#your friends cities continents. but each time your old self will always catch up. always it waits in the winds.

[eye-of-yelough]

6, 34

6. Why did you do that?

- For shits, giggles and devotion to The Bit. Observe:

34. Is there a song you know off by heart?

Regular human answer: yes of course, multiple.

Bragging answer: this one.

[renjunphile]

Oceans and Engines | Joshua Hong

⇢ word count: 15.2k ⇢ pairing: svt's joshua hong / hong jisoo x female reader ⇢ song inspo: oceans & engines by niki ⇢ tags&warnings: exes to lovers!au, fluff, angst-ish, idol!au. fluff central. just thousands of words of self-indulgent fluff with little to no plot. ⇢ synopsis: when hong jisoo left his beloved hometown at 18 years old, he also left you, his proclaimed great love. it takes another 7 years for you to catch up to him again and close the oceans in between you. ⇢ notes: this was a self-indulgent fic i wrote in one night that i have not edited. there's a lot of parts missing that i hope to add in one day;; i added a list of songs all by niki at the end of the fic- please listen to them! they are so beautiful and what inspired me to write this fic. here's a link to the playlist if you want something to listen to while reading. 10/10 recommend btw 

18 YEARS OLD, LOS ANGELES

His bags are packed in the corner of the room and you choose to ignore them as you focused on the warmth of his arms wrapped around your torso and entwined with your hand. His desk is empty and you choose to ignore that as you matched his shallow breathing behind you that filled the silence in the air. Your heart is beating out of your chest and the feeling was piercing through your every thought and emotion.

Joshua's blinds are cracked open and visions of pink, orange, red and gold paint the picture of Los Angeles' sunset onto his bedroom wall. You think it's the most beautiful sunset you've seen in your life and if it was any other day, you'd tug on Joshua's sleeve and beg to take a car ride down to the beach with a blanket and your hearts on fire.

"I love you," he whispered for the millionth time in an hour, "I always will."

"I know," you whisper against his soft skin again. tears pooling at your lash line again, "And I love you, Jisoo."

The silence falls again and your eyes dart over to the ticking clock. 5 hours to go.

"We'll make it work," he mutters, pressing his lips on the crown of your head, "You'll always be the one for me."

You just nod absentmindedly and choose to believe everything he was saying. Neither of you knew what was to come. Neither of you knew what to expect.

"Let's just enjoy our time with each other," you plead, "I'm going to miss you, Jisoo-ah."

"6000 miles," he utters the painful reminder of the distance that was to become of the two of you, "That's nothing for us. We can do that."

You squeeze his fingers laced in yours and press a kiss to the side of his neck, ever the more realistic one in your relationship, letting your eyes flutter shut as you felt the thumping of his heart under the palm of your hand. We'll be fine, you thought to yourself.

-

25 YEARS OLD, SEOUL

Life was about seizing every opportunity that came to you; an old friend had taught you that. When you were presented with a lucrative deal on a golden platter, there were no options other than to say yes.

That was how you found yourself in a new country and a new continent, with just two suitcases and a dream to fulfil. You weren't the most confident about the situation; you had been picked up from the comfort of your own city that you had spent the entirety of your life in and plonked across the world in a city where you knew no one. Well, no one that you spoke to anyway.

You had touched down at the airport on a rainy Thursday and crashed at your apartment in the city for two days before you could find the energy to explore your new home. Three days of café and museum hopping and tourist destinations exhausted you and you turned up to your first day at work shattered but nervous.

The HYBE building was three train stops from your apartment and entirely formidable, standing tall with 19 floors above ground and you were entranced as you walked into the lobby. It was sophisticated, modern and futuristic; a definite step up from the 4-floor walk-up studio you had been working at for 4 years.

"Y/N?" a man dressed in cargos and a loose t-shirt had called out to you, waving the hand that was perched on the information desk.

You gave a shy grin, knowing exactly who the man was in front of you, "Hi, Dohyeong!"

"It's nice to see you again. I've been tasked with showing you around and showing you the ropes here," he began, gathering a bunch of papers on the desk.

You bowed deeply, knowing that this man in front of you had made everything happen. Kwon Dohyeong, AKA Slow Rabbit was one of Big Hit and Hybe's in-house producers. His connections to the main producers at your studio meant that he had travelled to Los Angeles frequently and that led to the two of you working many times over the years on many tracks- K-pop or not. When Big Hit's only in-house female producer departed the team, they were in search of someone who could fill the large void she had left. Dohyeong had been the one to advocate and advertise you to the higher-ups and that was how you found yourself as the new in-house producer at one of the biggest and most affluent companies in the world.

"I'm so grateful to be here," you said sincerely.

"We're the lucky ones," he chided at you, handing over your lanyard, "Here's your pass around some of the doors. Most of the doors actually require face recognition too so we need to set that up before you can get anywhere. Security here is really tight because we need to protect the artists."

"Having the most popular artists in the world must come with some challenges," you agreed as you watched a large screen in the foyer flicker through some of the artists housed at the building. BTS, Tomorrow x Together, Enhypen-

"We should get going. There's a lot to tour," he tore your eyes away and began walking, "So there are 19 floors. The first 7 are for entertainment production. That's where the studios are. 8th to 16th are offices, so you won't find yourself there much, but the gyms are on the 14th to 16th floors. There are some lounges and meeting spaces right at the top. It's really nice there but gets quite busy. The rooftop is really cool too."

He passes a few security checks at some automatic doors before the two of you are stepping into an elevator with a plethora of numbers to press. He presses the 7th floor.

"Do you ever get lost?"

"All the time," he laughs, "It's actually like a maze. I can pretty much only navigate the floor with the studios and the cafés at the top. Really great coffee up there, by the way."

The elevator dings open and you're met with a series of closed sliding doors. He punches in a code this time and takes you down a corridor.

"We all get our own studio here. And there are a lot of empty ones for the artists, should they want to experiment with producing. Yours is just here," he stops in front of a door halfway down and then looks around, "Mine is down the other hallway. This one across from you is Universe Factory; it's like 3 studios in one. So this hallway can sometimes get noisy."

"Noisy? Why?"

He points to the sign next to the door that reads Universe Factory. Woozi. Bumzu. Kyuhoon. "Woozi from Seventeen? The boys come here to record everything so their sheer presence up and down this hallway is generally quite loud."

You swallow the nervousness that had been building up in your throat. Of course, you wouldn't get very far from him in this building. You guessed your path would cross one day, but you didn't imagine he'd be working right outside your studio.

"I'm sure it'll be fine. I'll have my headphones in all the time anyway," you dismissed, wanting to move the conversation along, "Can I peak at the studio?"

He smiled at you, seeing the excited glint in your eye, "Go ahead. Welcome to your new home."

-

A knock comes at your door three days later. By this time, you had settled into the studio and figured out the equipment that was miles ahead more advanced than what you had at home. Most of the in-house producers had dropped by your studio to greet you as you would all be frequently collaborating. Most of them.

"Hold on," you call out, hoping they'd hear through the very reinforced walls as you slipped your headphones off and paused the track that you had been playing around with.

You opened the door and your stomach dropped.

"Hey! You're the new producer, right? I'm Woozi- I work here," he points to the door behind him, "I just wanted to say hello and apologise in advance for the rowdiness that's about to happen. We're about to start recording for our next album. We have a comeback in a few weeks, but we already have to record the next album!"

You give him a weak smile, "I'm Y/N. And it's no worries. I won't hear a thing."

"Adora used to always complain," Woozi chuckled to himself, "I'll send the boys over with some gifts to tide you over when we start."

"No!" you immediately exclaimed before seeing the perplexity in his face as you caught yourself, "I mean- you don't have to do that. You guys must be very busy. I'll be just fine- don't worry! Good luck on your recording!"

Woozi was a perceptive person. He definitely knew you were trying to send him away- but for what reason, he didn't know. He gave you a final smile, "Okay, well I'll head into my studio. Give me a knock if you ever need anything."

"Will do. Thanks," you breathed out before closing the door behind you.

What a complete disaster.

You thought you had managed to avoid the situation and ward off the Seventeen boys for the time being. When they began recording the day after, you were pleased to find out that their noise wasn't entirely distracting if you had your headphones on, but you had to schedule your trips out of your studio according to the noise level outside.

That was how you had been having lunch at 3 PM for the past 3 days since the Seventeen boys were in and out of the recording studio until then, which was when you assumed they went to the practice rooms three floors down.

You had been working for a little over a week and were delighted with your new role, aside from the feeling that would erupt from your stomach every time you heard footsteps outside. You had met all the producers and worked a little on a couple of tracks with them while continuing to conjure up some of your own in hopes for them to be picked up by someone.

You were safe, until you weren't anymore.

"Y/N," a familiar voice called behind you. Shit, you thought they'd be gone. It was 5 PM already.

You turned around and smiled, "Woozi. What are you doing here so late?"

"No dance practice today so we're recording for longer," he shrugged, "Where are you off to? Home?"

"Just getting a coffee from upstairs," you gestured to the lift at the end of the hallway, "Gonna stay for a bit longer and try to finish up some tracks."

"You're gonna have to let me hear your music sometime. I'm a big fan of what you have out," he grins at you, "I'm actually going up too."

He knew who you were? That sounded... dangerous.

"Jihoon-ah, wait up," a figure emerged from Woozi's studio as the door clicked shut behind him. Blonde and mighty, Yoon Jeonghan was bounding towards the two of you, "I want a drink too."

"No coffee," Jihoon scolded, "Messes with your voice."

Jeonghan put his hands up, "I just wanted tea. My voice is getting scratchy," he turns to look at you, "You must be the new producer! I'm Jeonghan."

"Does everyone know there's a new producer?" you grinned awkwardly, "Y/N. Of course, I know who you are."

"We just know that your studio has been vacant for a while and we were wondering who we'd come and annoy next," he teased, "Y/N. What's your last name?"

Uh-oh. You could lie, right? You should, right? Just in case.

Jeonghan's eyes flickered down to the name badge that also held a picture of you without the mask you were adorning, "Y/L/N. Wait. You seem familiar. Have we met?"

"Hyung, that's greasy. Don't flirt with our new producer," Jihoon elbowed him in the side as the three of you walked into the elevator and Jihoon pressed the number for the café.

"I'm not flirting!" he defended as his eyes scanned over you, "I feel like I've seen your face and name before."

"I wouldn't know where," you retreated to the corner, timid in stature, "I've only been here a week. Maybe you've seen some of my music?"

Jeonghan's shoulders deflated, "Hm, maybe."

A silence fell on the three of you in the elevator as it shot up towards the top floors. Jihoon was tapping his feet on the metal floor to a beat and you were anxiously playing with your fingers, praying that Yoon Jeonghan did not know who you were.

The elevator door dinged, signalling that you had reached your floor at the same time Jeonghan reached his eureka moment. As soon as the doors opened, you began to make your escape, "Nice to see you guys. Bye!"

"Wait!" Jeonghan called out after you, "You're-"

You had fled around a corner before he could finish his sentence.

"Hyung, what was that?" Jihoon furrowed his eyebrows at the older man.

Jeonghan turned to his bandmate with a solemn stare, "Jihoon, that's Shua's ex-girlfriend."

-

Jeonghan's knock came two hours later. You could say you didn't expect it, but you hoped he would come and talk.

"Oh you're still here," he breathed out in relief, "Can I come in?"

You looked past him, confirming there was no one around before opening your door wider and gesturing for him to come inside.

"Can we talk?" he took a seat on the couch pressed up on the wall, "I feel like we should talk."

"We should," you hummed as you took your seat on your spinning chair and faced him.

"You're who I think you are, right?" Jeonghan began cautiously, "Y/N. From Los Angeles."

"You're right," you affirmed nervously, "How do you know who I am?"

"I've heard a lot about you. I feel like I know you already even though we'd never met," he chuckled to himself.

"He talked about me? I'd only met Vernon a few times on the phone all those years ago."

"Well, not by choice. I forced a lot of it out of him because I was curious and I'm his best friend, but eventually, he'd just start talking about you to me on his own. I'm probably one of the only ones who know about you past your name," Jeonghan recalled, "Maybe Minghao since they talk over wine a lot. Those two definitely know more about each other than they let on. But I've seen pictures of the two of you. That's why I recognised you."

"Ah, I see."

You bowed your head, looking at your folded hands in your lap and unsure of how to feel that Joshua had talked about you past your break up.

"My question is, Y/N, does he know? That you're here?"

You met his eyes again, "Does he need to?"

"It's been a while since the two of you have spoken right?"

"7 years," you recount, "Give or take."

"I think he needs to know," Jeonghan advised, "I won't tell him anything if you don't want me to but what happens when you two run into each other one day in the hallway? What happens when he focuses his eyes too long on the name plaque outside your door while waiting to go into Universe Factory? What happens when you produce a track for us and need to record with Joshua? It'd be best for your reunion to take place somewhere private."

You sighed, "I know I'd run into him eventually or have to confront this situation. I almost didn't take the job out of respect for Joshua and keeping my distance, but this is all I could dream of," you gesture to the equipment and the studio behind you, "I don't know how Joshua'll react, to be honest."

"How do you want him to?"

You pause and think about Jeonghan's words. Did you want Joshua crying, scooping you up in his arms and sobbing about how much he'd missed you? Or would it be easier for him to loathe your existence and newfound proximity?

"I don't know," you mumble.

"Do you want to see him again?" Jeonghan presses on, "He's in the studio right now. About to be done with recording."

You gulped at the thought of seeing your ex-boyfriend once again for the first time in 8 years. You hadn't been prepared for this, but you don't think you ever will be. Besides, getting it out of the way was probably the best option.

"Yes. I do."

-

Another knock. It came just 20 minutes after Jeonghan had set off to get Joshua and prepare him. You look through the peephole to find Jeonghan grasping the arm of your ex-boyfriend adorned in a hoodie and sweats. He looked adorable.

You opened the door slowly, keeping your body behind and protected.

"Don't be nervous," Jeonghan cooed as he tugged Joshua inside, "Shua, meet our new producer."

"Jisoo-ah," you exhaled, meeting the eyes once more of the person you loved with your entire being, "Hi."

Your heart was beating out of your chest. Your head was spinning. Your hands were clammy.

Joshua's mouth parted in shock as he looked between Jeonghan and you. And then his gaze fixed on you, "Y/N."

"I'll leave the two of you to it. Don't get back too late, Shua," Jeonghan winked at his best friend and swiftly exited, leaving the two of you in a silent room standing and staring at each other.

You were the one to break the silence, "I know this is a bit of a surprise- a bit unexpected, but-"

You didn't really have an ending to your sentence and a quietness filled the space in front of you. He was standing two feet away, but it still felt like 6000 miles. 

"What are you doing here, Y/N?" he said incredulously, "You're our new producer?"

"Surprise?" you uttered awkwardly, "Dohyeong from Big Hit scouted me to replace Adora as an in-house producer. I couldn't say no."

Joshua's mind flashed back to all those nights in your small room where you'd be messing around on Garage Band and he'd be on your bed cooing sweet words into the microphone attached to the laptop, "Of course. This is a dream come true for you. I'm proud of you."

"You are?"

"This has always been your dream, hasn't it? Get out of Los Angeles and be a big producer," he recalled, "Guess we're both living our dreams now."

"Yeah, I guess," you smiled softly to yourself.

"Why didn't you tell me you were coming?" his eyebrows pulled into a furrow.

Your heart ached, "I didn't think we were on speaking terms, Joshua. I know I should have since I'm working in the same building as you, but I didn't- It was hard."

"My mom didn't say you were moving here. She just said you were moving far away."

"Your mom still talks to you about me?"

You knew that Joshua's mother used to update him about you fresh from your breakup, but you didn't think she was still doing so 7 years later, especially after she stopped talking to you about him. It was probably your fault anyway. It was probably how your entire demeanour dropped and something clouded over your eyes when she mentioned his name. That was around the time she stopped inviting you to dinner at their house; she had found you once grasping a picture frame on their mantel- one of the two of you at your middle school graduation. 

"You're the daughter she's always wanted," Joshua smiled thinly, "I know it hurt her to distance from you when I left."

You remembered the day one month ago when you approached her at the end of a church service and told her that you'd be moving far away, hopefully permanently. She had pulled you into one of her famous tight hugs and stroked your hair the same way Joshua used to, telling you that she always knew you'd achieve your dream. Sure, your job in Los Angeles was cushy and it was probably beneficial due to artists all over the world coming to the city to work with producers, but you wanted out. You had been born and raised in the same place, and you wanted a change. 

"I didn't tell her," you admitted, "In case she would tell you."

He folded his arms together and squinted, emotions unreadably, "So I found out like this? By Jeonghan recognising you and effectively forcing you to tell me? Were you going to tell me?"

"Of course," you defended, "I just didn't know how. I don't even know how to contact you and how was I explain to Jihoon that I needed to talk to you without seeming like an ill-intentioned obsessive fan?"

"You could have asked my mom for my number," he deadpanned.

"Oh," you snorted to yourself, "Didn't think of that."

He was still standing on the same spot by the door, afraid to move any closer, "Well, I'm glad you're here, Y/N. Don't be a stranger."

- 

"He what?"

"He left! He just left! He told me 'don't be a stranger' and left without giving me any way to contact him," you screeched to your best friend over the phone.

Her mighty laugh rang through the speakers and into your bedroom the next morning. You had just got up, about to get ready to go to work, but it was just the evening the day before for her, "Y/N, you're so screwed."

"Screwed? Why?"

"You're working in the same building as your great, lost love," she pointed out, "How do you think that's going to play out?"

"He's not my great, lost love," you snorted in denial.

"Okay, tell that to your songs then," Yoona drawled, "All of your songs."

Rolling your eyes, you chuckled, "Come on, Yoona. He's an idol and I work in the same company as him. We're not getting back together. And he definitely does not have any feelings for me anymore; it's been 7 years. Is he even allowed to date?"

"I heard Pledis doesn't have a dating ban. Plus, it's been 7 years for you too, but you're still in love with him. He could be in the same position."

"I'm not still in love with him!" you yelled in defence.

"I've never heard such bullshit, Y/N. You haven't dated a single person in 7 years. What does that say about you?"

"I've been on dates!"

"You've been on a trillion first dates," she reminded you, "Never a second. There was always something wrong with them. 'Oh, he lives too far away.' 'Oh, he doesn't have a car.' 'Oh, he doesn't like the beach.' 'Oh, he doesn't sing.' 'Oh, he didn't open the car door for me.'"

"I had standards, Yoona."

"No, Y/N, you had Joshua. And every person after you compared to him. You still do. You wouldn't date anyone too distinctly different from Joshua, because they weren't him. You wouldn't date anyone that was too similar because they just reminded you of him. Admit it, all you wanted was him."

Her words targeted your heart directly as you looked back on the past 7 lonely years.

"I have to get ready for work," you said quietly.

"Okay. I love you, Y/N, but it's going to be hard living in denial like you have been for 7 years when he's so close to you now."

You ended the call, feeling worse than you did at the start of the call. Yoona knew everything about you; she had been one of your closest friends since the start of high school, so she knew you for about 5 years of your long relationship with Joshua. She was the one that held you together through the sophomore year of college when your relationship fizzled out and got too hard. She had been the one to make sure you were taking care of yourself when all you wanted to do was lie in bed, curtains drawn and reminisce over every picture you had of your love.

She knew you better than you knew yourself, and she was right. It felt like in 7 years you never confronted and came to terms with your feelings for Joshua. All you did was write archives and archives of songs about him, without internalising all the lyrics you wrote about letting him go. You would spend countless sleepless nights penning lyrics of your relationship and then recording them, only for no one to hear and to be stored in that dreaded 'for you' folder on your laptop.

Whatever, you thought as you peeled away your covers, you had to go to work. 

You quickly made yourself presentable, as if you hadn't been tossing and turning all night about your reunion with your ex-boyfriend, and got on the train to the building. You spent the 5-minute ride with your ears plugged and your earphones blasting your favourite artist to distract you from your thoughts. It was no good reminiscing. It never did your heart any favours. 

"Good morning, Y/N," Dohyeong stepped into the elevator with you, "How was your night?"

"Didn't get a lot of sleep. So tired," you mumbled.

"You wanna get coffee upstairs?" he offered, tone friendly.

"Maybe later. I just wanna get into the studio already. One of those days where you're overflowing with ideas."

He smiled, "Those days are good."

The elevator stopped on your floor and the two of you got out, pausing briefly to say goodbye as you split into different hallways. You prodded along to your studio, turning on the lights and all your equipment as you placed your bags down. Immediately, you felt your body relax in the environment. Your studio would always be your safe space, no matter if it was your laptop and mic in your childhood bedroom, your box of a room in downtown LA or this high-tech one in the middle of Seoul. You could feel all your worries dissipate as you slipped on your headphones and loaded up your software. 

An hour later, you heard a knock at your door. It took you a few moments to reach it, but when you finally opened the door, there was no one there. There was just a coffee cup placed on the floor on the holder and a chocolate bar. Picking it up, you furrowed your eyes.

The label read that it was an iced hazelnut latte; your favourite. How had Dohyeong known your order? It must have been that time you got coffee in the first week.

'Have a good day :)' was written on the side of the cup, and all seemed like such a nice gesture. 

Up until you realised that the message was written in English. In a scrawl all too familiar to you. In the phrase that would end every letter that Joshua would send to you from when he was abroad and you were trying to make your relationship work.

There was no way that Joshua had got you coffee, right?

But the drinks started turning up almost every day; the same drink with the same message written on the side, with nothing ever pointing you to the direction of Joshua. He had not once turned up at your door seeking recognition for his acts of kindness. Not once had he ever left you any hint that it was him and you were beginning to think that the barista from upstairs had a crush on you or something and noted your foreign twang in your accent.

"Dohyeong," you walked into his studio, holding the 8th cup you had received, utterly baffled and desperate to get to the bottom of the mystery.

"Hey! Is that for me?" he pouted at the coffee in your hand, even though you spotted a newly finished cup next to his mouse.

"Apparently, it's for me," you looked at the cup curiously, "Someone's been putting coffee outside my door for the past week and a half with the same 'Have a good day' written on it but I don't know who it's from."

His eyes widened at the gesture, "Well, it's not me. I promise. Looks like you have a secret admirer, Y/N."

Ah, so not Dohyeong. That didn't really leave the hunt closed, because why would Joshua do it? Wasn't it risky to be seen putting coffee cups outside your door every day?

"If you ask me," Dohyeong cut in through your thoughts, "I'd say Jihoon. You guys have met a few times, you say? You once saw him in the queue for the café? And he works across you so he could knock quickly and then escape into his studio. He's there almost every day since the guys aren't promoting right now."

You weren't about to reveal your previous relationship to Dohyeong and it might've been Jihoon for all you knew. But Jihoon knew you were Joshua's ex-girlfriend right? Does bro-code even apply to a situation like this?

"You're overthinking, Y/N," Dohyeong placed his hands on your shoulders and moved you towards the door, "Just get to your studio early tomorrow and camp out by your peephole. I'm sure you'll catch them in the act."

"This is ridiculous," you huff, sipping on the coffee made just how you liked it.

"By the way, Y/N," his tone turned teasing, "The Pledis boys are allowed to date. Just thought they were all dating each other, though."

-

The next day, you were camped out at your studio at 8:30 AM. You never used to get in until around an hour later, but sometimes the coffee would already be there when you got to work. Sometimes there was a knock, but the person was always quick to get away.

You refrained from setting up your equipment and putting your headphones on, because you knew that they'd get away too quickly if you did. Instead, you were sitting on the couch adjacent to the door, waiting for their knock or some footsteps outside. 

Around half an hour later, you heard shuffling outside your door. Jumping up from your seat, you scrambled to the peephole and peered outside, only for your worst fears to come true. Jihoon, not Joshua, was outside, setting the coffee down with a knock before dashing into his studio. 

There was no way. Jihoon did not have a crush on you, right? Maybe it was just a nice gesture from him, but why would he leave it anonymous? The anonymity of the whole ordeal just made everything more suspicious. 

But, why did the handwriting look like Joshua's?

You weren't a confrontational person; you never had been, but desperate times called for desperate measures and you had to squash any ideas in Jihoon's head and find out if he even had any! It took you an hour of building up courage and pep-talking yourself before you marched two steps across the hallway and knocked on the door.

"Y/N," Bumzu smiled at you, "To what do we owe the pleasure?"

"Can I speak to Jihoon, please?"

