to know that we support whatever decision you make.” 

Felix nods in agreement, a small, reassuring smile on his lips. “We really mean it. No matter what happens, we’re so grateful for everything you’ve done for us—for Aster, especially.” 

You swallow hard, their words hitting you with a weight you weren’t prepared for. You glance at the two of them, your vision blurring slightly. “I don’t know what to do,” you admit, your voice trembling. “I—I feel so torn. I love being here with you, with Aster. It feels like home. But... if I don’t leave now, I might never take this chance. And then... I’ll always wonder.” 

Felix shifts closer, his expression filled with understanding. “It’s okay to feel that way,” he says softly. “It just means this place—and this family—mean a lot to you. And trust me, you mean just as much to us.” 

Hyunjin reaches over, placing a warm hand on your knee. “You’ll always have a home here,” he says, his voice steady and reassuring. “No matter where you go or what you do, we’ll always think of you as family.” 

-

The soft morning sun filters through the trees as you lift another bag into the trunk of the car, carefully tucking it into place. The sound of shoes scuffing on the pavement catches your attention, and you glance up to see Jeongin crossing the street, his easy smile already in place.

“Good morning,” he calls out, closing the distance to you.

“Morning, Jeongin,” you reply, stepping back to let him help as he reaches for one of the remaining bags.

“Need a hand with this?” he asks, already grabbing the bag.

“Thanks,” you say with a nod.

As he hoists the bag into the trunk, he glances at you. “Heading out this early? Where are you guys off to?”

“We’re going to the beach for the weekend,” you explain, leaning against the car for a moment.

Jeongin finishes loading the last bag and straightens up, brushing his hands off on his jeans. “A beach trip, huh? Sounds fun.”

“It is,” you agree with a small smile. “It's Felix’s idea. He insists that we're going as it'll probably be our last trip together.”

His smile wavers, his gaze searching your face. “So that means you've made up your mind about leaving?”

You hesitate, your fingers tightening on the edge of the car’s trunk. The truth is, you don’t have an answer yet—not one you’re ready to admit out loud. “I’m still... figuring that out.”

Before Jeongin can respond, Hyunjin steps out of the house, jogging over to the car. “Hey! Sorry I didn’t come out sooner to help,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly.

“No worries,” you reply lightly.

Hyunjin’s eyes flick to Jeongin, and he offers a polite smile. “Oh, morning, Jeongin.”

“Morning,” Jeongin says, giving Hyunjin a quick nod. Then he looks at you again, his expression softening. “Well, I won’t keep you. Have a great trip with the family.”

“Thanks,” you say, watching as he gives you one last smile before heading back across the street.

Not long after, you hear the patter of small footsteps on the driveway. Aster comes running at you, his tiny arms wrapping tightly around your waist as he beams up at you. “We're going to the beach, bubba!” he shouts with his eyes sparkling.

You laugh, ruffling his hair. “I know. How exciting!”

Felix appears next, his sunglasses perched on his head and a warm grin on his face. “Is everyone ready to go?”

“YES!” Aster shouts before anyone else can answer, bouncing on his toes.

Felix chuckles, glancing at you and Hyunjin. “Guess that settles it. Let’s hit the road.”

You close the trunk and take one last look down the street, your thoughts lingering briefly before turning to the journey ahead.

-

The car hums softly as you sit in the back seat with Aster, his little legs swinging excitedly as he talks nonstop about the beach. You lean your head against the window, staring at the passing scenery. It hits you all over again: today is the last day you’ll be with them, the last day you’ll be Aster’s babysitter. 

The thought feels heavy, but you shake it off. You promised yourself this morning that you wouldn’t let it weigh you down, not today. Today, you’re going to enjoy every moment with this family you’ve come to love. 

“We’re gonna see duckies, right? Big duckies?” Aster’s excited voice snaps you out of your thoughts. 

Hyunjin chuckles from the driver’s seat, glancing at Felix beside him. "Seagulls, Aster. They’re called seagulls." 

Aster frowns briefly, then grins. "Duckies!" he insists, making you laugh. 

The drive is filled with his chatter, punctuated by the occasional questions from Felix or playful corrections from Hyunjin. You find yourself smiling more often than not, soaking in the familiar warmth of these moments. 

As the car gets closer to the beach, Aster’s chatter starts to fade. You glance down and see him leaning heavily against you, his eyes fluttering shut. By the time you arrive, he’s fully asleep, curled up like a little ball against your side. 

Hyunjin parks the car and stretches, turning around to see Aster snoozing away. "Should we wake him?" he asks. 

You and Felix try gently shaking him, calling his name softly, but Aster only lets out a small sigh and snuggles deeper into his nap. Felix laughs, scooping him up into his arms. "He’ll wake up when he’s ready," he says, cradling Aster with practiced ease. 

The three of you settle on a bench near the shore, eating the packed meal Felix prepared while Aster remains fast asleep in his dad’s arms. You steal glances at the waves, the sound of the surf calming you in a way that’s both comforting and painful. It feels like the sea knows you’re leaving too. 

When Aster finally stirs, blinking blearily up at Felix, he stretches his little arms and immediately perks up. “Duckies!” he shouts, wiggling out of Felix’s hold. 

You laugh as he starts running toward the seagulls scattered across the sand, his little legs pumping furiously as he chases after them. "Duckies, wait!" he calls, and the seagulls scatter, squawking loudly. 

You trail after him, keeping a careful eye on his path. “Aster, they’re not duckies!” you tease. 

“They are!” he yells over his shoulder, his face lit up with pure joy. 

After a while, Hyunjin takes over, scooping Aster up and spinning him around before carrying him toward the water. You and Felix find a spot on the beach, spreading out towels and sitting down as Hyunjin and Aster splash in the shallows. 

Felix leans back on his hands, gazing out at the scene. "He’s going to remember this day forever," he says softly, his voice tinged with emotion. 

You follow his gaze, watching as Hyunjin crouches beside Aster, helping him scoop wet sand into a little bucket. They’re both laughing, their hair shining under the sun. You glance at Felix, his expression filled with quiet pride and love, and feel your chest tighten. 

"He’s lucky to have you both," you say, your voice barely audible over the sound of the waves. 

Felix turns to you, his eyes meeting yours. "And we’re lucky to have you," he replies, his tone earnest. 

You look away, focusing on the ocean, because you don’t trust yourself to respond without breaking.

-

The four of you pile into the car after an eventful afternoon at the beach, Mandu happily wagging her tail as she hops onto Hyunjin’s lap. Aster is tucked securely into his car seat, already dozing off from the day’s excitement. You settle into your seat, gazing out the window at the fading coastline, feeling a pang in your chest. This is your last day with them—a thought that has lingered all day like a shadow. 

But you push it aside. Not today, you promise yourself. Today, I’ll focus on them. On us.

Soon, the car rolls to a stop in front of a cozy rented beach house at the quieter end of the shoreline. The smell of saltwater mingles with the soft, cooling breeze of the evening. Mandu leaps out of the car as soon as the door opens, trotting circles around Felix’s feet. 

“We’ll get dinner started,” Felix says, gesturing for Hyunjin to follow him inside. “You should take Mandu for a quick walk before she drives us all crazy.” 

“I’ll take Aster with me,” you offer, smiling as Hyunjin raises a brow. 

“You sure? He might want to chase after Mandu instead of holding your hand.” 

You chuckle. “I’ll manage.” 

With Aster’s tiny hand in yours and Mandu on her leash, you stroll down the beach, the evening sky streaked with shades of pink and orange. Mandu dashes ahead, playfully digging into the sand before rolling onto her back, her fluffy coat coated with grains. 

Aster giggles at her antics. “Silly doggie,” he says, tugging you toward her. 

“She’s always silly,” you reply, your heart swelling as you watch the little boy’s infectious joy. 

You crouch down, helping Aster search for seashells. He carefully places his treasures in your palm, chattering about the colors and shapes. Eventually, you find a quiet spot where the waves kiss the shore and sit down, pulling Aster into your lap. 

The two of you sit in comfortable silence, watching the sun sink lower, painting the water in hues of gold and crimson. A sense of calm washes over you, but it’s tinged with melancholy. This serene moment, this closeness, is something you’ll soon leave behind. 

You cuddle Aster close, resting your chin on his tiny shoulder. “Aster,” you say softly, “I love you.” 

Aster leans back into you, completely at ease. “I know,” he replies, his voice sweetly nonchalant. 

You laugh, surprised at his casual confidence. “Oh, you know huh?” 

He twists around to look at you, his big eyes bright with sincerity. “Yeah. You’re special to me, Bubba.” 

His words hit you harder than you expect. Your breath catches, and tears spill over before you can stop them. Aster tilts his head, his small hands gently holding your face. 

“No crying!” he says, his little voice firm and insistent. “No crying!” 

You sniffle, forcing a smile as your heart swells painfully in your chest. “Okay, okay. But if I stop crying, you have to give me a kiss. Deal?” 

“Deal!” Aster exclaims, pressing a sloppy kiss to your cheek. 

“Ugh! Slobbery!” You playfully groan, wiping your tears away as he beams at you, proud of himself.

Pulling him close again, you hold onto the moment—the sound of the waves, the warmth of the setting sun, and the little boy who somehow always knows what your heart needs. 

But as the sun dips lower, a heaviness settles in your chest. The reality of leaving Aster feels unbearable, like a weight pressing down on you. You hold him a little tighter, dreading the moment when these little moments will only exist in your memory. 

Before the sadness can fully take over, Hyunjin’s voice calls from the beach house, breaking the spell. “Dinner’s ready! Aster, come on, it’s time to eat!” 

Aster wiggles out of your arms, already running toward the house with Mandu trailing after him. You take a deep breath, composing yourself, and get up to follow them. 

Just one more night, you remind yourself, watching Aster’s small figure disappear into the warm glow of the house. I’ll make the most of it.

-

The dining table is bathed in the soft hues of the setting sun, its golden rays streaming through the windows of the beach house. Felix and Hyunjin have outdone themselves with dinner: grilled fish, fresh salad, roasted vegetables, and a warm loaf of bread. Aster eagerly digs into his plate, his messy but happy eating bringing laughter to everyone around the table. 

“You’ve got sauce all over your chin, baby,” Hyunjin chuckles, wiping Aster’s face with a napkin as the little boy giggles in protest. 

“It’s okay, Daddy! It’s tasty!” Aster exclaims, making you and Felix laugh. 

The conversation flows effortlessly, filled with lighthearted teasing, funny anecdotes, and shared memories of the day. The atmosphere is peaceful and warm, as if the setting sun is blessing the moment. You glance around the table, soaking it all in—the laughter, the love, the feeling of belonging. 

As the meal winds down and Aster’s energy finally begins to wane, his tiny eyelids droop, and his head nods forward. You smile softly, brushing a lock of hair from his forehead. 

“I’ll tuck him in,” you offer, already rising from your seat. 

Hyunjin nods with a grateful smile. “Thanks. It’ll probably be his quickest bedtime ever.” 

Carrying Aster to his room, you marvel at how small and light he feels in your arms. The day’s excitement has worn him out completely, and he barely stirs as you settle him onto the bed. You carefully pull the blanket over him and sit beside him, watching his peaceful face as he sleeps. 

Your heart feels heavy as you whisper, “Goodnight, Aster. I love you so much.” 

You reach out, gently brushing your fingers through his soft hair. “I hope you’ll never forget me,” you murmur, the words catching in your throat. 

Leaning down, you press a kiss to his forehead, lingering for just a moment. “Sweet dreams, Bub.” 

As quietly as possible, you leave the room, closing the door softly behind you. 

When you return to the living room, Hyunjin and Felix are waiting for you on the balcony, the soft glow of lanterns and the sound of waves creating a serene atmosphere. Felix hands you a drink with a small smile. “Come join us. We’re savoring the last of the summer nights.” 

You settle into a chair between them, the cool breeze carrying the scent of salt and the faint hum of crickets. The three of you sit in comfortable silence for a while, sipping your drinks and listening to the rhythmic crash of the waves. 

Eventually, Felix is the one to break the quiet. “So,” he begins, his voice gentle, “have you decided? Are you staying, or…?” 

You take a deep breath, gripping the glass in your hands as you stare out at the horizon. “I… I’ve been so torn. I love you all so much, and leaving feels like tearing a part of myself away. But…” 

Felix and Hyunjin exchange a glance, their expressions soft and understanding. 

Your chest tightens, and tears spill over before you can stop them. You try to speak, but all that comes out is a choked sob. Felix immediately leans forward, wrapping you in a hug, and you cling to him like a lifeline. 

“I don’t want to leave,” you whisper, your voice muffled against Felix’s shoulder. “But I feel like I have to.” 

Felix rubs slow circles on your back as Hyunjin gently squeezes your knee. “It’s okay,” Felix murmurs. “It’s okay to feel that way. It’s okay to leave, too. It doesn’t mean you’re leaving us behind. It just means you’re taking the next step in your life.” 

As the conversation unfolds, your tears eventually subside, but the ache in your chest remains. Sitting here with them, feeling their warmth and support, it’s the most bittersweet moment you’ve ever experienced. 

For the first time, you allow yourself to fully consider what it would mean to leave. To step away from this home, from this family you’ve grown to love so deeply. And as painful as it is, the clarity begins to settle over you like a heavy, unshakable truth. 

“I think...” you begin, your voice barely above a whisper, “I think leaving is the right thing to do.” 

Felix pulls back just enough to look you in the eyes, his own glistening with unshed tears. “Then we’ll be here, cheering you on every step of the way,” he says, his voice unwavering.

Hyunjin nods, a small but heartfelt smile on his face. “And you’ll always know where to find us.” 

Felix leans closer, his gaze earnest as he adds, “And we’ll always consider you family, no matter where you go.” 

You manage a weak, watery smile. “Thank you. For everything.” 

They both pull you into a hug, and for a long moment, the three of you sit there, wrapped in each other’s presence, the unspoken goodbye already beginning to settle in the air around you. 

The three of you raise your glasses, a silent toast to the love and memories you’ve shared. As the night deepens and the sounds of the waves blend with the cool breeze, you realize this is the perfect ending to your time with them—bittersweet, but filled with love.

-

The early morning air is crisp and quiet as the family car pulls up to the driveway, marking the end of your time together. Everyone steps out, stretching from the long drive back from the beach house. Felix and Hyunjin exchange soft smiles as they begin to unload bags, and you instinctively step in to help. 

Once everything is carried inside, a sense of finality washes over you. This is it—your goodbye. 

Hyunjin is the first to approach you, his smile warm but tinged with sadness. He opens his arms, and you step into the embrace. It’s firm and comforting, just like him. 

“Good luck,” he says softly. “With the new job, with life, with everything. You’re going to do amazing, and don’t forget—we’re always here if you need us.” 

“Thank you, Hyunjin,” you whisper, your voice cracking slightly as you pull away. 

Then it’s Felix’s turn. His expression is carefully neutral, but you can see the glimmer of unshed tears in his eyes. As he wraps his arms around you, he holds you a little longer, a little tighter. 

“Thank you,” he murmurs, his voice trembling. “For everything. For being there for us, for loving Aster the way you did, for being a part of our family.” 

You feel the tears prick at the corners of your eyes, and your throat tightens as you nod against his shoulder. “You all made it easy to love you. I’ll miss you so much.” 

When you step back, Felix quickly looks away, wiping his eyes before Aster notices. 

Lastly, you crouch down to Aster’s level. He’s still drowsy from napping in the car, rubbing his eyes and leaning heavily against Hyunjin’s leg. 

“Bye, Aster,” you say, gently brushing his soft hair. “Be good for your dads, okay?” 

Aster blinks up at you, his tiny hand reaching out to hold yours. “Bye-bye,” he says sleepily. Then, with a big yawn, he adds, “See you again!” 

Your heart clenches at the innocence of his words, the way he doesn’t understand that this is goodbye. You pet Mandu’s fluffy head one last time, murmuring a quiet goodbye to the little dog as she wags her tail happily. 

As you walk down the driveway, the bittersweet ache in your chest grows heavier. You glance back one last time, catching a glimpse of them through the doorway—Hyunjin with his arm around Felix’s shoulders, Felix holding Aster close, and Mandu wagging her tail as if she’s waiting for you to turn around and come back. 

For a fleeting moment, you imagine what it would be like to stay—to keep waking up to Aster’s laughter, Felix’s teasing, and Hyunjin’s calm steadiness. To keep being a part of this little world you’ve cherished so deeply. 

