#...which is also technically what i added to this chapter

[knivestothroats]

i have made "you can scream all you want"........... three times longer

[mylovesstuffs]

learning to be loved after forgetting what it feels like to be safe.

🥕 bae-sically fake. yoon jeonghan [1]

a mylovesstuffs production...

You swear when you made up your fake relationship, you didn't know that someone worked at the coffee shop with the same name or that your family would go to check it out. Now everyone thinks you guys are actually together, and, well, pretending to be fake partners has never been so complicated. Jeonghan plays along, and even offers you a deal—100 days to let him try and woo your closed-off heart. masterlist

genre: fake dating au, modern au, romance, comedy, slice of life, slow burn, emotional healing

pairing: jeonghan × fem!reader

content: fake dating, post-breakup healing, strangers-to-partners dynamic, deal-making [100 days to woo], protective best friends [celeste, seungkwan], healthy family, intense ex-relationship trauma, food symbolism [carrots, broccoli, lunches], nice gestures [flowers, notes, meals], respect and gentle persistence, found family warmth, strong parent-daughter bond, empowering ceo, realistic emotional pacing

warnings: idr the specific warnings for this chp, so im adding all the things that this fic will have in this and future chapters. mentions of past emotional abuse/manipulation, toxic ex, grooming mentioned [non-graphic but explicit reference], cheating and infidelity [past, non-graphic], mentions of underage grooming [girls legal but barely, predatory behavior], emotional trauma and flashbacks, ptsd-like emotional responses, manipulation disguised as affection [past], reference to stalking/following for confirmation of infidelity, heartbreak and betrayal, gaslighting implications [in past relationship], alcohol consumption, mild cursing/swearing, themes of grief and emotional vulnerability, soft romantic tension, no smut [so far; not written yet], emotionally guarded reader, indirect trauma references, workplace sexism [called out], fluffy but with realistic emotional baggage

word count: 14,464 words

✦ in fiction we trust. love, celeste ˶ᵔ⤙ᵔ˶ first of all, tysm to yuki @eclipsaria and rae @nerdycheol for messing with their heads trying to figure out how to actually use the banner in this chapter — because i fucked up [well, not me technically, but technology… long story for another day]. they genuinely tried to help with every possible loophole they could think of, and i appreciate it sm. those days were a mess, and i still don’t understand how tumblr can share a meme but not a banner. anyway. huge thanks to ro @shinysobi and k @cheers-to-you-th for beta-ing and helping me revise this fic to the best version it could be. truly, without these two, i’d have gone insane trying to perfect it all by myself. i’m so, so grateful for their advice, revisions, and all the little tips that helped shape this chapter into what it is now. i could go on and on about how much they helped, but i’ll keep it short [before i get emotional lol]. last but not least, big thanks to k, ro, rae, and yuki for helping me name the ex [and not actually giving space to actual problematic ppl in my fic]. and a big bow to jj @iknowimanicon for letting me yap and brainstorm this fic on and on. btw, this beautiful beautiful banner by yuki!!

this fic went through a lot. i’ve written around 30k words so far [it still needs editing lol], and if this chapter isn’t as fun, i hope the next ones will make up for it. i really poured myself into this story, so i hope you enjoy. this is my submission for yuki’s 100 milestone collab! it’s also jeonghan’s part from my how do you fake it series ♡ i just changed the prompt a bit and included the 100 days — which honestly made it more interesting, imo. anyway, i hope you enjoy!

tag list: @metaphorandmoonlight @smiileflower @starlight-night0 @tokitosun @hanniescookie @woncheecks @suraandsugar @https-seishu @junniesoleilkth @aeerio @i-am-confused-about-life @syluslittlecrows @starstrawb @reiofsuns2001 @honeybear-taetae @atinygracie @nonbanhg @miriamkovacova @giverosespls @lalataitai @fragmentof-indifference @cowboylikemalika @salnovna @wooingmandy @binnielovie @sumzysworld @seungcheolsblackcard @matt-sturnioloo @soonyoonswoo @studioeisa @shinysobi

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“I swear, Mom, I’m not getting married anytime soon,” you had said for what felt like the hundredth time. Your mother, however, didn't seem to hear you anymore, her eyes fixed on the wedding photo album you had been trying to avoid.

“You’re almost twenty-eight! Your cousin got married last month, and your aunt is already planning your other cousin’s wedding!” She sighed, flipping to yet another photo of the happy couple. “When will it be your turn?”

You pressed your lips together, resisting the urge to roll your eyes. She didn't get it. How could she? After the five-year relationship that ended in disaster, you hadn't exactly been eager to dive back into another serious relationship. And so, you said what you always said, a little more exasperated each time: “I’m seeing someone, Mom. We’re just waiting for the right time. It’s complicated right now.”

She narrowed her eyes, unimpressed as always, knowing you're just lying. “Oh? And who is this mysterious boyfriend of yours? Where is he, huh? Why can’t we meet him?”

“I told you, it’s complicated.”

You could see your mom’s gears turning, and you knew exactly where this was heading. “Well, if you’re really serious about him, maybe it's time you finally introduce us. You know, to make sure he’s a good man.”

Crap. You hadn't thought this through.

Your dad, who had been uncharacteristically quiet, chimed in from his chair, not looking up from his newspaper. “Is he from a good family? Are you sure he has the right intentions?”

"Yes, of course!" you said, possibly too cheerfully. Your eyes did a quick tour of the room as if they were looking for a fire alarm to pull. Naturally, your mom leaned in closer.

“Tell us his name, and we’ll go visit him. We can meet him at his work if that's more convenient.”

It was one thing to talk about a boyfriend they hadn't met, and it’s another for them to demand to meet him. Panicked, you blurted out the first name that came to your mind, “Jeonghan. His name is Jeonghan. He works at Mirage Café down the street.” You winced internally at the sound of the name. Jeonghan? Really? That’s what I said? I needed to come up with a name and that’s what my brain goes with? Not something easy, not some basic, common name, but Jeonghan?!

There was a beat of silence and you could practically hear the wheels in your mom’s head moving, and then she smiled, probably thinking she had won. “We’ll go there tomorrow. Let’s see this Jeonghan, then.”

Before you could even think of a way to backpedal, your dad nodded in approval. “Sounds good. We’ll go visit.”

You tried not to make eye contact with your mom as she smiled to herself. “Perfect. We’ll take a trip tomorrow. You’ll be happy that you let us meet him, sweetheart.”

-

The next day had arrived way too fast. You could barely eat breakfast without your stomach churning. Your nerves were through the roof, and the thought of meeting your family at Mirage Café made you want to crawl into a hole and hide forever.

When you and your family arrived, you stood awkwardly at the entrance, mentally kicking yourself for getting into this mess in the first place. Your mom marched ahead, searching for the barista. “Let’s call him, darling. He’s probably busy, right?”

“Right,” you said through a tense smile, not sounding as confident as you’d like.

She waved down a waiter. “Excuse me! Do you know any Jeonghan? He works here, right?”

Your eyes darted across the café as if you were being hunted down. You looked up at the ceiling, pleading with the universe to give you a damn break. Please, please don’t let them see through this lie. You cleared your throat, desperate to steer the conversation in another direction. “Oh, you know... he’s probably not working today. Maybe we should come back another time?” You offered weakly, trying to nudge the waiter into agreeing.

The waiter gave you a confused look. “I’m not sure... but I’ll check.”

Before you could stop him, a voice called out from behind. “Excuse me? Did someone ask for me?”

You turned around to see a tall, impossibly handsome man with an angelic smile walking towards you three. The very same man who had handed you your coffee that morning, you realized. You blinked in shock as his name tag gleamed in the light. Yoon Jeonghan? Oh no. You hadn't paid much attention when he'd taken your order, but your subconscious must have, since his name had been the first you'd thought of. Before anyone could say a word, you did something incredibly stupid. In an instant, you stood up, feeling your face flush hot with panic. You wrapped your arm around his arm, desperately trying to make this look like it had been all planned. “Oh, you're here! Mom, Dad, meet Jeonghan,” you said enthusiastically. “We’ve been together for... two years now.”

Jeonghan’s eyes widened for a split second as he looked at you in confusion, but then, slowly, his lips curled into a smile that was way too charming for your own sanity—far too practiced for how stiff his shoulders had gone. Your mom’s eyes were practically sparkling with excitement, and you could already tell this was going to spiral out of control.

“I didn’t realize you’d be here,” Jeonghan’s voice slid like velvet, but there was a slight corner of confusion below. He shifted his weight, then smiled at your family. “It’s nice to finally meet you all.”

Your mother, bless her heart, was practically glowing. She didn’t even ask what your relationship had been like, or anything that might have made sense, instead, she immediately started making plans. “You two must be so in love!” she gushed. “How did you meet? Tell us everything! Where are you from? What’s your family like?”

You could feel your face burning and really regretted saying two years. Jeonghan, to his credit, didn't seem fazed by her interrogation, though. He just smiled that perfect smile, and before you could say a word, he launched into the most believable, well-thought-out story about how you had met through mutual friends, weaving in little details like how we both loved hiking [which you didn't] and how we once spent an entire rainy weekend binge-watching a series together [you'd never seen it]. Your mom ate it up, of course, nodding approvingly, and you just wanted to die on the spot.

Then, Jeonghan glanced at you with a low-key teasing look, and you could see the corners of his mouth twitching. Is he laughing at me? You couldn't even tell, but just when you thought you might spontaneously combust from the pressure, your dad who had been silently observing, suddenly spoke up. “So, when’s the wedding?”

You blinked, your mind went blank. “Dad!” you blurted out before you could stop yourself. Your voice was a bit too loud, and you caught the eyes of several other patrons in the café who were now all very clearly watching you. Jeonghan took this as his cue to add, “I think we’re still figuring things out,” Jeonghan said smoothly, “but I’ve been thinking next year might be a good time to propose,” and that made you choke on your own saliva.

“Next year?” Your mom’s eyes widened. “Oh, we have to start planning then! I have so many ideas—Y/N, you’ll want a nice, big wedding, won’t you?”

“Uh, I—” you tried to protest and reply with something, but your voice was lost under her excitement.

Once the initial shock of the meeting wore off, and after a painfully long conversation with your family, you eventually managed to escape the café.

You rushed out of the café, heart still pounding from the whirlwind you had just dragged yourself and a complete stranger into. He was standing by the side entrance now, sleeves rolled up, a hand running through his soft, brown hair as he stared off into the street.

You hesitated for a second before calling out, “Hey… um, Jeonghan?” He turned, eyes found yours instantly and then, a faint smile curved at the corners of his lips. “I’m so sorry,” you began, words tumbling out before you could even take a breath. “That was—that was a disaster, and you were just caught in the middle of it. I didn’t even know someone named Jeonghan actually worked here. I just made it up. I didn’t think—I never thought—”

He laughed, a warm sound that made your apology trail off. “I figured,” he said, tilting his head slightly. “Kind of hard to miss how wide your eyes got when I said my name.”

You winced, hands fidgeting in front of you. “Yeah, that’s… that’s fair.”

There was a pause before he nodded toward the café with a shrug. “It was entertaining. Not every day I got introduced as someone’s long-term boyfriend out of nowhere.”

You flushed. “Seriously, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to drag you into this. I just… panicked. My family had been asking about this imaginary boyfriend for ages, and then today, they decided to show up.” You let out a shaky laugh. “And now they think you are him, but I'm really sorry and I won't let it bother you and this was and will be a one time thing. I'll handle them.”

Jeonghan chuckled again but softly. “Well, if you’re really sorry,” he said, brushing imaginary dust from his apron, “you owe me a coffee sometime.”

“Huh?...”

He nodded. “One with my name on it, preferably. Since, you know… it is mine.”

You frowned in confusion. “Your name…?”

He gestured back toward the café. “Café Mirage. It’s mine. The whole chain.”

And you found your eyes going wide again. “Wait, you’re the owner? But you were taking orders like the other staff?”

He smiled as if he was used to that kind of reaction. “I like helping out. Keep things grounded, and it’s nice to be part of the buzz when I’m not buried in paperwork.”

You didn't know what to say to that. Turned out, your imaginary boyfriend was actually a charming, successful café chain owner who somehow hadn't reported you to security yet.

He pulled his phone out of his apron pocket and handed it to you. “Number?”

You blinked again. “You’re serious?”

He smirked. “You owe me, remember?”

You reluctantly typed in your number, thumb hovering over the final digit for a moment before committing to it. As you handed his phone back, he leaned in slightly, just close enough that his breath brushed against your cheek.

“Well,” he murmured teasingly, “that was interesting.”

You winced, glancing over your shoulder where your family was still chatting excitedly inside the café. “They get… a little overenthusiastic.”

Jeonghan straightened, grinning because he found the whole thing more amusing than inconvenient. “Yeah,” he said, pocketing his phone, “I can see that.”

You were about to apologize again, but he just waved you off and started heading back inside, leaving you standing there completely dazed.

You shrugged and headed back inside, trying to school your expression. Your dad was reaching for something in his pocket—which you assumed to be his wallet—you hurried over to him. “Dad, did you already pay? If not, I can—”

Before you could finish, your mother cut in with a pleased smile. “No need, darling. It was on the house.”

Your stomach twisted slightly. On the house? You glanced toward the counter, politely excusing yourself from your parents. “I’ll just go… thank someone real quick.”

You made your way to the front, where a woman in a black apron stood, busy typing something into the POS system. You cleared your throat, and she looked up with a kind smile.

“Hi,” you said, “um… is Jeonghan still around?”

“Yes, ma'am,” she said with a nod. “One moment, I’ll call Mr. Yoon.”

You stepped aside, waiting near a shelf of pastries, your fingers fidgeting with the strap of your bag. A few seconds later, you heard footsteps behind you.

“Back so soon?” 

You turned to face him, lowering your voice as you took a small step to the side, away from the counter. “Yeah. Just… I wanted to thank you again, and also to say… about the bill… you really didn’t have to do that. I can pay, honestly. I want to pay.”

He raised an eyebrow, arms folding loosely across his chest. “So you’re saying you want to pay after pretending I was your boyfriend?” You opened your mouth to protest, but he grinned and held up a hand. “Look,” he said, kindly, “it’s on the house. Just consider it my treat—call it payment for the entertainment. All you need to do is show up the day you decide to buy me that coffee.”

You bit your lip, half-smiling despite yourself. “Are you always this stubborn?”

Jeonghan shrugged playfully. “Only when I want something.”

“Okay, thank you. Seriously.” You nodded, finally giving in.

“Anytime.”

You glanced over your shoulder and saw your family was already getting up, chattering excitedly near the door. “I should go,” you said. “They’re probably already planning our wedding.”

Jeonghan laughed at that. “I look forward to hearing all about it.”

You chuckled, stepping back. “I’ll see you soon then. For the coffee.”

“I’ll be waiting,” he said, voice sounding calm and warm.

-

You slumped onto your bed, the towel still wrapped loosely around your shoulders, your hair damp and sticking to the back of your neck. It had been three days since that café incident. Three whole days and not a single text. Why had he taken your number if he wasn’t going to use it?

You sighed and rolled onto your side, staring at the soft glow of your phone screen. Was he just being nice? Had he thought your lie was pathetic and this was his way of backing out gracefully? You groaned and buried your face into the pillow. You owed him a coffee anyway, and maybe it was time to just go to the café tomorrow, buy him the damn drink, apologize again, and vanish from his life forever like the myth you accidentally became.

Just as you were scripting your own disappearance, there was a soft knock at your door.

“Come in,” you mumbled, voice muffled in pillow fluff.

The door creaked open and your mom stepped in, holding a tall glass of milk filled all the way to the brim. She made her way to your bedside table, carefully placing the glass down. “Your hair’s still wet,” she scolded lightly, tsking as she brushed a few strands back. “You’ll catch a cold like this.”

You only just hummed in response to her. Despite your age, despite the adult life you lived outside these walls, your parents still treated you like their little girl. You were only living with them again because your workplace was closer to their house than your apartment, and… because they had missed their only child. You had missed them too.

Your mom sat on the edge of the bed for a second, smoothing the blanket over your legs like she used to when you were small. You glanced at her, at the lines time had etched onto her face, and that stirred a fragile kind of love and bittersweet warmth in your chest. Your parents hadn't had the easiest childhoods. They didn't talk about it much, but you knew. Maybe that was why they tried so hard to give you the life they hadn't gotten, and they did it really well. Your dad, especially, was the reason your standards were sky high. He treated both you and your mom like queens. Not princesses, Queens. He never made either of you feel small, and even when there wasn’t much money, there had always been love and that love felt like a warm blanket fresh out of the dryer.

That was why it had hurt so much when you didn’t listen to them about your ex. They knew he wasn’t right for you, they had seen the signs which you hadn't. You were too in love—or what you thought had been love. Even after it all had come crashing down, your parents didn’t say, I told you so. They didn’t shut you out, instead they pulled you in closer and protected you. They never brought him up again, and just silently patched you up with love, like they always did. You still remembered the way your dad’s jaw had clenched when he had seen you cry, and the way your mom had stroked your hair and pretended not to be crying with you.

You blinked back the sudden sting in your eyes. Your mom patted your thigh, smiling at you like she already knew you had been spiraling before she came in. “Dry your hair properly, okay? And drink the milk.”

You nodded slowly, “Thanks, Mom.”

She got up and walked to the door, pausing before she left. “You’ll be okay, you know. Whatever’s bothering you... it’ll pass.”

You nodded again, because she was always right.

The door clicked shut behind her. You sat up, reached for the milk, and took a sip. You were still annoyed that Jeonghan hadn't texted yet, but maybe tomorrow, you would go see him just to return the gesture. 

You were halfway through your milk and mindlessly scrolling Instagram when a text from an unknown number suddenly lit up your screen.

-

You walked into the café wearing something casual and comfortable which was feminine but not too much, something that still felt put together without trying too hard. You glanced around, your eyes instinctively landing on the floor-to-ceiling windows. The natural light poured in like a warm hug, and you chose a table by the glass, giving you a perfect view of the area outside.

Barely two minutes passed before you spotted him. He was walking toward you, but no apron this time, just a simple outfit that still made him look unfairly good. His hair was slightly tousled, a few strands falling perfectly over his forehead, and there was that ridiculously sweet and disarming smile gracing his lips. He definitely knew the effect he had on people and didn't even try to hide it. 

He stopped in front of you. “I’ve got a better spot for us,” he says softly, nodding for you to follow him.

You stood and trailed behind him as he led you deeper into the café, away from the area you had been in a few seconds ago and into a semi-private space tucked to the side. The vibe was warm soft beige and creamy whites, cozy lighting, and a calm atmosphere that immediately made you feel at home.

Once seated, Jeonghan flashed another smile. “What do you want to order? My treat.”

“But I’m here to treat you, remember?” You said.

“Exactly,” he grinned. “You’re already getting the coffee. Let me at least cover the dessert.”

You started to argue, but he gave you that playfully persuasive look, and insisted until you finally gave in and settled on tiramisu.

The conversation flowed easily after that. You talked about your work, your absurd deadlines, your coworkers’ obsession with bubble tea. He told you stories about running the café chain, how he sometimes snuck into different branches just to work as a barista because he missed the human side of it. There was both laughter and comfortable silences rising between you, and before you knew it, he had completely disarmed you.

Then, as you were taking a sip of your latte, he leaned forward just a bit and said it; softly but with no hesitation. “I think I fell in love with you the first time I saw you.”

You nearly choked on your latte. “W-What?”

He chuckled but didn't take it back. “I’m serious. You were pretty and nervous, trying to save face in front of your family... but there was something about you that just stuck to me.”

Your heart stirred, but not enough to change where it was currently locked away. You set your cup down gently. “Jeonghan, you seem like a good man… and you’re,” you gestured vaguely at him, “well, unfairly handsome, if I'm being honest, but… I’ve closed off that part of my heart for a while, and I’m not ready to open it yet.”

He didn't ask why or pry, he just smiled that same soft understanding smile. “I figured you’d say that. So how about a deal?”

You tilted your head. “A deal?”

“I’ll keep playing the part of your boyfriend anytime your family needs to see me.” He paused, letting the silence stretch. “But you give me 100 days.”

“One hundred days for what?”

“For me to woo you,” he said, eyes gleaming in a way that shook you a little more than you’d like to admit. “No pressure and definitely no expectations, just let me try. That’s all.”

You hesitated, looking down at your hands. “I’m not promising anything, Jeonghan. Like I said, my heart is… closed.” You took a breath, thinking it over; it was too much of a good deal to completely turn down. After a pause, you looked up again. “But I’m not completely closed-minded. If you want to try, you can. Just know I might not change.”

He leaned back with a satisfied smile. “I can work with that.”

You exhaled a soft laugh and nodded. “Alright then. Deal.”

The countdown began.

Two

Day 5 of 100

Your pencil glided across your sketchpad as you worked on a draft for the new balcony design of a hotel lounge. The afternoon light spilled in through the office windows, hitting your page just right as you adjusted the lines of the railing. You were lost in thought, debating whether to go for a rustic wood finish or a sleek glass border when a paper bag was dropped onto your desk with a soft thud.

“Delivery for you,” a coworker said. “From your boyfriend, apparently.”

Before you could even process, Celeste, your best friend and your cousin, launched up from her seat like she had been electrocuted. She didn't even give you a chance to reach for the bag. “Boyfriend?! Excuse me—the fuck do you mean boyfriend?” she exclaimed, already halfway through tearing open the top of the paper bag. “When the hell did you get a boyfriend? I thought you were done with love! You said you were done with love!”