He nodded, opening the door wider and letting you inside. You had never been inside Universe Factory before, and you assumed it was going to be a different layout due to having multiple studios inside, but the place surprised you. It was like stepping into a new building, with another hallway facing you and doors on either side.

"He's the second door on the right, but he might be in here," Bumzu pointed to the first door on your left, "Some of the boys just got here, so probably recording."

"Oh they are?" you gulped at the idea of running into Joshua, "I'll just come back another time."

"No, no! I'm sure it's fine. The boys are nice; you should meet them," Bumzu urged, about to open the door to the spare studio.

"No! Just tell him I dropped by-"

"Hi hyung," before Bumzu could open the door himself, the door swung open, "What's all this noise out here? Oh! Hi Y/N."

You pressed your lips into a thin smile, "Hi Jeonghan."

"What are you doing here?"

"Is Jihoon in there? She wants to talk to Jihoon," Bumzu revealed, pushing open the door. In fact, Jihoon was in there, alongside every other member of their vocal team.

"Vocal team are recording our title track today," Jeonghan informed you, leading you inside the large studio that was decorated quite plain as it was only a spare, "You should come and watch."

"Oh, Y/N!" Jihoon grinned as he saw you come in and the door close behind, "What did you want to talk to me about?"

"Nothing, nothing. I can just come back," you tried to dismiss, heading for the door already before a hand caught your wrist.

"You should stay," Joshua murmured, "Do you want to watch?"

"That's a good idea," Jihoon hummed, "You haven't recorded with any of the artists yet, right? I'll even give you the reins when I record since I still can't trust these 4."

There were two other members sitting on the couch who you hadn't met yet. They both shot you a grin.

"Seungkwan. DK," you smiled at them, "I'm Y/N, the new producer at Hybe."

"You're really pretty!" DK grinned, shaking your hand.

Jeonghan scoffed, slapping the back of his head as he pouted, "She's your noona. Stop it."

As you shook Seungkwan's hand, DK just gave you a cheekier grin, oblivious to the stares of the three who knew who you were, "You can call me Seokmin."

"Sit down, Y/N," Jihoon pointed at the vacant spinning chair, "You can help all you want or just observe! Who's next?"

Joshua began walking over to the microphone on the other side of the room, sliding the headphones on and giving you a nervous look.

"Don't get shy, Shua," Jeonghan smirked, which just grew more mischievous at the warning look you had shot him.

"We're recording our title track for our next album. It's called Rock with You," Woozi informed you, showing you the screen on his computer to display all the complex layers the song already had, "Joshua, ready when you are."

Joshua's familiar vocals soon filled the room, taking you right back to all those years ago when the two of you would play around with less sophisticated software and cheap mics. His voice had definitely developed, but he had always been incredibly talented. 8 years of expensive vocal training had just enhanced and controlled what he already had.

"You, who let me become this song right now. You're coming towards me, three, two, one," Joshua crooned into the mic, familiar as ever.

"Good," Jihoon noted, "Make the 'now' a bit shorter. And less breathy."

Joshua nodded, repeating the line into the mic and following the instructions. You would forever be in awe of him and his voice.

"Let's do the dubbing now. One take."

Joshua chuckled, sending pangs straight to your heart.

Jihoon instructed for him to go, with Joshua singing the parts that would layer over the other members. He even did a line in his famous falsetto, one that would never fail to amaze you. 

"One take wonder," Joshua grinned as he slipped the headphones off and sat next to Seungkwan on the sofa, eyes avoiding you.

The other three members recorded their parts too, with you complimenting their outstanding voices and giving little offerings of advice whenever they would ask you how you thought it went. When Jihoon was about to record, he let you take his seat in front of his computer and gave you the lyrics to the song. 

Their recording swiftly finished, and when you thought you could make a quick escape, Seokmin had asked you a question, "Do you sing as well, Y/N?"

"Ah!" Seungkwan sounded out loud, "There's no way you're Y/N from YouTube right?"

You were panicked. Seungkwan knew your YouTube channel that you hadn't updated in over a year.

"Oh, yeah. I don't have many subscribers- how'd you know?"

"You have like a million," Seungkwan scoffed, "I really like your song called Before."

Oh, shit. The one and only song about Joshua that you had released to the public. 

"Sing it for us, please! I want to hear your voice," DK clapped in his seat.

"I can sing you another song," you said softly, nervously, "I don't even remember how that one goes."

"I do!" Seungkwan called out, "Didn't it go like: "You were all I'd ever known and now I'm supposed to love you from a distance, like it's nothing, like its instant and you say "let's just see where this goes" and I don't know how or why you seem just fine, coz I'm having to grasp that you're somehow not mine anymore. It's so cruel how things are only almost like they were before."

If you could do a facepalm in that room right now, you would. What were the chances that Joshua's bandmate would have heard the song you released about him, remember how the melody went and the English lyrics of the song and sing it while he was in the same room as you.

"It did go like that," you weren't sure if you were humiliated or heartbroken. Probably both, "I should go."

You didn't even give the other boys a chance to say anything before you bolted out of the room.

Jeonghan stared at the two oblivious on the couch, hands on his hips and shaking his head, "Dumb and dumber. The two of you."

"What did we do?" Seungkwan's voice raised a few octaves as he yelled out in confusion, "What's wrong with him?"

Joshua was banging his head softly against the wall next to the couch, groaning softly at the scene that just played out in front of him.

"Y/N wrote that song," Jihoon drawled softly, to Seungkwan's small 'duh!, "Presumably about an ex? Maybe?"

"Oh yeah, I think the song's about being in a weird situation with a long-distance ex, if I remember correctly," Seungkwan piped up.

"So what's wrong?" Seokmin asked, curious.

"Well, guess who's our poor little Joshua's ex-girlfriend?"

Seokmin and Seungkwan's eyes widened in realisation, mouths dropping at the bomb. Seokmin began nervously laughing, "Wow, what a small world, huh?"

- 

It was only your third week at your new job, and a lot had happened already. You were beginning to doubt if it was such a good idea to have taken the job in the first place, considering your ties to a certain individual. You knew it was going to cause you trouble, but you didn't think it would do so this early.

You were sitting at your desk, head in your hands and breathing deeply as you tried to calm yourself down about the situation that had transpired. Joshua had never heard any songs that you wrote about him during your long-distance relationship, and of course, he never heard any song that you wrote after you broke up. You were mortified at the idea of him knowing how you felt during that time, and you should have known that releasing that one song into the world for people to hear without regulation was a bad idea.

The knock at your door pulled you out of your thoughts. You were in a half a mind to ignore it, but you knew that would help no one.

"Can we talk?" Joshua was standing outside your studio, expression unreadable.

"Yeah," you welcomed him in, closing the door behind you and trapping the two of you in your studio, a bubble away from the world, "I'm sorry about what happened. I didn't know Seungkwan knew who I was, let alone knew this one song I released among a few."

"It's not your fault," Joshua sighed, "It's mine. I'm sorry; I should have told them that you were here."

"Who does know?" you asked, "About me?"

"Well, all the boys knew I had a girlfriend back then. They knew your name, of course, but since you never met them and we both grew up, that's probably why they don't recognise you," Joshua voiced as he walked through the answer in his head, "And they knew you were from home, so they don't expect you to be here. But, obviously, Jeonghan and Jihoon know about you being here. And Vernon, because I tell him everything too and you had met."

"I see," you noded.

"Is that song about me?"

Ah, the golden question that made you cringe internally as you pulled your lips into a tight line, "Heartbreak's a very good inspiration."

"And what would you say if I asked to hear it?" 

"I'd say, do you want me to die from humiliation?" you fired back, playfully.

A smile invaded Joshua's face, "Fine, I won't push," his eyes flickered to the cup on your desk, "You haven't drunk your coffee today?"

Oh, the coffee mystery; the whole reason you got into the mess at Universe Factory.

You held it up, confused, "Are these from you? I saw Jihoon putting it in front of my door today. This is like the 9th one!"

He smiled slyly, "Jihoon puts them outside, but I order it and write the note. Felt like it was suspicious to anyone walking past if it was me. Jihoon is across you, so it seemed less weird. You couldn't tell?"

"There's not exactly a 'from Joshua' on the end of the note," you counter, "And why would you?"

"You know I love me my acts of service," Joshua said, "I used to get you this every other day at the start of school from the Starbucks across the road. Of course, it was from me!"

"You're confusing, Joshua."

"Confusing? Why?"

"Cause you used to do this when we were dating," you pointed out, "We're not dating anymore."

"Ouch," Joshua smiled, pain decorating his features, "I'll stop if it makes you uncomfortable."

You sighed, running your hands through your hair, "It's not that, Joshua."

"Then, what is it?"

"I just don't want to get the wrong idea," you admitted, "I don't want to be deluded into thinking that you still want anything to do with me."

"Y/N, what? I want everything to do with you," he furrowed his eyebrows, stopping himself from reaching out to take your hand, "You'll always be important to me."

"Don't say things like that, Joshua," you pleaded, fighting to stop tears pooling at your lashline, "How am I meant to take that? I've been trying to move on for 7 years, Joshua, but this is really not going to help."

"Have you moved on?" his voice was small and reluctant. 

"I don't know, Joshua. We dated for 5 years. I was so in love with you and you were my entire universe, and then you were just gone. Do you know how hard that is for someone? I didn't know anything about what you were doing for a whole year until your debut. Then you were everywhere. All our friends kept up with your group. They always talked about you. They always told me that you'd come back too, and you never did!" you ranted at him, slowly starting to pace the room back and forth and Joshua remained glued to his spot.

"You were the one that wanted to break up, Y/N," Joshua reminded you, "I loved you just as much as you loved me. More, by the end of it."

"Don't say shit like that," you snapped, "I always only grew to love you more each day, but you weren't being realistic. You were training practically 24 hours a day. I didn't know what times I could call you, so I was always just waiting and waiting for the phone to ring, hoping I even had 20 minutes of your time. And when you would call, I'd always be asleep and out of it. I loved you, Joshua, but it didn't feel like a relationship anymore. I went to college and you had your career here, 6000 miles away."

"But we always said that we could do it. That we'd fight through anything."

"Did you really think that it was even wise to have a girlfriend while you were training? And what would have happened if we were still together by the time you debuted? What if people from back home exposed you, exposed us? It wouldn't have been a good image," you said, "Don't ever think that breaking up with you was an easy decision; it was and will forever be the hardest choice I've ever made in my life. Do you think I wanted to lose you either? To spend all those years crying and pining after you, when I knew I couldn't have you?"

"I'm sorry," he apologised, "I know it was unfair on you and I knew it was hard for you. I've always been yours, Y/N. Through all these years."

Your heart thudded against your chest, the only sound in the silent room.

"We could try again," he said quietly, "You're here now and we're older and I'm allowed to date, and you work in the building so we're protected and-"

"But we grew up, Joshua. We don't know the first thing about each other anymore."

He closed the gap between you, taking his hand in yours and meeting your worried eyes, "But you'll always be the one thing I can't outgrow."

- 

"I told you so," Yoona grinned smugly on your screen as she applied her makeup, "3 weeks, huh? Thought it'd take longer to be honest."

"We're not dating," you quipped.

"Yet. You told him you weren't over him. He told you that he's loved you still all these years-"

"He didn't say that!"

"Y/N, you're so blind. He said to you that he's been yours all these years. What do you think that means? Anyway, where does this leave you then?" she rolled her eyes.

"Well, he gave me his number, for one," you chuckled, "He said I should come over and we can catch up and talk for longer, but he had to go to practice. Then he said I need to meet his members soon too."

"Down bad," she laughed, "He wouldn't introduce you to his members if he wasn't sure about wanting you back in his life. Take this opportunity and sprint, Y/N. It's what you've been wanting for 7 years."

"I'm still not sure if it's a good idea. He's still an idol. I know he's allowed to date, but it seems so risky."

"It's the perfect set up, silly!" Yoona exclaimed, "You're a producer at Hybe. If the public ever finds out a thing, the company will just say that you're working together. As long as you don't get caught kissing or holding hands in public, it's not that suspicious."

You sighed, thinking through her words. She was right, but you were still reluctant.

"Don't overthink. Just see how it goes," Yoona said softly, "If all goes to shit, just be friends. You were friends for 10 years before dating."

"Does that count? We were children," you hummed, "I remember more from when we were dating."

"Okay fine. If all goes to shit, quit your job and move back here," she glared, "But you won't do that, would you? So make it work; the universe gave you a second chance."

A second chance, you repeated to yourself. It was up to you what you were going to do with it.

- 

"Welcome to the 6th-floor dorm," Joshua whispered quietly, leading you into a modern and bright apartment. It was quite evident that boys lived there if the endless consoles at the TV and the wall of shoes by the door told you anything. It wasn't messy, but the organised clutter made it seem like it was, "Sorry about the mess. The only clean dorm is Wonwoo and Mingyu's."

"Is anyone here?" you looked around.

"Uh, I don't think so. Myungho's usually upstairs with Jun and Vernon, and Coups is probably on the 8th floor with Jeonghan or out eating." Joshua led you through the apartment, ending up at the door at the end of the hallway, "This is where no magic happens."

His room was fairly organised; his guitar sat in the corner and posters of his favourite band were placed strategically on his walls. Joshua was glad he had done his laundry the day before since they usually littered the couch that was placed under the window.

"It's nice," you smile, "Reminds me of your room at home."

"That's what I was going for," he uttered, sitting on the bed, "I know I've been in Korea for like a third of my life now, but home will always be home. I miss it."

"How long has it been since you went back?"

"I went to LA at the start of last year for tour, but I couldn't even go back home," he sighed, "I really want to see everyone again. How're our friends?"

"I call Yoona almost every day. She's getting married," you smiled, "The others I keep in touch with when they come back to LA from all the corners of the world they moved to after high school."

"Yoona's getting married already?" his eyes widened.

"25's a pretty normal age to get married," you shrugged, thinking about your best friend who had been with her boyfriend from college for 5 years now. 

"Damn, I lost a bet with Jae-seok then," Joshua chuckled, "I'm surprised he hasn't called to claim his money from me."

"What bet?"

"It's silly but we bet back in high school who'd get married first in the friendship group. He said Yoona would. He said that she's had her wedding planned since she was like 11."

"She has. That was a pretty safe bet. Who did you bet on?"

Joshua smirked, "Us, of course."

You blushed red, turning to look away from him. You let your eyes wander around the room. A small patch of wall was covered in polaroids, arranged in a grid pattern, with writing on the white slips at the bottom.

"You can investigate," Joshua permitted, seeing your gaze on the wall.

The majority of them were pictures of him and his members. Some were old- probably from their training days and a lot were more recent since they seemed to resemble his grown features. Your eyes caught on one around the bottom left corner. It was a polaroid of you and him, smiling sweetly at the camera in front of the castle at Disneyland in Anaheim. His arm was around your waist, the other throwing up a peace sign and you were mirroring his pose. 

Joshua smiled from behind you, plucking the polaroid away from the adhesive on the wall and flashing you the back that was covered in white marker.

"For my prince," he read out loud, grinning, "When you wish upon a star, your dreams come true."

"I forgot I wrote that," you smiled to yourself, "Thanks for keeping it."

"It's one of my favourites," Joshua returned its space on the wall, "And you look so beautiful in it."

"Still the gentleman, huh?"

He smirked again, "Haven't you heard, darling? That's my brand now."

You joined in with his laughter, "They should get to know the real you. Let's see what they say then."

Joshua took a seat next to you on the couch, "That's only for you to know."

His close proximity had your heart speeding up and caused your breath to hitch, "Why are you so close? Go back over there."

"Am I making you nervous?" he smiled innocently.

"When did you get this brave, huh?" you shuffled a little further down the seat, but he followed.

"I've always been brave. That's how you get everything you want. By being brave and taking chances," he dropped his voice to a whisper, closing even more distance between the two of you.

If you knew better, you'd think he was going to kiss you. He wouldn't right? Yeah, his head was getting closer to yours, but what did that mean?

"What are you thinking about?" he asked you.

You laughed nervously, "Nothing. Nothing at all."

"Well I'm thinking about how much I've missed you," he admitted, "And how much I want to-"

A loud thump sounded against Joshua's door, followed by high pitch shrieks. Then you heard a faint voice yell, "What are you idiots doing?"

Joshua groaned loudly, shaking his head as he stood up and bee-lined to the door. Upon opening it, Hoshi, Jun and Dino fell into Joshua's room.

"Are you guys serious?" Joshua growled, "I'm going to kill you all."

"Don't blame us!" Hoshi put his hands up, "We just came to collect Myungho for practice, but then he said he heard a girl's voice."

Minghao was standing in the hallway behind the three that had been peered up against the door, a bashful look on his face, "You should've told me you were having a girl over, hyung."

"I didn't think you were home!" Joshua defended, "What are you doing here, Jeonghan?"

"I was going to ask if you wanted to go out for dinner with me and Cheol. Then I found these three bozos with their ears pressed against the door and Myungho not even stopping them! Hi Y/N, by the way."

You waved awkwardly, refusing to budge from the couch.

"You know who she is?" Dino asked curiously.

"She's the new producer at Hybe, you idiots. Why does no one pay attention?" Jeonghan revealed.

"Hyung! You woo'ed the new producer?" Jun exclaimed incredulously, amazed at the idea.

"Oh my God. I can't take it anymore!" Joshua cried out, "Call everyone here. Band meeting. Now."

That was how you found yourself squished on a couch in their apartment, endless pairs of curious eyes on you in a silent room. Joshua was sat next to you, squinting at his members.

"Do any of you know the meaning of boundaries?" Joshua then glared specifically at Seungkwan and Seokmin, "Or making guests feel comfortable?"

"Uh, what is this about, hyung?" Mingyu piped up from an adjacent couch, entirely confused.

"You're all going to find out one day, so I'd rather just tell all of you now at once, but this is Y/N, our new producer at Hybe," Joshua explained. You watched as Vernon's eyes widened in realisation, "Yes, she's also my ex-girlfriend from home. The one I've told you all about."

Noise suddenly filled the room as the boys connected the dots and began talking over each other to fire endless questions. 

"Are you dating again?" Chan was ever so curious.

"No."

"Yes."

A collective 'aw!" filled the room as you and Joshua looked at each other.

"No, we're not," you clarified.

"Yet!" Joshua piped up.

"Says who? I haven't agreed to anything!"

Jeonghan laughed from around his lover's arm, "Look at them, Cheollie. They make me sick."

"Shut up, Jeonghan," Joshua fired to his best friend, "Anyway. That's all. You nosy, invasive people can all leave now."

"But I have so many questions," Soonyoung pouted.

Joshua glared at all of them, practically forcing all of them out of the apartment with his deadly gaze, "Get out."

- 

Two days later, you were back in the studio after a weekend off. You had spent that time recuperating from the stressful ordeals of the week before and also exploring the city a bit more. Going out by yourself was always one of your favourite activities since you could create any schedule and itinerary you wanted without worrying about pleasing another person.

Joshua had pouted to you over text the whole weekend since he had to spend the entirety of it at dance practice for their comeback. He didn't have time to see you but promised to take you out to dinner on Monday night. 

Monday morning, you were met with coffee on the floor in front of your studio again. You picked it up, happy to see that Joshua had signed it off with a heart. He had told you that it would be too risky to leave his name on it in case someone picked it up randomly, and so the both of you just agreed to leave names off. 

You shot him a thank you text for once, and he replied saying he'd come and visit on his break. You felt like a school girl once again, giggling over her crush. It was nice having a crush again, even if you'd been in love with said crush for 12 years. 

His break came 4 hours later, around lunchtime when Joshua turned up at your door with cups of iced tea and a plastic bag filled with Tupperwares of food.

"You're my new lunch buddy now," Joshua grinned at you, setting up the food at the table in the corner of the room.

"How will your poor members feel?" you awed.

"They'll get over it. I want to spend time with my princess."

You rolled your eyes, hiding the blush that invaded your cheeks, "Don't call me that."

"You love it," Joshua teased, "Anyway, I got us tteokbokki and chicken. I know you love Korean fried chicken."

"I've been getting my fix since I came here, don't worry," you think about how you've been ordering chicken to your apartment almost daily.

"Eat up," he offered, "And don't worry. I didn't forget about tonight?"

"Tonight?" you feigned forgetfulness.

"Shut up, Y/N. Our date."

"Date?" you spluttered, "I didn't agree to a date!"

Joshua laughed, "Would you say no?"

"Well, you didn't ask!" you defended, your heart suddenly beating fast again.

Joshua placed his cutlery down, taking your hands and instructing you to look at him, "Okay, well, will you go on a date with me?"

You looked down, failing to mask your smile as you mumbled a small yes.

"What was that? Couldn't hear you?" Joshua teased.

You rolled your eyes and bumped your arm against his, "Yes, I will go on a date with you."

"That's what I thought. I'll pick you up at 8."

-

You were dressed in a pretty floral dress- nothing fancy or over the top- adorned with tights, boots and a light coat to combat the spring breeze. You had been slipping on your favourite gold jewellery when the doorbell rang through your small apartment.

"Is he here?" Yoona called from your phone propped up on your vanity.

"I think," you grinned nervously, "I gotta go."

"Have a good time, okay? Tell me all about it! I'm so excited for you," she blew you a kiss before dropping the call. 

You made sure that your curling iron was off and switched off the light in your bedroom before racing to the front door. Hand on a handle, you took a deep breath to calm you down before opening it. 

"There's my princess," Joshua grinned his dashing smile, clutching a bouquet of flowers.

"You remembered," a shy smile took over your face with his greeting. 

You had gone on a million dates with the guy in front of you, but you would still get nervous each time. You had gone on a million dates with Joshua, and each time you opened the door, he would croon the same line and same endearment, usually alongside offering flowers. 

"Chrysanthemums, gardenias and baby's breath," he chanted as he looked down at the bouquet of flowers before offering it to you. 

One summer when you were young teenagers, you and Joshua learned the language of flowers and since then, he had always given you flowers with the right meanings.

"Do you still remember what they mean?" you asked curiously as you took it and slipped out of the apartment. You saw flowers as accessories - carrying them around with you made your outfit look so sweet and romantic.

"Chrysanthemums symbolise longevity, optimism, joy and fidelity. White gardenias are trust, hope, renewal, innocence and new beginnings. Baby's breaths for innocence and everlasting love," as casual as he spoke, Joshua slipped his fingers between yours as you walked to the elevator. It had made you jump slightly, but you quickly relaxed in his grasp. Holding hands was always one of his favourite forms of physical touch.

"Ever the romantic," you quipped, smiling at his gift, "Thank you, Jisoo. They're beautiful."

He held in any flirtatious rebuttals that threatened to spill past his lips and instead smiled softly at you, taking in your beauty that was only inches away from him instead of 6000 miles. You took the elevator to the basement garage, where Joshua had parked his car close to the elevator. 

"No way," you stifled a laugh as he unlocked his car and the lights flashed, "Are you serious?"

Joshua pouted, opening the door for you as he stroked the side of the car, "What? She's my baby!"

"A Ferrari? Hong Jisoo, who are you?" 

He got into the driver's side, rolling his eyes, "She's beautiful. You know I've always wanted a sports car and I could afford it."

"Fine, I guess it goes with your hot eligible bachelor at 25 image," you were still giggling as he pulled out of the garage.

"I am hot and 25, but I am certainly not eligible," his eyes were focused on the road, "I never have been."

"Are you telling me you haven't dated anyone in the past 7 years?"

"Nope, didn't have time," he admitted, "Well, not really since the others date, but I just didn't want to. What about you?"

"Yoona would set me up on a million dates and try to wing-woman me at downtown bars on Friday nights, but never a second date. She said all I ever did was compare them to you," you sighed.

"Me too. I was always looking for you in other people, and that was just not healthy. Eventually, I just stopped going on dates," Joshua said, "Were you lonely?"

"Jesus, Joshua. I thought we were going on a date, not having a therapy session!" you exclaimed at the sombre question, "But I guess so. I guessed I just never stopped missing you."

Joshua hummed in unspoken agreement and left you to hum along to the song on the radio while peering up at the city lights illuminating the streets. Eventually, he turned into a street and told you that you were there. He parked at a nearby garage and opened the door for you with an offering hand. You grasped his hand securely and he led the way to the fanciest BBQ restaurant you had ever seen. Usually, K-BBQ restaurants had a chilled vibe with colleagues gathering around long tables with bottles of beer and couples having relaxed dates by the windows. This one was dripping in opulence with people drinking wine out of long-stemmed glasses as they grilled high-quality meat.

