#(Lucid: Why are all these mirrors out of service?!)

[brokendreamscreation-moved]

@helluva-hazbins I was looking at my tags of Lucid and Lu for our general verse, “Mirror Mirror” and realized if we did a vampire au I’d be tagging it “Broken Mirror”. Not because Lu’s whole world has shattered that he can’t even see himself physically and metaphorically.

It’s because Lucid thinks the mirrors are broken or vampire phobic ROFL

[webbluvrsugar]

also also! how about ethan × virgin youngest carpenter sister reader (bc i literally can never get enough of that dynamic + i feel like it would be a really interesting added layer, being the youngest carpenter she always acts like she knows what she’s doing bc she’s sick of being told what to do by her overprotective sister sam) who’s still teasing him about it (similar to this dynamic) even though she’s also literally just as inexperienced as him, but they lose their virginities to each other bc she doesn’t want to die a virgin & ofc he’s like you’re not gonna die (bc he knows something we don’t xhzbzb😭) but ofc he’s still like vv enthusiastic about losing his virginity to you / taking your virginity bc you’re literally the girl of his dreams he’s always falling all over himself for<3

sorry if that was a lot shdbdbs i’m more lucid now so i had more time to overthink this one😭

p.s. you’re literally my savior saving the ethan landry fic fandom rn & bringing our boyfriend home so genuinely tysm for your service🥰🫡

a/n: supposed to be sleeping but I just couldn’t get this off my mind!!

bully!reader loses her virginity to Ethan (who is also a virgin)

You didn’t mean to let it all out on Ethan sometimes, it’s just, your sister, Sam, has been annoying you, it’s always “Don’t do this.” or “Don’t do that, it’s dangerous.”, it’s not like you’re a fucking kid anymore, it’s annoying, but all it took was for him to be in the wrong place at the wrong time, water from his bottle dripping all onto you, you’re immediately pissed, now he’s trying to help.

“You know what? It would be so great if you could just go away and I don’t know — get laid or something.” You shout back at him as you walk into the bathroom, looking over at the wet stain in the pretty top you’re wearing.

Ethan usually stays quiet to your insults, he doesn’t think it’s worth it, but he doesn’t understand why you have to be so sour towards him when he hasn’t done anything — asides from drenching you in water.

“What is up with you?” He follows you to the bathroom. “Sam didn’t let you party past your bedtime?”

God, he’s annoying — you think, and he can almost hear your thoughts by the menacing look you throw at him before tugging your top completely off your body.

“And, by the way, you keep — you keep talking about that stuff,” right that stuff, you scoff and roll you eyes at him, focusing on the mirror while he tries not to look at you topless. “but.. I bet you’re just… lying anyways.”

This is what ticks you off, sure, you may have been a little deceiving towards him but.. it’s not like it matters anyways.

“Lying?” You turn to him, cross your arms over your chest. “You think I’m lying?” You are lying. “What, you wanna check?”

He turns fully red, messes up his own words before he can get a proper sentence out. “That’s not… you know that’s not what I’m saying, I just think you’re full of shit.”

“Why the fuck would I lie about that?” You take a step closer to him.

“Cause… you think you’re better than everyone when really you’re just mad cause Sam is always watching you.” You gasp, fake a scoff as if you’re not bothered, he spots a little crack in your attitude. This time, it’s him who steps closer. “And you act like you’re not scared of that damn killer when I bet you’re also pissing yourself.”

You stay silent this time, your arms clench around your chest before you sigh.

“It’s not like that..”

Ethan softens, he realises he may have been a little out of line with his statements.

“I’m sorr—“

“I also don’t wanna die a virgin, it’s embarrassing, so what?” You interrupt, Ethan raises a brow, he could almost laugh.

First because he knows you’re not dying. Second because, that’s your biggest fear? There’s a killer out there — he’s out there gutting your friends and you’re thinking about… that?

“I… could help.” He suggests, he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t thinking about it.

There’s silence again before you let your arms fall beside you. “But you’re also..”

“I wouldn’t mind.” He states.

Yeah, he wouldn’t mind.

He really wouldn’t mind.

And you don’t mind it either when he fucks you through the pain, making you pay for all of your insults.

You won’t die a virgin after all.

[lucidpayments]

Searching for Easy Payment Solutions? Our Sales Manager, Michael Nelson, Can Help

Like it or not, if you own a business, you’re going to need some kind of payment processing.

But our industry doesn’t do much to clarify things for merchants, and for the most part, it fails to provide easy payment solutions, keeping everything as convoluted as possible.

That being said, we understand how difficult it can be for business owners like you to try to understand what payment processing is, how it works, what exactly it is you’re paying for, and what provider you should choose to get the best service and the best deal.

With that in mind, at Lucid Payments, we’re on a mission to protect the best interests of business owners, provide easy payment solutions, and give you greater clarity on your payment processing.

And if there’s one member of our team who best embodies these goals, it has to be our long-time Sales Manager, Michael Nelson.

Our customers are constantly raving about the services Michael provides, as he loves to go above and beyond for them in whatever way he can.

As a show of our appreciation, we want to take this opportunity to highlight Michael’s dedication to our customers and introduce him to merchants like you.

So, if you’re searching for easy payment solutions, and you need someone to answer your questions and help you get everything set up, keep reading to learn how Michael can help.

Looking for Easy Payment Solutions? Michael Can Help

Whether you’re in the market for online payment solutions, payment solutions for retail, or something else entirely, Michael can make everything easy for you.

But before we go any further into that, let’s take a moment to get to know Michael a bit better.

Michael has been doing sales in one form or another for the last 25 years, he’s been with Lucid Payments for the last six years, and he currently lives in Sylvan Lake, Alberta.

Aside from his work in sales, before Michael joined Lucid Payments, he worked as a DJ for 27 years and ran his own IT business, which involved things like setting up networks and installing surveillance cameras.

Michael is also a single dad with four kids and the proud owner of a Chihuahua named Gringo.

When he’s not helping business owners, hanging out with family, or walking the dog, Michael loves to spend time cruising around on his Onewheel and dancing at music festivals.

Why Michael Chose to Work for Lucid Payments

Before starting with Lucid Payments, Michael had an awful experience working for another payment processor, not least because he felt like they weren’t being honest with him.

This was having a decidedly negative effect on Michael’s ability to do his job, and if they weren’t being honest with him, then you can bet they were doing the same thing with their customers.

“I worked for them for about three months,” he said. “And I walked away from it because I was ready to pull out my hair. I couldn’t even get answers to simple questions.”

Then he spoke to our VP of Operations, Steven Cumiskey, and that one phone call was enough to change Michael’s perspective on our industry.

Steven was able to answer almost all the questions Michael had, and the couple of things that he didn’t know offhand, he got back to him about the next day.

“I’ve used the term smoke and mirrors as my description of this industry,” said Michael. “But Lucid Payments offered all the clarity I was missing.”

What’s more, our mission, which is to protect the best interests of business owners, give them greater clarity, and provide simplified payment processing, really resonated with Michael.

“That’s exactly how I live my life,” he said. “When somebody needs something, I’m going to try and figure out a way to help them. And if I can’t, I’m going to try and find somebody I know who can.”

As a business owner himself, the most fulfilling part of Michael’s role with Lucid Payments has been helping other business owners.

Whether it’s helping them set up their equipment, showing them how to operate it, explaining how our industry works, going over their statements to explain what they’re paying for, or helping them save money on their payment processing, there’s nothing Michael loves more.

How Michael Has Helped Our Customers

Throughout his more than six years with Lucid Payments, Michael has helped countless customers.

Whether it’s issues with equipment, poor customer service, or just being tired of paying too much, if you’ve got a problem with your payment processing, or you’re looking for easy payment solutions, chances are, he can help.

And to give you a better idea of how he can help, here are some examples of what Michael has been able to accomplish for our customers:

Chief’s Pub & Eatery

Before choosing to work with Lucid Payments, Chief’s Pub & Eatery used to have lots of technical issues with the outdated payment terminals that were provided by their previous processor.

Michael recently switched them over to newer and more reliable machines, which has solved all of these problems for them, and we were even able to save them over 60 per cent on their monthly processing costs.

Mullets Barbershop

When they opened their first location about three years ago, Michael was able to help Mullets Barbershop get their payment processing set up and made sure they understood everything.

Since then, they’ve opened four more locations, and as a result of how happy they’ve been with the service Michael’s provided, they’ve chosen to work exclusively with Lucid Payments for their payment processing.

Party Chef

Party Chef, which combines a restaurant and local artisanal market, had a rough start when they launched a couple of years ago.

When they first opened, they went with a processor from Ontario, and within the first two days, they were already having issues accepting Mastercard and debit payments.

The following week, they agreed to go with Lucid Payments, and Michael was able to solve these problems by switching them to a more reliable and efficient payment terminal.

Shortly after that, they wanted to launch their website, so Michael worked with them on the initial setup, and he’s always available to answer any questions they have.

“I highly recommend Michael for his exceptional local service, strong communication skills, and willingness to go above and beyond to assist. He is always readily available to provide support and ensures that his clients receive the attention they need. Whether it’s a quick question or a more complex issue, Michael is consistently reliable and responsive,” said Party Chef’s owner, Lydia Neergaard.

“His dedication to helping others is evident in his proactive approach to problem-solving and his genuine interest in addressing clients’ needs. I have been consistently impressed with his professionalism and commitment to delivering top-notch service. I am grateful for his assistance and would not hesitate to recommend him to others.”

What Our Customers Have to Say About Michael

We’re constantly getting compliments from satisfied customers who can’t help but rave about the experience they’ve had working with Michael.

Whether it’s his helpful and friendly demeanour, dedication, expertise, or ability to provide easy payment solutions, our customers have no shortage of good things to say about him.

One look at our Google reviews, many of which mention Michael by name, should be enough evidence of that. Here are some of the compliments he’s received so far:

Still searching for easy payment solutions? You can call Michael at (403) 396-6941, email him at michael@lucidpayments.ca, or contact us for more information.

[loserholland]

𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐋𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐚𝐠𝐞 | 𝐁.𝐁

Pairing ➺ Modern!Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

Warning ➺ Nothing but fluff

Word Count ➺ 2.9k

Summary ➺ In which you discover Bucky’s love language.

A/N ➺ Based off a dream I had a couple nights ago, I’ve been trying to shift for the past ten months but I’m pretty sure that dream could’ve been me lucid dreaming? This is the full version- the previous version I posted was only half because I was afraid it wouldn’t do so well- BUT here we are! Enjoy! Comments and feedback appreciated <3

✿ 𝓟𝓮𝓻𝓶𝓪𝓷𝓮𝓷𝓽 𝓣𝓪𝓰𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽 ✿ - @loveyathreethousand @killerqueen-gunpowdergelatine @spideyyypeter @lou-la-lou​@babebenhardy @rivervixenbaby @acklesholland @zabdisamor @keepingupwiththehollands @sweet666pea @sspider-parker @jackiehollanderr @caro0512 @thewinchesterchronicles @cporter003 @kisses-holland @spideysnugget @cryszus @sunflowerharrystyles @peterunderoos @ohbabycal @laucontrerasv​ @spider-mendes​ @jessybellsworld​ @quaksonhehe​

☞  Masterlist  ☜

There are five different types of love languages:

Words of affirmation; Encourage, affirm, appreciate, empathize. Listen Actively.

Physical Touch; Non-verbal- use body language and touch to express love.

Receiving Gifts; Thoughtfulness, make your spouse a priority, speak purposefully.

Quality time; Uninterrupted and focused conversations. One-on-one time is critical.

Acts of Service; Use action phrases like “I’ll help..”. They want to know you’re with them, partnered with them.

Bucky’s love language was physical touch. Any chance he got, he’d have his hands on you, tracing random patterns on your arm, his face nuzzled into your neck, tracing the lines on your palm. Dragging you back to bed when you’re about to get your day started peppering kisses all over your face in protest.

Some people may see it as clingy but (Y/N) never saw it as that, she loved when Bucky showered her with love- he didn’t need to say anything when he’d come into her room from a long day at work, his eyes focused on his feet.

The sound of their bedroom door slowly creaking open caught her attention, she knew who it was. Slowly moved over to the other side of the bed, pulling back the duvet covers allowing the man to join her. Once he slipped under the covers he engulfed her into a hug, burying his face in her neck.

She ran her hand up and down his back soothingly the other tangled in his damp hair, he began to relax his shoulders more as she continued to massage his scalp.

They would lay like this till tell fell asleep, the next morning however Bucky wouldn’t want to let her go claiming she was too warm and huggable.

“Bucky honey? Ready to go?”

They were currently in California for her younger brother’s wedding. The last time they were in California it was for Christmas and, that’s when you had first introduced your family to Bucky.

“Do I look okay?” Bucky asked for what felt like the hundredth time, smoothing his hands over his pants.

(Y/N) cupped his cheeks pressing a chaste kiss to his lips, “You look handsome, as always Bucky. They’re gonna love you as much as I love you.” the door to your childhood home swung open revealing your mother. Bucky’s right hand immediately intwined with your left giving his a small squeeze.

“(Y/N/N)! Come in, come in! And oh! You must be James, she talks nonstop about you!”

“Mom!” (Y/N) whispered causing Bucky to chuckle loudly lifting his left hand for her mother to shake, “All good things I hope.” her mother laughed in return, “Oh none of that let me give you a hug!” You stifled back a laugh at your mother’s sudden action,

Bucky leaned against the doorframe of the bathroom raising his brows slightly, “Doll, I’ve been ready. You’re the one that’s still in the bathroom.” She lifted her gaze to the mirror a playful smirk painting her lips.

“Well, I wanted to get the day started but you pulled me back to bed.” Bucky pushed himself off the doorframe walking over to wrap his arms around her waist, resting his chin on her shoulder.

“Fine fine, we’re both at fault.” Bucky murmured kissing the base of your neck all the way up to your cheek, he spun you around moving his hands from your waist the the counter top caging you in.

He dipped his head down capturing your cherry stained lips it was easy to get lost in the moment when he had you like this, “Bucky.” he hummed against your lips moving his hands from the counter to cup her cheeks.

(Y/N) placed her hands onto his chest pushing him back slightly “If you keep kissing me-” he hummed again not budging from his spot “we won’t leave this bathroom.” she pulled away admiring his red stained lips.

“C’mon loverboy, I want to beat to the crowd.”

Loverboy

A nickname Sam one of Bucky’s friends from college had given him.

Sam watched as Bucky walked into the kitchen heading straight for the medicine cabinet taking out some painkillers and a warm compress. They were suppose to be heading out for a boys night but your cramps were killing you and even if you assured Bucky you’d be fine he didn’t budge.

He snickered to himself knowing exactly who they were for, he had told Steve many times that you had him wrapped around your finger and that anytime you enter the room he turned into a lovesick puppy.

“What do you have to say Sam?”

His back was still faced away watching as the keurig filled the mug up with hot water, he reached for the tea packets besides the k-pods tearing the packet open.

“Oh loverboy, you’re down bad there’s a word that Peter uses- pimp? No that’s not right, something imp-”

Bucky snorted as he placed the teabag into the mug, “An imp is a mischievous person.” Sam snapped his fingers, “Simp! That’s what they’re using now days.” Bucky glared tossing the teabag that sat in the mug long enough, “I don’t care what vocabulary Peter uses. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to tend to loving girlfriend. See yourself out!”

Sam chuckled loudly before shouting, “Whatever you say loverboy!”

He entered back into your shared bedroom placing all the items onto the night stand, slipping under the covers so he can hold you in his arms. He sat up right against the headboard allowing (Y/N) to rest against his chest, “Bucky, you can go if you want I’ll be fine.” you mumbled a slight pang of guilt filled your chest.

“Doll, I’d rather be here with you. I see them at work everyday- now let me take care of you okay?”

“I love you.”

Bucky pressed a kiss to her forehead, “I love you too.”

The two wandered the women’s section dresses catching (Y/N) eyes as she tugged her boyfriend to follow, he didn’t mind shopping with her all too much because he’d encourage her to get literally everything she laid eyes on. She pushed off buying a dress for the wedding and of course waited till the day before.

“What about this one?”

She picked up the beautiful blue midi dress, perfect for the spring weather. She turned around lifting the dress next to Bucky’s cheeks, he raised his brow in confusion “Hm, I’m getting this one- reminds me of your beautiful eyes.” tugging his hands once again she looked for one more dress, Bucky’s cheeks were tinted a bright red.

(Y/N) loved seeing him flustered and left well speechless, “Doll you’re such a tease sometimes.” she stopped in her tracks turning around on her standing on her toes to press a kiss to his cheek.

“And you love it.”

She was rushing yet again to get ready due to Bucky not wanting her to leave mumbling five more minutes which turned into thirty. When they were in the shower Bucky wouldn’t let her leave, holding the two under the running water ignoring her protest before the sound of her mother knocking on the bathroom door caused them to get out.

“(Y/N)! Where’s James! Oh there he is-” Bucky sat on the bathroom counter top giving her mother a warm smile “(Y/N/N) hurry it up! We need to beat traffic, we need to be there first!”

Bucky chuckled, “It’s also like this in New York, we’re always the last to arrive any gathering.” she glared at her boyfriend playfully setting her curler down to slap his thigh.

“Five minutes!” her mother turned on her heels exiting her daughter’s old bedroom, she stuck her tongue out at her boyfriend “You were suppose to disagree.” he grabbed your forearm tugging you between his legs, “Not when it’s true.” she stuck her tongue out again trying to move away from his legs. Placing both hands on her cheeks he squished it lightly pressing a kiss to the tip of her nose.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” he moved his hands to her waist capturing her lips, she placed her hand on his chest pushing back slightly to break the kiss. She waved her pointer finger from side to side, “Hm, now we both know you’re the reason why we’re always late.” He smirked lightly hoping on the counter slapping her ass with his metal arm playfully, watching as her mouth fell into an “O”.

“C’mon (Y/N/N) we don’t wanna be late.”

On their way to the ceremony (Y/N) and Bucky took the backseat while her mother and father took the front, every so often her mother would look into the review mirror noticing the two were fast asleep. Bucky had reclined the seat a little to allow her to rest her head on his chest, their entwined hands resting on his lap.

She smiled remembering the first time (Y/N) had called and told her about Bucky at first everything she said she thought it was too good to be true. Yet when she finally met him last Christmas, she saw how good he was to her and how much he loved her.

Bucky felt too nervous not wanting to leave your side even though your family welcomed him with open arms- many open arms to the point where you had to pull him away from your aunt Irene.

“I-Okay Aunt Irene, what about me where’s my hug?” you freed Bucky from the hug, awkwardly hugging your aunt who instead wanted to hug your boyfriend “Oh he’s a keeper (Y/N/N), look at that hunk of meat.” you chuckled awkwardly pulling away from the hug to stand next to your “hunk of meat” again.

Bucky slowly began to mingle, talking to your cousins, uncles, your brother and father, and even attempted to play with your niece and nephew. But from time to time he’d go back to your side holding your hand or wrapping his arms around your waist.

That’s when she saw it, usually most of (Y/N)’s cousins husbands/boyfriends would rather talk with the other men about sports and wouldn’t check up on their wives/girlfriends yet- here was Bucky coming back to your side any chance he got.

“Hey sleepyhead, we’re here.”

Your hand reached up to rub your eyes, Bucky caught it before you could ruin your mascara “Your makeup.” he mumbled causing you to blink a few times adjusting to the bright light shining through the window. Bucky opened the car door stepping out first then helping you out allowing you to stretch your muscles.

He lifted his hand to your hair fixing the pieces that looked out of place smoothing it down slightly, it’s the little things like this that made her think you’re for sure gonna marry this man.

“As beautiful as ever.”

(Y/N) smiled tugging at his tie to meet her halfway placing a sweet kiss on his lips, “Thank you, and I must say you look quite handsome as always. I should get you to wear more suits.” intwining your left hand with his right you two walked onto the beach seating next to your parents in the front row on the grooms side.

“Uncle Bucky!”  

The four year old jumped onto Bucky’s lap, “Hey there’s the little princess!” (Y/N) smiled leaning her head onto Bucky’s shoulder, “No hi for your favorite aunt?” the four year old grinned from ear to ear “Hi Aunty (Y/N/N), do you like my dress?” her tiny fingers tugged at the hem of the dress almost the same colors as yours.

“Oh it’s lovely Arya, I must say we have the same taste.” she watched her niece nod moving her attention to play with Bucky, the two whispering and giggling. “He’s gonna be a great dad someday.” your mother whispered loud enough only for you two to hear.

The first time Arya had met Bucky she didn’t want to let you leave with him claiming that Bucky was now her boyfriend, it always made (Y/N) smile anytime Bucky interacted with her niece and nephew. 

Your older brother and his family had recently visited you two last month, an Arya had already planned on spending the day with her Uncle Bucky saying that they had a date but (Y/N) was welcome to join the two. You always knew that Bucky would be a great dad, but that day confirmed you were willing to have a whole football team. 

“Yeah, he’s gonna be the best.”

Arya hopped off his lap moving to go meet her mother so she could toss the flowers down the aisle.

Entwining her left hand with his right she gave it a little squeeze, Bucky lifted their hands kissing the back of her hand “Something wrong?” (Y/N) shook her head placing their hands onto her lap. 

“No-” she brushed her thumb against the back of his hand “I love you.” Bucky leaned forward kissing his beautiful girlfriend.

“I love you too.”

Moments like this.

After the ceremony came the reception, your feet were killing you in these heels Natasha and Wanda basically pressured you into purchasing. You were eager to sit after standing for many photos, you sighed in relief wanting to undo the straps and go barefoot for the rest of the night.

Bucky too his seat next to you moving his chair a few inches away from you, “Why are you so f-” he lifted both your legs placing your feet onto his lap unstrapping the buckle of your heels before slipping it off.

Slumping against the door she let out a loud sigh, dropping her bag and kicking her heels off. It was another long day at work an all she wanted was to be in the arms of her boyfriend. “Hey doll! In the kitchen!” she padded over to the kitchen smiling at the sight in front of her, she sat on one of their bar stools.

“Hm- I can get use to this.” 

Bucky turned around pointing his index finger at the apron, “Kiss the cook.” you snickered you had gotten that for him as a joke at first after he had complained about the oil splashing and staining his shirts.

“My feet are in too much pain to walk.”

He walked over seating in the free seat next to you grabbing your legs to place onto his thighs, you leaned forward kissing his plump pink lips the taste of red wine lingered on his lips causing you to hum. A low groan left your lips the moment he began to massage your feet.

“Oh I love you so much I hope you know that.” he gave her a cheeky smile both his hands massaging your slightly swollen ankles, no more heels for a long while.

Before dinner was served Bucky excused himself to the bathroom, that was nearly fifteen minutes ago. Excusing herself she wandered the halls searching for her boyfriend, “Aunty (Y/N/N)! Can you help me? I think I dropped Shanna!” Shanna was the name of her plush doll Bucky had given her before she had gone back to California, your brother would send pictures of Arya with the doll. She brought it everywhere. 

The sun was beginning to set which would make it quite easy to find her doll, the four year old dragged her aunt towards the exit ushering her to pick up the pace. 

“Arya- bub can we slow down? Let me remo-” 

“I got it!” she waved the plush in the air, dusting the sand off before giving it a big hug. (Y/N) sighed, “That was easier than I thought.” Arya skipped towards her aunt stopping right in front of her “Last one back is a rotten egg.” turning on her heels she nearly ran into Bucky.

“Hi.” 

The golden sun kissed his skin, he truly looked like a god standing there. (Y/N) walked towards him wrapping her arms around his neck, “I’ve been looking for you.” A cool sea breeze kissed their skin, she fluttered her eyes shut enjoying the moment “We need to visit more often.” she looked up at Bucky resting her chin against his chest. They stood there for a few more minutes savoring the moment, the only sound of the waves washing ashore echoing through the quiet beach.

“C’mon lets head in.” 

She pulled away from Bucky tilting her head to the side noticing her family was standing at the entrance, “Oh- they must be wai-” her eyes widened as she watched her boyfriend get down on knee. 

“(Y/N) (Y/L/N), it has been an amazing four years knowing you. You’re not only my girlfriend but my best friend. I can’t believe it took me nearly three years to ask you out, three years! I owe thanks to Sam everyday for introducing me to you, don’t let him know I said that-”

(Y/N) giggled ignoring the tears staining her cheeks, she could care less if her makeup was running.

“I’ve been planning this for the last four months, I want to thank your parents for giving me their blessing to do this. Four months into our relationship, I knew I was going to ask you to marry me one day and well now here we are. Also- your brother doesn’t mind that we’re kinda stealing his spotlight.”

“There better be an open bar at the wedding!” your brother shouted lifting his glass of champagne.

“I want to spend the rest of my life with you creating beautiful unforgettable memories. With that being said-”

Arya rushed over holding out a red velvet box, “Will you-” before he could even open the box she tackled him into a hug. “Yes! A million times left!” she cupped his cheeks kissing her fiancé. He pulled away briefly opening the box to reveal a beautiful emerald cut ring, slipping it onto her ring finger.

“I love you.” 

She kissed him once more pressing her forehead against his.

“I love you too.”

[itach-i]

“We’ll See” (Manorian)

_____________________________________________________________ After the war at Orynth, Manon Blackbeak and Dorian Havilliard decided that rebuilding their kingdoms would be the best course of action, leaving whatever they felt for each other up in the air. What happens when they finally make time to see each other again?(Link on ff.net) ________________________________________________________________

Spring - Chapter 1 (you are here)

Broken Glass - Chapter 2 ________________________________________________________________

Spring - Chapter 1

Manon

"Can't sleep either?"