You exhaled sharply, snatching the bag from her hand before she could dig in further. “Cel, can you not violate my lunch?”

“So it is lunch! And it’s from him!” she paused then looked at you accusingly, “who even is him? And why do I not know about this?”

You glanced down, eyebrows raising when you saw a folded note tucked inside, the handwriting a neat scrawl: Don’t skip meals today. — Jeonghan

You honestly weren’t expecting to hear from him after that coffee—maybe in a week or so. So when a paper bag landed on your desk today, the very next day, your brain had to short-circuit. You swallowed, the corners of your lips twitching, and pulled out the lunch box. Inside was a beautifully packed meal—teriyaki chicken with seasoned rice, grilled veggies, and a small matcha cookie tucked in on the side. Your stomach growled on cue.

Celeste was practically bouncing behind you, peering over your shoulder. “You better start talking before I call your mom.”

You rolled your eyes and gestured to her seat. “Sit the fuck down.”

She obeyed, sliding animatedly into her chair, arms crossed. “I’m listening.”

You sighed, rubbing your temples. “Okay, so… remember how my family’s been bugging me to get married for like… two years?”

“Yeah. They’ve been on your ass because it’s their full-time job.”

“Well,” you started, picking up your chopsticks and stabbing a piece of broccoli, “I kind of told them I already had a boyfriend of two years.”

Her eyes widened. “You lied?!”

“I didn’t mean to lie-lie. I just… said a random name, and said he worked at a café.”

“And?”

“And then my parents dragged me to that café.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“Oh my God—”

“And there actually was a Jeonghan working there.”

She slapped a hand over her mouth. “NO.”

“YES.”

She wheezed.

“And before I could do anything, he walked over, introduced himself to my parents, and I panicked and told them he was my boyfriend.”

Celeste fell sideways in her chair, clutching her chest like it was too much for her weak heart to handle. “This is insane! Keep going.”

You shoved a bite of chicken into your mouth. “Later, I went to apologize to him for the scene and it turns out… he’s the owner of the café chain.”

“What the actual—?!”

“So I took him up on a coffee treat a few days later, and while we were there, he told me he fell in love with me at first sight and made me a deal.” You said and calmly took another bite as Celeste shrieked. “He’ll fake-date me in front of my family whenever I need — in exchange for 100 days to woo me.” Now all you heard is silence, and so you glanced at Celeste, who was staring at you like she just witnessed a plot twist in a K-drama in real life. “…You okay?”

She nodded slowly. “I have never been more emotionally fed in my life.”

You snort. “Well, now get physically fed before I steal your lunch.”

-

Juggling your sketchpad under one arm and your nearly dead phone in your other hand, you found the front door was locked, which was weird because your parents were always home this time of day. Frowning, you unlocked it and pushed the door open.

The first thing you saw was a note, stuck right on the shoe rack in your dad’s familiar handwriting: Buy a bouquet of flowers on your way to your aunt’s. Don’t stay home—come straight there.

Your brows furrowed as you stepped in and dropped your bag. You instinctively reached for your phone to call your mom but of course it had finally died. You stared at it for a few seconds before groaning. With a reluctant sigh, you grabbed your charger for later, locked the door again, and left for your aunt’s.

-

You had expected a cozy dinner with maybe a few people. Instead, you were hit with the sound of dozens of voices the moment you stepped into the front gate. Laughter, chatter, shoes—a mountain of them—outside the door. You walked in and it was everyone. Uncles. Aunts. Cousins you hadn't seen in months. Your second cousin from abroad was there too. It was a family gathering, you realised. You blinked, recovered quickly and offered a polite smile and greeting to anyone who turned toward you. You bowed your head, murmuring ‘Hellos,’ as you shuffled through the familiar hallway, doing your best to keep your confusion hidden.

You finally found your mom in the kitchen, pulling roasted chicken from the oven. She turned around and let out a tiny yelp when she saw you. “Oh— you scared me!”

You immediately reached forward and steadied the pan in her hand. “Sorry! That could’ve burned you.”

She exhaled in relief, then smiled wide. “Everyone’s been waiting for you. Go change and plate the dishes, okay?”

You didn't move. “Wait. What is going on? Why is everyone here? Why didn’t you tell me we were coming here today?”

She looked at you, confused. “I did tell you. I sent you a text this afternoon. I told you we were all coming to celebrate your cousin’s graduation. Everyone’s in town.”

You stared at her, stunned for a moment, then groaned. “Oh my God—I didn’t see it. My phone’s been flooded with client messages and drafts and edits and now it’s dead and—ugh.”

As you were about to turn around and change, your mom gasped, her eyes going wide. “Don’t tell me Jeonghan’s not with you!”

You froze mid-step. “...What?”

“I told the family your boyfriend would be coming too. I wrote it in the text. You didn’t see that either?”

You facepalmed so hard it echoed. “Obviously I didn’t. Why would you tell them he’s coming?!”

“I thought he was! It would be so cute for everyone to meet him tonight.”

Your heart lurched. This is bad, this is very bad. “I’ll fix it,” you muttered and spun on your heel, practically running through the hallway. You darted into a spare room and locked the door behind you and slumped against it for a second. You plugged your phone in and the screen flickered to life. 1% and you didn't wait, your fingers were already flying across the screen as you found Jeonghan’s number and pressed ‘Call.’

“Hey,” his voice came through, warm and a little sleepy.

You didn't let him finish. “Jeonghan, I’m so, so sorry to bother you at this hour—seriously, I wouldn't call unless it was important. Are you busy? Or like… home and maybe willing to go on a sudden field trip?”

He chuckled. “Hey, breathe. What happened?”

You exhaled shakily. “So apparently—my cousin graduated and the entire extended family is at my aunt’s place. My mom had texted me about it but I hadn't seen it because my phone was dying and drowning in work notifications. And now I’m here, and so is everyone.”

“Okaaay…”

“And my mom—bless her—told the whole family you were coming… as my boyfriend.”

There was a beat of silence and you cringed. “So… you want me to come over and save you?”

“YES, Jeonghan. Everyone’s here. My uncles, aunts, their kids, and my mom just dropped, ‘Don’t tell me Jeonghan’s not here with you!’ I’m two seconds away from faking a stomach ache and crawling out the window.” You heard him laugh lightly as you blabbered on. “I’m seriously sorry,” you apologized again, your voice small. “Can you—would you maybe come over? You don’t have to stay long, just… show face, say some sweet things about me, eat a cookie, and then disappear. Please?”

Jeonghan hummed thoughtfully. “Hmm...”

“I’m begging you, Jeonghan. I swear I owe you so much after this. You can blacklist me from your café if you want, I’ll go willingly.”

He laughed again, soft and amused. “You don’t need to beg. I got you. Send me the address.”

“Really?”

“Of course,” he said easily. “I told you I’d play the boyfriend whenever you needed me. I’m on my way.”

 “You’re the best. Like actually the best. I owe you dinner, bubble tea, and a kidney.”

“I’ll take the bubble tea. Keep your kidney.”

You were already typing the address with trembling fingers. “On it. Thank you. I mean it.”

“I know,” he teased. “Now hurry up before your aunt tries to set you up with your cousin’s dentist or something.”

You groaned. “Don’t even joke about that.”

He just laughed again, and the call ended. Now, all you had to do was survive the next twenty minutes of nosy relatives until your fake boyfriend-slash-lifeline walked through that door.

So, what was the next best distraction? Your little cousins, of course.

You made your way to the living room where a couple of them were sprawled on the floor playing some weird version of Uno that definitely didn't follow official rules. You crouched beside them and instantly snatched a card from the youngest, who gasped and tried to get it back while shouting, “Unfair! You’re not even playing!”

“That’s because I’m a wildcard,” you smirked, holding the card high above your head while the others laughed. You spent the next few minutes stirring up chaos like, peeking at their cards, mixing up the draw pile, and accusing them of cheating just to mess around. They were yelling at you, but laughing too hard to mean it. It was the perfect distraction from your own nerves for the night.

That was, until you heard footsteps and a familiar voice that made you groan. “Well, well, well... I hear someone’s boyfriend will be here soon.”

You whipped your head around to see Celeste strolling into the room, a smug little smirk curling her lips as she sauntered up to you. She bumped your hip lightly with hers and raised her brows in exaggerated curiosity. You cussed her under your breath through a clenched smile, already bracing yourself. Unfortunately, your aunts were quicker than your panic.

“Oh, he's coming tonight, right?” one piped up from the couch.

“We’ve been dying to meet him!” another added cheerfully, leaning forward.

You internally screamed but plastered on a polite smile. “Yes, he’s… on his way.” Before the interrogation could go any further, you grabbed Celeste's wrist and muttered, “Excuse us,” before dragging her away from the living room crowd, down the hallway and toward a corner near the bathroom. “You’re actually insane,” you hissed once you were alone. “Why would you bring him up?! They were quiet, Celeste. They were probably forgetting!”

Celeste just giggled, “I’m sorry, I had to. You know I’ve been dying to meet the guy who managed to sneak past your titanium heart.”

You groaned and rubbed your forehead. “First of all, you already know it’s not like that. Second of all—okay, listen—this is what happened.” You exhaled and spilled the entire story from start to finish: how your phone had died, how you hadn't read your mom’s text about tonight’s gathering, how she’d apparently told everyone that Jeonghan would be joining, and how you had called him to come save your ass.

Celeste listened wide-eyed and gasped at all the right moments, nodding along. “So he’s at least coming, right?!”

“Yes,” you sighed. “And please don’t make it worse. Don’t act like this is some grand romance. He’s doing me a favor, okay?”

“Mhm,” she hummed with a sarcastic grin. “Of course, of course.”

Before you could smack her with a dish towel, Joshua, her long-term boyfriend, showed up with his usual sweet smile. “Hey, sorry to interrupt the secret meeting,” he said, wrapping an arm around Celeste's waist. “But I’m gonna steal her for a sec. Your mom’s calling you, by the way.”

You nodded and smiled politely at him. “She probably wants to scold me again.”

Joshua chuckled and led Celeste away as you headed back to find your mom. As expected, she was standing by the kitchen counter, hands on her hips. “Did you have to rile up the kids like that?” she asked, though her tone is more bemused than angry.

You rolled your eyes playfully. “They started it.”

“Go plate the dishes,” she said, trying to hide her smile at your childish behaviour. “And behave.”

You grabbed the fried rice and sides, neatly plating them and arranging them on the dining table. The smell was warm and rich and comforting, but it still didn't calm your nerves. 

Ding dong.

You nearly launched yourself down the hallway to the front door, ignoring everyone’s curious glances behind you. There was only one person you were hoping to see on the other side, so you reached for the handle and opened it and—thank god—there he was. Jeonghan; your lifeline for the night. Your heart might have been closed... but damn, it still knew how to skip.

Jeonghan stood tall and effortlessly charming in a beige cardigan over a white shirt, sleeves rolled to his elbows. A silver chain peeked just slightly from under his collar. He was holding a bouquet: roses and baby’s breath, just like your mom's type, and was wearing a calm smile like he hadn't just agreed to join a family gathering at the last minute.

“You’re… kinda late,” you muttered, your hand still on the doorknob, but your heart was doing somersaults from relief.

He leaned slightly forward, the smile growing. “I brought flowers. That buys me five minutes of forgiveness, right?”

You snorted under your breath and grabbed his wrist, pulling him inside quickly before anyone else saw him and turned this into a press conference, but you knew it was too late when you heard a chorus of gasps and not-so-quiet whispers rise like a wave from the living room.

“Oh, he’s so handsome,” someone whispered.

“Is that him?!”

Your aunt gasped. “He looks just like a celebrity—”

“Is that the Jeonghan?” one of your cousins said in awe.

Jeonghan’s eyes swept over the room politely which happened to be straight ahead from the main door before turning to you with a smug little glint in his eye. “You didn’t tell me it was going to be a fan meeting.”

“Oh come on,” you murmured under your breath, forcing a smile so strained you swore your cheeks might just snap as your relatives descended like hawks circling prey.

He slipped off his shoes, and just as he was about to step onto the wooden floor in his socks, one of your aunts rushed to the door. Her eyes practically sparkled as she beamed at her niece’s so-called ‘secret boyfriend.’ You, the niece who apparently had hidden him away for two years. Without hesitation, she bent down and placed a pair of white guest slippers in front of him. Jeonghan gave her a smile so sweet it could rot teeth, and you realized he'd never be one to falter in charm. You’d admit it, no matter how many times you saw it, he really did have a beautiful smile.

As you both stepped inside, the small herd of kids and elders who had been in the living room just a minute ago, started trailing behind you. You started feeling a little self-conscious. It had been two years since you last dated anyone, and suddenly you couldn't remember how you used to act with Minho, your now ex boyfriend. If you thought about it, two years was a long time; long enough to forget the feel of someone’s hand in yours, or how you used to laugh back then when they were around. But memory had a cruel sense of loyalty, because it never forgot the pain.

How had you even fallen for someone like Minho? Someone who had pursued you first, only to break you later. If you could go back, you’d beg yourself not to say anything that night, to stay strangers.

As you poured Jeonghan a glass of water, your thoughts still swirling, you barely noticed him watching you. He smoothly tugged at the hem of your sleeve, Are you okay? his eyes asked.

You glanced at him and smiled, the smallest shake of your head telling him you were fine, even if you weren't entirely sure it was true.

Just then, your mom appeared in the living room, eyes wide and lit up with relief and happiness when she spotted Jeonghan sitting on the couch. “Oh lord!” she exclaimed, rushing over to you both. “I went to the bathroom for one second—one second, and missed the chance to greet you properly!” Her hands fluttered as she talked, clearly flustered. She was genuinely upset, as though it was absurd that she actually left the moment before Jeonghan rang the bell. The timing was almost too poetic, but that was your mom for you.

She clapped her hands then and ushered everyone to the dining room. “It’s so late now, come on, come on—everyone to the table. Dinner’s ready!”

You and Jeonghan followed her, along with the rest of your extended family. The dining table, of course, wasn't nearly big enough for this many people, so the kids were more than happy to scatter to the living room where the TV held more importance than proper seating.

It was funny how easily you were getting along with Jeonghan. He didn’t seem intimidating when you first met him, but still, you didn’t expect to feel this comfortable around him so soon. This was only the third time you had seen him in person, and yet it felt like you had known him longer. Too long maybe, and too close too fast. You had learned your lesson the hard way. You try not to get attached to people anymore, or at least not easily or carelessly like you did before. And yet... here you were, telling yourself he was just a friend. A good one, sure—genuine, polite, naturally teasing in a way that didn't sting. Like just now, when he handled your relatives’ questions with ease. It made you wonder if he had rehearsed all this in front of a mirror.

They were asking him how you two had met, or, to rephrase it correctly—how he had met the love of his life, as one particularly nosy aunt put it. He was smooth with his answers though, like he had been back at the café when he first met your parents. His voice was calm, a smile curved so sincere, and in some way, every word he said sounded real like it actually had happened. You blinked, trying to hold onto the moment, because truth be told, nothing like what he was saying ever had happened with Minho; not even close. That boy never even tried, and still, despite all the pain he had left you with, despite the way he did you dirty and walked away without a shred of guilt, he still lived rent-free in the back of your mind.

You glanced back at Jeonghan, now answering what he did for a living and why he never had appeared by your side before. His words were golden, the kind that had your relatives gushing and giggling. Words that belonged in fairy tales. But he was no prince, and those stories didn't exist in real life. 

You sighed, picking at the little pile of broccoli on the edge of your plate. You hated broccoli. No matter how it was cooked, it tasted so bitter, bitter like betrayal. But you ate it anyway because your mom would scold you if you didn't. So you pushed through, chewing your fourth and final piece like a true soldier that you were. What you did love, however, was carrots. Carrots were divine. And apparently, Jeonghan had taken notice of that.

Just as you were about to take another bite, two sets of chopsticks appeared over your rice bowl at the exact same time, both holding out perfectly cooked carrot slices. You paused, blinking, your eyes following the utensils back to their owners. Your dad. And Jeonghan.

Smiling, you glanced at your father first, but he wasn't looking at you. He was looking at Jeonghan—with a raised brow and that intimidating dad stares only fathers like yours could master. You shifted your eyes to Jeonghan next. He met your gaze, smiled still gently as ever, and dropped the carrot into your bowl before lowering his chopsticks. He didn't even flinch under your dad’s stare. Your father held his gaze for another second, then, wordlessly, added his carrot to your bowl too.

Shy and oddly happy, you pulled your rice bowl closer to your face, half hiding behind it, trying to focus on eating so no one saw your flustered expression. The table erupted into hushed chuckles including your mom, because she couldn't help herself but to throw marriage blessings your way. People nodded and laughed, and soon everyone shifted focus back to their food, making sure neither you nor Jeonghan felt awkward. 

But in the middle of it all, there was one thing no one noticed.

The small, soft smile curved at the corner of your father’s lips. Because no matter how much of a threat Jeonghan might have seemed in this little game of hearts, to your father—you had always been his little queen.

-

After dinner, everyone began clearing the table, piling dishes into the sink. Thankfully, dishwashing duties didn't fall under your job description in this house. You were technically a guest too, at least that was the excuse you clung to as you quietly tiptoed away from the mess.

You glanced at the clock. It was well past midnight.

That was when it hit you, you hadn't seen Jeonghan in a while, and worse, you hadn't even offered to walk him out yet. The man probably had sacrificed his peaceful night’s sleep just to show up at your family gathering and play pretend boyfriend. The least you could do was make sure he got home safe and as early as possible… or at least wasn't cornered by another round of interrogation.

You wandered through the halls, gently pushing open doors until you found him sitting cross-legged on the floor of the guest room, now completely claimed by your little cousins and their stuffed animals. You blinked, quietly leaning against the doorframe. He looked oddly at peace there, in a room filled with cartoon blankets and sticky fingers.

One of your younger cousins was enthusiastically chatting with him. “So my birthday is next month!” the little boy said, eyes bright. “You have to come, okay?”

Seriously, how does he do that? Kids, moms… even aunties? God. It’s actually scary how easy it is to like him, you wondered. Jeonghan gave him a soft smile, but you could read the hesitation on his face. He was trying to be polite, trying to find a way to decline without crushing tiny dreams. “That sounds fun,” he said slowly, “but I might need to check with—”

Before he could finish, your cousin cut in with an easy solution. “You can just come with Y/N! You’re her boyfriend, duh. You have to come!”

Jeonghan chuckled softly, but before he could respond, you stepped in from the door and cleared your throat. “Alright, birthday boss,” you said with a playful smile. “Jeonghan’s going to be super busy that day, okay? You’ll have to deal with just me.”

Your cousin looked disappointed for a beat before shrugging with a sigh, “Fine… but please at least don't annoy me that day ”

“Deal,” you said, laughing, as you gestured for Jeonghan to follow you out.

He rose, and followed you through the hallway. You led him around the corner of the house, to the narrow balcony space near the laundry room, just private enough without being suspicious.

He quirked an eyebrow at you that resulted in you giving him a dry look. “What?”

“You really won’t let me come to his birthday?” he queried, lips tilting with amused defiance. “I’ll clear my schedule for the kiddo if that’s what it takes to make my pretend girlfriend’s family happy.”

“You looked uncomfortable. I thought you’d want an easy out.”

“I was uncomfortable because I didn’t know if you were okay with me going,” he said honestly, voice softer. “But if you are, I want to come. It’s not a bother.”

Caught slightly off guard, you tried to blink it away, “I’ll… think about it,” you murmured 

“Fair,” he said, leaning against the wall. “So, what’d you really pull me aside for?”

“Oh, I was just gonna tell you to head out before someone tried to chain you to the dining table with dessert.” He snorted, and you glanced at him again, your voice dropping more to the soft range. “Thanks for coming, though. I’m sorry I called last minute and dragged you into this. You were probably asleep, weren’t you?”

“About to be,” he admitted with a laugh. “But it’s okay. I told you, didn’t I? If you ever need saving, just say the word.”

You didn't respond right away, instead you just smiled before whispering, “Let me walk you out.” 

He nodded, and turned to walk toward the front door, but just as he was about to reach for the handle, he paused and glanced back. “Where are your parents?” he asked, almost like he just realized he should say goodbye properly.

You tilted your head, scanning the hallway. “They’re probably… somewhere.”

He didn't take your vague answer, though, so he disappeared back down the hall, and a minute later, you heard familiar voices of your mom’s tone and your dad’s low chuckle and then, Jeonghan’s goodbye. Your aunt insisted he stay the night, even offering him an extra toothbrush and spare pajama set, but Jeonghan politely declined, because of course, he knew what was appropriate and what was not.

Still, your mom told him to come by their house sometime, which also happened to be your living space too. He promised he would, and then finally, walked back to the front door where you were waiting for him.

You caught his eyes one last time and bid, “Goodnight, Jeonghan.”

He gave you a little salute as he walked out of the door. “Goodnight.”

You watched as he stepped outside into the quiet of the night, and then you closed the door behind him with a soft click.

Three

Day 8 of 100

You had hoped this would be your winning year. You had landed the job you had always dreamed of, and now, there was a business trip to Italy; something you had kept on your vision board for years. It felt like everything was aligning at last, but luck never played fair. You had misunderstood the timeline because you had thought the trip would be next month. Turns out, it was this week—right on your mother's 45th birthday.