But life moves forward, and so must you. 

The morning sun casts a warm glow over the house, almost like a goodbye of its own. As you reach the end of the driveway, a tear finally escapes, trailing down your cheek. You quickly wipe it away and whisper to yourself, They’ll be okay. And so will I.

The sound of Aster’s voice carries faintly on the breeze, his happy giggle mingling with the distant crash of the waves you left behind at the beach. 

With one last look, you turn and walk away, the weight in your heart mixed with a small, comforting warmth. You might be leaving, but the memories of this place, this family, will stay with you—etched into your soul like footprints in the sand, softly washed away but never forgotten. 

And as you take the first steps toward your new chapter, you know that some goodbyes aren’t endings; they’re beginnings in disguise.

-

EPILOGUE

Four years later, your life has transformed into a whirlwind of success and creativity. Working at an architectural firm has been both challenging and rewarding, and every project you take on seems to push your career to greater heights. You’re engrossed in reviewing blueprints when your desk phone rings, pulling you out of your focus. 

“Someone at the front desk wants to see you,” the receptionist says. You glance at your schedule, confused—there’s no meeting planned. 

“Who is it?” you ask. 

“Mr. Felix Lee,” she replies, reading the name from a post-it note.

The name hits you like a warm wave of nostalgia. Felix. You can’t remember the last time you saw him, though you’ve thought about him, Hyunjin, and Aster countless times since you left. Heart racing with excitement, you rush to the lobby. 

There he is, standing by the glass doors, looking just like you remember but a little older, more refined. His smile is bright, and his arms are open as he greets you with a hug. “Gosh!” You gasp in surprise, “How wonderful to see you!”

Felix lets go of the hug yet his hand lingers on your arm, rubbing it up and down as he warmly speaks. “So good to see you!”

You take a step back to take a full look of him, still in disbelief that he's here in the flesh. “It’s real,” you mutter to yourself.

“Is it okay if I take you out for lunch?” he asks, his voice as warm and familiar as ever. 

You don’t hesitate. “Of course!” 

The two of you find a cozy café nearby. Over plates of comfort food, you can’t stop yourself from asking questions about everything. 

“How’s Hyunjin?” 

“Still as dramatic as ever,” Felix says with a laugh. “He’s heading the night news now.” 

“And Aster?” you ask, a wave of fondness washing over you at the mention of his name. 

Felix’s expression softens. “He’s starting school soon. Can you believe it? He’s so excited to make new friends.” 

You smile, imagining Aster’s bright energy lighting up a classroom. “I’m sorry I haven’t been able to visit. Work has been so…” 

“Hey,” Felix interrupts, “we understand. Life happens. But it’s good to see you now.” 

There’s a pause as you sip your drink, the moment so full of nostalgia and unspoken gratitude. Then curiosity gets the better of you. “So, what brought you to see me? I mean, I’m thrilled you’re here, but…” 

As if he's just remembered something, Felix rummaging through his bag and pulls out something, he then places it in front of you. It's an envelope.

“What’s this?” You ask in a mix of curiosity and excitement.

Felix shrugs, letting you to find out what's inside the envelope yourself. You rubs your hands together before picking it up from the table, you flip it around and carefully open it, sliding what looks like a greeting card inside. A Christmas card to be exact.

“I guess you came here to deliver the Christmas card yourself, huh?”

He grins at that and sips his hot chocolate, he puts his attention back on you as you open the greeting card. The writing inside is hand-written and based on how wobbly the letters are, you guess Aster is the one who wrote it.

HAPPY CHRISTMAS, BUBBA! WE MISS YOU. He even adds colorful hearts around it and a drawing of snowman at the bottom.

It's inexplicable how you suddenly get teary eyed seeing Aster’s handwriting. “What? Aster can write now?”

“He's been practicing,” Felix casually says as if it’s not something worth to brag about.

You didn't notice it at first until you flip the card and sees the family photo. Hyunjin, Felix and Aster sitting on the floor next to the Christmas tree with Mandu innocently looking to the camera, tilting his head to the side. Your finger trails Aster’s face frozen in a picture, his smile is radiant yet full of life, looking the same as you remember him but with his hair cut short, he looks like a big boy now.

“Aster is a heartthrob already,” You say with a fond smile.

Felix smiles but his eyes aren't really doing the same, he hesitates about something.

“What is it, Felix?” You ask, getting a little nervous because he looks like someone who's about to share a piece of bad news.

He's glancing down at his plate and fidgets with his fork for a moment before meeting your eyes. “I actually came to ask for your help.” 

“Anything, please,” you reply instantly. “After everything you and Hyunjin have done for me, of course I’ll help. Just tell me what you need.” 

He hesitates again, clearly unsure how to phrase what he wants to say. You reach out and place a hand on his. “Felix, you can ask me anything.” 

He nods, takes a deep breath, and finally speaks. “Hyunjin and I… we’re planning to have another child.” 

The news makes you light up with joy. “Felix, that’s amazing! Congratulations!” 

“Thank you,” he says, his smile widening, but there’s a hint of nervousness in his eyes. 

“You didn’t have to come all this way to tell me that, though,” you tease. 

“There’s more,” he says, and his tone shifts to something more serious. “That’s where I need your help.” 

You lean forward, listening intently. 

Felix hesitates again, as though carefully choosing his words. Finally, he blurts it out. “We were hoping you might consider… being the surrogate for our child.” 

For a moment, the world seems to pause. You blink, trying to process what he just said. 

“I know it’s a lot to ask,” Felix quickly adds, his voice rushed. “And we’ll completely understand if it’s too much. But we trust you, and you mean so much to us. Hyunjin and I can’t think of anyone else we’d want to do this.” 

You sit back, overwhelmed but deeply moved. The weight of the request is immense, but so is the love you feel for this family. Despite the swirl of emotions, one thing is clear: this is Felix, someone who gave you a home when you needed it most, asking for your help to grow his own family. 

For a moment, you struggle to find the words. The café feels both intimate and overwhelming all at once. You manage a shaky smile and meet Felix’s hopeful gaze. 

“Felix… I need some time to think about this,” you say softly.  Felix nods, his understanding smile returning. “Of course. That’s all I’m asking for.” 

The conversation shifts to lighter topics, but the weight of Felix’s request lingers in the back of your mind. 

As you part ways outside the café, Felix gives you one last hug. “No matter what you decide, we’re grateful for you. Always.” 

You watch him gets into the back of the taxi and stay to see Felix drives away, but his words echoing in your mind. The city buzzes around you, but all you can hear is the sound of your own heart racing. 

As you turn and head back to work, you can’t help but glance over your shoulder. The question looms over you, unanswered, as the sun begins to set over the city. 

And for the first time in years, you wonder if this is the start of something new—or the closing of a chapter you never thought would reopen.

-

Support my writings by kindly reblog, comment or consider tipping me on my ko-fi!

@svintsandghosts @abiaswreck @ppiri-bahng @drhsthl @idkluvutellme @biribarabiribbaem @skz-streamer @biancaness @hanjisunginc @elizalabs3 @laylasbunbunny @kpopformylife @caitlyn98s @hann1bee @mamieishere @is2cb97 @marvelous-llama @bluenights1899 @sherryblossom @toplinehyunjin @hanjisbeloved @sunnyseungup @skz4lifer @stellasays45 @severeanxietyissues @avyskai @imseungminsgf @silentreadersthings @army-stay-noel @rylea08 @simeonswhore @yubinism @devilsmatches @septicrebel @rairacha @ven-fic-recs @hyunjiinnnn @lostgirlinthewoodss @schniti-is-in-the-house @jisunglyricist @minh0scat @simplymoo @inlovewithstraykids

[idontcaboose]

Luthor's Cricket

Part 1

Master post

“Are you sure this is going to work?” Lex asked for the nth time.

“Of course it will.” Said the cloaked figure.

Lex wasn't sure why the magic user bothered with the cloak, he had hired him by name after all. 

Gray Warden: 36 years old. Promotes himself as a psychopomp/medium that had pretty good reviews. 

Even from other magic users. Some of his other contacts confirmed that, while not strong in physical/destructive magic, he was an above average medium. His ability to summon spirits and other supernatural beings could be trusted, what he summoned was another story. 

Gray's usual clientele were people grieving loved ones, and the occasional ‘ghost hunter’ looking to ‘prove’ their existence. While not his main job, he did make a pretty penny off of the medium business. It didn't take much for Lex to hire him for a summoning, just a sob story about summoning a spirit to ‘help’ him ‘be better’ and a few thousand dollars. Lex knew most people would expect that would mean to have him act more like the utter buffoon Bruce Wayne, but really, he just wants to be better than Superman. 

Lex waited for Gray to get done drawing a circle on the wood table he had Lex provide and other “Spell components” he said. 

A solid wood table made from oak, ash, or thorne. Preferably oak and/or ash since this is a spirit for healing and new beginnings. When asked about the thorne wood, Gray blushed a bit and asked if he wished to Marry the spirit? Lex stopped asking questions after that. 

The highest quality of chalk available.

Stones of the birth month of Lex himself. When told it was a Sapphire, Gray got excited since that is apparently the perfect stone to summon a helpful spirit with.

And lastly, an object of Lex's choosing to help find the perfect spirit to ‘help’ Lex

Gray assured Lex that the spirit could not affect the world around them other than be heard and seen by those who called upon them. Once all of the preparations were complete Lex was beckoned over.

“So, to complete this ritual you will place your object in the center, with A Drop of your blood. Not two, not three, One. It is not enough to bind, but enough to identify. You will place your hand here, and here” Gray gestures to two symbols on one side of the table. “I will be powering these two symbols, and will call upon a spirit to show itself.

I will be very clear before we start. This is the first time I have done this ritual. I have seen it done twice by my mentor. I do not know exactly what will accept the summoning, but I have placed wards to keep malicious entities from hearing the call. Do you still wish to continue?” Gray asked.

Lex scoffed and placed a baseball sized chunk of Kryptonite on the table. “Let's see who we get.”

Within moments Gray was calling to the otherside, asking for a spirit to answer their call.

“Bro, did you seriously do the equivalent of pspssps'ing a Ghost over with candy?”

There were very few things that could make Lex blue screen. Watching a teenager floating lazily while licking the Kryptonite was one such thing. He had white hair, eyes as green as the rock he was nibbling on, and wearing a black and white suit that reminded Lex of the one the Flash wears.

Gray, apparently, took exception to that. “Excuse me? I don't just call spirits like stray cats!”

“My dude, you were just lacking a windowless van, you did give me free candy after all.” the kid pointed at Gray with the Kryptonite. 

“It's not candy, it's Kryptonite, and we summoned you to help me be better.” Lex stated. 

“Did you seriously summon me to be your Jiminy Cricket? Sure, I got time to waste.” The kid laughed. 

At those words a strange light linked from the kids chest to Lex's chest, glowing gold and toxic green. 

“What the fudg-”

“Lex!”

“Cancel the sum-”

Next

Tags

@dcxdpdabbles for their wonderful prompt/own story Linked Here

[aplaceforhumancorpses]

𓉸⁺‧₊˚ AFFECTION ROTS 𓂃🦇

„⤵ MILD ANGST „⤵ 1 / (?) PARTS „⤵ JASON TODD X READER Highschool sweethearts aren't meant to last, but Jason wants to change that, even after his ressurection.

After April 27th everything that once tasted sweet became bitter. Teenage romance is a ticking time bomb. It's a promise of flesh not made to last— meat rots over time, affection rots over time— and eventually, it all becomes rancid and sour.

Maybe that's what happened when Jason died. When your eyes met, a countdown began, ticking relentlessly toward its end. His time was always borrowed, and the clock, merciless as ever, simply ran out. The world the two of you shared stopped being his, and in the wake of it his memory became merely something to drive the day forward. Everything you couldn't be motivated to do was slapped with the statement "But Jason would've wanted you to" It was like a toxic parasocial relationship. His corpse dragged you in and out of pits of guilt and grief, while your body remained stagnant his ghost became restless inside of your head. Eventually, until you started to lose him in pieces.

Briefly, you would visit the box in your basement that contained some of his things. Hoodies and novels he read. You would smile at the annotations he made with sticky notes. Saving quotes that probably sounded deep and emotional to a teenage boy. A stuffed animal that smelled vaguely like him, or his cologne anyway. That box was where the memories of his existence stayed, buried under the blanket you had placed there. Admittedly sometimes you didn't want to think about him. It felt wrong to think of it that way. Grief is fatal to the mind. It's a disease. And maybe, on the worst days, it’s easier to let the infection run its course than to keep cutting into yourself trying to clean the wound.

You did a lot in the time between his last breath and now. life moved on, whether your sweet innocent Jason was beside you or not. After graduating high school, beginning your freshman year of college, and getting your first apartment it became easier. His cardboard grave sat there untouched, collecting dust, holding pieces of him you didn’t need anymore. Whatever you hadn’t already discarded, you packed away and left in the past.

yes, it still stung. Not like it used to—no longer sharp and unbearable. Instead, it lingered, dull and constant, a bruise you couldn’t stop pressing. Jason became irrelevant, just another detail in your coming-of-age story. Dating other men still felt like cheating. Still felt like betrayal. He'd probably be jealous if he saw you at those college parties. He was the type of boy to fight for you until his knuckles bled. Maybe he didn't have enough time to get the words out, but the sentiment would have been there. Even in death, you were his.

Your room grew up with you. The calendar you'd gotten as a white elephant gift was months behind. Your bedsheets kept the theme you chose for your room years ago. You barely even slept in it properly. There were bookshelves full of classics and poetry that were untouched. It wasn’t a sanctuary. It was a mausoleum. More often than not you would leave empty fountain soda cups on your desk like ornaments of the slump you were in mentally. The only things you'd done in this place were sleep and stare at your phone screen.

You ordered food hours ago. You couldn't be bothered to go and collect it yourself, but your driver never arrived. You took that as a hint. You simply weren't meant to eat tonight. It hurt to know how little you were spending on your own needs and desires. But you could hardly complain when you were living off the kindness of strangers. Your bills were paid by societies focused on providing for low income students. This money didn't come from nowhere. So why did you spend it on fatty junk like fast food? Your appetite was gone by now. But as a heavy thump reverberated through the wooden door on your apartment you shot up in hope of fatty junk fast food. Your hopes fell quickly as soon as the sounds from behind the door faded into nonsense dance of shuffling and pacing. You turned off your lamp. Maybe it was some drunk who had the wrong address. he would obviously realize this wasn't the right crack house, even though the decor suggested otherwise, and he would leave. You were tired and ready to turn in.

You heard it again. It seemed louder this time. You got up, stepping up onto your toes to look through the peephole. You were only met with the chest of this unwelcome visitor. You unlocked the deadbolt and pushed the door open slowly. Whoever it was was clearly out of it and angry. They didn't wait around for you to greet them. They barreled past you, knocking you against the door frame. They crashed into the kitchen counter. Folded over like a crumpled rag doll, holding their ribs.

The figure was large. Tall. Male obviously. Uncanny.

Some kind of muscular walking frankenstein of a human form.

You reached for the house phone. Should you call 911?… was this some kind of botched break in? It didn't look like he had any weapons.. but he probably had enough surface area from the base of his palm to the tips of his fingers to cover the entirety of your neck.

Before you could move, a hand slammed itself onto the table and you flinched away. The stranger looked back into your eyes, the whites of them so bright they nearly glowed like headlights.. the pupils dilated and narrowed.

"Who are you?" you whispered, your throat sore and dry, "What do you want?" You couldn't make out his face in its shadow. But it looked like someone very familiar…. Someone you knew well but couldn't quite remember in your stupor. You shook your head slightly to clear the haze.

He took slow, deliberate steps toward you, dragging his massive body from the kitchen island to where you still stood, frozen in place, pinned against the doorframe. The wind whipped harshly behind you. He closed the door gently, no longer slamming it. No longer banging. His arm went around your shoulders as he pulled you close. His breath warmed your ear.

"You… grew up without me.. You got really pretty. Just like i thought you would.." He breathed out, his lips brushing your hairline. You were still. In shock, you didn't dare react at all. "…I missed you." His grip tightened.

You felt the skin on his fingertips pulling against your arms and shoulder. You were too terrified to make a noise. Almost too terrified.