"2 for Hong," Joshua said quietly to the maitre d'. Masks covered both of your faces, to his request, in case anyone recognised you on the streets.

"Right this way, Mr Hong," the maitre d' gave you a smile to acknowledge your presence as he led you along the side wall of the restaurant to another extension of the restaurant, which appeared as a long hallway with numerous sliding bamboo doors on each side. You were taken to a private room with a large table, but only two seats facing each other. The waiter set down a menu in front of each of you, before instructing you how to order the food to come to the room and promptly leaving.

"Idols must know the best private places to take their dates," you chuckled at the idea.

"I asked Cheol and Jeonghan. Those two are lucky since they can go on as many dinners in public as they want without it being too suspicious, but they said this was a good private place," Joshua's eyes scanned the menu, "And I remember you said when we were young that you want to do Korean barbecue in Korea because it was so stupid but so traditional."

"I did say that, huh?" you recalled fondly on the memory of you and Joshua exploring Korea on Google Maps and planning out a trip that you never ended up going on, because he moved there instead, "You have a very good memory, Hong Jisoo."

"And I remember everything else you said you wanted to do," Joshua smiled softly, "I promise I'll take you to Namsan Tower with a padlock with our names on it on the first snowfall of the season. You'll just have to stay with me until then."

Pink was the new favourite colour of your cheeks, "Don't make promises you can't keep, Joshua. It's only spring."

"I'm going to keep that one, Y/N. I promise," you've never heard sincerity like that. It made your heart leap bounds and miles, but as always, you were the more realistic one. For now, you kept your optimism and hoped alongside him that that would happen one day. 

The two of you ordered the fanciest meats on the menu, to his insistence and a bottle of red wine that Joshua insisted tasted amazing. Apparently, he had been educated on wine due to spending a lot of time with his band member Minghao going to wine tastings in fancy vineyards. 

The two of you engaged in light-hearted conversation, mainly reminiscing about your high school days together and the antics of your friendship group. You then told him the funny stories from your time at college in your home town and all the new friends you made, while he told you tales from the green practice room and all about his members who he grew to love as siblings. Joshua had been an only child and had always wanted siblings, but thanks to his path in life, he had gained 12. He told you how much of a handful they were at times, but also how caring and thoughtful they were and how they all showed him love in different ways. 

"Did you have a good time?" At the end of the night, Joshua was stood on the other side of the threshold, loosely holding your hand and playing with your fingers.

"I had the best time, Shua," you said sincerely, holding the bouquet with your free arm, "We should do it again sometime."

Joshua smirked, "Asking me out on a second date already, Y/N? You must really like me."

"What can I say? My date was very charming," you flirted back, "Very handsome too. And he has a Ferrari."

A chuckle erupted from his throat as he leaned his body over closer to you, "He sounds like a bad boy with a Ferrari. Or do you prefer gentlemen?"

You don't know if it was all that wine talking, or his familiar scent invading your nasal cavity and intoxicating you, but you boldly stepped closer to him, feet on the threshold of your door and eyes flickering between his plush lips and his darkening eyes, "I don't care, as long as it's you."

Joshua seemed to quickly catch onto your signals, tongue darting out and coating the surface of his lips as he pulled his head even closer, squashing all the distance away. It seemed like he was tempting you to make the first move.

"Are you going to kiss me, Hong?"

Joshua smirked valiantly, snaking his arms around your waist, pulling you flush against his chest and connecting your lips for the first time in 7 years. 

- 

Jihoon knocked on your studio door, a knowing smile already on his face as you opened it, "Morning Y/N."

"Jihoon! Why are you here at 9 am sharp?"

Jihoon crossed his arms, "Because we have a 9 am dance practice."

"And?"

"And Joshua did not leave the dorm with Coups and Myungho. And they said they knocked on his door before they left and no one answered and no one was inside."

You held back a laugh, "What's that go to do with me?"

"Well, we all knew that Shua was going on his very first date in years last night," Jihoon continued, "So he either left the dorms incredibly early or didn't even come back home last night. I thought you'd know something about that."

"I have no idea what you're talking about," you huffed playfully, avoiding his gaze, "Maybe you should try texting him."

"Oh, Jihoon. What are you doing here?" with his perfect timing, Joshua appeared behind Jihoon, carrying two coffee cups and handing one to you, "Why aren't you in the practice room?"

"Because you're not and they sent me to hunt for you," Jihoon deadpanned, "Yesterday's clothes? Really, Shua?"

Joshua rolled his eyes, "I told Jeonghan to bring me spare clothes."

"Well Jeonghan hasn't arrived yet, and you didn't tell anyone else where you disappeared to!" Jihoon rebutted, "Now hurry up."

Joshua barged past his bandmate to reach your side. You handed him his coat that was folded on your couch and sent him a loving smile as you took a sip from your usual coffee, "I'll see you later, princess."

Jihoon made vomiting noises behind the two of you as Joshua planted a kiss on your cheek that left you flustered and giggling. He tugged the lovestruck boy by the sleeve, urging him to leave so they could start their practice.

"See you guys later. Always nice to see you, Jihoon!"

-

SEPTEMBER, 2021 - SEOUL

Yoona screeched as she spotted you at the end of the arrivals walkway. She immediately began jogging, abandoning her bags beside you as she pulled you into a tight hug.

"I missed you so much, you have no idea," she murmured into your neck.

"It's only been 4 months since I left, Yoona," you reminded her, "But I still missed you so much too."

"But spring ended and summer came and went! We have so much to catch up on," Yoona sighed, "But I have a surprise for you!"

"A surprise?"

Yoona beckoned over two women who were wearing masks and sunglasses, and performed jazz hands, "Am I not the best friend ever?"

The two ladies in disguise stripped off their costumes, only to reveal two of the most important mothers in your life, "Eomma? Mrs Hong? You're in Korea!"

Your mother squealed and wrapped you up in a tight hug before passing you over to Joshua's mother who called you out, "You can call me sieomeoni again, apparently. I heard from a little bird that you've reconciled with my son. How could you two keep that from us for so long! So many months of wedding planning lost."

Your mother chuckled, nudging you in the side, "As if we ever stopped planning their wedding over our lunch dates. Anyway, did you really think we were gonna miss our favourite adopted child's wedding?"

Yoona smiled innocently, twiddling with her bags, "It was a long flight, Y/N. They prodded it out of me!"

Your best friend of 11 years was about to get married. She had been planning two weddings of similar importance, until she came to the epiphany of having an initial large wedding in Korea instead, followed by a small gathering of close friends in Los Angeles, since most of her family and her fiancee's family were still in Korea and their immediate family were willing to travel. Yoona's fiancee had reached Korea earlier to deal with some logistical sides to the wedding.

"Of course, we weren't gonna miss our Yoona's wedding," Mrs Hong said as the four of you began to walk to the exit, "Plus, it gave me an excuse to come to Korea again and see my son after a year and a half."

"What about appa? And Mr Hong?" you queried.

Your mother rolled her eyes light-heartedly, "Oh please. They are having the time of their lives on the little fishing trip we sent them on. Found all the Korean uncles a little cabin by a lake and suggested they make a whole trip out of it. They're delighted."

You laughed, leaning into your mother's side affectionately and smiling at your best friend and Mrs Hong, "Does Joshua know you're coming, sieomeoni?"

"No," she revealed, "Does he have any plans tonight? I was thinking we go out to eat and we can surprise him there!"

"Well, we were going out for dinner with Yoona so this is perfect! We're going to a restaurant with a private room so even better for reunions. Maybe I'll pick you guys up and we get there first and then I'll make sure Shua comes after us?"

"He's going to be so happy, Y/N," his mother sighed. 

Joshua had always been a mother's boy and you knew how much it hurt him to move away from his parents in the first place. That boy had begged and begged for them to move with him, but his parents had set their roots in Los Angeles already and couldn't imagine moving back until they retired. It even hurt him to keep your reunion a secret from his mom, who would have been so thrilled to know, but the two of you wanted to take things slow and it had been just over 3 months of bliss. 

You loaded their suitcases into the back of your large car that you bought recently. Having a car was definitely an advantage in the city; it felt like you had more freedom. It was also better for your day-trip car rides with Joshua since his Ferrari got a bit cramped sometimes. 

The drive to Seoul from Incheon was spent catching up on their travel day and complaining about the busy airports. Before you knew it, you were already dropping them off to their hotel and heading back to your studio in the Hybe building, where you found Joshua napping on your couch.

The sound of your door opening and closing woke him up and he flashed you a sweet, sleepy smile, "Hey, practice ended early so I waited here for you. How's Yoona?"

"She's great. Excited about her wedding in a week, of course. I was thinking we take separate cars to dinner though? Yoona wants me to get ready with her at her hotel for old time's sake," you feigned. 

"Aw, that's sweet. Of course. We can just meet at the restaurant. If you get there first, the booking is under my name!" 

You did end up getting ready with your best friend, catching her up with your new relationship while she told you everything else she got up to while you were away and new wedding details.

"I can't believe you're getting married already, Yoona," you sighed, watching from the bed as your best friend curled her hair.

"I know right? Sucks though because I lost a bet from high school to Jaeseok on who'd get married first. He was the only one that said me!"

"You were in on the bet too? Why am I the only one who didn't know about the bet?" you exclaimed. 

"Everyone was in on it," she shrugged, "All of us bet on you and Joshua though, so we all lost. I don't know why Jaeseok picked me. He probably thought I'd elope with a stranger in Vegas."

"No, he picked you because on Powerpoint night at my house, you did yours on the plans for your future wedding, while I ranked the Barbie movies and Joshua told us the history of Super Junior," you deadpanned, "Anyways, it's too early to be thinking about marriage for me."

Yoona scoffed, "If Joshua got down on one knee tonight, you'd say yes. If Joshua randomly dropped by your college dorm all those years you were broken up and turned up with a ring, you would have said yes. You've been in love with him since you were a kid, so just pretend those 7 years didn't happen!"

"I wouldn't say yes!" you defended even though it was a complete lie, "Plus, he's an idol. Marriage is not in his cards, right now."

"You never know, Y/N," she hummed, "Chen from Exo announced out of the blue last year that he was getting married, with a child on the way. Joshua is smitten with you, absolutely besotted. You two have been picturing you growing old together since before you even actually grew up!"

You rolled your eyes, heart fluttering at the thought of the house on the coast that the two of you always envisioned, "Let's get you married first before we start talking about me. Come on, we're going to be late for dinner."

With the mothers in the back of the car and your best friend in the passenger seat, you found yourself at the front of the restaurant quickly. You had already called ahead under his name to change to a larger room with 5 seats and convinced them to not double-check with Joshua, since he was the one to make the reservation, so you were confident the plan would go well. 

Indeed, you arrived before him and had already ordered food for the table when Joshua eventually showed up. He had texted you that he pulled up to parking, so you waited outside the room for him.

"You look very dashing," you lifted yourself up to press a kiss to his jaw, "Yoona has a surprise for you?"

Before he could say anything, you opened the door and let his eyes scan the room before he came to the realisation. He made a choking noise as he ran over to his mother, engulfing her in a tight hug, "Eomma! What are you doing here?"

"I thought it'd be nice to attend Yoona's wedding here in Korea and see you again, of course," his mother murmured against his shoulder. Joshua was sniffling, and that made your heart so happy. 

He quickly hugged your best friend, thanking her for the idea, before turning to your mother, "Jangmonim! It's been so long!"

"You grew up so well, Jisoo," your mother grinned, "What a handsome boy you are now. You've always been. Thank you for keeping my daughter company in this big new city."

Joshua looked over at you, fondness in his eyes, "It was always my pleasure."

- 

After the dinner and the day after you spent alone with your best friend, you didn't see Yoona often. She was busy finalising all the details of the ceremony and conducting all the many pre-wedding traditions with her family and the groom's family. Instead, you spent them with your mother and Joshua's mother when you would get off work. While you were at work, the two best friends would explore Seoul in their most touristy get-ups. 

More often than not, Joshua would join the three of you in the evening after getting emergency special permission from his company to have evenings off. He hadn't known his mother was coming, but he wanted to spend as much time with all of you. 

You spent the evenings restaurant-hopping around Seoul and talking about your new job. You had fully settled in now and you had started writing and producing songs for the artists, instead of just helping to edit and finalise already-written tracks. You hadn't worked with Seventeen yet, since they already had such great producers in Universe Factory and there was a little conflict of interest, but Joshua was desperate to work with you again. 'For old time's sake' he would say with a pleading smile.

It eventually reached the day of your best friend's wedding and you had helped to get her ready in the morning. Although you were taking Joshua as your date, you wanted to be at the side of your best friend before you sent her off to her new life. She was nervous, obviously, but so excited to be married to the love of her life. You found yourself thinking how it'd be nice to do that too. 

Her pristine hanbok glimmered in the pictures that you took with her in her private reception room to greet the guests. You had been the first to pay her a visit, leaving with an encouraging smile before you entered the ceremony hall where the groom was greeting other guests. 

Joshua was by your side, holding your hand and smiling gently as he watched your mothers take a seat in the second row on the bride's side, "It's beautiful."

Joshua took a seat beside his mother as you took the aisle seat. Joshua's mother leaned over him, "Y/N, dear, you want to have a Korean wedding too, right?"

Joshua groaned quietly, nudging his mother to stop, but you just laughed, "Yes, sieomeoni. A big wedding in Korea and a big wedding in Los Angeles."

Joshua flashed you a bashful smile and squeezed your hand, a somewhat of a silent promise. 

The ceremony eventually started and you would be lying if you said you didn't cry when Yoona and her husband drank their separate wines before it was mixed and they drank their unified wine again. The way they bowed to their parents was beautiful and the union of their family was so happy. 

After the short ceremony, you had rushed to her side, hugging her affectionately and wailing at how beautiful their vows and ceremony were.

"Now that I'm married, we can talk about yours right?"

- 

OCTOBER, 2021 - SEOUL

Joshua was lying on his stomach on your bed, opening up your laptop to search for a movie to watch together. You had just walked in, hair still wet and in the process of being dried, adorned in his shirt and sleep shorts.

"What's this folder, Y/N?" Joshua called over.

"Don't snoop, nosy," you scolded playfully before leaning over his shoulder to see what he was about to click, "No! Don't open that!'

It was apparently too late since he had double-clicked on the folder already, that opened up to a list of 10 audio files. 

"Are these songs? Can I listen? You never let me listen to your songs anymore," Joshua said excitedly, ending with a pout.

"You can listen to my stuff. Just not these ones," you sighed.

"Why?" his eyes glinted mischievously before he realised, "Oh, are they all about me? Why is the folder called 'for you'? Is 'you' me?"

"I call this folder 'Songs about Joshua Hong, my first heartbreak'."

Joshua beckoned you over, wrapping his strong arms around you, "I'm sorry for breaking your heart. I have no intention to ever do that again."

"I'd let you listen to these songs, but it might involve a lot of tears," you warn him, "Actually, I just finished a song that would be the perfect conclusion to this album - a happy ending, if you will."

"Oh yeah? What's that one called? But we can start slow. What's your favourite song from all these?"

"The new song's called 'Every summertime'," you pressed a kiss to his lips, "You'd love it. I'll let you hear that one, but my favourite one is probably the saddest; I tried to write it as a closure song, so it's about you leaving and me letting you go, but it's very sad."

"We can start with that one," Joshua stroked your cheek softly, "But it won't be sad, since we know the ending."

You exhale nervously, taking over the mouse pad to click the last song, curling up closer to your lover who played with your damp hair. That always calmed you down. 

"Saturday sunset, we're lyin' on my bed, with five hours to go. Fingers entwined and so were our minds cryin', "I don't want you to go". You wiped away tears but not fears under the still and clear indigo. You said, "Baby, don't cry, we'll be fine. You're the one thing I swear I can't outgrow""

Joshua's breath hitched at the memory of all the words he had said to you over the years. That day in his bedroom as you counted down the hours until he had to leave was one of the worst times in his life. Sure, you continued your relationship for nearly a year after, but it was never the same after he left. 

By the end of it, silent tears were pouring out of his eyes and yours alike as he pulled you up to sit up and meet his level, "One, you're incredibly talented. I love being able to see what comes of that smart brain of yours. Two, I'm sorry for all the hurt I caused you over the years," he planted a kiss on your lips with every statement, "Three, I never want to hear you say you're letting go of me. I'm here forever this time around, okay?"

You caught his lips on the final peck and hooked your arms around his neck, "Okay," you murmured against his lips, "You better be, because I don't plan on letting you go again either, Hong Jisoo."

He pulled away for a split second, "I love you, Y/N. I always will."

"I know," you smile softly, eyes lost in his and unfocused on the way the Seoul sunset lit up your room in orange and pink, "And I love you, Jisoo."

-

NOVEMBER 10, 2021 - SEOUL 

Joshua's gloved hand squeezed yours in his pocket as he led you up the stairs. The two of you were bundled up in scarves, hats and gloves while sharing your earphones and listening to IU's sweet voice serenade you. 

The view at the top of the tower was spectacular, showing you the landscape of the entire city before your eyes. You had lived in the city for over 5 months, yet you were still to visit one of the city's most famous attractions, only due to your persistent boyfriend.

"So, when's the snow going to fall?" you said teasingly to your boyfriend, "You're such a romantic."

"Shh, Y/N- that's part of the surprise!" he dismissed.

"It would have been a surprise if you didn't keep stopping me coming here, saying you'd only take me on the day of the first snow," you reminded him.

"This was your bucket list goal, so don't blame me for ruining the surprise," Joshua huffed playfully, "We're going to wait for the snow up here, and then when we get down, we can lock our padlock somewhere."

He took out the padlock from his other pocket, showing you the side with your initials etched and marked on. Your heart swooned, "Thank you, Shua."

Joshua's eyes softened as he pulled you closer. It was incredibly cold on the ground of the mountain, and it was even colder 239m up. He wrapped his arms around you and peppered kisses on the crown of your head.

You were both thinking the same thing- how lucky the two of you were to be given a second chance and for it to work out. Joshua Hong had always been your perfect person, perfect time; you just happened to be blessed twice with the opportunity of having the giddy, honeymoon start of the relationship.

"The snow's falling," Joshua whispered, pulling you away so you could look into his eyes, "Make a wish, princess."

You watched as a few flakes settled on the tips of his nose before melting away before you closed your eyes. It was easy; you had been making the same wish since you were 13..

"I love you, Y/N," he scrunched up his nose, pecking your lips, "Remember when I said you get everything you want if you're brave and take chances?"

"Mhm?"

"I don't have a ring, but marry me, Y/N."

You peered up at him in shock, only to find his eyes full of certainty and love, "Really? Is that an actual proposal?"

"Depends if you say yes," he teased.

You chuckled, and the smile that followed after would soon be embedded in your brain and etched in your heart, "Of course, I'll marry you."

- 

[FOR YOU; SONGS ABOUT JOSHUA HONG, MY FIRST HEARTBREAK]

1. Take A Chance With Me - written at 14, at the start of freshman year; confessing your feelings for your childhood and middle school best friend. Joshua played it accidentally when snooping on your producing software while you were setting the table downstairs for dinner.

"His kiss you'd kill for, just one and you're done for. Electricity surging in the air ; he drives me crazy. It's so beyond me how he'd look me dead in the eye. Stay unaware that I'm hopelessly captivated by a boy who thinks love's overrated."

-

2. Move! - written at 17, trying out something new with your sound, and of course it was going to be about your loving boyfriend at the time

"There's something in the water that makes me love you harder."

-

3. Around - written at 18, before Joshua moved away; a love song to your boyfriend who you never wanted to lose.

"Darling, we don't ever have to pretend, who knows what or who we choose. Right now I've nothing to lose; you love me, I love you."

-

4. Before - written at 18, while Joshua was away in Seoul and you were in your hometown, having to pretend everything was okay. You visited him once in Seoul for three days, never meeting his trainee-friends. He didn't have a new lover, just a new career. You hated having to pretend everything was okay.

"You were all I'd ever known. And now I'm supposed to love you from a distance, like it's nothing, like it's instant and you say, "Let's just see where this goes" and I don't know how or why you seem just fine cause I'm having to grasp that you're somehow not mine anymore. It's so cruel how things are only almost like they were before."

-

5. Lullaby - written at 19, the first song you wrote after you broke up, a song professing how much you missed him and how much you hated that you did.

"My heart was high off you. Am I deranged to miss you? After the way you left my heart blue and bruised - lingering scents of roses and smoke and love and hope and two adventurous souls."

-

6. Polaroid Boy - written at 19, fresh off your breakup with Joshua, angry that the relationship ended and hurt that he was everywhere around your room in the form of tiny polaroids.

"You'll forever be the boy in my polaroids. You'll forever be the reason why I am void. You'll forever be my first love. And the reason why nobody else ever seems enough."

-

7. Vintage - written at 20, a year after breaking up with Joshua after a dream you reconciled when he came back to Los Angeles. Made a great song, but just left you heartbroken when you realised he wasn't coming back.

"Speak of the devil, my, oh my, walkin' with that devilish smile. That's one thing I haven't seen in a while. How have you been since I called you mine? You look so good in this light, got me reminiscin' 'bout our good times."

-

8. Odds - written at 20, a song being angry about how you weren't in the universe's favour. Joshua had no exes other than you, but you had to get creative.

"And yet my world remains the whole of you to this day. Doesn't matter what my location says. I'm always tryna get to you..."

-

9. Anaheim - written at 18, finished at 22, a song about wanting to go back in time with someone you had a great relationship with. Finished in your favourite café in Anaheim, after a drive that you spent reminiscing about your relationship. Started during your year-long long-distance relationship when he tried to make it work, and you saw that it wasn't working.

"I could spend my days studying your laugh's melody. And I can live with myself 'cause I know the composer's me. Babe, all I ask of you is please don't sleep on the bed of promises I can't keep."

-

10. Oceans and Engines - written at 24, the last song you wrote and finished about Joshua. The rawest and most honest song that had ever come from your heart. Heard by no one. Your closure song, except it never gave you any closure.

"Saturday sunset, we're lyin' on my bed, with five hours to go. Fingers entwined and so were our minds cryin', "I don't want you to go". You wiped away tears but not fears under the still and clear indigo. You said, "Baby, don't cry, we'll be fine. You're the one thing I swear I can't outgrow""

-

[NEW ENTRY!]

11. Every Summertime - written at 25, on the beach as Joshua napped on the sun bed next to yours by the sea. A perfect happy ending to your story.

"Every year we get older, but I'm still on your side. Oh, I- Baby, I'd give up anything to travel inside your mind. Baby, I fall in love again come every summertime."

[stonecoldsilly]

Domestic Bliss

Chapter One - The Bonds Of Matrimony

(( TW: lots of swearing, lots of derogatory but joking uses of the word 'fat' ))

Geralt is sitting at the bar about three bottles down when Jaskier walks in behind him, and as soon as he smells that familiar lemon-polish and honeysuckle scent, he looks about wildly and genuinely considers jumping the bar to escape. He really does just want to drink alone and be miserable for a bit, but Jaskier will insist on cheering him up, and what’s worse is that it will probably work too.

Jaskier spots him and makes his way over, but he doesn’t look his usual bouncy self.

‘One more for me and my pal here,’ he says to the innkeeper, and pats his shoulder in greeting before sinking down onto the stool next to him.

‘Fuck off Jaskier.’ Geralt says, and Jaskier just stares him down.

The innkeeper returns with a fresh bottle, and Jaskier says waspishly ‘Actually, just my drink, if you don’t mind, see, I thought this was my good friend Geralt, but I’ve mistaken him for whoever the fuck this miserable twat is. I’d cut him off if I were you, those Witchers get a bit bitey when they’ve had a few.’

The innkeeper looks between them, nervously.

Geralt sighs. ‘Fuck off, please?’

‘What crawled up your arse and died? I only left last week.’

Geralt looks into the bottom of his empty glass and contemplates his place in the universe solemnly. Jaskier relents eventually and beckons the innkeeper back for a refill. When the innkeeper fucks off again, Geralt downs his glass, and Jaskier leans closer.

‘Come on Geralt, talk to me.’

‘I went to see Yen for a few days, but she kicked me out this morning. Said she was done with me.’

‘Oh, fuck buddy, that’s rough.’ He snags the bottle and refills their glasses. They look at the drinks. They drink the drinks.