The company was sponsoring everything—flights, accommodations, even the visa. In return, you and your team would be working on a high-level project that could redefine your career portfolio. It was an opportunity you’ve only dreamed of, and yet, here you were, sitting in front of your laptop with the screen glowing in your dim room, torn between the offer and a woman who meant the world to you. You had been planning her birthday for so long. You had wanted this year to be extravagant, joyful, and different. She had always put everyone else first, and this time, you had wanted her to feel like the star of the world.

Your heart ached. Of course, your mother’s happiness was more important than any job title, any overseas project. You were already drafting a polite email to decline the offer when a soft knock tapped on your door.

She entered, holding a glass of milk, wearing that same smile that always reached you before her words did. "I got the mail from your company earlier," she said, sitting on the edge of your bed. "I opened it by mistake, but... I know it's about your trip to Italy." You stayed quiet, already knowing where this was headed. “I know you’re worried about my birthday,” she continued, offering the glass to you. “But listen to me. This trip is important. You’ve worked so hard for this moment, so don’t let it go just because you want to buy me a cake and hang some balloons.”

“Mom, it’s not just a cake and balloons. I wanted to do something big this year. You deserve that,” you whispered.

“Sweetheart, I don’t need big. I just need to know you’re happy and that you’re doing what you love. That’s enough of a gift for me.” You lowered your gaze, hands wrapped around the warm glass. “Go to Italy,” she said firmly. “Prioritize your future. You can celebrate with me next year, or the year after. But right now, it’s your time.”

You nodded, giving up. “Okay… I’ll go.”

She kissed your forehead, a gesture that still made you feel like a child wrapped in safety. And as she left, you sat back, gulping the milk, your heart swelling.

You would always count your stars that she had chosen to be yours, that she was the one you got to call, Mom. Your life had been stitched with love since the moment you were born, her heartbeat syncing with yours. Everything you were, and everything you would become, was because of her, and because of them; your parents. For their love, their sacrifices, their endless belief in your dreams. You were you… because of them.

Just as you were lost in that warm pool of gratitude, your mother broke the silence again. “So… is Celeste going with you?”

You shook your head slightly, “no, she’s not. She’s already involved in another project. It’ll probably just be me and a few others from the team.”

Your mother hummed, nodding. “And… does Jeonghan know?”

You let out a light exhale. “Not yet. I’ll tell him once it’s finalized.”

There was a moment of pause before she spoke again. “You know,” she began with a familiar lilt, “Jeonghan… I really like him. He’s the best boyfriend you’ve had so far. It’s a mother’s instinct.” She chuckled at her own words like she always did when she said something she believed was completely obvious.

You blinked, looking at her, lips parting with a small smile. There was a wave of relief washing over you, because who knew the random name you nervously muttered would actually turn out to be attached to someone like Jeonghan who was decent, polite, respectful. Not a creep. “Yeah,” you muttered, glancing down. “He’s… nice.”

You knew your mother was right, because every boyfriend you had, you ended up walking away from for one reason or another. But when it came to Minho, your parents were obsessively against the relationship, and still, you didn’t care. You didn’t listen. You were too blinded by a love that you now knew was never truly mutual.

Minho was the only man you genuinely, wholeheartedly fell in love with. You dared admit—no one else ever came close. You loved him in a way that scared you, you loved him in a way that consumed you, and yet… he made you so sad.

He was a fucking terrible person, and yet, you loved him more than anyone deserved to be loved if they were going to treat someone the way he treated you. You remembered the nights he left your messages on read, the way he made you feel like your needs were too much, like your softness was some kind of burden he had to bear. You remembered holding your breath during phone calls, hoping today he wouldn’t be in one of his moods, laced with that mockery he always passed off as jokes.

He didn’t scream or break things, but he broke you in pieces so small you didn’t even notice at first. Little digs at your work, guilt-tripping you for being emotional, never showing up when it actually mattered—when you were sick, when your dad was hospitalized, when you cried and said I really need you right now. And he didn’t come. You were fucking dying inside and he didn’t show up. You still remembered how small you felt clutching your phone, praying he would text, but he didn’t. And when he finally did, it was something so simple like, Did you eat? Like he hadn’t gone missing for days, like he didn’t just leave you all alone to drown in pain that he had promised to be there for.

You knew you deserved better, but you didn’t want better. You wanted him to be better. And that was your downfall, because you held onto hope, onto potential, onto memories from the beginning, when he was kind and sweet and said things like I’ve never met anyone like you. But all of that turned to dust the moment you looked closely. He won you over with his words, but it was his actions that made you walk away.

Your parents begged you to let go. Your friends tried to shake some sense into you, but love didn't always listen to reason, and you… you were stupid in love. And now, looking back, the part that hurt most was how long you stayed naive, how long you let him stay in your life, how long you made excuses for him when he didn’t deserve a single one. You hated him, but you hated yourself more for loving him.

Snapping you back, your mother took the empty glass from your hands as she stood up. “Get some sleep, okay?”

You nodded, offering a ‘Goodnight’ before she walked out and closed the door behind her.

Without even glancing back at your laptop or your skincare shelf, you pushed yourself off the bed, trudged into the bathroom, brushed your teeth half-asleep, and threw yourself onto the mattress as soon as you were done.

- 

Your manager in charge was a certified piece of shit. There was no other way to put it. He had been dumping a mountain of unnecessary workload on you for the last three days, which was an obvious attempt to wear you down before the Italy project even began. You know his type; a man who thought women were only good for pretty presentations and coffee runs. It was disgusting. It got under your skin in ways you couldn't even articulate without gritting your teeth.

Right then, he was yelling, loud and pointless. Screaming at you for things that weren't even part of your damn job description—the audacity. Beside you stood Celeste and Seungkwan, both fuming in silence. Their fists were clenched so tightly, you were convinced their fingernails were permanently embedded into their palms. From the corner of your eye, you could see them both with their heads lowered, trying not to explode, but you knew them. If it weren’t for their upcoming promotions hanging in the balance, Seungkwan would’ve already flattened that pitiful nose into something even more pathetic, and Celeste would've kicked him where the sun didn't shine. God bless their restraint. If what they had worked so hard for wasn't hanging by a thread, they would've already thrown hands right there, right then, in front of HR, God, and everyone, and they wouldn’t even have regretted it. They would've walked to the police station whistling.

Just when you thought the day couldn't get any more heated, the CEO walked in. Mrs. Kim. Your boss’s boss. The actual authority in the building; a woman. The very species your manager seemed to despise with his whole shriveled heart, and maybe that was why he was divorced and hadn't gotten laid since forever.

She walked in, looked at the three of you, then her eyes moved to the manager. “What’s going on here?”

Before any of you could speak, he jumped in, sugarcoating everything, and hearing his version of events, how he was ‘just trying to guide his team to success’ made all three of you visibly nauseous.

Seungkwan was the first to speak, voice sweet as syrup but sharp as a knife. “Oh, yes, we're definitely being guided.”

That statement with that tone, made the CEO raise a brow. Celeste didn't wait, she stepped in calmly and confidently. “We understand deadlines, but lately the amount of off-task work being pushed onto us has started affecting the actual projects we’re assigned to. It’s just becoming difficult to prioritize what’s actually important.” She didn't whine or plead, she simply spoke facts with clarity and class.

Mrs. Kim turned to the manager, “why are they doing extra work that doesn’t align with their primary responsibilities? These three are handling a high-level project—one that has international visibility. I expect their full energy to be focused on that.” The manager sputtered, trying to defend himself, but Mrs. Kim shut it down gracefully, yet firmly. “Respect your team. Don’t misuse their time because you misunderstand their value. Let this be the last conversation we have about this.”

A girl’s girl, through and through. A CEO who got it, and as she walked away, Seungkwan muttered under his breath, “I’d die for her.” You didn't even have the strength to laugh, because you were too busy mentally high-fiving her in your head.

Your manager in charge still didn't look remotely ashamed, just let out an ignorant sigh and shooed the three of you away like he was the victim, but whatever, you were too tired to deal with male mediocrity right then, so you just complied.

On the way back to your desks, Seungkwan leaned closer and threw a “Lunch date?” your way. It was actually pretty normal and nothing new. Platonic lunch dates were kind of your and Seungkwan's thing—matching eye rolls and stealing each other’s fries. Celeste might have been your closest cousin, and your ride-or-die since childhood, but Seungkwan was your bestie, your lunch break soulmate, the lawless good to your tired neutral. Who said you needed only one close person when life handed you more than one decent human being?

You nodded at his offer and plopped back into your seat, immediately drawn to the growing pile of papers on your desk, the ones about the Italy trip and your high-profile project. You uncapped your signature green pen [because black and blue are for amateurs] and started scribbling notes. Mid-marking, your phone buzzed, and without thinking, you assumed it was your mom because who else would it have been at that hour aside from Celeste or Seungkwan—and they were right there, but no, it wasn't your mom. It was Jeonghan.

He was asking if you were free for lunch. You glanced at Seungkwan, who was already halfway through planning his order in his head, you texted back.

You smiled. Sipped the lukewarm coffee from your desk, and went back to highlighting your to-do list.

-

Seungkwan scanned the menu and orders a burger that was apparently ‘new and calling his name’. He recommended the same one to you, so you checked the picture on the menu and yeah, you weren't not gonna lie, it did look scrumptious.

He immediately started ranting about how he was on a diet and how Vernon didn't diet with him, and how that clearly meant Vernon didn't love him enough.

You laughed right in his face. “Vernon doesn’t need to starve himself to prove he loves you, babe.”

Seungkwan glared but sulked in silence, grumbling about how he was probably just in ‘male menstruation mode.’

You took a bite of your burger—he wasn’t wrong, it was divine. But before you could get too far, Seungkwan nearly spat out his iced americano as something suddenly went through his head, “Okay, so Celeste told me you have a boyfriend now? Since WHEN? You literally said, and I quote, ‘I’m done with love.’ Like, girl, what?!”

You gave him a look and shrugged. “You should know better than to believe Celeste with her three and a half brain cells.”

But the truth was, you did say that. Two years ago, drunk off your ass, crying over an asshole, bawling into Celeste’s shoulder, snot and all, swearing off love because it was a contagious disease, and you meant every single thing back then. Part of you still did, you didn't believe love was for you.

You sighed and finally explained what really happened; how Jeonghan became your boyfriend. Fake boyfriend to be, and how Jeonghan, saint that he was, actually agreed to play along.

Seungkwan stared at you for a solid five seconds, then: “Girl… I want to judge you, but I’m weirdly impressed.”

You just groaned and plopped back in your chair, sipping the last of your watered-down coffee.

He then asked if you were going to the team building party that week. “Obviously,” you said, “you think I’d miss out on free food and gossip?” He snorted, satisfied with your, you kinda answer, and the two of you finished up lunch before heading back to the office.

You buried yourself in paperwork, prepping everything for the Italy trip. Your green pen glided across the documents—marking the hotel addresses, underlining budget breakdowns, drawing tiny stars next to notes. You were so into the zone that you didn't notice when your work chat pinged. It was from the front desk. The CEO wanted to see you.

You low-key froze because that was a big deal. It wasn't not everyday the CEO called you up, and while she wasn't the biting-heads-off type, it was still nerve-wracking.

You climbed the stairs—the elevators were reserved for upper management at that time of the day. Classism at its finest. You rolled your eyes, like, please, how much money was the company really saving by keeping one elevator out of use? It was giving ‘penny-pinching villain arc’.

Finally, you reached her office, knocked politely, and heard a warm, come in.

You entered, instantly wrapped in that elegant aura Mrs. Kim always carried. She was poised, sharp, and always smelled like fresh roses and justice; a woman you wanted to write poems about. She smiled. “Have a seat.” You did—respectfully, obediently. She was the boss for a reason.

You’d always admired her, but not just for her presence, but for how she consistently sided with the employees whenever an overzealous senior acted out of line, e.g. like that morning. She knew you by face, name, and the quality of your work, though your interactions had mostly been limited to the occasional office circus or passing greetings in the hallway. 

She started, “I know you’ve been reviewing the design documentation for the Italy project,” and you nodded. You updated her on what you’d done so far: layout revisions, material specs, budget adjustments—everything. She nodded along, then sighed lightly. “I’m sorry to throw this at you, but I wanted to speak to you directly. There’s a new assignment,” she paused before continuing again. “I know it’s not what you signed up for right now,” she said, “but a very important client specifically requested you for a new project. He saw your portfolio and won’t take no for an answer.” She continued, “It’s a bar. Both interior and exterior design. He wants it done by you, and only you.”

Men and their obsession with being picky, you muttered in your head.

“But,” she added, “you won’t have to start until after the Italy trip. The schedule is flexible, the budget is very accommodating… and he’s paying double your usual fee.”

Now that caught your attention. “Okay,” you said slowly, “I’ll happily consider it once I check the brief and make sure I’m actually capable of delivering what he wants. I’ll speak to my manager—”

She stopped you there. “Actually, no. You won’t need to discuss it with him. It’s already been approved. The details will be sent once you return from Italy.”

Huh? You nodded, but your brain was half-screaming. This sounded a little too good to be true; great pay, great flexibility, total creative freedom—but no option to say no, and no brief until you’re back? Yeah. Red flag. He might have been rich, but he was still giving mild bastard energy. Still, you nodded again. “Understood.”

You thanked her, left the room, and walked back to your desk. At least the pay was great, all was well for now.

Day 10 of 100

You were wearing a silk ivory blouse with a subtle sweetheart neckline, tucked into high-waisted slate-grey tailored trousers that hugged your waist just right. Over that, a light beige trench coat draped you, the sleeves slightly pushed up to show off your simple silver bracelet. You had paired the outfit with pointed-toe nude heels, pearl stud earrings, and your hair was done in a half-up loose twist, soft waves cascading down your back. You were so glad you had worn something put together that day. After successfully convincing Seungkwan to switch your lunch date with Celeste instead, with the promise of paying for dessert next time, you headed out of the office with a slight skip in your step. You strolled down the pavement, one hand in your coat pocket, the other holding your phone with Jeonghan’s pinned location glowing on the screen. You finally arrived, stopped and gaped.

The restaurant in front of you was stunning. Soft cream stonework, vines grew over the edges of a wooden pergola, delicate white drapes danced with the wind. There was outdoor seating bathed in golden sunlight; the whole vibe screamed expensive, and summer-soft. 

You were too caught up in soaking in the place to notice footsteps approaching, until a voice leaned over your right shoulder. “You like it?”

You jolted and instinctively, you stepped back and pivoted to your left, hand brushed against the edge of your coat as you turned to face the source of the surprise. “Jesus, you scared me!” you half-laughed, pressing a hand to your chest as you exhaled.

Jeonghan, in a light blue linen shirt tucked into beige trousers, grinned down at you. “Sorry,” he chuckled, “wasn’t trying to scare you.”

The sunlight kissed your cheekbones as you smiled, a little breathless from the jump scare. But Jeonghan, he went completely still. His smile faded, but not in a bad way, but in a speechless kind of awe. His gaze softened, eyes lingering on you, trying to memorize every detail: your earrings catching light, how your blouse moved with the breeze, the way you’re smiling not even knowing what you were doing to him.

You waved your hand in front of his face. “Hello? Earth to Jeonghan? Are you good?”

He cleared his throat, finally snapping out of whatever trance he had been in. “Right—yeah. Sorry. You just…” He scratched the back of his neck, then held out a bouquet wrapped in rustic white paper—pale pink roses and sprigs of baby’s breath peeking out. “…You look beautiful.” 

You took the flowers, smiled, but not bashful or not giddy, just unfazed; you refused to let any man, no matter how sweet or charming or kind-eyed, have that kind of effect on you again. You had spent too long rebuilding yourself, too long sealing every crack Minho had left behind, and you were not about to let someone slip through them again just because he smelled good and brought you flowers. So you didn't blush anymore, there was no blush creeping up your cheeks but your ears betrayed you. The tips of your ears were red as fuck.

Jeonghan led you to one of the umbrella-covered tables nestled beneath the sunlight, which filtered just enough to feel warm, not harsh. The breeze was soft, carrying the scent of fresh herbs and baked bread. It felt really like a European afternoon even though it was just noon here, but you let yourself enjoy it.

He pulled your chair out like a proper gentleman, and for a second, your breath caught but because of the wrong reason; your ex used to do that too. But you shook the thought off. This wasn't Minho, not everything needed to circle back to him. This is just a nice gesture, you told yourself. A decent man doing a decent thing.

You settled in. Jeonghan smiled and gestured toward the menu. “Order what you want,” he said, resting his chin on his hand, watching you with the smile he always seemed to carry.

When the waiter came, you ordered with a small smile, “Can I get the smoked salmon sandwich with scrambled eggs, and a vanilla iced latte?”

The waiter nodded and Jeonghan chimed in, “Same for me. And can you add a basket of your warm mini scones too? Thanks.”

Your gaze shifted to him, taking him in again. He was dressed well. It wasn't a suit, but it was still effortlessly stylish. Still, you couldn't help but chuckle internally—he ran a café chain, you had expected suits and ties like a K-drama CEO 24/7 but everytime you saw him, his aura was of a human, of a nice man.

The silence settled in as the waiter walked away, and it was kinda awkward. Not bad, just not easy either. You fidgeted slightly with your napkin and broke the silence, “By the way, I forgot to thank you the other day at my aunt’s place… thanks for sending lunch to my office. That was really sweet.”

Jeonghan tilted his head, brushing it off with a soft chuckle. “It’s no big deal. Like I said… I’m wooing you, remember? That means I’ll do things like that. You’re my love interest now.” He said it with a teasing smile, but the sincerity didn't go unnoticed.

You bit the inside of your cheek, unsure how to respond for a second. “I mean… you can do whatever you want,” you murmured, eyes going to the complimentary glass of water. “It’s just��like I said before, my heart’s kinda… closed. I’m not really looking for anything, so… I don’t want you to be disappointed if I don’t change my mind.”

He nodded. “I get that. But I said I’d try. We made a deal, and I still have… what, 90 days?” he grinned. “Just let me do what I want. No pressure.”

You nodded again, this time shyer. “Okay…”

Another short silence followed, but Jeonghan filled it with a question. “So how’s work been?”

“Oh, I’m heading to Italy for a project. It’s sort of a business trip but I’m hoping I can sneak in some vacation time.”

His eyebrows raised slightly, impressed. “ Italy? Fancy.”

You nodded, stirring your straw. “Yeah. I’m excited but… I was supposed to celebrate my mom’s birthday this week with her. And now I won’t be here, which sucks.” You looked at him hesitantly. “Would you mind… joining a video call with her? Just to wish her a happy birthday with me. She really likes you and it’d make her smile.”

Jeonghan didn't even hesitate for a second. “Of course, and you don’t need to ask if I’d like to do something for you,” resting his elbows on the table, he leaned slightly forward. “The answer will always be yes. So don’t think twice. Just tell me.”

That might have been the nicest thing anyone’s said to you in a while. The waiter returned with your food, placing the plates in front of you. The sandwiches were golden and buttery, eggs perfectly soft. The smell alone made you sigh.

Jeonghan clasped his hands. “Let’s dig in, shall we?”

After brunch, Jeonghan insisted on giving you a ride back to the office. His car, already parked earlier before he stepped into the restaurant, sat sleek and waiting. You remembered how he'd found you standing there, mouth parted in awe at the view of the restaurant—now it made sense, he’d arrived early whereas you walked there. He drove a black Audi A8 L, and everything about it, from the glossy sheen to the whisper-quiet engine, spoke of understated luxury. Being the owner of chains, you always assumed he was very well-off, but after sitting in his leather-wrapped cabin, there was no doubt—he was rich rich. Not just wealthy, but smelled polished and wealthy too.

The ride was quiet, but not uncomfortably so. He talked to you about small things, light things. He mentioned how he wanted to do more for you, soon, once a little more time had passed.

You were a woman of few words, and he respected that. You didn't say much, but you were already... comfortable. Being around him felt like sunlight through a window, warm and golden; wrapped in a blanket still carrying the warmth and scent of the sun on a winter morning.

Back at the office, time passed like pages fluttering in a breeze, and soon, it was almost time to leave for the evening’s team building party. You had missed the last one because of a fever, but that night, you were ready. Those nights, especially with Celeste and Seungkwan by your side, always promised laughter and fun. They were the most fun people to be around at parties.

-

Your body reacted before your mind caught up, and you moved back, a step, maybe two. The closer this man came, the more your instincts coiled tightly within. A breath's space became half a step, then a full one. Your fingers curled tightly around your purse strap, your throat drying with each beat of the music thudding like a war drum in your chest. You were disgusted to say the least. 

Celeste had vanished into the crowd, tipsy and gleeful, her laughter now a memory swallowed by bass and bodies. Seungkwan was in the restroom, and you whispered silent prayers into the air. Please come back. Now. Please. But instead, he came closer.

His breath reeked of alcohol and something sourer; bitterness, maybe. The look in his eyes was familiar, kind of that once stripped you of peace. "You look good," he sneered, lips twisted, voice drenched in mockery.

You felt it then: rage, disgust, and fear rising from the pit of your stomach. "Shut the fuck up," you stepped back again. "Don’t touch me."

He ignored it like he always did. His feet shuffled closer, lazily. Your back brushed against a counter. You were running out of space. “I’ve been thinking about us,” he slurred. “We can fix this. You know we can.”