"You're dead." You said, pushing against his familiar warmth, trying to escape whatever strange force held you there. It didn't budge. "This is a really fucked up dream.. Jason wasn't this tall- or strong-" You broke off, swallowing thickly. Tears blurred your vision. He squeezed you tighter. You couldn't tell if you were imagining it or not. You weren't sure you were awake. "Let go!" you cried out. He frowned.

"Please… let me have this. just for a minute." He pleaded. "It's been too fucking long.." you could hear him begin to sob. There must have been something in the air that made your stomach twist and churn unpleasantly, until you sighed shakily.. giving in and relaxing as best you could against him. You weren't sure what exactly was happening- this wasn't real, right? What were these feelings you were having? Fear? Regret? Anxiety?

As you allowed your head to rest atop of his chest, you stared at the floorboards beneath your feet. You tried to calm yourself down. Your hands were trembling uncontrollably.

It was clear. The affection he held for you had not withered. It was as fresh, as raw, as it had been back in March, before everything fell apart.

Jason couldn't rot. He wasn't meant to.

...

Haha I'm so evil. Comment + Reblog? Where should the story go from here?

[thekaratcake-blog]

Also if we're going to play this game

1. These people all did what they did in the name of power, not atheism, not because of "atheistic ideology" because of power-hungry ideology which is actually encouraged in the bible, yknow, take the Holy lands, spread the word by the sword?

2. The nazis, just about universally considered the most evil people ever, were not only a Christian group but were put in power by Christian people, allied first with the Catholic Church, wore "god with us" on their belts, and I wonder why their most famously targeted group was a religious group that catholics are particularly known for hating? They fought in the name of religion, the crusades are supported by the bible, and as an African American you should know that slavery was upheld with the bible, which explicitly endorses slavery, exodus 21, Paul and a few places in leviticus

Oh and just to add on to that, even if you blamed it on just corrupt popes, that slaughter and rape and murder of the crusades (crusades being entirely justifiable biblically btw), the people doing that, what were they doing that in the name of? Why did they think that was okay? What was making them unafraid of death and consequences as they sexually abused children? (Something the bible also doesn't condemn and may even have encouraged during the slaughter of the caananites)

Why, pray tell, did they do that?

Also obviously, Hitler wasn't an atheist just a weird brand of Christian that was arguably not really Christian? Very different from his movement tho and he was Christian most of his life, I can't be bothered checking the rest but regardless, they used religious tactics to place themselves as gods to their people anyway

But yeah like the Catholic Church literally celebrated Hitler's birthday for a while

FInal edit and addition, athiestic ideaology doesn't exist, athiesm is literally just "I don't believe in a literal god" that is it, nothing else, no extra baggage, that is it, you're litereally just saying "ideaologies that don't happen to be my own"

[noxxuniverse]

LOA cannot be fake nor can you fail at it.

Yes, you read the title right.

Welcome to another LOA lesson coming from yours truly. I will be discussing today why The Law of Assumption can't be fake nor can you fail at it.

I recently got an ask, which I'm sure some of you read, where they said "the law of assumption doesn't work" and that it wasn't real and blah blah blah (no hate to the person who sent the ask in the first place btw). Babes, I'm going to hold your hand when I tell you this. You've been doing it your whole life. Yes, the one thing you lot find really hard for whatever reason, is something you've been doing forever and ever. It is how the very world around you, even exists in the first place.

The Law of Assumption is a LAW where everything you assume to be true, is true. Think back on things that have happened where you've been so certain this one thing is going to happen and then it did. That is an example of LOA. What are you reading this post on? Boom, an assumption. You believe you're reading this on your device, so that's how it's being shown. Still don't understand?

When you walk into your room, do you expect there to be nothing? Just an endless void? No. You expect there to be your room because you assume that, that is your room. Every single thing in your life is an assumption, you just weren't aware of it until now.

So why are you complicating it? You're just aware of your power now, so use it!! Stop procrastinating, stop begging other people to help you, simply just GET IT. You already have it!!

LOA cannot fail you, because it always has to show you what you focus on. If you want logic, it's because of something called the Reticular Activating System. It's in your brain, where whatever you tell yourself, you HAVE to see it. When you say to yourself, "Let me see if I can find anything pink in my room" your mind immediately looks at pink things in your room making you aware of it. That is RAS.

The point is, the more you consistently tell yourself something, the more you FOCUS on something, the more you're going to see it. How does this relate with LOA? Well, you're thinking in your favour, in your mind, you are thinking as if you have your desire. Therefore, your mind HAS to show you. That's it! It's THAT simple. You focus on the fact you already have it and boom, you'll have it.

[ridox]

yes zayne is hot and sexy but can we talk about how his entire life that man has lived by the book, following the rules, adhering to a strict regime that allowed him to graduate top of his class and be recognized as one of linkon’s, if not the world’s, best cardiac surgeon and how he’s subconsciously been forced to live under control control control because one small mistake could lead to devastating effects especially when your job entails being entrusted with the life of another yet when it comes to mc he just couldn’t do it anymore no matter how hard he tries, no matter how hard he suppresses his need, he just can’t help but lose control and finally be selfish for once to get what he desires the most and he desires her so much because she’s sweeter than any nectar this world could offer, she’s the air he so willingly breathes, she’s the only reason why it’s even hard for him to maintain his composure in the first place and if not for mc then zayne could’ve probably continued on living his day to day life following his habitual routine, obsessing over self-control and being the trustworthy doctor that saves lives but when it comes to mc all he sees himself as is but a human who’s willing to risk it all just to get a taste, just to get a little breath of her air, just for her to let him exist as a person worthy of devoting himself to her

[nondelphic]

creatives, please use alt text

one of the first things i learned in journalism school was how to write alt image descriptions.

at first, it felt tedious. every single photo or graphic required a description, and if we skipped it—or wrote a lazy one—our professors didn’t hesitate to fail us. at the time, i didn’t fully understand why it mattered. but now, i’m so grateful they drilled it into us. if i’d never gone to journalism school, i might have never known how vital alt text is.

for those unfamiliar, alt text (short for “alternative text”) is a written description of an image. it allows people who use screen readers to know what’s in an image, making content accessible to those who are blind, visually impaired, or have other disabilities that prevent them from viewing images. you're basically translating visual content into words.

as creatives, whether we’re writers, artists, photographers, or meme page admins, we have a responsibility to make our work accessible. after all, what’s the point of creating something if a huge portion of your audience can’t engage with it?

why alt text matters

it ensures accessibility - a visually impaired person using a screen reader should be able to understand the context of an image just as easily as a sighted person.

it’s inclusive - adding alt text isn’t just for people with disabilities. sometimes, images don’t load due to bad internet, and alt text helps everyone understand what’s missing.

it’s good practice - if your work exists online, you want it to be as widely understood as possible. accessibility makes your content stronger.

okay, but how do i write alt text?

writing alt text isn’t as hard as it might seem! here are some tips:

be concise but descriptive - describe the essential elements of the image. what would someone need to know to get the gist of it?

include context - if the image is part of a larger story, explain its relevance. for example, “a black cat sitting on a pumpkin, used to illustrate a halloween-themed story.”

don’t overthink it - you don’t need to describe every pixel. just focus on the most important details.

alt text and ai tools

in the era of chatgpt and microsoft copilot, we’ve got a major advantage: ai tools can now generate alt text for you!

while these tools aren’t perfect and often need a bit of tweaking, they’re a great starting point. platforms like adobe, microsoft, and even some social media apps have built-in options for generating descriptions. if you’re overwhelmed by the idea of writing alt text from scratch, let ai do the heavy lifting, and then refine it.

a creative responsibility

alt text isn’t just for journalists or big companies, it’s for all of us.

as creatives, we have the power to make the internet a more inclusive place. whether you’re posting a masterpiece, a meme, or a picture of your cat, take a moment to add alt text.

adding alt image description is SO EASY and quick and we all need to get better at adding it to our posts. i, myself, am not perfect. on here, for example, i've been really bad about writing alt image descriptions, and it's something i'm very disappointed in myself for. (i hereby pledge to do better, and please call me out for lacking in the future!)

writing alt text is not only about respecting your audience, but it's also about recognizing disabled people's right to engage with your work.

accessibility isn’t optional !!

[ohmystaxk]

For there is beauty | Chapter One: What is science, if not risks?

[MASTERLIST] | [NEXT]

Tags/Warnings: Time Travel, Jayce is a Sweetheart, Jayce and Reader are childhood friends, Idiots in Love, Reader has a backstory, Undercity!Reader, Cait is Jayce and Reader's little sister, Protective Jayce, Jayce's Love Language is Physical Touch, Mutual Pining, Viktor-centric, Sassy Viktor, Viktor Needs a Hug, Viktor has a crush on Reader, Accidental Fake Dating, Miscommunication, Slow Burn Jayce/Reader/Viktor, Eventual Jayce/Viktor, Reader is greedy, Smut, Slow Romance, Romance, Canon Related, Possible AU timelines, Fluff, Angst, Reader has parents, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Not Beta Read

Summary: Life was simple. You woke up each morning, and walked the streets of Piltover with Jayce by your side, joking and laughing while Cait could only roll her eyes at the two of you. You worked hard on your research and studied double as much at the Academy to prove your worth. Each day was the same, but that was until you crossed paths with Professor Heimerdinger's assistant at the library one day. His name escaped you, but that never stopped your curiosity for the man. Viktor, he said his name was. And you left the library with that, not expecting to cross paths with him again.

It was then the nightmares began, dreadful glimpses of a world you wish to never exist. A world empty of life, happiness, and freedom. But they were only that, nightmares, nothing more. So why did they feel so vivid? So real, and tangible?

N/A: hello everyone! just like everyone else, I folded and started writing for arcane. I have only watched the show, so my knowledge is ONLY from it! english is not my first language, so I apologize for any mistakes you might encounter along the way.

I currently have 3 chapters written for the fic and I cannot wait to show them to all of you!

I have created playlists that I encourage you to listen to while reading (spotify, yt music and apple music) this fic!

spotify yt music apple music

I will also be uploading this to my ao3: @ohmystaxk

Track List: 1.Breakfast with Lou 2.Bewitched 3.Cinnamon Girl

The warmth was the first thing you noticed, something almost comforting. You let out a breath you were not aware you were holding in the first place. The blood in your body rose to your head as something touched your forehead; that same warmth now replaced your blood, running down every vein, clinging to each cell. It was becoming one with you.

“We were always one .” A voice, distorted and unfamiliar, spoke.

Your heart is empty of blood, only pumping warmth. Your chest is heavy, your lungs chasing for that last bit of air.

“Do not be afraid.” The touch on your forehead shifted to your cheek. “I am right here with you.”

You wanted to open your eyes, look around, and find where that voice originated. You tried to turn your head around, but the touch on your cheek moved to your chin, holding your face in place. Even when the touch was demanding, you did not feel threatened.

“Soon, you will see. ” The voice was different, almost that of a woman. “Truly see what has been hiding underneath. It is time for you to go back. ”

Your body suddenly regained its bearings, jolting you awake as you gasped. The morning light blinded you, forcing your eyes to close once again. Your heart beating worryingly fast, your head felt heavy, and your body tingled. The sound of faraway voices made your head snap towards it, your brows furrowed as footsteps crept closer your way. Then a knock came from the door of your bedroom.

“Are you awake? Did you stay up too late again?”

When you recognized the voice, you pushed the comforter away and stood up from your bed. Your head spun, and your vision went blurry. Suddenly, your knees hit the floor.

Your door flew open.

“Hey, what's wrong?” A pair of hands touched you, one on your back and the other on your forearm. “What happened?”

You grabbed your head with one hand, frowning from the buzzing feeling.

“I don’t think I’m feeling too good right now, Jayce.” Looking up to meet his eyes, you only saw worry in them.

“Yeah, no kidding.” He scoffed awkwardly.

He moved his hand on your arm towards your elbow while the other took your waist.

With some effort, he helped you stand up, walking you back to your bed.

“How did you get in?” You asked once you sat back down at the edge of the mattress.

“I remembered where you keep the spare key.” Jayce stood in front of you, his eyes looking around your room.

“Is everything alright?” You heard a voice coming from somewhere in your apartment.

“Did you bring Cait here with you?” You asked the man with a whisper, eyebrows raised in surprise.

“Yeah, she wanted to come over to the workshop again.” Jayce crouched, amber eyes taking in your features. “Cait!” He called out to the girl.

“Yes?” She answered quickly, a bit of a tremble in her voice.

“Could you bring me a glass of water, please?”

“Oh...Yes!” You then hear the girl walk to what you knew to be your kitchen.

“Hey.” You looked back at Jayce, not realizing you had started to space out. “What are you feeling? Do you need us to take you to a clinic?”

“No-. Just…I’m just a bit dizzy, that’s all.”

Caitlyn entered the room, glass of water in hand as she eyed you. It was a similar look to the one Jayce was giving you.

“Thanks, Cait.” Jayce looked over his shoulder, and the girl walked over and handed him the glass.

“Are you alright?” She hugged herself, head tilted to the side.

“I will be, just a minute.” You sighed, bringing your hand to your temple.

“Here.” Jayce gently handed you the glass, keeping his hand on yours. “I still think we should take you to a clinic.”

“You look pale.” Cait pointed out, leaning against the small dresser in your room.

“I’ll be fine, I promise.” You rolled your eyes, scoffing as you finally took the glass and drank from it.

“Did you feel like this last night?” Jayce held the glass for you once you finished the water.

“No. I felt fine. I think…” Your mind wonders about your strange dream, and how it made you feel.

“What is it?” Jayce leaned closer, tilting his head to catch your gaze.

“I had a strange dream. It startled me. I felt just like I did now; I was dreading something.”

“What was it?” Cait asked, curiosity getting the best of her.

“I don’t know, my eyes were closed the entire time. I just heard a voice.”

Jayce frowned. He placed a gentle hand on your knee before he stood up.

“I think I will take Cait back to her house. I’ll come back with something for you to eat-.”

“No, I’m already feeling better, Jayce.” You stood up, your legs giving you the support you needed.

“You don’t have to exert yourself.”

“I’m not.” You looked at the man with a smile. “Besides, Cait and I know you will barely get things done if I’m not there to help.”

You gave his arm a quick squeeze. Then you walked towards your closet, opened it, and heard Jayce take a few steps.

“We can work on it once you feel better.”

“I feel better, Jayce.” You looked over your shoulder. The man sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I’m going to change and then we can head out.”

“Just-...Yell if you need anything.” He stepped back, then turned around, heading to the door. “Come on, Cait.”

The two of them walked out of the room, closing the door behind them.

You let out a heavy sigh, your hands going to your face. It was true that you were not feeling great, but you were feeling better than before. You stayed up late the night before, reviewing notes from Jayce's project, while also studying for your research paper. You had also forgotten to eat anything, perhaps that had affected you now.

Walking through the streets of Piltover alongside Jayce and Cait had become a bit of a routine for the three of you. Since Counsellor Kiramman had acquired the lab for Jayce, Caitlyn had started tagging along. Especially after she heard about your and Jayce’s projects. Cait was curious, always wanting to help the two of you with whatever was necessary. 

She seemed to enjoy watching you correct Jayce’s work, or talk to her about engineering and the theories for your research paper. It was funny really; two people in their twenties hanging out with a teenager, who they saw like a little sister. The truth was, Caitlyn, reminded you a lot of Jayce all those years ago. 

You opened the front door of your home, sunset had started to set by the time you arrived. You took off your bag and let it fall by the entrance, voices came from the kitchen, and you looked up to find your mother seated on the dining table, a woman across from her as the two laughed. Your mother’s gaze fell on you, a bright smile on her face as she widened her eyes.

“There you are! How was school, baby?” She stood up and gently placed the mug she had in hand on the table. “Come here, I want you to meet someone.”

You slowly approached the table, the other woman turned on her chair, and she smiled once she saw you. Her hair was a dark brown, almost black. Her eyes were light brown and she had a pretty mole next to her right eye.

“Oh, isn’t she adorable?” The woman said. Your mother met you halfway, placing a hand on your shoulder and the other between your shoulder blades, nudging you towards her.

“Say hi, baby.” Your mother brushed a strand of hair behind your ear.

“Hello,” Your voice was small, just above a whisper. You played with your hands.

“Hello, your mother was just telling me about you. I’m Ximena, a friend.” She extended her hand to you, and with a trembling hand, you took it. “Oh, you are a bit shy. Please don’t be.”