After a suspiciously long silence Geralt looks at Jaskier, who is slumped on his stool, not even attempting to catch the gaze of any of the pretty girls eyeing him.

‘What about you?’ He tries.

‘The Countess said about the same thing to me, what, about half an hour ago?’

‘Fuck.’ Says Geralt, as sympathetically as he can manage.

They look at the drinks. They drink the drinks.

Geralt is sunk deep into appreciating the little corner of sullen silence they are radiating when Jaskier slams his palms on the bar and hisses ‘Fuck this.’

‘Jaskier-‘ Geralt tries, valiantly, to cut him off before he reaches full steam.

‘No seriously, fuck this! We are two of the most attractive men on this thrice-accursed Continent, those fucking bitches…we didn’t need them anyway! I mean look at you, you’re decent enough when you’ve had a bath, you’re great in the sack, you’ve got all your own teeth, what’s not to like?’

‘Thanks.’ Says Geralt, drily.

‘Throw Roach in to sweeten the deal and I’d marry you in a heartbeat, I don’t know what’s wrong with that witch.’

‘We always end up fighting.’ Geralt says, glumly.

‘Yes, and we always end up fighting as well, but I wouldn’t be stupid enough to kick you out of bed.’

Horrifyingly, his eyes feel a little damp at the reassurance.

‘Thanks Jaskier, you’re a good friend.’ He manages. ‘You’re pretty great too, as well.’

‘I’m the best fucking bard Oxenfurt has ever seen!’

‘Too right,’ says Geralt, warming to the subject. ‘And you have your teeth as well.’

‘Don’t have a horse though.’ Jaskier looks rather dejected at the thought, and Geralt slaps his own palms on the bar.

‘Hey, you’ve got your lute, haven’t you?’

‘Marissa said she’d rather listen to a badger being waxed than any more of my songs.’

Geralt is struck with a deep and intense surge of fellow-feeling for the Countess but hides his laughter in his glass before Jaskier catches it. The bard swings his leg morosely, kicking at Geralt’s already scuffed boots under the bar.

He offers up his own lover’s parting words. ‘Yen said she’d portal me straight into the sea if I showed up again.’

‘Gods, what a world.’ Jaskier looks even more upset at this, and horrifyingly, tears start brimming in his eyes. ‘It’s just not fair Geralt, you poor sod, I really thought you and Yen would work out.’

‘Hey, Jaskier…er…don’t cry.’ He pats his shoulder but that only makes things worse.

‘You both liked black so much!’ Jaskier wails, downright weeping now.

He’s seen Jaskier on the outs with his Countess before, and it usually manifests in the poet vacillating wildly between outright misery and righteous fury. Come to think of it, Jaskier’s seen him through a few of him and Yen’s more turbulent patches as well, but they’ve never managed to sync up before.

‘Hang on a minute. They don’t know each other, do they?’

‘What, Yennefer and Marissa? I dread to think. They both like to stick their noses everywhere they can, that’s for sure.’

Geralt lets that rather terrifying thought slide, and flags down the innkeeper again, rummaging for Jaskier’s coin purse at his hip. Jaskier lets him, well used to sharing everything they own save their shoes, if only because Jaskier has remarkably dainty feet.

Jaskier perks up when the drinks arrive, and Geralt lets him, reasoning that if at least one of them is miserable at a time then the evening won’t be too bad. He sighs, but Jaskier is relentless.

‘You know what we should do?’

‘What?’

‘We should go dancing.’

‘What.’ He says flatly.

‘Dancing! You and me, painting the town red. C’mon, like the good old days.’

‘When have we ever danced?’

‘Exactly. You never take me dancing. I love dancing. I used…I used to dance with Marissa.’

Tears threaten to spill again, and Geralt hastily agrees before Jaskier starts bawling properly.

He downs his drink, and completely fails to notice Jaskier’s grin as they leave.

Three taverns, four inns, and what appears to be a secret speak-easy later, Geralt is treading beyond pissed and tipping straight into the drunkest he’s ever been. Jaskier dangles off his arm, very thoroughly danced with, covered in remnants of makeup and looking flushed and debauched. Jaskier passes the pipe back to the kind prostitute he found, and they are commiserating about lost love and smoking their way through what looks like an entire bag of pipeweed while Geralt watches the room spin and hiccups into his enormous cocktail of spirits.

‘And then, I said, of course I’d marry him, the daft sod.’ He tunes back in to hear Jaskier yelling in his new friend’s ear while she nods fervently, although how an ordinary human can hear anything over the thumping music and shouting going on, he has no idea.

‘Why don’t you?’ She screams back, and Jaskier grins wickedly and kisses her hands fervently.

‘Good idea!’ He bellows back, and turns back to Geralt.

‘Geralt!’

‘I can hear you, you don’t need to shout!’

‘Gerallllllt.’ Jaskier sways towards him. ‘Listen, listen, listen, yeah? Fuck. Those. Bitches. We don’t need them, not even…not even a little tiny bit. Me and you, the lads, yeah? Fuck them, right? We should get married!’

Enough alcohol has reached his brain that the idea sounds absolutely hilarious.

They stagger back through the cobbled streets to the inn, hours later, arms round each other’s shoulders and making very little progress.

‘I’ve still got a pair of her knickers.’

‘You sad cunt.’ Says Geralt.

‘All I’ve got left in the world. Pair of her knickers. Not even good ones.’

‘Stop fucking whining. D-don’t need her anyway, you’ve got me. And Roach.’

‘Because we’re married!’ Jaskier shouts, and then turns on him. That familiar gleam lights up in Jaskier’s eyes.

‘Geralt, I’ll give you ten crowns. Right here. Right now.’

‘Go on.’

‘If you put them up there.’ And he points to the flagpole next to them, proudly displaying the flag of the Free City of Novigrad.

‘Fuck off.’

‘Nah go on. Ten crowns. Get yourself a new pair of...fucking...massive shoes. Or can the big old Witcher not make it to the top?’

‘Go on then.’

Jaskier presents the Countess’s stolen knickers ceremonially, and Geralt bats his hands away when he tries stuffing them in his mouth.

‘Well you’ll need your hands won’t you, you daft cunt?’

‘They’d better be fucking clean.’

‘Not at liberty to say, mate.’

Geralt lists to the side and stares up at the flagpole blearily. Jaskier takes advantage of his silence and sticks them on his head.

‘Go on then!’

Geralt hiccups, and then makes his way up the pole, creaking under his weight. Jaskier is doubled over with laughter on the ground, tears in his eyes and trying to keep quiet so the patrolling guards don’t hear.

He pulls the knickers off his head and waves them triumphantly in the air before hanging them off the top of the pole and letting himself slide back down to the ground jerkily.

Jaskier wheezes, and Geralt has to bend over and put his hands on his knees to muffle his own laughter. He goes for Jaskier’s coin purse, and Jaskier jabs him in the gut and cackles.

‘Alright, go on then,’ Jaskier says, ‘double or nothing.’

‘There is no way your fat arse is getting up and down that pole.’ Geralt says, judging the height again.

‘Your dad said that last night.’ Jaskier elbows him again in exactly the same spot.

‘Fuck off,’ he says, and slaps his hands away. ‘Go on then. Bet you can’t.’

Jaskier grins wickedly, and proceeds to shimmy up the pole, heaving for breath but making it to the top. ‘I’m King of Novigrad!’ He crows, voice echoing through the empty square.

The flagpole creaks ominously, and snaps.

Jaskier squeals as he drops, and Geralt has a moment to panic before he lifts his arms and catches him. Jaskier shakes with glee and kicks his feet happily, wrapping his arms round Geralt’s neck and pressing a sloppy wet kiss to his cheek.

‘My hero!’

‘Oi!’ Four guards enter the square from the other side, drawn by all the noise. ‘What do you think you’re doing?’

Geralt bolts, Jaskier still in his arms, creasing with laughter and making rude gestures at the guards over his shoulder as they make their escape.

They reach the inn, and Jaskier demands to be carried over the threshold, properly. Geralt smiles and kicks the door open with his foot. He wobbles as he walks, and Jaskier howls vengeance when he bangs his head on the wall.

‘Oh fuck off you fat cunt. Next time you can be the one carrying me.’

He tosses Jaskier on the bed, and then passes out next to him, still in all his armour.

Jaskier wakes up the next day too hungover to breathe. He whines, and keeps his eyes as tightly closed as possible while he reaches for a pillow to smother himself with. Geralt kicks him, and he decides to smother Geralt instead. Ten seconds of feeble flopping later, Jaskier gives in and just swears at him vehemently.

‘What?’

‘Wake up you idiot.’

‘What?’ Jaskier says, louder.

‘We got fucking married.’

‘Fuck off did we.’

‘Well it wasn’t my idea!’

Jaskier opens his eyes at that and tries to work out which Geralt he should be shouting at.

‘You’re chatting shite again.’

‘We got married.’ Says Geralt, and this time he sounds like he can’t believe it himself.

Faint bells ring in the back of his head, and he sits up, horrified.

‘We got fucking married?’

Geralt just nods, and stares back at him, eyes wide and panicked.

‘You limpdick fucking wanker!’ Jaskier shouts and throws a pillow at him. ‘What the hell did you want to marry me for?’

‘Oh well, I’ve secretly always wanted to be a fucking Countess, and then you went and proposed to me so nicely!’ He says, getting wound up.

Jaskier laughs despite himself, and then raises an accusing finger.

‘I knew it! I knew you were after my money.’

‘You gigantic fucking tosspot! You were the one who was all,’ Geralt raises his voice several octaves, ‘oh Geralt let’s be together forever, we don’t need women, we have each other.’

‘In all fairness, these are still valid points and I stand by them. However,’ and Jaskier raises his eyebrows, ‘why the fuck did you say yes?’

‘No idea. Thought it’d be a laugh, probably.’

‘Geralt!’ Jaskier honestly has the nerve to sound outraged. ‘I’m the one with the mad ideas, and you’re supposed to be the voice of reason! How the hell are we going to get anything done if we’re both going round having mad ideas? We’ll be dead by dusk if you carry on like that, honestly.’

‘You want a divorce then?’

‘No way in hell, this is the funniest thing that’s happened to me in years. You?’

‘I hear it’s pretty expensive to get all the paperwork done.’

‘You soppy cunt.’ Jaskier flops back down on the bed and giggles. ‘We’re not having our fucking honeymoon in Novigrad though, I’ll tell you that now.’

‘What am I going to tell Yen?’ Geralt says mournfully.

‘Well, if you see her again, and that’s a big fucking if, I’d go with something along the lines of ‘Yennefer, the ardent passion I’ve hidden for my beloved Jaskier could be denied no longer, and now we are bound forever in holy matrimony.’ You can do it, I believe in you.’

Geralt sits on him.

‘Off off off, gods, not a good start to domestic bliss!’ He wheezes, and Geralt relents.

‘I’ll fucking burst you, you jumped up little bastard.’

‘Do it tomorrow. I feel like shit.’

‘Yeah and you look like it too.’

‘Fuck off,’ Jaskier says affably and rolls over to look at him, ‘and fetch me a bath would you, husband dearest?’

Geralt actually turns pink, and Jaskier has never been one not to pounce on any weakness he finds.

‘Won’t you make me the happiest man on the Continent and fetch your poor aching husband a bath?’ He pouts as prettily as he can, and Geralt blinks at him, and actually does it.

This is going to be brilliant, Jaskier can tell.

‘Cheer up, you miserable fucking scrote.’

Geralt is walking sullenly next to Roach, and for once Jaskier is riding, pointedly displaying his correct posture after years of horsemanship drilled into him as a child, and hoping husband privileges mean he gets to ride more often.

‘Shut up.’

‘C’mon, it’s not so bad as all that. You’re married to your pal, your buddy, your main boy Jaskier! We already fuck like rabbits, we already travel together, it’s not actually all that different from what we already do.’

Surprisingly this seems to work, and Geralt seems to relax a little.

Jaskier waits a minute, for Geralt's mood to lift properly, and then adds, ‘When you die, does that mean I get Roach?’

He slumps again.

Jaskier stops Roach dead in the middle of the road and groans in realisation.

‘Fuck.’

Geralt halts as well and looks at him, worried.

‘What?’

‘You know that night we don’t ever, ever, ever talk about? On pain of instant death? Where you said something really stupid because you thought it would be funny? And gosh, speaking of, thought you’d have learned that lesson by now.’

Geralt grunts at him disapprovingly.

‘Don’t get me wrong, it was fucking hilarious, but I just realised my parents are going to absolutely shit themselves with glee. For fuck’s sake.’

‘What.’ Says Geralt, caught out.

Jaskier looks up at the sky, praying for aid, and then decides restraint has never really been his thing anyway.

‘I’m going to be a shit step-mother, I hope you know that.’

Geralt whistles once, and Roach careens instantly into a gallop beneath him. Jaskier slides straight back out of the saddle and lands flat on his arse in the dirt.

Geralt finally laughs, and Jaskier grins up at him, too relieved to be pissed off.

They make camp that night next to a little stream, and Geralt hunts them a brace of pheasant. Jaskier smiles up at him coyly, and Geralt just stands there awkwardly and clears his throat, flapping his hands as if he doesn’t know what to do with them.

Jaskier gives in and throws a pheasant at his face, and they settle down to plucking peacefully.

‘So this whole marriage thing,’ he begins, and Geralt groans, ‘I think we need some rules.’

‘Like what?’

‘Well, obviously we’re still fucking other people as well.’ Geralt nods, looking vaguely relieved.

‘But I thought, now that I’m your husband and all, is there anyone off-limits?’

Geralt stares at him baffled.

He tries again. ‘Now that you’ve the sole claim to my heart, as it were, is there anyone you definitely do not want me to fuck? And the same goes for you.’

‘Yen.’ Geralt says instantly.

‘Deal, I don’t want frostbite on my dick. Although technically, she did touch my cock before yours, if we’re being pedantic.’

Geralt huffs and tries his best glower, but that has never worked on Jaskier.

‘Let’s make it fair, we each get five people, that the other absolutely cannot fuck, on pain of death.’

‘Why do I only get five? You fuck so many people I can’t possibly pick just five out of the entire goddamn Continent!’

‘Fair’s fair. Five, or else we’d be here all day.’ Jaskier thinks for a moment, eyes darting about sneakily. ‘So mine would be, you cannot fuck the Countess de Stael, or Valdo Marx, or either of my parents, or Queen Calanthe.’

‘Calanthe?’ says Geralt, voice cracking in surprise.

‘Yeah I’m doing you a favour here mate, if that whole suspiciously prickly incident hadn’t happened she would have had you right there on that table.’

‘Fuck off.’

‘Just saving you from vaguely incestuous hate-sex at this point, buddy. And I want the chance, should the opportunity ever come my way. You know I like it when they walk in covered in blood.’

Geralt winks at him, and now it’s Jaskier’s turn to go pink.

‘So mine would be Yennefer, obviously.’

‘Agreed.’

‘Er…Triss Merrigold?’

‘Isn’t she the Temerian mage? Why?’

‘She’s nice and I don’t want her pissed off at me.’

Jaskier laughs and nods in agreement.

Geralt sits bolt upright and says ‘Jaskier, you cannot fuck my brothers.’

‘That’s a shame, Eskel’s quite fit. And I always thought Lambert was sweet on me.’

‘No.’ Geralt says, carefully and explicitly stern.

‘Fine,’ Jaskier huffs, ‘You’ve got one left, choose wisely...’

‘Coen, then.’ Jaskier eyes him carefully. ‘He’s a Griffin, winters with us sometimes.’

‘Okay. Final answer?’

Geralt nods, looking pleased with himself, and they shake on it.

‘The pact is sealed. No take-backs. I will not fuck Yennefer, Triss Merrigold, Eskel, Lambert or Coen.’

And Geralt huffs and says ‘And I will not fuck your Countess, Valdo Marx, your parents or Queen Calanthe.’

They settle down to eat their dinner and then enjoy a lazy shag by the firelight.

Jaskier waits until Geralt is closing his eyes to sleep and leans up on his elbow to watch his face.

‘Just out of interest, how old is Vesemir?’

Geralt’s eyes slam back open and he grabs for Jaskier, who just cackles helplessly, even as Geralt picks him up and dunks him in the river.

He snorts and splutters, and then sings ‘I’m going to fuck your dad,’ and Geralt holds his head under, ‘and then I’m going to divorce you,’ another dunking, ‘and marry him,’ another much longer dunk, ‘and I’m going to send you to bed without any dinner!’

Geralt gets him in a headlock and he splashes in retaliation, and they end up wrestling in the stream until Jaskier is crying with laughter and they are both thoroughly soaked.

They reach the next big town by the end of the week, and Jaskier is pleasantly surprised by how well married life is turning out. Geralt hasn’t gotten used to being called husband yet, and Jaskier has been milking it for all he’s worth, fluttering his eyelashes mercilessly and getting extra breaks and more rides on Roach whenever he asks for them.

As soon as word of their arrival in town spreads, Jaskier is requested to perform at the Mayor’s house for his daughter’s nameday. He drags Geralt along to the tailors, and delights in dressing them up in as much finery as Geralt will allow.

He swaggers, triumphant, from the dressing room in his beautiful new ruffled doublet, and preens for Geralt to admire.

‘You look like someone vomited on a pastry and then gave it legs.’

He snaps his head round to where Geralt stands, looking very uncomfortable in a tight brown tunic.

‘You look like somebody shaved a bear and then told it a shit joke.’

‘That actually sounds about right.’ They grin at each other as the seamstress stands between them looking shocked.

Jaskier performs as fantastically as he always does, maidens swooning and fainting all over the place, thrilling with the cheers and applause he receives after his encore. He makes his way back through the crowd to Geralt, who is standing awkwardly and gripping his ale for dear life as the Mayor’s daughter backs him into the corner.

‘Darling, are you alright?’ He says, and Geralt smirks at him.

The Mayor’s daughter turns on him, and squawks ‘Darling?’

‘Yes, my lady, this fine gentleman is my husband.’

Geralt tugs him closer, and kisses him, very showily. Jaskier sighs into the kiss and loses himself in it a little, restless energy from his performance sliding easily into languid heat.

They resurface, and the simpering bitch has fled for safer ground.

Jaskier drapes himself across his Witcher, and pointedly asks ‘What did you think of my performance?’

‘You sound like a weasel trying to have an orgy by itself.’

He stamps on Geralt’s boot, feigning outrage.

‘Oh, and you’re familiar with weasel orgies are you?’

Eyes all over the room are drawn to them then, as Geralt hoots with laughter and utterly fails to conceal his snorts.

Jaskier grins up at him. Really, the first time he introduced Geralt as his husband couldn’t have gone better if he’d tried.

Geralt fires a bomb at the nest of Nekkers, and Jaskier whoops from the safety of his tree. ‘Fucking shit shot you are! My fucking granny could hit better than that and she’s fucking dead!’

Geralt glances back at him, holding off three at once at the end of his sword, and shouts ‘Yeah and you can tell her I said ‘fuck off’ in a minute when you fucking see her again!’

Roach just snorts at them, and Jaskier belts out his latest composition at the top of his lungs while Geralt finishes them off.

Geralt squelches back to Jaskier’s tree and huffs up at him as he climbs down, grumbling impatiently.

‘Can’t believe that took so long, some fucking shite wolf you are.’

‘That last song sounded like someone playing catch with a hedgehog.’

Jaskier wheels round indignantly and goes for the low blow.

‘And you are getting too fat for those trousers.’

Geralt gives chase, sword raised, and he flees into the woods, screaming over his shoulder, ‘Be careful running, don’t want to rip them!’

The Witcher catches him and smacks his arse with the flat of his blade, which quickly turns into an impromptu spanking and some light roleplay. Jaskier’s third outfit in a week ends up covered in viscera.

When they finish and catch their breaths, Jaskier looks down at the mess they’ve made of his clothes and says, ‘Hang on, are you doing this on purpose?'

Geralt just grins at him.

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[im-fairly-whitty]

If you're still taking prompts for the witcher wolf fics, may I suggest Jaskier and Geralt using the wolf transformation to sneak Geralt through a castle where he's been forbidden to go, with a side of Geralt taking advantage of his form to act like a cursed fae horror again, like when he killed the bandits?

So clearly this got away from me a bit. Enjoy part 1 of 6 my friend.

In Plain Sight

Chapter 1: Into the Fire

“What if Calenthe doesn’t even let us near her?” Jaskier asked, tipping another log into their campfire as it crackled in the darkness. “I’ve been welcome enough at Ciri’s birthday parties over the years, but not even the princess’ fondness for me will temper the queen’s anger if she so much as remembers you and I know each other.”

“Calenthe has to listen to us, Cirilla is our child surprise.” Geralt said grimly from where he lay on their bedroll, propped up on one elbow under the blanket as he watched Jaskier. “She already knows what can happen if you try to deny destiny, she won’t be foolish enough to try to keep her from us. Not with the Nilfgaardian army advancing.”

Jaskier wasn’t sure when they’d started referring to the Cintran princess as their child surprise, but Geralt had never bothered correcting it once they’d started. It had now been nearly two years since Geralt’s medallion had become enchanted and they’d shared everything since then anyway. Walking the same Path, warming the same bedroll, keeping the same secrets, and—evidently—guarding the same destiny. Sometimes as Witcher and bard, quite often as bard and wolf, but always together and caring for each other. No matter whether they were on the road hunting a contract, performing for a tavern crowd, or wintering at Kaer Morhen.

Or—as had happened several days ago—spotting an entire Nilfgaardian army at Amel Pass who were beating a grim march toward a certain child surprise.

Jaskier chewed his lip as he looked north through the dark trees of the forest they were camped in. North toward Cintra, only a day’s ride away now, a trip he’d made alone many times over the past twelve years.

He hadn’t exactly made a mission of checking in on Geralt’s child surprise every few years without him knowing, it had just…happened… He was one of the continent’s best performers after all, it made sense he’d be in high demand whenever he could slip away from Geralt’s side to play for the charming princess who taken quite the liking to him, a feeling that was mutual between them.

He’d wondered before about whether destiny was involved with how fond he’d become of her. Looking back now it felt very much like Jaskier was a handful of carefully placed colored threads being sharply pulled into place as a tapestry picture was woven with increasing speed. Threads that were tangled him and Geralt and Ciri together into a tightly woven image that was coming into focus both too quickly and not nearly quickly enough.  

“Queen Calanthe had no qualms trying to keep Pavetta back from her destiny all those years ago.” Jaskier said. He walked back to Geralt and lay down beside him. He slipped back under the blanket and tucking himself up against his witcher’s warm body. “She only gave in at the end because her castle was about to be ripped apart around us, and I can promise you her stubbornness hasn’t worn down one iota over the years. If you ask me, we ought to slink in the back way and sneak off with the princess before her dear old granny has even realized what’s happened.”

“That’s a spectacularly bad idea.” Geralt said, pulling Jaskier’s back against his chest as he curled around the bard. “I’m finally wearing off on you if your court etiquette’s fallen so far as to allow royal kidnappings.”

Jaskier turned in Geralt’s arms to face him, poking a stern finger at his chest. “If it weren’t for me you wouldn’t even know Cirilla’s name before you went barging into the palace.” He said sternly. “I’m always the brains when we visit a royal court, and as the brains I’m saying it’s going to be no use trying to ask the lioness of Cintra for her last cub and expecting her to take it well, no matter how polite you manage to be.”

“And this isn’t a party we’re dealing with, it’s a fanatical invading army.” Geralt said. He huffed. “And I would have have found out her name even without you, surely I’m not that hopeless.”

“Says the man who had been referring to his own child surprise as a prince for years out of assumption before I corrected you.” Jaskier said dryly. “And I know, all the more reason for us to be careful. We’ll likely only have one chance to make sure she’s safe and if we leave it up to your interpersonal charm you’ll be thrown into a dungeon to rot until the Nilfgaardian soldiers tear the cell down around you.”

“Well then, what do you suggest we do, oh expert of all things Cintra?” Geralt said with a thin sigh, resting his head against their pillow.

“Well first of all, I suggest that we do not parade Geralt of Rivia the Witcher through the front gates of the city for all of Calenthe’s spies to see.” Jaskier said, running his fingers meaningfully along the chain of Geralt’s Witcher medallion. “She forbade you from ever returning to Cintra over a decade ago, she’ll have you killed the moment she catches your scent near her granddaughter. But she won’t be wary of a favorite bard who’s performed in her court several times, along with his new pet wolf.”

“Oh, you’re her favorite bard?” Geralt said with a smirk.