Manon did not turn to the voice even when the witch slowly walked into Abraxos' temporary pen towards the edge of the growing city. It was small and apart from the other makeshift pens, if only because it meant it was closer to Manon's own royal tent.

"Bandits were spotted by the sentinels," Manon responded dryly as she continued to check Abraxos' harness.

Petrah entered her field of vision, but the Blueblood did not make a move to help with the prepping. "Those have never been an issue before."

Manon let out a quiet breath, annoyed at the talking, at the fact that she had to continuously make excuses as to why she needed to be away. Difficult, especially when you were a new queen in a new kingdom.

"And they won't be," the Witch-Queen answered, "once I deal with them."

She was aware there was no bite to the comment, no underlying tone giving away the fact that she was going out to potentially kill because she felt pleasure in it. Recently, there had been no emotion to the way she did things at all. Those few months where she had experienced things like joy and allowing herself to care seemed far away.

"You need any help?"

Manon knew Petrah was only doing her job, that she was tasked with protecting her new queen, especially in times as daunting as these. It still made Manon frown. "I'll be back before sunrise," she told her as she finished with Abraxos, "don't tell anyone."

An order there, and one the freckled witch didn't like. "You have to sleep at some point, Manon." And there it was, Manon thought, the one thing she always saw in others, especially when they spoke to her.

Pity.

She didn't want their pity.

"Wait here if you want," she offered Petrah, and Abraxos was airborne before the other witch could object.

The second they were in the air Manon closed her eyes, if only because it was here where she truly had some peace. Abraxos knew the nightly routine well, flying high enough that the scouts couldn't spot them, but not to the point where the beautiful valleys and hills of the Wastes couldn't be seen.

The moon provided enough illumination that night to reveal the large tent city, located just a couple of miles off the ruins of the original Witch Kingdom's capital. The decision to build in a new location had been a joint one. The Witch War had started due to perceived discrimination toward the three Ironteeth clans, and it had also been the very place thousands of witches had met their end. Manon had wanted to keep it as it was, to serve both as a memorial and a reminder to her people that this is what awaited them if they fell on old stereotypes and preconceptions. Surprisingly, most everyone in her budding council had approved. And although Manon had trouble concentrating on occasions, she was very lucid when she insisted the clans mix in and new covens form between both Ironteeth and Crochan witches. The last thing they needed was another war, even if it only started out as a skirmish.

As Abraxos banked and his flight steadied, Manon finally opened her eyes, taking in the cloudless dark sky, the seemingly endless valleys, the rivers that coiled and stretched between the hills. It was beautiful, that much was true, a paradise especially at the tail end of winter. The land would be arable in the coming weeks, the elders ensured, and the amount of game and wood was plenty, enough that a good portion of it was used for trade in things like grain and other supplies. The witches were fierce and used to extreme conditions, this first winter had been no trouble for them to face. Manon would even say it was comfortable.

As if in answer, a vagrant chill wind made her unbound hair lift up and she took in the cold and breathed in deep, savoring the scent of her home, a scent that reminded her of a certain King who was most likely busy with the rebuilding of his own kingdom.

Wanting to distract herself, she gazed at the stars, so bright and numerous in this land. Glennis herself had taken her out on a cloudless night similar to this one and spoke of things like galaxies and planets, moons and comets, gas clouds and dark holes. The witches had been avid astronomers long ago and although mostly destroyed, there were still some books and odd trinkets around related to the subject.

A library was already being amassed in one of the larger stone buildings being built in the center of the new city and within it was a contraption Manon still loosely understood. Witch mirrors were originally fashioned to be part of certain mechanical contraptions, and one such large contraption was already being worked on. A telescope, Glennis called it, an object not of destruction, but of exploration and study. Wanting to know more about it at that moment the witch looked back, wanting to signal her witches and have Ghislaine move next to her-

The pain hit her harder than the late winter wind at this altitude, and Manon didn't fight it as she watched the empty sky behind her, the size of it making her feel as though she had no kingdom, no home, no hope.

...

Morning arrived in an ocean of color that had Manon standing still outside Abraxos' pen for a couple of seconds, taking in the reds, oranges, and even pink and magenta that reflected on every surface and made even the dirt path that led into different parts of the city look mystical.

"My Queen."

The mentioned one turned to find Brownen mid-bow, the Ironteeth-style leathers suiting the witch and also sending a message. If Manon's guard and council could find common ground and prosper, then so could every other coven, even if it started with only a change of clothes.

Manon turned east, in the general direction of the farmlands currently being prepped for that long-awaited spring. Large barns made of dark oak cherry and ebony wood were in the process of being finished, one of which was were this particular meeting would take place. As of now, any buildings, farmland, and businesses being run were exclusively voluntary, Manon's council having not much control other than where they could set up what building. It hadn't given the queen any trouble and there hadn't been any need of extra workers yet, but it was better to be prepared for any scenario lest the volunteers slowed and workers were needed, which was why Manon wanted to start an official contract service, where workers would be paid for the work they provided and incentivized to continue working under the crown.

"Manon?"

The Witch Queen gave Brownen a look that made the Crochan narrow her dark brown eyes. But when Manon still didn't answer, the witch only repeated what she must've asked before.

"Are you ready to go?"

With a nod, Manon took off, a part of her glad that it was still too early for most of the population to be out. She supposed there was a certain satisfaction in being queen and seeing her people prosper, but Manon had no energy to greet and listen to anyone she came across that day. Not a month prior she had only stared when a new mother had presented her witchling to her, asking if she could hold her. Glennis had taken over easily, convincing the mother that a touch would be more than enough to bless the witchling.

Even thinking about the memory made Manon cringe. To think that some witches would see her as something to be venerated while others questioned why she wore the crown and not a noose around her neck was overwhelming. It made her tired, especially when no one seemed to understand just how difficult it was to make decisions that would always find opposition. Even the council of elders that Manon relied on had a particularly old Crochan witch that would demean Manon every chance she got, questioning her loyalty and moral compass. Removing her would take nothing but a word from the queen, the message it would send, however, could potentially snowball into a whole rebellion, so the witch remained.

They arrived at the empty barn far sooner than Manon thought and she went through the freshly painted door frame expecting the usual cluster of witches waiting for her. She paused in her step and turned sidelong to Brownen. "The meeting was here, right?"

The Crochan only nodded before she turned away from Manon and closed the door behind her, cutting off the beautiful sunlight and making the queen question what in the world was going on.

"Let's sit over there," Brownen offered tightly, pointing to some wooden crates being used to store dry leather that would then be used for trading. Their breaths were visible as Manon followed her sentinel, too exhausted to even question her.

Once they sat, the queen watched as the other witch prepared a small campfire in the area already set aside for the very thing in the center of the building. Manon barely registered the warmth as Brownen spoke. "You should take a couple of days off."

Silence followed as Manon kept her eyes on the fire, so similar to that of the Terrasen Queen's. "It's been almost four months," Brownen continued, undaunted, "you've worked from dawn to dusk every day since then. I think you deserve some time off. Our people would understand."

Not that old crone Jesibel, Manon thought.

"There is still a lot more to be done-" she began, but was cut off by a familiar voice.

"The kingdom can make do without their Queen for a couple of days, granddaughter."

Glennis walked toward them, a picnic basket in hand, with Petrah at her side watching the old witch's gait closely. Manon was starting to understand the picture. With more anger than she intended she said, "so this is what? An intervention? Was there even a meeting with the council?"

None of them answered her and as Glennis approached, Manon just crossed her arms. Carefully, Glennis placed the basket down close to the fire and then she straightened and held out her hand. "I have a letter for you."

Manon blinked as she extended her hand and took it, wondering what new border issue Ansel had-

The shock at seeing the sigil on the letter couldn't be hidden and Manon's heartbeat stupidly picked up. "This letter…" she began.

"It's from the King of Adarlan," Glennis clarified, as if Manon wasn't well acquainted with the golden emblem of a wyvern in mid-flight.

Dorian hadn't written to her before, not that she had expected him to. Border issues were minor and taken care of by lesser ranked officials and from what she knew, the plans to begin training an aerial legion with the rukhin were on hold until the wyvern eggs hatched…unless that's exactly what happened. Had it really been long enough for them to hatch? Orynth felt like yesterday.

"Well?" Petrah asked, a small smile on her pretty face, "aren't you going to open it?"

Even if what was on the letter ended up being completely formal, Manon had a lot of reasons as to why she didn't want to read what was on it. Even if it would have been four months within the next few days, things were too fresh right now, too raw to bother with the what ifs of communicating with Dorian, even if it was through a letter. Things between them had been…odd to say the least and Manon couldn't stop thinking of what that healer from the Torre had said to them, of what Dorian had asked of her and what she knew they both hinted at. At the time, it had seemed easy enough, to rebuild and make her Kingdom prosper, to then help Adarlan with the rukhin.

But now it felt like a weight. Not the emotions she was still learning to feel and identify, but more what could happen if they met again, what could be required of her. Manon wasn't sure if she was ready, perhaps she would never be ready.

One thing was for sure.

She didn't want to open the letter, she didn't want to be the queen of this kingdom, and she didn't want to be pressured by those who thought they knew what she needed.

So, she only shook her head, placed the letter down on the crate she had been leaning on, and left.

...

It didn't take long for her great grandmother to find her, not that Manon was hiding. She had gone to get Abraxos but had found him sleeping next to the fresh bed of flowers that were blooming due to a spell gifted by one of the Fae currently living among the Witches and because the warmth of spring was fast approaching. Manon hadn't questioned when a good number of them had decided to follow the witches to the Wastes, so horrified and hurt by Maeve's actions and identity that they couldn't go back to Doranelle or Wendlyn at all.

Abraxos had been her one comfort in all this, the one thing that felt real despite her love for the Wastes. But she would not wake him when he barely slept, when she took him out at odd hours just so she could try to clear her head. So Manon had gone back to her tent, ordinary and plain, the only thing that marked it as hers was the constant presence of guards, hand-picked by both Petrah and Brownen and later accepted or rejected by Manon.

The Witch-Queen's tent wasn't large, but it easily accommodated a basic cot with blankets gifted to her by a Crochan weaver, a small furnace that doubled as a cooking oven and that kept the inside of the tent warm, a basic wooden table with two chairs, and a small bookshelf next to a makeshift desk made out of the same crates found in the new barn. Nothing personal hung about, no artwork or trinkets. Manon never felt like this was where she belonged anyway.

"What is in that basket?" Manon asked as Glennis closed the flap to the tent before stepping forward.

The witch only smiled as she walked toward the table and with no care of the papers and maps on it, planted her basket there. For a second, Manon swore it moved. "I need you to humor me," the witch said, making Manon raise an eyebrow.

"Humor you?"

"Yes," Glennis answered, and again that blasted letter showed its nerve-wracking face. "I need you to read this letter."

Annoyed, but knowing that her great-grandmother could potentially wait and stare at her to death, Manon took it from her and broke the seal with an iron nail. She paused for a moment, swallowing, before she slowly unfolded the one-page document. She read it quickly, barely able to recognize that the heading at the top read 'Witchling' and that he had signed it as 'Princeling' before inking his actual name in a way that she knew took effort. He had done the entire letter like that, as if he had thought carefully over every word and practiced each stroke of the pen before writing it down.

Glennis sat down in one of the wooden chairs, the one not covered in requests and letters Manon had yet to go over. "Well?"

"He's invited me to go to Anielle, to oversee the new wyvern hatchlings."

"I thought the eggs were in Rifthold," Glennis commented, as if they were talking about the weather and not someone who constantly came up in Manon's thoughts.

"Anielle is closer to the Ferian Gap," Manon answered.

"So he wants the legion to be stationed in the Northern Fang? Smart."

As Manon merely re-folded the letter and placed it back into the envelope, her great-grandmother observed her closely. "Well?"

Manon's gold eyes flashed. "Well' what?"

"When should I tell the council that you're going?"

The look the Witch-Queen gave her great-grandmother was merely received with a knowing smile. Suddenly feeling very tired, Manon went toward her cot and sat, the letter delicately held between her fingers. "I don't know if I can do it," she whispered.

Glennis' expression changed then, her voice softer. "I know that despite how well things have been going for our new kingdom, there has been a lot of difficulties. I also know that even if Petrah, Brownen, and I have offered, you have chosen to keep your thoughts and feelings to yourself, which we respect." A pause as Manon looked away. Glennis still continued, "I'm not saying you should talk to Dorian or even open up to him specifically, but the change of scenery and a break from all this paperwork may do you some good."

Manon was almost convinced, but a thought kept going back. "I don't know if he wants…more." Those days before they parted, even when they hadn't been sexual, they had spent them together. Despite her almost constant silence, Dorian had consistently showed up to her morning rides with Abraxos, had invited her to have lunch or dinner with her, and on that last night…

Before the blush overtook her, Manon cleared her throat. And it was unusual for her to feel anything other than a pulling emptiness that threatened to drown her if she wasn't moving and busy. Perhaps she really did need this 'change of scenery.' The indecision gnawed at her as Glennis nodded to herself a few times.

"I know you haven't made a final decision," the old witch said, "but if you were to go to Adarlan, when would that be?"

Manon remembered the letter, the way he signed his name and said, "three weeks."

Glennis patted the basket. "Well, I have one more thing to give you. A gift."

Curiously, Manon walked toward where her great-grandmother motioned and watched as the old woman lifted one of the basket flaps. The Witch-Queen's eyebrows drew together as she looked from Glennis back to what was nestled within the basket.

"A…cat?"

The Crochan's smile was lovely. "Yes, for you-and Abraxos," she added with a chuckle. "Her mother was found frozen to death yesterday near the supplies for the library. When the Blueblood that found her went to take her, she found this little one nestled underneath the corpse. Cold and starving," she muttered then, "but alive."

"And you brought her…here…?"

Manon knew nothing of caring for animals, especially not ones that were still dependent on an adult and not a large coddled, scarred, flower-loving wyvern. Glennis seemed unconcerned with that fact and caringly awoke the kitten, whose fur was almost the exact same color as Manon's own hair and whose eyes were a sky blue in color that reminded Manon of Dorian's own sapphire ones.

"Wait," Manon protested, as Glennis placed the tiny creature in her stiff arms. "I never said I wanted a cat." The thing mewled as if cold and Manon instinctively brought it close, where it snuggled and meowed like it wanted to let everyone know it was right where it wanted to be.

As if her work was done, Glennis left the basket where it was and stood up. "You need to feed her every three to four hours as she is still very young. One of our healers is specialized in animals and she prepared a formula you only have to mix with warm water to give her. She should be weaned off it by this time next week." She lifted the entire top off the basket, revealing a myriad of things Manon was not familiar with. "The formula is in this container right here and the instructions are written on this paper. There are also instructions for how to have her go to the bathroom and medicine if she starts showing certain symptoms for different ailments that are common for young kittens."

Overwhelmed and shocked, the Witch-Queen couldn't think. But when Glennis made a move to leave the tent, Manon rushed toward her. "I-I don't know if-"

"It's only a kitten, Manon. She's alone in this world." Glennis softly stroked the cat's tiny head and the thing purred deeply before snuggling further into Manon's chest. "If you really don't want her, give her to Brownen tomorrow and she'll take her back to the healer. But do this favor for me today."

The sincerity in her voice made Manon hesitate and her great-grandmother used that moment to open the flap to the tent and step out into the already warming day. Manon told herself she would take care of the kitten until the next morning, if only because she didn't want to disappoint Glennis. But the second the sun came up; she would give the creature back.

Despite a total of four accidents, two blanket changes, a moment where Manon thought the kitten was choking and it turned out to be nothing but it trying to hiss, Abraxos huffing into the kitten's face and scaring it half to death, and the fact that when she placed the kitten on the basket to sleep for the night it had somehow managed to get up into the cot with her, Manon still did not give the little runt to Brownen the next morning or the one after that.

...

Dorian

Dorian was in a mood this morning, and even though his magic had a bottom now the temperature was still slowly dropping within the provisional court room. Two local lords had been arguing for the past week about a petty border dispute citing that neither of them was responsible for the repairing of the bridge that joined their two territories because it was in the other's land.

Rubbing his temples, Dorian faced the two balding men with a wan smile. "Again, gentlemen, we know the cost is high, but this bridge is important for both of your territories and for trade within Adarlan. Can we not just split the cost? I'll pay a third of it myself from my personal coffers if we just end this now."

It took them a moment to process what their king had said and although so red he could pass for a tomato, the more opulent of the two seemed to have found reason. "I suppose paying only a third would be beneficial in the long run."

"Yes, quite," the other one muttered as Dorian tried not to look to visibly relieved. Before they changed their minds the King of Adarlan was already drawing up papers, making sure each Lord signed their names in ink as soon as possible.

In the process of doing this the creaky wooden door to the stone building that was serving as his court opened and the king sent a look that could split someone in half to his royal page. The boy faced his glare calmly and even cleared his throat. Dorian cut him off. "I thought I gave orders to not interrupt any meetings I have while in court." Not because Dorian didn't want to listen to any issues or problems that could arise while he was busy, but because if he didn't, he'd be interrupted every five minutes.

The boy bowed low as he spoke. "Sire, you specifically told me that you "should not be interrupted at any point during a court procession barring a missive arrives from the Witch Kingdom."

Dorian's heart picked up just as the temperature in the room became warmer. "The queen sent a letter?"

The two bickering lords forgotten, Dorian quickly stood from his wooden chair and made his way to the boy who smiled as if he knew a secret and handed him a simple envelope embossed with a sigil he had never seen before. Three white stars on a black background served as the seal and he distractedly wondered who chose the design. Without looking at the two lords he called for them to finish and be dismissed.

The second Dorian was alone, he breathed out a couple of times to still his heart. It had only been three days since he sent his letter by hawk, could this be a response to that or some other correspondence altogether? Not thinking it over for much longer, he carefully broke the seal and took out a simple piece of paper, unfolding it before beginning to read.

Hello Princeling,

I would like to formally accept your invitation to oversee the wyvern hatchlings with the ruhkin at Anielle in three weeks' time as of the sending of this letter.

Manon

The smile on his face remained well into the day, and when dinner came, a heavily pregnant Yrene noticed the expression and as it was in her nature, remarked on it. "You seem pleased, Dorian."

He didn't bother hiding it, not when Yrene and him had shared conversations on matters relating to and directly mentioning the Wastes' new Witch-Queen and Dorian's potential feelings for her. "She wrote back. Manon accepted the invitation to Anielle."

Although Chaol frowned, Yrene positively beamed. "That's perfect! When? Did she agree to the date you set?"

"Yes, so the plan is still to leave after spring melts the last bits of snow off the road."

As they ate, Chaol seemed to wait for the perfect moment to intervene. "Don't expect her to be the same, Dorian. You had barely enough time to even get to know her."

Used to Chaol's comments, but not feeling particularly understanding of them, the king gave his Hand a look before sarcastically replying. "This trip is more than just trying to woo a witch, Chaol." If anything, this trip was also for strengthening the alliances between their kingdoms, to establish better borders, and to mitigate any sort of issues that could arise if conflict of the violent kind were to happen.

Adarlan had been very broken the day Dorian came back, and it had been an uphill battle since then. Managing supplies, rebuilding important trading routes, removing those that profited from the war from power and establishing a system where the common man could communicate with their king without it overrunning the entire court. The past couple of months had been a time where Dorian had barely enough time to sleep, but they had been good and as of now, it was time to see beyond the borders and think of new ways his people could prosper.

Of course, he had thought of Manon, sometimes multiple times a day, and although he only had secondhand information on how the new Witch Kingdom was doing, the news had always been positive. And it appeared as though Manon was well liked, even revered in some cases, within her kingdom and even beyond.

"Well," Yrene commented, as she stroked her large belly, "I'm sure regardless of what might occur between you two, it will be nice to see her."

Dorian nodded, a shy smile taking over. Yes, it would certainly be nice.

________________________________________________________________

Oh, hey, I’m back? 

I guess we’ll see.

Tagging @rufousnmacska because she’s my beta and I love her. Anyone else want tags send me a message or comment on this post.

My other Manorian fanfics from like a million years ago --------> Click Here

[orphidian]

𝙼𝙴𝚃𝙰 𝟶𝟹: 𝙽𝙰𝙼𝚀𝙸.

@solhunt​ said: what does namqi mean to orin and what influence did he have on her life? @mercysought​ said: tell us how namqi and orin started their relationship and how was it for her to feel for the first time that she didn't want to leave 

Their story is incredibly straight forward, and so is their love. Orin and Namqi meet not long after she arrived in the Last Safe City and left the Pilgrim Guard. He is Awoken, like her, which is a rare enough sight. Even rarer still, he wasn’t a Risen, but an Awoken of the Reef, a rather mysterious lot that keep to themselves, sharing their knowledge on weapons and medicine and agriculture with humanity but never revealing their home to those on Earth. Many people at this time would choose to avoid the Awoken whether they were Earthborn and Reefborn, so Namqi is surprised when Orin approaches him. She has an endless amount of questions for him, questions concerning their people, their home, and more. Over the course of two months—during which they repair his damaged Hildian together—she manages to convince him to bring her to the Reef, to break the queenslaw. Their initial connection is that strong. 

“Most of all, Orin is struck by his ability to listen with empathy. He is quiet more often than not. Long silences don't frighten him. And when he speaks, he does it deftly, without condescension.” — Queenslaw, Ecdysis

This is a direct comparison to the way Orin’s own speech is described earlier in the Ecdysis book, and explains why she finds herself so drawn to Namqi in the first place. She has finally found a mirror for her own empathy, someone who can point all of her own warmth back at her in full, someone she feels utterly comfortable opening up to. For Orin—who is intensely aware of how powerful words can be and how careless people can be in wielding them—this is incredible, and the feeling is mutual considering his willingness to go against Mara Sov’s laws by smuggling an Earthborn Awoken into the Reef. 

They’re caught almost instantly. Sjur Eido recognizes her old friend in Nasan in Orin, as does the Queen, who tells Orin her version of the rather tragic history of the Awoken. Namqi is given five years indentured service, wherein he gets to pick his service and negotiate his salary. Orin’s punishment is less severe, as she is not who she once was and so cannot be held accountable for her past oaths to the Queen. Instead, Mara demands a future debt of her choosing, of which Orin accepts. She is the first Guardian Mara ever trusts. 

Orin returns to Earth and keeps in daily contact with Namqi, begging him to come get her when he is finally released so that they can explore and figure out what humanity was trying to achieve before the Collapse and the Dark Ages. 

“They scour the inner planets in his Hildian. When parts of it break down, they work odd jobs.

They are deliriously happy.

Centuries pass.”   — Debt, Ecdysis

Realizing that she never wants to leave Namqi isn’t a sudden revelation. It simply never occurs to her that she should leave, and that feeling of claustrophobia never comes. She doesn’t feel that terrifying restlessness she’s felt before—partly because they spend most of their time exploring but mostly because she feels complete with Namqi in a way she hasn’t experienced before. Their love matures, deepens, expands. They invite others to join them, in their travels and their love. They ground each other, and never spend more than a few months apart.

Eventually Mara cashes in on the debt that Orin owes her, asking Orin to search for her lover Sjur Eido’s murderer. Her search leads her to an encounter with Xûr, and the beginning of her transformation into the Emissary. 

“Orin begins to experience waking hallucinations. Immaterial strangers speak to her in unrecognizable languages. When she reaches for Namqi, she feels as if she is falling into him, being pulled through him, sieved into smaller and smaller scarves of some atom-self that he breathes into the blood of his bones.” — Synesthesia, Ecdysis 

When Orin tries to explain what she’s experiencing to Namqi ( and Mara and Gol ) he gives her—to her ears—empty reassurances, and tries to convince her to stop searching for the Nine. Orin does not listen, and goes on without Namqi in her search. 

At this point in their relationship it’s not unusual for them to split off from each other. Orin is a part of the Firebreak Order, and so has duties concerning the City and the defense of its people by pushing into enemy territory. Namqi is still an Awoken of the Reef, and so has his own duties to the Queen and his people. They often go weeks or even months without seeing each other, sometimes without contact when in parts of the system that don’t permit communication. 

This time when they split though, Namqi doesn’t return. 

“On the day that Namqi dies, no one can reach her or Gol, though they do try.

She does not find out for months.” — Synesthesia, Ecdysis 

Namqi dies in what is assumed to be an aphelion attack on the RSS Armestris. The recovered transcriptions say they thought the hull was breached, and describe a “glowing creature” and something called “the stalking core” attacking the crew. The ship—examined by drones because of the high levels of radiation on the surface—shows no sign of a hull breach, no evidence of shots fired, no signs of alien or internal interference. And no survivors. 

When Orin eventually visits the Reef again, she is told of Namqi’s death, and taken to a room where she can listen to Namqi’s last recorded words. 

“On the day she meets Wu Ming, she is on Bamberga. She has just left a Gensym lab. She has just read a transcript of Namqi's last words. Her hands are shaking. She feels nauseous. She feels she can see herself in third-person, tottering to a safe place to sit and cry.” — Synesthesia, Ecdysis

“T-4: ORIN, IT'S ME, IT'S NAMQI. I DON'T THINK I'M COMING HOME, BABY. I'M SO SORRY. I'M, I'M, I JUST WANT TO TELL YOU THAT I LOVE [STATIC FOLLOWS]” — Bamberga, The Dreaming City

At this point the Nine are still very much “haunting” her, and between her grief and slow descent into madness, Orin finds comfort in a man named Wu Ming. She doesn’t recognize him anymore, doesn’t recognize the man she knew and loved hundreds of years ago when she was still with the Pilgrim Guard as Eli. He chooses to lean into that, at first it seems to get information about the Nine from her. It quickly evolves into something deeper, something consuming. Something ultimately built on a lie. 