“Ximena is a friend of your dad and me. She has a son your age, and we wanted the two of you to get to know each other.” Your mother explained with a smile. “Now, take a sit while I serve you dinner, you must be hungry by now.”

Your mother gently directed you towards the table, you took a seat and watched Ximena as she adjusted herself on her chair.

“Oh yes, my boy should be here any minute now. I believe the two of you go to the same school, but he is a year older than you, sweetheart.” At that you frowned, wondering who her son was out of all the boys in your school.

“Okay.” That was the only thing you could reply with. Under the table you kept playing with your hands, your nails picking at the skin.

“You didn’t tell me how school was? Did the professor grade the painting yet?” Your mother asked, your nails dug deeper into the flesh.

“I-it was okay. She liked it.”

“I’m glad she did! I told Ximena how hard you have been working on the art project.” You bit your lip, your vision blurring as you picked even more at the skin.

A knock came from the front door. Ximena stood up from her chair, fixing her skirt as she walked to the door.

“Must be my boy.” She said, you did not look up, your eyes focused on the markings on the table.

The door opened, and you tuned out the voices, your lips quivering as your vision became blurry. Your heart was heavy on your chest, and the next thing you knew, you heard your mother call your name.

In front of you was a boy, and his honey eyes were so bright and shiny. He smiled at you, a tooth gap on his front teeth. But his smile failed him, his brows furrowing as he looked at you.

“Sweetheart,” It was Ximena who spoke. “Are you alright?” You could hear the worry in her voice as you quickly stood up and ran to your room.

You shut the door behind you, falling face-first on the mattress as you started sobbing into the pillow. The door opened and you felt the weight shift the mattress someone sat down next to you.“What’s wrong?” Your mother brushed your hair away from your face. “Did something happen?”

You shook your head, sobbing even more. Your mother ran her fingers through your hair, traveling down to soothe your back.

“You know you can tell me anything, baby.”

“T-they they ri-pped the paint-ing.” You struggled in between sobs. Your mother immediately pulled you closer to her, hugging you tightly.

“Who did?” Your mother spoke at the top of your head.

“T-hey said I w-was an Under-city r-rat.” You cried even harder into the crook of your mother’s neck.

After your mother calmed you down and assured you the kids were wrong, she left you in your room to get you food. You lay in your bed, curled up as you traced the patterns on the wall.

“Did you paint those?” You quickly sat up on your bed, your head snapping to the door, standing there was Ximena’s son. His gaze was on one of the paintings on one of the walls of your room.

“M-my mom and me.” You replied, and your voice came out hoarse and small.

“And this one?” He pointed at another one, you now were by the edge of the bed, your legs barely touching the floor.

“Me.” When you said that, he turned to face you. Your face was puffed up, your eyes red from crying.

“I like it.” He said, and the boy walked up to you, he sat down on the bed next to you. “My name is Jayce.” You told him your name, and he smiled at you. “You have a pretty name.”

It was later you two shared your curiosity for science and inventions. You two finally found things in common; Magic, science, art, and literature. It was those moments that had led to your friendship of twelve years .

“Like I said, I was reviewing my notes.” You rolled your eyes. Jayce walked right beside you, your shoulders brushing.

“And are you sure to went straight to bed?” He leaned down a bit, wanting to see your face as you held the strap of your bag tightly. “Did you eat anything?”

“Well-.”

“I knew it!” He snapped his fingers, pointing forward as you tilted your head away with a sigh, closing your eyes. “I told you we could stop by and get some dinner.”

“I wasn’t hungry…” You looked at him.

Jayce’s hair was neatly styled. You could smell his aftershave as he leaned over, his arm reaching your right shoulder, pulling you closer to him.

“Aren’t you the one always reminding me to eat? Especially when I don’t want to.”

“You do always remind him.” Cait shimmed in. When you look to your right to narrow your eyes at her, she simply shrugs.

“Thanks, Cait.” Jayce now wrapped his arm over your shoulders, pulling you even closer. “Which is why we are grabbing a bite before we head to the studio.” You threw your head back.

“I need to stop by the library first.” You glanced up at Jayce, his amber eyes narrowing. “Just remembered that I need to get some books.”

“Right now?” He asked with a pointed look.

“Might as well, the library is right across.” You pointed with your eyes at the massive building across the street.

Jayce slowed down his steps, making you slow down as well.

“Your research paper?” He asked.

“Yeah.” You gave his chest a quick pat and pulled back a bit, his arm sliding over your back before he too pulled away. “I still need to finish the draft before I can start working on the actual paper.”

You adjusted the weight of your bag.

“Think you feel better to head on your own?” Jayce scratched his head, eying you as you laughed.

“Don’t worry, if I need a big strong man to help me, I’m sure I can find one there.” You slapped his arm with the back of your hand. Jayce rolled his eyes, scoffing at the comment. “I won’t stay long, how about you start heading over and grab me something to eat? I’ll see you two in a few.”

“You want the same thing from yesterday?” He asked as you were already starting to walk away.

“Sure, sounds good. Cait, keep an eye on this one, don’t let him wander off with strange women.” You smiled at the girl, and Cait simply laughed with a nod.

“I-. I don’t wander off!” He called out once you started crossing the street.

“Didn’t hear you deny the last part though!” You laughed as you ran, holding your bag tightly.

The Piltover library was massive, with three floors and an impressive collection, even containing two extra lower levels for more restricted books and archives. You immediately went to the second floor, walking past tall bookshelves. The sunlight was casting different colors due to the stained glass from the windows. Then you took a turn, finding the section you were looking for. You stopped when you saw that someone was standing at the other end. He had brown hair and a strong nose, his focus deep in a book. The man leaned on a cane, the light filtering from the stained glass casting a yellow glow on him.

With a thud, he closed the book he was reading. He placed the book back on the shelf, his eyes looking at the spines. You recognized him as Professor Heimerdinger's apprentice; his name escaped you. 

You fixed your bag, and you focused on the book titles closest to you, trying to see if you could find what you were looking for. But with every two books you looked at, your eyes could not help but glance towards him.

You had always seen him around the academy, always on his own. Whenever you saw him, he would be reading a book or writing something down in his notebook. You had asked about him out of curiosity a good number of times to other students, they also seemed to barely know anything about him. Then there were a couple that mentioned how his mysteriousness was rather, attractive. But the only thing that everyone seemed to agree on was that he was… gifted . He had to be if he had caught the attention of the Dean.

Without knowing, you were already standing shoulder to shoulder next to him. You accidentally bumped into him.

“I’m sorry!” You immediately uttered, your eyebrows shooting up and your face burning hot. “I was distracted.”

He already had another book in hand. He looked your way, seemingly also surprised. His eyes scanned you, falling on your eyes before he spoke.

“No need to worry.” He said with an accent you didn’t quite recognize, it sounded nice. “I didn’t see you.” It suits him.

The man took a step to the side to create some distance between the two of you.

“Sorry.” You said more quietly, your eyes glancing back and forth between him and the shelves.

As you tried your best to compose yourself, your eyes caught sight of a book you were looking for. You looked at him, making sure you were not in his way, and reached for it.

“Excuse me, going to grab this.” You called out. 

You needed to finish the research paper, three months had gone by so fast that trying to meet the deadline felt almost impossible.

Once you picked it up, you noticed a few more and quickly grabbed them. You stepped back with your stack of books and turned around, heading back to the main hall. 

That was until you heard his cane and feet shift.

“Those are about Astrophysics.” The man suddenly spoke again. Your eyes widened as you stood in place. “Is it curiosity or for research?”

 You looked over your shoulder, your eyes meeting with his bright amber eyes; they were similar to Jayce’s, but perhaps they were a bit lighter.

“B-both.” You were caught off guard. After many years and countless times of seeing him around the Academy; this was the first time you had interacted with him.

“Um.” He gave a quick nod. His eyes shifted towards your books before meeting your gaze once more.

“It’s research. For my final.” You fixed your posture, your body turning to face his.

“I have…seen you before, in the academy.” He stated, shifting his weight on the cane more comfortably.

“Yes, I’m part of the Engineering department.” You put the weight of the books on your hip. “Or I was. I was part of Professor Heimendinger’s lecture last summer.”

“Oh.” He’s eyebrows rose a fraction. “I remember now. You sat close to the middle row.”

You remembered when you and Jayce had arrived at the lecture for the first time. How excited he was, talking your ear off as the two of you sat down. You remembered how dark the auditorium always was, except for the chalkboard and the podium the Professor stood. It became a habit to always sit in the same spot, not out of preference, but it just did. Sometimes whenever someone decided to take those two spots, you and Jayce would jokingly say things like ‘ The audacity. ’ or ‘ We should start carving our names on the desk at this point. ’

It was then you remember seeing the assistant in the corner of the room many times, almost like he was hiding in the shadows. You would meet his eyes on occasion, even in the dark you were always impressed by how bright his eyes seemed to shine.

“Yes.” You let out a chuckle. Your eyebrows furrowing. How did he remember that? “And you are the Professor’s assistant.”

His eyes fell on your hips, taking note of your posture. “I am, yes.”

“How did you get the offer?” You fixed the hold on the books. “That’s a very big opportunity.”

“My charms I believe.” He shrugged. You smiled as you let out a laugh.

“Oh yes, those are very important.” You took a step forward. “Every inventor needs them.”

“Not everyone has those.” He grinned as he placed back the book he was holding on the shelf.

“Do I?” You played along.

He stopped his hand, his fingertips brushing the spine of the book. He raised an eyebrow, amber eyes staring at yours with curiosity.

“Um.” He eyed you. “What is it that intrigues you the most? Astrophysics or Engineering?”

You scoffed and rolled your eyes. What a charmer , you thought.

“Why not both?” You tilted your head to the side with a grin.

He nodded with a smile. You noticed the moles adorning his cheek and upper lip.

“Well, what is it about Astrophysics that made you want to pursue it?”

“The many unanswered questions space holds from us; about gravity, the sun, and the moon. But I didn’t get into Astrophysics for that only. I am searching for something more, something out there in the universe.”

“Which is?” He took a step forward.

“Magic.” You answered breathlessly. “Time, space, the possibility of actions and consequences. What other possibilities those could have led to.”

“Time travel.” He answered, his eyes widen a fraction.

“Multiple timelines possibly coexisting within the same plane. I believe the Arcane is capable of that.”

He looked at you, his eyes shifting between yours and the books still resting on your hip.

“The Arcane is wild magic…not something science could master.”

“You’re right, but I believe science could help us understand magic.” You started talking with your hand. “I’m not thinking of bending the Arcane to science’s will. But I wish to find an understanding.”

The two of you stood there in silence. The noise of people speaking and walking around soothing your nerves. It had been your dream that had connected you with Jayce, the mutual understanding of what magic could do and the wonders it held.

“Those types of ideas could get you expelled from the Academy.” If he had spoken those words with a serious tone, it would have scared you. Instead, he still held curiosity in his eyes. “But what is science, if not risks?”

You let out a breath you did not know you were holding in. You frowned.

“Are you going to tell the Professor?” You watched him soften his eyes.

“I’m his assistant, not his whisperer.” He grinned and you could not help but let out a nervous laugh.

“I have to go…” You held his gaze. “It was nice to finally talk to you.”

“Likewise.” He smiled at you. You felt your cheeks suddenly heat up. “You have a great mind.”

“Thank you…” You were going to say his name when you realized you could not remember it. 

“Vik tor .” You felt a sudden touch in the back of your head. Your eyes narrowed for a second, you could’ve sworn you heard his voice change. “You can call me Viktor.”

“T-Thank you, Viktor.” You gave him your name, taking a step back as you slowly started retreating. “I will go now.”

You turned around and started heading to the hall. Your heart started beating fast once more. Perhaps, you were still having side effects. Or the Academy was making you begin to lose your mind.

Want to be tagged when a new chapter drops? Tag yourself!

[lxdymoon0357]

hi beautiful !

Can i ask yandere calisto(of death only waiting for vilainess) with a lapileon reader of my in law are obssesef with me(she have cursed blood)

(warnings: blackmailing, poisoning, forced marriage, forceful harvest of body parts (your blood), murder,manipulation, verbal abuse, mentions of suicide.)

© Writing belongs to me, Lxdymoon0357. Do not plagiarize, but reblogging, liking and commenting is deeply appreciated.

Yandere! Callisto Regulus X Lapileon! Reader

◙ Callisto is a very dangeranged and protective man, everyone knows about him. Especially you, one of the darling children from the great noble yet very secretive Lapileon family filled with the genetics of red eyes and quiet and reserved demeanors, though not from Eorka empire exactly, but rather from the midlands in between Eorka empire and the nearest other empire.

◙ Your quiet and reserved demeanor is what caught his attention to you in the first place, your family and you didn't regularly attend, you kept to yourselves and you all were VERY MODEST as compared to the trends of the empire which came and went by, always covering every part of your skin.

◙ Of-course it's not long before he tries to become your acquaintance, getting closer to your brother, Therdeo, and eventually you. Forming alliance, he takes the chance to court you. It's not hard considering it would be rude to deny the crown prince, wouldn't it? I believe it would almost deplete your image if you denied him, though of-course he would say no pressure in marrying him.

◙ I imagine it was an utter mistake he learnt of the family's secret. He forcefully entered on one of those days where you got so sick, you were bleeding and vomiting blood and the very few were trying to force him out, but he entered nonetheless and he demanded as to why you're not having anyone and why you're so nervous and everything.

◙ He figured he stumbled on something which will help him tie you down to him. And he was all too glad about it. Of-course you had to admit your family secret and he used it tie you with him, claiming he will make sure nothing can happen and also suggesting to use your blood to help the empire, which you of-course denied as it was family rules to never use your blood as a method of killing.

◙ Of-course it resulted in anger and him blackmailing to kill your entire family and reveal your secrets so no Lapileon ever in the world would be safe, as everyone would be thrown into the severed lines of being "demonic". And you of-course didn't want it, he knew..

◙ Of-course that's why within 5 months of courting, you got married to him, he says it's true love between you two!~ How cute, a reserved noble and boisterous crown prince together, a sight to behold really!! Of-course they don't have to know what goes on behind the scene

◙ Constant beration of your family, telling you how they were isolating you..Harvests your blood for the sole purpose of bettering his immunity incase you one day try to kill him off, he couldn't afford that. Imagine leaving his darling spouse behind!

◙ He adores you so much, he gets you the most gorgeous red coloured jewels to match your red eyes, the most prettier red dresses, red shoes, red metallic hair accessories..everything to match your gorgeous red eyes that he adores so much.

◙ He doesn't get mad often at you, but of-course days exist when something ticks him off, he blackmails you by threatening to reveal family secret and does reveal it to some servant for a while and then later on kills off the servant when he cools down and realized how hurt you must be!

◙ Of-course some days you somehow manage to piss him off, it might result in blood splatter to kill off a few servant or verbal abuses thrown your way, of-course you're just so idiotic that you don't even know what's good for you! He's doing this for your betterment and you have the audacity to even think of someone other than him? Of annoying him, of being ungrateful to him?! He's your fucking husband, you idiot. You're just such an idiot, it would sometimes been better that you don't exist!

◙ Of-course he never means those words, darling! What are you talking about? He never meant it, t was just in anger and heat of the moment. After berating you, verbally abusing you or even hitting you once or twice in anger, he couldn't control..he does love you at the end of the day, cuddling upto you, checking to make sure you don't have a cut anywhere he would hate to see you upset if you accidentally killed someone!

[doberbutts]

You've captured my frustration exactly with the "the issue is they're ignorant of these nuances in the first place".

Our discussion of our own oppression and how to move forward with freeing those trapped from the clutches of bigotry *cannot* move forward until the denial that we're even worth talking about has ceased. Of course theory has stagnated, of course it has become mired in bad faith and worse actors, when it seems like the only thing we can do is repeat again and again and again that this *does* happen to us.

It becomes tiring, to reach out your hand in solidarity and as a show of mutual support and respect, only to be spat on and smacked away. To be told "this doesn't happen to you and if it did it wasn't as bad as when it happened to me". Or "you have no place in this conversation with political effects that directly impact you". Or "it's good actually that this terrible thing happened to you because technically they respected you while hurting you". All the while the noose tightens and tightens and tightens as we kick and struggle and flail to get it off, we didn't tie the knot in the first place.