“Calenthe’s favorite bard is the soldier who sounds the war horn as she rides into her latest over-aggressive military effort.” Jaskier said dryly. “If it was up to her I’m sure all royal parties would be replaced with sparring matches between visiting dignitaries.”

“Sounds like an improvement to me.” Geralt said. “Probably get more done that way really.”

“You’re impossible.” Jaskier sighed. “But what I meant is the princess. Ciri knows me and likes me, Calenthe knows that too. It makes me harder to turn away if I were to show up to a party, even without an invitation.”

“Which helps our current situation because…?”

“If you’d been listening to my gossip swapping at the last three taverns we’ve passed through you’d know there’s a Cintrian Royal banquet tomorrow. They’ll be bestowing several titles of knighthood and throwing a party about it.” Jaskier said, idly smoothing a hand down Geralt’s chest. “It shouldn’t be too hard to convince the steward that my wolf and I would make an excellent replacement for the musical entertainment that just disappeared under somewhat mysterious circumstances.”

“We are not killing a bard to get invited to a party.” Geralt said flatly.

“I said disappeared mysteriously Geralt, not killed.” Jaskier said, rolling his eyes. “Honestly. Just give the poor sod a blast of axii once we find him and we’ll pocket his invitation, we’ll say he lined us up as his replacement after a sudden last minute attack of bad stew. It happens in performing circles all the time, the steward won’t care a bit as long as I’m dressed for the occasion, my lute is in tune, and you’re well groomed and polite.”

“Hmmm.” Geralt stared past him and into the trees, quiet for a long moment. “We’re only just ahead of the Nilfgaardians. We’ll arrive tomorrow but they’ll only be a day behind us at most. It doesn’t leave us much time. We just need to know that the princess is safe.”

“Which is why we have to be careful with our one chance.” Jaskier said firmly. “We keep a low profile, get into the castle, eavesdrop until we learn what we need, and then slip out the back way before the Nilfgaardians even arrive. With Cirilla safely in tow if need be. It’ll be over and done before midnight tomorrow.”

“Alright.” Geralt said, mouth still twisted into a worried frown. “We’ll try it.”

“Everything will be alright my wolf.” Jaskier said gently, kissing the corner of Geralt’s mouth. “Destiny is on our side and we’re playing our cards wisely, working together we’ll surely win this round.”

Geralt said nothing, only pulling Jaskier closer to bury his face against his neck.

 ***

 “Stick close.” Jaskier said, fingertips idly brushing Geralt’s wolf ears as they wove through the Cintrian marketplace together. “Now isn’t the time to go trailing after cats or meat carts.”

Geralt nipped playfully at his bard’s fingers for his teasing, earning him a smile and a real head scratch as they continued on, simply a bard and his pet wolf to any onlookers.

After two years Geralt could no longer say whether he preferred being a Witcher or being a wolf, because as far as he was concerned both forms were equally his true self. Running on all fours was as natural for him as swinging a sword, silently shadowing Jaskier as his supposed pet was as easy as brewing his hunting potions.

The day was overcast and the market was busy, an oppressive buzz of grim preparation seeped through the marketplace as the Cintran people purchased extra grain, swapped rumors, and sharpened all manner of weapons.

From what they’d gathered from the marketplace chatter the queen had made no public decree concerning the nearing Nilfgaardian army, aside from the command that every citizen should be ready to fulfill their duty should they be called upon. But the clear anxiety of Calanthe’s subjects belied the royal confidence such a bold non-move displayed, information that did nothing to settle Geralt’s fears about the princess’ safety.

Luckily Jaskier had already managed to find a lead on where to find their banquet lutist with a few well placed questions and a handful of coin. Even better, the roaming peacekeeping soldiers had barely given Geralt a second glance when they passed. He idly wondered what might have happened if he had come to the city as a Witcher, but shook off the thought, having more important things to worry about as they ducked out of the way of a tanner’s cart. They just had to-

“I am not. You’re just a sore loser!”

A young girl’s voice slipped through the noise of the crowd from somewhere nearby, catching Geralt’s attention. Geralt stopped dead in his tracks so abruptly it felt like his very bones had made the decision to halt, trapping the rest of Geralt with them as the bustle of the market around him faded away.

“Let me try again, give them here.”

Geralt turned, ears flicking toward the voice. Before he knew it his feet were pulling him along and toward whoever the owner of that voice was. He wove between legs and around market stalls as he followed the sound of young laughter and spirited teasing without even thinking to wonder why.

The source of the laughter came into view: five teenagers kneeling around a mat rolled out on the ground, jeering and smiling at each other as they played what looked like a game of knucklebones.

Or rather, four teenage boys and a young girl who seemed like she was very much trying to look like a boy, wearing a pair of pants with her hair tucked up into a tight cap.

“I said give it-”

The young girl trailed off, sitting up and looking around as if she’d heard something odd.

Geralt found himself trotting right up to her, feeling a small electric jolt when she turned to meet his gaze. She showed no surprise at a massive collared white wolf coming up to her, only reaching out to pet him, her expression a bit confused.

“Hello.” She said, tipping her head to the side and smiling as Geralt wagged his tail. “Where have you come from?”

“Ciri, that your dog?” One of her playmates asked.

“It’s a wolf you idiot, of course it’s hers, look at the expensive collar it’s got.” Said another, socking the first in the shoulder.

“How am I supposed to know what pets princesses have?” Complained the first boy, rubbing his shoulder.

Geralt’s eyes widened and his tail stilled.

That’s why he’d been pulled toward her, why she’d seemed to sense him at a distance. This was the Princess Cirilla.

His child surprise.

“I’m Ciri, what’s your name?” She said curiously, ignoring the boys as she scratched behind his ears and checked his collar for a name plate. “Do you need help?”

Geralt whined, shifting from paw to paw as his canine excitement got the better of his usual stoic self. He pressed his cold nose against her palm and she laughed, making a warm excited feeling rush through him. How many times had he idly imagined meeting his child surprise? It had never gone like this in his imaginings, usually involving far more grandmotherly interference for one thing.

“I like you.” Ciri declared to only him, kissing his forehead. “If you’re lost you can stay with me.”

Geralt whined again, half knocking her over as he pressed against her side, tail wagging wildly as she giggled.

“So he’s not-” one of the boys started, but the teenagers all stiffened at the clatter of hooves.

In a moment they’d scattered like pigeons, leaving Geralt and Ciri alone in the road, looking up at the four riders who pulled to a stop before them. Geralt stepped in front of Ciri protectively. He’d had his child surprise for less than two minutes now but felt surprised at the certainty he already felt that he would absolutely rip a man apart with his own teeth to protect her.

“You need to come with us.” One of the horsemen—all of them royal guards—said, eying Geralt warily but saying nothing as Ciri got to her feet, putting a hand on Geralt’s collar. “You’re needed back at the castle your highness.”

“Alright.” Ciri said primly, her demeanor entirely different than it had been a moment ago with her friends. More serious, now drained of happiness. “But you didn’t have to bring an entire regiment to fetch me.”

“Are you bringing that…dog with you?” the soldier asked, dismounting and handing his reigns to another soldier to accompany the princess on foot.

Ciri looked down at Geralt, he could see her biting her lip in indecision, doubtlessly hesitating to take a wolf with her who was clearly already owned by someone. Geralt panted, whining happily and pushing his nose against her palm in a clear show of encouragement. Take me with you, it’s alright. Keep me by your side.

“Yes.” Ciri decided, petting his head with a smile and looking back at the soldier. “He’s lost, I’m keeping him until his owner can be found.”

“As you wish your majesty.” The soldier said, already looking disinterested as they began making their way back to the castle in a small procession of hooves and sabers.

Geralt’s ears pricked as he heard a shrill three note whistle, the signal Jaskier always used if they were separated and calling his real name was inadvisable. Geralt looked back just in time to see his bard wander through the crowd, whistling and looking around worriedly.

Jaskier spotted him through the crowd and his eyes widened. Geralt wagged his tail in reassurance and Jaskier must have gotten the message, hanging back as Geralt turned a corner and out of sight with the others.

This was not the plan, but Geralt knew he could trust Jaskier to be clever enough to continue his half without help.

Or at least he had to hope so. Because without Jaskier and the medallion he guarded Geralt would be trapped as a wordless and weaponless wolf in the court of a queen who hated him as an enemy army bore down on the city.

Geralt would only be able to keep his wits about him and hope that this was a gamble that would pay off in their favor.

[Read chapter 2: Old Friend]

[agrestenoir]

ml au where lila has the black cat miraculous

lies and trying times (chat noir!lila au)

i.

There’s a girl in a hotel lobby sitting on a plush sofa, watching raindrops trail down the glass pane of the window. Paris storms have overtaken the seemingly quiet morning, and on her first day in the city, Lila Rossi wants nothing more than to leave the stuffy hotel room her father has booked. 

It’s supposed to be for three days, a business trip to impress a few French officials, but her father has already warned her that it might stretch out a bit. However, “a bit” in the Rossi family, is code for “three months to a year, depending on work”. He hasn’t decided whether they’re staying or leaving, which means she can’t decide whether to plan for permanence or establish an escape. The whole thing, like most other relocations throughout her entire life, is exhausting and messy. It’s the whole reason her mother decided to take a vacation to Barcelona three years ago… and hasn’t come back yet. 

Outside, the rain pours hard. Lila can only watch. 

She’s tired of waiting—for her father, for her mother, for her life to start. 

She pushes herself off the sofa, gets up on her feet, and heads towards the front entrance of the Bourgeois hotel. Outside, there’s a bustling and busy city, full of ancient history and secrets—a whimsical world she so desperately wants to throw herself into but has never had a chance. Lila rushes out onto the wet pavement, wedge heels clacking through puddles as she pushes past people. 

The rain pours. Lila leaves. 

She’s tired of waiting.

*

ii.

 The story starts like this: Lila lies. 

It’s something she’s done in every situation. The lies are a quick and easy way to meld in with the new crowd of new people with new faces in a new place; she just wants to be liked and have friends. That’s the crux of the matter: Lila is always lonely. 

In a way, she doesn’t care if everything is built on lies because nothing in her life is permanent—not her parents, not her home, not herself. Consequences are lost on her. She does what she can to process, to fit in, but something’s different this time. 

You see, there’s something about those Paris rainstorms that leave her feeling light and new, where the rain washes away all her sins, like she has a clean slate with no problems. 

In the Paris rain, Lila is born again. 

(In the Paris rain, an evil burns with a new rage.)

In one world, a tottery old man named Master Fu finds a baker’s daughter and a famed son, giving them the tools to save the world from one man’s unquenchable dreams. In this world, he finds a lost little girl who lurks in the shadow of self-created chaos and dreams of doing better. 

Potential, Master Fu thinks, is stronger than nature. 

When he falls waiting for a train, cane clattering across the cement, Lila Rossi stares for a moment before extending her hand to help him up. Rainwater drips in rivets from her tangled hair and sopping clothes, but she still has those sad eyes and soft smile. He tucks the Black Cat Miraculous into her purse as she turns to jump onto the train, walking away with a surety even in the face of risk. 

It’s a gamble, he thinks, but one who can create chaos knows how to control it. 

The story starts like this: Lila lies. 

But it ends like this: Lila can be better.

 *

   iii.

 The first akuma is hard and rigid, his heart a rocky range of every reason he cannot find to love 

Plagg calls him Stoneheart. Lila calls him hurting. 

In a way, a part of Lila can understand where Stoneheart’s dark feelings originated from. Her life is a constant cycle of coming and going, having and hurting, and loving and losing. The geography of her own heart is full of high mountains and wide, open oceans, barriers to block her core from complete destruction, but each day in a new place leads to more bits being chipped away and crumbling to dust. Each place she goes, every person she meets: it’s the same story over and over again 

Paris is different. It leaves her breathless and free in a way everything else has failed to do. 

It doesn’t make her life easier, but it sure does make her believe in the impossible.

“Rock monster,” she murmurs to herself, staring at the akuma as he stalks through the streets. He leaves footsteps of cracked pavement, handprints of crumbled brick on buildings, and his roar echoes like thunder through the city. “I have… to beat a rock monster with a baton.” 

“Hey,” a voice says beside her, startling her from her strategizing. “I’ve got a fucking yo-yo. I think you’re the one who’s better off here.” 

Lila whips around, coming face-to-face with glittering green eyes and a bright smile. A boy stands beside her, all red and black-spotted with a mask to match. His blonde hair is wind-tamed and tousled, as if he’s been dashing across rooftops and flying through the city too. He looks every bit the partner that Plagg told her about. 

“You must be my partner,” she says needlessly. 

“Ladybug,” he introduces and holds out his hand. “You can call me Ladybug, pretty kitty.” 

“Chat Noir.” Lila holds his hand in a strong grip and tugs him forward, until their foreheads are nearly touching. She levels him with a sharp smirk, eyes burning something fierce. “And I am so out of your league.” 

Shoulders shaking, Ladybug laughs and laughs and laughs. “Oh,” he says, shaking his head. “I’m so going to love being your partner.” 

In another world, a charismatic cat falls in love with a blue-eyed wonder. In this world, the cat finds a friend. 

A little bit more of her heart crumbles to dust, leaving her more open to all that life has to bring her.

What do you know? In Paris, impossibilities are possible after all.

 *

  iv.

 “Listen,” her father tells her, three weeks after they arrived in Paris. “Something came up.” 

Lila enrolls in school the next day. She can’t say she didn’t see it coming. 

Francis-Duponte is full of nameless faces and numerous questions, things she’d once rejoice in, but it’s her sixth school in three years, and she just wants a break. Madame Bustier introduces her to the class, and she sulks to the back row, slipping into a seat with hunched shoulders and tired eyes. Interactions are quite exhausting when nothing ever sticks. 

The day passes in slow lunges, no sudden leaps or stumbling stops. The teachers are knowledgeable, the kids are loud, and the world is a kaleidoscope of everything she can’t handle. It’s during lunch, though, that a student accosts her in the hallway. 

“You’re new, right? Lila Rossi?” A girl with bright blue eyes stands in front of her, holding a tablet against her chest. For the first time, Lila is at a loss for words. “Someone told me you were from Milan.”

“I am,” Lila acknowledges, and her mind is spinning away with lies built on threads of promise and purpose, whispering friend friend friend. She vehemently tries to deny it, swallowing back a lump and trying to pretend that old urges aren’t scratching at her heels. 

“I’m Marinette Dupain-Cheng,” the girl says. She shifts her weight, gaze skittering everywhere else; she’s nervous, but Lila doesn’t know why. “Do you want to sit with me at lunch? I’m working on some designs, and I was wondering if you could tell me about some of the fashion in Milan.” 

I have my own fashion line.

My father owns half of the fashion industry in Milan. 

I came to Paris because I’m personal friends with Gabriel Agreste. 

I’m— 

Lila doesn’t lie. Lila tries. 

The question hits her in a whoosh, air jumping from her lungs as if a wrecking ball had slammed into her ribcage, and she can’t catch her breath. “I…” Lila swallows again, shaking her head. “Yes, actually, I can do that. I’m probably the best person to ask actually; I know a lot about Milan fashion.” 

Marinette smiles.

*

 v.

 Paris at night is beautiful. 

Lila stares at the dark sky above her, which twinkles with clusters of stars and the soft glow of the pale moon, and she can’t help but think there’s something ethereal about this city. Ladybug sits above her, leaning against one of the struts of the Eiffel Tower, but he’s not staring at the view. 

He’s staring at her. 

She quirks a brow high, a smile slipping onto her face. “Distracted tonight, bug?” 

“Why won’t you tell me your name?” He crosses his arms against his chest and levels her with a quizzical stare. “We’ve been partners for over two months now. Don’t you think that at least puts us on a first name basis?” 

“Colleagues.” 

Ladybug jumps down from his perch above, landing softly on his toes, and settles back on his haunches with a small, cautious smile. “I’m pretty sure we’re way past coworkers, kitten.” 

Lila can’t help the laugh that falls from her lips. “Then what the hell would we be?” 

He flashes her a quick, blinding smile—teeth and all. “Friends, obviously.” 

Lila pauses, trying to make sense of her suddenly slippery world. With a quiet sigh, she drops down and parks herself alongside him. Their thighs brush against each other as they kick their feet back and forth, falling in sync like a pendulum swinging in time with a clock. Slowly but surely, her life in Paris ticks away, seconds slipping past without her notice, and she wonders when the day will come that her father will pick up and move to another city, another country, another continent. 

It goes like this: Lila doesn’t form attachments. 

It goes like this: Lila lies to push people away. 

It goes like this: Lila is tired of being lonely. 

“Friends,” she echoes. 

“Yeah.” He rolls his eyes. “Haven’t you ever had a friend before?” 

Lila toys with her fingers, needing to be doing anything to take her mind off of the situation, but the words still leave her lips. “No, I haven’t actually.” Something tells her that she needs to be open and honest with him. That’s what friends do, right? 

“Oh,” he says. A quick pause and then, “I understand that feeling pretty well myself.” 

There’s silence—thick and heavy like fog before a storm—but she pushes past it and forces herself to admit the truth. “I’ve moved around a lot literally my entire life. I never really had a chance to sit down and… talk to people, I guess. I really don’t know how to have friends.” 

Ladybug bites his lip, pondering the problem for a moment before suggesting, “Well, I think you’re doing a pretty good job right now.” 

She snorts, cheeks burning hot with embarrassment. “You’re lucky I like you, Ladybug.” 

“See?” He pokes her nose with his index finger. “You’re great at this.” 

Lila can’t stop laughing. 

She really, really loves Paris.

 *

 vi.

 It’s been months and months, but if it’s one thing that Lila Rossi knows, it’s that life is only temporary. 

There’s no such thing as permanence when it comes to a home, people, or even friends. 

What a fool I’ve been, she thinks.

*

 vii.

 “You’re a real asshole, you know that, Agreste?” Lila tells Adrien Agreste one morning after Marinette leaves the room, all stammer and stutter, muttering something about the restroom so she can try to drown herself in the sink to quench her raging embarrassment. Alya, the last of their trio, follows at her heels in effort to revive the former if needed be. 

The perky blonde with the green eyes simply blinks up at her, too taken back that Lila erupted out of the blue. It’s obvious he’s confused, but Lila is tired of watching her friend make a fool of herself over a stupid boy who won’t give her the time of day.

“Excuse me?” Adrien asks. 

“I said you’re an asshole,” she continues, crossing her arms against her chest. She leans forward, brown eyes burning with a fierce fire, her smile so sharp it could cut class. “And you’re going to start treating her better, or you’re going to have to deal with me.” 

“I don’t know what you mean,” he tells her, and she just rolls her head. Stupid boy, stupid boy. “Marinette’s a good friend—”

Lila snorts. “Like you don’t see the way she looks at you, or how she can’t even speak a complete sentence the minute you walk into a room.” She flicks her wrist in his direction, poking the bridge of Adrien’s nose with her index finger. “Marinette’s my best friend, and I will not let you drag her along like she’s your latest toy.” 

Adrien flounders, trying to find the right words. “I’m sorry, Lila, but I really don’t know what you mean.”

His answer makes her blood boil because how can he not see what he does to her? There’s an itch under her skin, because people who are too oblivious are hurt too easily, just like those who fall too fast and hard. Instead of a healthy relationship between two people, you just get a mess of pain and hurt, and there’s no hope of relief. It’s not a happy situation to get involved with. 

How does he not know? And if he does, how can he let it go on? 

“Marinette’s in love with you,” Lila says in a rush and laughs, something bitter and hard. “And you don’t care.” 

There’s silence—a long pause—and then the voice that speaks is certainly not Adrien. “Lila?” Marinette asks, shaky and feeble from the doorway to the classroom. 

Adrien turns to Marinette, eyes softening. “Marinette…?” 

The other girl can’t even form a coherent response—in fact, she doesn’t even try—and instead bolts out of the room before either Lila, Alya, or even Adrien can stop her. 

Something settles in Lila’s chest, like the pieces of her heart are clicking back together just to get broken again. The looming horror of the situation haunts her, a reaper coming to bring death to the tentative peace she’s carefully crafted. Ever since she came to Paris, lessons of love have been the only things she’s learned: how to love a friend, how to love a partner, how to love a city. 

This is her first lesson in heartbreak.

*

 viii.

 “That akuma was my fault!” Lila thunders at Ladybug, their Miraculous beeping insistently as she paces the rooftop.   

“In what way?” He turns to face her, eyes burning into her own. “You know that it’s never the akuma’s fault, so it’s certainly not yours. Hawkmoth—” 

“Because I hurt her!” Chat Noir’s power thrumming through her, Lila can’t stop the hiss that falls from her lips. She grits her teeth, fists her long brown mane, keeps moving because coming to a standstill makes the world weigh heavier on her shoulders. 

“That doesn’t make this your fault,” he says. “They’re vulnerable, and Hawkmoth sends his butterflies when you’re hurt, purposely because you’re at your lowest, when you’re the most vulnerable and easily manipulated. It’s his doing, not yours, chaton.” 

“You don’t get it,” Lila interjects. “I betrayed her, and I put her in that position. Hawkmoth wouldn’t have gotten to her if I hadn’t hurt her in the first place. She’s my friend, and I did that to her!” 

There’s quiet, a stillness that settles over, thick and heavy. “You know Marinette then?” 

Lila snaps her gaze away from her partner, staring at her hands clasped into tight fists. Her ring is still beeping, as is Ladybug’s, but none of them seem to care at this point. “Yeah, I do.” She wonders how much she’s just given away. 

“Are you Lila then?” he asks, and there it is. 

Like an arrow has pierced through her heart, she grasps at the front of her chest as if to smother it’s fire, but nothing helps. Suddenly her world is crashing down around her, and the peaceful bubble she’s spent the last five months inside has burst. 

Lila’s already lost one friend today—is she about to lost another? 

“How do you…?” But she can’t voice the question quick enough as the magic gives away, and both Ladybug and Chat Noir disappear in a kaleidoscope of color. 

It’s Adrien Agreste.

“Oh.” Everything turns slippery, and she struggles to find an anchor to keep her from falling. “Oh god.” 

“Lila,” Adrien says, expression softening as he catches sight of the fear and worry lining her face. “It still wasn’t your fault. You were only trying to protect your friend.” 

“No, you still don’t get it, Agreste. I hurt her.”

The name silences him, and shame washes over her like the high tide against the shore. Adrien Agreste has never been someone Lila gets along with, just for the sole way he turns her friend into a mess and continues on like it doesn’t matter. Lila knows people who string others along without a care—has done it herself for most of her life—because people are not important, and they truly don’t matter to her. 

(Because she doesn’t matter to them—she never has, and never will. So many names and faces, all in different places, who promise to call or write even after she leaves, but no one has ever reached out to her after she’s gone. It’s the crux of her pain, and it makes her realize that she’s never been wanted, she’s never been first choice, and she’s never been someone worth having.) 

“We’re only human, Lila,” he tells her after a long while. The words echo through her head, louder than she wants them to be, but they still speak volumes. He’s not wrong, but he’s not right either. 

“Do you know how hard it is to tell the truth?” Lila takes a deep, shuddering breath and pushes on. “Telling the truth is like… giving a part of you to someone, and today I did that. I told you how Marinette felt, and that was a part of me—a part of her that she willingly shared—and… I took it, and I told you. She will never trust me again, won’t even look at me, and I lost one of my only friends. So don’t try to tell me you understand because you don’t get it.” 

“I’m sure Marinette will forgive you. You just have to apologize—” 

Lila shakes her head. “No, no. You still don’t get it, Adrien, and you never will. I don’t tell the truth because the truth fucking hurts. It’s so much easier to lie. It’s the only thing I’m good at.” She laughs, bitter and broken. “I should’ve just kept lying.” 

Right now, with everything she cares about broken on the floor, it’s the only truth she knows: Lila Rossi is so good at lying, it hurts.

 *

  ix.

 It goes like this: Lila lies. 

It’s easy on most days, just a couple of words strung together to capture the ear of whoever’s listening, to make them linger on her voice, their eyes following hers like a lifeline. In a way, it makes them navigators as they track her across the sky, using a star to find their way. Empowered, she feels infinite, where she can be the impossible and they just pray in her wake, but it’s been a long time since she’s longed for that. 

Paris has changed her. Being Chat Noir has changed her. Friends have changed her. 

Telling the truth has changed her. 