You almost laughed, but your voice trembled like a blade. “You broke everything. You ruined me. You fucking hollowed me out and smiled about it.” Still no tears spilled, they hung in your eyes.

He tilted his head mockingly. “Still dramatic, I see.”

“I was miserable with you.” Each of your words was a stone hurled. “You gaslit me, degraded me, manipulated every breath I took and still had the gall to call it love.” Your voice rose the more you speak. “You were a fucking asshole. Are a fucking asshole.”

That was when his expression shifted, something flashed in his eyes; violence barely contained, he moved faster. With a growl, he swooped in, his arm slamming against yours, pinning it down to the counter behind you. The marble was cold beneath your skin. His hand caged your wrist. You're leaned back, your spine arching slightly, nowhere to run. His body hovered far too close, and that was when the tears began to spill.

He leaned in until his breath warmed your cheek. “Those words… they don’t suit your pretty little mouth,” he whispered with a sneer. Then, his fingers gripped your face, cruelly and crudely, pressing your cheeks together, forcing your lips into a shape you didn't own. “Who is it, huh?” His voice was poison dipped in curiosity. “Who are you fucking now, since it’s not me?”

Your limbs shook but your spine stayed straight. Somewhere in the haze of lights and laughter, his friends—if you could call them that—stood at a distance, watching, and laughing. Your pain was once again, another kind of entertainment.

All you were hoping now was for someone in this sea of people, to be decent enough. Just one man with a spine, a conscience, something resembling a soul.

Or, God, let Celeste or Seungkwan find you. Because if they saw this… If they saw your trembling form pinned, tears running down your cheeks, your lips being forced into a shape not your own; hell wouldn’t just break loose, it would bleed.

Celeste would have turned into a beast, rage that ripped through bone and skin with heels sharp enough to slice throats and a fury only a woman can wield after watching her sister break. She’d scream murder, tear at his face like it was paper, her nails dragging blood down his cheek, down his pride. She’d laugh while doing it, vengeful and beautiful.

And Seungkwan—he’d see red, nothing but red. He wouldn’t stop until someone dragged him off, until every punch left a mark, until the bastard begged on his knees with his face bloated and black. He’d spit down on him.You touch her again, and I’ll break every single one of your fingers until you forget how to be a man.

But they weren't here.

Just as he was about to forcefully kiss you while your head was twisting away but his hand trying to clamp your jaw still, trying to oppress you to submit; he’s suddenly gone.

Pushed hard, a weight crashed against the floor with a hollow thud. Your breath caught, chest was rising and falling in erratic jolts. You barely registered what had happened, but then, your eyes met his. That face etched in concern, eyes gentle for a moment until they flicked down to the filth on the floor. Then they shifted to rage again; controlled.

The man on the ground groaned, his ego bruised deeper than his spine, tried to get up, but he crouched beside him with chilling ease. Fingers reached out and plucked the name tag pinned to the bastard’s chest. “Park Minho,” he murmured like a curse.

Minho snarled. “Who the fuck are you to mess with me?” His fist launched but his hand moved faster, catching it mid-air, holding it steady, not violently but commandingly.

“Jeonghan. Her boyfriend.”

Minho lunged again, but this time, Jeonghan didn't flinch. He just moved, twisting enough to let the man’s weight tip himself off balance, and that’s when the owner rushed in. The music cut off, lights flashed red and blue outside the sheer window. Police.

“Mr. Yoon, I’m so sorry,” the bar owner panted, glancing between Jeonghan and the wreck on the floor. “I had no idea he would—he’s fired. He’s done. He’ll never work here again.” Two officers grabbed Minho by the arms, he thrashed, cursed, but it was over.

You didn't even realize your legs had given out earlier, until Jeonghan was kneeling before you. You were on the floor, knees scraped, mascara streaked, eyes wide and blank. He said nothing at first, just held your arms gently. He picked you up, but your head fell on his shoulder. Then you started shaking. Sobs erupted, no longer contained. You clutched at his shirt, trembling, your soul was trying to crawl out of your body.

Jeonghan pulled you closer, one hand on the back of your head, the other around your back. He rocked you gently, a murmur at your ear. “It’s okay. You’re safe. I’ve got you.” His voice was low, raw, not above a whisper. “I’ll always protect you. No one will ever lay a finger on you again.” He kissed the side of your head, his breath trembling along yours, too. “If anyone dares touch you again—if anyone dares hurt you—I’ll bury them myself. I don’t care if my hands get bloody. I will end them for you.”

You didn't answer, not because you couldn't, but because words felt too fragile to carry the weight of what just happened and what he said. The lights spun like distant planets and the crowd hummed around you, oblivious and indifferent. He was achingly kind, his shoulder was there, warm, a borrowed sanctuary in the aftermath. You were grateful, but you didn't want to be seen by anyone like this right now. Your voice was small, trembling only at the edges. “I want to be alone… I don’t want to see you right now. But… thank you.” You didn't meet his eyes.

Everything had happened in the span of ten minutes, but to you, it felt like ten years; slow, stretched, jagged. Time warped cruelly in the dark, by then the din had drawn others. You heard them before you saw them—your coworkers murmuring, shifting, clustering like confused birds after a storm, and then, Celeste appeared.

Disheveled, tipsy, and horrified, she rushed forward and dropped to the ground beside you, wrapping you in the scent of vanilla and liquor and the desperate ache of guilt. Her arms pulled you away from him and into the safety of her embrace. “I’m sorry,” she whispered over and over, stroking your hair like you were a breakable glass. “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have left. I shouldn’t have disappeared.”

Jeonghan, who was silent and observant, took a step back. He didn't fight your decision. He just watched from a respectful distance, assessing the new guardian that had taken his place. Her eyes were glassy, and even in her inebriated haze, she was more present than most sober men here ever were. “Is there someone I can trust,” Jeonghan asked the crowd, scanning, “to take both of them home?”

A voice rose from the group, mostly from her coworkers that had been present at the party. “Seungkwan. He didn’t drink, so he’s probably the best to—”

Jeonghan was already walking toward the assumed coworker. “Who is Seungkwan?” he asked, tone neutral but outlined with the protectiveness of a man who didn't want to hand over what he’d just protected, to a stranger. And as if conjured by name, he arrived.

His knees hit the ground the moment he saw you slumped against Celeste. His hands trembled as he reached out, stopping himself just before touching you, as if your pain might be contagious. He looked at you, then at Celeste, then at the space around, putting the pieces together without a single word being spoken. His expression hardened into pure fury concealed beneath tight control. “What the fuck happened here?!” His voice cracked through the air. “Tell me who the hell did this. Tell me, and I swear on every grave beneath this city—I will tear him apart with my own hands.” His fists curled. “I’ll fucking gut that bastard and bury what’s left. You think I won’t? You think I can’t? I’ll make it look like an accident and sleep just fine at night.”

Celeste flinched but reached out a hand to him, still cradling you. “Kwan… please. Just wait.”

But Jeonghan had seen enough of this, so he stepped forward in careful assessment. He laid a hand on Seungkwan’s shoulder. Seungkwan’s gaze dropped to the hand as if it was an insult. He didn't look up for three full seconds. He was waiting for a response from Jeonghan, and Jeonghan spoke before that moment died. “Do you have a girlfriend? Or do you like either of them?”

The question felt abrupt, even intrusive, but Jeonghan knew better than to let two emotionally unstable women be left in the care of someone who might have had complicated feelings for them. It wasn't a call to be made lightly, and certainly not one a level-headed man like him would ignore.

Seungkwan’s eyes flashed from the implication, his jaw locked, blood rising to his eyes, but before the storm erupted—“This is Jeonghan,” Celeste cut in hoarsely. “And Seungkwan has a boyfriend.”

There was a pause, then a shared oh between the two men; mutual clarity, and just like that, Jeonghan stepped away, surrendering you both into the care of someone he now deemed safe.

Celeste informed, “I called Joshua. He’s on his way to pick us up.”

Jeonghan nodded once, eyes on you. You still hadn't looked at him since, and he doesn't press for more. You had asked not to see him, and he honoured it, and walked away for now.

Something in you broke tonight, and something in him awakened.

⌦ 🥕 © mylovesstuffs | est. 2025. thank you for reading—your reblog means everything. until we meet again, stay cozy and keep dreaming! ◜ᴗ◝

[suevi-if]

Suevi is an interactive fiction WIP - Chapter 1 out now!

This story is about finding love and surviving in Ancient Rome... as a Germanic slave.

[Demo Link]

Prologue - 5.5k words (without code)

Chapter 1 - 21.5k words (without code) - added June 8th 2025

[genres: romance, historical fiction, low fantasy, dark]

This book is for mature audience only (18+). It's currently still in early development and everything released is subject to possible change. The book will contain mature themes like slavery, abuse of any kind, sexual content (mostly optional), death of people and animals (the latter for food and sacrificial purposes), diseases, suicidal ideations, homophobia, transphobia, body dysmorphia, possible self mutilation, swearing, attempted non consensual intercourse (this is not a definitive list of triggers!).

There will be trigger warnings at the beginning of each chapter.

This is a work of fiction. Wherever possible and plausible, I incorporate information that is available about how Germanic tribes lived, how Germanic slaves were treated, what life in a Roman city looked like etc.

However, especially about the Germanic tribes, and about the timeframe I chose, there is only very little information. They did have runes but only used them for ritualistic purposes, never to write anything down; they had no written languages. Because of that, actual legitimate information is extremely scarce, and the information that we have is mostly written from an "enemy" point of view - the Romans.

I might somewhat substitute with things we know about the vikings, which technically also were Germanic tribes, but they lived quite some hundred years after the timespan I aim for the main story of this IF to be set in (which is essentially shortly after/around 14 CE).

Other choices and possible changes of actual facts/information about the historical times and people are made for flavour and for the readers' comfort.

Because some people don't seem to understand:

I am not a historian. I am merely one person researching and writing this as a hobby. It will not be 100% historically accurate. It is still a work of fiction and I take creative liberties.

Movies with massive budgets and several research assistants have historical inaccuracies in them. Please let me also have some.

After a skirmish close to the Roman border, you are captured and transported to a city. Your capturer forces you into slavery and sells you off to a patrician family — wealthy Romans, in social and political standings only underneath the Emperor.

Desperately you try to adapt to these new circumstances — you don't even speak their language, know nothing about their culture... It's a whole different world for you. At first, you struggle to even communicate with the people that call themselves your "familia". Will you manage to live amongst them, or will you refuse to obey the rules and orders you are unfamiliar with?

What will your fate be? Will you stay with your new family, will you try to escape to your old family, or will you look for a better future elsewhere?

Will you try to abandon old beliefs and adapt to new ones? Or is the hold of the old Gods too strong on you to let go?

And what role does the person who enslaved you really play in all of this?

Customize your own Suevi — choose your sex, gender, sexuality, looks, the God you mainly pray to and your former occupation (depending on the tribe you are from).

Pick one of five love interests (includes one poly option):

Ing (Ingunn/Ingram), the quiet and angry Cherusci servant (f/m) [Tropes: Friends (to Enemies) to Lovers // Clueless Love // REDACTED]

Aquila (always named Aquila), the cheerful, friendly Roman artist (m/f/nb) [Trope: Sex first, feelings later — Fast burn fling, Slow burn romance]

D (Dewognata/Dagomaros), the Gaul weaver with a tragic backstory (f/m) [Tropes: Rescue Romance // (Not so) Secret Admirer]

Nefer (Nefertari/Neferkare), the chronically tired, sarcastic Nubian merchant (f/m) [Trope: Secret identity/Dark secret]

Xen (Xeno/Xenon), the gentle and wise Greek teacher (f/m) [Tropes: Single Parent // Child as matchmaker // Age gap]

Poly option: MC x Ing x Aquila

Find love, have a good time with no strings attached (flings!) or just do your own thing (and hopefully escape slavery).

FAQ

Support me on Patreon (extra content and early access!)

Support me on Ko-Fi (extra content and early access!)

Buy me a coffee (and have my eternal gratitude <3)

Popular tags (for each RO, RO reactions etc.)

Physical description RO's

RO Moodboards

Play the demo here!

Immersive playlist (Youtube Music)

Also, this is my first IF and I haven't written anything major really for the past 10 years — so I might be somewhat rusty in some parts and completely new to other parts (namely, ChoiceScript). If you have tips, tricks, resources to learn/get better and constructive criticism, or you found any bugs or mistakes in my demo, I'd love to hear from you!

Thank you so much for reading, I hope you'll enjoy my story!

[misserabella]

two geniuses (don’t get along)

enemies to lovers;; spencer reid x fem reader!

masterlist!

note; in this fic lila’s episode happens after elle’s departure to make the story have more sense. (S1 E18). also there have been some changes :))

synopsis; spencer reid; doctor spencer reid. some of them (mostly of them), would say he’s a genius. but if he was, then so you were. maybe that’s why you hate each other. maybe that’s why you can’t stand him.

cw;; +18 content! minors dni!, reader and spencer’s competitive asses, talk of murder, graphic scenes, weapons, guns, blood, shots being fired, lila flirting, spencer kissing lila, lots of fighting, lots of tension, teasing, apologies, reader getting hurt (mentions of stitches), threats, murder of secondary characters, talk about kinks and trauma (spencer being a smartaas), mention of spencer’s childhood and her mom… ( i bet there’s so much more but i can’t remember rn) angst, fluff and smut in upcoming chapters!!!

“another coffee, pretty boy? you wanna die?” morgan inquired the puppy eyed profiler, whose right hand held a cup of freshly brewed coffee.

“actually, the caffeine in coffee has been found in animal and cell studies to protect cells in the brain that produce dopamine. in a large prospective cohort of more than 500,000 people followed for 10 years, an association was found between drinking higher amounts of coffee and lower rates of death from all causes.” he easily spat in less than a mere minute, making morgan scoff.

“it’s not considered coffee if a 99% of it is sugar, reid.” you barged into their conversation, taking a look at the files of new cases.

“sugar is one type of carbohydrate, as are fiber and starch. carbohydrates are essential macronutrients.” he defended himself, taking a sip of his coffee-sugar.

“wrong. although carbohydrates are essential macronutrients since the body uses them in large amounts, something wrong about your thesis is that sugar is not one of those macronutrients. the body doesn’t use it. in fact, the effects of added sugar intake which are higher blood pressure, inflammation, weight gain, diabetes, and fatty liver disease, are all linked to an increased risk for heart attack and stroke. so yeah. technically, morgan was right. you might die.” you nodded towards the man, who smiled at you, walking towards you and taking your face in between his hands.

“have i told you how much i love that brain of yours?” he inquired, leaving a kiss to your forehead. “brilliant.” he smiled, raising his hands in victory since for once he had won spencer and his extensive knowledge. the profiler simply rolled his eyes.

“thanks.” spencer spat at you, to what you smiled.

“you’re very welcome, agent.”

“it’s doctor.”

“yeah, yeah. whatever.”

spencer reid. with an IQ of 187, an eidetic memory, and the ability to read 20,000 words per minute, he was considered a real walking genius. maybe that’s why the two of you seemed to despise each other so much. people say geniuses actually like each other. well, you and spencer were the exception. it was easy to get on his nerves. he was not used to having someone smart enough to actually suppose a threat to his intelligence. yet there you were. you had been jumping your way up to college since you were twelve, and at the ripe age of 22, and numerous phds later, you had found yourself working at the BAU.

you had been hired after elle had left the team, and everyone had seemed happy greeting you. you had specially made quick friends of penelope and morgan. something reid didn’t seem to like. well… he didn’t exceptionally like you. something that seemed stupid ‘cause you two were the perfect pair. there was nothing the two of you didn’t know, nothing you wouldn’t catch or realize. maybe that’s why spencer despised you. ‘cause now they had you too, not only him.

it was actually a pity. you liked smart people. you liked to share opinions and learn new things you might not know with the help of others. but spencer was borderline narcissistic, and that made your body cringe in disgust. and worst of all, he was really attractive. curly caramel hair, hazel puppy eyes, full lips, small straight nose, tall stature, pretty hands… also his voice…

well, anyways. you were losing focus.

so you’d decided to match his energy. and that only seemed to make the situation worse. sure, you two worked together, but only because you had to, if you could you’d much prefer to do everything alone rather than have to share office with reid.

hotch caught your attention as he pushed a file on your table.

“and what’s this…?” you sung as you took it, inspecting it.

“training program in los angeles.” you looked at him. he was leaning against your table. “want you to go with gideon and reid.” you let out a single chuckle, tossing the paper on your table.

“no.” you simply said, watching the man sigh. “tell jj to go! or prentiss!” you offered.

“can’t. jj is helping penelope to trace an unsub and prentiss is new, need someone who has been on the ropes longer.”

“then what about morgan? he’s not doing anything.” you pointed at the man who played with a mini football.

hotch looked at you. “please? you are the only one who gets reid. you know how he can be…”

“a narcissistic, egocentric, babbling, childlike, fourteen looking mess? yeah, i know.” you smiled. “but what do i win in this situation? i mean i must gain something if i’m gonna spend more time than necessary with him.”

“a free weekend.”

“done.” you gave him your hand. “a pleasure doing business with you, sir.”

-

“spencer! spencer reid!” you hear someone call for your work-mate, a tall smiling man approaching him and shaking his hand just as the three of you entered an art exhibition. “look at you. you look just the same.” he chuckled as he gives him a quick hug. “nothing changed… spencer was the only 12-year-old in our graduating class. just the same.”

“thanks.” spencer awkwardly says, giving the man a tight smile. “these are special agents jason gideon and (y/n) (l/n). this is parker dunley. we went to high school together as you can probably gather.” he introduces all of you.

“hey. it’s a beautiful gallery.” jason gives him his hand in a shake.

“oh, thank you, thank you. parker smiles, later on turning towards you.

“contemporary art… right?” you inquire offering him your hand, to what he nods. “contemporary modern art includes a wide range of mediums and genres. it is often characterized by its use of new media, such as video and installation art, as well as its rejection of traditional art forms. contemporary modern artists often experiment with form and content, and their work can be highly conceptual.” you say, making the man chuckle.

“i see you brought your computers.” parker jokes with gideon about spencer and you. “another genius like spencer?”

“oh no, men are just smart. woman are the geniuses.” you smile, making him chuckle.

“and funny, huh? i see, i see.”

spencer coughs to grab the man’s attention. “jason’s a big contemporary art enthusiast.”

“well, we’re exhibiting four up-and-coming artists in this show. everything is for sale. and i could definitely swing a nice discount for a friend of…” he loses focus as a blonde beautiful woman enters the exhibition. “lila! hey. guys, come on.” he invites you three towards his friend, coming up to her to say hello.

“do i look 12-years-old to you?” spencer inquired gideon, to what you scoffed, thanking the waiter that offered and served you a glass of champagne.

“oh, totally.” you said as you took it, taking a sip as you heard spencer crack a fake laugh.

“real funny.”

you three made your way towards parker and… lila. she was a beautiful blue eyes-blonde young girl. the basic american beauty standard.

“spencer. you ever met a real movie star?” the man asks, to what the girl beside the blonde scoffs.

“movie star? please. she has a supporting role on a television series about beach volleyball. totally blue-collar.” your eyebrows slightly rise.

“what a friend…” you whisper to your glass, taking another sip of the champagne.

“i’m lila.” the girl gives a sweet smile to spencer, and you almost roll your eyes.

it’s only a matter of time.

“hi, im doctor spencer reid… i’m spencer. you don’t have to call me doctor.” he corrects himself.

lila chuckles. in 3… 2… 1… and tucks her hair behind her ear. there we go.

“cool.” you say, turning around without even introducing yourself, it’s not as if she’d pay attention to you. she’s too focused on spencer to care as you make your way through the gallery, taking the artwork in, trying to scape the probable flirting that was about to go down.

later on you found the two of them chatting in front of a picture in which the blue and green dominate.

“does it make you feel anything?” the blonde asked him, and you silently expect an answer from spencer.

“like what?” he asks. god he sucks.

“i can’t tell you how to feel.” lila chuckles at his frown.

“right now i feel pretty good.” he smiled and you roll your eyes.

“lila? can i talk to you for a moment?” parker interrupts their chatting and the girl nods, quickly glancing at spencer.

“excuse me.”

“sure!” he gently says, and you make your way towards him.

“feeling pretty good, huh?” you inquire him, teasingly, and he groans. “you totally suck.” you take a sip of your glass and he looks at you. “poor girl seems desperate.”

“desperate for what?” he inquires, frowning.

“oh come on, reid. and you call yourself a profiler? it’s obvious she likes you. she was trying to flirt with you.” you obviously state. “she was trying so hard and you were not catching on…” you laugh, and he sighs.

“you know ogling on other’s business is rude, right?” he questions you.

“we’re the fbi. we’re on everybody’s business. that’s our job, reid.” you ignore him, taking a look at the photograph lila and him were staring at. “calming, isn’t it?” you say and he looks at the photograph as well, taking it in.

“sometimes, the color blue is associated with loneliness and sadness. it usually happens when you combine it with specific elements, like rain.” he spits and you chuckle.