And the kicker to all this is that *that* isn't even a "unique" experience, because I've just described what happens to not only various marginalized genders but also many other marginalized demographics outside of gender. Trans women deal with this all the time! So do nonbinary people, and intersex people, and people who are cis but GNC, and gays and lesbians and bisexuals and Asians and Arabs and Jews and and and and-

That's WHY I hold my hand out in solidarity. I have more in common with other marginalized experiences than what appears on the surface, than what's assumed because of the labels which describe my identity.

As you know, I am a big fan of black activism especially considering I owe my very existence to it, and that is indeed how the Civil Rights Movement got so much shit done. It wasn't just peaceful marches and I Have A Dream. We locked arms in solidarity, we showed up for other causes, we made a unified front against our oppressors. Did we fix everything? No. But we put enough pressure on the political powers that be that many things did improve, while we also were deemed too powerful to exist to the point of FBI smear campaigns and neighborhood bombings.

There is *power* in numbers. When you are able to look at someone who is totally different from you and yet has also suffered to get where they are, and you are able to find common ground with them? That is what bigots fear. Because we prove to them that there are more of us than they can account for, and we *will* improve our lives whether they give it willingly or not.

I also think that when I see people demanding a *unique* oppression, that they are asking for something impossible and also are very much misunderstanding intersectionality in the first place.

I don't believe any oppression is truly unique. I do think there are faces of oppression that change with the demographic, but more likely than not you as Oppressed Group X have way more in common with Oppressed Group Y than you might think.

But also, Crenshaw's original paper on intersectionality discussed a specific context: black women being skipped over for hire where black men and white women were both getting hired, making that specific context unique to the intersection of black womanhood.

People get skipped over for jobs they are more than qualified for all the time. Even within the paper itself, there is discussion about this happening to black men and white women at other companies, just that this specific company was excluding specifically black women from its pool of candidates due to their specific bias against black women.

Experiencing workplace discrimination and hiring discrimination is not at all unique to black women. The *context* was. It was not "just racism" because black men were being hired, and it was not "just misogyny" because white women were getting hired. It was the intersection of both that resulted in black women being excluded.

When a trans man states that he is being removed from, say, a reproductive rights conversation and it's happening specifically because he is a trans man, what's meant shouldn't be that no one else struggles with reproductive rights. It means that it's not happening to the cis women who are actively leading the conversation, nor is it happening to the cis men who are pitching in. It is, however, happening to anyone with a uterus who is deemed as too "gender devient" to count: trans men, trans women, intersex people, and nonbinary people. Albeit, for different reasons, and the face of which changes depending on the demographic of the person receiving it.

But the conversation around reproductive rights is also one that must include disability, must include race, must include sexuality, must include class, must include age, because these things also have a direct effect on discrimination within the medical field and whether someone truly has access to the autonomy needed to make reproductive choices of their own without others choosing for them.

Similar to how we can understand the context provided in Crenshaw's coining of intersectionality to examine how black women specifically were experiencing something that neither black men nor white women were victim to within that specific example, so too must we understand that these are contextual and circumstantial conversations that will not always be truly unique.

After all, black men and white women do both get rejected for jobs on account of race and gender. Cis women and other marginalized genders frequently must battle for their right to make their own reproductive choices.

But when someone says "this happened to me due to the combination of my race and my gender", we must understand that likely the combination, the intersection, created a unique scenario that cannot be understood by only examining a single piece of that person's identity. So, too, must we understand the same when someone says "this happened due to the combination of my transness and my gender".

So when I see a challenge to name something unique from someone also flinging around the "learn intersectionality" phrase at those who are trying to describe the things that happened to them that hurt them, all I can think is that clearly that person does not understand interaectionality. Nor have they ever actually read the words of the woman who coined it. She's still alive. Her TED talks are on YouTube. Many of her essays are online for free.

Finally, I must remind these people that Crenshaw is not the woman who coined misogynoir, and while both Crenshaw's and Bailey's theories do work in conversation with each other, being discussed by different people does mean there is not a 1-to-1 basis to compare them to. There will be disagreements and inconsistencies between the two because they are two different people.

[fuctacles]

Dude, That's My Ghost!

A @steddieexchange fic for @hellfireloserclub !! I hope you like it. The whole first chapter is up on Ao3.

E | ~9k | no cw | Soulmates AU, Supernatural Elements, Magical Bonds, Ghost Sex, No UD, Magical Bonds | more tags on Ao3! | beta read by @blasvemous <3

Disappearing Act

The Universe is an amazing creation. In its vastness, it gives you a Soulmate, so you don't feel alone despite your brief and meaningless existence. It may not be perfect, but it's thoughtful, and that's more than you can say about its inhabitants.

And yet, in this benevolent Universe, there is Steve Harrington.

"Ah."

He's standing in front of a guy, their hands outstretched and bare, their Soul-marks visible. At least what's left of them. 

Steve watches in horror as the swarm of bats moves around his skin in panic, vanishing one by one as if sucked into his body. They've been with him for years and now they're just... gone.

When he looks up at the man he's just met, the nail bat on his forearm has vanished as well. He looks more surprised than terrified, though, twisting his arm curiously.

"Well..." He purses his lips. "I'm sorry, mate." He shrugs. "It was nice meeting you."

And before Steve can grab him, or collect himself at all, the man disappears into the crowd. He doesn't feel anymore the tether that helped him find the man in the first place. It's all gone. The Soul-mark, the connection, his Soulmate. Who was clearly right in front of him just a minute ago.

What the fuck had just happened?

Nobody has an answer for him. As far as he knows, it has never happened before, ever. Steve Harrington must be just a special kind of fucked up, hated by the universe. Destined to be unloved. Even though for a brief moment, he wasn't. For a second, he felt whole, with his Soulmate right in front of him, within reach of his hand, but as soon as their palms touched... it disappeared.

There are people without them, but no one whose mark would vanish, like a candy yanked out of a kid's hand. And every day Steve wonders, why him? In a world where everyone was leaving him, where having someone tied to him was his only hope, the only chance for love, why him?

He had left that music festival, where he met the man supposedly destined for him, right after, to grieve his loss in the solitude of his apartment. It felt like a piece of his soul had been torn out and something inside him ached, open and bleeding, with no way to patch it up.

The taped boxes of Robin's stuff were like an additional kick in the gut. She was leaving him soon too, off to live with her soulmate, which she gets to have. He loves it for her, of course he does, but it was easier to do knowing there was someone out there for him as well.

To not think about it, he finally focused on what he's been putting away ever since Robin said she was moving in with Vickie. Looking for a new place, a one-person apartment for himself, and nobody else. It takes over a month, but when he finds it, he finds it. He knows it's the place he wants to call home.

It's shit. 

A small apartment carved from an unused attic space, perfect for a desperate single student. The bathroom barely fits a shower and a toilet and doesn't have any space left for a sink. He has to wash his hands in the kitchen, or the space that he's supposed to call one. It's a little far from college but in a pinch, he could cash in on Robin's promise that he's always welcome at her new place, which is just a short walk away from their school.

It's perfect.

Even if Robin asks him once if he's punishing himself for something that's not his fault, like a really weird interpretation of a martyr. But he just opens his tiny window and lets her listen to the birds from the park below. All she can hear from her windows are the honking cars and yells of the students trying to get the best parking spot. And that's a point for the 'you rule' column as far as he's concerned.

The place has one more perk she doesn't know of and he's not sure which column it would classify in.

Because he's sharing it with a ghost.

It's almost alarming how quickly he accepts it. One day he's listening to music to unwind, and the next he finds a note on his desk telling him his taste in music is shit.

"Hello?" he asks to the room as a whole. Nobody could hide there. There simply wasn't enough space.

His eyes widen when his pen moves.

You won't see me, it writes. Can you play a rock station?

Steve only blinks.

"Uh, sure," he says, staring at the pen. "Do you know the frequency?"

He gets a few numbers in response and reaches for the dials of the radio to set it up. Soon, a song he doesn't recognize fills out the cramped space.

"This okay?"

Yes. Thank you so much.

Thoughtfully, Steve pulls out a notebook and opens it on a blank page.

"Are you a ghost?" he asks, staring at the faint blue lines.

What's a ghost, Steve? appears the message, slightly crooked despite the clear guidelines. The handwriting somehow fits the vibe of the music playing from the radio. 

"How do you know my name?" he frowns at the words.

It's all over your books?

"Fair," Steve huffs, sitting heavily by his desk. "I don't know, a dead person?" he answers the previous question.

Well, I didn't die. So. Not a ghost I guess.

"Then what?"

What's left when your body is taken away from you?

Steve's frown deepens. What is this, an impromptu quiz test?

"Uh, a soul?"

Then that's what I am, probably.

"So where's your body?" Steve asks, perplexed.

Some asshole demon took it.

"A demon?" he asks flatly, raising his eyebrows.

You're talking to a floating pen and the demon is what's unbelievable?

"Well, I'm sorry I'd rather not believe demons exist!" Steve scoffs, throwing his arms up.

Sorry to break it to you buddy but they do. And I've learned it the hard way.

"Yeah, I can tell," he murmurs.

Don't be sassy with me, I'll break all your mugs.

"We're not summoning a demon."

"Okay, sheesh. No need for violence." Steve rolls his eyes. "So, what happened?"

"We're not summoning a demon because they don't exist," Jeff elaborates.

"How about some make-believe, hm?" Eddie puts his hands on his hips, clearly disappointed in his bandmates. "A bonding activity to boost morale?"

"You know what would boost morale?" Gareth points his drumstick at him. "Band practice."

"Fine!" Eddie throws his hands in the air. "I'll do it myself, but don't cry later when I'll be the only one blessed by the metal gods!"

"We won't," Doug assures him dryly.

"So it's gods or demons after all? Can't pick a side?"

Eddie flips them off with both hands before grabbing his guitar. He knows they are right, though. Only practice and improvement can give them a chance at the next battle of the bands. They were already so close to winning this year and were slowly becoming recognizable in the city. Getting there was slow but reachable, which was not how Eddie usually does things.

That's why, even if it's just for the peace of his own mind, a spiritual placebo, if you will, he grabs himself a beer and pulls out his D&D notes. He did way too much research on demons for his last campaign not to have some fun with it.

The instructions are cheesy, but it's exactly what he needs—something in good fun and on theme, even if it was supposed to be a group activity. He copies all the symbols, and chants, and draws blood. With his eyes squeezed shut, he makes his wish.

"Whoever is listening, help my band make it big."

The old wooden beams creak with their age. Nothing happens.

He opens his eyes, blinking to clear his vision, and realizes he's relieved. Summoning an infernal being to his little attic apartment didn't sound as thrilling as he had been selling to his friends earlier that day. To be honest, he just wanted to do some weird metal shit with his band that they could later talk about in interviews. "We sold our souls for this album," would be a bonkers headline for the front page.

"That can be arranged."

Eddie shrieks.

He grabs tighter the knife he's still holding from his blood sacrifice and turns around. There on his bed, criss-crossed and relaxed, sits a creature of nightmares.

"What the fuck?!" Eddie's voice doesn't sound as deep and intimidating as he'd like it to.

"You summoned me," the intruder deadpans.

"Oh. Oh, right." It doesn't make him any less terrified. "Uh, what do you want?" he stammers, hoping to get the demon out of his space as soon as possible. He wants to call the boys, would love to hear Gareth's annoying voice right about now, actually.

"For your wish? I want in."

Eddie frowns.

"In?"

And then I held up my guitar and told him to hop in but he hopped into my body instead and here we are.

"You ever heard of a cursed instrument?"

Steve stares at the string of words. And stares. And stares.

I know I'm stupid you don't have to tell me.

"Oh thank god, because I didn't want to make you feel even worse."

He looks around the place and slowly points at the bed.

"So, that demon, was sitting on the same bed I slept in last night?'

Not on these covers, obviously, but yes.

"Holy shit." Steve feels himself shudder with cold dread. He knows all of this might be a lie, since there is no way for him to fact-check it, but the idea is disturbing enough. "And the summoning circle?" He looks down at the floorboards below his socked feet.

It was about here, but I guess the bastard cleaned it. Took all my shit with him too.

"So he's just living your life now?"

I'd guess so.

"Have you looked for him?"

Buddy the first thing I remember since then is waking up to you moving in

Steve frowns.

"What?"

Shit. What year is it?

"1986," he answers, his frown deepening.

Thank gods. Summer?

"September. The new semester just started. What the fuck, man, when did this happen?"

Spring break. Just a few months ago, apparently.

"That's half a year!" Steve points out. "And you were what, just, unconscious this whole time?"

Yeah. Maybe you helped, I don't know. Was someone else living here?

He shakes his head.

"I was told the previous tenant left without a word and they haven't even noticed at first."

Can't imagine a demon knowing the intricacies of renting an apartment.

It's normal for about two days, as far as living with a ghost can be. But it all spirals one night when Steve feels something touch him when he's trying to fall asleep.

Wait. What about my deposit?!

He jerks back in alarm and pulls back the covers but sees no stray items left there. Takes another look around, checking if something fell from the mattress, but sees nothing. He settles down against his pillow.

"Eddie?" he asks quietly.

He almost faints when the radio cracks to life. The dials switch and rotate and through the white noise of static, come bits of songs and voices until one breaks through.

"...what?..."

"This isn't happening..." Steve mutters to himself, eyes wide. "You could talk this whole time?!"

"...had no idea...you just...annoy me so much...had to speak up..."

"What the fuck, man?!"

"...let me sleep..."

"You sleep?!" He's fully awake now himself. "Why? What for?"

"...maybe you...drain my energy...with George Michael..."

"Fuck away from George Michael!" his voice cracks, now on the edge of hysterics.

"...you fuck away...was here first..."

"Yeah, and you fucked it up!"

Right after he says it, something falls on his chest, pinning him to the mattress.

"...low blow Steve..."

Steve blinks at the nothingness around him. On top of him. He feels no weight, no touch, but something isn't letting him move. His confused senses make his brain overheat.

"You can touch me?"

He feels the sting of a slap on his cheek, but he's too confused to feel pain.

"Ow?" is all he manages to say.

"...yup..."

The thing on top of him shifts, now off his chest but pinning him from the waist down, like someone is straddling him. He reaches up with his hands, searching for an invisible person.

"...don't...it feels wrong..."

"Sorry." He retracts his hand. Blinking rapidly as if it could give him an insight to the soul realm, he searches for any sign of thighs splayed over his body. "This is weird."

"...no shit..."

His palm, still raised, feels something soft and tingly, and his fingers spread like someone is slotting theirs in between. Steve feels something tighten in his chest, a longing he's been trying to bury deep inside.

"...can we...go back to sleep?..."

Steve lets out a short, surprised laugh.

"Are you kidding me? I don't think I've ever felt more awake than right now." Then, he frowns. "Have you been sleeping with me all this time?"

"...yeah?...there's only one bed..."

"Unbelievable," he murmurs to himself. The first time he shares a bed with a guy and it's a fucking ghost. Soul. Whatever.

"...you want me to...sleep on the floor?..."

"No," Steve groans, falling back against his pillow. "Just get off me and go to sleep."

Eddie doesn't leave, but he lets go of his hand. Something presses against his abdomen.

"...how about...I get you off?..."

"What?"

There's a pressure against his groin, someone's phantom butt cheeks grinding down on him. So much has been happening, that he hasn't even realized he woke up half-hard.

"No, it's alright—"

"...you sure?...you'll sleep like a baby..."

Steve lets out a surprised snort.

"That so, nurse Eddie?"

"...roleplay?...already?...you change mind quickly..."

"I was joking." Steve rolls his eyes, but Eddie grinds against him again.

"...I would make...a great nurse...I'm very caring...attentive..."

"That so?" Steve quirks his eyebrow, simultaneously telling his brain that he's not going to seek care and attention from the ghost in his apartment.

Though, on the other hand, he doesn't have a Soulmate anyway.

He just wishes there was a waist he could grab onto, a body he could feel, a smile he could see. But as Eddie brings him to completion, he realizes this is all he might be getting from life.

read more

thirst squad tags: @wheneverfeasible @phantomcat94

[ecstaticactus]

Fangs and Flames (Vampire!Aegon Targaryen x Witch!Reader x Vampire!Aemond Targaryen)

Chapter One: The Dinner

Summary: In a world of supernatural creatures, magic is no surprise. In fact, it is what defines you. As a witch, you feel like you have control over your life—until that day arrives. On their 21st birthday, everyone receives a golden envelope. No one knows where it comes from, and no one dares to question it. Inside lies the name of your destined soulmate, the person you’re meant to share the rest of your life with. For most, it’s a moment of wonder. But for you, it’s anything but magical. The moment they entered your life, both Targaryen brothers turned it upside down—though one of them seemed more determined to do so.