Truth is a faith that Lila has never believed in. It’s a metamorphosis of chance: you have faith in the ones you love, you have faith in the city you protect, you have faith in your partner—but there’s no guarantee that the truth will make things better. Truth, like any form of human nature, just like the lies she used to spin, has the capability to hurt. But like the first time she donned the mask, she curls herself up into a cocoon, the truth a hard shell against the rest of the world, and waits and prays to become a butterfly. 

In the best turnout, Lila flies. In the worst possibility, she falls. 

Lila didn’t realize just how truth could be a weapon. Lies are a two-way street: one who benefits, and those who suffer if they’re stupid enough to believe it. Truth can be wielded to render someone raw and bleeding, until lies seem like the better option, to the point where they can even heal. 

Lila wishes she remembered how to lie. 

Marinette stands in the deserted hallway, arms crossed against her chest, and she refuses to meet Lila’s inquisitive eyes. “I just wanted… to talk about yesterday.” It’s like she’s steeling herself against a stronger power before she presses on. 

“What’s there to talk about?” Lila shrugs and tries to pretend like it doesn’t matter but it does it does it does. “You went full akuma and tried to destroy the city. It’s just a typical Tuesday.” She swallows thickly, dropped her chin to her chest. “At least Ladybug and Chat Noir were there to save you.” 

Marinette laughs, something soft and quiet. “At least there was one bright side.” 

“Obviously,” Lila says. “Chat Noir is pretty damn amazing. I know her actually, did you know that?” 

“Lila.”

“I’m also on a first name basis with Ladybug, but he’s pretty cute, you know? I could totally introduce you guys—” 

“Lila.” The sound of Marinette’s voice freezes her in motion. It feels like she’s trapped in orbit and just waiting for gravity to take hold and bring her down, like a meteor due for impact. 

Lila closes her eyes and spits out a quick, “I’m sorry!” 

“Excuse me?” 

“It’s my fault you were akumatized. It’s my fault you and Adrien aren’t talking.” There’s a burning sensation in the corner of her eyes, and Lila desperately tries not to cry. 

“I…” Marinette presses her lips into a thin line, shaking her head. “First off, I forgive you.” 

There’s a stunned silence. “What?” Lila asks, too afraid to have her repeat it.

“I said I forgive you,” Marinette tells her. “We have a lot more to talk about, but that’s the most important thing for you to know right now.” 

The shake of Lila’s hands amplifies for she’s been shown love and doesn’t know how to handle it. It’s not something she gets from her father and her mother is more distant than the miles away from her last home. Ladyb—Adrien is perhaps the closest thing she’s ever had to someone she cares for, and it’s clear now that Marinette (and perhaps some others) have gotten that close too.

“You forgive me?” 

“Come on.” Marinette grabs a hold of Lila’s shoulder and pushes her forward down the hall, out towards the courtyard where the rest of their class is taking lunch. “We’ve got a lot to talk about, and you can tell me exactly how you know Ladybug and Chat Noir.” 

There’s a pause, and then, “You think I’m lying, don’t you?” 

“Please,” Marinette snorts. “You think I honestly believe that you know Ladybug and Chat Noir personally?” 

“I do.”

“Sure.” 

The two friends go on, much like life does. 

It’s the way of the world. 

It starts like this: Lila lies.

But it ends like this: Lila is better because of it.

 * 

 x.

 “So,” Adrien says from his perch on the edge of the rooftop, his Ladybug mask practically glowing in the afternoon sunlight. “Marinette asked me out this morning.” 

“Huh,” Lila remarks, cocking her head to the side. “You sure you heard her right?” 

Snorting back a laugh, he nudges her side with his elbow. “Please, you know I’d never—” 

“We all know you don’t have the balls to handle that girl.” She stands up and takes a couple steps back from the ledge, unclipping her baton from her waist. “Just like we all know she is the best thing to ever happen to you, and if you don’t her as such, I’m going to break you.” 

“Lila!” he snipes back, cheeks burning red. 

All she can do is laugh as she runs towards the edge of the rooftop, leaping off into open air. “Try to keep up, bugaboo!” 

“Don’t call me that!” Adrien calls after her as the two fly through the streets, past the meandering civilians and through silver sunlight that streaks through buildings and trees. 

The city sings. Lila laughs. 

She’s living.

Oh god, is she living.

[mtraki]

Protective sentences: “Be more careful next time. I don’t want to bandage you up again.” For Female reader who is a brash fighter and Gladio who is a bit upset with her.

(I made you wait so long for this, I’m so sorry!  Here it is, though, after all its many rewrites!  I hope you like it!  Thank you for waiting!)

(As before: I use ‘Nonnie’ for .  I find it less jarring than and other formats.  You/your OC/your fav otp can be Nonnie!)

For a long time the two of you sat wordless while Gladiolus’s strong hands proved themselves capable of gentleness not oft shown as he wound the sterile bandage around your forearm.  You’d already protested that you could ‘take care of it yourself’, but he’d cut you off with that scowl and low grunt like he always did.  So now you sat docile under his hands on the bench just outside the female locker room.

“You know,” He broke the silence at last, his tone finding more of the friendliness he usually reserved for other occasions, “there’s a difference between ‘fearlessness’ and ‘recklessness’.”

Opening your mouth, you started to retort that you knew that, and that you weren’t reckless.  You’d known exactly what you were doing!  Sure, you hadn’t anticipated your rival and training partner to counter like that, but he sure as hell hadn’t expected you to throw yourself into it anyway to finally score a hit of your own!

You were always throwing yourself into things.  Into the Crownsguard, into training, into friendships, into fights, and into Gladio.  It was just the way you were, and there was really no point in doing anything other than accepting and embracing it.  Like the sea, in mighty waves, you threw yourself at every challenge, not concerning yourself with how gracelessly and painfully you might crash into the cliffside– you’d just build up momentum to try again.  Eventually, every challenge came crashing down in your wake.

In fact, the only thing you hadn’t yet thrown yourself into, was love.  But that was simply because ‘love’ didn’t look like a cliffside that could eventually be worn down, from where you were sitting.  No.  More likely, love was a deep chasm, and if you threw yourself into it, there’d be no pulling yourself back and nothing to catch you.  One day you might decide it was worth the risk… but after all, you weren’t reckless.

“Shut up.” You said instead, deciding you knew better than to try and start a pointless argument after what had happened.

“Yeah, well, be more careful next time,” Were his instructions after the bandage end was tucked away securely and taped in place, and he ruffled your hair with his large hand in a gesture that was probably supposed to be mildly affectionate, but always struck you as kind of demeaning.  You shrugged away and slapped his hand aside, causing him to laugh the rest of his words, “I don’t want to bandage you up again.”

“Nobody asked you to!” You told him in a huff, getting up and storming into the locker room, feeling some satisfaction with how the door slammed behind you.

You didn’t want him or anybody either coddling or patronizing you.  Not even Gladio, who was arguably more of a friend and ally to you than anybody else in the Crownsguard training regiment.  Your strong-willed, energetic, fearlessness in the face of every challenge often had your peers groaning and your instructors rolling their eyes with deep sighs, but Gladiolus Amicitia just sort of shrugged and gave a small smile with a gleam in his eye.  Sometimes you wondered if he was laughing at you.

His girlfriends usually were.  There seemed to be a new one every two weeks or so, and each one was as awful as the last.  You weren’t jealous, of course.  The fact that Gladio was handsome and skilled and nice to you had nothing to do with it.  He just had terrible taste in women, and you were sure to tell him so after he’d firmly said goodbye to the latest one, sending her on her way, after lunch break, when she’d decided to make a scathing comment about your training-battered appearance.  He just shrugged at you with that little smile and that gleam in his warm eyes.

You were finishing up loading the truck for your supply run to ‘New’ Lestallum–that’s what the locals of ‘Old’ Lestallum called the electricity powerhouse to the north– checking the cabin for your phone charger cable and extra batteries for the radio.  With the way comms networks all over the continent were going up and down, you could expect updates and instructions from either one.  Besides, your favorite music was on your phone, and what was a roadtrip without good tunes?

Initially, you hated the assignment.  It seemed like you were getting banished off to this little town far away from everyone and everything– like they were finally ‘getting rid’ of you.  It didn’t take long, though, for you to figure out that you had been put here on purpose: because you had the initiative to take on all the tasks that wouldn’t be assigned.  Old Lestallum was one of the westernmost outposts in Lucis, and as such, was one of the first places on the continent any troop movements from Niflheim would stop– often to resupply.  It was left up to you to assess whether or not that troop movement was reported to the rest of the resistance or stopped dead.  Nobody was here to tell you it was a bad idea, either way.  Your bosses relied on your prowess and fearlessness, alone.  It was a hard-won trust, and so you found pride in your remote assignment.  Besides those official duties, you spent a lot of time working with the hunters who congregated in the town between contracts.  The townsfolk also knew who to talk to about getting difficult-to-acquire necessities.  You kept busy and were never bored.

“You’re alive,” A familiar voice intoned breathlessly behind you, “You made it out of the city.”

Slamming the truck door closed, you looked over you your shoulder at the huge man there.  Of course you recognized Gladiolus Amicitia on sight.

“You look like shit, Amicitia.” You told him.  He didn’t, really.  He looked much the same as last time you’d seen him in the Crown City, some weeks before it fell.  His dark hair and beard were somewhat more unkempt, and his fatigues needed a good washing (as did his entire self, really), but there wasn’t much the road or wilderness could do to his rugged good looks.  The most alarming part of his appearance was that he was alone. “Where’re your friends?”

His ‘friends’ being the Crown Prince (well, the King now, you supposed.  The new King of Lucis.  Huh…) his advisor, and his crash-course-Crownsguard-trained best friend.  Gladiolus was the King’s Shield.  What was he doing away from the King?

“Cape Caem,” He said, still staring at you in shock.  It was mildly amusing, but also starting to feel offensive, “Left them there a week or so ago.  Need to do something.  But you… You really made it out.”

“Of course I made it out.” You scoffed, feeling the old anger curl in your chest, “Maybe you didn’t notice while you were doing your important Shielding, or whatever, but I happened to turn out really damn good at my job.”  Despite all the naysaying and scoffing and groaning and eye-rolling.  Maybe in spite of them, honestly.

After graduating training, your friendship faded away.  He had his important duties, and you were working on proving yourself to the Crownsguard.  You only ever met on rare occasions for refresher training, but most of the Shield’s training was in private lessons with his father, or the Marshal, anyway.  He was too important to remain in your small social circle.  Still, you’d heard and seen enough of him to know how he was growing and improving.  Except with his taste in awful girlfriends.  That apparently never changed.

“No, I know,” He said, “… That’s why I thought… I thought you might have been there.  At the Citadel.”

Softening, you shook your head, “No.  None of us were, you know.  His Majesty re-assigned us all to the city to protect the citizens.  Only the Kingsglaive and the MPs were at the Citadel.  I… I’m sorry about your dad.”

You were.  The news of each death had infuriated and wounded you on almost a personal level, because you were sure you could have done something if you had only been there.  But the news of Lord Amicitia’s death had made you think of your old friend, and you’d bled for him and his sister.

“Yeah.” He said, ruffling his hair self-consciously, “Thanks.  I’m glad you’re ok.  What are you doing in Old Lestallum?”

“Keeping busy.  Running interference, giving the Imperials hell.  Keeping the legends alive.”

“Legends, huh?”

Grinning, you leaned back against the truck, hearing the familiar groan of springs, “Sure.  This town is full of old stories of adventure and daring.  Stick around awhile and the people will be more than happy to tell you.  Even if you beg them to stop.”Gladio’s gaze seemed to turn inward, and you could almost see your words circle in his mind, “… ‘Old stories’… huh…”

“So,” You said, arching an eyebrow, “what are you doing here?  What’s this ‘something’ you need to do?”

“… I didn’t really know until… just now, I think.  Thanks.”

“You’re welcome?” Then you frowned, “Wait a minute, why are you taking advice from me?  Don’t you have that brainy four-eyes?”

“This isn’t really an ‘Ignis’ problem.  I think I like your advice better, this time around.” When he flashed that old, familiar grin, something stirred in your belly with a flutter.

“Well, you’re welcome then.  If you’re still taking advice: catch a shower and a bed before you do anything else.  I gotta go…”

“Right now?  Where to?”

“Lestallum.  Supply run.”

“Oh.” Maybe it was your imagination, but he seemed to deflate a little at this news. “Well… do you know where I can get a phone charger… or make a phone call?  I think I left mine with the guys.”

“They don’t sell stuff like that around here.  You’re better off bumming a ride with me to Lestallum if you want a spare.  Otherwise, I guess you can sweet-talk the motel front desk.  Who are you trying to call?”

“… The Marshal.” He replied dubiously, as if still debating whether or not this was a good idea.

“Oh.” You shrugged, “You could use my phone.  Or the radio.  Hard to say which he’ll answer, but he’s usually good about answering eventually.”

“You report to him?  Directly?” He gave a little laugh, “Moving up in ranks quick, huh, Nonnie?”

You scoffed, “Seriously?  No.  I report to Prairie, but he’s not shy about jumping on the line if he feels like it.”

“He’s probably not going to like you letting me use official channels for this…”

“So?  He can add it to the list of things he doesn’t like pinned under my name.”

“All right, let’s see it then.”

You passed over your phone first, noticing, strangely, the way his fingertips brushed yours when he took it.  Well all right, maybe you were kind of lonely, and you could appreciate the way he looked.  But it wasn’t anything crazy to get all worked up about.

“We’ve got the same phone,” Was the observation from the big man, “You got a charger?”

“Sure, in the truck, but I’m gonna need it…”

“Worth a try.”  He sighed and gave your phone a long look.

Putting one hand on your hip, you reached out the other to take it back from him again, “Tell you what: I don’t have to leave right away.  You go catch a shower and I’ll let your phone charge while you’re doing it.  Then you can make your call to the Marshal.”

He blinked at you, releasing your phone, then folded his arms, “You keep mentioning how I need a shower…”

“You look like shit, Amicitia.  You smell like it too.”

While he was gone, his phone on the passenger-side of the truck, charging, you gave yourself a good scolding for your behavior.  You didn’t have any business getting excited about Gladiolus Amicitia.  He’d just blown into town, and would blow right back out again like a tumbleweed, off to do some important something with the Marshal.  You didn’t want to deal with the disappointment of learning again that you didn’t measure up to be in his social circle.

When the Shield came back, his phone was still too dead to make a call, so he borrowed yours.  Cor didn’t answer after several attempts, so you suggested he call Ms. Elshett, instead.  You didn’t pay much attention to their conversation until Gladio mentioned meeting with the Marshal here in Old Lestallum.  That’s when you smacked him in the arm, getting his attention.  Scowling, you said, “First of all, he’s not going to come all the way out here.  Not even for you.  It’s too far away from his other objectives.  Second of all, what makes you think I want the Marshal here to disapprove of everything I’m doing and tell me how he’d rather see it done in person?”

Muffling the receiver with his hand, Gladio chuckled, grinning again so that the fluttering returned to your belly, “Never managed to get on his good side, huh?”

“He can keep his good side.  I don’t need him to like me as long as he keeps trusting me to do my damn job.”  Really, the moment he tried to send somebody to ‘keep watch’ on you, or something stupid like that, the Marshal would be on your bad side, and you’d make sure he would regret it.

Gladio kept grinning, apparently willing to humor you, “All right, where do you recommend, then?”

“Anywhere else further east.”

Gladio suggested Taelpar Rest Stop over the phone, then wrapped up his phone conversation, asking Monica to pass along the message and have the Marshal call him on his phone when he got it.

Taking your phone back, you announced, “All set up, then?  Guess you’ll want to catch a ride.”

“Yeah.” He sighed, “Otherwise it’ll be a long, long walk.”

He looked toward the dusty buildings and rusted cars on the quiet street, as if assessing them for the likelihood of proving useful in his endeavor.  It gave you a good view of his handsome face in profile, and despite your self-lecture earlier, you caught yourself staring.

Swallowing, then licking your lips, you said, “Get in.”

“What?”

“Nobody’s going to head that way anytime soon.  I’ll drop you off on the way to Lestallum.”“Taelpar Rest Stop is several days out of your way, isn’t it?” He frowned at you.  You shrugged.

“Further out of my way if I take you on the way back from Lestallum, or when I come back to find you still here.  It’s fine.  I’ll find something to do out there, or something to pick up to make the trip worth the gas.”

It was a mistake.  It was a mistake because he made a great traveling companion, seeming to know when to initiate a conversation or when to stay quiet and let you enjoy your music and introspection.  It was a mistake because he liked listening to your stories.  It was a mistake because he made your evening stops more efficient and convenient with his camping expertise.  It was a mistake because he made your evening training all the better for having an excellent sparring partner who already knew just how to challenge you, and it shored up your ego to know you could more than keep up with the King’s Shield.  It was a mistake because you thought your campfire cooking was okay, but he insisted that it was pretty great.  It was a mistake because he had absolutely zero objections to stopping and exploring strange rock formations, caves, Imperial outposts, or dangerous-looking creatures.  It was a mistake because he made your night hunts against daemons all the more thrilling.  It was a mistake because you were becoming infatuated with his hearty laugh and that devilish grin.  It was a mistake because you were growing accustomed to his warm wit and easy-going charm.  It was a mistake because you were going to miss the way his entire being seemed to relax as he sunk into a book.  It was a mistake because the closer you got to his destination, the less you wanted to arrive.

“You’re a lot more tense than I remember,” Gladio told you thoughtfully over the lip of his bottle.  It was your last night.  Tomorrow, mid-morning, you’d arrive at the rest stop and drop him off  Cor had called on his phone the other day, and the two of them had had a long, somewhat heated discussion about something while you made a racket setting up camp so that you couldn’t eavesdrop.  You shrugged at his comment, ignoring how you’d just gotten up and moved away when he sat next to you– too unbearably close for your rattled nerves.  Ignoring how every time he looked at you, your heart would start to race.  Ignoring how every moment with him seemed to draw you inevitably closer and closer to some unknowable abyss…

You had to escape, but you didn’t want to be away from him, and for maybe the first time in your life, you didn’t know what to do, and you couldn’t decide.

Decisions were easy for you.  You just did what you thought was best, and threw yourself at it with enough force until you succeeded.  Success hardly ever brought negative consequences that couldn’t be shrugged off.  But this?  If you threw yourself toward the destination, and then your own in Lestallum, would you ever see Gladio again?  Would you forever be outside his social circle?  Would you never see that grin, or hear that laugh, or marvel up close at the way his muscles rippled like an alpha predator with every subtle movement he made?  And why did that all sound so unbearable?

But on the other hand, if you threw yourself with abandon at the abyss…  What then?  What was at the bottom?  How much would it hurt?  Would you just fall forever?  Why was this unknown so daunting?

“Hey, Nonnie.  Come sit.” He patted the ground next to him, and you found yourself frowning.

“You’re not that smooth, Amicitia.”

“We can argue that later, come on.”

It wasn’t a good idea… but you also didn’t want to look like you were concerned about being near him, so you went and sat next to him.

“So,” He said casually, leaning back on his hands so that he seemed to ease that much closer to you and slowly swallow you with his size, “I know you’re a big, tough Crownsguard now, but you remember what I said all those years ago?  You’ll take care of yourself?”

“Always do.” You snorted, “Don’t bother getting all protective now.”

“Can’t help it.  It’s what I do.  You showed up right when I needed you and… I don’t want to lose you again, y’know?”

He said it so casually, but you heart bottomed out and you were staring at him.

With a little laugh at your expression and a cheeky wink, he went on, “So take care of yourself on the way to Lestallum.  I won’t be there to patch you up.”

“Excuse you,” you heard yourself splutter in a mix of shock and rage, “but you haven’t had to ‘patch me up’ ONCE this whole trip!”

“Well that’s because I was here to watch your back–” He continued to laugh.

You slugged him in the shoulder, “EXCUSE you, I haven’t needed you or anybody to patch me up in years!”

In a blink, he had your wrist in his hand, dragged across his body so that you were sprawled against him, and his lips found yours.  Once again, you were amazed by his strength and the uncanny capacity for gentleness he possessed.  Heat suffused your face, your neck, and your entire torso seemed to almost explode with butterflies.  You were at the very brink of the chasm, and Gladio seemed to be trying to nudge you right in.

“Just say you’ll take care of yourself, okay?” He murmured quietly, smothering any desire to continue protesting by fixing your gaze with his.

“… I’ll take care of myself…” You said dumbly, before shaking your head and withdrawing, “Like I always do!”

“I distinctly remember,” Gladio raged quietly, “you saying you would take care of yourself!  If this is how you ‘always do’, then I’m impressed you’ve survived this long!”

You were admittedly in some pain.  Too much to try and defend yourself.  You had zero regrets, though.  Your maybe-crazy maneuver might have landed you right in the range of the Red Giant’s swing, but it also got you inside it’s guard to destroy it, and you were convinced that was the more important thing.

His voice was angry and rough, but his hands were still so gentle as they dumped a potion on you and then searched you for any lasting injury.

“How many times are you going to make me say it, dammit?!  Be more careful, next time!  I don’t want to patch you up again!  You’re lucky I was in the area!”

“Oh, yeah,” You shot back, “really great lecture from the guy who stomped into Taelpar Crag and the Proving Grounds.”

He blinked at you, confused, “… How do you know–”

“–It wasn’t that hard to figure out.  You’re not that mysterious, Amicitia.”

“Well… It was fine.  I hardly got–”

“–Don’t even start.  Better look in a mirror before you try and tell me you didn’t get hurt.”  You’d been angry when you found out.  So angry.

“What?  Were you worried about me?”

“You kissed me right before you left to go to the place where everybody dies!” You shoved at his chest, but all you got for your efforts was a quiet grunt, “And you call ME reckless?!”

He took your hands in his, and laughed, “Well.  Takes one to know one, I guess.”

Somehow, his laugh warmed you enough that most of your anger melted away.  Other than the scar, he was okay, you reasoned.

“Speaking of knowing one,” He said after a moment of letting this thumbs brush against your battle-roughened knuckles, “we talked about you a little.  The Marshal and I.”

“Oh great…” You groaned.

“He doesn’t dislike you.  He’s just… worried about you.  He says you remind him of a younger him.  ‘All thrust and little foresight’, he said.” Gladio continued, “… And I have it on good authority that he was probably twice as reckless as both of us.  But… look at where he is now.”

It took you a moment, but you managed to regain enough composure to raise both eyebrows and purse your lips, “And what is the motivation behind this roundabout backhanded compliment?  What are you after, Gladio?”

“Well.  Maybe another kiss?”

Huffing, you turned your face aside and told yourself you definitely weren’t blushing, “You’re not that smooth.”

You were definitely blushing.  You knew the moment his lips pressed against the apple of your cheek.  Then the curve of your jaw.  Then the corner of your mouth, and that’s where your resolve weakened at last and you let him capture your lips.

It was hopeless.  You were falling.  You were falling into the chasm, but it was okay.  Gladio was falling with you.

[asapncah]

EEP HERE WE GO AGAIN. i feel like my intros just get longer and longer each time.. sorry not soRRY cause noah is a queen that deserves the Novel. so that’s what y’all are getting so brace yourselves for this wild ride. i’m so very excited for this reboot, y’all have no idea. OH and for anyone new here: my name is lenny, moreau is my child that i cherish more than the hair on my head, i am 21, live in the mst timezone, and use she/her pronouns ! i’m also ur friendly canadian so i’m here for any of ur canadian-related q’s!!! i know we’re a special breed lasdkjlh OK enough about me, onto the queen. y’all know the drill, like this / hmu to plot if u survive reading my Long Ass Intro.

( ariana grande • twenty three • cisfemale ) look, it's noella de luca from apartment 4B! apparently she moved into moreau apartments one and a half years ago and rumour has it, they can be quite possessive— good thing they’re also adventurous, hey? i hear they’re the hedonist of the building. 