And eventually Wu Ming can’t keep lying to Orin and tells her the truth: that he knows her, that they once knew each other, that he pretended to know Namqi, that he pretended not to know her. 

The Nine use Wu Ming’s revelation to their advantage, driving her away from him and into their grasp by exacerbating her own feelings of betrayal. Maybe even as a bargain, the Nine revealed a path to save Namqi, but that’s purely speculation.  

And while Orin succumbs to the transformation, she does not forget Namqi. In her most lucid states when she is the most herself, when she speaks and debates and argues with the Nine, she is thinking of Namqi. Even speaks as if he is listening.

“SAFE HARBOR IS VERY FAR AWAY

'Dogma. I'm sick of your dogma. I'll be just a little longer, Namqi.'” — Emissary, The Awoken of the Reef

This is mostly a method of coping. Orin has always existed as a liminal sort of being but as the Emissary she is even more so, to the point of beginning to lose sight of her own humanity. This is the inevitable outcome when who you are as a person has been pared down to the bone and taken over by beings incapable of understanding humanity. Namqi is the essence of love and empathy in her life. Speaking to him as if he were there with her helps ground her within the cold strangeness of Nine space, helps ground her within herself. 

“I’ll be just a little longer,” she says, and part of her believes that if he is dead then perhaps she will die soon too when the Nine are done with her, and go wherever he has gone. More likely—as Orin is not overtly spiritual and does not necessarily believe in an afterlife—she thinks she can save him. 

Whether this means the Nine were responsible for his death and merely made it seem otherwise and Orin knows this, or they have given Orin more knowledge about the aphelion and what might have become of Namqi and the rest of the crew of the Armestris is hard to say, though the latter seems more likely. In any case, she believes firmly that she will see him again. Whether dead or alive—for either of them—she can’t say. 

Namqi is everything to Orin. He is the first person in her many lives that she lets love her in return, fully. She’s always been open with giving her own love, but it’s always been partly used as a sort of defense mechanism. If she loves harder, when it inevitably fails, when she inevitably grows restless and leaves, it will hurt them less if she doesn’t let them love her as much as she loves them. 

But Namqi is the first instance of Orin opening herself to the terrifying notion of being completely known and fully loved. The first time she never worries about being made into something she’s not, something bigger than herself. The first time she doesn’t feel shackled by some nameless weight. He knows her, better than she knows herself. And she knows him the same way. 

Even in death he’s one of the only reasons she remains human. 

[felassanis]

More Sifa headcanons:

1. Their accents vary, seeing as the Sifa are consistent of different Clans they have no set acent. However, the ‘original Sifa’, best known for their red, curly hair tend to have thick accents that would sound like a mix of Welsh and Scottish to us.

2. Right, Sifa are proper stoners. Not all of them, but most. It’s something that passes the time on long voyages and they offer many safe herbs and plants that allow Gelfling to feel some form of euphoria. It’s frowned upon by other Clans, but the Sifa don’t care. Particularly experienced Sifans like Elders can visit the dreamspace sometimes and just like Lucid dreaming can control certain elements. Like, conjure feasts that could rival the SkekSis’s or conjure a dead lover and so forth. It’s rare, so very rare but it has been known to happen.

3. Have some of the most colourful curse words and this especially pleases me because Elder Cadia says ‘Bugger’ which alludes that canonically they curse like the British. I also feel like the Sifa are a lot more relaxed with their language and don’t put much stock in sounding literate. A Childling could swear and it would probably just make them laugh.

4. I can image the Sifa hosting their own holidays on the ships. So, maybe six ships might get together in the middle of the ocean, close enough that they can hoist planks across them; allowing the Sifa to cross over on mutiple ships to which all crews will get together. They’ll decorate the masts with lanters and banners, they’ll set up hundreds of tables and chairs and as soon as the band starts playing music it’ll be three days of partying, laughing, dancing and so on before the ships part ways again.

5. These holidays could probably be just a celebration of Clans coming together, celebrating culture in order to remind the Sifa that they are lot of cultures all intertwined together to form one. It could be a celebration for the sea, a kind of festival that thanks the ocean for being calm and carrying them safely, and to wish themselves another trine of more bountiful waters. Or...the Sifa just simultaneously want to get drunk.

6. There are cases where the Sifa can banish Gelfling if they do something wrong. But the crime must be very heinous and detrimental for them to even consider banishing anyone. So it’s very rare this ever happens, it might have happened a couple of times throughout Sifa history. They’re a liberal clan, so pissing them off can be very hard.

7. If this occurs, that Gelfling cannot step one foot on Sifa ships, they are to be avoided by other Sifa and they can never rejoin the Sifa unless they do something extreme to prove their honest character.

8. Most of the time, when somone is banished from the Sifa they usually just return to thier original clan. So, a Sifa who left the Drenchen to sail the seas or who looked Drenchen would just go back to the Great Smerf. However, for an original Sifa, this can be tricky as red hair is greatly tied to this clan so they can’t blend in with the other Gelfling races. Therefore, finding somewhere else to settle can be very hard given that the Clans don’t trust the Sifa and of course, the clans can be racist. 

9. I can imagine absolutely vast expanses of tents whenever the Sifa land. Sometimes they only leave their ship when trading, but as we have seen with Onica and Elder Cadia, Sifa pitch tents and I can imagine a sprawling city of tents in long fields. 

10. Incense, they definitely use incense and it smells amazing.

11. Also those pipes from Lord of the Rings? Sifa use them, they can blow amazing rings with them. They’re exceptionally long and often intricately carved with beautiful designs.

12. So, I don’t actually know how Thra’s society reacts to two Gelfling from different clans falling in love; but I think it’s frowned upon. With the Sifa, they don’t mind it. However, if it’s a Sifa with someone from a different clan, they’re very strict about the other Gelfling becoming Sifan. They see it as losing family otherwise. Moreover, Sifa are kinda of alluring to other Gelfling. They’re mysterious, with an air of adventure and freedom and they don’t conform to rules like most other Gelfling. We all love a bad boy afterall. Despite the horror stories older Gelflings tell about the Sifa, the younger ones who yearn for excitement find the Sifa very attractive. (Especially Vaprans) and so most marriages like this will wind up with the outsider joining the Sifa. There’s a lot of romance novellas about Sifa love interests, just think about those really cheesy romance novels about a fair, noble maiden who gets whisked away by handsome pirates. That is probably why Vaprans are more attracted to Sifa than they care to admit.

13. They’re canonically the most superstious, paranoid little shits in Thra. Stomp on the ship thrice for good luck. the good ol don’t step on the ship with your left foot or risk bad luck. Don’t look outside your window past midnight or a sea creature might gobble you up. Bow your head when you hear of someone’s death otherwise your next. Break a mirror and you’ve got bad fortune for ten trine the whole ordeal.

14. Literally, break and mirror and you can’t be on one of their ships for ten trine DO NOT BREAK MIRRORS.

15. A lot of Gelfling think the Sifa carry disease. This is not true. The Sifa are very capable of curing ailments and preventing them with rituals and potions and cleaning their ships. They may not take a bath as much as they should, but no other Gelfling carries that ocean-filled, beachy smell.

16. I feel like a cool thing, even if impossible, would be that the Sifa have a special ability when it comes to Tattoos. They can echant certain tattoos so that went tracing their fingers over them the tattoos actually move and come to life. Think about photographs in Harry Potter. The tattoos move like Gifs lol so a tattoo of a tree might shake like wind is blowing or they might have a depiction of the ocean where waves rise and fall....

17. Speaking of tattoos, the older Sifa will says you should only ever get one if it means something but those same Sifa as well as younger ones probably have really dumb tattoos like Fizzgigs on their ankles that bark when traced or an ex-lover’s name scratched out about five times.

18. Avid readers. They need something to pass the time! So I feel like a lot of ships have designated libraries which are strictly controlled and kept tidy. Cera-Na has a grand library where Sifa can borrow books lol, but they must return them.

19. Every Sifa is handy with harpoons and spears. It’s why a lot of them go to the Castle of the Crystal because they’re talented fighters with spears. You will not outrun a Sifa if they are carrying a spear...watch out. They have deadly aim.

20. The men are hairy. Very hairy.

21. While they cannot breath underwater like the Drenchen due to not being amphibious, the Sifa can hold their breath for a long ass time. From 1 to 6 hours. This is due to evolution conforming to the Sifa delving underwater a lot in search of shells, gems or treasure.

22. They trace constellations and use the stars to navigate the seas. The main cabin is always fitted with a beautiful map tracing the stars and they all have names.

23. As we have seen. Gelfling can sing to the creatures of Thra; and in Seladon’s case she can beckon them. I see Sifa singing their hearty songs and many sea creatures swimming up the service to listen. They’ll splash and swim along the ship and occasionally allow the Sifa to stroke them. This singing can be handy when in the rare cases a Ship wrecks, and the creatures of the sea with help survivors to land when they hear one sing.

24. When the Darkening occurs, the Sifa mention that portions of the sea light up in this violet hue, with the waves lined in black and seemingly being filled with lightning. As if the waters had swallowed a thunderous cloud and was stuffed with sparks. Sifa avoid this area, as a lot of sea creatures once thought peaceful have randomly attacked ships.

25. While Thra sings in the ocean as well, the Sifa don’t want to forget about the lands of Thra. So, to stay intune with nature they have plants all over their cabins, kind of like gardens spanning across the ship. Just imagine potted plants, strings of ivy winding all over archways and walls, hanging plants next to swinging hammocks so a Sifa can smell their beloved home...

[stevenuniversallyreviews]

Episode 114: Steven’s Dream

“But you don’t deserve that, do you?”

The dream is simple. We fade in to three flowers blowing in the wind. When Steven falls asleep again, we add a broken pink palanquin, and a trill of the signature Diamond music, but that’s it. None of the disorienting mix of the sleeping and waking worlds of Lion 3, none of the nightmares of Chille Tid, none of the lucid mastery of Kiki’s Pizza Delivery Service, just a few calm moments before waking up in tears. But of all the episodes about our slumbering hero, this is the one that’s called Steven’s Dream.

To me, the initial sensation was similar to nearing the end of Order of the Phoenix and, after hearing Voldemort’s view of Dumbledore many times over the course of the series, seeing that the next chapter was called The Only One He Ever Feared. This episode uses our knowledge of the past to set the bar high from the title alone, but unlike the Harry Potter chapter, it pulls the rug out from under us by making the dream the catalyst instead of the subject.

In the same way Mirror Gem spends its entire ominous runtime preparing us to meet Lapis Lazuli, Steven’s Dream is an eleven minute introduction to Blue Diamond. Both episodes develop a sense of foreboding with little hint of what’s to come, both give us a little bit of fun to lull us into a sense of ease before jolting us back into the mystery, both pit the Crystal Gems as opponents of sorts to Steven, and both have that wonderful pacing where the third act takes up half the episode so we have room to breathe. Mirror Gem has the advantage of blindsiding us with our first new Gem (and has a slower, eerier burn), but Steven’s Dream uses characters with eighty-six extra episodes of development to sell a mystery that our hero is actively trying to solve.

The most obvious way Steven’s Dream builds dread are the tears. It’s a device that works again and again and again on this show, especially when Steven is the one affected: his face is rarely sad when they come, and they’re huge without devolving into silly water spurts, so despite the empathy tears might otherwise bring, it’s instead an unsettling omen of danger, like the crocodile’s clock. Combined with the brevity of the first dream, the stark opening of the episode thrusts us into the emotional space that fills the next arc.

But we also get Pearl and Garnet providing more explicit concern. Pearl tries changing the subject, but when push comes to shove she covers her mouth for the second time since we were first told that Rose shattered Pink. While this and other acts of self-censorship become clearer after A Single Pale Rose, at this point we still know it’s in character for her to be uncomfortable about certain elements of the war; even going back to Ocean Gem, she’s hesitant to reveal that not all Gems were “good.”

More surprising is Garnet, to the point where Steven mentions how unusual it is for her to so openly obfuscate. She has her mysterious streak, sure, but she’s been blunt and honest for a while now, and was the Crystal Gem who confirmed the story of Pink Diamond. Estelle gets a terrific showcase here, giving full weight to Garnet’s fear while providing levity as she gets frustrated for making the secret sound more enticing.

This is my favorite kind of hint: the one you could feasibly suss the truth out of if you pause the episode and think about it, but is clear as day in retrospect. We’ve seen Garnet freeze in Keeping It Together, and we’ve seen her afraid in the lead-up to The Return, and both incidents involve Homeworld. The “her” in question could be Yellow Diamond, but The Answer showed us Garnet’s relationship with Blue Diamond. It just doesn’t click until we see the blue palanquin, and Garnet’s explanation after Greg’s abduction makes her resignation to fate all the sadder on rewatch.

(The movie where cows are abducted is a clearer hint in a show that’s all about foreshadowing through television screens, but I still didn’t see Blue Diamond coming.)

Amethyst, who was born long after the war and has little to contribute besides a joke and a great reaction shot, sorta sides with Steven at first, but soon falls into the background to enjoy the show. That’s three for three in terms of Gems not helping Steven find the truth, and for the first time since the revelation, he finally gets mad at them. I appreciate so much that it’s not played as a childish temper tantrum but an airing of legitimate grievances: he was already lied to by omission for ages, which he managed to forgive the Gems for, but past deception makes this new secret too much to handle. As Amethyst says, he deserves to know the truth he’s asking for, but he doesn’t get it. The irony is that another character deserves something he doesn’t ask for, but he gets it anyway.

In the words of Blue Diamond herself, Greg Universe should not be doomed on a dying world. True, the world isn’t actually dying, but given the information available, her judgment was sound. And part of the reason why is that, in stark contrast to the three Gems, the three named human characters we see in the episodes are helpers. Connie brings Buddy’s journal and is nothing but encouraging, and while the Universes could’ve afforded a plane ticket, Uncle Andy is the one who flies them to Korea. When the truth hits too close to home for the Gems, humans step up to the plate, and it’s such a powerful way to showcase the value of Steven’s mixed heritage.

But the more general reason Greg deserves to live is that he’s the best of us. Steven talks to him about Pink Diamond before we even get to the Gems, and to me it evokes that pivotal moment where it’s Greg, the human side of Steven’s family, who reveals that the Gems were invaders in The Return. In both conversations, Greg drives home that the past was a long time ago, and that he didn’t judge Rose or push her to talk about things she was uncomfortable with. It might not be helpful for Steven’s fact-finding hunt, but it shows that Greg’s priorities were straight and he values caring about others more than anything.

(I do wonder, though. Greg says here that Rose seemed to want to confess everything, but he said it didn’t matter. I guess we’ll never know just how much of the truth she was willing to confess.)

And of course, Greg is the one who accompanies Steven to Korea. This is a story that wouldn’t work without his wealth explaining their ability to take a tour, but goofy asides about watches aside, what’s more important is that Greg sticks up for his son and encourages his curiosity, even when it’s scary (and yeah, seeing an animator drawing you is probably pretty scary). He’s nervous about closing in on the secret, but trusts Steven enough to follow through. And it all leads to Greg meeting his sister-in-law.

The hints of our interloper’s identity grow more obvious as we close in; the “Please” sign in Pearl’s script shows us we’re close to something, but the blue palanquin raises more specific warning bells before we finally hear a new voice.

Lisa Hannigan is not like Susan Egan, Patti LuPone, or Christine Ebersole. For starters, she’s the only Diamond voice without an American accent. But something less noticeable from the episode alone is that she’s the only Diamond voice who hasn’t been on Broadway; Hannigan isn’t an actress of stage or screen, but a singer through and through, with just one voice acting role prior to Steven Universe (in the excellent Song of the Sea). This is is a different type of performer, but Blue is a different kind of Diamond: where her sisters each adapted in their own way in the aftermath of Rose’s rebellion, Blue never found a defense mechanism to distract herself, so she’s consumed at all times by grief.

Comparing Hannigan to LuPone in particular is inevitable, as they’re the first two Diamonds we meet (at least the first two that we know are Diamonds) and they’re such a stark contrast. Hannigan’s otherworldly voice, capable of soothing sorrow and icy rage, is a radical departure from LuPone’s sheer power. It’s something that becomes even clearer when they share the same screen, but for now, Blue’s melancholy sets her apart not only from Yellow but from Garnet’s depiction of the cruel overlord we saw in The Answer. We know at this point that the Diamonds have done horrible things, but Blue Diamond humanizes them in a way Yellow Diamond has only hinted at.

Greg and Blue’s exchange is a somber, touching, chilling affair. While there’s a certain level of comfort humans in this universe have with weird alien stuff compared to how we might act, Greg is especially tuned to be casual in this scenario; he may address this giant woman as “your highness,” but he’s otherwise speaking as a peer. As in Mr. Greg, we get a rare moment of him mourning Rose aloud, in a way that shows how often he really is thinking of her. But as we saw in Three Gems and a Baby, he’s able to work through it by pouring that love into Steven, and the person Blue Diamond was most likely to pour love into is the one she lost.

As the eerie Diamond harmonette drones, we see more and more of Blue beyond her hunched form. First her arm raises, then she straightens her back, then we see the bottom of her face, before she finally turns to face Greg (and us); each stage is brought about by conversation with Greg, and her wonder at his ability to relate with her. While the talk seems to be going well, the music erupts as Blue snatches Greg, rises to her full, terrifying height, and reveals her ship: not a hand, but an entire arm. 

Even as she’s humanized, we see glimpses of the tyrant Garnet told us of, and that we’ll see more of in the future. Her soft bewilderment comes from a place of superiority, and she treats Greg as an animal to be saved even as he protests. She does care, but through the lens of absolute authority over her pearl and lesser races. It comes across as tolerance rather than true empathy, and that exact sort of cold half-affection was a major factor in Pink’s resentment of her older sisters.

And poor Steven, who tried to stop Greg from even approaching the situation, can’t do a thing to stop his only remaining parent from being taken. His floating is powered by happy feelings, and there just aren’t enough of those to reach a rocketing spaceship. Garnet’s rescue may seem convenient, but her frantic apology and explanation absolves her in my mind: on top of being scared out of her wits, she was trying to prevent a future where everyone got taken.

The cliffhanger is more of a call to action than a cut to black, and the episode does “resolve” in its own way: we wanted to know what Steven was dreaming about, and we certainly found out. The tragedy is that Steven was right to be curious, and Greg was right to be kind, and both are punished for it. Greg is mature enough to not assign blame for his abduction, but this is rocket fuel for Steven’s ever-growing martyr complex. One day Steven will be happy again, but he’s never quite the same after this nightmare of an encounter. 

We’re the one, we’re the ONE! TWO! THREE! FOUR!

I compared this episode to Mirror Gem, which is my favorite lore episode of the series. While Steven’s Dream doesn’t rank quite as high due to the glut of other terrific episodes, it still squeezes into my top twenty for now.

Top Twenty

Steven and the Stevens

Hit the Diamond

Mirror Gem

Lion 3: Straight to Video

Alone Together

Last One Out of Beach City

The Return

Jailbreak

The Answer

Mindful Education

Sworn to the Sword

Rose’s Scabbard

Earthlings

Mr. Greg

Coach Steven

Giant Woman

Beach City Drift

Winter Forecast

Bismuth

Steven’s Dream

Love ‘em

Laser Light Cannon

Bubble Buddies

Tiger Millionaire

Lion 2: The Movie

Rose’s Room

An Indirect Kiss

Ocean Gem

Space Race

Garnet’s Universe

Warp Tour

The Test

Future Vision

On the Run

Maximum Capacity

Marble Madness

Political Power

Full Disclosure

Joy Ride

Keeping It Together

We Need to Talk

Chille Tid

Cry for Help

Keystone Motel

Catch and Release

When It Rains

Back to the Barn

Steven’s Birthday

It Could’ve Been Great

Message Received

Log Date 7 15 2

Same Old World

The New Lars

Monster Reunion

Alone at Sea

Crack the Whip

Beta

Back to the Moon

Kindergarten Kid

Buddy’s Book

Gem Harvest

Three Gems and a Baby

Like ‘em

Gem Glow

Frybo

Arcade Mania

So Many Birthdays

Lars and the Cool Kids

Onion Trade

Steven the Sword Fighter

Beach Party

Monster Buddies

Keep Beach City Weird

Watermelon Steven

The Message

Open Book

Story for Steven

Shirt Club

Love Letters

Reformed

Rising Tides, Crashing Tides

Onion Friend

Historical Friction

Friend Ship

Nightmare Hospital

Too Far

Barn Mates

Steven Floats

Drop Beat Dad

Too Short to Ride

Restaurant Wars

Kiki’s Pizza Delivery Service

Greg the Babysitter

Gem Hunt

Steven vs. Amethyst

Bubbled

Enh

Cheeseburger Backpack

Together Breakfast

Cat Fingers

Serious Steven

Steven’s Lion

Joking Victim

Secret Team

Say Uncle

Super Watermelon Island

Gem Drill

Know Your Fusion

Future Boy Zoltron

No Thanks!

     6. Horror Club      5. Fusion Cuisine      4. House Guest      3. Onion Gang      2. Sadie’s Song      1. Island Adventure

[sophcaro]

Destiny | WMatsui - Chapter 40 Part 2

“First time in Paris?”

“Oh no, it’s my second time,” Rena, mustering her best English, replied to the male taxi driver. “But the first time was for work.”

“You’ll love it here,” the French taxi driver glanced back at her through the rearview car mirror. “Many, many monuments to see. Paris est une si belle ville! Beautiful Paris! Paris is a romantic city!”

“Yes,” Rena replied, entertained by the driver’s enthusiasm and his mixture of French and broken English. “I’m sure I’ll enjoy it here.”

“You will! Trust me!”

The taxi driver fell quiet, listening to the animated Sport talk show on radio. Rena observed the traffic outside the window. By the time their plane arrived at the French airport and they retrieved their suitcases, it was 6:30 p.m. when each couple hopped in a taxi. The airport crowded exit mingled with the peak time had led them straight into traffic, the slow progress of the car not failing to put Jurina asleep.

Fifteen minutes later, they managed to get out of the traffic jam, Rena amazed at the scenery unfolding in front of her as they drove through the center of Paris. Rena marveled at the view of the Arc de Triomphe, then the endless line of characteristic 19th century bourgeois apartments and buildings, until arriving at the Seine River as they crossed the Alma Bridge. For a while, the taxi drove along the river, the actress taking in the Iena Bridge on their right, until the view of the ‘Iron Lady,’ the emblematic Eiffel Tower on her left, made her understand that they were approaching their final destination.

A few times along the way, Rena couldn’t help thinking it was a real shame that Jurina was sleeping. She should be enjoying with her such a beautiful view. At some point, she had considered waking her up. In the end, Rena had refrained from doing it and let the younger girl continue her peaceful nap. They would have plenty opportunities to appreciate the city during their week holiday.

It was the second time Rena came to Paris, but she couldn’t say she had visited much of it. In 2009, she had been part of the trip with other AKB48 members when the idol group had been invited to perform in Paris at the Japan Expo, a French convention popular for celebrating Japanese’s culture, animation and music. It had been a short trip, most of the girls merely having the occasion to see the city, while dozing off from the long, tiring flight, through the window of a bus.

The least Rena could say, it’s that none of them truly had the chance to appreciate to its fullest the beauty and charms of the French capital. Despite the distant memory, Paris had left quite an impression on her, and Rena promised herself to return one day. To be perfectly sincere, this trip came at the right moment. These last years, she had been so swamped with work, that she never had been able to afford more than a couple of days off. For those holidays abroad, Rena had succeeded in clearing her schedule for a full week and was accompanied not simply by wonderful friends, but also the person she loved and shared her daily life. To add it up, those vacations were taking place just after Rena’s 30th birthday, making this trip to Paris all the more special to her.

   While Rena and Yuki approached the hotel counter to check in, Jurina was desperately trying to stay awake. The long 12-hour flight, coupled with the jetlag, were getting the best of her, and she had to clench the handle of the suitcase to not collapse in the hallway. Blinking the sleep away for the umpteenth time, a flash of lucidity reminded her of an important task she was supposed to take care of, one she had utterly forgotten at their arrival at the French airport. Not wasting another minute, Jurina quickly retrieved her phone from her vest.

“Who are you texting?” Mayu, who was standing by her side, and passing time by playing a game on her phone, asked in confusion.

“My mom,” Jurina answered sleepily, gathering her last remnant of energy to concentrate on the content of the message. “To tell her that we’ve arrived.”

“At that time?” Mayu leaned closer, checking the text she was typing. “Wait. You actually are! You do realize it’s 3 a.m. in Japan?”

“Yes,” Jurina sighed, stealing a peek at their respective partners. They were still occupied with the receptionist, and she resumed her text. “If I don’t do it now, I’m afraid I’ll fall asleep and forget. She could have stayed awake to receive the confirmation that I arrived. I don’t want to take the risk of her texting Rena.”

“She would do that?” Mayu asked, astounded.

Jurina cringed. “Oh, she could.” She read the message, making sure it contained all the necessary information and was as coherent as possible, then pressed the button Send. “If you knew how many times she texted Rena these last months… you would be surprised.”

“Careful,” Mayu grinned. “Next thing you know, she will stop texting you and only go through Rena. I don’t blame her. Your girlfriend is obviously more reliable when it comes to getting info.”

Jurina glared at her. “Very funny.”