Word count: 3k

Chapter warnings: Language, modern AU setting, mentions of sex, Aemond is very much loved, Aegon being a menace

author's note: It's my first time writing a fanfiction and even though I struggled a lot the urge was too strong.. if the story's interesting enough I'd be happy to continue writing it! as you may notice those are not your typical vampires.. they can conceive and well, exist and function like normal human beings! They are immortal, though. feel free to ask questions, I'd love to discuss anything! english is not my first language, so I hope you keep that in mind.. any feedback, writing tip and criticism will be appreciated! hope you enjoy it as much as i've enjoyed writing it (no i was not stressed at all)

You don't know why everyone is making such a big deal out of it. When your mother came into your room and informed you about the dinner with guests coming over, you did not pay much attention to it. You supposed you would wear a pretty dress, put on a smile, make small talk with other ladies, and pretend you were interested in Westerosi politics. It is the routine you had mastered over the years, even if it is something you do not particularly enjoy. You never complain; you know it is your duty and a small price to pay for the privileged life you have. 

You are the daughter of the Prime Minister, the most powerful man in Westeros, and you are perfect. You have to be. It's what everyone has been telling you; it's what your parents have been expecting from you since you could remember yourself.

You enjoy the process of maids preparing you. They brush your hair, put scented oils in it, and curl it loosely, just the way you like it. When Mellory pulls out a dress from your closet, you smile and raise an eyebrow. It is stunning; a long dress adorned with dark green stones and deep V neckline, but surely it is extravagant for a dinner. She dismisses your point and assures you it is perfect for the occasion. You trust her judgment, but a question lingers: what makes this evening so different from the others? You can't think of anyone who is worthy of this special welcome.

The dining hall is lined with extra flowers, and you notice candles placed on the table, their soft glow casting a flickering light over the polished silverware. Despite the beaming smile on her face you know your mother is nervous. She is constantly touching her necklace, a habit you often display when you are overwhelmed. The maids seem to share her anxiety, repeatedly adjusting the silverware and ensuring everything is in perfect order. Still, you refrain from asking any questions—you would find out soon enough.

The first person to catch your eye is Alicent Hightower. Her auburn curls cascading down her back always fascinate you, no matter how many times you’d seen them. She compliments your mother's dress and the jewellery adorning her neck. Only then does her brown eyes find you and she lets out a small gasp, grasping both of your hands to tell you how precious you look. You know her kind words does not necessarily mean she is being sincere, but you blush nonetheless. Your father seems to be ecstatic seeing his old friend, Viserys Targaryen. You can't recall the last time you had seen him. He was not present for his youngest son's graduation and his health prevented him from attending lavish parties wealthy people often hosted. Yet, here he is. You suppose this indeed is a special occasion.

You feel someone staring at you and turn to find Aegon Targaryen eyeing you with his arrogant smile. You know him back from the academy, how could you not? It was impossible to ignore all the trouble he caused in your freshman year. Your friend Maria called him a leech, a creature who thrived on other's humiliation and pain. That is only thing firstborn son of Viserys is good at: not missing a chance to embarrass and vex others. He often teased you for a small crush you had on senior Rafe Cameron. There was even a time when Maria almost got into a physical fight with him. You had to pull her back, reminding her he wasn’t worth it. That is true. Everyone knows Aegon Targaryen is useless. He is little more than a waste of space, a burden on the planet. People who have crossed paths with him agree on it, including his parents. Luckily he is few years older than you and graduated before he had a chance to make your life miserable.

You presume the taller man with long hair braided behind his back is Aemond, the heir to the Targaryen dynasty. He studied in Oldtown and you never had a chance to meet him. He is beautiful, even with the scar on his left eye and stoic expression. While your parents entertain their guests, you sit on the couch with Aemond, sipping cherry liqueur and occasionally nodding at whatever he had to say. He is educated and well-mannered, but you can't help feeling bored. He is trying far too hard to appear polite and every time you attempt to steer the conversation toward something more fun, he shuts you down. It's as if he doesn't want you to get to know the real him.

"Oh, stop it brother, she does not give a shit about your philosophy professor" you had nearly forgotten about Aegon until he appeared with a drink in hand and plopped down on the couch beside you. You recall there is another thing he's good at: drinking and whoring around.

"Hold your tongue, Aegon"

"It's fine, really" you smile at younger brother, amused at the direction the conversation had taken "It's not like I think of him as someone whose reputation could be tarnished any more"

"Is that so? Do you think of me often?"

"Only on the rare times I'm feeling blue. I recall there are people more useless than I can ever try to be" you reply calmly, not even looking at him. You are good at pretending, even with the most insufferable people like the Lannisters, but you don't need to when it comes to Aegon Targaryen. Or perhaps you simply can't.

"Aren't you still feisty" he is not affected by your insult at all. It's a game he likes to play. "After all I don't think I'm that useless if the thought of me lifts your spirits. Maybe the thought of me also helps you.. mhm otherwise"

"Aegon" Aemond says his name like a warning or a plea. You can't exactly tell it from the expression he's wearing

"No, let him talk" you squeeze his knee in an attempt to let him know you're alright, that you can handle the white-haired man you're now facing. You don't know when he managed to get his glass refilled, but he's sipping on it with an unbothered face. His blue eyes are fixed on you, challenging you to bite back. "Every time he opens his mouth, I am reminded of how low the bar for wit has fallen"

Aegon chuckles, and just as he’s about to say something, you hear your mother calling your name, signaling that everyone should hurry to take their seats around the dining table. Aegon purposefully sits in front you but you refuse to give him the satisfaction of winning. You do your best to avoid looking at him and maintain a nonchalant look. Instead, you take small bites of your meal, listening to your mother and Alicent discussing the latest charity event. Suddenly, Viserys struggles to rise, barely managing to stand. Everyone falls silent, their eyes fixed on him, waiting to hear his announcement. Everyone except Aegon, whose gaze remains locked on you like you’re the dessert he’s about to devour. His stare, his unfaltering grin is unnerving you. Somehow you take it as a warning that something is about to happen. Something definitely unpleasant to you. You don't listen to Viserys until he mentions your name.

"How fortunate it is to know that gods decided to unite our families" his voice is cheerful, though his hands tremble slightly as he holds a glass of champagne "Your daughter's name has been written alongside my son's where no living man can interfere"

Suddenly all eyes are on you and you feel small. You glance at your mother with helpless look and she offers you a faint smile. Anger rises within you. The Targaryens are robbing you of the magical moment you’d been dreaming of since childhood. Your birthday is only a few months away, you were supposed to find it out yourself.

"Please, forgive me, my sweet girl" he is looking at you and you can sense the sadness in his voice "I know you wanted to see it yourself, everyone does, but.. I'm afraid my health does not allow me to wait any longer"

There is an awkward silence and from the corner of your eye you can see Alicent drop her head low. There was no love between them—not like how a husband and wife should love each other—but there was mutual respect and care. Viserys was a widower and while he experienced happy marriage with his first wife Aemma, Alicent had never been given the chance to marry. She was still a teenager when her betrothed, Criston Cole was murdered by a vampire. You suspected that's why Alicent never seemed to be proud of her powers while other vampires flaunted theirs with arrogance—her sons included.

"I want to see my son with his betrothed while I still have some time. I want to see him fall in love" he says, and then he attempts to laugh "Surely that can excuse my audacity"

"Nonsense, Viserys. I am happy our families will be united" your father stands up and places a reassuring squeeze on his shoulder "I cannot ask for better husband for my daughter"

Surely he cannot be talking about Aegon, but why is he looking at you from across the table like he owns you? You know he can hear your pulse quicken and he smirks at the effect he has on you. You desperately look at Aemond who does not say anything. You cannot tell what he's thinking.

Maybe it's Daeron. He is handsome, sweet and charming. You always got along well and you would not mind falling in love with him. But why isn't he here?

"May we know who the lucky sibling is?" your mother nervously chuckles and you notice that she's fiddling with her necklace. Your fingers instinctively move to your chest to find it empty.

"Aemond"

There. The answer you have been waiting for almost 21 years, but it does not excite you. It does not send shivers down your spine because it was not supposed to happen like this. It was supposed to be magical, like you've read in the books, like you've imagined it.

"May I see the letter?" you ask impatiently, and Aemond stares at you blankly for a few seconds before pulling out the golden envelope from his pocket. You snatch it away from his grasp, and the chair screeches against the floor as you rise to your feet.

"Excuse me" with a forced smile you leave the hall and step onto the terrace. You hold the letter, examining it closely. Across his name is yours, engraved in black ink. You touch it, as if trying to make sure it’s real. It is very much real, and in a few months, you will be married to Aemond Targaryen.

You begin to think about him but how can you judge a person you've known for only an hour? Everyone speaks of him highly, which is why Viserys named him heir, but what is he truly like behind the stoic expression? He’s a puzzle you’re desperately trying to solve, but you only have a few pieces.

"It's cold outside" you hear his voice and turn around to give him the letter. He tucks it into the pocket of his jacket as if it’s nothing—just a piece of paper.

"I've wanted to see it myself. Sorry if I came across as rude, I never thought you were lying"

"You don't have to explain yourself, I understand" you both lean against the railing, looking at the sky without speaking a word. This man next to you is supposed to be your other half, but to you, he's just a stranger.

"How long have you known?"

"More than a year"

"A year?" you don't know why you sound so shocked. Most people have to wait longer. You think of Aegon who is 24 years old, still not married. You wonder who the girl destined to exchange vows with him is "I don't think I could keep that kind of secret"

"I did not exactly have a choice, did I?" You can hear amusement in his voice and you can't help but smile.

Talking to him is awkward, you realize. There are so many questions you want to ask him, but the moment does not quite feel right. This whole situation does not feel right or real for now. You can't help but feel disappointed. You're not sure whether it's because of the circumstances or because the person who's supposed to be yours is Aemond. All you want is to take a long shower, crawl under the bed and pretend this day didn't exist.

The silence is comfortable, and as much as you don’t want to go back inside, it’s truly cold outside. Being the gentleman Aemond is, he wraps his jacket around your shoulders and leads you back inside.

Your parents seem to get along together just fine. Even Alicent is laughing at something your mother said. Viserys calls Aemond over, and when you notice your favorite bottle of cherry liqueur is empty, you make your way to the kitchen. Of course, the maids can bring it to you, but you use it as an excuse to be alone.

You're walking down the stairs with slow steps when you hear the giggling. The young blonde maid, Annabelle, if you recall correctly, is standing dangerously close to Aegon. He is caging her against the wall, whispering softly and despite the fact that she seems to be enjoying his company and it's not really your business, you can’t bring yourself to simply walk past them.

"Is everything alright?" You don't intend to, but you sound a little annoyed. Her smile fades into a frown and she opens her mouth to say something, but only mumbles few words before rushing back into the kitchen.

"Trying to play the hero? She was clearly enjoying herself" though his voice is as serious as ever, you know he’s not angry

"Well, I certainly would not enjoy you two having sex in my house"

"And I certainly do not enjoy you taking all the fun away from me" he is walking towards you, the smell of alcohol lingering on his breath "Keep in mind that just because you're miserable, it doesn't mean I have to be too"

"And who exactly says I'm miserable?"

"Have you looked in the mirror?" his smile is wide, mocking and you feel a strong urge to punch him in the face.

“Ever considered it’s because I’m forced to breathe in the same room with a pathetic creature like yourself?”

"Right, I'm pathetic" he steps even closer, far too close for your comfort, but you do not move "Yet you're standing here, wasting your precious time with me"

"I like to do charity work" satisfied with your response, you swiftly walk past him.

"Then you'll surely enjoy my brother"

His words stop you and you turn around to face him. No matter how little you know about him, Aemond is still your betrothed, and you will not allow anyone to disrespect his name, especially someone like Aegon.

"You truly are pathetic"

"Eh, is that all you can say?"

"About you? Oh, there's so much I can say. Nothing remarkable though" your tone is laced with venom. You’re done with this evening, and with him. "You think insulting your brother will change the fact that you're a complete failure? You think whatever flaws he has make you look better? Grow the fuck up, Aegon. No one thinks of you as anything more than a disgrace to the Targaryen name. You’re nothing. Just flesh and bones. A body, ready to be used and discarded the next day.”

He does not say anything, he does not have to. His pale blue eyes are almost dark and you know you've hit the right spot. Yet, to your surprise, it doesn’t give you the satisfaction you expected. You turn on your heel and move past him, but he pulls your arm back, almost whispering.

"You forget what I'm capable of"

"And what is is that you're capable of? Disappointing me?" he can’t do anything to you, not if he wants to continue roaming the earth, burdened by his own existence. "Have some dignity and let go of me"

"Think you know everything, huh?"

His gaze lingers on your neck, eyes drifting toward your carotid arteries, and you know he wants to taste you—devour you—until you stop screaming, fighting, breathing.

"Have fun putting the pieces of him back together"

You stand like that for a while before he removes his grip from you and resumes drinking whatever he had been holding.

You contemplate it for a while, but on your way to the kitchen you mutter a few words to yourself. Then you hear glass shattering and Aegon cursing your name. A faint smile curls your lips, and the maids glance at you suspiciously.

"I need more cherry liqueur"

They're happy to oblige your request. When you finally go back to the dining hall you don't look at Aegon and his stained shirt. Instead, your attention, like everyone else’s, turns to Viserys, who is frantically coughing. Alicent and Aemond try to help him up. Soon after, they leave, but not before your betrothed kisses the back of your hand and Aegon throws you a disgusted look.

You are laying in the bed, staring at the ceiling. Whatever effect alcohol had on you seemed to wash away under cold shower. You think of Targaryens but it's not Aemond that occupies your thoughts. You think of his brother and what you said to him. A wave of guilt consumes you. Perhaps you were too cruel? Your words were truthful, but they were harsh—even for someone like Aegon. You can’t shake his disgusted expression from your mind, and as sleep finds you, you dream of him.

He is clutching your waist, his hand pressed between your neck and shoulder, while you desperately claw at him, trying to push him away. His grip tightens, and every attempt to escape only seems to encourage him further. Tears stream down your face, and your breath quickens. The last thing you see is his bloodstained mouth. Then everything fades to black.

[thereoncewasagirlnamedjane]

deck the halls.

‣ pairing — ransom drysdale x f!reader

‣ contents — oneshot, coarse language, fluff, xmas/holidays, mutual disdain but it’s actually just mutual not-so-secret shameful pining

‣ synopsis — for the first time, you think that working for linda drysdale the night before christmas might not be such a bad thing after all.

‣ word count — 3.4k

‣ notes — tbh i’m not very happy with how this turned out but whatever, i’ve been stressing about this for way too long because it’s my first ransom fic, and i’m just done lol. shout out to @intrepidacious though for chatting with me about this fic all winter while i struggled, doing her best to motivate me and letting me vent my writing frustrations through the entire process. ilysm nika 💕

✩ read on ao3 ✩ janie’s masterlist ✩ library blog

Christmastime is here Happiness and cheer Fun for all that children call Their favourite time of yea—

You angrily jam the pad of your finger against the speaker’s power button, cutting off the quaint holiday music and plummeting Linda Drysdale’s normally busy real estate office into silence.

For someone who consistently prides themselves on being so sensible and logical, you sure can be stupid sometimes.

Because you drag a free office chair towards you, anchoring it against the wall as best as you can before climbing on top of it. You teeter precariously, cursing under your breath as you strain to loop a gaudy red and green garland over the push pins above the office doorway.

Linda, however, is even stupider, asking you to put up these god awful decorations before going home, not even providing you with so much as a step stool to do so—even though you obviously aren’t tall enough to reach on your own, even though she said you didn’t have to work overtime today (why, thank you Linda, considering it’s Christmas Eve and all), even though it was already 4:45 when she asked.

One phone call would be all it took to have OSHA crawling up her ass, but because you were only ever a badass in your own head, long after the conversation was over and there was no longer anything you could do about it, you just nodded meekly at your boss instead of telling her exactly where you thought she could shove her precious decorations.

Besides, she’d probably walk away with nothing more than a slap on her wrist anyway—if that.