↘︎ 𝒷𝒶𝓈𝒾𝒸𝓈 !

given name: noella sofie de luca

nickname: noah

age: twenty3

birthdate: march 18, 1995

hometown: keremeos, british columbia

occupation: waitress & dog walker

↘︎ 𝒽𝒾𝓈𝓉𝑜𝓇𝓎 !

born to high school sweethearts, willa and antonio, who were very much in love until they just … weren’t

the separation of her parents came as a surprise to young noah but not much sleep was lost over the divorce as her parents remained civil and held no ill will towards each other — they even remained business partners

montagna park. a cozy, scenic campground just a few kilometres away from keremeos, nestled deep in the outskirts of the rocky mountains and home to the majority of noah’s most prized childhood memories

following the divorce, antonio moved permanently onto the campground as a year-round manager while willa remained in keremeos to handle the financial end of the business and raise their daughter, who spent nearly every other weekend in the mountains with her father mastering the wilderness

(tw: mention of adhd & prescription drugs & anxiety) she was diagnosed with adhd at the age of 10 after her teachers noticed her heightened hyperactivity and noah began taking a pill each day at lunch time to help her cope with her symptoms

this new routine brought stares and snickers from her fellow classmates and noah developed a harsh social anxiety with the pressures to act “normal” around her peers, but this only made her adhd worse – it’s a vicious cycle (end tw)

come graduation (which she just slipped by) she yearned to escape the confines of her small town. it was an itch that no amount of trips to the mountains could scratch so she set her sights on something bigger: europe

with the help of her parents, noah saved up for the trip of a lifetime, which she embarked on shortly before her 21st birthday and didn’t return from for several months. though she ventured across the european countryside, much of her trip was spent in italy as she reconnected with her roots and fell in love with the country, particularly florence and pisa. she paid her dues working in a small italian cafe in florence owned by an adorable old woman that reminded her of her own grandmother and made italy her home for many weeks, only returning home due to missing her parents and a dwindling bank account

while in europe, noah developed a love for journals. after finding a beautiful leather bound one in her first week of her trip, it became glued to her side and the obsession didn’t stop once she filled it up (which didn’t take long, mind you)

by the end of her trip, noah had filled up eight journals with tales of her adventures, short poems inspired by the european beauty, and songs that seemed to burst out of her like lightning.

↘︎ 𝓅𝓇𝑒𝓈𝑒𝓃𝓉𝓁𝓎 !

vancouver became her home shortly after her 22nd birthday, a handful of months after she returned from europe. after experiencing the foreign continent’s beauty, keremeos felt small and stifling to her. the small town held no feeling of intrigue or adventure anymore so she made the big move to vancouver in the hopes of finding something more

the big city held a sort of vibrance for her, having visited a handful of times with her mother for big shopping trips and weekend getaways, and somehow the small town girl melted into the big city easily

moreau apartments caught her eye immediately when searching listings, its beautiful brick walls and ocean views promising her comfort and just enough exposure to nature to keep her sane in the concrete landscape, and she moved in immediately

due to her absolute inability to sit still and be bored, noah works 3 jobs in vancouver: waitress, dog walker, and pole dance instructor

waitress: she serves in an adorable, cozy local restaurant down granville street, close by the apartment building, mostly working morning or late night shifts

dog walker: to fuel her love for animals, noah’s gained a reputation in the neighbourhood as one of the most reliable dog walkers. you can often catch her with a small herd of hounds at any time of day, handling the tangling leashes like a pro

pole dance instructor: she found this studio shortly after her move to vancouver, wanting a physical and creative outlet for herself. she fell in love with pole dancing after going outside of her comfort zone and mastered the skill quickly, promptly bringing the owner to offer her a part time job instructing a beginner’s class on the weekends

she continues to keep journals, using the near-daily activity as a sort of meditation after a long day to ease her ever-racing mind. her collection of songs has grown considerably through her life experiences and her instagram is filled with short snippets of the lyrics in captions and videos of her strong voice that just seems to come naturally

↘︎ 𝒸𝒽𝒶𝓇𝒶𝒸𝓉𝑒𝓇 !

aesthetics: freshly picked peaches. crisp mountain air. old denim ripped and stained from wild adventures. perfectly painted nails. thriving house plants. the scent of fresh coffee and sweet lotion. journals inked with stories and rhymes. rose gold jewelry. caramel waves blowing in the wind as sneakers trample fallen leaves. hazy rooms and endless laughter. a strong voice singing about heartbreak.

notable traits: passionate, possessive, adventurous, charming, optimistic, honest, naive, self-indulgent

best described as a freshly blossomed rose, grown in the canadian wilderness and weathered by the elements, with blushing petals beautiful enough to draw you in and thorns sharp enough to protect herself.

willa and antonio raised their daughter to have a strong head on her shoulders. their independence, wild hearts, and honesty passed down to noah easily. she’s certainly her father’s daughter in terms of her curiosity, need for adventure, and determination, but her mother shines through noah’s feminist independence, brutal honesty, and passion for creativity.

in terms of how noah’s young experiences changed her constant state of wonderment as a child, she’s definitely grown tougher and carries herself with an obvious sense of responsibility to protect herself. she likes to believe the walls she’s built since those stares and snickers in school aren’t easily broken, but she falls prey to charming smiles, trusting words, and careful eyes — it’s something she’s constantly working on, always chastising herself whenever she falls too easily

at first sight, she’s a small girl with a big mouth. her personality purposefully magnified to hide the fact that she’s afraid of getting attached. her sailor’s mouth is a surprise to most, along with her openness with her sexuality (bi af) and honesty when it comes to just about anything she has a strong opinion on (feminism, equal rights, lgbtq+ issues, animal cruelty, etC)

but for better or for worse, noah generally prides herself for having hardly a care in the world. many of her days just go with the flow and she’s not worried about her future — the future is today, as she likes to say to convince her friends to join her on one of her many adventures

one of the greatest friends one could ask for because of her strong loyalty, charming smile, generosity, and taste for adventure (it also helps that, thanks to her green thumb, this one grows the best weed in moreau ajklsh). she distracts others from developing too much curiosity about her own story by being an incredibly good listener and shoulder to cry on

to elaborate on her disorder: noah still has a prescription to aid her symptoms (most commonly fast and rambling words, an inability to shit still — showcased by tapping her feet, twirling her hair, fiddling with anything near her, etc — and a short attention span that is often interrupted by interludes of hyperfocus) but often pushes aside her pills because of her stubbornness. relying on a pill isn’t her favourite thing in the world and she likes to tell herself she can get by without them but lbr, the bitch can’t kjlhsd at least not for too long. though she keeps her problems as best a secret as possible, i’m sure someonE’S noticed her slip ups

↘︎ 𝓈𝓊𝓂𝓂𝒶𝓇𝓎 !

this was a rollar coaster and a half. i know. i’m sorry. akjlshd please love me

tl;dr: small town girl from the mountains, raised by two loving separate parents, hardened by teasing and stares because of her adhd, but found her freedom and passion for life in europe before moving to vancouver to keep that spark alive. works 3 jobs to keep herself busy and because she just can’t make her mind on what she wants to do (waitress, dog walker, pole dancing instructor). 

first things that come to mind when thinking of noah: peaches, house plants (wink wink), fluffy dogs and purring cats, leather bound journals, and a lust for adventure.

as for connections, i want them aLL but i listed a few right here for y’all to check out. if any of those catch your eye / you’re down to brainstorm, hmu through tumblr ims / discord or like this and i’ll come to you!!!

[fortunaterpg]

NAME: Hugo Buchanon AGE: Thirty three GENDER: Cisgender (he/him) SEXUALITY: UTP OCCUPATION: UTP FACECLAIM: Max Irons (non-negotiable) STATUS: OPEN

KEY INFORMATION

There is a meanness in you, real and hard as an organ, that is as cruel spirited as an adult as it was when you were a kid. You were born reckless, with a bored regard for rules and a wallet big enough to get you out of any trouble imaginable. And was it any wonder? Mother and Father, always sniping at each other, leaving whole continents between them just to avoid talking? You don’t want to put it down to parental neglect, because how fucking cliche is that, but there is no doubt that their indifference bred a resentment in you that could only be sated through cruelty to others.

Fast cars, glitzy girls, ragers in Ibiza. High school was a joke -- you drank and skived your way through and barely scraped by with your diploma -- and you dropped out of college after one semester. Ever since Joel’s untimely tumble overboard you’ve been adrift, hopping from country to party, sticking all kinds of things up your nose, in your veins. If it’s going, you’ve tried it.

The problem -- the real problem -- is that beyond your menacing charm and determined recklessness, there’s a little boy screaming to get out. So much of your life is out of control that sometimes all you can do is weep and fight and tear yourself to shreds. You are repulsed by yet earnestly desire someone to take care of you, to tell you what to do. That well of loneliness is fathomless and so, so dark, and sometimes, when everything is blinking out, you think you glimpse Joel there, right at the bottom, staring sadly up at you, waiting for you to do the one thing you never can: tell the truth.

You’ve only had one talent: drugs. Your encyclopedic knowledge of narcotics means people consult you like a couture-clad pharmacist, and for a while at school you supplied the Upper East Side with whatever they wanted, whenever they wanted it. A couple of spots of trouble over the years (narrowly escaped charges, some bogus claim in London, meaning you can never go back) has driven you back to your home city. You’ve not thought about it in years, but New York reminds you of that summer in ‘87, when Joel asked you to get him coke for the first time, and you said yes.

CONNECTIONS

IMOGENE BUCHANON, JOEL BUCHANON: Being the eldest meant you were supposed to have the answers, or so it went, but you had a healthy dislike for responsibility, and far preferred to rule with an iron fist. It’s an understatement that you weren’t the nicest brother, but they were just far too soft. Even now it takes a lot of self control to stop yourself ripping Imogene’s head off. They drive you bonkers, they really do.

SUSANNA HADANI: The never-ever-after, or something along those lines. You’ve fallen into bed with her as easily as breathing, but it’s never ended well. You’ve lost count how many times you’ve gone back and forth, pleading with one another, screening each other’s calls. You hadn’t heard from her in months before you came back to the city. Your love for her is like a bruise.

ORSON KENNEDY: He’s the closest person you could call a friend. At first it was all a laugh, the drug stuff, until he realised that for you this was no hobby, but a vocation, and he disappeared as quickly as he’d arrived. Over the years you’ve kept in touch, emails mainly, sent at 2:00 AM from Berlin, heyyyyyy orso what’s happening. He replied, occasionally. You caught up, every now and then. Now that you’re back in New York you’ve gone hunting for his steady companionship. Part of you hopes you can strike up that old friendship, have a party, talk... You prefer not to dwell on the fact you can only seem to catch his voicemail.

QUENTIN “QUIN” ROSE: You’re friends... kind of? It’s hard to maintain friendships when you barely know what day it is, but for some reason Quin is always just there, and you kind of like how much he talks shit. You’re forever bumping into him (arms wide, Quinny, dude, what’s up!). He’s a good egg. A weird guy, but a good one.

[mariamuses]

100 Reasons Why

The wonderful @queen-archeron suggested this prompt where Elain x Azriel go to their first date and have their first kiss, because I couldn’t find any inspiration lately. It’s just pure Elriel fluff because Anna and I have been sharing opinions on it lately and I’m trash. Hope you enjoy it!

Tags:  @songbirdsbooks @kaliejane26 @personpersonper @turtlesnook @the-bookish-soul @court-0f-dreamers

Word Count: 2,244

AO3

After the war, it had taken everyone in the inner circle time to grow accustomed to their new lives, with new nightmares, new dynamics, new people...

But to Elain, that new life came with the literal sense. She had died on that Cauldron, moved across the continent and had left all her social life and the people that came with it behind. To top it off, she had been given a mate, and a handsome one at that, but he was someone she didn’t really know, and their relationship hadn’t exactly started with the right foot. 

She knew Lucien was a good man, but to her, it wasn’t reason enough to force herself to accept some bond that was thrusted upon her, when all her life she had grown up believing that you get to choose who you love, and you have to choose right, for the humans didn’t have the mating bond and the certainty it offered. She had given up enough things to now give up her beliefs and values too. Even if it was a hard choice, she wasn’t going to be one to keep a male at her knees, begging for scraps when he, and she too, could aim for so much more.

So, she had called the mating bond off. One day when Lucien had returned to the Night Court after one of his many trips as Emissary, Elain had taken him to the garden for a walk and told him everything. Lucien had been very gracious about it, after all he had been waiting for her to make a decision, but it wasn’t too difficult considering how he had Vassa as a safe net to cushion the fall. Elain had agreed, much to Lucien’s disbelief, after catching Lucien writing letters to Vassa, that keeping correspondence with her was a great idea, even while they went on a few dates, to keep his options open in case he didn’t want the mating bond, so he wouldn’t feel trapped. Of course, Lucien wasn’t as decisive as her and hadn’t dared to call it off even when he already knew what he wanted.

It was a crucial step Elain had taken, but she hadn’t been alone in that journey. Not at all.

Azriel had been there. He always was and now, she hoped, he always will.

He was different. Always quiet, in the shadows, looking, observing. But also, Elain had noticed, helping. Every time she had something to do, he was there, helping her. He wasn’t as noticeable as maybe Cassian, Rhysand or Mor were. But to Elain, that only made her look at him closely.

The first thing she had noticed was that he was beautiful, in a sharp yet delicate way. Then she noticed how she was her best self with him around her. And when the visions had started to go out of control, he had been the one at the front line, the first to know what she was, the only one who knew how to help her.

And so she started seeing him too, under another light. How this male didn’t believe he could be loved, or that he was deserving of love. She saw his shadows, but looked past them; saw his scars but only felt his hands. How he could create with them, when they cooked together; or be gentle, when he scooped her up when a vision hit her or when he took care of her garden.

And Elain saw him look at her, too. That gaze filled with hidden love, but also guilt and sadness. 

And she couldn’t bear it, so she took matters onto her own hands; and after a few days of gathering the courage after setting Lucien free, she was determined to show him what love meant and asked him out on a date. And after a lot of convincing and giving him countless reasons and explanations that she didn’t want Lucien, but him, he said yes.

And today was the day.

He was picking her up on the House of Wind because Feyre had insisted that way was more romantic, him being forced to fly her down to Velaris and all.

A sharp knock shook Elain out of her reverie and she pulled the door open, looking up to a view that melted her heart into a puddle.

In front of her was Azriel, out of his normal leathers, with a clean-shaven face, black linen pants and a black, plain t-shirt fitted so it hugged his arms and chest. Her jaw hanged, but she wasn’t the only one stunned.

In front of her, Azriel’s gaze kept flicking all over her. First her eyes and the black kohl she had lined them with; then her lips, which were plump and rose colored; and finally her body, for she was clad in a dress which did nothing to hide her breasts, as well as the curve of her hips and finished right above the knee.

After a full minute of checking each other out, Azriel chuckled, tending a hand out to her and asked, “Shall we go?”.

Elain furrowed her brow, the lack of compliment on her appearance bothering her but remembering how hard it had been for him to agree to the date, she cleared her doubts out of her mind and took his hand, letting him put his hands behind her knees and back and picking her up as if she weighted nothing.

“We shall, handsome”, she answered.

And they took off.

Elain took Azriel on a tour of the city. Of course, he already knew all the places, but what he didn’t know, or at least fully acknowledge, was the meaning behind them.

“Okay, so this”, explained Elain pointing at a restaurant, “is the first place I ate after the war was won. I had been on the townhouse for months without ever coming out other than to my garden, but you convinced me to come saying that there were flower beds with flowers from every court. It was the first time I felt I could breathe after they pulled me out from the Cauldron. And that is reason number one.”

“Reason number one? Of what? What do you need reasons for?”, questioned Azriel, his brow knitting.

Elain wiggled her eyebrows.

“You’ll see”, she said taking his hand and dragging him to a new location; another restaurant. Actually, their favorite restaurant of Velaris, the one they frequented the most.

“This” kept going Elain, “I was showed, but Rhys actually let me into his mind, projecting a memory for me where you took Fey here, was the first time she ate out when she came from Spring. Also, where you and Mor and Cassian invited her to dance. And that, is reason number two.”

This went on for the better part of the evening, and Azriel kept getting more and more confused because, trying to pick them common denominator to all the reasons, the only one he could find was him, but not always her, or Feyre… just him. And it drove him insane.

“Over here we have a brick wall, with a big crack. And it’s the place you killed an attor on Hybern’s first attack on Velaris, defending a woman who was holding her newborn child.”

“This fence, right here, you helped a neighbor patch up after a dog had escaped and you found it and brought it back to the owner.”

The weirdest one was a kid she pulled up while she went on, “This, is Aaron. How old are you Aaron?”

“Six, but I’m turning seven in five days”, answered the kid.

“Oh, and do you know who this is?”, asked him Elain.

“Yes! He’s the spymaster, Azriel.”

“That is right”, she continued, kneeling in front of him. “And how do you know him?”

“He saved me! I was climbing a big wall, but my foot slipped, and he caught me when I was gonna hit the floor and BAM! We flew sooo high and then he took me to mamma”.

“Thank you very much, Aaron. Happy early birthday”, Elain waved the kid goodbye and turned to Azriel again. “And that is reason number thirty.”

And so, the confusion went on.

When dawn was nearing, they arrived at the river bank, where a blanket was spread out with a picnic on top.

Carefully, Elain strayed from the paved path, and with Azriel’s hand on hers, made her way, and sat down.

Az eyed the set up suspiciously, and inquired.

“Is this another one of your mysterious reasons? Because I don’t remember ever being here before... “

Elain giggled, looking up to him, still standing.

“No, silly. This is our dinner. I made it with help from Cassian”, she said, “He helped me make some traditional illyrian dishes, supposedly, the ones you like the most”.

As she finished her explanation, Azriel sat down and eagerly started taking of the lids off the plates, eyes widening by the second at the delicious food she had so masterful prepared with the help of his brother.

Eyes shining with not yet fallen tears, he turned to her.

“Elain, this is perfect. No one has even done this for me before... Thank you.”, he whispered in awe.

“And that is reason number one hundred”, she muttered, while grabbing his face between her hands, her own eyes lined with silver.

He cocked his head, exasperation brushing his features and trying to get out of her touch; but she gripped him harder, not enough to hurt, but to hold on.

“Elain you-”

“Shhhh. Shut up and let me explain. Please. I promise you’re going to understand everything”, she interrupted.

Azriel sighed, but resigned himself and shut his gaping mouth.

“Azriel, you are the most selfless, handsome, hardworking, intelligent male I’ve ever met.” She was interrupted by a stuttering Azriel, but she hushed him again and kept going.

“You’ve been through hell and back, yet still manage to live for others, helping them, sacrificing your time and money to do it. You’ve taking care of Rhys and Cassian as if they were your own biological brothers, you’ve done their dirty work when even they weren’t able to, loved them when they didn’t love themselves, believed in them. You’ve brought Amren blood to her apartment when she was in a mood and nobody dared to. You’ve known Mor’s secret for centuries, and don’t even try to deny it, but still you’ve love her so much, so she could realize she was worthy of any kind of love she wanted. But that’s not even scraping the surface. Azriel, you’ve been to me what no male before has: a friend, without any added relationship behind it. I mean, I consider Rhys and Cass my friends, too, maybe even Lucien, but the former ones are tied to my sisters and Lucien did it for the bond that was between us. But not you, never you. You always saw me, even in those first days when no one did. You spent time with me, even when I had nothing to give back to you. And then I fell for you. And I know you don’t think yourself worthy of me, but you are. We’re not mates, but I’m grateful for that because the Cauldron has given me the opportunity to choose you, show you how much I love you. Because somehow, if the Cauldron had made us mates, you would feel as if me being your mate was a kind of obligation, but now it isn’t. Azriel, I can see the future, but I didn’t need to, not to make this decision; it’s always been crystal clear. But not for you it hasn’t, because your opinion of yourself gets in the way. So, for our first date I decided to take you on a tour of a city you know better than anyone, but instead of showing you buildings or shop I showed you the reasons why I loved you, so you wouldn’t forget. But most important, I made you food, so symbolize how I accept the bond we’ll be creating together. A bond of our own, stronger than any other by nothing more than choice and sheer will. Az, I love you because you helped my sisters, you help others, and you’ve helped me become the person I am today. And those, are the hundred reasons why I love you”, finished Elain, breathless of all the rushed talking.

A quiet moment followed before Azriel took his hands and mimicked hers, holding her face and breathed.

“You love me?”

“Yes. And I’m going to do everything in my power―“

Azriel pressed his lips to hers, silencing her. At first, she startled, but then she reacted to him, lips moving over each other in synchronization, heat rising in her stomach in realization of what she was doing, and how right it felt.

When they pulled apart, after what felt only a second, she blushed, and he pulled her into his lap, embracing her tiny frame in his arms and pushing away stray hairs from her face, as she looked up into his eyes, a contents sigh escaping her lips as he smirked at her.

“I can’t wait”, she murmured, captivated by him and how the date had developed.

“For what, flower?”, asked Az, curious of what could this precious being so expectant.

“For the rest of our lives together”, she concluded as a new vision of family and happiness formed in her mind.

[lcgjjdh-blog]

Travel blog by Travels of Adam (Hipster Blog) – Travels of Adam (Hipster Blog) -

Well hi.

This has been a bit of a surprise for most of you—even many friends and acquaintances in Berlin. I’ve kept it under wraps for a while now because, well, I’m terrified of commitment and even the act of saying it out loud was a little hard. I couldn’t even quite agree to say whether “I’m leaving Berlin” or “I’m moving to NYC.” Both are equally terrifying and exciting and sad and, well, a hundred other emotions.

But here we go.

I’m leaving Berlin, moving back to America, to New York City. It’ll be my first time living in the Big Apple, but it’s always been a part of my bigger plans.

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Okay it& definitely official now! Berlin is cancelled. Catch me in NYC in the very near future. ??Lots of emotions about all of this but I am thankful that I won& have to deal with the Bürgeramt again!

Posted by Adam Groffman on Tuesday, February 27, 2018

  At some point in 2017 I made a promise to myself to leave Berlin. I’d reached six years in the city—just about the longest I’ve lived anywhere as an adult. And it was finally starting to feel like the right time to move on. This was not an easy decision, not even an impulse decision. It took months of planning and a lot of help from my friends and my family.

Since I publicly posted about the big change, I’ve gotten a lot of questions. Even as many of my American friends have been looking to move abroad, here I am moving back to America. It might seem ridiculous and strange, but it is what it is. And I’m 100% happy with my decision. Just scared. Terrified really. Change is always a challenge, but in my limited life experiences, I’ve found I always strive when I’m pushed to the edge.

The reasons why I’m moving range from reasons to leave Berlin (time to move on!), reasons to live back in America (to get involved! to experience NYC!), reasons to escape, to challenge myself, to be different. There are many reasons, and many personal ones, too, but here are the big five.

1. Living abroad is not easy

First, living abroad is FUCKING HARD. No one really talks about it, but living abroad is not always easy. It’s an attainable goal for most people, but it is 100% not easy. It’s also not cheap. It takes serious support from loved ones at home and abroad to make that initial move, and a certain amount of extroversion is almost necessary. Of course, living abroad is equally, if not more, rewarding. But it’s not a cakewalk.

As a foreigner, you’re often stuck in a weird place emotionally. Home is a tough thing to define, and when you’ve voluntarily left one home to create another, it’s even harder to define. The challenges of living abroad start from before you might even leave your home country. Bureaucracy, visas, residency, languages and that always-hard-to-describe “culture” are all going to create challenges. Personally, for me, I was able to master most of it: gaining basic proficiency in German, successfully navigating the bureaucracy and I even managed to make friends and build a home that I could be proud of.

Berlin is and was my home. It’s where my best friends still live; a city I know inside and out that I always will feel comfortable in. But at a certain point, I just knew that Berlin is not my forever-home. And while I’m single and young, I might as well continue my search for that place I’m looking for—wherever, whatever that is.

2. There’s always more to do in a self-made career

I left America on May 4, 2010. That’s almost exactly 8 years that I’ve lived abroad. And during that time, I’ve completely changed my career from the ground up. Today I’m an award-winning travel journalist. My blog and my writing gains more and more notoriety with each year. It’s something I’m extremely proud of, even if I sometimes seem grumpy or frustrated about the industry.

But, as an American travel writer based in Germany, and working with brands around the world, I hit the occasional snafu. A lot of my industry isn’t in Berlin, and if I want to continue with what I’m doing, I’ve got to expand and grow. In the past year or two, I’ve just felt like I hit a wall professionally, and now’s the time to take it up a notch.

They say if you can make it in NYC, you can make it anywhere. And I’m not one to turn down a challenge like that. I’ve managed this far and I’m ready for the next step. Time to S H A K E  T H I N G S  U P.

3. Politics have become increasingly important

Probably the question I’ve received most often since announcing my departure from Europe, is, “Why America? Why now?” While I have friends in the USA now currently planning their moves abroad, escapes from Trump’s America, I feel so far removed from what’s happening in the USA. Living the past eight years outside the country, I’ve missed out on as many cultural hits from the past decade as I have the political turmoil.