“You know it’s true,” Mayu quipped. “Last time you both came to our place for dinner, I had to text Rena to know when you would arrive. You had omitted to warn me that you had an interview in the evening.”

“Oh, that…” Jurina flushed. “But for my defense, this interview was a last-minute thing! It wasn’t planned. I meant to text you, but I got distracted and completely forgot.” Reflecting upon Mayu’s words, Jurina gazed at her in a mixture of worry and guilt. “I don’t do that often, do I? Forget, I mean.”

“No, you don’t,” Mayu replied impishly. “I just wanted to see your reaction.”

“Mayu,” Jurina growled. “How come you are so full of energy? I barely have the strength to stand up.”

“I slept on the plane,” Mayu explained. She frowned at the bags under Jurina’s eyes. “Why didn’t you?”

“I couldn’t find sleep, so I listened to music and watched movies,” Jurina confessed sheepishly.

“You were too excited,” Mayu stated matter-of-factly. “It’s fine. Tomorrow morning is program free.”

“Right…” Jurina murmured, relief sweeping through her at the reminder. “Don’t worry about me. I need one good night sleep, and I’ll be in top form.”

“I have no doubt,” Mayu said amusingly.

“We’ve got them!” The sight of Yuki waving the keycards in front of them brought both friends out of their discussion. “We’re all on the second floor. Let’s go to our rooms. God, I’m so exhausted. How did you manage to sleep so well on the plane?” Yuki asked Mayu, her expression changing to one of incredulity. “I don’t believe I have the strength to go out for dinner. What do you think if we order room service?”

“I don’t mind,” Mayu answered.

Rena, witnessing her girlfriend’s sleepiness, chimed in. “Yes. I think we’ll probably do the same.”

The four friends took the direction of the elevator, getting down at floor 2, splitting up in the corridor after agreeing to meet the next day for breakfast. From her peripheral vision, Jurina saw the other couple disappearing in room 26, before hearing the distinctive sound of the keycard opening the room she shared with Rena. She followed the older girl as she progressed inside room 22.

The decoration of the room stole Jurina’s breath away. From the wallpaper, to the curtains, cushions, bedside lamp and armchair, the room followed an impeccable pattern of red and black warm colors. Large paintings on the walls, representing popular views and monuments of Paris, and underlined by quotes from French writers, perfected the romantic atmosphere. But what caught the most Jurina’s attention, were the hundreds of red petals of rose spread all over the bed.

“Did you... Did you book a special room?” Jurina gasped.

“No, I didn’t,” Rena replied innocently. “But I have to admit it’s a very nice room. Don’t you think?”

“It’s not just nice,” Jurina corrected, sweeping around the place in amazement. “It’s… It’s so beautiful.”

Jurina left her suitcase aside and approached the king-size bed, her palm grazing over the soft, silky surface of the red colored bed scarf. She laid down on the bed, resting on the red square cushion, marveling at the sight of the bed of roses. Her fingers brushed the red petals, letting them slip through her fingers. She glanced back at Rena with awe. “I can’t believe we got such a beautiful room.”

“We are in Paris,” Rena came to lay by her side on the bed. She wrapped her arm around Jurina’s back, holding her snugly. “Maybe this hotel wants to live up to the city’s romantic image?”

“I guess,” Jurina murmured, her sleepy state of mind preventing her from elaborating any other possible explanation. “I’m not… I’m not really hungry.”

“I figured,” Rena’s tone was kind and understanding. “If you don’t want to eat, you should at least change clothes before going to sleep.”

Jurina didn’t reply, losing herself in the lulling sensation of Rena’s hand stroking the length of her back. Jurina closed the distance between them, Rena meeting her halfway as their lips connected in a short kiss. Jurina studied her, warmth in her eyes, fighting hard to stay conscious. Against her will, Rena’s image slowly blurred, Jurina’s heavy pupils closing without her consent as her body surrendered to exhaustion.

  When Jurina woke up, the first thing she noticed was the bright, sunny light filtering underneath the double curtains, clear indication that the morning was well-advanced. Relieved to feel quite rested, she took pleasure in watching her girlfriend’s peacefully sleeping form, before stiffening when she discovered what she was wearing. Why was she in her daily clothes? Jurina searched her mind for an explanation, retracing the events of the previous evening. She remembered entering the hotel room and laying down on the comfy bed but the rest was a complete blur. Confused by the gaps in her memory, Jurina turned to the side when she felt the body next to her stirring up.

“Morning…” Rena whispered; she planted a gentle kiss on Jurina’s forehead. “Did you sleep well?”

Jurina lit up at the affectionate gesture, completing the morning routine by lacing their hands together. Jurina’s attention fell upon her own ring finger, the silver band another reminder that something had definitely gone wrong the previous night. “I did,” she replied, gazing back and forth questioningly between her own appearance and her slowly awakening girlfriend. “What happened? Why did I… Why did you let me go to sleep like this?”

“I see someone has a bad recollection of yesterday,” Rena said with a slight giggle. “I suggested you to change into your pajamas, but you didn’t listen. You fell asleep soon after your head touched the pillow.”

“Really?” Jurina blinked, destabilized that she couldn’t remember any of it. “I guess… I guess I was exhausted.”

“Yes, you were.” A flicker of amusement crossed Rena’s features. “Let’s not mention how complicated it was to get you out of the taxi without you stumbling, or the fact that you confused our suitcases and entered the hotel with mine.”

Jurina was stunned by the revelation. “No, I didn’t… I didn’t do that.”

“You did,” Rena laughed. “So, now that you’re fully rested…” She stroked Jurina’s face, tracing her cheekbones, and gently kissed her on the cheek. “Are you ready to start our visit of Paris?”

“Isn’t this morning supposed to be program free?” Jurina asked for confirmation, receiving a nod in reply. “We can join Mayu and Yuki for breakfast, then decide what to do? But first, I need a shower. I can’t believe I fell asleep fully-clothed. I don’t even remember the last time that happened.”

“And I couldn’t do anything about it,” Rena added jokingly, watching her troubled girlfriend getting out of bed and approaching her suitcase. “You were sleeping like a log.”

Jurina, who was working on the lock combination, felt the color in her cheeks rising at the embarrassing reminder. “Dammit…” she muttered to herself after a second failed attempt. “W-What’s my code again?”

Rena was ready to laugh, but smiled widely instead. “8 0 3. If I remember correctly, it has never changed in 10 years.”

“Thanks,” Jurina said gratefully, despite being conscious of the blatant teasing she was being subjected to. Without further delay, she opened her suitcase and grabbed a pair of flesh clothes. “I’m going to take a shower. I won’t be long.”

Jurina vanished inside the bathroom and Rena slowly straightened up in bed, allowing herself to relax. In the background, water was falling in the shower, and Rena took time to appreciate the warm red and black colors of the hotel room decoration, reminding her that they definitely were in the city of love and romance. Her gaze fell upon the rose petals spread all over the bedsheet, amused by Jurina’s reaction the previous evening. She glanced around the place, lingering on the French quote underlining a painting of Montmartre.

La vie c’est des étapes… La plus douce c’est l’amour… La plus dure c’est la séparation… La plus pénible c’est les adieux… La plus belle c’est les retrouvailles.

Rena read it carefully, using her French lessons and vocabulary knowledge of the foreign language to decipher it. Unfortunately, she didn’t have the opportunity to decrypt its meaning to its fullest that she got distracted by the bathroom door opening, witnessing in mild-amusement a Jurina clad in her underwear rummaging frenetically through her suitcase. Most visibly, someone was not satisfied with the clothes she had previously chosen.

As their gazes suddenly met across the room, the corners of Jurina’s mouth turned up into a mischievous expression. “What are you staring at?”

“The girl walking half-naked in my hotel room,” Rena shot back playfully.

“Your hotel room?”

“Yes, mine,” Rena answered, in a fake shocked tone. “I booked it. Please don’t tell me you forgot about that too.”

Jurina, her previous goal all forgotten, left her suitcase aside and got up on her feet, progressing towards the bed. When Rena laid down from her previous seated position, Jurina understood the message conveyed and didn’t hesitate to climb on top of her. “I’m not so sure I should get dressed now,” Jurina claimed her lips in a slow, lingering kiss, pretending to think. “Do you think I need to?”

“Well…” Rena’s fingers ran up Jurina’s sides, stopping under the swell of her breasts and the fabric of her bra, then sliding down her heaving ribs and over her belly. “Eventually, you will need to get dressed if you want to go outside. But that depends entirely on you. I don’t know what you had in mind for this morning.”

Jurina studied her with a mixture of love and fascination, not missing the seductive glint in the depth of Rena’s dark brown orbs. Jurina was spellbound by her eyes, ensnared in her gaze, and her mouth swooped down to capture hers once more. The kiss was passionate and hungry, filled with all the feelings for her coursing through her veins. As it was returned with equal want and passion, Jurina felt a rush of warm emotion, Rena’s dexterous fingers traveling around to her back and prompt to unhook her bra.

  Yuki was humming a cheery melody as she turned at the corner of the corridor, Mayu’s steps following closely behind as they approached room 22. This morning, Yuki was in a wonderful mood. Not only had she recovered from her lack of sleep, she was impatient to start their visit of the French capital. The last time she had visited the city of love was four years ago and she always hoped to come back, this time not for work purposes but for pleasure.

“I’ll see if they are up,” Yuki said, getting a brief nod from Mayu who was busy checking her phone. Yuki halted in front of the hotel door and raised her arm, stopping in mid-air when she perceived explicit noises coming from the other side. “M-Maybe…” She froze, and had to stop and work out her words. “Maybe we should go to breakfast without them.”

Mayu raised from the screen. “What? Why? Yesterday, we all agreed to meet for breakfast, remember?”

“I-I do,” Yuki spoke lamely. “This morning is supposed to be program free, right?” She added with an attempt at lightness. “So, why don’t we let them enjoy their morning as they wish? We’ll meet them later.”

“You’re not making any sense,” Mayu said with a frown. “It’s past 9 a.m. Maybe they forgot to check the time, or didn’t hear their alarm-clock.”

When Mayu took a decided step forward to knock, Yuki grabbed her arm urgently. “No, Mayuyu, we really shouldn’t interrupt.”

“Interrupt what?” A pregnant silence stretched out between them. When Mayu caught the sounds coming from inside the room, her mouth twitched with amusement. “Oh, I see. Yes, it’s best to go downstairs. They’ll join us later. Maybe.”

“Yes. Maybe,” Yuki said awkwardly.

Turning on their heels, they walked towards the elevator, Mayu taking the initiative to press the button to call it when the girl by her side seemed completely lost in her thoughts. “I can’t blame them. It’s Paris. They got affected by the romantic atmosphere and couldn’t help themselves.”

Yuki stared back at her in bafflement. “On the first day?!”

“Why not?” Mayu shrugged. “Anyway. What did you have in mind for this morning? We’re supposed to visit the Eiffel Tower, no?”

“Y-Yes,” Yuki cleared her throat, trying to recollect herself. “I mean, I don’t remember our program. We were supposed to visit The Eiffel Tower this morning? Are you sure? Or was it tomorrow?”

Surprise, then disbelief, crossed Mayu’s features. “It’s been a while I’ve seen my Yukirin so flustered.”

“Of course, I am!” Yuki exclaimed dramatically. “It’s our friends we’re talking about! It was way too embarrassing to hear… that!”

The elevator opened and they entered. “But why? What do you think they usually do in bed?” Mayu asked cheekily. “Play chess? Conjugate Latin verbs?”

“Mayuyu! Will you stop it?!” Yuki groaned, burying her face in her hands. “I had finally managed to erase the image from my mind, and you had to put it back!”

Mayu’s lips quirked in a twisted smile. “You haven’t answered my questi-”

“That’s enough,” Yuki glared at her, slapping her arm. “Promise me we’ll never talk about that anymore. Promise me!”

“Fine, fine,” Mayu stifled a laugh. When she noted Yuki’s disapprobation, she quickly pecked her cheek. “I promise. I won’t mention it.”

Yuki breathed a sigh of relief, failing to catch the lie hidden behind Mayu’s mask of innocence and the fingers crossed behind her back.

  Buffet was closed when Jurina and Rena considered their morning program, deciding it was a shame to order room service when the city had plenty to offer. After a short stroll in the neighborhood of their hotel, they stopped in front of the characteristic red storefront of a French Café, and settled down at the terrace. They didn’t have to wait long to be served, a hearty breakfast composed of croissants, buttered toasts, jam, fresh orange juice, and café crème soon being placed between them.

Jurina took in every single detail surrounding her, from listening to the locals speaking the language of Molière, to the black vests and long white aprons worn by the male waiters serving them, without forgetting the breathtaking view of the Eiffel Tower. Being her first time in Paris, it was too easy to fall prey to the irresistibly charming romantic atmosphere. Her observation seemed to reach no end, until her gaze landed at last on the quiet older girl sitting opposite her.

“How do you like Paris so far?” Rena took a sip of her cup of coffee, the fresh brew delighting her nostrils with the mocha aroma.

“It’s…” Jurina sighed dreamily, relaxing back in her chair. “It’s beautiful. What about you? Is Paris faithful to the memory you had of it?”

Rena settled down her drink on the small round table separating them, pondering over her question. “It’s hard to say. I was 17 when I came to Paris for the first time. My main concern was to not mess up the choreography, and remember the lyrics of the songs I had to perform, especially in French. I was so stressed and sleep-deprived, that the rest of the trip is a blur. We barely had any free time to visit the city, and I was too exhausted to remember much of it anyway.”

“You had to sing in French?!” Jurina gasped in shock.

“Yes, when I did a duet with Kasai Tomomi,” Rena laughed, reminiscently. “You should have seen her: she exulted such confidence on stage. Me? I was a bundle of nerves. I didn’t understand a single word I was saying; I had to learn everything phonetically. I rehearsed the song countless of times the previous evening in my hotel room, and even again before the performance. I did my best, but I’m not convinced the audience managed to understand my terrible pronunciation.”

“Your pronunciation sounded very good to me when you spoke to the waiter,” Jurina said confidently. “I would be incapable of saying more than a few words.”

“I should lend you some of my books then, if you’re interested in learning new languages,” Rena offered. “After all, I know you’ve always been fascinated by Le Petit Prince. Don’t think I haven’t noticed the way you stare at me each time I’m reading it.”

“Rena…” Jurina chuckled softly at her girlfriend’s teasing tone. Rena’s almost obsessive passion for this particular story was one she still couldn’t fully comprehend. How many times had she discovered the book slipped in the actress’ suitcase, or witnessed her girlfriend reading it for the umpteenth time before going to bed? Too many to count, assuredly. “I don’t think it’s wise of me to learn another language when I already struggle with English. Besides, I know the essential when it comes to French.”

“You do?” Rena’s brow furrowed. “Like what?”

“Bonjour, ça va, pain, au revoir, and of course, last but not the least,” Jurina’s voice took on a sensuous undertone as she slid her hand across the table, catching Rena’s inside hers. “Je t’aime.”

Rena suppressed a laugh at Jurina’s cheesiness. “Yes, you know the essential. What else could you possibly need to learn?”

The moment was broken by the sound of Rena’s phone beeping. “It’s a text from Yuki. They reached the top of the Eiffel Tower. She sent a picture. She says the view is beautiful.”

“Oh, they went to visit it this morning? I can’t wait to visit it too,” Jurina said enthusiastically, checking the attached picture Rena was showing her. “When are we visiting it?”

“On the last day,” Rena replied without the slight hesitation. “I thought it would be a great idea to finish our vacations with Paris’s most emblematic monument.”

Jurina was caught off guard by the sudden glint in Rena’s eyes. It reminded her of a similar reaction her girlfriend had harbored at Haneda Airport. Rena had been the one to plan their holidays up to the finest detail, a task Jurina had been happy to let her take care of when she had witnessed the determination and pleasure Rena was having in taking matters in hand. Jurina couldn’t shake off the feeling that her girlfriend seemed to have a hidden agenda, but she chose not to interrogate her. Nevermind what it might be, she trusted her to have elaborated the best program to make their vacations to the city of love as memorable as possible.

  Notre-Dame de Paris, one of the most emblematic monuments of Paris, had suffered from a dreadful fire. In April 2019, Rena had been shocked by the devastating news, one that hadn’t failed to make the world news headlines. The wave of solidarity following the incident had been impressive: in barely three days, 1 billion euros of donations managed to be raised. The emotional response to the tragedy had transcended borders, languages and cultures, and donations to help support the reconstruction had poured from all around the globe.

During nine long hours, the flames had threatened to destroy and burn down Notre-Dame to ashes. It was past 8 p.m. when the relentless fight of the 400 firefighters had paid off, and they succeeded in putting a definitive end to the fire. When all prognostics imagined the worst outcome, Notre-Dame had survived. Its foundations had remained intact, proving its remarkable solidity. The cathedral, admired by 14 million of visitors every year, and fruit of the technical feat of past architects and builders, had been designed to cross time.  

As she and Jurina were walking through the parvis of the Cathedral, it was inconceivable not to pause. From the doors closed to the public during the reconstruction period, to the workers repairing stone by stone what had been lost in the fire, it was too soon to oversee what the final cathedral would look like. Its construction had begun in the 12s century and overgone through many phases of restoration over time, especially in the 19s century when it took its final radiant Gothic form.

From aside, Rena observed Jurina’s sadness. She squeezed her hand in comfort, Jurina leaning upon her shoulder in return. Under such circumstances, no words needed to be exchanged to realize that they were both equally moved by the devastating sight. Just as them, dozens of bystanders, locals and tourists, were stopping by and observing the damage done to the majestic monument.

During the course of the 21s century, the cathedral would be going through another major phase of restoration: it would need a few more years to reopen and regain its splendor. That day of April 15, Notre-Dame had been severely hit, but had not fallen. Nevermind how long it would take, Rena had no doubt it would be contemplated and praised once more for its powerful symbol and architectural magnificence.

  The sun was high in the sky when Jurina and Rena walked amongst the secondhand booksellers of the quays of the Seine, pausing every now and then to check the numerous book stalls. The Bouquinistes of Paris, booksellers of used and antiquarians’ books, was an obliged passage for any first visitor. It was a national treasure and a worldwide renown institution, one that lead millions of tourists every year to stop by and take a stroll, from the Quai de la Tournelle to Quai Voltaire on the left bank, to Pont Marie to Quai du Louvre on the right side.

At the invitation of a bookseller, Rena took a step forward, her fascination for old books having never wavered over the years. It was one of the ambivalences that existed within her: much as she enjoyed the modern technology of Tokyo, there was nothing like smelling and turning the pages of an old book. As anticipated, most of them were written in French and Rena had no difficulty recognizing illustrious authors, from Victor Hugo and Maupassant, to Alexandre Dumas and Baudelaire.

By her side, Jurina was admiring a series of postcards and drawings, depicting notorious places and monuments of the capital, as well as more simple scenes of everyday life in the 19th century. It was a return to the past, the cobblestone streets, horse carriages, and steam-engine testimony of what Paris had once looked like. It represented an age that didn’t exist anymore, but could still be witnessed in the old and preserved districts of the city.

While Jurina addressed the French bookseller in a tentative English, and bought a couples of posters and pictures to her liking, Rena opted for an old edition of Zola’s Germinal and one of The Petit Prince that she didn’t have in her collection: a purchase she was certain Jurina wouldn’t fail to tease her about later on. Following that, they continued their walk to cross Pont Marie, pausing over the bridge to observe the endless passage of boats on the Seine. Rena didn’t know how long they remained standing there, relishing in the sight and relaxing atmosphere enveloping them, until she got distracted by the feeling of Jurina gently tugging at her hand.

Rena glanced back at her in curiosity, following her when Jurina lead them further across the bridge, until they stopped in front of an impressive display of locks. A young couple was standing in front of them, hanging a lock with their names written on it, and exchanging words of affection. Once they departed, Jurina slipped away from Rena’s grasp to open her own backpack, a small orange heart-shaped lock appearing inside her palm.

Rena’s mouth dropped. “A lock? When did you buy it?”

“In Tokyo, before leaving,” Jurina brightened with pride. “When I learned about this tradition of love bridges, there was no way I couldn’t do it.”

Following her own words, Jurina didn’t hesitate to step forward and, searching for an adequate place, carefully attached the lock to the grid. The flashy orange color made it stand out amongst the hundreds of other lovers’ locks. Rena studied the lock more closely, noticing that their names had been personally handwritten by Jurina, along with the cute drawing of a heart.

“I don’t… I don’t remember seeing you putting it in your suitcase,” Rena, warmth spreading through her chest, laced their fingers together when the younger girl came back to stand by her side.

“Of course, you didn’t,” Jurina replied with playful assurance. “I didn’t want the surprise to be ruined, so I made sure you weren’t looking.”

Rena laughed at Jurina’s sneaky action. For a while, they quietly remained standing in front of the impressive display of locks, lost in the romantic atmosphere created by the place. “It’s really beautiful,” Rena murmured, and couldn’t resist the urge to kiss her cheek. “There’s no rush, but when you’re ready, we can progress onto our next activity.”

Jurina let out a blissful sigh. “I’m ready. Let’s go.”

Following a short pleasant walk under the sun along the river bank, they waited in line for their turn to get aboard the pleasure boat. Rena prepared their booked tickets, listening as her girlfriend showed great eagerness for the upcoming excursion on the Seine. After taking their seats and putting on their audio guides, Rena couldn’t help but reflect once more upon Jurina’s last touching romantic gesture, knowing that the city of love was about to reserve them many more surprises.

  It was past 4 p.m. when they returned to their hotel, Jurina thankful that today had been program free. Even though she had recovered from her lack of sleep, there was no denying that she remained partly jetlag from the important time difference. Their last activity for the day, a cruise on an open excursion boat that had provided them with a view of the city and emblematic monuments of Paris from along the river Seine, had been absolutely enjoyable.

Jurina was the one to pass the doorstep of the hotel room first, her feet soon halting on the carpet when she stared at their made-up bed: a red square box, along with a white envelope, had been carefully disposed on the red colored bed scarf. Dropping her backpack on the floor, curiosity got the best of her and she reduced the distance, pleasantly surprised when she opened the letter and discovered a message wishing them a nice stay in Paris, entirely written in Japanese by the hotel staff.

“Rena, look,” Jurina took a seat on the bed, studying the red square box at the effigy of Pierre Hermé. “The hotel prepared again something for us.”

“Oh, you’re right.” Rena came to sit by her side, reading the letter she was handing her. She drew her attention to the unopened box decorated with a yellow ribbon. “That’s really nice of them. Why don’t you open it?”

Jurina didn’t need to be asked twice and proceeded, discovering 12 round biscuits neatly disposed inside the box. “Macaroons,” she murmured in awe.

“It looks like an assortment of fruits rouges. Why don’t you taste one?” Rena said encouragingly.  

“I really want to, but…” Jurina hesitated. “But it’s already late. Maybe it’s best to wait after dinner.”

“It’s alright, dinner with Mayu and Yuki isn’t until 8,” Rena replied, reassuring her. When the girl opposite her seemed still caught in a dilemma, Rena removed one macaroon from the box and brought it to Jurina’s mouth. “Come on, you know you want it.”

Jurina couldn’t resist the temptation and welcomed the French patisserie, relishing the sweet strawberry taste lingering on her tongue.    

So, how is it?” Rena asked.

Jurina beamed. “Delicious. You should try one.”

“I’m not very hungry, but go on,” Rena politely declined.

“What are you saying?” Jurina shook her head in protest. “I can taste them, but you won’t? Absolutely not.”

Jurina took out a macaroon from the box and, mimicking Rena’s previous action, held it up in front of her. Rena didn’t try to resist, surrendering to her girlfriend’s stubbornness. She appreciated the sweet and delicate raspberry taste, meeting Jurina’s expectant look. “Yes, it’s delicious. You want another one?”

“You shouldn’t tempt me,” Jurina whispered, chastising herself when her tone sounded far less reproachful than intended. Her gaze dropped to the box with uncertainty, itching to taste another macaroon. When she raised her eyes to meet Rena’s, she felt herself shiver. There was now a perceptible difference in Rena’s expression: she harbored a smile no longer sweet, but suggestive.

“Why not?” Rena fetched a third macaroon from the box and approached the biscuit to Jurina’s mouth, only to stop a few inches away. “What’s wrong with a little… temptation?”

Jurina’s heart skipped a beat, and she opened her mouth. While she slowly ate the macaroon, Rena appeared satisfied, her thumb grazing her lower lip again and again, then sliding to her chin as her eyes danced with wicked lust and amusement. Jurina’s stare latched onto her sensuous lips, swallowing hard, not hesitating any longer to succumb to the provocation and greedily seize Rena’s mouth with her own.

  Disneyland. If there was one place on earth that always succeeded in bringing out so effortlessly Rena’s childish side, it certainly was the Disney park. Of course, it was beyond question that a visit of Paris wouldn’t be complete without a stop at Rena’s all-time favorite park. The latter had even made sure all four of them didn’t leave the hotel too late to make it right on time for the opening.

It was impossible to miss the way Rena glowed as a child entering a candy store. They walked down the main street, the Sleeping Beauty Castle appearing in the background as they discovered the French version of the theme park. Jurina couldn’t count the number of times Rena had been to the park in Tokyo, mostly with Airi, also managing to drag her along on a couple of occasions. Nevermind the fact Rena knew each and every attraction by heart, her enjoyment never seemed to cease.

It was an unexpected yet fascinating sight to observe the usually so composed and eloquent 30-year-old actress turn into a kid, her persona changing drastically as if a switch had been turned on. Jurina never was as fond of the park as her girlfriend - or of any entertainment park in general - yet she was convinced a great time awaited the four of them on this sunny, beautiful day of August.