“A bit to the left, Cindy Lou Who,” comes a voice, the low dulcet baritones that are the bane of your existence, like a persistent under-the-skin itch you can’t ever seem to scratch. You take a deep stabilizing breath upon hearing the nickname, a heat flaring in your cheeks that has nothing to do with the whiskey-spiked hot chocolates you’ve been secretly sipping all day.

You shoot him a withered glare over your shoulder. Ransom, the devil-spawn of your she-devil boss, is lounging lazily in your chair, leaning back with his arms casually linked over his abdomen as he observes your efforts to stay balanced and graceful.

Trust the smug little brat to show up tonight of all nights, when your patience is already wearing thin. No doubt he’s just here to piss you off before swanning over to the posh holiday party happening at his mother’s place tonight—one you’ve never been invited to despite all your years working for Linda, by the way—while you trudge home to a dark and empty studio apartment, with not even so much as a goldfish to welcome you back.

Ransom just smirks back at you through a mouthful of white chocolate chips and macadamia nuts, his hand already rummaging for another cookie from the package he’s stolen right out of the bottom drawer of your desk.

You release a huff of frustration.

There he sits, without a care in the world in his perfectly tailored wool coat and immaculately styled hair that somehow remains untouched by the howling winter wind outside, looking like he’s just stepped out of an issue of GQ.

He doesn’t deserve it, you lament, his coat already starting to pill at the undersides of the sleeves and his sweater probably just a tug at one loose strand away from unravelling completely.

Whoops. You almost fall off the chair for the fifth time since you started this ridiculous endeavour, trying to shake off the mental image of a very shirtless Ransom, tangled in a web of soft white yarn.

What? You can hate someone down to their grimy little bones and still think they’re hot.

Besides, the devil wouldn’t be the devil if he weren’t tempting, would he?

“A real piece of work… the both of you…” you mutter to yourself now, your colourful vocabulary back in full working order now that Linda is holed away in her office and well out of earshot. “She could cut me some slack, you know… Christmas, for crying out loud… and I haven’t eaten all day!”

The asshole nepo-baby just peers up at you past the phone he’s been holding up in front of his face, blinking lazily and not offering any kind of response or assistance—not that you’d expected him to.

“Right, I forgot who I was talking to,” you speak slowly and deliberately, like you’re explaining something rather complicated to a small child. “You see, us humans need to eat food regularly for sustenance.”

“Wow,” Ransom deadpans, his voice muffled through cookie crumbs.

“Yeah, it is terribly inconvenient,” you shrug exaggeratedly, “but not all of us can subsist on the shards of broken souls and children’s nightmares, can we?”

“Calling me the devil again?” He scoffs, rolling his eyes. “You’re so original; how about you get a new thing?”

“Don’t you have some place to be?” You sneer, your grip tightening on the garland, the plastic biting into your palms as you twist a string of fairy lights around the rest of it. “Why the fuck are you even here?”

It’s a perfectly valid question. Linda is always threatening to cut her son off, but that hasn’t prevented him from skipping out on work as much as possible and galavanting around the city, maxing out her credit cards every chance he gets.

But you know she’ll never actually follow through; He shows himself here just often enough to keep her from seriously considering it, doing his small part to show off a carefully crafted picture for the masses—showing the scions of Boston’s wealthiest family in a united front.

And if there’s one thing Ransom likes more than he hates his family or earning an honest wage, it’s the weight of green lining the deep but frayed pockets of his expensive designer pants.

That shiny Drysdale veneer is all that matters, after all, and you know very well that Ransom’s only real job is to keep it nice and polished. But you’ve been working long enough at this soul-sucking place to notice the telltale signs, to see the cracks beneath the varnish.

The way you swear you see a flicker of something that looks a lot like dread whenever Linda calls his name.

The way his signature smirk twitches with just a hint of irritation whenever some angry coworker, once again passed over for a long overdue promotion in favour of giving Ransom a hefty allowance bonus, calls him a talentless, hopeless, literal son of a bitch.

The way he cracks those self-deprecating jokes about how the only real ambition he has in life is finding new ways to disappoint his relatives, and squander as much of the family fortune as he possibly can.

It’s no surprise, really, that Ransom’s turned out the way he has. You’ve heard the way they all talk about him sometimes, his family seemingly oblivious to your working-class existence.

Never mind the fact that whenever you happen to glance over at him, Ransom’s eyes are almost always on you—watching and assessing with that same inscrutable expression on his face.

Not that you pay close attention or anything.

Not that you care, either.

And never will you admit that it unnerves the hell out of you, almost like he’s trying to see through you—right down to the restless person who hides beneath a false bravado, a sarcastic sense of humour, and mountains of paperwork piled up high on your desk.

The feeling of being seen, so terrible and stirring at the same time.

And yet, you shiver, there’s something about it that rivets you. Something electric, like a live wire running just beneath your skin. It’s the feeling you get when he looks at you with those icy blue eyes, his expression going from scathing to almost inquisitive within seconds, when the two of you are trading jabs and insults like his mother isn’t the one who signs your paycheques.

If you are carbon, then he’s the igniting flame.

But you know better, don’t you? Ransom is trouble, plain and simple—the kind with zero direction in life, the kind with a new girl on his arm every week, leaving them to wake up in the mornings to cold bed sheets and memories of promises he’d never intended to keep.

You will die a fiery death before you come another notch on his bedpost. Not that you even care whether he thinks of you that way at all, because even the idea of doing that with Ransom is—

Shit. You shiver again.

You’re playing with fire by even thinking about him at all, even though you feel the incredibly annoying pull of his presence like a magnet, even though you know you need to stay as far away from him as possible, and even though you are very keenly aware that there’s something here.

It looms large yet goes unacknowledged whenever your eyes lock, when he’s looking at you like he wants to bury you and devour you at the same time, when you’re itching with the knowledge that you’re only keeping him at as much of a distance as you can physically stand.

Why else haven’t you told him yet, in no uncertain terms, to fuck right off?

Because there’s a part of you that can’t help but wonder what it would be like to let yourself burn—to feel the heat of that passion you can see in his eyes that he never seems to give into, to feel whatever warmth he might muster from beneath the complicated layers of that thing beating in his chest, to feel him next to you as that terrible something you won’t ever name finally erupts and consumes everything in its path.

Ugh. You absolutely loathe yourself for it, and it makes you want to bash your forehead repeatedly against the wall.

“Someone’s going on the naughty list,” Ransom snickers, the sound infuriatingly close now. You do your best not to startle at the new proximity; he’s put his phone away, unfolded himself from your chair with that unexpectedly languid grace, crossing the room to toss your now empty package of cookies into the trash. “And is that any way to speak to a valued coworker?”

“You? Valued? Coworker?”

“Oh, don’t be jealous, Cindy Lou,” he chides, leaning against the edge of an empty desk barely a step away, crossing his arms over his broad chest, then lowering his voice to whisper conspiratorially, “I hear it’s a sin.”

“Jealous?” You laugh humourlessly, snorting in a way that is decidedly very unladylike. “Of what? The fact that you’ve never worked a day in your life and have the soft white hands of a geisha?”

“Oh yeah? Been thinking about my hands a lot, have you?” He smirks again, and you bite back an exasperated moan—er, groan.

“Namely,” you say sarcastically, turning away from him and reaching up for a particularly high spot. “Breaking all the feeble little bones in your tiny rat-like claws, preferably with a nice sturdy lump of coal.”

“I’m not the one who’s gone on a rampage,” Ransom gestures to the office, now adorned with shiny little baubles, bundles of sparkly tinsel, and rolls of satin ribbon, “and vandalized the office.”

“Vandal—it looks festive, you heartless ghoul!” You whip around to glare at him again, momentarily forgetting your unstable position. But instead of rolling away from the wall and taking you with it, the chair beneath you stays firmly in place. Confused, you glance down to see Ransom’s outstretched feet casually braced against the legs.

Your head snaps up so quickly you think you might get whiplash, eyes narrowing accusatorially only to see him looking away, feigning nonchalance despite the fact that his ears are turning red.

Blood rushes to your cheeks, a traitorous warmth spreading through them. You curse mentally for the umpteenth time, feeling the corners of your perfidious mouth threatening to curve up into a smile.

The bar really is in hell, isn’t it?

“You…” you squeak, clearing your throat a few times to get your voice back to normal. “It’s five. You should go get your mother now.”

“Why, am I distracting you?” Ransom replies, tucking his hands into his pockets and still not making eye contact. “And don’t rush me. I’d rather eat glass than sit through another one of Linda’s fuckin’ Christmas parties.”

“Right, because of your repellant personality?” You quip only half-sarcastically.

“So I’m told,” he drawls, but strangely he sounds more pleased than offended by your observation. “But then again, you’re no picnic either, are you Cindy?”

“Excuse me?” You finally climb off the chair, the last of the garland securely in place. You ignore those stupid feelings stirring inside you at the sight of him retracting his legs a second too slow, and only when both your feet are firmly on the floor.

“You can’t tell me you work so hard because you like your job,” he chortles, his smirk twisting into something just a tiny bit meaner this time. “Aw, sweetheart, do you not have any friends?”

You snort so loud it almost hurts, trying not to focus on just how much you and Ransom have in common—a fact he also seems content to leave unaddressed. “Oh, like you do?”

The mental image of Ransom sitting in his mother’s living room, laughing and sharing wine with a bunch of people in front of a roaring fire like he isn’t a raging sociopath makes you shudder.

“Although, I guess I am curious,” you relent with an inquisitive tilt of your head, ignoring the weight of his heavy gaze on your back as you rummage through the last of the decorations.

“Hm, do tell,” you hear him chuckle.

“About Christmas, you bumbling idiot,” you retort, rolling your eyes. “Can’t picture you and Linda decorating a tree or opening presents together.”

“Okay, that’s not even funny,” he grumbles, his expression twisting into something sour.

“Never? Not even when you were a kid?” You ask before you can stop yourself. Dangerous territory. You know too much about his personal life as it is, and this would only humanize him and that’s the very last thing you want.

“Sometimes,” he admits after a few seconds of agonizing silence, his voice uncharacteristically quiet, your eyes meeting, as always, when you look up at him. “Only ever at Harlan’s.”

You stare, unsure what to do with the underlying hint of something in his voice that doesn’t really belong. Harlan is the only person in his family you actually like, who exudes warmth and care even towards a spoiled and ungrateful grandson, and it takes you a moment to realize that the thing in Ransom’s voice might be affection.

It’s alien and unnerving, to say the least, but you still feel a traitorous tug at your heart strings.

“I can’t picture you as a kid,” you say, somehow managing to keep your voice from trembling as you quickly change the subject. Sweet Christmases with his adoring grandpa shouldn’t be something you associate with this overgrown man-child. And even if it is, it doesn’t change the fact that Ransom is a giant, gaping asshole. “I just see you, but… smaller.”

“And I bet you were just a naive little princess,” he smirks when you glare at him, “doting parents, thoughtful presents, cookies for Santa—spoiled in your own way.”

“Oh, don’t get it twisted,” you shake your head, putting up a defensive hand, “we aren’t sharing. That’s not what this is.”

“But you know what they say, Cindy,” he says as he leans in closer, stopping just inches away, so close you can smell the lingering scent of cinnamon and nutmeg on his breath, mingling with the saccharine aroma of peppermint and artificial pine clinging to his sweater. “Sharing is caring.”

His eyes blaze in an unspoken challenge, but before you can do anything else, like maybe start thinking that the bad idea that’s been plaguing you ever since you met this infernal man isn’t such a bad idea after all, the sound of Linda’s voice cuts through the air, as sharp as the diamonds she wears on her fingers.

“What are you two doing?”

The spell is broken, and Ransom looks away with that same infuriating smile that makes you both want to punch and ki—

“Hello, Mother,” Ransom all but sneers.

You step away with considerable effort, wringing your hands in front of you. Linda narrows her eyes in thinly-veiled suspicion, but doesn’t say anything as she begins walking towards you.

Ransom steps in front of you, shoving his hands into his pockets and jingling his keys, “We’d better get going. Your chariot awaits.”

“Have a nice evening, Mrs. Drysdale,” you pipe up, watching nervously as her eyes sweep across the office and your carefully placed decorations with cool indifference. She nods slightly and you breathe a sigh of relief; that’s as close to a thank you as you’ll ever get.

“Ransom, be a dear and go start the car,” Linda says, urging him towards the door with a sweep of her hand. Her son hesitates for only a millisecond, not even looking back as he turns on his heels and leaves.

Only you notice that his hands are clenched at his sides.

“Merry Christmas, dear,” she smiles tightly as she hands you an envelope likely containing your holiday bonus, and you snap back to attention. You take it from her with a quiet thank you, but then her smile quickly turns into a stern frown. “But don’t make a habit of having food delivered here.”

“Food?” You repeat, your brows coming together in confusion. Linda puts on her fur coat, pointing a single gloved finger at the doors. There is a delivery person standing on the other side of the glass, lifting and pointing at a plastic bag heavy with takeout containers.

“Air the place out before you leave,” Linda says as she breezes past him, not even turning back while she lifts a hand in dismissal.

Confused, you follow in her tracks, staring after her as she makes a dissatisfied face at Ransom’s car pulled right up next to the curb. You see him roll his eyes, leaning over to unlock and push the door open for her. Linda doesn’t look too thrilled, but steps in anyway. They drive away, a hint of a smile on Ransom’s face even though it looks like Linda’s already started in on him with her usual longwinded lectures.

You tell the delivery boy you didn’t order anything, but he looks just as puzzled. He checks the receipt and says your name, the office address, which you confirm are correct. He then recites the order: scallion pancakes, rice noodle rolls, steamed crystal dumplings, and a small black sesame latte—your standing order from your favourite restaurant in Chinatown, reserved for nights when you were working late.

“It’s already paid for,” he says, “you might as well take it.”

You do, locking the doors once he leaves and set the bag down onto a nearby desk. Before you’ve even untied it and opened the containers to check their contents, the grin that’s been brewing all night finally breaks free.

Because there’s only a handful of people in the world who know you’re here at the moment, but only one who knows you haven’t eaten yet today, and who knows that despite having permission to leave for the night, you’ll probably settle in for another few hours of tedious paperwork.

Still, you finish every last crumb of your dinner feeling lighter than you have all week.

Maybe you’ll ask him next time, despite all the reasons you probably shouldn’t, whatever happened to sharing is caring?—even if it sounds like an invitation.

And maybe you feel cheeky enough to send him a quick email before logging off, cackling to yourself when he finally fires back a scathing reply a few hours later, likely still sitting in a room full of people just like his mother, trying not to be absolutely miserable.

From: “El Diablo” <rdrysdale@drysdaleproperties.com> To: Reception <reception@drysdaleproperties.com> Subject: RE: Merry Christmas Oh fuck off, I don’t know what you’re talking about. ——————— From: Reception <reception@drysdaleproperties.com> To: “El Diablo” <rdrysdale@drysdaleproperties.com> Subject: Merry Christmas …and thanks for dinner, Drysdale.

And if, when you’re finally home long after the midnight hour, you’re tucked into bed feeling full and warm with the temptation to raise your lips into a smile as you drift off to sleep?

Well.

That’s really nobody’s business but your own, is it? 

fin.

[shrimplymoray]

As an LGBT person AND A FELLOW BRAZILIAN LIKE MAH, I stand by the fact that what she is doing is completely unaceptable and I'll say why: Our country is considered one of the most multicultural countries. Meaning in the long existence of Brazil, we've had thousands of people from all places, from all origins and with all identities coming to live here, and to turn this place into their safe space. We have THOUSANDS of LGBTQ+ people, last year even gaining our first Trans Senator. However, we are STILL the country that KILLS AND PERSECUTES Trans people the most. As someone from part of many of our minorities, and even tho i have previously tried to stay in at least a neutral stance towards a lot of brazilians due to genuinely wanting to be able to connect with others from here, I CAN NOT, AND NEVER WILL ACCEPT TEH EXCLUSION OF OTHERS. One of the biggest Christian Branches in Brazil is the Evangelic Church, which is known for being strict and usually oppressive towards minorities. I've met Evangelical people who were the most accepting and sweet, however there are the bad ones, as any form of group have. The "don't talk about politics" thing on her Boundaries seemed a little weird with also being atatched to christianity, as Christianity was what actually made lots of people vote for our last president, who not only did heinous acts against our people, but manipulated a REAL TERRORIST ATTACK. That should've been enough for me to be WAY MORE AWARE, but sadly i wasn't.