“i know that, genius. the thing is not how it’s supposed to make you feel, it’s how it really makes you feel.” he looks at you as you sip from your cup. “with lila, you might feel good, ‘cause you enjoy her company, with me on the other side, you might not even want to be here, staring at a photograph that you’ve probably seen before. that’s because you focus on everything too much. you need to see what the picture actually tells you, not focus on the person you’re staring at it with.”

spencer’s hazel eyes go back to the picture, trying to focus on it, not on your presence, or the amount of voices that surrounded him.

the exhibited photograph shows an empty gas station, lights of green engulfing it as the nightlight blue sky surrounds it. it takes spencer back to his childhood. to those days in which even if he loved his mother, he couldn’t spend another minute by her side and left his house late in the afternoon for a walk. it helped him get out of his head. he remembers watching the sun go down as the night took over the sky, studying and calling out the constellations above his head, trying to find a solution to his mother’s illness. the stars never worked, and he was always left…

“it makes me feel alone.”

-

“you know, we really can get ourselves to the airport.” gideon said, reid and you trailing behind him as the police officer guided you to his car.

“i didn’t invite the fbi here to let them make their own way around town.” he says, never minding gideon.

“we really appreciate it.” reid says and you whistle.

“so you have manners, huh?” to what he groans.

“oh, shut up.”

“hey, i can’t thank you guys enough for conducting the seminar.” kim smiles.

“well, don’t hesitate to call if there’s anything we can help with.” gideon offered, putting his bags on the trunk of the car.

you stretched your arms after having pushed in your own. “can’t wait for that free weekend.” you muster happily, to what spencer frowns.

“free weekend? what are you talking about?”

“a special thanks from hotch for coming all the way here and putting up with you.” his mouth falls open at your words.

“i didn’t get any free time and i had to put up with you!”

“that let’s you know who’s the problem in this equation.” you falsely smiled at him, patting her shoulder, and you relished on the way his jaw tightened.

your conversation ends as the three of you watch officer kim end a phone call with a not very enthusiastic ‘great’.

“everything alright?” jason asks.

“double murder at hollywood bungalow.” he informs. “a celebrity. a young movie star, natalie ryan, and her fiancé shot to death.”

“very romantic.” you mutter.

“it’s gonna be a major pain in the ass. hey, you guys care to take a quick look before i drive you to the airport? it’s on the way.” he asks, and gideon accepts the offer.

“absolutely.”

you sigh as you get on the back of the car along with spencer.

“seems like that weekend is gonna have to wait.” he happily and teasingly smiles and you send daggers in his direction.

“i’ll choke you with my bare hands.”

“did you get that kink by exposure or trauma?” your mouth falls and your eyes widen.

“what?” you almost yell, watching him ponder.

“maybe it’s because you like to have power and control. have you talked about this with a therapist?”

“you’re gonna have to see a therapist after the torture i’m gonna put you through if you don’t stop that fucking nonsense.” you warn him, and he raises his hands.

“i’m just saying, there’s nothing bad about seeking mental help-”

“spencer!”

-

“no sign of forced entry.” reid points out as the four of you enter the murder scene.

“same weapon.” gideon informs watching at the two bodies.

you stare at the female, getting closer. “the girl was shot execution style, once in the head. the male three times in the torso.”

“so you have two different MOs.” jason wonders before going back to officer kim, talking about the case. you crouch down to take a better look at the man’s corpse.

“what? you found anything?” spencer inquired from behind you, to what you shook your head.

“nah. just fantasizing.” he frowns.

“fantasizing. what the- what would you possibly be fantasizing about in a murder scene?”

“oh you know… you… in that position… you know? it’s really sexy, you should try it. here don’t move let me get my gun.” you offer while getting up, and he just rolls his eyes, leaving you behind.

“what do you think?” gideon asks the officer about the case, wanting his insight.

“i’ve had a couple other cases recently, past few months. same type of weapon, 22 caliber handgun, both shot in the head.” you look at the bodies. “the first was an established film producer, wally melman, and the second was chloe harris, another young actress. though not as well-known as natalie here.”

“any forensic evidence?” reid asks as you step away from them, taking in your surroundings.

“no, and the guys have been going through this place all morning and haven’t come up with anything.”

“so he clearly knows how to cover his tracks.”

“or hers.” you mutter to yourself.

“twenty-two’s are small but efficient. they bounce around inside a person like a pinball.” jason said.

“preferred weapon of the mafia.” spencer added. “you know, there’s no obvious sexual component to these crimes, which is usually the case with serial murders.”

“so you’re thinking this is a serial killer?” kim asks.

“well, it’s certainly a series of murders. we don’t know enough yet to call them serial.” you step into the conversation.

“would you consider hanging out in LA a little while? let me lean on your expertise until we do figure out what we’ve got?” the officer inquires and gideon nods.

“yeah, just cancel the flights. we’ll have the rest of pit team out here ASAP.”

-

the unsub seemed to follow his victims, since he knew their schedules. there was not a single witness, he knows how to blend in and hide in plain sight. he’s meticulous.

and everybody is watching.

just like everybody was watching spencer and lila.

after finding out that the unsub was actually stalking the blonde, and killing people to help her with her career, she had somehow scurried her way under spencer’s protection. it actually bothered you. ‘cause spencer seemed so distracted. and it was totally unprofessional to get involved with a target being their agent.

you were on her studio, studying everyone surrounding her. but it was one person that caught your attention.

“who’s that?” you question prentiss.

“that’s maggie, maggie lowe. for what i know she just works here.” she answers you. “why?”

“they seem pretty close, don’t you think?” you ponder, watching her physical language. “she also seems nervous, she avoids lila’s eyes.”

“maybe she’s just shy.” she shrugs, but knows what you’re pointing out.

“maybe…” then, jj appears.

“what are you guys talking about?”

“lila and possible unsubs.” emily fills her in, accepting the coffee she offers her, you take the one she handles you too with a thanks.

“talking about lila… look who’s approaching her.” she devilishly smiles. you almost groan at the sight of spencer talking to the blonde. “they seem to have hit it off.”

“ugh don’t start. he’s so focused on her when in reality he should be focused on his job…” you sip at your coffee, not realizing the shared look the other two girls send each other. “so unprofessional.” you shake your head.

“are you really mad because he’s distracted from his job or by the fact that a pretty girl is distracting him?” jj asked you, taking in your frown and confused expression.

“what?”

“oh come on, really? do you really not feel it?” emily pushes in too, and you look at them.

“feel what? i-i don’t understand.”

“there’s this weird tension in between the two of you.” the brunette explains, being backed up by the blonde.

“it’s like when two little kids like each other and they don’t know how to show it so they just mess with each other.” you scoff.

“you’re saying that spencer and i are attracted to each other?” you inquired them both and they looked at the other. “come on guys, have you seen him? have you actually worked with him? he’s a fucking narcissist, he makes my life impossible just because i’m as smart as him. i don’t like him. at all. i can’t even stand him!” you rant. “he does this thing when he’s focused, playing with his hands and pencils, it’s so distracting. and when i state a fact, he just has to find something to actually make it wrong. every single time. and let’s not talk about how fucking childish he is, if you guys had been here for the training program, i swear to god he said this stupid things about kinks and me having trauma, oh my god i wanted to fucking kill him. he diminishes me, and thinks he’s better than me. and it just makes me sick…” you take a deep breath when you notice how much you had actually talked and your friends’ looks. “what i mean to say is, no. i don’t like spencer reid. and if he wants to fuck his job up, i’d be more than happy.”

morgan suddenly appeared, hotch right behind him.

“guys. there’s something you have to know…” the first talked.

“michael ryer’s dead.” the second finished.

“oh shit.” emily cursed.

“does lila know?” jj asked.

they shook their head.

“she’s gonna be devastated.” jj said to what you sipped at your coffee.

“well at least she has spencer, right?”

“oh, yeah. can we talk about that real quick?!” morgan inquired, astonished.

“no, morgan!” the girls stop him and he raised his hands.

“okay… but the kid has game.”

-

“woah. i like your house.” spencer said as you two entered lila’s house.

how had you managed to end up with the two of them alone, you didn’t know, and you didn’t like.

“i rent it.” the girl smiled.

“nice.” he nodded.

“lila, you should probably change all your phone numbers.” you said, messaging your team, they’d found something concerning nude photos of the young artist.

“i’m unlisted.”

“anytime you call an 800 or an 888 number your phone number’s put into a data bank that’s then sold to telemarketers. if someone gets your phone number they can go online and research all your records.” you actually responded.

“woah, are you a genius like spencer too?” spencer.

“no. i’m actually smarter.” you gave her a small smile, making her chuckle.

“uh… you should probably carry a piece of paper and pen with you wherever you go in case you see any suspicious license plates that often reappear.” spencer tries to change the conversation as you two followed the blonde towards her kitchen. “and a security dog too.”

“allergic.” she simply answered. “do you guys want some tea?”

you shrugged. “yeah, sure. thanks.” spencer nodded as well. it was already getting late, the sun leaving the city’s sky.

“i’m gonna go change while the water boils, make yourselves comfortable.” she said while making her way upstairs.

you went back towards the salon, your eyes wandering towards a collage on lila’s wall. spencer got your left side, his white stripped button up shirt’s sleeves rolled up to his elbows.

“feel anything yet?” you asked him.

“there is something definitely appealing about this one.” he said and you nodded.

“like lila?”

he looked at you, his mouth falling open to say something, but just as the words were to fall from his lips, the blonde returned in a a more comfortable outfit, making her way towards the patio of her house, beside the pool.

“what are you doing?” spencer inquired her.

“i just need some air. the tea is on the kitchen.” she responded.

“what? no, lila…” your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you watched him go after her.

you could hear them talk and spencer beg her to come inside since there was a psychotic killer aiming at her. you made your way back to the kitchen just as fast as you saw the blonde lean into him, one of her hands tugging at his tie to pull him down. great.

your hands took the cup of steaming tea that lila had prepared you, your eyes on spencer’s as you took a sip. but the warm liquid was poured all over the floor of the kitchen, your head spinning at the blunt trauma that stroke you. your hands went to the side of your forehead as you fell, taking in the sight of your blood. you groaned as someone took you from your hair, pulling you and dragging you across the floor, your hands getting cuts from the smashed cup of tea.

“come here.” the unsub said, taking away your gun, and… you knew that voice. your eyes met the blonde’s.

“maggie lowe?” you muttered to yourself. so you were right. she was the killer and stalker.

you got dragged all the way to the salon, where you could see lila and spencer kissing from the distance. but the kiss quickly broke when maggie fired a shot up into the ceiling, capturing their attentions. spencer quickly pulled out his weapon, pointing at maggie, whose gun’s barbell was right against your head.

“maggie?” lila inquired as they slowly made their way towards you two.

“why’d you have to bring these people here?” she asked lila. “put down the gun.” she ordered spencer, clocking the weapon that kissed your skin. he quickly lowered it, calling out for the killer. “don’t call me maggie! you don’t know me!” “come on lila, let’s go. we gotta go baby, let’s go.” she ordered the actress in a soft yet hurt voice.

“maggie don’t hurt her, you don’t need to hurt her.” you didn’t know if he was talking about lila or you. or maybe both.

“you don’t know anything. i would never do anything to hurt lila. i created her.”

“no, you didn’t.” lila said.

“yes, i did!” you closed your eyes when the barbell dug harsher against your temple. “i did everything for you! and you betray me by bringing these people here… to our house!!!”

“so ungrateful…” you say, loud enough for maggie to hear you. “look at you… you gave her everything and you saw what she did to you… she kissed him. she told him she loved him.” you lied, looking at spencer. he caught on.

“what?” maggie incredulously said.

“i heard them. i saw them kissing each other like animals!” you yelled. “he abandoned me… and now i’m here. about to be killed because of him!” you spat, meeting maggie’s eyes. “you don’t have to hurt me. they don’t deserve us. i’m on your side maggie… i know how you feel. i know how it feels to be betrayed like this…” you nodded, seeing her eyes change. “give me my gun… i’ll kill him for you. and then you can have lila back. i’ll let the two of you go.” you promised, slowly rising up to your feet, extending your hand.

and just as she pointed her gun down, you tackled her, taking the weapons from her and throwing them aside as she fought against your hold.

“reid!” you called out for your work mate, who quickly came to you and handcuffed maggie, who just started crying and begging for you to kill her.

“i gave her everything…”

you looked at spencer, wiping off the blood from your eyes.

“and that’s why we need to stay professional.”

-

“are you okay, pretty girl?” morgan came to you as the paramedics wiped clean your wound.

“yeah, they say i have a light concussion. a couple of stitches and i’ll be alright.” you gave him a small smile.

“what happened in there, huh? we only got what the paparazzi had on camera, which is…” you nodded.

“yeah. well, maggie got into the house with lila’s spare keys, and basically almost killed me. it was good luck that spencer kissed lila, or else i don’t know what i would’ve done.” the rest of the team had gathered around you.

“you did good. spencer told me how you got into her head.” gideon said.

“thanks.” you responded.

“make sure you’re on the clear before getting up. we’ll be right back, gotta fill in the other officers.” hotch informed you, to what you nodded.

they all left except spencer, who silently looked at you.

“i’m sorry.” spencer said, looking at his feet. “this shouldn’t have happened, if i hadn’t…”

“… played barbie?” you finished off for him, catching his attention. “look spencer. i don’t really care about it. it’s your life and you make your own decisions, just… make sure to not put any of us in danger while doing it. even lila. one of us three could have died tonight.” he nodded. you reached on your back pockets, pulling out the films of the paparazzi’s camera. “i guess this is yours.” he called out for you once again, probably to apologize one more time, but you were still pretty shaken up and you were still pretty mad at him. “would you mind? my head is killing me.” you asked of him and he nodded, silently turning around and walking its way towards morgan and emily. your mind went back to her words the moment the needle punctured your skin. oh ‘come on, really? do you really not feel it?’ ‘there’s this weird tension in between the two of you.’. and then back to jj’s. ‘it’s like when two little kids like each other and they don’t know how to show it so they just mess with each other’. you couldn’t help but chuckle.

you liking spencer? no way.

if there was anything you felt for spencer reid that was hate.

-

a/n; im so excited for this series!!!! so much angst and fluff and smut yet to come!🤭

[bonus-links]

Director’s commentary please? Also Wake and Tetra holding hands and Slate finding the castle familiar ghfggf…

HELLO sorry I'm late! update here

I think in hindsight I needed to fix the levels on this update bc it's a little dark lol. I always try to check on multiple screens and multiple different lighting conditions before I post, but sometimes my eyes get too adjusted lol. anyway if it's hard to see details this update my apologies

holding hands for moral support <3 i imagine it's not easy for either of them to be back here

Linebeck staying on the ship lol. I'm going to be so real, he was supposed to go into the castle with them, but he didn't have much dialogue and I just really didn't want to draw a 6th person 😭 There was also a scene that was meant to go before this where Wake and Linebeck have a conversation, which was literally the whole reason he was in this chapter and greatly pained me to cut. I think I might still make it a bonus comic if I have time for it. anyway I rlly planned for Linebeck to actually have a point in this chapter and it ended up just not materializing HAHA rip linebeck im sorry

Slate can't help but remember that the last time he stepped up to decrepit haunted castle he rlly thought he was gonna die. This is a shot of Slate hesitating in front of Hyrule Castle just before the final confrontation with Ganon. it's one of the only times he wears the champion's tunic, as a specific tribute to The Other Guy. Anyway Slate has to laugh be what are the odds of being in this situation twice across millenia. he has 2 nickels

also the repeated Big Scary Dark Doorway.

On that note, this is the same BG as the conversation with Ganondorf, just scaled back and recolored.

my biggest goal with this update in was to emphasize the Wrongness of the castle being on the surface. It's also kind of, like, anticlimactic. What would usually be a puzzle dungeon or a big action set piece is just kind of. hollow and empty and damaged.

a lot of people have pointed out this panel break as clever, but it's actually not the first time I've pulled this trick lol! I didn't add the little strings this time tho bc well. mostly be the portal technically was not supposed go through the floor, so I felt it'd look weird if I added them. the example from the prologue has the advantage of being a midshot lol so the effect works slightly better imo

what's with me and statues huh

speaking of which i have a confession. recently I was replaying WW with my baby cousins and I got to the part in Hyrule Castle at the very very end and realized. the the hero of time statue is like completely knocked down and broken on the ground. which uh. is clearly not the case here. and has been one of the biggest visual motifs of this entire chapter. whoops lol

and finally, some close-ups of all the little guys

that's all I got for now! There's one more double update left and ch2 is done!!

[thebestofoneshots]

Gilded Constellations | (wolfstar x reader)

Series Masterlist | Previous episode

Pairing: Wolfstar x Reader Word Count: 6.7 K Warnings: none Prompt: It's time for a sweet –and maybe a little spicy– picnic. Proofread by sweet @girlwihkaleidoscopeeyes

Chapter 72: Relentless 

“What…” Remus said as he blinked a couple of times, trying to get his mind around what he was looking at: he’d just left you in your room and now you were in his! Right next to Sirius – well, technically, right on Sirius. Both of you looking as appealing as the food surrounding you. 

He turned to you, pointing his index finger your way. “You were distracting me!”

“Well…” 

“Surprise date!” Sirius said as he gently lifted you, placing you on the side to walk towards Remus. He leaned in and pressed a kiss to the boy’s cheek, in the exact way he’d done with you so many times in the past. You smiled at the sweet scene. “We planned this together, we wanted to do something special for you.” 

Remus smiled. By now you were also standing up and you leaned your head on his shoulder as you admired the wonderful picnic Sirius had prepared. Everything was strategically placed over the blanket (which would have been perfectly straight if it weren't for you and Sirius crumpling it earlier with your playful wrestling). You extended your hand, using some wandless magic to softly straighten up the sheet before leaning your head on Remus’ shoulder again. “Sirius did most of it,” you added. “I was tasked with the distraction this time around.” 

“Did Nieve even need the extract?” He asked, and then you heard him suck in some air and turn to you, a little more alarmed. “You extinguished the firestone, right?” 

“Yes and yes,” you retorted with a confident nod. “It might not be as urgent as I made it seem but she does need the extra meds. And I extinguished the firestone right before leaving the room.” He was about to say something but you interrupted. “Yes, I placed it on the tin, and  made sure the warning colours appeared on the side before placing it on the desk.” Remus smiled and shook his head;, it was somewhat entertaining that you knew exactly what he would ask before he did. 

There was a rather hollow noise coming from the window, and Sirius quickly disengaged himself from the tangle you’d been on before walking over to it. “What’s that?” you asked as you noticed the brown paper bag that Tom’s owl delivered. Remus, who was kind of familiar with those brown paper bags, just smiled, already imagining which type of alcohol Sirius must have gotten his hands on this time. 

“Our celebration drink,” he said as he walked to the picnic blanket and sat with the bag ibn his hands. He then pulled the bottles of wine from it, three too many for the ones that would actually fit. 

Tom must have charmed it, you thought as both you and Remus sat on the floor. 

“Wine?” Remus asked as he raised one of his eyebrows. 

“Sparkling wine,” you corrected as you picked one of the bottles from the floor and stared at the label. “And from Tarascon – the famous dragon breeding town.” 

“Shit, that’s fancy,” Remus said as he looked at the label., Sirius seemed pretty proud of himself, even if the choice had probably been Tom’s. 

“Only the best for my lovers,” Sirius said with a jokingly condescending tone, emphasising the last words and getting an eye roll from Remus, who still wasn’t too keen on the term. 

You laughed, and plopped down on the blanket again, “May I have a grape now, please?” 

“Yes, you may, Étoile.” 

“Merci,” you smiled, taking a grape and popping it in your mouth, biting and spilling its juice all over your tongue with a happy sigh. “He wouldn’t let me have any of them until you arrived.” 

“You were about to mess up my perfectly balanced picnic,” Sirius retorted.

“One grape wouldn’t have made a difference!” 

“Would too!” 

“Do you two get more childish when I’m around or is it always like this?” Remus teased, having the both of you turn his way with a shocked expression that was, at least for him, amusing. 

“Oh, take that back!” You said. 

“We’re not childish!”

“You are a little,” Remus shrugged, with that same teasing smile. 

“Someone childish, wouldn’t have gotten you nice sparkling wine,” Sirius said as he pulled the wine and started twisting the wire of the muselet covering the cork. 

“They wouldn’t?” Remus smiled, a playful lick of his lips accompanied by a slight tilt of the head. He wasn’t just amused, he was having the time of his life. 

“And they wouldn’t have been so effective distracting you, either,” you mused. 

Once the muselet was out of the way, Sirius shook the bottle, then he looked at Remus, winked, and proceeded to press the cork upwards at an angle to release it. 

“I know a spell for–” you started and  were not-so-gently interrupted by  the cork flying out of the bottle and hitting you right in the brow. 

“Shit, you okay?” Sirius asked as he placed the bottle on the ground, his hands wet with the bubbles that had flown from it. 

“Yeah,” you said as you picked the cork from your skirt and examined it. It was iridescent, shifting between navy and forest green, a nod to the scales from the Tarascan Dragons. 

“You sure?” Remus asked as he leaned a little closer, sliding his hand to the back of your neck and gently pulling your head towards him;, you could have turned into a puddle right there and then. “It’s kind of red.” 

“Yeah, it was nothing,” you said honestly. You were more startled than anything, it had been way too close to your eye. 

“Could have gotten in your eye.”

“They’re charmed against that,” Sirius said, smiling at the doting way in which Remus had veered closer to you and pulling the mugs they normally used for tea. He tried to convince the elves to give him wine glasses, but he hadn’t been successful and he didn’t want to take them behind their backs either, especially because of how willing they had been to help with this picnic. “Tough luck, Starshine. Out of all the places it could have fallen, it chose your face.” 