I am an American. I always have been and I always will be. Even if I’d like to identify as European with my residency and long-term connection to Germany, the American culture I grew up with is still deeply ingrained into who I am, what I believe, and what I want to do.

But in the past few years, I’ve felt increasingly disconnected from where I came from. Hearing the struggles of my friends in the USA dealing with healthcare, with job losses, with home ownership, with every other millennial hot topic covered in a New Yorker think piece, I just don’t know or understand fully what’s actually happening in America.

And I want to know. I feel as if I need to know.

There’s a little bit of guilt inside of me, having lived the European life as an expat in Berlin, going to parties, getting injured and having the affordable healthcare to cover it, the insurances that I would always be okay thanks to a social system built to protect me. I know it’s crazy to voluntarily leave that behind, but as an American writing about the world as I travel from here to there, it just feels like time to re-learn my cultural history.

And, also: I’m happy to have a little pride in the country whose passport I carry. Or, at least I’d like to be happy and proud. One of the biggest reasons I want to return to America now is to help shape my country into what I want it to be, to get more involved politically (locally!) and to hopefully make a more positive difference. I’ve spent years traveling around the world and living in Europe, and it’s time I took those experiences, those things I’ve learned, and (with any luck) bring some of it back to the country that will always be my home.

As a foreigner living in Berlin, I was never fully going to be integrated politically. It’s something I learned previously when I was living in Tel Aviv, working in a political NGO. People will always see you as an interloper, a foreigner trying to inflict your own ideas onto an adopted home. And, in Germany, as a non-European, I simply wasn’t entitled to all the services my European friends received. In fact, I wasn’t allowed to vote on a lot of the decisions that had a direct impact on my life abroad.

My 2008 life plan has been slow moving, but surprisingly I’ve managed to achieve some of this in one way or another!

4. There’s more of the world to discover

With my six+ years living in Berlin, I’ve managed to see a lot of Europe. I’ve been lucky to travel more than most people—some 40 odd countries or so—but I’ve missed a lot on the American continent. And, frankly, there’s still a lot more to see and explore in the USA, too.

Six years based in Europe has made it easy and affordable to travel a lot around the continent, to get a pretty deep understanding of how things work on that continent culturally and politically. But there’s so much more to the world and as a natural explorer, I’m ready to branch out.

5. It’s New York City, baby!

As much as this big life change is about “leaving Berlin,” it’s equally about “moving to NYC.” From as far back as I can remember, I always just assumed I would live in New York City at some point. It seemed like the only natural thing to do when I was a kid growing up in Texas—I had family connections and roots to the city; it was the backdrop for every movie and TV show that I’d obsess over. NYC was always a part of my plan.

For college, I skipped the idea of NYC, afraid to go from the suburbs to the “big city” and totally unaware of how it would even be possible as an 18-year old. (I wasn’t ever very brave or much of a risk-taker, as much as you might believe otherwise from my travel stories.) In college in Boston, I’d visit NYC frequently thanks to the cheap Chinatown buses—always staying with friends, in town one ridiculous night at a time.

After my year-and-a-half backpacking around the world, I landed in Berlin pretty much on accident. The city sucked me in like it does so many others. I was in love with the cheap thrills, the easy-to-navigate city life. And, in fact, half the city I knew seemed to have moved from either London or NYC themselves, escaping the very city I once dreamed of living in. That kept me in Berlin, thinking I was one step ahead of the others.

I recently found an old journal from 2008 and this silly list of places I wanted to live in!

But, visiting NYC again and again over the past decade, I’ve come to realize there really is nowhere quite like New York City. It’s been a lifelong goal, and it’s never going to happen unless I make it happen. That’s the one life lesson I’ve learned over and over: nothing happens unless you make it happen.

Plus, come on!!! It’s NYC! Broadway, the MET, Fifth Avenue, Brooklyn, pizza…everything is in NYC. It’s the city where everything happens and, honestly, I just hate the idea of missing out.

• • •

There are other reasons I’m making this move now, and not later. But this was 100% my decision. One of my biggest fears is boredom and in the past year, Berlin has been a bit boring tbqh. It’s a city I love, and one I will always call home, but I need a new challenge, a new place to explore, a new motivation.

I’m equal parts terrified and excited about this change. I don’t know what will happen. But I do know that it doesn’t really matter. I’m lucky enough to have work that allows me to have a certain amount of mobility, a self-sustained career that affords plenty of opportunities to exist how and where I want. And I’d be silly not to take those extra steps for those extra challenges.

See you in NYC, baby!

Leaving Berlin doesn’t feel like a goodbye

The post I’m moving back to America. Here’s why… appeared first on Travels of Adam (Hipster Blog).

[neytinintransit]

one summer’s day (ed. 1)

Every morning, my mother goes down to her old crystal shop at the front of our house and burns several spears of incense as she prays. And every morning, my mother prays for Ryan and me. In fact, she is so religiously dedicated to this ritual that my high school friends always associated me with the smell of incense before I grew smart enough to invest in some strongly-scented body soap. When she prays, she demands complete privacy and silence (a request which my brother and I may not treat with much respect), for fear that part of her spirit may be trapped in another world if interrupted mid-process. Eric discovered this contraption pictured above at the beginning of our visit and, being the free spirit he is, didn’t hesitate to set it in motion. Oddly enough, even though I just hopped on a plane and flew an ocean away from home, the scent makes this foreign environment seem mildly familiar. I was talking to Joy about this, but I think I’ve traveled enough to out-grow my fear of foreign lands.

Another thing I’ve learned from past travels is that I quickly grow tired of aimless wandering when there isn’t any form of personal growth involved. Last Spring, I remember wandering around Rome and feeling at a loss for why I was there and not home. Why wasn’t I at KO Gym working the bags with Coach? Why wasn’t I cooking up some fancy, fulfilling side-project? Why the hell was I spending so much time at these random spots in the world, walking my feet sore to the bone? There was no purpose or direction. After all, that’s what aimless wandering is. And on the plane/train ride here, I decided that wasn’t what I wanted. Not ever again- or at least I hope.

So as I mentioned in the blog post below, I’ve decided to set a number of goals. They’re not necessarily huge, monumentous goals. Just little things I’d like to be able to tick off here and there. The list is growing/shrinking as I skip around the continent, so there isn’t very strong commitment to them either. But they’re there, and I’m hoping for them to move me forward. 

But before we get to the abstract stuff, let’s do a quick-dirty rundown of Tokyo. I’m not quite as shocked anymore when this happens, but once again my worlds have collided. Pictured left is Raheem of Princeton, the nobel ram that everyone adores. On the right is Eric of Troy, the pupperino that’s accompanying me for the duration trip. We all met up in Ginza, the classy, high-fashion upper-class neighborhood of Tokyo. We didn’t spend too much time there, but I was able to go through this stationary shop called G.Itoya and hunt for little gifts. I mentioned below that one of my goals was to find souvenirs from different parts my travels for a select few people. Some of them told me that I didn’t have to, and if you’re reading this, I promise took your advice to heart. I will not mindlessly purchase meaningless artifacts, but if I do see something that I know will make said persons happy, you can bet I’m taking that gold back to homebase.

After scrambling around for a restaurant that had vegetarian (Raheem is vegetarian) options, we made a trip over to the Tokyo Tower. On the way there, we happened to pass through a number of Japanese gardens, landscapes lush with greenery, unlike the gardens back home sprinkled with a variety of colorful flowers. 

Pit stop no. 1 is that red-white Eiffel Tower looking thing. As expected, there’s an elevator that takes you to the top and provides a 360 degree view of Tokyo. To be honest, it wasn’t the most awe-inspiring activity, though it was a good introduction to the city.

After marching around the tower and shopping at the random souvenir shops throughout several floors, we made way to meet Eric’s college friends, Yi and Lucy. They’re traveling together like Eric and me, and their personalities click pretty well. Yi has one of the most dynamic personalities I’ve met, with as much energy as Dory from Finding Nemo. Lucy is much more calm and relaxed, but feels very genuine and down to earth from our conversations.

The five of us mapped out a 20 minute walk to Harajuku, the stylish art and fashion district of Tokyo. With a steady combination of terrible navigation skills and California-style walking, twenty minutes became a solid hour and a half. There were no regrets from walking on my end, however. To me, that just meant we had an extra hour and ten minutes of conversation and exploration (e.g. a puppy shop, Shake Shack, more gardens, getting to know friends, old and new.

And at the end of our journey, we were blessed with this little gem in the sky. Sunsets at the beach are wonderful, but they don’t quite capture that magic that these sunsets do— the way the autumn-shaded sunlight collides with the clouds to create the purple and orange and yellow and red.

When we weren’t staring at the sky, we were browsing through some pretty cool (and cheap) shops. I really liked this place. It reminded me a bit of 南锣鼓巷 in Beijing, except it was a bit more stylish with a larger variety. Almost like a hybrid of that and Brick Lane in London, I guess. It’s funny how you start comparing places in different countries to one another after you’ve traveled enough. Almost like how you start to describe new friends in relation to old ones you’ve made after you’ve run out of room in your mind to store completely new identities.

On the note of old friends, we met up with Hiro and got Izakaya later that night. Izakaya usually consists of bar foods and beer/sake, and it was a great way for us to talk about the parts of life that passed when we were apart. She really is one of the kindest, warmest, most considerate souls that I’ve ever met. And I feel like part of me always misses her company. I guess that’s when you know you’ve found yourself a good friend.

Since we’re coming closer and closer to that metaphysical, abstract level of thought, we can just go there. On this trip, I want to be able to glean little life lessons and pockets of wisdom as I march forward. To be able to reflect, understand, and meditate on certain thoughts and philosophies that I’ve developed and changed through the years. It’s a process called adulting, and it’s happening. I have to accept that, and I have to embrace it with complete willingness, otherwise it will out-run me.

Pictured above is an Ema. Quoted directly from Wikipedia, “Ema are small wooden plaques on which Shinto worshippers write their prayers or wishes. The ema are then left hanging up at the shrine, where the kami (spirits or gods) are believed to receive them.” One of my favorite parts of my trip through Tokyo was finding little shrines scattered throughout the city that contained stopping points that collected the wishes and hopes of its inhabitants. On the flip side of every lotus flower was a wish that someone in this world felt was important enough to share with the world.

I’m not one to believe in fate, but I do know that certain things catch my eye for a reason. And when this note appeared in my field of view, I felt myself immediately attracted to it. For some reason, this phrase elicited a sense of nostalgia- both the pain of loss and the hope for a happier future. After reading it, I began to contemplate why people feel, so strongly, this urge to love. Why is it that people believe that the capacity to care for something other than you is greater than any form of care you’ll ever have?

Within the past few years, I’ll admit that I’ve done things I’m not proud of (Teemo reference ‘sup). With each of those actions, I started to like myself less and less. I saw flaws in my behavior and how they existed in complete contradiction to what I believed were my values. Self-love is hard to maintain, and if you’re not careful, it eventually withers away. But what I think I’m starting to realize is that love and care for others is what anchors me down. I’m not sure why, but when I love so strongly— be it my family, a significant other, a city— it draws out behaviors and actions that I find admirable. It makes me a better person, and a person that I think I could possibly love.

And I think that is why An is searching for love again. I know the whole preach of independence is important, but for some reason, it’s awfully hard for me to love myself if I can’t find that same love and care for anyone else.

Everyday, thousands of people travel to shrines to pray for their loved ones. For those that have both passed and are living, they pray for the well-being of their souls. These shrines connect people to loved ones, beyond the flesh and bone with which we were born with. While walking around, I noticed several people fresh from work, coming to pay their respects and leave their wishes.

Next to the shrine, piles of burnt incense serve as a monument to these prayers. Growing up, I’ve always found it interesting that incense was chosen to be the tool of choice to pray to the Gods. Growing up, I’ve also found it interesting the way my mom and dad seemed to sacrifice so much for my brother and me.

Growing up, I had all these dreams of success, of wild, wild success. I’ve had dreams of becoming the president of the United States, of becoming the CEO of the next big startup. I’ve thought of all these things, and I still do. Without a doubt, I believe that my mom and dad thought of these things throughout their lives as well. I believe they still do.

And yet, I’ve always found it so interesting how they were able to make all these sacrifices for my brother and me. Why do my mother and father work their entire lives for our sake? Mom doesn’t care about real-estate, and Dad sure doesn’t give a shit about construction. So why would they dedicate the day-in-day-out to us?

Every morning, my mother goes down to her old crystal shop at the front of our house and burns several spears of incense as she prays. Every morning, my mother prays for Ryan and me. And I’m beginning to understand why I would do the same for another, and why I’m not completely crazy for doing so. I’m not saying that it’s the right path, by any means, but I can understand it now. Because when you’ve found something you like, very very much, what you want doesn’t seem so important anymore. You find joy and love in theirs.

On a final note, I can’t think of another picture that I resonate with more right now. I don’t know why I always do this to myself, but it’s currently 4:30AM and I’m ready to konk the $#@% out. 

Goodnight world.

—

TL:DR I get why people have kids now. 

Adulting pt. 1 checked.

[patatinolovenotes]

love notes #Part1

12/18/16:

Y- They said that you can forget what words people said to you, you can forget what they did to hurt or love you, but you can’t forget how they make you feel and I am so grateful to ever experience that with you. Thank you for giving me such an amazing memory from day 1. Although we always talk about what ifs and things that could have happened earlier, but I always believe a little on fate, and I somehow believe we were meant to experience all these passion, sex and happiness together even if it is only for a few days. This trip was very short and the journey of getting to know each other better has been bumpy but I don’t regret a thing that ever happened to make us closer. From day one I knew you were something special, with your gentle and big heart, I see a new world that was beyond what I could have experienced myself. You make me a little bit crazy and have hearts in my eyes and I thank you for giving me this emotion, I seldom felt like this and I probably never felt it so strong before. You are such an amazing being with a beautiful soul that has sparkling aura around you, anyone who is lucky enough to see that is just as lucky as I am. I deeply wish you the best, anything you wish will come true, and everything you loved and touched will become gold. Just like you, I don’t know what’s love, but I knew that it was something different with you, and I truly appreciated. Maybe one day I will understand what I felt with you meant, yet until then, i can’t thank you enough for everything. From the laughs, jokes, understandings, deep touches from holding hands to those warmth and lust we exchanged on bed, I can’t ask for anything more for a trip this short. I will never forget what happened  was beautiful and magical. Now that our lives are going through some changes ourselves, but deep down I gave so much faith for fate to bring us back together some time soon. Maybe things were not ready and meant to be few months ago, but after this journey, I believe we are compatible for having each other deep down in our hearts and maybe create something more exciting and hard to imagine stories in the future. Thank you, patatino, I want to not only be your sex and love for a short time, but I would love to become your happiness and support for a while, and I truly hope to pamper you more in the future, because you touched my soul so deep than what I have experienced. You can always count on me. And I really hope we can stay connected through our twisted little scheme…. haha. Maybe we are a little bit freaky, twisted, and madly caring for one another, but I know it was something real, hope it was the same for you. Thank you once again, there are no words for me to say it more, you are special, and I have faith that soon enough we will see each other again and ready to weave more memories together. Thank you, my lovely being, soul, monkey, patatino! Many love and xxxx, ps. I wish loads of love, happiness, and sex in your life. un bacione.

                    Amore mio I have no words to express the happiness you made me feel by using such precise description of our shared feelings. Once again you made me perceive the atmosphere of love I could smell, see, feel sometimes even taste😏. The most amazing event was for me to be detached from everything. Surreal perception of time. I could feed my self, both soul  and body of your love. I really thought about the future and I came up with the idea that I don't know which type of fate will take place in my life, in your life but somewhere, somehow there is time for more love between me and you. I'm sure that in a lifetime our two souls will meet again to share time. It was a incredible journey and we both discovered something new of our selfs through the love of the other and this power is only possible when the bond is tight. I'm not sad, even if I miss you badly, because I discovered an extraordinary friend. You are always welcomed at anytime wherever I am for any reason. As you said: you can always count on me baby. I feel al this boundaries made out of words cannot really express my feelings for you but I can say that you are in my mind more than anything else. I'm sure you'll have a bright future and we might be shining together soon. I miss you in my every minute I feel orphan after leaving my little patatina. I want to see you very soon.Sympathetic, city of locks, savannah.Can't wait to see you again and spend my time with you. I kiss you every where and send you my deep love.Peter                        

12/19-

P-Patata❤while you sleep big things are happening in the old continent. The Russian ambassador in turkey was murdered in Ankara some hours ago and there was a terrorist attack at the Christmas market in Berlin..Maybe your last night dream was a sign.. Or people are just crazy as hell.. A truck went in and crashed killing several people.Apparently german police captured the terrorist. I need your mouth to improve my English, I need you to whisper in my ears, I need you to pull my hairs while I eat your sex, pussy. Wish always to have you here with me, I have a big bed you know..ready to host you. And I have three pillows..so net no problems with stealing pillows🐽 sogni d'oro stellina Mia 💤sleep tight

Y-Ciao amore mio, I had trouble sleeping tonight, I have become like a wolf able to hear all the small and big movements in this city, or maybe I miss you too deeply... I miss everything about you, but your mouth the most. I also miss having my hands going through your hair, the roughness of your hair in between my fingers is another sense of pleasure while you give the most pleasurable pussy session ever. I read those news in between my sleepless nights, I completed forgot about how they align with my dream until you said it now.. silly me, probably have my mind on something else deeper. In case you haven't notice, I could be a little bit greedy from time to time, so for example no sex is ever enough, and pillows are the same cases...💗 I wish you were here to tuck me in bed. I can never sleep without an eye mask, but with you I slept nicely without it for few days, except the fact that you would wake me up in the morning. Anyhow, my tiresome mumbles should draw an end now, I just wish you were here so my mumbles, jokes, and our laughs wouldn't seem as long as they are seem on this text.. wishing you a good night sleep 🍒

12/20/16

Y-:Passion can fade online but what matters is the connection and warmth in person. I hope we can still have those connection when we meet in person next time 😊💗                         Drive safe my love                         Buona notte 🌙

P- My passion for you will never fade because deep down somewhere in my soul you found the key to open my love.❤ I'll be your lover always, you can always count on me for anything. Hope you are dreaming nice things and that jet lag is not making you sleepless. I want to be the only reason for you to be bothered in your sleep. Buona Notte stellina, ti penso sempre🐽🐒

12/21

Y- Amore mio. Just thought about last year we spent Chinese New Year together actually, the night wandering in Geneva, on the same bed, which surprisingly nothing happened. Have an amazing amazing time, hope the drive and dinner isn't too rough.. 😞 I miss you dearly. And catch up with Sputnik sweetheart. Almost finished half!! Tanti baci per patatino mio. ❤ hope I'll get my wet dream tonight... 💙🤘🏻🤘🏻🤘🏻

P-Amore mio. I really wish you were here with me🐽❤ my dad is super angry and disappointed and I honestly don't know what to do more than that. Anyway beside that I love everything about how things are going between us.. And I really mean when I say my body and my mind are at your disposal. I want you so much I don't know how I'll make it till next time

12/28:

Y- Amore mio, I'm going to try to sleep now (hopefully). I can't wait to wake up and hear your voice and see you on skype. Thinking about you makes me happy every day, although a bit sad that you are not here physically, I miss you dearly ❤ can't wait to see you soon. Can't wait to hold hands while we have sex. Buona notte stellino, have a fun night x

P-Buona notte stellina mia. ❤ i miss you like I've been with you for ages, and I really want you to be in my life longer. Tomorrow we will be super happy even more because I'll book the flight so I'll be a bit happier to celebrate newyears eve because I'll be eating the days till I'll be able to pamper my little patatina🐽🤘🏽make her happy, full, and satisfied in life only because of our existence for one another . I send you kisses and hugs👅 I hope you are sleeping tight my love

12/29:

Y: Amore mio have a great great nights                         Yes we will travel more, to south east Asia, dessert, Caribbean, glaciers, anywhere. We are travel lovers and sometimes soul lovers I would say, because you get me, and I see how you do things to make me happy and pamper me, that means a lot to me.                         Next time when another person asks you what's the most romantic thing you did, I think you could say follow a girl to another countries, whether it is for Paris or T, and more to come. Because for me this is the sweetest genuine thing that a person could do. And I truly sees it all. Goodnight my love have a great one. It's passed midnight here so 17 days more to go ❤                 Tons of love, patatina

P- Stellina mia you are amazing🐽. As I already told you I don't know much about love nor what really love is but I think our days in T are one of the nearest thing to love we will have. Midnight is passed here as well now and in 17 days I'll be able to refugee in your arms baby and draining each other just for the sake of being excited together exploring the world through the other. Anyway the sweet genuine thing is shared because you'll host me and use your time with me which is in the end the most precious good. I miss you so much bsby now and I'm out with high school mates 🐥. Buona Notte patata 🐒❤

12/30:

P-I'm sorry baby my phone run out of battery while I was driving up the mountains and couldn't answer because the road is in the dark🌲🌚 how was the night ? Tomorrow we will go skiing with my birthed and his friends we had and amazing dinner tonight ! Everything is nice and smooth beside I miss you badly. Are you safe and sound home stellina? Wish you a good night amore

12/31:

P- Patata I’ve been thinking about you a lot in these days and also about your little amount of superstition on new years eve and I want to elaborate my love and wishes of strong life through these words: Every morning when I wake up still under the sky roof, I feel that for me is always New Year. I hate these fixed New Years that makes life of the human spirit as a multinational company with its goods yearly end balance, and its budget and the budget, goals, achivments for the new management. Humans are losing the sense of continuity of life and spirit. I want every morning to be a new year for us. Every day I want to set life goals with myself and hopefully with you, renovating life and love every single morning. I choose to be the being I am every single morning, when I feel drunk of love with intense life and also when I want to behave animalistic in order to find new inspirational strength. By stating that I am not judging the celebrations nor your small superstition approach (which by the way I find lovely) but I just want to remind to both of us that life is beautiful every second when love is your religion and guiding line. Thats why I loose the sense of time when I’m you're around pampering me with your presence. Whatever we are going to influence, work on if passione and love are there, than goals are achievable every single day and I want to be your source of energy, the soul you can always rely on, the buddy you can always cry with, the body that satisfies your physiological needs, the friend, the lover, your soulmate person. I wish you a life full of lovely humanity, strong spirit and indestructible health. In a nutshell I hope we will cherish time together through this new year or in the future in order to be the sun and the moon for each other. I found in you the magical atmosphere of genuine love I was waiting for and I’ll be always thankful for what you made me feel and the time shared with no regrets whatsoever might happen. Once again, your palatino monkey sends you tons of love and thousands of kisses to cover every single inch of your marvelous body this night. Soon I’ll be able to do it in person and at the moment I live with a dream.. oh dreams.. the only thing that keep us going on.. the realistic dream to visit you in your exotic homeland. Enjoy your night Golden Mouth, feel life, feel the power you have because your being is full of light. Be your self, because you are a beautiful human. Love P.

1/1:

Y- Dear patatino, thank you for the kind words, wishes and love. I have read it many many times throughout the night because it's so beautiful, and I'm so lucky to have had this amazing words coming from the person I truly care. Amore mio, you are an amazing soul, I still can't believe I was able to not just cross path with you but to able to build some memories, you create an ecstatic of spirits, love and passion for my life, and this is also what I have been looking for. You know one think I truly am grateful of for that's also a reason why I cherish you deeply is your genuine passion for life and you sensitivity towards what matters to me, and so this is why you become a reason that matters to me. I am also your person who you could count on and share you happiness, love, lust, sadness and madness. One thing I really enjoy about life is finding exotic people either great heart, this is a reason that's keep me going and happy everyday. Thinking of you everyday makes me happy, not just because what we have share but because of your existence as a special being. Always be yourself, my beautiful patatino monkey, because who you are makes me smile with happiness. I wish you a life full of happiness, love, and sex as always. Also more energy as time passes ... 🙈 I can't wait to see you to look you into the eyes and feel the passion once again. Happy new year my love, may 2017 and more in the future to come for us to create more memories. And maybe just maybe next year, we will be spending this time together. Yours truly, Patatino. Wo ai ni x

1/2:

P-You are officially in my books now..

P: I always keep these volume for special memories beside my normal diary. I have only one big for the special which I need to keep it as only one for the entire life                         P: And you have a page now, with that dinner in Paris, the atmosphere and everything later on I though a page was more than deserved