I am not advocating for attacking her, or what she creates, but for the love of everything sacred, if you are also against this stuff, block her. I already did it, and I hope everyone that is here is aware that ALL MY CREATIONS are LGBTQ+ friendly and made with us at heart. Any prejudiced is not accepted, and I genuinelly hope that she will one day understand just how much her words affect those around her who thought she was a safe space to be around

"I am a Christian, I follow Jesus Christ and the teachings of the bible, and the bible is clear about the fact that homosexuality and transsexuality is a sin"

"I do not believe someone choses to be attracted to the same sex, nor do I believe someone choses to become the opposite gender, however, what I believe is the fact that the devil tempts people with various things, and these are some of them, and it's our choice as followers of Christ to fall into it or not."

— Midnightmah07

Baby you're saying you're not homophobic but you clearly have homophobic saying??? Don't lie to us just to fit in a community, plus you blocked me just for a post I did but deleted a few weeks ago because I realized my mistake? So being a coward + homophobic are Christian traits for you?

[azelsdoormat]

Azel Radwan Main Story

► Chapter 1

This translation is fanmade and strictly for entertainment purposes only. All media and original content belong to Cybird. Do not use, claim as your own, repost or reupload onto other platforms, reblogs are welcome.

I still don’t know what love is. 

But I want to someday fall in love and understand what it is. 

A passionate love like a rose set ablaze, and a fierce love that stays on for eternity like a woven tale. 

???: I see, I see…

???: How utterly laughable.

(... Who is that?) 

The usual dream I had every night changed the night before I set out on my trip to a foreign country.

It was set in a rose garden where the roses were still tightly closed buds. The space felt undeveloped and incomplete.

There stood an unfamiliar visitor, reading an unfinished tale from a book placed on an oak table.

His appearance was otherworldly, unlike that of any ordinary person.

His hair shimmered under the light of the massive moon hanging from the sky, and his eyes seemed to contain a starry sky within.

That divine, beautiful being who seemed to blend well with the dream’s space gave me a mocking grin as I approached.

Emma: What’s… laughable?

???: I have some unfortunate news for you, who yearns for love and thirsts for knowledge of what it is.

???: Love is not the grand blessing it is often proclaimed to be. 

???: Sometimes, it would serve you well to remain ignorant and pure for your entire life. You would find far greater happiness that way.

I didn't know what he read from that unfinished tale. 

But this “something”, who clearly wasn't human, directly and utterly rejected what laid at the very core of my heart. 

Emma: And how can you be so sure of that?

???: Because I am a god. 

(... God?) 

???: I have witnessed many examples of “love”. Not in fiction… but rather the raw, unvarnished love that exists in.

???: Far too often, people use “love” as a means to justify their otherwise unjustifiable actions.

???: It is truly tragic to see people driven mad by love.

???: Even the most rational people become unable to live without it.

???: Like a curse.

Emma: …

???: Judging from this dreamscape shrouded in thorns, you must be a lady from Rhodolite.

???: Rhodolite had such a tale too, did it not? About a king who turned into a beast after losing his beloved. 

Emma: … While the story of the late Belle and the king may have been a tragedy, that doesn't mean all love must end the same way. 

???: Fair enough. However, not all love will end as a comedy either. 

???: Why do you yearn for love? 

Words caught in my throat upon hearing the god’s question.

There was no special reason for my yearning. 

It was nothing more than mere admiration, I had never deeply thought about what love truly meant. 

For the first time, I realised that my yearning was but an empty shell.

???: At the very least, love is something I would very much rather do without.

???: — For I am a god incapable of loving people. 

…

(……ん……)

(... Mm…)

Awaken by gentle sunlight streaming through the window, I opened my eyes to see the familiar ceiling of my room in town.

The unbloomed roses and the god who denied love both vanished as though they were nothing more than an illusion.

As I woke up, memories of the dream began crumbling away and were gradually replaced by reality. 

But a fragment of that dream lingered in my heart, refusing to disappear.

(“Love is a curse”... huh.) 

???: Emma, you up? 

A knock on my door banished the remaining drowsiness from my mind.

(This voice… Rio?)

Emma: Sorry, just a minute!

???: Ah, no worries. I’m a gentleman, I’ll wait for as long as you need.

(... I think I just heard a voice that wasn't Rio’s…)

Feeling slightly uneasy, I hurriedly got dressed, washed my face, and tidied myself up before opening the door. 

…

Standing at my front door was my friend, who left his position as a butler to return to town with me, greeting me with his ever so radiant smile. 

Rio: Good morning! You’re absolutely adorable today, as always!

Emma: Yeah, yeah, thanks as usual.

Emma: … What brings you here this early in the morning?

Rio: I came to visit because I just had to see your face.

Rio: And I bought bread. Want to enjoy it together? 

Emma: Thanks, I’d love to. Mmm, smells good…

Rio: It’s from your favourite bakery. They launched a new “fortune bread” today.

Emma: Fortune bread? That’s interesting! 

Clavis: Wait, wait, Emma. We have some more important matters to focus on than bread right now, don't we?

A man forced himself between us and snatched the bag of bread.

(So I wasn't imagining things when I thought I heard another voice.)

I stopped avoiding reality as a means of self-defence and turned to face the country’s most notorious troublemaker— a certain prince with a shady smile. 

Emma: It’s been a while, Clavis. 

Clavis: You could've jumped straight into my arms right off the bat, you know?

Emma: Thank you for kind consideration. Why are you here?

Clavis: Hmm, what do you think?

???: Enough with the theatrics and just tell her already. 

(Huh…?) 

My eyes widened when I saw a tall figure sitting on a wooden crate some distance away.

Emma: Luke’s here too!?

Luke: Oops. My bad, I invited myself into the conversation too early.

Rio: I coincidentally ran into Clavis and Luke earlier on.

Rio: Though, they didn't tell me what they’re here for… 

(I was just thinking it was rare for Rio to come visit me so early in the morning… maybe he’s worried about me.)

Luke stood up from the wooden crate and raised the paper bag he had in his hand.

Luke: Mind if we join you for breakfast?

…

My modest home where I, a commoner, lived was now filled with two princes and my former butler friend…

Our surroundings were both physically and emotionally stuffy. 

Clavis: Emma, you’re heading to Tanzanite soon, right? 

Rio: Ugh… 

The freshly baked bread, along with the sweets Luke brought, bounced slightly when Rio hit his head against a corner of the table.

Clavis: What's the matter?

Rio: … I lose control of myself whenever I hear about that.

Rio: The thought of not being able to see my angel, my goddess, my beautiful fairy Emma… 

Luke: You’re such a drama queen.

(When I first told Rio about my trip, he was completely broken. I guess this counts as an improvement.) 

[ Flashback ] 

Rio: — Emma’s going to Tanzanite…

Emma: Rio, are you okay!? You hit your head on the bookshelf really hard…

Rio: I’m okay… but… why… 

Emma: I’ve heard many stories about foreign countries from the Owner, but I’m most interested in the god who can perform infallible divinations. 

Emma: If such a god really exists, I’d like to meet them even just once. 

Emma: Besides, Tanzanite’s a popular tourist destination. 

Emma: It’s a country in the dessert, but I think it's a good choice of destination for my first trip. 

[ Flashback End ]

(I feel bad for nearly causing Rio to pass out, but…)

(I’ve been really excited every day ever since deciding to travel to Tanzanite.)

Luke: I’m surprised you’re not going with her. 

Rio: The Owner told me to look after the bookstore while she’s away. 

Rio: I really do want to go with her!! What if something happens to her when I’m not there…!? 

Rio: But if staying behind will help Emma feel more at ease on her trip, then I… I’ll… 

Clavis: Haha, you can be rest assured about that. 

Clavis tore off a piece of the bread in his hand and ate it, savouring it in delight before swallowing. 

Clavis: Because we’ll be her bodyguards in your place.

Rio: Oh, is that true? Thank goodness, I feel relieved—

Rio: — Wait, that won’t do—! What is that supposed to mean!? 

(Seriously, what does he mean by that!?) 

I almost dropped my fortune bread but managed to catch it in a panic. 

Clavis: I mean exactly what I said. 

Luke: We’re going to Tanzanite too. 

Luke stuffed a whole honey-coated pastry in his mouth and licked his fingers.

Luke: I didn't wanna go at first because it’s too bothersome, but Chevalier ordered me to take care of some diplomatic matters.

(Going to Tanzanite during this period of time means…)

[ Flashback ] 

Akatsuki: Politics have been unstable lately.

Emma: Is it because of… the Three-Nation  Alliance?

Akatsuki: Yeah. None of the countries have made any moves at the moment, but this feels like the calm before a storm. 

[ Flashback End ]

(... I’m an outsider now, so it’s best for me to refrain from getting involved.) 

Clavis: Since we’re all leaving for Tanzanite at around the same time, why don't you come with us?

Clavis: We plan to take the route that passes through Benitoite. If you ride on the royal ship, your transportation is basically free. 

Clavis: I can already picture you crying tears of joy. Ah, you don't even have to say it, I already know.

Clavis: You’re so lucky to have the privilege of travelling to a foreign country with your beloved Clavis— 

Rio: OBJECTION! 

Rio shot up from his seat with a start in the cramped room and pointed a finger at Clavis.

Rio: People always say that there's nothing scarier than something that comes free. What's your real motive? Out with it. 

(As expected of Rio. That’s what I want to know too.)

Clavis took a deliberate sip of the tea I brewed and paused as though to savour it…

His wet lips then curled into a meaningful and bold smile.

Clavis: What do you think?

Luke: Don't say such things that mess with people. There's no deeper meaning at all. 

Clavis: Read the room, Luke. 

Luke: You read the room. 

Luke: This guy ordered every official to report anything interesting about Emma to him. 

Emma: So you were made aware of my trip to Tanzanite because…

Luke: The official who issued your travel permit ratted you out. 

Emma: Is that not abuse of power!? 

Clavis: What are you talking about? It’s for work.

Luke: This guy found out about your first ever trip and got all “amused” by it. 

Luke: He even volunteered to personally make a trip to Tanzanite, and I got stuck with the job of babysitting him thanks to Nokto. 

Luke: He said “I feel bad for Emma, so I’ll send at least one sensible person to go along”. 

(Thanks, Nokto!) 

Luke: But if you’d rather not deal with his crap, I’ll take personal responsibility to bury Clavis in the woods for you. 

Clavis: No need to worry about that. Emma is shaking with excitement, isn't she?

Luke: … You should get your eyes checked out before we leave the country.

Rio … I’m worried. I’m very worried.

(Since I’m not travelling alone, I should probably discuss this with the Owner…) 

(But with both Clavis and Luke accompanying me, having familiar faces in an unfamiliar land does make me feel more assured.)

After mulling it over, I furrowed my brows and tore the fortune bread in half.

Emma: Oh?

(Something fell out from inside.)

It was a small porcelain figurine that resembled a horse with a horn, standing proudly in my palm. 

Rio: As expected of Emma! You hit the jackpot.

Clavis: Hm… the unicorn is indeed currently considered the continent-wide ultimate symbol of “good luck”. 

Emma: Is that so?

Clavis: Yeah. You should keep it as a good luck charm. What a great start to your journey. 

Clavis: After all, unicorns hold a special symbolism in a country in the desert. 

(I don't exactly associate unicorns with deserts, though…) 

Emma: If that’s the case, it does seem like it’ll bring me blessings.

Luke: You’re always a good person, anyway. Even without a unicorn, I bet lots of positive things will happen to you. 

I gently cupped the unicorn figurine in my hand. 

The unexpected stroke of luck felt encouraging, like it was telling me that my current most honest feelings were right. 

Clavis: So, Emma, you’re travelling together with us, right…? 

…

The gateway to Tanzanite, the country of deserts, divinations and illusions was a bustling port thriving with merchants, much like Benitoite. 

…

Emma: We’re in Tanzanite! 

(Although… I expected more sandstorms because I was told that it’s in a desert.) 

The lively streets looked nothing like a desert.

However, the animals roaming the streets and the people’s clothing were clearly distinct from those in Rhodolite or Benitoite. 

Along with the scent of spices wafting through the air, it was undeniable that we were now on foreign land. 

(We’ve really come a long way.)

Akatsuki: Our destination is still far from here. It’s too early to get excited. 

The Owner, carrying loads of goods for trading, came to stand next to me. 

I was carrying a bag filled with books myself, but it was nothing compared to his load. 

Emma: Should I help carry some of that?

Akatsuki: No need. I usually carry it all by myself.

(That's easily 100 books over there… I can't believe he carries them alone.) 

Clavis: We offered to help too, but Akatsuki sure is hardworking.

Luke: I told Emma I’d help carry her stuff too. 

Clavis and Luke whom we travelled on the same ship with packed lightly as compared to us. 

Emma: Thanks. But since this is my first time sourcing for goods, I want to carry my own baggage. 

Emma: Selling books in a foreign country and purchasing new ones…

Emma: I’m so excited to see how greatly my bag’s contents will change on the way back to Rhodolite.

Luke: Someone’s being really energetic.

Clavis: Akatsuki is lucky to have such a good assistant too.

Clavis: By the way, where are you two headed to after this?

Akatsuki: We’re meeting someone.

Emma: … We are? 

I followed the Owner’s gaze that shifted unnaturally and saw a strikingly beautiful woman standing there. 

(Wow…) 

She wore vibrant ruby red clothing and was adorned in glamorous accessories that rivaled the Owner’s outfit. 

Standing next to her was a bespectacled man with a gentle appearance. He smiled when he noticed us and approached.

Bespectacled Man: We’ve been expecting you, Akatsuki. And this is…?

Emma: I’m Emma, I came as the Owner’s assistant. 

Basil: Ah, I read about you in the letter. A pleasure to meet you, please call me Basil. 

Basil: And this lady over here is Kamal.

Kamal: …

Kamal smiled seductively and pulled out a stack of papers from which she showed me a piece with the words “it’s nice to meet you” written on it. 

Basil: As you can see, Kamal can’t speak. Please communicate with her through writing. 

(I see…)

Emma: Understood. I look forward to working with you both.

Clavis: … Hm.

As we exchanged pleasantries, Clavis stood nearby rubbing his chin. 

Clavis: You must be emissaries of the living god, correct? 

(... Huh?)

Basil: Well done! You noticed right away. 

Clavis: The symbols of faith you wear make it easy to figure out. 

Clavis pointed at his own chest.

Basil and Kamal gestured to their chests too, where the clasps of their cloaks were fastened. 

(... Now that I took a proper look at them, the clasps have unicorns on them.)

(Are those the “symbols of faith”?) 

Clavis: I was told in the past that the unicorn ornaments are worn by those who are close to god. 

Clavis: And a few years ago, I recall hearing about a book merchant Azel especially favoured. 

Clavis: I had my suspicions, but it seems that Akatsuki has some rather prominent clients. 

Emma: Is god… one of your clients? 

Akatsuki: Regardless of whether they’re god or royalty, a client is a client. Nothing more, nothing less.

(He never mentioned this to me!)

The Owner whose facial expression remained unchanged suddenly appeared far more impressive than I had initially thought of him to be. 

Basil: We have always been the ones to guide Akatsuki during his visits to Tanzanite. 

Basil: Prince Clavis, Prince Luke, please proceed in that direction. Emissaries from the Royal Court are waiting for you. 

Clavis: Haha, not only for me but for Luke the newcomer too? How insightful indeed. 

Clavis: Rhodolite didn’t send any prior notice about who would be coming. Is this another prophecy from the living god? 

(...!) 

Basil: That’s correct. Lord Azel is truly impressive. Is this a good time to talk about it? It is, right?

(He suddenly started speaking really fast…) 

Kamal mercilessly smacked Basil on the head as he adjusted his glasses. 

She then took out her stack of papers again and showed us the one that said “let’s go”. 

(... That sounded like she hit hard enough to crack his skull. Is he okay?) 

Luke: Then I guess this is where we go our own ways.

Clavis: I’ll personally come to meet you again, Emma. Before you start crying from loneliness. 

Emma: I don't think I will, but until next time. 

(So… we’re going straight to meet the god now, right?)

(I’m starting to get nervous.)

(I wonder what kind of person a living god is like.)

…

Azel: Thank you for taking the trouble to come all the way out to such a remote location.

Emma: Oh!