You shrugged, “I guess the universe has to set the balance somehow; after all, I got the hottest boys in the entire school all to myself.” 

Remus’eyes widened slightly, there was a hint of a smug smile on his lips as he finally pulled his hand from your neck. You responded with a wink before leaning in to grab one of the mugs Sirius had already filled. It belonged to James and had “#1 Captain ” written on it, next to the image of a golden snitch that always flew to a different side of the mug when you spotted it. You suspected Peter had gotten it custom-made for him, but he claimed he’d found it at a second-hand shop somewhere in Diagon Alley.

“Well, it’s the truth, we are the hottest,” Sirius said rather smugly and took his mug, a gift from his cousin Andromeda. It had Freddie Mercury singing in bright yellow overalls, but the picture did not move since it was muggle-made. Moony grabbed his mug as well, a Gryffindor mug he’d gotten when he was made into a prefect. “Let’s toast to that,” Sirius said with a smile. 

“To me having bad luck in retaliation for dating the two of you?” you teased. 

“Not that,” he said as he shook his head. “To us!” 

“To us?” Remus raised an eyebrow. 

“To us,” you confirmed as you extended your mug. “And to more picnics together.” 

“And more kisses,” Sirius said with a cheeky smile.

 Remus smiled – he was definitely on board with the last one. “To endless moments like this.” 

You exchanged a fond look with Sirius, “To endless moments like this!” both of you said as you clinked your mugs, some of the wine spilling down your hands from how overfilled they were. You smiled and brought yours to your lips, taking a short sip and enjoying the feeling of the sparkling bubbles in your mouth. Magical wine was always more fun than muggle; the bubbles were better somehow. 

“Here, try these,” Sirius said, mug still close to his lips, as he waved his wand and a plate with sweets floated towards the centre. 

Both you and Remus reached towards it. “Sorry,” he said as your hands bumped into each other, you had both tried to grab the same mince pie. “You take it.” 

“No, don’t worry,” you said, also pulling your hand from it. 

“Just share it,” Sirius said with a laugh, finding the interaction both endearing and slightly ridiculous. You had shared food many times before dating. Why were you acting so shy now?

You looked at him and smiled, taking the pie in your hands, giving it a bite, and then extending it towards Remus. He exchanged a short look with Sirius, almost like a question, and Sirius’ confident smile was more than an answer. It pretty much said, “Go ahead.” 

And he did, leaning in and taking a bite himself. “It’s good,” he nodded, picking a small piece of the crust from the corner of his mouth. 

“Really good,” you agreed as you moved your weight to your knees and leaned a little closer to Sirius, offering him some as well. He smiled and leaned in to take a bite as well, pressing a short kiss to your finger right after. He nodded and hummed in approval. 

You went back into a sitting position, completely missing the wandering look from Remus as your skirt rode up a little. But Sirius, ever so attentive, did not. His lips tightened into a small smirk, wondering just how much of that Remus would be able to stand before caving in. How much of it could he stand before caving in? He already found you delightful in the uniform skirt; this one, a little shorter, a little more flowy… what an absolute treat. 

“Eyes on her face, Moons,” he said with a teasing smirk. 

“Huh?” You asked as you turned to him, missing the stern look Remus gave him in return. 

“Remus here was just–” Sirius’ mouth was shut by a cupcake flying into his face. As much as you cared for whatever he had to say, Remus casually unwrapping a sandwich from the side was too funny not to laugh at, especially since you knew it had been him. “Oi!” 

“What?” Moony asked nonchalantly.

“Arse,” Sirius said as he pulled the cupcake off his face and started wiping the icing with his bare hands. You picked a cloth napkin from the table and handed it over to him. But as you leaned closer he smiled. “Mind giving me a hand, Starshine?” He asked as he tilted his head towards you and closed his eyes. 

You knew Sirius didn’t need help whatsoever, but he looked way too adorable to be denied, so you took the napkin and started cleaning off the leftover icing from his face. “You’re still kind of sticky.” 

“Why don't you lick it off then?” he smirked. 

“Gross!” you responded with a grimace, turning to grab a glass and using Aguamenti to fill it up with some water to dip the clean part of the napkin inside of it. While you were distracted, Sirius turned to look at Moony with a self-satisfied smile and teasing eyebrows. 

“Should I tell her?” he mouthed. 

Remus glared at him and pointed at the cupcakes. “Go ahead and try,” he mouthed back. 

Sirius smiled again and closed his eyes as you came back with the napkin, cleaning off the sticky residue of cupcakes from his face with gentle hands. Sirius was sure those same hands would drive Remus insane, and felt a need to see it happen. 

But he also wanted the picnic to be enjoyed first, so he resorted to continuing teasing Remus without you finding out about it, at least for a bit longer. Still, he couldn’t help but wonder what sounds would leave his boyfriend's mouth as you touched him, or as he touched him. 

“Done,” you said as you pulled back, your skirt yet again flowing teasingly around your thighs, this time around perhaps with slight help from Sirius, who did some wandless magic to bring a slight breeze in. “Getting kind of chilly, isn’t it?” 

Remus threw a look at Sirius. “Yeah, definitely,” he agreed with a smile. Now you weren’t oblivious enough not to realise the two of them had something going on, but you hadn’t quite cracked what it was, especially since you would never have expected your skirt to rouse such a response with the boys. 

“What are these?” you asked as you picked up a tea sandwich with greenish insides. 

“Veggies and cream cheese,” he responded. “I think there are some with cucumber, some with ham and brie, and some with cranberries and chicken.” 

“No egg sandwiches?” Remus asked. 

“Maybe three or four, but I left them in the basket,” Sirius said as he pointed at it. “I know they’re not your favourite.” You smiled, Sirius, who was either always talking to somebody at meal times or joking around with the boys – especially James – had always been good at paying attention, and not only did he know Remus didn’t love egg sandwiches, but he had specifically asked for more of the others instead. 

“Right,” Remus said, the corner of his lip tilting upwards ever so slightly. 

“There’s also some peanut butter, jam, chocolate spread, and scones.” 

“Scones?” you asked, leaning a little closer to examine the spread. 

“Over there,” he pointed at a plate covered by a white napkin. “Blueberry.” 

You smiled, leaving the sandwich on your plate and getting on your knees again to get the plate. You could have probably floated the plate towards you, but the jams and fruits were also on that side of the blanket and you decided to just reach for it. After all, it wasn’t nearly that far. 

You found an empty spot in the middle of the blanket and placed one of your hands to hold yourself in place while the other one reached for the plate. Sirius couldn’t help but smirk at the nervous look Remus threw your way, averting his gaze from you and your compromising – not really – position, and turning towards his sandwich as if it were the most interesting thing in the room. 

Sirius leaned his head to the side as he shamelessly stared, “Nice skirt, Starshine.” 

“Thanks,” you said innocently, as you placed some of the fruits and jams onto the plate with the scones. “Got it in muggle London, Tom and Beth said I had to get it.” 

Sirius let out an amused scoff. Aapparently, Tom had been acting as cupid for way longer than he even knew. “As they should have, it looks absolutely ravishing on you,” he smirked, “Doesn’t it, Moony?” 

Remus pulled his gaze from the plate to look at Sirius warningly, but of course, you were right in between the two of them, there was no way he would have avoided looking at your bare thighs or his jumper riding up on your torso just enough to show a bit of skin. His gaze lingered for a second before throwing a heated look at Sirius, whose eyes seemed to be sparkling as he smirked. 

“You look lovely, Little Witch,” he finally agreed, turning back to look at his sandwich. 

You turned to him with a smile, just now noticing how focused he seemed on his sandwich. You frowned and turned to Sirius, questioningly. 

“It’s, uh… short,” he mouthed, nodding at the skirt. You tilted your head to the side just slightly, as if you didn’t quite get it. “I think Moony likes it a little too much.” You hid the gasp you made by moving back into your spot with the plate in your hands. “I do as well.” 

You tried not to blush at the fact that the two of them had been checking you out without you noticing. Was that what Beth and Tom had been going on about when you tried it on? 

“You do what?” Remus asked as he turned to Sirius. 

“I like blueberry scones.” He smiled innocently towards Moony. “You want one too?” he asked as he pulled one from the plate you still had in your hands. “I could prepare it for you.” 

“No, thank you.” 

“You sure, Rem?” you asked as you turned to him, pulling down on the jumper. “I could make them the way you like. I think Sirius said there's cream cheese.” 

“I did,” he confirmed, pulling out a small crystal container from the basket and handing it over to you. 

Remus looked in between the two of you, narrowing his eyes. Did Sirius tell her? he wondered. “Okay,” he responded while looking at you. You smiled; the same smile that drove him insane for months, making his craving for you grow and grow. It was nice to see it adorning your lips again, it was nice to be one of the reasons it was there in the first place. 

You took one of the scones and started to prepare it: cream cheese, clotted cream and then some of the chocolate spread Sirius had brought over – a secret recipe from the kitchen elves, almost as delicious as Hope’s. 

Once you were done, you handed it over to him. Sirius was already eating his – cream and strawberry jam, with fresh berries sprinkled in between – a classic, but his favourite nonetheless. You took yours and filled it with your favourite fillings before taking your first bite. Somehow you couldn’t stop thinking about the skirt thing. Was it really that big of a deal for the two of them? Could you tease them about it? Did you want to tease them about it? 

You thought it over for one or two bites, attentively looking at the two of them, Sirius with his long dark lashes falling over his cheeks as he focused on preparing himself another scone and Remus still enjoying the first one, with his broad shoulders and impossibly gentle hands. You wondered how it was possible for someone so big to be that tender. For a wolf to also be a lamb – it was fascinating. The duality of Remus Lupin was something that had always caught your attention. The secrets hiding behind his skin had been one of the biggest mysteries since you arrived at Hogwarts. You wondered what other secrets it hid. 

How soft or tough it was… how warm… how would it feel under your fingertips… how would it feel on your lips… what sounds would you hear as you kissed it… would it be sensitive enough to get hickeys with ease, or was it thick and resilient like him... Would said bruises last, or would they heal overnight due to his overly fast metabolism... would he enjoy getting them, be it by your lips or Sirius’... You knew for a fact Sirius enjoyed leaving marks all over you, would Remus like that as well? Did he want to kiss you as much as you wanted to kiss him? Was the need as constant for him as it was for you? 

You took another bite of your scone. Yes, you thought, I definitely want to tease them about it. 

“I’m glad we stayed here, by the way,” you said. “Not that Hogsmeade wouldn’t be fun, we haven’t gone together since we started dating but, I guess the fact that this is a little more intimate is better for our first date.” 

“Mhm?” Sirius asked as he looked at you. It seemed like you might have been up to something. 

“I mean, we don’t have to be careful about anything here, I can shamelessly stare at Remus’ beautiful face without worrying that someone might notice how bad I’ve got it for him.” 

“Right,” Sirius said with a smile. “And Remus can stare at your short little skirt all he wants without making people think he wants to fuck his best friend’s girlfriend.” 

Remus almost spat his drink after Sirius spoke, coughing as he reached for a napkin and throwing a murderous look at Sirius, who was still smiling, delighted at his reaction. 

“You okay, Rem?” you asked as you leaned a little closer to him. 

“Yeah,” he said with a short nod and then turned to look at the other boy – ridiculously handsome even when being a prat – “And Pads can ogle either of us all he wants without seeming like a pervert.”

“I'm too handsome to be seen as a pervert,” Sirius said with a wave of his hair, which got the two of you to laugh. 

“There is no such a thing as too handsome to be seen as a pervert!” Remus retorted.

“There is too!” Sirius insisted. “Think of one of those romance novels Vixen reads in her book club. Wasn’t there one where the pirates kidnapped the reader who was a cartographer and then started teaching her how to be a pirate?” 

“Point of Know Return?” you asked. 

“Mhm, that one!” Sirius said with a nod. “Didn’t you say that in one scene she accidentally got all wet because of the waves, and that she had been wearing a white pirate shirt, and that the male lead just stared at her for a hot minute before helping? AND THEN he helped her change because the ties were tangled?” 

“Uhh…” you said as you tried to think of that scene, you had almost forgotten about it entirely, and you wondered how on earth he remembered it. “Wait, hold up. Did you read it?” you asked as you turned to him with a frown. 

“Not the point,” Sirius said dismissively. “Anyway, I swear it was the single most pervy thing ever! But Mr. Pirate got a pass because he was handsome.” 

“You definitely read it!” you said with a gasp. “Why?” 

“Well, you seemed pretty into it,” he shrugged. “And also you mentioned it was kind of spicy, I was curious as to what spicy is for you.” 

You shook your head in disbelief. “I can’t believe it.” 

“You never said who picked that one,” Sirius teased. 

“And I will never say it either. What happens in the book club stays in the book club.” 

Sirius laughed, “I mean it wasn’t a bad scene. We could probably reenact some of the things that– HEY!” Another cupcake flew to his face, this time you were to blame for it. 

“Godric, please, never let him read any spicy books ever again!” you said dramatically. “He’ll get ideas.” 

“But they’ll be fun ideas,” Sirius teased as he took the cupcake in his hands and licked some of the icing from the side of his lip. “Either way, my point was made. I’m too handsome for being a perv.” 

“Sirius do you think–” 

“Tell me I don’t have a ‘romance novel leading man’s face, go on,” he challenged both you and Remus. 

You just rolled your eyes. Both of the boys were leading man material in your opinion, but you weren’t sure either needed the ego bust. Well, perhaps Remus could do with some. “I mean, I have imagined Remus on a spicy book cover… you know, with his Halloween costume and all? But I never did picture you in one.” 

“I'll have you know my Halloween costume was well worth its own romance novel cover, Sweets. Just think about it: My Handsome Devil…” 

“More like: My cupcake-faced devil,” you said as you took some of the icing he’d missed from his cheek with your finger and plopped it into your mouth.

“See?” Sirius said as he smiled at you. “Now you’re even naming the novel I’d be in. Point made.” 

“Whatever you say, Puppy,” you said with an amused shake of your head. It seemed everyone was more at ease now, even if the earlier implications had almost taken the conversation in a different direction, a direction that perhaps you wouldn’t put past exploring, just not yet. “We should listen to some music,” you said as you stood up, walking towards the chest drawer with their stash – and the record player. 

“Need any help?” Sirius asked, leaning his head back for a second to watch you.

“Nah, I’ve got it,” you said as you used your wand to move the heavy piece of furniture and look through the hole in the wall. It was exactly as you remembered, filled with a bunch of miscellaneous things. You rummaged through it until you found the cassette player in one of the furthest crannies. 

You were pulling it out when Remus, out of nowhere, appeared behind you. 

“Let me do it for you,” he offered. Now, that could have been a very natural thing for Remus to do, except that there was a hint of nervousness in his voice that made your curiosity peak. 

“It’s fine, I can do it by myself,” you said simply, trying to gauge his next reaction. 

“I know, I’d like to help though,” he countered, rather insistent. You narrowed your eyes at him. By then, you already had your hands on the cassette player, and he was gently pushing you to the side to take it himself. 

“What are you hiding?” you asked as you raised your eyebrows.

“Nothing,” he said, a little too fast, which got you to hum and smile. 

“Okay,” you said as you removed your hands from the cassette player and looked at him attentively, he cleared his throat, took it in his hands, and stood, motioning for you to come along, but you knew there was something he was hiding. You looked back at the stash and cast a silent Revelio with your wand. A strip of rubbers dropped from the side. Remus looked mortified as you took them in your hands. “So this is what you meant with Away from prying hands?” you asked teasingly. 

“What’s away from prying hands?” Sirius asked, curious as to why you were taking so long. 

Remus looked even more mortified now that Sirius joined in, you tried to place them back in their place but Sirius was faster, “What are these?” he asked as he read the logos on the packaging. Something along the lines of: “Savage Night”

You exchanged a look with Remus, Sirius hadn’t had as much contact with the muggle world as the both of you, and the wizarding world used potions as prevention most of the time, could he possibly not know what they were?

“Erm… Special balloons,” you said with a shrug. 

“How are they special?” Sirius asked as he turned the strip around and started reading some of the text in the back. 

“Well, if we told you, we’d have to kill you,” you retorted, trying to sound as lackadaisical as possible. He looked up from reading with a frown.

“It says: best lube included, ensuring your fit since 1953,” he gave the two of you a look, Remus covered his face with both of his hands and you burst out into a laugh. 

“You’re kidding!” you said as you pulled them from his hands and read through the label. “Shit, it really does say that! Remus!” 

“Please stop,” he mumbled as he shook his head, the embarrassment already painting the tip of his ears a deep crimson. 

“But where does anybody have to fit? Are these magical? Can you get inside them?” 

You laughed at his question again. In theory, he could. “Extremely muggle,” you said, handing them over to him. Sirius got slightly impatient since he felt he was being left out of the joke and just stared at you. He had that small wrinkle in the middle of his eyebrows, the sulking line, as James called it, but you still couldn’t stop your laughs.

You took them from his hands, dangling them in the air as you showed them to him as a teacher would. “So, these are like–” you laughed again, trying to gather your wits to explain why the whole thing was so hilarious – “like the potion, but a… muggle version.” 

“Are these… preservatives?” Sirius asked as he looked at them with a confused frown. “But how exactly do these–” 

“You put them on,” you responded almost too fast, and then a slightly impish smile stretched through your lips. “I guess Remus could teach you one day,” you teased, giving a side glance at Remus who still hid his face in between his hands. Upon his lack of reaction, you almost felt bad about the way you had taunted him, so you left the strip to Sirius who seemed curious and slightly confused and walked towards Rem, who stood just a few steps from the two of you.

“Hey,” you said softly, placing a hand on one of his shoulders. “Sorry for teasing, I didn’t mean to–” You were stopped mid-sentence, as he grabbed your waist and pulled you roughly into a hug. Remus and Sirius exchanged a short look, Sirius nodded in response to the other boy’s silent question, and you were pulled from the floor and tackled towards Remus' bed. You yelped in surprise at Remus, who now had a hard time not laughing. Clearly, you had mistaken his intentions. 

“How about I give you a better reason to laugh?” he said with a smile; it took you a second to register what he meant, and by the time you tried to scramble yourself off the bed, he was already tickling you mercilessly. 

“Sides of the ribs,” Sirius said. “That’s her most ticklish spot.” 

“Sirius!” you managed to protest in between laughs. 

“Je suis désolé, Étoile. Can’t help you with this one.” 

You huffed, squirming as you tried to stop Remus from tickling you, and resorting to just tickling him back, but you didn’t know his weak spots yet.  As you laughed, you moved your hands all over the side of his ribs, trying to find a place that made him laugh as hard as you were laughing. 

“I’m just not that ticklish,” Remus said with a teasing smile. You laughed involuntarily as he pressed the pads of his fingers ever so gently on the side of your belly. Your jumper and shirt had ridden up again, only slightly, and he was now touching your skin directly. But, in between the laughs, neither realised the compromising position you had both ended up in at this point. One of his knees right in between your thighs, one hand beside your head holding him up as he continued to tickle you, and your hands running through his chest as you laughed, still trying to find a ticklish spot. 

Perhaps his neck? 

Although unnoticed by either of you, it had not slipped by Sirius, who was attentively watching the situation as he sipped on his sparkling wine and bit on a fresh strawberry, the juice spilling from the fruit and wetting his already lascivious lips. He almost felt like the devil, watching Adam and Eve in paradise, innocent, pure, uncorrupted. What he saw wasn’t the same as either of you saw, and as he wiped the juice that had unwittingly slipped toward his chin, his mouth quirked into a smirk. Yes, his Halloween costume couldn’t have been more accurate. 

As Sirius stared at the two of you with a gaze almost too lustful for the coy scene he was watching, you reached up to touch Remus’ neck – which finally seemed to get a reaction from the boy. He shied away from your hand, his head instinctively bending to the side and his shoulder rolling upwards as he tried to inch himself away from it. You smiled, making use of the distraction to place both hands on his shoulders. 

There was no way in hell you could win with your strength alone, but they didn’t call you Vixen just because you could turn into a fox, rather it was because of how resourceful you were. Or perhaps your animagus had turned out a fox because of how resourceful you were, what came first, the phoenix or the flame? Whichever it might have been, it was still one of your best qualities and you’d be damned if you didn’t use any of your quick wits to give yourself an advantage in the situation. 

Using his distraction, you pressed both of your hands on his shoulders, focusing as much as you could to cast a silent Impedimenta. It wasn’t nearly as effective as if you had used a wand, but it was enough to get his legs to go limp You kicked the one in between your legs to the left while you pushed both his shoulders to the right, successfully inverting the position you’d been on. He was so shocked as he landed on the bed that he just gawked at you, giving you just enough time to take his wand from the side and pointed it at his neck. Both of you knew you would never hurt him, but it was one of the ways to mark a duel as finished, leaving your opponent unarmed, and at the end of their own wand as a sign of defeat.

“Do you surrender?” you asked, looking down at him with a smile as you tried to catch your breath, both of your legs rested on either side of his torso as your chest heaved up and down. You had that same triumphant smile you’d sometimes make after stopping a goal on the Quidditch pitch. Or the one you’d had for a split second as you caught the snitch in that one game, at least before you fell on the swampy water. 

Remus was far too stunned to speak, and Sirius was absolutely delighted as he plopped another strawberry in his mouth. He would have already dragged you down for a kiss by then. Perhaps I’m not the only one, he thought after noticing something interesting in Remus’ eyes. 