They spent the morning going through Adventureland, admiring the sets of the Pirate Galleon and Pirate’s Beach. They explored the mysterious land of Adventure Isle and the Pirates of Caribbean attraction. Their image was immortalized on picture, giving free rein to their imagination and making goofy poses in front of the camera with the notorious characters of the iconic movie.

The morning was well-advanced when Rena decided to raise the stakes by progressing down Frontierland and queuing up at the Big Thunder Mountain. Jurina didn’t see the immediate danger, the morning having been anything but entertaining. Little did she know that she was about to regret her recklessness. Thirty minutes later, when they exited the train and went to check their pictures on the screens, Jurina’s heart was beating wildly, having not entirely recovered from the ride.

The three other girls were delighted about the experience, sharing between them their favorite moments. Jurina could not quite say the same. With the train rattling around the haunting mountain at high speed, or the moments they happened to be in the complete dark, she had been pushed to her limits. Since she was a child, Jurina had never been comfortable with two things: heights and big thrills. With that last attraction, that she naively believed inoffensive, she could tell she had reached her quota of big thrills for the day.

Or for the year.

When Yuki suggested to join the line for the Indiana Jones Temple of Peril, Jurina shuddered at the idea. Today, for some strange reason, Yuki appeared to be on the same page as Rena when it came to the concept of fun. Jurina didn’t need to be given more information to realize that her poor fragile heart wouldn’t handle this next attraction. The title said enough on the terrifying experience that awaited her.

“Great idea!” Jurina heard Rena approving all too easily Yuki’s suggestion. They began making their way towards the designated attraction, Rena leading the group after checking the location and direction on the phone app. “There’s also the Star Wars Hyperspace Mountain and the Phantom Manor I really can’t wait to do.” The high pitch in Rena’s voice betrayed her enthusiasm.

“That sounds… scary,” Yuki winced.

A wave of relief swept through Jurina’s chest: at last, someone was voicing out loud her précised concerns.  

A short moment of silence followed suit, until Yuki exclaimed. “Count me in! I don’t care! I’m up for the challenge!”

Jurina blanched at Yuki’s radical change of heart.

Undoubtedly, she was pleased that Yuki and Rena got along, and they had developed a closer friendship over the past eight months. However, she wasn’t particularly at ease with this new diabolic alliance. Giving a quick side glance to Mayu, she secretly prayed for support, only to notice in dismay the latter nodding in approval to the suggestion. In a split second, Jurina’s apprehension grew a notch: she was outnumbered.

Jurina followed the three girls in silence, repeating to herself again and again that she was 24 years old and it was time to stop being so afraid. She wasn’t a kid anymore. If others could do it, why couldn’t she? As they approached their final destination, the view of the infamous attraction coupled with the screams reaching her, ended up getting the best of her resolve. Her steps slowed down, almost as if she was unconsciously trying to delay the inevitable.

An action that caught Rena’s attention. “I’m so sorry. I completely forgot,” Rena murmured apologetically. “Let’s skip it. We’ll do another one.”

“N-No, I’m fine,” Jurina protested, putting up a brave front. “It’s probably not as frightening as it sounds. I’m not afraid. I’ll do it.”

“Are you sure?” Rena asked skeptically. “Be honest with me. You don’t have to force yourself for my sake.”

Jurina’s chest warmed up. She could tell her girlfriend truly meant every word, and she wouldn’t hold it against her if they changed their plans. Nevertheless, a part of her refused to deprive her of a fun day only because she had always been a scary cat.

“I’ll do another attraction with Jurina while you both do that one,” Mayu chimed in the conversation. “We’ll meet after you finished.”

Jurina found herself speechless. “Wait, no, you don’t have to do that. I can really… I can really do it.”

“It’s a great idea,” Rena agreed. “No one said we all had to do the same attractions.”

Jurina opened her mouth to retort, but stopped when Rena gently pressed her lips to her cheek. “Enjoy yourself with Mayu. We’ll meet later for lunch.”

“What about Rustler Roundup Shootin’ Gallery?” Mayu suggested, when both Rena and Yuki turned on their heels. “It sounds fun, and it’s a 5 min walk from here.”

Jurina glanced back hesitantly in the direction of Yuki and Rena, as they disappeared in the dense crowd. “Mayu… You really didn’t want to go with them?”

“To Indiana Jones Temple of Peril? No, I don’t care that much about that one,” Mayu replied nonchalantly. “Besides, this shooting one seems much more fun. Wanna bet on who’s going to hit more targets?”

Jurina’s ears perked: she could recognize a challenge when she saw one. “What? Don’t be so sure of yourself. I progressed a lot lately at shooting games! Remember last time we went to the arcades in Shibuya?”

“Yes, I do. And you lost,” Mayu smirked. “But you’re right.” She patted Jurina’s arm. “It’s always good to have faith.”

Jurina groaned at her friend’s overflowing confidence. Their previous conversation falling at the back of her mind, she followed her, determined to wipe off that silly smug expression of hers.

  It was past 1 p.m. when they checked the restaurants and settled down at Colonel Hathi’s Pizza Outpost. Sending a quick text to Rena to inform her of their choice of restaurant, Jurina went through the menu full of Italian specialties, making up her mind on the Neapolitan Rigatoni Pasta. While waiting for their respective partners to arrive, the scorching sun had led them to order cold drinks, Jurina appreciating the sensation of the fresh citronade easing her dry throat. Jurina observed Mayu who was enjoying her Coca Cola, trying hard not to be affected by her self-satisfied expression.

Alright, Mayu had managed to beat her, but there was nothing to gloat about: it was solely by a small margin!

“Stop it,” Jurina grumbled.

“What? I didn’t do anything,” Mayu, sipping her soda through the straw, very innocently answered.

Jurina squinted at her, before noticing the last empty seats of the restaurant being taken by a family. Taking another good sip of her citronade, she watched the impressive crowd of visitors roaming through the park. If there’s something that this morning had taught her, it was that the French park was as popular as its Japanese version. Less than 10 minutes went by, until Rena and Yuki joined them at their table.

“So how was it?” Jurina asked. “Did you enjoy it?”

“I did!” Rena stated, with barely contained enthusiasm. “It’s a shame we don’t have that attraction in Tokyo. The level of thrills is unique.”

By Yuki’s small grimace, it wasn’t hard to guess that someone else had been excessively adventurous, and was regretting taking up Rena’s challenge.

  Rena’s anticipated meeting with Mickey and Minnie was a moment not to miss as the group ventured in Fantasyland. Considering the countless pictures Rena had taken with her Disney idols during the day, Jurina was positively certain her girlfriend would easily find a place to expose a couple of them at their apartment. The nearby souvenir shop seemed an obligatory stop, Jurina realizing Rena had something on her mind when she exited the shop and decidedly walked towards her.

From her shopping bag, Rena retrieved two pairs of Mickey Mouse ears, not hesitating in placing a pair on her head. Rena’s intentions were more than obvious when she stared at her maliciously, Rena positioning the second on hers with a barely dissimulated enthusiasm. Her girlfriend was ready to immortalize the glorious moment with a selfie, when they were interrupted by a French girl in her thirties with shoulder length brown hair. The latter kindly offered to take the picture, to which Rena accepted gratefully, pulling Jurina closer to take the pause in front of the camera.

The rest of the day went by in the speed of light, as they continued their thorough exploration of the park. They enjoyed popular attractions, Alice’s Curious Labyrinth, Dumbo the Flying Elephant and Mad Hatter’s Tea Cups, without forgetting of course Rena’s all-time favorite, the eternally enchanting It’s a small world. Those were attractions initially designed for little ones but that still managed to appeal to adults, awakening the child within each visitor.

At 5 p.m., they lined in the main street for the daily Disney Stars on Parade. If there’s one thing Jurina couldn’t deny as she observed the delight of the crowd following the colorful parade, it was that the entertainment park appealed to everyone. From kids and adults, to couples, families and friends, each fringe of the population was represented. Beside her, Rena’s eyes sparkled with undeniable happiness, and Jurina felt herself falling for her each day even more.

  The following days were spent enjoying the cultural delights of the French capital. In group or by pairs, depending on their convergence of interests, they visited Orsay and the Louvre, a must-see in the cultural world. They took a stroll through the streets of emblematic districts, such as Pigalle, historical district of musical scene famous for Moulin Rouge, or the Latin Quarter, with its Pantheon, National Museum of Natural History and the garden of plants, without forgetting the worldwide renown university of the Sorbonne.

Every evening, when Jurina would go back to her hotel for a well needed rest after a tiring yet enriching day, one constant never changed. On top of their bed, she would discover a gift from the hotel. Each time different and carefully presented, Jurina’s astonishment never ceased when she opened the present, making a mental note to thank the staff for their consideration.

On this particular day, they had all reunited for a full day of shopping on the most popular avenue in the world: The Champs Elysées. After making a long stop at the Galeries Lafayette, and leaving with their arms full of plastic bags, their entered a few others clothing and shoe stores, Jurina not bothering to hide her amusement when Rena found two more pairs of Adidas that she visibly didn’t have in her collection.

The afternoon was well advanced when they entered an entirely different store, dedicated to the sale of media products. On four spacious floors, you could practically find everything, from books and videogames, to CDs and DVDs.

“There are so many…” Mayu stood on the spot, staring in awe at the endless line of shelves under the Mangas section. Rapidly, her feet moved forward and she grabbed the first manga within reach, turning the pages, replacing it back on the shelf and seizing a second with eagerness.

“All in French,” Jurina, checking a manga, specified, her observation not appearing to diminish Mayu’s enthusiasm for all that.

Jurina studied her in bewilderment, her best friend not paying the slightest care in what she was saying and going through each and every shelf conscientiously. Mayu didn’t understand French any more than her but her undivided passion for mangas had taken the upper hand, shutting down any common sense. Earlier too, when they had wandered around the game section, Mayu had monopolized the area for 30 min straight, nevermind if none of the games were compatible with Japanese consoles.

Jurina had a good feeling their exploration of this new section was going to take a while. As a new shelf, full of figurines on sale, had now piqued Mayu’s interest, Jurina briefly averted her gaze and swept over the floor, in search of their two others companions. Much in vain, as she had long ago lost sight of Rena and Yuki when the group decided to split up on the second floor of the store.

“I know I already said it but,” Jurina spoke up, reflecting upon the realization that more than half of their week holiday had passed in the blink of an eye. “I’m so happy we were able to go on holidays all four together. I had missed it.”

The statement prompted Mayu to lower the figurine in her hands. “Me too,” She replied sincerely. “And yes, the timing was perfect. In September, Yuki is touring to promote her new album, and I’ll be busy shooting a movie. And you and Rena are playing in a drama together. It was now or never.”

Jurina lit up at the latest mention. “You can’t imagine how long I dreamed of such an opportunity. When we both got offered a role in the same drama, there was no way I could refuse. I was afraid it might be in conflict with Rena’s busy schedule, but when she told me she didn’t have anything planned, I was so, so happy.”

“I can almost imagine the fireworks in your head,” Mayu joked, then added. “Isn’t it her third TV show set in Feudal Japan, though? Isn’t she tired of doing period dramas?”

“Yes, but this time, we’re shooting it together,” Jurina raised an eyebrow challengingly. “Are you suggesting that she could get bored with me?”

“Oh right. Stupid question,” Mayu chuckled, acknowledging her mistake. If there’s one quality Mayu could grant her best friend, it was that Jurina always succeeded in making everyday life the opposite of dull and monotonous.

  On the other side of the floor, Yuki was venturing in the CD section. The number of shelves was imposing, all diligently divided in specific categories: French songs, R&B, pop, jazz, but also classical music, world music and soundtracks. The store also offered the possibility to listen to the recently released albums. Checking some artists, Yuki felt deterred by the realization that she didn’t know half of them.

“Either I have terrible taste in music, either we don’t listen to the same thing,” Yuki voiced out loud her concern. “The choice is impressive and diversified, but I don’t even know most of those artists. I don’t think I’ve even seen a single Japanese or Korean artist. Have you?!”

“No, I haven’t,” Rena, who was flipping over the CD of Mylene Farmer’s latest album, the French artist currently n°1 in the charts, concurred by her side. “I don’t think it has anything to do with having good or bad taste. It’s only that people in France don’t listen to the same music style as us.”

“Thank God,” Yuki breathed a heavy sigh of relief. “I was getting paranoid and beginning to question my taste in music.”

Rena chuckled in response.

They resumed their exploration, listening now and then to a few CDs, Yuki catching Rena peeking more and more frequently at her yellow gold wedding band. These last couple of months, it wasn’t the first time she had caught her friend in the act. She hadn’t thought too much about it, passing it as simple admiration for the jewelry. Nonetheless, she couldn’t ignore that Rena’s interest in her ring had been more insistent since their arrival in the French capital.  

Yuki pressed the button Stop of the CD she was listening, and removed the headphones. “Did I ever tell you how Mayu proposed?”

The question caught her female companion off guard, Rena replacing on the shelf the CD she was studying. “No. No, you didn’t.”

“One evening, Mayuyu invited me to the movies,” Yuki began reminiscently. “We had both been so swamped with work, that I believed it was only her being kind and thoughtful. Later on, we had a pleasant dinner at a romantic Italian restaurant, before Mayu asked if it was okay if we made a stop at the arcades. When she placed in my hands all the prices she had won, and let me finish first at every other game, I could sense something was off. When does Mayuyu let anyone beat her?”

Rena bit her lip to suppress a smile.

“I held my tongue, believing I was imagining things and she was probably in a bad day. After that, we went to buy an ice cream crepe,” Yuki continued, lowering her voice mysteriously. “We were walking back to the train station, enjoying our desserts, when she popped up the question out of nowhere! I was so shocked, that I almost dropped everything I was holding right in the middle of the street.”

Rena laughed heartily. “I see. But you still said yes.”

“I couldn’t say no to my Mayuyu,” Yuki sighed happily. “Besides, she made it up for her clumsy proposal by booking this wonderful weekend in Hawaii for our honeymoon. You should have seen our room. We had a lovely view on the sea, and the beach was only 5 min away by foot. And the jacuzzi. Don’t let me start on the jacuzzi.”

Rena grinned sweetly in response. “You two make a beautiful couple.”

“Thank you,” Yuki’s cheeks turned pink at the compliment. “It was a small, private wedding with only our families and closest friends, but it will always be the best day of my life. I’m so glad that both you and Jurina were able to come.”

“I couldn’t not be present for such an important event,” Rena shook her head softly. “Do you think you’ll ever make the news of your union public? Or you prefer that it remains private?”

“Mayuyu and I discussed it for a while before making a decision. Our families and friends know the truth; it’s all that matters to us. We’re happy as things are for now,” Yuki replied confidently.

Yuki took in Rena’s pensiveness, dying to broach a particular subject with her. She opened her mouth a few times to speak, before stopping herself. These past eight months, she and Rena had grown closer than ever. However, there was no denying that her friend had always been a rather private person. In all good conscience, she couldn’t take the risk of putting her ill-at-ease only to satisfy her overriding curiosity.

  When the group met up outside the store, Jurina was unsettled to see her girlfriend missing by Yuki’s side. “Rena is not with you?”

“No, she said she needed to make a stop at another shop,” Yuki replied, wincing in unease at the view of the large boxes in Mayu’s plastic shopping bags. “Don’t tell me… you found more figurines?”

“Yes, and I already know where I’m going to put them,” Mayu answered proudly.

“Another shop? Did she say which one?” Jurina was genuinely puzzled.

“She didn’t,” Yuki conceded, then added in a gentle tone. “But she asked me to tell you not to worry, and she’ll meet you later on at the hotel.”

“That’s strange. It doesn’t sound like her to disappear like that without tell-” The sound of her phone beeping made Jurina pause.

Mayu flashed a grin. “Let me guess. She sent you a text.”

“She… did,” Jurina felt so awkward.

“All right!” Yuki clapped her hands together. “Who wants an ice cream? I don’t know about you, but the heat is killing me.”

Jurina put her phone away and nodded positively, her mouth already watering in delicious anticipation.

  It was almost 6 p.m. when Jurina returned to the hotel with Mayu and Yuki, quite proud to not having let herself get carried away. Oh yes, she had an absolute fun time shopping, yet her amount of purchases could in no way match Yuki’s frenzy: her friend had literally cleaned out the luxury shops of the avenue.

After parting ways in the corridor with the other couple, Jurina slid her magnetic keycard and entered room 22, her gaze immediately landing on the familiar girl admiring the view from the balcony. Putting her shopping bags away, Jurina carefully removed her shoes and progressed inside. She briefly observed Rena’s purchases lined up next to her suitcase and she came up behind her, her arms locking around her waist. “Where did you disappear early on? I was worried.”

Rena placed her hand atop of hers, brushing the silver band on Jurina’s ring finger. “I’m sorry,” She brought Jurina’s hand to her lips, gently kissing her knuckles. “I remembered that I forgot to buy something.”

“What was it?” Jurina burned with curiosity. “Did you manage to find it? Why didn’t you tell me? I could have gone with you.”

“So many questions,” Rena chuckled softly. Swinging around, she folded her arms around Jurina’s neck and kissed the tip of her nose. “Didn’t you have fun with Yuki and Mayu?”

“I did,” Jurina replied, then added jokingly. “Even though I had to prevent Mayu from buying the whole manga section, and Yuki went on a shopping spree.”

“That would have been interesting to watch,” Rena laughed.

Jurina brought their lips together. “I really missed you.”

“I missed you too,” Rena caressed her hair, then added teasingly. “But you do realize we were only separated for two hours, right?”

“It doesn’t change the fact that I missed you,” Jurina pouted sulkily, extricating herself from the embrace. “So, what did you buy? Clothes? More shoes? Show me!”

Jurina didn’t have the opportunity to walk away, that Rena had pulled her back into her arms. “Nothing that important. Just some clothes I really liked.”

Jurina studied her closely, suspicious arising. For some reason, she couldn’t shake off the strange feeling that her girlfriend looked a bit too innocent and sweet. “Are you hiding something?”

“Why would I ever do that? And why does it seem that you are more interested in what I bought, than by your girlfriend who’s standing right in front of you?” Rena teased with a fake offended tone.

“No, I’m sure you’re hiding something from me,” Jurina narrowed her eyes at her. Leaning closer, she nibbled Rena’s earlobe, playfully biting on the pink tip. “And trust me when I say I will discover what it is.”

“Mmm,” Rena purred. Her fingers pressed in Jurina’s back, as she got possessively pinned against the nearest wall. “You seem so determined. I’m very curious to discover what you have in mind.”

Jurina’s heart pounded at her provocative gaze. The sensual stroking of Rena’s hands exploring the hollows of her back sent pleasant jolts through her, and she wondered just how cunning Rena could sometimes be. Her lips drifted to the side of Rena’s neck, grazing, teasing more than kissing it. When she managed to elicit a moan from her partner, Jurina felt a warm glow of satisfaction. Clasping her lips to Rena’s, she fiercely covered her mouth, well decided to get to the bottom of the mystery.  

  Two short days.

It was all that remained left of their magical stay in Paris.

As she and Rena exited the Basilica of the Sacré Coeur in Montmartre, Jurina tried her best to ignore her growing melancholy. If only the week hadn’t passed so incredibly fast. After such an amazing and authentic experience, it was going to take some time to re-adapt to her daily life in Japan. They hopped down the funicular, Jurina stealing discreet glances at the older girl walking by her side. Somehow, her girlfriend didn’t seem to share similar feelings. On the contrary, she appeared even more delighted than the first day, as if the approach of their departure wasn’t affecting her. When Rena casually slipped her hand inside hers, Jurina didn’t hesitate to intertwine their fingers together, soon falling deep in her thoughts.

If there’s one thing she had picked up on, it was that Rena had been behaving unusually mysterious. It had begun a few weeks ago, when Rena had showed great insistence in taking care of their holidays planning. It had continued at the airport, when a few declarations from Rena had caught her off guard, the occurrences increasing once in Paris. It was of apparent no consequence, Rena remaining nothing but sweet and affectionate, that Jurina hadn’t thought too much about it.

The previous evening, when Jurina had asked to see what Rena had bought in her absence, her simple request was met with a refusal. Nevermind how persuasive she tried to be, Rena had dodged the question with a disconcerting naturalness. Jurina didn’t believe to have a paranoid nature. However, this strange secrecy and those subtle changes in her attitude were beginning to unsettle her.

Was she making a big deal out of nothing, or Rena had something on her mind that she refused to share?

They were taking a stroll in the lively Place du Tertre, where many painters, portraitists and caricaturists exposed their work, when Rena stopped by the stall of a street artist. “These are amazing.”

“They are,” Jurina said, impressed by the quality and variety of the art exposed. From landscapes and portraits, to watercolor and pencil sketches, the male artist in his thirties who was quietly working on a sketch in front of the bystanders, had more than one string to this bow. “His portraits are so realistic.”

“Why don’t you ask him to do yours?” Rena suggested, reading the sign indicating in English that the artist offered to draw portraits. “We have plenty of free time this afternoon. There’s no rush.”

After a short moment’s reflection, Jurina gladly acquiesced. Rena stepped forward and exchanged a few words with the male artist, the latter inviting Jurina to sit down on the stool. Jurina patiently took the pause while he was preparing his pencils, following from her peripheral vision Rena who was going through his paintings. Somehow, this arrangement didn’t quite feel right.

“I have a better idea,” Jurina flipped around, decidedly catching Rena’s hand. “I want a drawing of the both of us.”

“You do?” Rena looked pleasantly surprised. “Alright. Let me check if it’s something he agrees to do.”

Jurina waited in anticipation, understanding the request had been accepted when a second stool was placed next to hers.

A light wind was blowing across her face, agreeably freshening the air from the scorching heat of August. On a few occasions, she couldn’t resist playing with Rena’s fingers or whisper to her ear a few jokes, an act that didn’t fail to earn her to be gently chastised. According to the older girl, you weren’t supposed to move during the process. Jurina frowned and decided she didn’t care, planting a quick kiss on Rena’s cheek in retaliation. The mischievous gesture was received with another warning and a small giggle.  

When the artist put his pencil down at last, Jurina was eager to discover the result. The least she could say, it was that it went far beyond her expectations. In a short amount of time, he had drawn their facial features with a striking accuracy. But what impressed her the most, was the way he had transcribed their body language. He had made the decision to portray them face to face, their mutual fondness evident to anyone who could have taken a peek at the drawing. Jurina found herself deeply moved and thanked him wholeheartedly, determined to find a place at home to hang this piece of art.

  “Wait for me here,” Rena paused in the hotel hallway, and gave Jurina’s shoulder a brief, light squeeze. “I need to go to the reception.”

“Alright.” Jurina gathered at her feet their shopping bags full of French delicacies from the bakeries of Montmartre, and stole a peek at her watch.

When she noted that it was 6 p.m., she let out a short, sad sigh. The day had flown by so fast, that she wished she had the ability to freeze time. Much as she tried her best to forget about it, she got reminded of the imminence of their departure on far too many occasions. No, she wasn’t ready to go back. If only she could extend their stay: visit more monuments, test more French bakeries, and wander around the cobblestone streets of Paris a little longer with her friends and her precious partner.

Glancing back in Rena’s direction, she suddenly caught sight of Mayu’s familiar silhouette entering the hotel. This morning, both couples had split up, having organized their program for the day differently. Jurina waved at her, impatient to learn what their friends had been up to, only to be startled by the large colorful bouquet of flowers Mayu was holding. “What are those for?”

“It’s for Yuki. Today is our 10-year anniversary,” Mayu said.

Jurina was rendered almost speechless by the news. “10 years? I never realized you had been together for so long...”

“We have, and that’s why tonight we’re having a special dinner to celebrate it,” Mayu explained. “I wanted to surprise her with these flowers.”

Jurina found herself touched, and also slightly entertained by her best friend’s love gesture. “My best friend is a romantic after all.”

“Of course I am,” Mayu scoffed, pretending to be offended. “Anyway, what are you doing here? Are you waiting for something?”

“Rena,” Jurina replied, gesturing to the older girl standing by the reception. “You know, I will miss this place.” She swept around the majestic and luxurious marble decoration of the hotel hallway. “The direct view on the Eiffel Tower. The romantic decoration of the room. The gifts every day. If I ever have the chance to come back to Paris, I will definitely stay here.”

“What are you talking about?” Mayu asked, puzzled. “The room is cozy and spacious, but it wouldn’t say it was specifically romantic? And aside from a welcoming letter, we didn’t get any gifts.”

It took Jurina several seconds to shake off the resulting stupefaction. “You didn’t have rose petals spread all over the bed at your arrival?”

Her question was received with a negative nod.

“No gifts?” Jurina insisted. “No cakes? No chocolates? No offered dinners in big restaurants? No free wine tasting? No private visits? Nothing?”

“Eh no,” Mayu replied again. “Trust me, I would have remembered.”

Jurina was beyond confused. “I don’t understand…”

Mayu stared back at her skeptically. “Are you sure you didn’t book a special room or something?”

“I didn’t book it, Rena did,” Jurina clarified. “And she told me that she didn’t-” she stopped mid-way, realization hitting her.

Mayu grinned, and clapped her amiably on the shoulder. “It seems your girlfriend hasn’t been entirely honest with you. Anyway, I have to go. Yuki is waiting for me. Dinner is at 7, and I don’t want to be late!”

Jurina nodded, unable to speak when her best friend drew away, her eyes soon flying up in shock to Rena at the unforeseen revelation.

  Rena was describing how lovely their day had been in Montmartre, but Jurina was anything but attentive. All the way leading to their hotel room, she felt like a naive fool. Rena had assured her that she hadn’t booked a special room, and she had fell for it. The beautiful romantic decoration, the everyday gifts: now everything made sense. It wasn’t due at all to the hotel’s signature as she initially believed.

“Is everything alright?” The sound of Rena’s voice brought her back to reality. “You haven’t listened to a word I’ve been saying,” Rena remarked worriedly, closing the hotel door behind them. “What’s on your mind?”

Jurina flashed a big smile before she answered. “I know everything. The room. The rose petals. The everyday gifts. You’re responsible for all those things.”

Rena stood there briefly, stunned. “How do you… How do you know?”

“I had an interesting talk with Mayu,” Jurina went on, proud to have caught her off guard. “Their room is nothing like ours. They didn’t get all those gifts from the hotel staff. No rose petals, no chocolates, no invitations, nothing. So, there’s no point of hiding the truth from me anymore.”

“I guess you were bound to know about it,” Rena carefully processed her words, then added cheekily. “Well done, you discovered my secret.”

“Why?” Jurina asked, with a mixture of disbelief and happiness. “Why did you do all this for me?”

“I wanted our vacations to be special,” Rena said with unconcealed affection. She placed a hand upon Jurina’s cheek, gently caressing it with her thumb. “To make sure our stay in Paris remained imprinted in our minds and in our hearts forever.”

“But it’s already special,” Jurina whispered, warming from inside. She gathered her into her arms and held her close. “I’m here, with you, in Paris. What more could I ask for?”

  “Yukirin, are you here?” Mayu called, dissimulating the flower bouquet behind her as she entered their hotel room.

“In here!” Yuki shouted inside of the bathroom. “I’ll be ready in 5 min!”

“Take your time,” Mayu replied, trying not to sound too giddy. She examined once more her bouquet of flowers, quite pleased with her selection. Controlling her excitement, she had to stop herself from pacing the room. She could already predict Yuki’s shock when she would discover her present.

A couple of minutes later, the bathroom door flew open. “I know, I’m so sorry I’m late. For some weird reason, the keycard refused to open the door when I arrived, then it’s the hairdryer that wouldn’t work. And finally, when I put my dress on, the zipper refused to close! I was about to lose my mind! Can you imagine? How can someone be so unlucky on their wedding anniversary?!”

“It’s only 6:30 p.m.,” Mayu reassured her.

“It is?!” Yuki asked in disbelief, checking the time. “My God, you’re right. I thought it was much later than that,” she heaved a deep sigh of relief. “Are you…” she leaned to the side, trying to catch a glimpse of Mayu’s back. “Are you hiding something?”

“Those are for you,” Mayu announced proudly, bringing the flowers out of their hideout. “Happy anniversary.”

Yuki stared at her in wonder.

“For me?” Yuki took a step nearer, contemplating them. “They are… so beautiful.” Her eyes glowed with happiness. “Thank you, my Mayuyu.” She brought their lips together in a kiss. “You always manage to surprise me in the most unexpected way. Do you know how much I love you?”

“I love you too,” Mayu’s face brightened.

Yuki cupped her chin, pressing another kiss to her cheek. “Let me finish applying makeup, and we can leave, alright?”

“Alright,” Mayu nodded, smiling. As Yuki reentered the bathroom, she studied her wife in appreciation, then casually leaned against the doorframe. “By the way, you won’t imagine what I discovered. It looks like Rena booked a special romantic room for their stay, and planned gifts and surprises for Jurina every day.”

“She did?” Yuki faced her back in astonishment. “That’s so sweet of her.”

“And you know what’s the funniest thing?” Mayu added wryly. “Jurina didn’t even realize she was behind it all this time.”

“Really?!” Yuki laughed merrily. “You know, I’m beginning to suspect this trip will hold many more surprises.”

“More surprises? What do you mean?” Mayu asked, bewildered.

Yuki gave a conspirational smile. “I don’t know. Just a hunch.”

  “You look…” Jurina paused for a breath, her mouth curving with infinite fondness. “You look so beautiful tonight.”

A telltale blush crept into Rena’s cheeks, giving away her embarrassment. “Will you please stop complimenting me tonight? You haven’t stopped ever since we left the hotel.”

“I can’t help it. This red dress looks so beautiful on you. Everything tonight is just…” she tore her eyes away from her attractive partner, to once more enjoy the view outside the window. “Perfect.”

Yes, this Friday evening was a dream come true. After learning about Rena’s thoughtful tokens of affection, Jurina quickly discovered it was far from the only surprise her girlfriend had been planning for their trip in Paris. Following that, Rena had informed her that they would be having dinner in a new lovely place. Jurina did try to find out more, but Rena had refused to divulge the tiniest bit of information, using her most appealing charms to convince her to wait and be a little more patient.

Jurina could do nothing else but surrender and, choosing her nicest blue evening dress, had followed her without questioning, not believing her eyes when the taxi had stopped them in front of an enchanting Parisian boat on the Seine. The small tables decorated by candle lights. The spectacular view on the Eiffel Tower. The smooth music playing in the air. The waiters attentive to their every need. Every single detail contributed to create the perfect romantic mood.

It was a chic restaurant, but not too uptight, enabling them to remain laidback and casual. The male waiter had barely removed the main dish that the Eiffel Tower began to shine, marking its characteristic nightly illuminations. The sight was so mesmerizing that Jurina was unable to look away, the other customers of the restaurant having also momentarily stopped eating to appreciate the view.

A few evenings ago, she and Rena had been granted with such a breathtaking sight when they had gone on a late stroll to admire the illuminated city by night. Nevertheless, Jurina found herself as equally amazed, never getting tired of admiring the Iron Lady in all its glory and magnificence.

“We’re visiting the Eiffel Tower tomorrow, right?” Jurina asked, recalling how adamant her girlfriend had been on keeping that specific visit for their final day in the French capital.

When she received no immediate reply, she glanced back in her direction, only to distinguish a hint of nervousness in Rena’s brown orbs.

“Is everything alright?” Jurina extended her arm across the table, only to feel Rena’s fingers lightly trembling inside her hand. As she tried to take a grasp of the situation, she was forced to admit that she had noted a subtle shift in her girlfriend’s attitude during the course of dinner. From engaging and smiling, Rena had turned a little quieter and more tense as the evening had progressed.

“Yes, of course.”

The response did nothing to reassure her, not fooled by her girlfriend’s apparent calm. Jurina opened her mouth to speak, but didn’t have the opportunity to say a word that they were interrupted by the arrival of the waiter. “Chocolate-passion sphere, bursts of brownies and crunchy streusel,” he announced, meticulously placing both their desserts in front of each of them.  

“Thank you,” Jurina politely replied.

The male waiter bowed courteously and left, Rena’s previous behavior momentarily falling at the back of her head as Jurina contemplated the chocolate dessert that had been served. A few months ago, she had followed the elaboration of that specific dessert on a cooking show, but never had she had the possibility to taste it. On the right side of the plate, was disposed a white jar filled with hot chocolate. Jurina seized it, dexterously pouring the hot liquid over the top of the sphere. At the contact, the sphere slowly melted, reveling a small square red box hidden inside.

Jurina stared, complete surprise on her face.

She glanced over the other side of the table, only to note that Rena’s dessert remained untouched. When their eyes locked, Rena had a knowing smile mixed with a little bit of apprehension. “Don’t tell me… Don’t tell me you bought me another gift. Really, this is too much. I didn’t even buy you anything.”

“This one is special.”

Jurina felt torn between happiness at the generous displays of affection, and a sense of unease that she didn’t deserve so much. “The romantic hotel room, the everyday gifts, the wonderful restaurants. I’m so touched you did all this for me. But Rena, it wasn’t necessary. Being with you, here in Paris, already makes me the happiest person alive. You do know that, right?”

“Please… Please open it. I promise everything will make sense once you do.”

Jurina didn’t know what to make of her cryptic words. She lowered her gaze to the box, literately feeling the anticipation emanating from the other side of the table as she popped it open. When its content appeared to her, Jurina’s eyes opened wide in shocked disbelief. Inside the red velvet box was a white gold sapphire and diamond ring, along with a message written in gold letters.

Will you marry me?

Jurina’s heart stopped. How long did she stare at the inscription and at the ring, she didn’t know. It was only the feeling of Rena’s fingers gently touching hers that managed to snap her out of her daze. Progressively, she brought her attention back to her, only to see Rena gazing at her with a tender, slightly nervous look.  

“Jurina Matsui, will you spend the rest of your life with me?”

Jurina was rendered utterly and completely speechless. If Rena wasn’t currently holding her hand, she would be convinced to be imagining the whole scene. Despite understanding the words loud and clear, Jurina had a hard time processing what just happened. Was Rena really proposing to her? “No…”

“No? No… to what?”

Rena’s face displayed apprehension.  

“No, I mean,” Jurina quickly came back on her words when she realized what she had uttered without thinking. “I don’t… I don’t understand.”

“What don’t you understand?” Rena was confused.

“I thought…” Jurina paused and maneuvered her thoughts, trying to ignore her heart now beating uncontrollably against her ribs. “I thought you didn’t want to get married. I remember you saying it so many times. You seemed so sure of yourself. So why…”

There was a moment of silence.

“It’s true, I did say it,” Rena said lucidly. “But if there’s one thing that life taught me, it’s that it’s senseless to try so hard to not stray away from a path we strongly believe to be the only correct one.”

Rena thought for a moment, before continuing.

“For so long, I only wanted to focus on my career. Nothing else mattered than to fulfill my biggest dreams and to have a successful professional life. I never planned to share my life with anyone, even less to fall in love. But it happened, with you. When I the least expected it, you awoke feelings within me that I didn’t know existed. For the first time, I realized I didn’t want to do all those things only for myself. I wanted to share them with someone, and that person is you.”

Rena tightened her hold around Jurina’s hand.

“I don’t want us to ever be separated again. When we met each other in last December, and you granted me your unconditional forgiveness, I got back the other half of my heart. The following months we spent together were so blissful. When I asked you to move in together and you said yes, I couldn’t be any happier. But soon enough, I couldn’t shake off the sensation that something was missing to make my life more complete. I was frustrated at myself for failing to put a word on what I was feeling. I could tell you were happy too, so I didn’t understand why a part of me remained unfulfilled. The day Mayu and Yuki announced their engagement, a switch flipped inside me. For the first time, I could see with such vivid clarity.”

Rena’s eyes shone with determination.

“When I witnessed them so delightfully happy at their wedding, surrounded by their loved ones, I knew I wanted to experience such a significant moment with you. My feelings for you have never changed, and they will always remain intact. I want to show you how entirely committed I am to you, and for all the years to come.”

There was a short pause as they looked intently at each other.

“Is it what you went to buy on the Champs Elysées?” Jurina whispered in breathless amazement, her voice thick with emotion. “What you didn’t want me to see?”

“It is,” Rena confessed. “A few weeks ago, I called the shop from Tokyo to choose the design, and had it personally handmade. The difficult part was to retrieve it without you discovering about it.”

Jurina could hear nothing else but the wild thumping of her heart, holding back the tears threatening to come to her eyes. It was too easy to get lost in the way Rena looked at her, with a love and dedication that almost flipped her heart over. “I love you,” Jurina leaned forward across the table, quickly pressing her lips against hers. “I love you, Rena. I love you so much.”

They shared a long, slow, tender kiss.

“I love you too,” Rena whispered, affectionately caressing her cheek. “But…” There was a momentary hesitation before she added. “You haven’t answered. Are you ready to take this next step in our relationship? Will you marry me?”

“There’s no one I love more than you,” Jurina felt as if her heart would burst with joy. “You are not just my soulmate; you are the love of my life. I can’t imagine my life without you. Yes, I will. I will marry you.”

Elation suffused Rena’s whole being.

This time, Rena was the one to smash their lips together, kissing her passionately. In that précised instant, it was as if the world had evaporated around them, none of them caring about the curious, amused looks directed at her. All that mattered was the two of them, their hearts beating in unison with the promise of an eternal future together.

[soobadnoonecanstopher]

All His - Part 9 (A Kyungsoo Series)

Genre: Fluff / Smut (18+)

Characters: You X Kyungsoo

Description: You are hired as an interpreter for a tour in Europe where you join forces with EXO and soon grow closer to one member in particular, Do Kyungsoo.

A/N: I don’t even know anymore, but graphic smut.

Warnings: teasing, rough sex, dirty talk, unprotected sex, slight cumplay, cockwarming

All His [M]: Canon AU - Fluff / Smut part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7, part 8 , part 9 , part 10 , part 11 FINAL

Your hands were trembling.

What an absolutely silly human being you were.

As if this was something new. As if you hadn’t been with him just that day, in the back of that truck. With his lips on your skin and his body heat pressed up against yours. Yet now, with his hotel key card sitting in the palm of your hand, held down by trembling fingers connected to trembling hands and a nervous tension wound so tight inside your chest, this particular tension felt different somehow.

It felt, simply, more.

Maybe it was the fragility of it all; this fleeting thing that was held together with threads. One thread for the undeniable attraction. Some threads, already busted, like when Baekhyun caught you both making out in the parking lot of the tiny village in Montserrat. That was the secret, and it was blown.

One brazen thread for the audacity of it. That you would dare to do this; against your job, against his job, against your better judgment, and against the ticking clock. One thread for having done it in the first place and one more for the stupidity you had inside of you to do it again, even when you knew...when you knew it would end. When you knew he would leave on a final flight back to Korea and you would leave on a flight back home and then what?

What would be left?

Your fragile insides would surely spill out as the final ineffective hold burst under the pressure.

You knew. You had to have known it would hurt.

Lust, desire, attraction, want; they were all powerful motivators, but above all, the strongest force that drove you that night as you went through the motions of getting ready for bed, was denial. You showered, you changed into the comfiest pajamas in your arsenal, which also just happened to be brand spanking new and just given to you from his own bag. You were shameless as you generously applied your favorite lotion over your scrubbed and smoothed skin and never even took a second glance toward your own luggage. You would wear his clothes. You would make them smell like you and if he wanted them back he would have to take them off himself. For now, your heart leaped around inside your chest because they still smelled just like Kyungsoo.

The hallways were mostly empty. You didn't see any faces you recognized as you made your way down the elevator to his floor and you milled around the ice machine in the hallway waiting for a small cluster of tourists to enter a room at the end of the hall.

It didn’t even matter if they saw you going into his room. They didn't know you, or him, or even which room you were supposed to be going into and which you were certainly, completely, and absolutely, supposed to stay out of but your heartbeat was echoing noisily inside your ears and that trembling in your hands made you nearly drop the keycard when you lifted it up to insert it into the door lock. Your imagination made time slow down and you stared down at the red light on the door and waited for what felt like an entire lifetime for it to turn green.

At last, it did. Of course, it did, and you were careful to turn the handle as quietly as you could as you slipped around the space of the open door and closed it quickly behind you.

The room was dark and quiet inside. The shades on the window were pulled and the bed was freshly made with only a single lamp on the bedside table illuminating the room in a soft glow.

This felt new. A new kind of quiet. A new kind of softness; his bed, his pillows, his remote control. His cell phone charger plugged into the wall next to the bed where he slept. The newness followed you as you made your way to the bathroom.

His toothbrush sat on the side of the sink. His toothpaste tube was half squeezed, flattened carefully from the bottom up. Your fingertips trailed lightly over the surface of the countertop. It was clean and dry, most likely from the maid service, you knew, but here you were, picking up his toothbrush and putting it back down simply because you could. Because he had invited you in here. He had given you the key with his own two hands and he told you with his own voice, spoken in that low sexy way he spoke to you to wait for him in here tonight.

You reached for the water and turned on the faucet and the water flowed freely down into the sink. The same faucet he used that very morning as he got ready for the day with you. As you stood in front of the bathroom mirror, your own reflection looked back and your memory of him in his suit and bow-tie placed him in the same spot where you stood. That would have been this morning. Before it happened. When he was still this untouchable enigma of a person.

A question without yet an answer.

But now, knowing what you knew. Having done what you had done, and standing right here in this bathroom as you were, the answer was lucid and explicit. Open and palpable.

How long did you have until he arrived? He promised, no more than a couple of hours and you had taken plenty of time getting ready in your own room before you worked up the courage to take the elevator down to his floor and walk your own two legs down his hallway to insert that card into his door lock and find yourself standing inside his bathroom, touching his toothbrush, smushing the toothpaste around inside the tube and putting it back in a much less put-together position and acting like a general weirdo for absolutely no reason at all other than that you simply could.

Your curiosity waned. The bathroom was a very normal bathroom with no mind-blowing secrets about the man to be found. This was only a hotel after all and there was only so much to be touched in here before even your own weirdness became a bit too much for you.

You made your way out of the bathroom, moving toward the bed that sat in front of the television, wondering if there was anything on the tv to distract you from the butterflies that flew around frantically inside your belly.

You sat on the bed, crossing your legs in front of you and gripped the remote control to turn on the tv.

What you saw on the screen definitely served as a distraction. Without even changing the channel, you saw that the tv was left on one of the premium movie channels. It looked like one of the programs you had heard about from HBO but had yet to watch and you had arrived sometime in the middle of an episode. From what you could see it was very mature in both language and mood and you watched for a few minutes as unknown characters moved about the screen.

Your confusion as to what was actually happening prompted you to lift the remote as you were frankly too distracted in mind to focus on what was happening with the complex plot without knowing any backstory when the scene on the screen abruptly changed. You were about to change it, you really were, but your hand froze on the button out of genuine surprise. The next scene, inexplicably, was a sex scene...and wow a very graphic one, there was more nudity than you were used to seeing without any build up and on such a big screen in front of you. They were loud, the volume on the tv was up high and the heavy breathing and rhythmic grunting filled the space of the room. More surprising than what you saw were the sounds you heard. The loud slapping of their bodies together was carnal and vulgar and you lifted a hand to cover your open mouth as you sat, frozen and transfixed by what you saw.

Was this the kind of thing he watched in his hotel room late a night?

“What in the world are you watching right now?” The question was spoken from somewhere beside you, definitely in the very same room as you, and definitely spoken from the lips of another living breathing human being. The shock made you gasp right out loud through your hand that was already covering your open mouth.

You half spun, half tipped to the side and quickly shot your leg out to the floor to keep from tumbling right off the bed and Do Kyungsoo, the very real and very very quiet (why so fucking quiet Kyungsoo? You didn't even hear him enter) was watching you from the small hallway beside the kitchenette area. His arms sat, quite judgingly, crossed over his chest and the black duffle back he carried over his shoulder slowly slipped down to hang from his bent elbow.

“Are you watching porn on my tv?”

The room was vibrating. You reached for the remote again. You must have lost it in the near tumble and as you ran both hands over the softness of his bedspread to find it while simultaneously trying to keep both of your eyes on that man who absolutely had the wrong idea about what you were doing in his room right now.

His duffle bag fell and he let it, before taking two quick steps forward and reaching down to the floor at the foot of the bed where he reached for the remote. You hadn’t even heard it hit the floor earlier.

“I wasn’t watching it. It was just on that channel when I turned it on.” Your voice sounded high and panicky and you lifted a hand to lay over your own chest to try and calm the storm. You knew you sounded guilty, but it honestly was the shock of his unimaginably bad timing. You also did not like the way he was looking at you with those dark eyebrows lifted up high on his forehead and his lips pulled into a straight line.

He raised the remote to the tv, pressed a button that made the info pop up onto the screen and you inhaled a deep steadying breath as your story was corroborated. It was just HBO. It wasn’t anything super incriminating like the Playboy Channel or, god forbid, a pay-per-view adult film. His eyebrows dropped when he saw the guide information and he glanced at you after a quiet moment.

“I guess I could ask what you were watching last night, Do Kyungsoo,” you said with your own eyes wide and your chin lifted and he tossed the remote back down onto the bed beside you with what looked to be a bit of an eye roll.

“I was watching a movie. You do know that the television programming keeps playing even after you turn it off, right?”

That sounded like an extremely plausible explanation, actually, and now that you considered it, you recalled watching a good movie the evening before on your tv as well. It was probably the same movie and probably the exact same channel. He took a step then, his knees reaching the foot of the bed in front of where you still sat with your hand over the remote and your eyes glancing every now and then at the couple on the screen that seemed to be done with their fucking and were now discussing some political scheme as they casually walked around the room naked, not even bothering to dress themselves.

When he leaned toward you, your focus was suddenly entirely on him and those dark eyes that moved slowly over your face, lingering for a bit too long on your lips that still hung open. You caught a movement in his hand out of the corner of your eye and you followed him as he reached for the zipper of your hoodie, actually his hoodie, that you wore. He gripped the metal tab and pulled it down slowly as his eyes watched the small bit of skin he exposed with the action. Perhaps you were playing dirty by wearing nothing else underneath. But he was definitely playing along by unzipping you right now. That is until he stopped pulling and let go right above where the soft curve of your breasts began.

“Actually, you might be more interested in what I watched before the movie.” His eyes were still down on the skin below your neck but his voice had lowered both in volume and in tone. You could feel a slow building of heat on your skin radiating from where his hand left off. It spread like fire over your skin below the hoodie.

“You know, you could always press the ‘recall’ button on the remote to see for yourself. Who knows, you might like it.” When his eyes finally pulled back up to look into your face, you were pretty sure you hadn’t taken a single breath of air into your lungs since he had walked in and caught you watching a graphic sex scene on his own bed and with his own tv.

“I’m just going to jump in the shower real quick.” Kyungsoo winked, actually fucking winked once, and the entire room was swimming. You inhaled a trembling yet satisfying breath of air as he turned on his heels and headed for the other piece of luggage you saw sitting near the closet.

You reached for the remote in your hand and indeed there was a button labeled ‘recall’.

You bit down on your bottom lip, thoroughly torn about your next course of action.

This had to be fake right? You would press the button and nothing would happen. The tv had been off right? The light on the box connected to the tv though, that had definitely been on. You were sure that the tv had been the only thing to click on when you first began this ridiculous journey.

He was unzipping the bag in front of the closet and you were pretty sure you had never seen him move this slowly before. You looked from the remote to the tv screen a couple of times as you contemplated your next move.

“Oh just push it, we both know you’re dying of curiosity. I wonder if Kyungsoo really watches those things...does he really cut his hair twice a day? I wonder if he’s into anything kinky … I know you want to find out.”

He wasn’t at all looking at you as he spoke, even making his voice higher as he did some vague imitation of what you might have sounded like if you actually asked these questions out loud. You knew he had to be joking, but you felt like your entire face was on fire. It was as if the man had somehow plugged directly into your brain and was asking the questions you kept hidden deep down in your body where you kept all of the dirtiest thoughts you had about him.  Perhaps he wasn’t as removed from the inner thoughts of the average fangirl as you had been led to believe all along.

Your thumb hovered over the button and with a half inhale and a brace of your body, you pushed down.

The television responded and the channel changed. You heard sounds first, saw bright colors second and your mind took only a hint of a moment to recognize the bright colorful world of Gumball, a silly cartoon character that was popular with middle-school aged boys.

You heard his laughter third. Deep belly laughs sounded out as he doubled over his open suitcase.

“You—” he inhaled once and laughed through the words, “—you pervert, what were you thinking right now? Something dirty right?”

His laughter continued and he stood up, a hand on his belly and his eyes closed up into half moons and his laughter turned more silent as he giggled to himself, shaking his head back and forth with each quiet chuckle. You, on the other hand, you wanted to throw something at him. How dare he tease you like this? What was worse was that your mind had been racing through the various perverted possibilities right before you pressed that button, and now, with his quiet laughter and enjoyment of the situation, your quiet embarrassment felt like the biggest confession.

Your silence was incriminating enough and you huffed in his general direction before pretending to turn your attention back to the cartoon. It was noisy and it was dumb. You kind of wanted to go back to the show with the random sex scenes peppered with complex plots and schemes if you could somehow do so without the judgment.

He was back in front of you now, the laughter had quieted down, you felt the warmth of his fingers as he wrapped a hand around yours, the one holding that damn remote control. When he pressed down again, it was on that same ‘recall’ button and the channel switched back.

“You can enjoy your porn for a little while longer while I shower,” he said with a grin and he quickly spun and left the room for the bathroom before you could tell him that, dammit, it wasn’t porn. It was really not!

It didn’t matter. After a few short minutes the shower was running and you were pretty sure you could hear him singing the lyrics to that Spanish song they would be performing at the concert tomorrow night. From what you could hear he had the pronunciation and the words down perfectly and you predicted that tomorrow’s performance would be smooth and flawless. There was a tiny swell of pride inside your chest for the small role you had played in this; with all the effort on pronunciation you had both put in over the last couple of days, hearing the wonderful results with your own ears was some sort of magic.

When the shower turned off, you waited as you tried to keep your eyes on the program that still played on the television. It might as well have been playing in another language because you honestly couldn't focus on a damn thing except for the silence in that bathroom.

Your brain played images for you. An intimate space where he dried the droplets of moisture off every bit of his skin; the steam swirling around his body as trails of water dripped down his neck from his still wet hair; the towel, clutched in his strong hands would move deftly over his skin, covering and uncovering new bits with each pass it made until the only bit that remained wet--

“Hey, wake up--” someone laughed somewhere in the room and your daydream crinkled with static from the interruption. Something flew from the bathroom door and hit you square in your chest and you grunted and reached your hands out too late to stop it. It was something white and plastic and you looked down as it fell into the palms. His toothpaste. And it really was quite smashed up now that you really looked at it.