Remus swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down his throat as he looked at you; he had somehow recovered himself from your Impedimenta, enough to turn things back around if he’d wanted to, but there was something about you looking at him the way you were that he wasn’t sure he was ready to change yet. 

He drank you in for one more moment, eyes flashing gold before he used one of the arms still on the bed to force himself into a sitting position while the other one snatched his wand from your hand in a move so fast you barely saw coming. Once he was halfway up, and you started sliding down his torso, he used his now free hand and placed it behind your back so that you wouldn’t fall to the floor. 

“Do you?” he asked once he was sitting on the bed, you’d landed on his lap facing him, but it didn’t take you as long to recover as it had taken him, you could feel the tip of his wand on the side of your neck now, right under your jaw, barely pressing against you, both of his arms caging you to him. When an attacker's wand came from behind it was much harder to get out of it, but that didn’t mean Nightshade hadn’t taught you how to do it. The catch here was that you didn’t really want to. 

Remus noticed your eyes sparkling as they moved across his face, a gaze so piercing and calculating it almost made him nervous; it had that same confident quality Sirius’ often had, and when your eyes landed on his lips, he realised that perhaps you hadn’t been that wrong with your initial assumption. Sirius looked at the two of you, tilted his head to the side, and locked the door with a silent spell, trying to make the entire thing as quiet as possible. Not that either of you would have noticed, not with how enthralled you were with one another. 

Instead of responding, you leaned forward and pressed your lips to his, his hands instantly pulling you closer to him. It was instinctive the way he held you to him, lips crashing against each other, scrambling together, hungry, mad, loaded with lust and desire, some of the tension from earlier slowly dissolving into into zest, into the intrinsic need for one another, the natural magnetism that already drew the two of you close to one another, comme il faut.

Sirius had to resist the urge to whistle at the sight, he wanted to tease the two of you madly, but you’d probably stop kissing if he did, and the idea of losing the sight of you sitting on Remus’ lap as you pretty much devoured his lips was dreadful. He didn't think he’d mind just sitting there watching while the two of you fucked each other senseless, perhaps he’d even encourage it; after all, Remus hadn't yet gotten to feel you the way he had, so perhaps things should be evened out before the three of you tried something together. Not that either of you had forgotten about Sirius. In fact, knowing that he was watching was perhaps making the entire ordeal even more stimulating. 

But ‘resourceful’ wasn’t the only characteristic that could describe you. You were also incredibly competitive, and the little tickling duel from earlier wasn’t something you wanted to lose either, so while you kissed Remus, and felt the wand in his hand travel from your back to the front, you traced a line brushing your fingers from his forearm to his hand, and then snatched the wand from his hands, as if you were helping him get rid of it. He already had his hand on your cheek when you pointed the wand against his ribs and pulled back from the kiss with a smile. He leaned onto you for a whole second before finally pulling back with a confused realization. 

“What–” he started. 

You tilted your head to the side and lowered your gaze towards the wand against his ribs. “How about you surrender?” you said, soft breath fanning against his face as you recovered from the lack of air and the thumping of your heart against your chest, as calmly as you could. The way you were looking at him, a mix between teasing and kissed-dumb, oozing confidence, was almost too much to bear, absolutely maddeningly attractive. 

Sirius didn’t hold back this time around and wolf-whistled, the sound almost blending with both yours and Remus’ heartbeats. 

“You–” he let out a soft, airy laugh as he looked at your soft hand holding his own wand against him for the second time in the last couple of minutes. “You kissed me as a distraction,” he chuckled. 

“I kissed you because I wanted to.“ you corrected. “It being a perfect distraction was nothing but a happy coincidence.” 

He shook his head in amusement and you pressed the wand to his rib a little harder, as if that could make any difference, “Go on, wave the white flag.” 

Remus gave you a challenging look as if he was thinking of another way to take his wand from you. He could have, if he really wanted to, he’d just have to push you to the side, neither of you was going to actually use magic on each other. But his thoughts were more aligned with yours than it seemed: he didn’t want you off him either.

“Just say you are and go back to snogging,” Sirius whispered to himself as if he were watching a movie or reading an extremely exhilarating book. Of course, Remus heard him, even if you didn’t. Luckily, he wasn’t nearly as competitive as you were. Being around James and Sirius – who were basically brilliant at anything they tried – had taught him that he didn’t need to be the fastest or the best at something to be remarkably good at it. Besides, who gave a damn about winning when losing would bring your lips back to his. 

He turned to the wand again, and when he pulled his gaze from it. Then, he looked straight at you, his eyes flashing golden for a second before he said, “I surrender,” creating an oxymoron with the defying manner in which he spoke. His lips curled just slightly upwards as his gaze focused solely on yours.

“What a little shit,” Sirius whispered, this time aware Remus would hear. 

Series Masterlist | Next Chapter

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A/N: Well, I have not been writing as much as I used to but I'm forcing myself to do it by posting some of my back up chapters (I've written like 9 ahead of posting –I guess it's only 8 now). And you know what would be lovely and uplifting? To see your thoughts and comments! Either way, as always: Love, Lils

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[nerdallwritey]

Three Little Words

Summary: “Well, this has been lovely,” Astarion said, making his way to the door leading back into the inn proper. “Anything else we should know before we head off to save the day?” He was already halfway out the door, not bothering to wait for an answer, clearly trying to make a stealthy exit.  You eyed Halsin, who nodded and retrieved the rogue by his arm before he could leave, closing the door behind both of them for good measure. “Let me go, you humongous imbecile!” Astarion pounded his free arm against Halsin’s chest before Halsin released him and refused to let him move a muscle towards the door. Astarion huffed and crossed his arms, turning his nose up at the rest of you. “Is he okay?” Isobel asked.  “This is relatively normal behavior from him, actually,” Karlach said. OR Astarion accidentally says something nice, then acts like an idiot for the rest of the day.

Pairing: Astarion x f!reader Rating: 18+ (no smut) Word count: 8.3k CW: lots of Act 2 exposition, Rolan is a drunk dick, Astarion's scars, sitcom antics, reader is an idiot (and a bard), so is Astarion (not a bard, just an idiot, and more so than usual), Halsin's tits Spoilers: Spoilers for Act 2 (in-game dialogue, plot points, etc.) Also posted to: AO3 FAIR WARNING: This is PART 7 in my series, "Beauty and the Bard." Find the masterlist here.

a/n: PART 7 IS ALIIIIIIIIIVE!!! Thank you for waiting so patiently for this one, I had more planned for it but decided to cut it in half since I already yap too much as it is. I wanted this chapter to be a fresh enough take on the beginning of Act 2, and I hope you all enjoy! This one gets really sitcom-y at certain points which was a blast to write and I hope you have a blast reading! Part 8 is already in the works and I'm VERY excited to share that one with you all!! There's no smut in this chapter, and for that, I apologize. If all goes according to plan, Part 8 will have you covered! (Thank you to my beta @kermitwazowski, and the wonderful @arzen9 for reading!) As a reminder, last time, you fell asleep in Astarion's arms and he realized he's in love with you...

Taglist: Moved to the comment section, since tumblr hates sharing fun with friends - please let me know if you'd like to be added to the list!

You awoke to an empty bed. 

Drearily and with a tired moan, your arm flung out to search blindly in the dark, trying to make sense of your surroundings. Slowly, it came back to you - you’d made it to an inn in the Shadow Cursed Lands. You’d shared a passionate night with Astarion. Perhaps the vampire whose arms you were sure you’d fallen asleep in had rolled off the bed in the night? You inched your body to the edge of the bed, hanging your head over the side and blinking rapidly to get your eyes to adjust to the darkness. 

Nope. No trancing elf. Just a loose floorboard from the night before. 

You flopped dramatically onto your back, staring up at the ceiling. Couldn’t vampires technically hang from ceilings? Was it possible Astarion had somehow sleep… vampired? And somehow found himself snoozing upside down on the ceiling?

No, that was stupid, of course he wasn’t on the ceiling. Though you did squint and stare above you for longer than you would ever admit to anyone. 

Exhaling quietly, you sat up on your arms to scan the rest of the room before your eyes landed on a silhouette hunched in front of the drawn curtains of the room’s large window. 

Astarion was muttering quietly, his arm bent behind his back. “I… F… or is it an E? Is it even a letter?” You heard him sigh and saw his frame straighten fractionally. “What damn language is this?”

You half smiled affectionately, sitting up fully against the pillows. 

“Need some help writing a sonnet, Volo?” You swung your legs over the side of the bed and turned to face him.

Astarion jumped. “Ah!” You heard a loud crash as you saw his darkened form trip backwards over your discarded backpack.

“Astarion!” you cried, springing up from the bed and joining him on the ground. “Are you alright?” You brushed your knuckles over his cheek as he groaned lowly.

His eyes were shut tight in mild pain, but they opened after a moment to blink up at you. When he saw the concerned look on your face, he sat up quickly and backed away from you until his back made contact with your overturned backpack.

You frowned. “What’s wrong?”

Astarion smiled awkwardly. “Oh nothing, darling.” After a second, he said your name softly. 

You narrowed your eyes and stood up, striking a match and lighting the candle on the table parallel to the bed. “I don’t believe you.”

He was staring at you in a way that gave you the sense he wasn’t listening. 

“Hello?” you asked, snapping your fingers. 

Astarion shook his head, regaining focus. “Apologies, dear, you caught me by surprise, that’s all.”

You crossed your arms and smiled. “That little spill of yours kind of gave that much away.”

Astarion rose to his feet and rubbed his backside. “Yes, well…” He held his upper arm awkwardly and avoided meeting your eye. Your brow furrowed, but he continued talking. “I’ve… been tracing the scars on my back with my fingers, trying to read them by touch, but I can’t. They may as well be written in Rashemi.” 

There was something weird about his body language. Like he was trying to hide something from you, but you decided to focus on what he was telling you. Maybe if he kept talking, you’d figure out what was wrong. 

You stepped closer, pausing when he took another step back. You spoke calmly, “Let me have a look.”

“I-” he sighed. “This isn’t your problem, you know.”

“Like hells, it isn’t,” you scoffed with a smile. “Your problems are my problems now.” You stepped forward again and took his hand. He looked you in the eye before quickly looking away. “I want to help you.” You brushed your nose against his.

A chill ran through his body, and you felt his hand tremble in yours. “Fine.”

Hesitantly, he slowly turned his back towards you. 

It was rare that Astarion would purposely show you his back. You’d run your hands along the ridges of his scars numerous times, but he was reluctant to let you look at the hacked flesh directly. You assumed it was linked to the poorly hidden shame he felt towards his past, but you never looked at the marks with anything but admiration for his bravery and a sign of his survival. 

Now, seeing the scars straight on by the light of the candle, you recognized the runes as a language you’d seen written many times in books and in school growing up; Infernal. The language of the Hells.

From what little you could make out, the language was fragmented and strange. This scar was just a piece of a larger text. 

“And?” Astarion probed, looking over his shoulder at you. “What does it say?” Embarrassment and hopeful curiosity coated his words. 

“Well, it’s certainly not a poem. In fact, from what I can tell, it might be part of a devil’s pact.”

His eyes narrowed. “Infernal pact? But not even the whole text?” He turned back to face you. “What was that bastard up to?” 

“Did you ever see Cazador write in Infernal before?”

Astarion thought for a moment. “No. I could have missed it, of course, but I doubt it. Whatever he’s carved in my flesh, it’s a mystery to me.” When he realized you didn’t have some sort of quip to add, he continued. “Cazador was only figuratively hellish - there were never any devils hanging about the crypt.” 

You snorted. “I wouldn’t think there would be. Though, can you imagine Mizora in a crypt? Or Raphael? He’d probably be repulsed.” 

Astarion stiffened visibly. “Raphael… yes…”

You attempted to get his attention back on you by squeezing his hand. “What about him?”

He looked at you briefly, a slight smirk on his lips. “If anyone’s going to know about infernal contracts, he will.”

“I mean… That makes sense, I guess.”

Astarion pointed towards you excitedly. “I knew you’d see the pragmatic side.”

You tilted your head, thinking. “But Mizora’s kind of all about infernal legalese.”

Astarion rolled his eyes. “Sure, but Raphael has more panache. And I doubt Wyll would appreciate us summoning his devilish pact-maker.”

“Good point.”

“Unfortunately, Raphael comes and goes on his own schedule, so we’ll just have to look out for any sulfurous odors or the sound of questionable poetry.” 

That got you to smile. He smiled back, and reached out to hold your elbows lightly. “You will help me, won’t you, darling?”

“Of course I will,” you said, bending up to kiss his cheek. You felt him flinch beneath your lips. “Are you sure everything is alright? You seem awfully on edge.” 

“Me? On edge? Of course not!” His voice pitched up uncharacteristically and broke at the end. “I don’t know why that came out all squeaky because really,” he cleared his throat and lowered his voice comically, “I’m fine.”

You smiled skeptically. “If you say so.”

“Don’t worry about me, dearest,” he released your arms and knelt to go through his own bag. He pulled out a fresh shirt and slipped it over his head. “I think I’ll spend some time this morning studying the art of infernal negotiations.” He kissed you swiftly before pulling away as if you’d shocked him. “I’ll…” you caught him look down at the ring still gracing your left pinky, “see you later.” 

With that, he quickly left the room, closing the door behind him and leaving you with nothing but the sound of Harpers patrolling outside and patrons sitting by the bar.

You exhaled loudly, staring at the door after him. 

Something was definitely wrong. 

Compared to last night, when he was blissed out on your tongue, and kissing your throat with fervent passion, there was no doubt something was bothering him.

But what?

You sat back on the bed, replaying the previous night over in your head. Had you done something wrong? Had you pushed him too hard to do something he didn’t want to do?

No. No, you were fairly certain he had truly enjoyed himself with you. 

But then again, you were very new to sex. And new to Astarion, for that matter. Was it possible he could still pull one over on you, even though you felt like you could read him pretty well by now?

Regardless of whatever was going on with Astarion, it was clear that it had to do with you, based purely on his hesitancy to get close to you just now. 

Sniffing your sleep shirt and feeling suddenly self conscious, you ran a warm bath and scrubbed yourself clean of whatever grime had clung to your body since entering the Shadow Cursed Lands. 

A short time later, you found yourself exiting the bedroom, your hair damp, and fresh clothes gracing your figure. You paused in the doorway, scanning the large, open room that made up most of the first floor. Immediately, your eyes fell on the gaggle of child criminals behind the bar that you’d sicced on Astarion at the Tiefling party.

Smiling to yourself, you took a step towards the bar, only to freeze when you heard the familiarly cool tone of a tiefling wizard. 

“...There’s another bottle of Arabellan dry back there,” Rolan practically spat. “Put it on the bar, then piss off and leave me alone.”

Zaki and Meli, two of the tiefling kids, exchanged glances before Zaki upturned his nose at Rolan.

“Jaheira said we should serve drinks, but that we shouldn't serve drunks.”

Slurring his words mildly, Rolan pointed an accusatory finger at the children. “Jaheira didn’t save your ragged little tail from the cultists. I did.”

You stepped forward and made eye contact with Zaki and Meli who smirked when they recognized you. You winked at them and they nodded before turning their backs on Rolan and focusing their attentions within the bar.

“Given the constant darkness, I know it’s fairly difficult to tell the time, but I’m pretty sure it’s a little too early in the day to get this sloshed.” You took a seat beside Rolan. 

He looked over at you and rolled his eyes. “Oh. It’s you.”

You pursed your lips at his tone and rested your head on your hand. “Hi Rolan.”

“Don’t you get tired of telling people how to live their lives?” He took a big swig from his stein before scowling at you and turning away. “If you’re here to save the day again, you’re a little late this time.”

You sat up straighter, suddenly aware of the absence of Cal and Lia. “What happened? Where’s-”

“Oh, sod off,” he hissed. “I’m only here because you ‘helped’ me and my family.”

“I-”

“I was ready to cut and run back at the Grove, but you had other ideas.” Rolan gestured erratically with his mug and free hand.

You leaned in fractionally, attempting to calm him down enough to tell you what was happening. “Rolan, where-”

“Cal and Lia were taken in by your crap,” he slurred. “You convinced them to play hero, and now they’re gone.” 

You bit your lip and looked around, feeling stupid when you obviously caught no sight of the siblings. “Do you know where they are?”

Rolan wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and whipped his head to look at you with a scowl. “Dead, for all I know. Or in the cult’s tower with the others who were taken.”

“Taken,” you repeated, your voice catching in your throat. You looked around frantically, taking note of the tieflings you recognized. Doing a mental headcount, it appeared that the kids were almost accounted for, minus Mol, who you knew was around here somewhere, and Arabella, who was probably with Mol, but there was a distinct lack of adults you’d met back at the Grove. You spotted Alfira sitting alone at the hearth, with Lakrissa nowhere to be seen. Zevlor was also noticeably missing. 

They must have been attacked on their way to Baldur’s Gate and taken to Moonrise. You hoped that was the worst of it, praying silently to whichever god was listening that the tieflings would be okay. 

As your eyes continued to scan the taproom, you spotted Shadowheart, Wyll, Lae’zel, and Karlach talking pointedly with Jaheira over a map spread out over her desk. Their attention was drawn away from the map for a moment when Astarion strode by them with a heavy tome from a wall of books, over to a table where Gale was reading what appeared to be a small book of poetry. It seemed as though Gale had just recently sat down without Astarion’s knowledge, because the vampire gathered up a stack of books resting on the table and rerouted to an empty one out of earshot from the wizard. 

When Astarion caught your eye, he froze momentarily and you sent him a small smile. His eyes flicked between you and Rolan, his brow furrowing ever so slightly. You shook your head minutely, causing him to turn back slowly towards his empty table and dust off the newest book you assumed was full of Infernal translations of some kind. You pretended not to notice him watching you closely.

Rolan, meanwhile, was still brooding over his ale. “Get the bottle,” he nodded at Meli, “give me the bottle - it’s not hard.”

Meli crossed his arms. “I don’t want to.”

“And I don’t want to give you a lashing,” Rolan slurred, “but I will, damn it.”

“Whoa,” you said, holding up both hands, “let’s not resort to threatening kids just because we’re angry.” 

You laid a gentle hand on Rolan’s arm, only for him to shake you off roughly. 

“How dare you tell me - me - how to live my life. After everything I’ve just said.”

Before you had a chance to respond, a flash of silver glinted before your eyes as Astarion slammed a dagger into the wood of the counter between you and Rolan. 

“Is there a problem here?” he asked, sidling up next to you, and helping himself to a bottle of red wine within reach. His books laid abandoned at his empty table not too far off.

“You gonna pay for that?” Zaki asked with a huff.

“Quiet, child whose name I’ve never cared to learn.” You crossed your arms and gave Astarion a look before he rolled his eyes and extended his neck towards you. “She’ll cover it.”

You rolled your eyes in return and reached into your pocket to hand the tiefling a gold piece. 

“I knew I liked you,” Zaki smirked before running off to show the other kids his loot. 

Astarion raised an eyebrow. “Gold, darling? Really?”

“I think we’ll survive,” you said softly before pulling the knife out of the countertop and laying it gently on its side. 

Astarion caught sight of the blade and refocused his attention on the bitter wizard beside him. “As I said, is there a problem here?” His words came out like a growl and his hand flexed as if preparing to strike, before realizing his dagger was on the counter, and instead opted for a swig of his overpriced wine.

“No problem at all,” Rolan said in mock nonchalance. “It’s only that your partner here led my siblings to their doom.” He slammed his mug on the counter, earning a few curious and annoyed looks from other patrons and passing Harpers. 

“Okay good, so no problem then,” Astarion took another swig of his wine.

“Astarion,” you hissed before turning back to Rolan. “We’ll rescue them.”

“If they’re alive,” Astarion muttered. He nearly choked when you forcefully nudged him with your elbow.

“Bullshit,” Rolan snapped. “If they’re alive, I can save them. They’re my responsibility.” He downed the rest of his drink before boldly turning to face you and Astarion head on. He puffed out his chest, attempting to look bigger. “You go save the world, or your own arse, or whatever it is you do.”

“Hey,” Astarion slammed down his own bottle and rose to his full height, “your useless siblings would be lucky to be saved by her.”

“How dare you,” Rolan moved closer to Astarion, but you weaved in-between them before either of them could get their hands on the other. Patrons were starting to stare. You even caught Jaheira turning to give you a curious raise of her eyebrow.

“Both of you, cut it out.” You placed a hand on Astarion’s chest to keep him at bay, and didn’t dare to touch Rolan again. Astarion, in turn, took your hand and brought it to his mouth for a kiss. 

“Listen here, you shoddy excuse of a wizard,” Astarion clutched your hand to his chest and refused to let it go when you attempted to pry it free, “if this woman offers her help, she means it. And based on our numbers, eight, I believe, as opposed to your, what? One?”

“Astarion-”

“I’d say you should take her up on that offer.”

Rolan scoffed. “As if your oafish party could infiltrate Moonrise unnoticed. I’ll have a much easier time sneaking in by myself.”

Astarion laughed airly. “Oh, please, darling, you set one foot outside the protective barrier on this place and the shadows will come for you. You’ll go mad and join your siblings in the great beyond.”

“Astarion, please,” you said sharply and finally pulled your hand free from his grasp.

“I don’t have to listen to this,” Rolan said flatly. He got up to leave, stumbling a bit as he headed in the direction of the entrance.