“--did you do that? Wow, you’re really doing all sorts of things in my hotel room.” When you looked back up into his face you saw it. It was skin. It was a lot of skin and it was Kyungsoo’s skin. He was just as wet as you had imagined he would be after a shower and he fisted a towel around his waist that covered him well from the waist down, but the skin of his chest. His torso, his abdomen with the lightest of light outline of abs, sweet Jesus this man was going to be the end of you. Nipples. You were doomed. He had nipples. Of course, he had them, you saw them before but--

A quick fingersnap pulled you out of it and you forced your eyes to look up into his questioning ones. His finger was raised and pointed in your direction.

“--what were you thinking about again? I called you like three times. Tell me the truth; you’re imagining weird things again, right?”

Honestly, you didn't know whether to admit or deny so you stared ahead at his pretty face and kept your mouth tightly closed with a tiny bite on the inside of your lips, in case your silly brain decide to betray you right now.

Your silence was all the evidence he needed and his playful smile slowly dropped as he let his hand move down to join the other that held the towel around his waist and he joined you in the tense silence. Kyungsoo inhaled a short breath and his eyes closed for a moment as he bit down on the inside of his cheek for a spell and without saying another word he returned to the bathroom, not even bothering to close the door behind him.

You saw movement in the corner of the bathroom mirror. The white towel fell away and he reached for the clothing that sat folded on the countertop, bent at the waist to pull up clean boxers and stood as he pulled them up. Your feet had you moving without any effort on your part; the pull to him was entirely too strong. He was an entire planet and you had been caught in his gravity for much too long to resist.

If your presence at the doorway surprised him, he made no indication of it. He merely adjusted the waistband of his boxers carefully as if the elastic had to be placed just so...just perfectly, his fingertips ran along the stretch until he was satisfied with the fit and you really had to admire the roundness of his ass in those underwear.

Your admiration of his physical form took its time. You let your eyes wander slowly and casually, paying special attention to certain bits that always intrigued you when you saw the clothed version in pictures. The dip at the small of his back. The indent along his spine where his back muscles flowed seamlessly upward to his shoulders, and his arms, thick yet slight. He felt compact and strong in his own beautiful color that made your chest swell on the inside with the amount of affection you felt for him.

At last, you made it up to his neck. Then to his ear, peeking around to his side profile before you felt the pull, much stronger now, from the reflection in the mirror.

It was the eyes. His big brown eyes, simmering now with a dark intensity as he watched the reflection of you watching him without restraint or shame. When you found those eyes you lost your breath and leaned harder against the frame of the bathroom doorway and found relief only when you blinked your eyes to shut him out. You felt the heat, mostly concentrated on your face, but your neck and your chest tingled with the increase of warm blood flow below the surface of your skin and your memory flashed with him.

His lips kissing yours; his eyes claiming your skin for himself; his fingertips digging deep into your thighs as he pushed his dick inside of you over and over again and the heat from your chest spread like lightning down the length of you. Unlike a lonely tree in a field, your body had no outlet for the spark. You weren't at all grounded right now and the unspent energy only ricocheted around inside of you and settle somewhere around the middle, festering and demanding to be quenched.

There was a slow sigh from him and you saw him reach forward, placing both hands on the countertop with his eyes closed and he rocked into the lean.

“Okay,” he said through his closed eyes and the breath from his lungs expelled slowly through furrowing of his brows as he let go of the counter, righted himself again and turned toward you, “--okay.” He repeated as if you had asked him anything at all to warrant this and he felt wound up. Just as much as you felt wound up inside your chest as you tried to breathe through it and force yourself to relax. It was useless though. You felt inflated to the breaking point. One touch might be all you needed to burst.

The soft curve of his fingertips connected with the palm of your hand and you melted into it, your fingers gripped his hand tightly the second he touched you. If one touch of his hand did this to you, how much more could you even stand?

He was moving though; his hand gripped yours and he pulled you from the bathroom doorway around toward the bed and you felt like your legs might not make it all the way. Certainly, if it weren't for him directing you, you would simply collapse onto the floor of this hotel room.

You expected him to kiss you. You craved it like the air and yet you felt too flustered to do much of anything but move when he steered you around, to face him at the side of his bed. You felt his other hand grip your other arm and there was a gentle motion to urge you to sit on the bed in front of him.

You sat, just as he wanted you to sit. You sat where he placed you and your skin burned where his hands left your arms in your own lap and he turned, giving you his bare back for a moment as he reached into the drawer by the nightstand for something.

Was it a condom? Was he already going to...just like that…

It was a phone. A different phone, it seemed, than the company phone he usually carried around with him, this one had a plain black phone case and had a thin crack that ran along the side of the glass. It was rougher and more worn looking than the other.

With this phone in his hand now, he moved to sit in an armchair only a few feet away from where you sat on the bed yet facing you. He looked down at the phone in his lap and his fingers moved as he typed out a password to unlock it.

“Kyungsoo, what is that?” You knew it was a phone. You knew it was his kinda old, personal phone, but you meant the question in a more existential way. What was the phone doing out and why was he doing this right now in front of you as he wore only boxers with a very clear bulge that strained against the fabric, and why did he place you here on the bed, far away from him? What was it and why was it?

“If we are doing this,” He began speaking and you closed your lips, watching him intently for whatever it was that was so damn important it required two separate sitting spots when all you wanted to do was have your way with him on this very bed. “--if we are really going to try this, seeing each other like this, seriously and intimately, then...then I have to tell you something.”

His words sent a wave of cool air over your head. The resulting chill made your arms lift as you crossed them over your chest to warm yourself.

You didn't like those words. You didn't like the scary implications of them and you definitely didn't like that they were obviously significant enough to interrupt this.

“What is it?” Your tone must have startled him because his eyes looked up into yours quickly as he lifted a single hand to wave his fingers into the air.

“Settle down, I’m not...married or anything weird like that,” he said with his brows lifted and his eyes wide, “--it’s just that...remember when I said I found your facebook and I was ...kinda sorta obsessed with you for a month?”

You didn't quite know what to do with your face, but the breath you were holding landed somewhere inside your mouth and inflated your cheeks as you watched him work up whatever nerve he had to work up to tell you what he was about to tell you.

“--I mean...but you were obsessed with me for like a year so...I mean--” the phone was down on his lap now and he lifted another hand, the other figurative hand to demonstrate your obsession versus his obsession and his eyes moved slowly between the two hands before he closed his eyes and shook his head.

“--okay well the way that I found your facebook was by searching your email address … and I also found your Tumblr by searching your email address way back then before you deleted it and replaced it with the kitties blog and I kinda sorta maybe have a shit-ton of screen shots of the things you said about me in your tags, but not all of it but a lot of it was really fucking filthy but also really fucking funny, but some of them I saved because I wanted to ask you what it means...”

He spoke faster than you had ever heard him speak in his entire life and you watched the words fly out of his lips in such a manner that made your head spin. He was speaking in Korean. He was doing it very very quickly and when he spoke with you, he usually didn’t go this fast. He definitely didn't have as much to hide before as he obviously did now. And perhaps the nerves simply got the best of him but it honestly took you a goddamn minute of staring at his squinting eyes, and the grimace on his lips to realize what he had just dropped in your goddamn lap.

It was the phone. And it was open with a photo gallery of screenshots from...yes...from your old Tumblr blog. Dear Lord...

Your fingers tapped on the images and you saw your own words screaming back at you. Things you said while mindlessly reblogging images of Kyungsoo.

Kyungsoo wearing glasses. Kyungsoo eating ice cream. Kyungsoo eating that damn spoon of yogurt. Kyungsoo dancing in the red suit. It went on and on. The pictures weren’t what he saved. He didn't care about the pictures, but what you saw was his main focus: your words.

The bed beside you dipped as he sat beside and you could feel him peering down over your shoulder as you scrolled through the gallery of screenshots. Whatever bit of cool air you felt earlier was gone. You were certainly on fire now. Burning in the pits of hell, to be precise.

Most of it was mindless fangirling. Key smashes and curse words with the occasional sexual comment thrown in. Declarations of him being the love of your life was a common theme. Asking important questions like, when would he finally let you suck his dick, or wondering if he would maybe like to choke you with it sometime.

You heard giggles erupting from beside you as he read over your shoulder and the bed trembled with his laughter.

“I wish you wouldn't say you wanted to die so many times. There has to be another way to say that. And I would never punch you in the face.”

You kept scrolling, feeling a weird sort of nostalgia as you recognized quite a few of the posts from the blog and he reached down to scroll back to one of the images you passed.  

“That one. What do those stars mean? ‘I can’t wait for him to star star star me.’ what is that word?”

You stared ahead of yourself at the emptiness of the hotel room in front of you. There was a clock on the wall of the kitchen area that told you it was past 1 in the morning now. Much too fucking late to be having an existential crisis, although was there ever really a good time for one?

“I thought about this one a lot. It can’t be ‘eat’ because you’ve said that one before without the stars. It has to be something bad. Sometimes you censor the word ‘fuck’ I think, but that has four letters. Maybe it’s an English word that I don't know yet.” He inhaled once through his teeth, shaking his head as he considered your meaning. You figured he had probably thought about this one extensively with the way he seemed to be fixated on it.

“I think I need my translator for this one.” Your leg was shaking now as you bounced away the tension you felt inside your body. You had long since dropped the phone from your face and contemplated many things about the way you had lived your life up until this point.

Could you possibly...just run?

You bit down hard on your lip. Your lips were sealed and this man wouldn't be able to open them tonight. No way. Not a chance.

When you crossed your arms over your chest, it was for good. And when you looked over at the man beside you who watched and waited for you to speak, your body was instantly closed up like a brick wall had been carefully constructed around you. This was your wall. It was stout and impenetrable.

You shook your head at him and his eyes changed when he saw you finally respond.

There was a head tilt then. There was a hand at your side and you felt fingertips run along the fabric of your hoodie until he reached the bottom hem and slipped cold fingertips below the fleece.

“Don’t make me find another translator to tell me, I don't like any other translators.” His fingers slipped further and you closed your eyes as his hand opened over the skin of your belly. You cursed yourself for wearing nothing below this hoodie.

Kyungsoo was leaning and you turned your head away from him. You inhaled a deep breath that did absolutely nothing and you felt the softness of his lips reach for the bit of skin you had exposed with your movement.

“I was going to tickle you until you told me, but I think kisses might work better,” he whispered against your skin and the breath that escaped with his words peppered over the moistened skin below your ear that his mouth had just tasted.

You had to turn into his lips. He was too powerful and you could feel the wetness of his hair against your skin as he moved. When you turned your head he found your cheek with his lips; then your chin and you felt the gravity consuming you again as his mouth opened over yours and you felt those lips over your own.

The gravity of Kyungsoo wasn't the only force you gave in to. The bed pulled you down into the softness of pillows and blankets and you felt him follow you. Or was the one to push you down? The kiss changed from slow and asking to deep and demanding and you heard the slide of a zipper a second before the cool air of the room hit your exposed skin. His hands roamed freely over your skin and your own hands reached for him, pulling him around his waist until his hips settled between your own parted legs and you could feel the unbearable heat between.

“Are you really not going to tell me what it means, baby?” He finally pulled away from your mouth, leaving you behind for the kisses he placed along your jawline, over the soft skin of your neck, and lower as the tip of his tongue dipped below the space behind your earlobe a second before his teeth bit down and pulled.

You made a sound. A whimper from deep inside and the bricks that had built up your resolve to never give in were tumbling with every nibble of his teeth. He was much lower now, kissing and nibbling on the flesh of your breasts.

“Raw,” you said. “R - A - W, Kyungsoo,” you whispered it into the wet hair on the top of his head and you felt his mouth release your nipple that he had been sucking on so he could look up into your face when you spoke.

“Raw?” he said and his lips glistened with the same moisture that cooled over your skin and left goosebumps in its wake. “What does that mean?” You could tell he wasn’t faking this. He had no idea. It was slang and he was more than welcome to look it up for himself in the dictionary if he wanted to. There was no way you were saying any more on the topic.

You shrugged and found the moment to slip your arms out of the hoodie that now lay shed on the bed below you.

“It just means something that isn’t cooked Kyungsoo, it’s nonsense.”

“Do you think I was born yesterday? You’re a pervert. There’s got to be another meaning.”

His phone sat just out of your reach, near your left knee on the bed and his hand was flying to retrieve it. Even with you, half-naked and in his bed; even with his dick hard and separated from you by only two layers of easily dealt-with fabric; even with the way you tightened your legs around his waist and pulled him in to you, making sure he felt the heat and wetness between your legs through every little bit of clothing; the man was still as stubborn as could be. He was tapping and scrolling on that phone, grunting to himself as you squeezed your thighs and pulled, and even pushing with his hips a little bit for the relief of the friction and all at once his face changed.

You saw his mouth moving. He was reading. Then he was licking his lips and his mouth stopped moving and simply hung open for a second before he locked the phone and tossed it away to the other side of the enormous bed.

He was still between your legs. You still had them wrapped around his waist to keep him from running away, or deciding that you were completely insane and needed to be arrested. But he wasn't trying to push away. He wasn't backing up and getting you out of his bed even after reading all of your knee-jerk, gut reactions to the intense attraction you had always felt for him.

Kyungsoo took his damn time with it and with each passing second of him not looking at you, not reacting and not moving in anyway that got him out of those underwear and you out of these sweatpants drove you just a little bit closer to the cliff you had been dancing along since you walked into this hotel room.

This was beyond want. You would probably suffer some serious damage if he didn't make some sort of move right now.

When he moved, it was to sit up further onto his ankles and his eyes were still trained down onto the comforter as his eyes flitted back and forth, his mind working through the information your translation had given him.

“You used it a lot,” he said in a voice low enough in tone to rattle your bones at the core, “...raw—“ he repeated the word and his focus snapped into your eyes, taking what little breath you had in your lungs and squeezing hard enough to make you gasp futility in for air. His warm palms moved now, his hands rested on your knees before they moved slowly down your outer thighs. Your legs had gone slack with the wait and yet his slow motion over your skin made them want to tremble and quake.

When he moved again he was a flow of skin and heat that spread from your thighs up over the skin of your belly, coating your breasts with his hands and he pressed his skin over your own, pressing you down into the soft blankets that lined his bed.

He overwhelmed; touching you everywhere, with every inch of skin that coated yours and his mouth followed his hands until his lips claimed yours again, pushing his tongue deep inside your mouth before he pulled back again, biting hard on your bottom lip before pulling your tongue into his mouth to taste you.

“Take off the pants,” he said with a glance into your eyes. The only response was your hands moving and he lifted himself up long enough for you to push down the waist of the sweatpants. You could feel your own substantial wetness, a shocking admission to yourself as your legs rubbed together during the movement.

You felt drunk on arousal. Your head swam when he returned to his place between your legs only this time, without the clothing, he had also removed his boxers and when his skin met your skin, the wetness between your legs let him slip in between your folds much too easily.

“Fuck,” he cursed, “do you have an idea what you are doing to me? I have so many things I want to do to you and you just say things like that so easily, without even knowing the effect you’re having on me.”

With his words, his hips rolled forward and you could feel the tip of him slipping dangerously close to your entrance with each pass, yet he pulled back, again and again, making you crazy with want as he did it. Your arms wrapped around his shoulders and your fingers dug into the firm muscles that tensed in his back.

“I can feel the effect, Kyungsoo. Fuck me,” you begged against his cheek, whispering into his ear.

He groaned against your neck and pushed up. You squeezed your arms around him tighter, not wanting him to leave your embrace just yet. He was strong and a hand reached behind his neck, pulling your arm free so he could move, he pinned the offending arm down against the bed just beside your head and he was free enough to move where he wanted to move. His eyes cast down between your bodies, to where they met but refused to join as one and he gripped a hand around his erection and you felt him guiding himself; this time with purpose, he pushed the tip of his cock against your entrance. You felt the ghost of a stretch. The threat, sitting there waiting to fuck you, yet stubbornness was a primary feature of Kyungsoo’s personality.

His lips parted, his eyes rolled back and he breathed heavily from his mouth as he did it and you saw a flinch on his face when he pulled back out again.

“Fuck fuck, that feels good, oh fuck, what am I going to do? I want to fuck you so badly like this.” It sounded like begging. It sounded like complaining. It was driving you insane, “...oh god you’re so fucking wet,” he added as he pushed the tip of his cock once again into your entrance.

“Kyungsoo, I swear to God, if you don’t—” your patience had vanished and so had his own when you felt him brace a hand against your thigh with fingers digging in hard he pushed with his hips and you felt him push inside of you, this time, nearly completely. He pushed and you gasped with your words suddenly gone from your lips as he filled you. There was a pause in his movement before you felt him push again, filling you completely and he dropped from his ankles to claim your lips within his eager mouth.

“How dare you,” he growled into your open lips when he broke the kiss. The darkness in his voice was menacing and unbelievably sexy, “how fucking dare you put this thought into my head. I’ve been holding back so much and now I just want to fuck you like you want me to. Like you’ve been begging me to.”

It was all too much. You had been teased and tortured for too long that the moment he entered you, you could feel the tension inside your body wound too tightly and when he picked up his pace, you knew you were lost. The sex was satisfyingly noisy; filling the room around you with sinful sounds of flesh slapping against flesh; rivaling the noise of sex scene on that damn tv program that had been long forgotten in the background. You could already feel your climax rising with each rough slap into you and you were having trouble processing words right now.

“Do you like this? Is this what you wanted? You like feeling my dick inside of you with no condom? God, you were so desperate for it.” He growled into your ear again before you felt his teeth bite down hard on your shoulder and you gasped into the pain, whining into it as you struggled to breathe through the weight of him over your chest. 

“Do you want me to cum inside of you too? Or do you still want me to cum all over your face? I can’t decide. You would look so pretty choking on my dick.”

“C-Cum in—” it didn't matter where he came because you were already lost. His hand was between your legs now, he was urging you to cum with low whispers into your ear, “cum for me, baby, cum around my cock, I want to feel you,” and you let go of your restraints as you gave in to the peak that ate you up, made you tremble around him with him stilling inside of you as you tightened and trembled. You had no time to recover because he was pulling out quickly, an urgency in his voice as he spoke again.

“Get on the floor. On your knees. You can be my filthy cumslut just like you’ve always wanted to be,” you moved quickly, although still dizzy, you felt blindsided by his capacity for dirty talk. His words felt unfiltered and shocking in their impact on you.

You bent on wobbling legs you hit the floor fast and he stood in front of you, dick red and wet, you could see the fresh droplets of wetness formed on his head. You opened your mouth and let him inside.

The taste was primal, just like sex and you tasted your own orgasm on his dick coupled with the bitter taste of his pre-cum as he pushed deep into your mouth, your tongue cupped the underside of his dick and you felt his hands on the back of your head when his hips moved forward again. He pushed hard, holding your head at the temples in two hands, the head of his cock hit your soft palate and you tried to relax, tried to breathe through it and tried not to gag from the sensation. A small sound came through from the back of your throat, a gag and then a grunt as his dick pushed in hard again and he moaned to hear the sounds you made as he held on too tight and fucked your mouth. You felt the tremors inside his flesh rippling over your tongue and as he came it hit the back of your throat.

He came in waves, his leg muscles constricted with each spurt of hot liquid. Your mouth felt full as the taste hit the back of your tongue with a strong bitterness that made you want to swallow away the taste quickly, yet you held off until you could suck out every drop from him.

“Open up, let me see,” he said when he pulled out and you did as you were told, making sure the thick white liquid that sat heavily on the top of your tongue could be seen. You felt a trace amount spill out of the corner of your mouth and you tilted your head back too late to keep it all inside. His fingers landed below your chin and pushed your jaw closed.

“Swallow.” His thumb ran along the dribble of cum that was lost and he gripped your chin and squeezed down so you could open up and show him your tongue again. When you opened your mouth, his thumb slowly ran over the surface of your tongue and you bit down and sucked lightly on the digit.

He watched your face with dark eyes and a heaving in his chest that thrust him into a still silence.

Your mouth was empty and Kyungsoo was staring into your face, blinking slowly again and again in silence.

“You might actually be too fucking much,” he said at last and his lips pulled into a spent grin that complimented the chuckle that escaped from your own lips.

The lightness broke the spell and you made your way to his bathroom to clean up.

You emerged with a bit of a question on your mind. Would you stay the night? Didn’t he say he wanted you to earlier? But if someone came looking for him in the morning, certainly you being in his bed would be frowned upon considering this was all still a secret.

There wasn’t much of a chance for you to weigh the pros and cons of sleeping in his bed tonight...actually sleeping that is, because when you came out of the bathroom he was already tucked in, but moved onto the other side this time.

As you took a step toward him he lifted an arm, bringing the blanket up with it, a clear and definite invitation and you smiled despite knowing that this was probably a bad idea all around. You still crawled under the covers and the comfort of his still very much naked body pressed up against yours. He was warmth. He was Kyungsoo...but this time he was very much your Kyungsoo and when you turned around to get comfortable, you found that you molded into his shape perfectly when he hugged you from behind, placing a row of soft kisses along the line of your neck to the tip of your shoulder and then back up again.

“Is it okay that I sleep here tonight?” Your voice already sounded heavy with sleep and you hoped the answer was yes because you couldn't see it in yourself to get out of this bed.

“Mhmm,” he hummed against your back and his grip on your hips tightened as he pulled you closer to his body, “I want you as close to me as possible.”

The desperation was back in his voice. He sounded so sleepy and yet the grip of his hands pulled you, again and again, needing to somehow feel closer, yet unable to actually find any satisfaction.

You could feel it too and so you scooted your back into him, arching and closing the millimeter of distance between. Wanting and needing more, you finally lifted your leg some as he slipped himself between your legs, slipping inside your folds, you felt him, half hard still from the sex earlier, he mingled with your residual wetness and gave a tiny push that allowed him to enter you just enough, despite not being hard, and despite this not being about the sex anymore. He was inside you again where he wanted to remain.

Finally satisfied with the closeness he gripped your breast with one hand and settled his chin over the crook of your neck and you felt your consciousness fading with the comfort of him. His breathing evened out and he fell asleep a few breaths before you gave in and did the same.

Asleep in his arms, in his bed, and exactly where you wanted to be.

[To Be Continued…]

All His [M]: Canon AU - Fluff / Smut part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7, part 8 , part 9 , part 10 , part 11 FINAL

[socialdegreemaster675]

academic essay writer

About me

Professional Essay Writers Online For Brilliant A+ Grade Academic Essays

Professional Essay Writers Online For Brilliant A+ Grade Academic Essays You might spend valuable hours failing to realize the desired progress. We know that scholar life can become miserable when you don’t please professors and fail to achieve your learning potential. Constant strain mixed with lack of time and motivation make a recipe for an academical disaster. Our essay writers imagine that the important thing to a formidable essay is to make use of language that isn’t too heavy on the vocabulary and yet eloquent enough to impress your professor. When you place an order on your essay, our on-line writers ensure that they write the paper in a lucid type. They use several literary gadgets to enhance the quality and maintain an academic tone. We know that the marks you score in your essays add as much as mirror your academic efficiency. That is precisely why our online essays writers may help you climb up the ladder of ranks. Unlike our contenders, our on-line essay writers don't compromise with the standard of the essays. Here are the guarantees that our essays include. Many of our writers hold masters levels or larger, so we can help regardless of whether or not you are writing an undergraduate or postgraduate essay! We also have a wide range of different educational services that may be able to assist you. We assume the best way to spotlight the standard of our essay writing service is to point out you our work – it speaks for itself! We’ve produced some incredible samples that show you exactly the kind of work you’ll obtain when ordering from us. The outcomes are a great stage of progress especially in relation to tasks within the identical discipline. Moreover, according to the truth that totally different folks rarely handle a task using the identical perspective. This permits our clients to use the providers of a single author. We can help you no matter what stage you’re writing for. Take a have a look at our pattern essays, prepared at undergraduate and grasp's stage across a spread of grades and topics. Before you choose essentially the most suitable helper amongst tutorial writers on-line to assist you or provide you with some writing ideas for dummies, verify the whole scope of essay writers on-line. The point here is that in order to get a excessive-degree essay writing assist online, you have to make sure that you’ve made the proper alternative. Select from the web site team of artistic writers and use reside chat to communicate with them. Have you turn out to be weary writing countless essays of the educational variety? Our prime-class and premium consultants offer the identical-day paper writing service on beneficial monetary terms. Although we do advise students to make their orders in advance to save lots of time and money, we’re still able to writing a fantastic paper overnight if you need us to. If so, welcome to Best-Writing-Service.com, essentially the most excellent essay writing service in our marketplace. We’re speaking about excellence within the written word. So the primary shared high quality among the many greatest writers of educational essays topics is writing prowess. This essay writing firm is among the few that provides this since we understand the injury coming from not receiving the project on time as well as the best way you expected it to be. It’s impossible to get via the tutorial system without academic level paper writing. They comply with you from middle college all the best way to your graduation from college, college, academy or different instructional amenities. The statistic exhibits us that a median UK student gets to put in writing one essay per week for every subject! Writing calls for creativity, plenty of time, a bunch of resources and plenty of ability. When you're asked to write down so regularly, creative juices will depart you. Without these, a course of will take lots of day off your clock and will make you much less efficient. It’s an intimidating possibility when you wish to be one of the best you – a great scholar and a cheerful particular person. A display shot of EssayShark’s homepage, promoting essay writing providers. This freedom allows the purchasers at hand in constant educational essays.

[octopodeez]

A Life You Deserve (John Wick x Reader)

Who ever thought that The Boogeyman could fall in love. 

SPOILER FREE FIC consisting of 100% sappy fluff. 

A very loose Part II to this (x) – though it can easily be read on its own. 

John lay on his side next to you. His eyes were closed. His body was relaxed. His breathing was steady. If you didn’t know better, you’d think he was just a man lulled into a slumber because it was a basic, human need. Instead, you marveled at the fact that the Boogeyman slept.

Instances like these were so rare. In the year you’d been with him, you’d only been able to spend  a handful of nights together, and you’d learned to treasure every moment. Perhaps that was why you could never sleep when he was by your side. He always looked so vulnerable, and even in the safety of The Continental, you still felt the need to watch over him. You’d grown to love John more than you could comprehend, and with that love came the constant need to keep him safe. Naturally, he’d assure you that he was perfectly fine—usually as the Continental’s doctor administered him sutures after a job—then change the subject. But you were stubborn, so if he wasn’t going to let you protect him while he was awake, then you’d do it when he was unconscious and had no say in the matter.

In the mornings, he went right back to real life. There was no groggy twilight to ease him in. It was always an alarm jolting his eyes open, and by the second time it buzzed, he’d be sitting up mumbling some variation of “I’m awake, I’m awake” irately at the offending clock. Then he’d turn his attention to you, most likely still asleep, and lay back down to pull you against his body. His arms would snake around you. His lips would graze your neck. It was time to switch roles. He was the protector once again, and you were his porcelain doll. Fragile. Captivating. He told you this on a regular basis. And you believed it to be true. John wasn’t one to say things he didn’t mean. He didn’t like to waste words.

He felt so human in these moments. Then the room service you arranged the night before would show up. You’d eat plain cereal with 1% milk together in silence. He’d excuse himself to shower, and by the time he returned, his humanity had been washed away, and the Boogeyman was back.

You drew your knees to your chest and watched as he moved fluidly about the room, quietly taking inventory of his things while he packed. He did his best to hide the guns from you. He knew you didn’t like them. What they meant he’d be going off and doing.

“Do you think you’ll be back soon?”

“You know I don’t like guessing time frames. I don’t like disappointing you.”

“I know. I just hate when I don’t have time to ask Winston for the night off… and I’ve run out of coins to get other staff members to take my place when it turns out to be last minute.”

“That’s what you’ve been spending your coins on?” He paused what he was doing to stare at you.

“Yeah. What else am I going to? It’s not like I ever leave the hotel. Laundry is a 24/7 job. Winston gives his staff all access to the services offered here… and even if I did have to use them, I’d still probably just save them for you. You’re what’s most important.”

John looked down and exhaled. “This isn’t the life you deserve.”

“I live in a luxury hotel. I work with the most fascinating people on the planet. I’m dating the man of my dreams. I have a good life.”

“I don’t belong anywhere near dreams.”

You ran a hand down your face. “You always say that, but like it or not, you are. Being with you is so romantic it’s almost disgusting. So cliché. You’re a gentleman. I don’t think there has ever been a time I’ve walked through a door that you haven’t held. You buy me little gifts—thoughtful ones—you take a genuine interest in my life. You keep me safe. You always know how to fuck me in the dirtiest ways, yet after, you make me feel clean. You make every little moment we’re together feel so… intimate. Like I’m the only one who exists…fuck,” you hadn’t noticed the way your voice began to quiver as you rambled.

“We both know you’re making things sound better than they are. I’m always gone. As soon as the word got out…about us…you became confined to this hotel, lest you get a bullet in your head. When I do actually show up, it’s always after I’ve done terrible things. And I’ll be covered in the blood to prove it.”

You shrugged. You were both right. You just preferred your version better. “All those things are worth it when you love somebody.”

There it was. Out in the open after avoiding it for a year. You were in love with John Wick. You had been since that first night where your date consisted of tending to his wounds and kissing him shamelessly. He wasn’t quite sure how to respond. He couldn’t even remember the last time he’d heard those words strung together—especially directed at him.

He couldn’t bring himself to say it back. Not when he didn’t deserve to hear it in the first place; but his heart was racing and he had to do something. So he walked to you, took your face in his hands, and kissed you. It was sweet. Gentle. That was always how his goodbye kisses went, though this one seemed like there was something more behind it. You weren’t sure. It could just be wishful thinking.

“I have to go now.”

“Yeah, John. I know.”

***

On the third night he was gone, your phone buzzed with a text. You yawned and rubbed your eyes. It had to be closing in on 2am now, and you’d only just climbed into bed after wrestling with a blood stain on a mob leader’s jacket.

Room 842.

You rolled your eyes. He almost always announced his homecoming like this. John’s texts were just like him: the fewest amounts of words possible.

Grumbling, you stood up and walked to the mirror on your wall. You stopped making an effort to primp after a few months of late night arrivals, but you still liked to make sure you looked somewhat presentable. A brush through the hair usually did the trick. Tonight was different, though, and you realized it as you grew more lucid. The last time you saw John, you’d told him you loved him. More importantly, the last time you saw John, you told him you loved him, and he didn’t say it back.

Something wrenched around in your gut. Butterflies? Wasps? Fiery pins and needles? It was a new breed of anxiety you’d yet to face until now, and you felt sick. As you made the trek to his room, a creeping sense of paranoia began to overtake you; that everyone you passed knew. There was a certain pity to it that you hated. Poor thing, about to be heartbroken. A thought radiating off each and every brain in the hotel. In reality, you knew this to be false. All types of people checked in and out of The Continental, but none of them were psychic.  They were surely focused on things a little darker than the outcome of your relationship.

John answered on your second knock, holding the door for you as you walked in. He looked tired. More so than usual.  

“Good trip?” You asked quietly. You weren’t in the mood to play the usual lengthy “let’s-see-who-talks-first” game. He nodded.

“’Fraid so.” That was the extent of the remorse he’d typically show after a job. Those same two cursory words in that same, flat tone.

“Are you hurt?”

“A little bruised, otherwise fine.”

“You sure? Because that’s what you said the last time and it turned out you’d gotten stabbed.”

There was an unintentional coldness in your voice—the result of a painstaking three days wondering what was going to happen when he got back. John had surely already picked up on it. He locked his eyes with yours; challenging but soft as he shrugged off his suit jacket and loosened his tie.

He treated his suits with care; always making sure to hang them as neatly as possible, even if they were tattered. During the frequent instances where they were tossed to the ground in heat, he’d still get up and pluck them off the floor after the deed was done. Times like now, he was more methodical about things. He undid each button at a leisurely pace. He removed every piece in a way that could only be described as delicate. It was captivating to watch. Layer by layer, he was removing his shell, until finally, he was bare from the waist up. The element of challenge in his features only increased as he waited for your inspection.

You paced around him. The front of his torso seemed relatively intact, but his back was worse for the wear. Large bruises–some accented with scrape marks–distorted his tattoos and spine. There were a few along the sides of his ribs and arms, as well. From the patterns they presented themselves in, it was clear that this was more than a fall. He’d skidded upon impact. Something strong had knocked him down, more than likely a car. It was amazing how many times the man had gotten hit and lived to tell the tale–metaphorically speaking. He never actually talked about his jobs.

You sighed and resisted the urge to run your fingers along their outlines; a usual habit of yours, as if your touch could somehow ease his pain. “Have you iced?”

“I just need to sleep.”

“You need ice.”

“I know why you’re upset.”

You pursed your lips together tightly and folded your arms. You weren’t caught off guard. You knew how well he could read you, and subconsciously, you’d been trying to make it obvious that there was something wrong. John was a lot of things, but dense wasn’t one of them. It was one of the reasons things had managed to last as long as they had. He didn’t like to play petty head games or bullshit around. If a dialogue needed to be had, then it was had promptly, before an issue began to fester and grow more than it had to.

“Do you?”

“Yes,” he walked to his suitcase to pull out a fresh shirt. Even safe, John didn’t like being so exposed. “I knew this day would come.”

“Jesus, John. You make it sound like I’ve given you awful news or something.”

“That’s not what I mean. I knew the day would come that I��d have to retire.”

“Excuse me…?”

“I knew this was going to end in two ways, so I made myself a promise. Either you’d eventually leave, and things would go on how they are. Or, you’d somehow manage to love me back, and I’d leave this life behind. Build us something real.”

“Love you,” you paused and swallowed thickly in disbelief, “back?” It was funny how someone who spoke so little managed to erase the majority of your vocabulary. “How long have you felt this way?”

“A while.”

You had so many questions. You had so many things you wanted to say. You wanted to fall into his arms and weep. You wanted to kiss every inch of him, pledging yourself both emotionally and physically. You wanted to ask every question about why and how and when, and then tell him every last thought you’d had about your future together. This was the moment you’d been waiting for–hoping for–since…you weren’t sure when. But it had been a desire that consumed you.

And all you could do was stare at him dumbly while he prodded a bruise on his forearm that he’d just noticed. You were realizing that none of the sappy things you’d imagined were right for this. Not now. Not yet. They could come later, now that you knew there was time for them.

“I don’t know what to do. Isn’t that so stupid? I’ve been waiting for this, and now I don’t know what to say or do.” You finally managed.

John looked up at you and let his arms fall to his sides as a rare smile made his features glow.

“Let’s go home.”

Forgive me for the half-assed ending. Graduate school fries brains. 

Tag list (feat. people who asked + people who expressed an interest in a part 2): @devilstrip @freakcorner @tearis @fearless2tobeme @pandoramajora @nostalgic-uncertainty @abigailredgrave @sallyp-53 @katewilson0323  @mrsbabayagawick @tonictransistor @zombianca @letskeepthisbetweenmeandyou @goflockur-self @redmachetescrossbows24 @buckyroagers @noonerz45 @jokersonme @hellokittyswiftie @attempt-62 @ohmyfili @the-temple-pythoness @tomburkeruinedmylife

[swanqiu]

squibbed​:

If Cho expected Hurley to be surprised, or agitated, or possibly even mortified by her catching him in the act like this, he’s sorry to say that she’s going to be massively disappointed. The strongest reaction her presence generates is a cursory glance at the recently-opened door and then a swift continuation of the personal maintenance he had been carrying out before she arrived. 

“Well, I was, but the window’s been open for ten minutes, so you should be alright.” He taps his tweezers against the rim of the sink, leans into the mirror, and gets to work on the other eyebrow.

“I know what you’re thinking. My mindreading services would normally cost you extra, but I’m feeling generous today. I’m thinking that you’re thinking - hey, have they rearranged this place lately, or is that a fine male specimen standing before me in the ladies room? And that’s an alright question, if teetering on unoriginal. I’ll give you one - nay, three good answers. Remember I said how generous I was feeling? I wasn’t kidding.”

If Cho is expecting him to introduce himself at any point, she should learn to lower her expectations wherever Hurley is concerned.

“You’re never out of toilet paper. That’s one. Your mirrors never have any questionable substances smeared on them - that’s two. And the clientele that this place attracts… let’s just say, for a guy who recently came into the perfectly legal possession of six cratefuls of perfume - this is the best kind of advertising I could get.” He stabs his tweezers at the product poster on the wall. And the one above the mirrors. And the one behind the door, and on each of the stall doors. He’s been a very busy boy this morning.

“Say, are you normally this quiet?” Pay no attention to the fact that he’s bulldozed over every opportunity she’s had to interject. 

She doesn’t really know what to say— is there anything to say? is he going to let her say anything?— but she blinks again, the gears in her mind still turning— still trying to connect the dots and get from Point A to Point B to make sense of whatever prank from Peeves this might be.

Cho doesn’t particularly keep up with his slew of reasons regarding the girls’ bathrooms’ superiority (she knows; Roger had snuck her into the boys’ bathroom, once, when the girls’ bathroom could have been mistaken for intermission at the Quidditch World Cup, the way the line had nearly wrapped around the corner). However, she does care for how surreal this all seems, how suddenly she can’t quite remember why she came here at all, and Cho wonders if pinching herself will do the trick to wake her up from whatever lucid dream this is. The boy manages a half-smile from her, though, when he motions toward the posters that are, well, everywhere, because at least she can tell Marietta afterward that she’s solved the mystery of the perfumes that have taken some of the younger Ravenclaw girls by storm.

Still, despite all of the sensory stimulation she’s ambushed with, it’s the tweezers she hones in on; she hasn’t seen one since one of the older Ravenclaw girls from a few years back had shared a specific charm with her dorm, and there had been no going back since.

Cho clears her throat, miraculously managing to find her voice before he can steal any other opening for her to speak. She points her chin toward the tweezers in his hand. “There’s, um, a spell for that,” she offers, still a little wary about him, “for tweezing. It’s really shaved time off of prep.” Cho considers her words a moment, and then makes a face. “Er, no pun intended.”

Raising a brow and clearing her throat again (the familiar lump that usually accompanied her cries had started to ease up, in the last few minutes of comprehending the sketchy boy in the bathrooms), Cho holds up her wand. “I could show you, if you’d like.”

[andishallemerge]

My vivid dream last night...

So, I had one of the most vivid dreams ever last night.

Under the cut because of some graphic details. I left out some remembered details as they didn't seem imprtant.

Prologue:

Apparently my wife (we'll call J) and I were separated, and I was getting remarried to a girl named Annie. We were back living in Maryland, or at the very least the setting was multiple locations in PG county, Maryland.

Annie was moderately overweight, had a messy short haircut dyed black, and had soft punk aesthetics. She was recently divorced from her previous marriage to another woman, and living with her mother short-term while that was all settling.

J was working at Goddard/NASA, and was now in a relationship of her own. I had no idea what I was currently doing, but I was staying at my mother's house at least one night in the dream.

Commentary on Prologue:

I grew up in that area. My formative years were spent there, so it's really baked into my psyche.

Annie is a clearly stand-in for my wife. Anne is my wife's middle name. Annie is a queer punk manifestation of J.

Act 1:

We are at my old church, the one I grew up in. We are having a rehearsal for my wedding to Annie. We are also having the rehearsal dinner there, and showing a movie on the projector during dinner.

Someone slips me an envelope. It contains the wedding invitation, and several notes written on vellum from my mother, step father, and grandmother. I skim the notes, but do not really read them, as I'm kinda busy. I slip them into the inside pocket of the white sports jacket I'm wearing.

Rehearsal concludes, and dinner is served in the main lobby of the church. The movie starts. I take the kids up to the balcony, as I think they will be less disruptive away from the majority of the people.

The auditorium is filled with blue haired women and balding men. For the most part, everyone is faceless. I don't know these people; why are they here?

My seat is obstructed view, and my kids start acting up. I'm getting the stink eye from some old lady; I'm forced to deal with them, and leave my jacket under the seat.

Commentary on Act 1:

The church is a conservative Baptist church. They would never let a trans person get married there. There are no obstructed view seats in the auditorium; it's just not built that way, especially in the balcony.

I don't recognize most people there. There are a lot of people, easily in the hundreds. I'm guessing my mind just filled in the auditorium with a regular Sunday service.

I don't know if I'm presenting as male or female. I usually don't in my dreams unless I see myself in a mirror. I do know I am trans and in the process of transitioning at the time of the wedding. I find it odd that I would not be in wedding dress, which in turn makes it seem odd that I am not presenting as female. The jacket in question is a white sports coat, men's cut. That I do know.

Act 2:

Cut to the next day. I have to get the kids to J for some reason, and no one has a car. I start walking to Annie's mother's house. Like a three-four mile walk, down Cipriano road and up MD193, past my old high school, to some townhouses in new Greenbelt just off 193 near the parkway.

Annie's brother volunteers to take the kids to J, and me and Annie can relax. We go down into the basement, and lounge on a couch, watching tv but not really. We start making out, and end up naked on the couch, not quite 69, but more like 6P, if that makes sense.

Her mother walks in on us, but neither Annie nor her mother react. I silently freak out, but I'm on the bottom. She quietly gets what she came into the room for and leaves. My in dream thought was that this was not the first time this has happened.

We finish up, Annie excuses herself to the bathroom momentarily, I'm left lying on the couch naked. Sugar (lyrics at http://www.azlyrics.com/lyrics/garbage/sugar.html) by Garbage is playing in the stereo. I wake.

Commentary on Act 2:

My kiss were the same age on the dream as they are now: 5 and almost 3. I can make that walk easily. They are not physically capable of doing it.

The idea that no one would have car available to get the kids to J is not realistic, when you combine my family, Annie's family, and J's family.

Townhouses don't exist in the place where my mind had them, but Greenbelt is covered with them. The key, I think, is that the house was the opposite direction from the main gate to NASA (and therefore J) on 193.

I left out details of sex here, but it was the most detailed sex I've ever had in a dream.

Other thoughts

My consciousness was its own stream within the dream. When I dream in first person, it's always restricted, but without a well-developed internal monologue; this was different.

Everything in this universe was ideal. Almost. Everything was all the best things that both me and J would want, except we didn't have each other. The thought "But J" was constantly in my mind at every scene. I simply was not happy despite having nearly everything else, because we were not together.

What was a too-perfect world of happiness and acceptance was a literal nightmare that left me shaken for most of the day because me and my wife were no longer together.

I never became lucid during this dream, which has been a regualr occurrance of remembered dreams recently.

Anyone have any thoughts?

[croziers-compass]

A Question Regarding the Hindu Religion.

Someone who's good with Hinduism or anyone who's experience is Hinduism, I would appreciate your insight. Right now, I lack the time and current resource to do research and I was hoping to get some good intel on the dream I had last night.

Okay, so I was on this wood platform in what appeared to be a mountainous area. The platform was actually within some trees, and there was a shrine to Ganesha at the far end of this platform. Note, it wrapped all around the tree like a skirt, if that helps with visualization.

The shrine was on an offshoot centered on the platform, jutting out away from the tree. It overlooked a river that flowed down the mossy and earthy rocks. There was a railing that, for the most part, surrounded the platform.

I was there before the Altar/shrine to Ganesha (or I think it was Ganesha, I am terribly sorry. This is not my field of expertise). The Statue itself was in a similar, but not quite the same pose as many of the Shiva statues I usually see. Some things were quite different in pose, but it was still standing and had arms spread kind of like Shiva statues. It was indeed Elephant headed, so that is why I automatically think "Ganesha".

There were also Makaks (two of them), and one howler monkey just... Chillin' on the railings like it was nothing.

On the Shrine, there were flowers and several cones and one stick of incense burning as well as a resin in a weird bronze pot-like thing But the smoke, no matter how dense, did not obscure the shrine or the statue.

The statue itself was perhaps 6 feet in height made from a dark stone etched with the cracks of time and worn and weathered in some parts by the elements.

Offerings I cannot remember (because I failed to look too closely) were there among flowers of pink and purple variety. There were a few white ones with about 5-6 petals on them. Reminded me of flatter versions of honeysuckle.

I felt like I was supposed to say something or do something. And I have a very strong spirit sense as of late. Where most hear whispers, I hear clear as day or as screams practically.

But, I could feel this... mass of energy. Like an orb or an "egg" like shape. It rotated and moved like suspended fluid. I could see it, in a way, beyond the stone of the shrine's statue. Like... something that appears in a mirror behind you, but when you look it's not there - like it exists in a different "Space".

I put my hands together in a form of like... prayer, I guess, and I got to my knees and prepped for a meditative pose on my knees. My only thought was to ask, "What can I do for you?" like I was some entity Customer Service or some crap. I was dazed and shifting in and out of a sort of lucidity, so I am sorry if this was the wrong thing to do.

I didn't get much of a response, thought this visit lasted for what felt like an eternity. It was just... there. Eventually, I got this, "You are welcomed here and among us. You are welcomed here. You are welcomed. You are. You are welcomed."

And it was more-so not words but a humming vibration. Which is new to me, as I usually get clear worded interpretations. When I get humming vibrations, usually they are distorted and garbled and I have to work on translating it. But this humming vibration was clear and crisp like the fresh mountain air around the shrine.

I was going to ask what the energy/entity/being meant by those words, but for some reason I assumed it wouldn't answer me. At the same time, I felt like it was... Unsure of something about me. Like it wanted to tell me something, share something with me, or mention something or... SOMETHING. It was tentative about something and it never got said/done/expressed, and then I simply let that lingering feeling of meditative lucidity leave me and it sling-shot me back home.

So, to any that can help me out with this situation. May I have any and all input on this experience? It would be fabulously appreciated it, as I do lack the current resources and capability of researching and digging into this. Opinions greatly appreciated it.

[bladesurgence]

reign.

     “Bristle, stay.”

     A jagged path of stark dust and black ice lay before her, and Sejuani knew she had arrived at the correct place. The Frost Staircase, as legends deemed it, would lead to the peak of Morfjeld. It would not make for an easy climb. Giant icicles jutted across the path, sharp crystalline points intersecting the helix shape of the winding staircase to ensure that any misstep during the ascent would lead to a gruesome death.

     The blood of Serylda had not come this far to lose her crown on a spear of misshapen ice.

     Sejuani stowed the mace in the compartment of Bristle’s saddle. She would need as much flexibility as she could muster to navigate the treacherous steps, and a mere show of brute force would not help her carry out her business at the summit.

     Reaching out for a incision carved into the stone, she pulled herself up this glacial obelisk and the Winter’s Wrath began to climb.

     The gash streaking across her forearm stung, but it would heal. She had asked the shamans of her tribe to prepare a variety of herbal remedies for any injuries she might suffer at the peak - Sejuani believed herself unstoppable, not invincible.

     An acceptable sacrifice for what I will achieve here.

     At the highest point of the mountain, a half-spherical structure contained a reclining avian figure, its plumage the color of the midnight sky that hung over Glaskap for nine months out of the year. A blight entrenched itself within the Cryophoenix’s wings, and rotting snow decayed from her perch as Anivia weakly attempted to crane her head at Sejuani’s presence.

    Weak, Sejuani thought, frowning, but not permanently. Her rebirth is nigh.

     What used to conduct itself as the very entity of winter could barely summon the will to live. The Blackfrost had infiltrated her essence like poison seeping through mortal veins. But, unholy and corrupted as it was, it could not stop the cycle of nature.

     “Sejuani.” And even through the blight sapping her strength, the Cryophoenix’s voice carried through with a surprising lucidity.

     “It looks like the Ice Witch’s power has surprised even you.” A cataclysmic confrontation, one that echoed all the way from Rakelstake in the south to Frostheim in the north. Anivia’s efforts had forced Lissandra to withdraw, but Sejuani did not doubt that she would come back with a greater vengeance. Yet the Ice Witch looked severely drained, if she could trust the reports from her scouts. Perhaps enough to be put out of the action for weeks, if not months.

     “Why do you come to me now?” A voice as clear as a cloudless sky, but with the viscosity of vapor.

      “I know your memory of past lives vanishes with each rebirth.” She approached the nest. “When next you reemerge into this world, you will awaken to a Freljord ruled by one queen. A land that adheres to the virtue of strength, and testifies to its mightiest warriors. A tundra that quakes underneath my feet.”

     Anivia’s eyes flashed a brief shade of cerulean. “Your foolish conflict will bring naught but ruin upon the entire land. Strength alone cannot guide you, nor the pandering of soothsayers. Both you and the Frost Archer will succumb to the darkness if you do not cast aside the folly that so taints the small minds of mortals.”

     “Do not cast me in the same lot with that weakling!” Sejuani’s voice thundered across the summit, her force resonating with the mountain itself.

      She lowered her voice, straightening up. “You have already done me a great service in disarming the Ice Witch. And the effort the Avarosan have wasted aiding your struggle against the Frostguard has given me the initiative. The Winter’s Claw has already scattered Ashe’s forces at Belanka Rus, and we will continue to push. We will continue to strike.”

    Her gaze met Anivia’s. “We will continue to conquer.”

     The Cryophonix’s body began to ripple, like a pool of water shimmering as a stone falls through its surface. Anivia’s voice wavered, as if distorted through a thousand glass mirrors, but her defiance remained. “Your war will only bring you a premature victory. You know nothing...” Her words caught in the ice that began to crystallize through her, forcing her whole body to writhe.

     Rebirth. Instead of a spectacular fire, where pyre and offering would both burst into flames, Anivia’s nest began to contract upon itself, building more and more layers of ice onto her body.

     “You are no more than sleet in the winter storm, Cryophoenix!” Sejuani shouted, even as the wind began to howl. “Your feeble warnings shall amount to nothing, just as your memories of this life shall also fade!”

     Anivia gave her one last look before the ice began to completely encase her. “YOU KNOW NOTHING OF WHAT IT MEANS TO RULE.”

     The smirk that drew across Sejuani’s lips would serve as the Cryophoenix’s last experience in this life, before the oblong sphere engulfed her and a dark egg replaced her form. Advancing towards the nest, Sejuani retrieved a dagger from the holder strapped to her thigh. Pulling off the glove of her right hand, she cut a thin line across her palm, letting the blood fall at the base of the egg, the liquid smoking in the frosted air as it descended.

     The blood of one of Freljord’s Three Sisters. Anivia might free herself of the Blackfrost in her reincarnation, but the essence of the Winter’s Claw, and the noble lineage of Serylda, would remain by her side when she awoke.

     And by the time her eyes reveled in the blizzards and the ice once more, she would descend from her perch to the banners of the Winter’s Claw hanging from every fortress and town in the Freljord.

     “I may not have a throne, Cryophoenix,” Sejuani called to the egg as she departed. “But every step I have made on the tundra, every inch of land I have conquered, has given me all the knowledge I need to lead this nation.”

     Albedo flared in her eyes, a fervent blue that could shatter even the most stubborn stone. “And I will know more than you do when you return.”