Astarion crossed his arms with a smug look of triumph on his face. He called after him with the finishing blow: “Do tell the shadows I miss their cold embrace when they swallow you whole.”

The comment made Rolan turn on his heel and march back, sidestepping you and pressing an accusatory finger into Astarion’s chest. “Why is it so important to you whether my family lives or dies? Huh? Do you get some sort of… boon? From whatever devil created a fanged freak like you?”

Your eyes darted back and forth between the tiefling and the vampire, smiling awkwardly at patrons who passed by and shrugging as if to say, “Can you believe these guys?”

Astarion laughed again. “Darling, I couldn’t care less about the fate of you, or any other refugee for that matter.”

A look of confusion passed over Rolan’s face before it morphed back into a scowl. “Then why do you care about this?”

“I don’t.”

“You do!”

You stepped forward, bringing your hands up to try and offer a showing of peace. “Come on, boys. Rolan, we’d be happy to look for your siblings and help however we can. Astarion, why don’t we leave Rolan to think about it for a bit and-”

Rolan shook his head. “Oh no, I’m going after Cal and Lia on my own, and you can’t stop me.”

Astarion rolled his eyes. “A mistake.”

“Leave me to my own choices, will you?!”

“Not when your choices are objectively stupid and illogical!” He took a step forward, causing Rolan to take an indignant step back. Astarion smirked and looked down his nose at his opponent. “Which is funny, seeing as how you tote yourself around as if you’re some big wizard prodigy.” He took another step forward and lowered his voice menacingly. “Why don’t you use that brain of yours and stay here, where you can’t bother anybody else?”

This time, Rolan stood his ground and raised his voice. “Why do you care?!”

“Because she cares and I love her!” 

Time froze. 

Astarion was locked in a stare down with Rolan, as if his declaration was the most obvious thing in the world and not something that had just changed everything.

I love her. 

The words replayed your mind like the most beautiful melody you’d ever heard. 

Astarion had a way of doing that; reciting words or sounds or phrases that quickly became your new favorite songs. 

But this time, you couldn’t quite believe what you were hearing.

“What?” Your hand reached out and brushed his softly.

Astarion jolted and slowly turned to look at you, sudden panic flashing over his features. “What?”

“You said-”

“Nothing. I said nothing.”

“No, you said-”

He raised his voice to speak over you. “I said something devastating to this wizard, rendering him absolutely shattered, isn’t that right, wizard?” He looked to Rolan for help, but Rolan’s eyes were wide with discomfort.

“Oh, this… was that the first-? While you were yelling at me? Yikes.” He began to back away slowly. 

Astarion lunged forward to grab him, but Rolan’s tipsiness worked to his advantage and somehow allowed him to bob out of the elf’s grasp. 

“Get back here!” Astarion floundered, but you caught him by the wrist. 

“You said you loved me!” You were smiling widely, your heart the fullest it had ever been. 

“No I didn’t!” Astarion snatched his hand out of yours and turned to face you while actively backing away. 

You laughed in thrilled disbelief. “Yes you did!”

“No I didn’t!” He crossed his arms in front of himself as if you were a demon coming to rip his unbeating heart out of his very ribs.

“You love me!”

“No I don’t!” He sounded almost like a child as he insisted he hadn’t just said the three little words you’d been so eager to hear. 

“Astarion, I-”

“Your move, Mol,” a sultry voice reached your ears, somehow piercing through your train of thought and what you had been about to confess. You scrunched your nose at the suddenly overpowering scent of cherries masking a fouler stench of sulfur. 

Astarion was frozen leaning away from you, but his eyes shifted towards the voice and then back to you before he darted in Raphael’s direction. 

“Astarion!” you called after him, hot on his heels.

He barely turned to respond. “Can’t hear you darling, important business must be attended to!”

“This is important business!” you countered.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, dearest!” He came to a halt in a smaller room connected to the large tap room. You stopped short behind him, nearly slamming into his back. 

Immediately you spied Raphael sitting elegantly in front of a game of lanceboard. Mol was sitting opposite from him, squinting at the pieces and analyzing her current position. 

“You trapped me,” she said, annoyed. “I didn’t even want to take this one.”

“Calimshan rules, dear,” Raphael explained, and Astarion groaned quietly next to you. “The first piece touched is the first piece moved.”

“Boring,” Astarion muttered.

Mol huffed. “That’s garbage! No matter where the knight goes, I’m gonna lose it.”

Raphael’s tone became more stern when he instructed, “Then make the sacrifice useful. Guard your Mystra, or come for my Cyric.” 

“We should really talk,” you murmured to Astarion, who cleared his throat and drew Raphael and Mol’s attention to you instead.

Mol’s face instantly lit up when she saw you. “Look who made it! For once I saved your butt out there with Jaheira, didn’t I?” 

You returned her smile, stepping closer and pretending to punch her upper arm playfully. “You sure did. Can’t thank you enough for that, Mol.”

She gave you a smug sideways smirk. “We’re square now, chief.”

“I guess we are,” you laughed. 

“Say,” she said, “do you play lanceboard by any chance? It’s my first time playing.” 

Judging by the mischievous glint in her eye, you immediately clocked that she was lying to throw off Raphael. 

“Oh, he’s laid a fine trap for you, Mol,” came Gale’s voice over your right shoulder. 

“Where did you come from?” Astarion yelped and clutched his chest from his spot on your left.

Gale opted to ignore Astarion’s dramatic display and continued, “But it looks to me like his Cyric could be dethroned.”

You nodded, thinking back to several lanceboard games you’d played with Gale over the course of this journey. You lowered your voice and nodded at the pieces in front of Mol. “Gale’s right. Put pressure on him. Attack the pieces in front of his Cyric.” 

Mol gave you and Gale an impish grin before following through with the move you both recommended. She looked immensely satisfied when she knocked the piece guarding Raphael’s God of Lies from the board. 

Raphael raised his eyebrows, looking both proud and surprised. “My, the Theskan Double Counter-gambit. Vicious.” He chuckled darkly. “Exactly what I would have done.” 

With another self satisfied smirk, Mol removed Raphael’s Cyric from the board completely. “How’s that for Calimshan rules?”

“Brava!” Raphael said, spreading his arms out wide. “Lovely work. I see I was right to make you the offer I did.” 

Your stomach dropped. “Wait, what?”

Raphael didn’t take his eyes off Mol. “You will consider it, won’t you?”

Without another word, Mol got up and you watched as she returned to the other tiefling kids behind the bar.

“What a lovely specimen she is,” Raphael said as your eyes followed her. 

The hairs on the back of your neck stood up as you turned to look back at him. 

He was standing now. “A blushing apple, begging to be plucked.” He mimed the action of pulling an apple from its spot on a branch, his eyebrows furrowed to accompany his conniving smile. 

You stepped to the side, attempting to block Mol from his view. “Leave her alone, Raphael.”

He ignored your warning and changed the subject. “The Theskan move suggestion was inspired. I had no idea you played.”

Gale chuckled. “I’ve been known to dabble.”

“He’s not talking to you, purple,” Astarion spat the last word as if it were an insult. 

Gale stared at him for a moment before shrugging. “Purple has always suited me rather nicely, thank you.”

“Why are you here, Raphael?” you asked. “To play games?”

Raphael’s expression became almost unreadable. “To play the game. The vast lanceboard of souls.”

“Well that doesn’t sound legally sanctioned by the Lanceboard Committee of Baldur’s Gate,” Gale muttered. 

Astarion rolled his eyes. “I wish you would explode.”

Raphael continued, this time his voice was overly saccharine. “Don’t you worry about Mol. It goes without saying she still has the unconditional freedom to choose the only option she has left.” 

Gale leaned over to you and whispered, “Ominous, that.”

“Quiet,” Astarion hissed, causing Raphael’s attention to turn on him. 

“Now,” Raphael said, placing a hand on his hip and pointing a lazy finger at Astarion, “let’s talk about you. I sense there’s something you want to ask me.”

“I do,” Astarion said, hunching forward as if to make himself smaller, “I have a… proposal… for you.” When you turned to glance at him with wide eyes, he corrected himself. “A proposition! A request. A… deal, I suppose, for lack of a better term.”

“A proposal,” Raphael’s eyes shifted between you two, probably knowing the exact tension that was occurring between the two of you right now. 

It wouldn’t surprise you. 

He chuckled, but didn’t press further. “If you’re hoping to taste my blood, little vampling, think again. It burns hotter than Wyvern Whiskey.”

“This is serious business,” Astarion tried to sound firm before adding, “devil.”

Raphael smirked at him, but inclined his head to encourage Astarion to continue. 

“My old - well… A long time ago, someone carved infernal runes into my back,” Astarion explained. “They are a fragment of a contract. I’d like to know what the full contract says.” 

“Hmmmmm…” Raphael dragged out the sound far longer than necessary. 

Astarion straightened himself, attempting to look bravely back at the devil, but you saw the way he absently tapped his finger against his thigh. The way he blinked a little more frequently than normal.

You turned to Raphael, annoyed. “Don’t play games, Raphael. Help him out.”

“Oh, such impatience,” Raphael said sarcastically. When neither you nor Astarion took the bait to squabble with him, he continued. “It’s something very important to your master. But is it a love letter?” He looked pointedly at you and you did your best to keep your expression even. “A warning, perhaps? Or a deed of ownership? I could give you all the gory details.”

“So do it,” you growled, feeling extremely protective of the man to your left who’d just bared part of his soul to this devil. And Gale.

“Ah ah ah,” Raphael tsked. “You’ll have to do something for me first. Let me think about it and get back to you.”

Astarion stammered and held his arms out dramatically. “You’ll ‘get back’ to me? This is important, devil!” After a moment, he sighed. “When?”

“Don’t worry,” Raphael said, the cunning smile refusing to leave his face, “I’m motivated to help you. Scars often tell such wonderful stories - I think yours might be truly exquisite.” 

Before you could interrogate him any further, Raphael vanished in a sour smelling puff of smoke.

“Good gracious, that’s foul,” Gale plugged his nose and waved his hand in front of his face.

You coughed repeatedly, shutting your eyes tight to make sure whatever residue Raphael left behind didn’t blur your vision. When you opened them again, you saw Astarion hightailing it out of the small room and across the taproom.

“Astarion!” you called. “Get back here, you heathen!”

As Astarion went to open one of the side doors of the inn to escape speaking with you, he slammed face first into Halsin’s chest.

“Oh!” Halsin exclaimed and peeled the vampire off of his tunic. “My apologies, Astarion, I was just coming inside to check on things with Moonrise Towers.”

Astarion held a hand to his forehead. “It’s like you’re made of cement.”

You caught up with him and witnessed him slump significantly. 

“Oh, hello, darling.” His tone was jovial, but his expression was one of disappointment at having been caught so easily. 

You placed your hands on your hips. “We need to talk.”

“News of Moonrise?” Halsin asked.

“No, the others are discussing that with Jaheira over there.” You pointed your thumb over your shoulder towards Jaheira’s desk, where your companions were still listening to her and hunching over a map. “No, I need to speak with Astarion in private-”

“Excellent reminder, darling,” Astarion said, straightening up and walking past you, over to Jaheira and the others. “We simply must plan out our next move!”

You turned to watch him go and stood next to Halsin, sighing heavily and pinching the bridge of your nose.

Halsin laid a gentle hand on your shoulder. “Everything alright? I hope nothing troubles the ever growing bond between you two?”

You began walking with him over to Jaheira’s desk. “He’s just being an idiot. He told me something very interesting and I want to talk to him about it more in depth.”

Halsin nodded. “You heard about the night he ran into me in bear form.”

“No, he-” You stopped short and looked at Halsin. “What?”

“There’s the fearless leader these cubs won’t stop talking about,” Jaheira said loudly, causing you to turn away from Halsin and finish taking the last few steps over to her desk. 

You approached Astarion, who stared blankly ahead and made no attempt at hiding the large step he took away from you. You rolled your eyes and stepped forward to stand between Karlach and Shadowheart, observing the map in front of you. 

“You all have been talking for quite a bit.” You noticed different markings on the map, suggesting different routes to take towards Moonrise. “Have you figured anything out?”

Wyll crossed his arms and blew out a breath. “Only that our opponent seems to be invincible, according to Jaheira.”

“So says she,” Lae’zel placed her hands on her hips and repositioned her feet to stand tall. “She has no idea how lethal we are.”

“Ketheric was a Sharran,” Shadowheart said quietly, lost in thought. “He was building an army of Dark Justiciars beneath this village.” She turned her head to look at you. “I knew my Lady Shar’s influence here was all consuming, but… Dark Justiciars?” Her voice took on a dreamlike quality, “Only the very finest proved themselves worthy of the title. They’ve been silent for years but… an entire army? That must have been a fearsome sight.”

“Yes…” Jaheira side-eyed Shadowheart skeptically. She looked at you and said, “To bring you up to speed, General Ketheric Thorm, the Absolutist leader at Moonrise is a formidable foe that myself, my Harpers, and local druids saw to depose - we witnessed him dead and buried. But he’s returned. Not only does he live again, it seems he is no longer mortal. He has become, as Wyll said, invincible.”

“Chk,” Lae’zel rolled her eyes.

“I don’t fancy his chances,” Gale joked as he integrated himself into the group, causing Astarion to jump again.

“So help me gods, you must stop doing that.”

“Supposedly, the Harpers met Ketheric on the road commanding an army of Absolutists, intent on destroying Baldur’s Gate.” Karlach half smiled, proud to be relaying a new Jaheira tale to you. “Jaheira here saw to putting a fucking arrow through his fucking eye, only to watch the bastard pluck it out.”

“‘Like a splinter,’ in her words,” Wyll added helpfully.

Halsin whistled lowly. “Sounds like quite the nasty rival.”

Jaheira nodded. “He healed right in front of me, and chased us into the shadows. Things looked hopeless, but experience has taught me that no matter how bleak things look, there’s always hope.”

“Damn right,” Karlach grinned. 

Jaheira smiled at the tiefling, then looked around at your entire party. “You are that hope.”

Astarion gagged and rolled his eyes, earning an elbow in the side from Karlach.

“We’ll try our best,” you said.

“I was telling your companions here that while protected by your artifact,” Jaheira went on, “you can infiltrate his forces at Moonrise Towers, posing as True Souls.”

“A risky, but clever move,” Lae’zel smirked. “I like it.”

“If we can find out what makes him invincible,” Wyll said, “perhaps we can strip him of his advantage.”

Jaheira nodded. “Together, we assault his tower and put a final end to this blight.”

Astarion sniffed pompously. “You want to make use of our infection.” He placed a hand on his hip and gestured around with his free hand, “Some of us, not necessarily me, of course, I’m rather enjoying the sun when it’s not currently being banished by the Mistress of the Night-”

“Watch it,” Shadowheart warned through gritted teeth.

“Some of us,” Astarion continued, “want to be cured of it.” 

Jaheira watched him carefully. “Any cure starts with understanding the disease. Whatever magic Ketheric’s using to control these tadpoles, it must be at Moonrise.”

“Well,” Gale clapped his hands together, “sounds like we should get a move on if we plan on finding that cure any time soon.”

Jaheira looked to you. “I’ve already shared what I believe to be the best route to the Towers with your friends here.” She nodded her head towards Wyll, Shadowheart, Karlach, and Lae’zel. 

“Thank you,” you said. “Ketheric’s days are numbered - I’ll make sure of it.”

The Harper met you with a sad smile. “Without a cure for your infection, your days are numbered, yet you selflessly offer to spend them fighting alongside us. I like you.”

“Isn’t she the best?” Karlach clapped you on the shoulder, grinning, before clearing her throat. “I- I mean after you, of course.” She smiled awkwardly at Jaheira. 

Jaheira laughed, then addressed all of you: “I promise I will do everything I can to make sure you survive this.” 

Your companions offered their thanks, accompanied by a dramatic eye roll from Astarion. 

“Before you go,” Jaheira said, “there’s someone else you should meet.”

“Gods,” Astarion muttered, “we’re going to be stuck here forever if we keep yammering instead of doing.”

“I’m sorry,” Jaheira raised an eyebrow, “do you wish to be consumed by shadow?”

“If we have a choice,” Wyll said, “I’d prefer not to.”

“Good man,” she smiled at the warlock before looking around at everyone again. “You’re not our only secret weapon.” She rolled up the map laid before you all and handed it off to Wyll. “Isobel - a faithful cleric of Selûne, and a light in the darkness.” 

“Selûne?” Shadowheart wrinkled her nose in disgust. “Why would a servant to the Moonmaiden be all the way out here?”

“You’re lucky she is,” Jaheira gave Shadowheart a look, as if daring her to make another comment on the matter. “She cast the moon shield around the inn. It’s the only reason we’re still alive.” She moved to her right to point at a set of stairs in the small room off the taproom where you’d been speaking to Raphael. “She’s upstairs in her chambers. Tell her I sent you and she’ll see you through the shadows safely.” 

“We already have a lantern that protects us.” Shadowheart crossed her arms. 

“And I’m sure it’s very fine,” Jaheira said. “But lanterns have a tricky habit of going out when you need them.” When Shadowheart didn’t respond, Jaheira added, “Let’s not spurn what few gifts the gods choose to give us, hm?”

You had a feeling the “gods” she was referring to wasn’t the one Shadowheart had pledged her life to. 

“Well I, for one, can’t wait to see what this Isobel has to show us!” Astarion said, suddenly cheerful, and booking it up the stairs. 

Your party watched him go.

“What’s with him?” Karlach asked. 

“Very hot and cold, no?” Gale agreed. “I mean, more so than usual.”

“He’s being an idiot about something he said,” you sighed. “And it didn’t have anything to do with bears,” you pointed at Halsin before he could say anything. 

He simply smiled and shrugged, and followed everyone up the stairs.

“Sounds about right,” Shadowheart said. 

Lae’zel narrowed her eyes. “When has Astarion ever spoken about bears?” 

“He got drunk on one once,” you laughed. “But it wasn’t about that.”

“What was it about, then?” Wyll asked. “We’ve all said silly things we regret.”

“This wasn’t some silly thing, though” you clarified. “It was kind of important.”

Astarion ran out of a room beyond the balcony looking down into the taproom. “Would you all hurry up? I think I found her.”

You approached him as quickly as you could, trying to catch him off guard and reaching for his hand, but he dodged you and slipped back into the room. 

“Astarion!” you called and sped up even more to follow after him. 

You and the rest of the party entered into a large room - sectioned off to your right was a wall with two large doorways that lead into what appeared to be a study, complete with looming bookcases, a desk, and a fireplace. The rest of the room appeared to be a bedroom, based on the large bed with its headboard resting against the back wall, and a number of wardrobes. A large door that you assumed led outside stood next to the bed.

“Fancy digs,” Karlach murmured. 

You paused when Astarion thrust open the balcony door and revealed a woman with short white hair muttering incantations under her breath, surrounded by candles and white light.

“Now there’s a cleric of Selûne if I’ve ever seen one,” Gale said.

“And just how many of those have you come across?” Shadowheart sniffed.

“Quite a lot in my studies, actually. I’ve read about this one cleric of Selûne who-”

“Stop speaking,” Lae’zel hissed as you and your party made their way onto the balcony with Isobel. 

An orb of light appeared in Isobel’s hand and she spun her hands around it, making it grow bigger and brighter with moon magic. High above your heads, a full moon somehow shown down on you, despite Shar’s curse. The eight of you remained silent as she thrust the orb upwards where it met the barrier of the moonshield and reinforced the entire thing with a burst of light. 

Isobel looked up to admire her work before coughing weakly and turning around to face you all. “I didn’t realize I had an audience.”

“Really?” Astarion crossed his arms. “I mean, with me, I can understand, but they sound like a stampede of wild gnolls.” He gestured to the rest of you. 

Isobel gave him an amused half smile. “Please,” she extended a hand back into her room, “join me inside.” 

You purposely let the others go ahead of you and grabbed Astarion’s wrist before he could slip past you again. “I have things I need to say to you,” you said quietly.

“Perhaps later,” he responded, pulling his arm from your grasp and nearly tripping back into Isobel’s chambers. 

You rolled your eyes and followed him in, only to be addressed directly by Isobel herself.

“The True Soul who’s come to save us all.” She looked you up and down and smiled. “I’m Isobel. Pleased to meet you.” She finished with a small bow.

“And you,” you returned her bow and saw Karlach mimic it out of the corner of your eye. “We’ve been told you’re the protector of this inn - the banisher of shadows.” You wiggled your fingers as if telling small children about the boogeyman.

Isobel laughed lightly. “Myself and Our Lady are doing what we can to hold the line. I hear you and your tadpole will be our offense.” 

“Show us what to slay and it shall be done,” Lae’zel offered matter-of-factly.

Isobel scanned your group thoughtfully, the black paint around her eyes making her irises look piercingly blue. “All of you… free from the Absolute’s influence, yet able to walk among cultists. It’s almost too good to be true.”

“Uh, that it is,” Halsin said. “I, myself, remain tadpole free. Though I seek to help rid this land of the shadows that dwell here.”

“Then Our Lady thanks you most graciously,” Isobel nodded towards Halsin and he looked pleased by her approval. She turned back to you. “I’d be a poor cleric indeed not to avail of a blessing when I see one.” 

“Hear that?” Karlach nudged Wyll. “We’re a blessing.”

“We’ll certainly try to earn the praise,” Wyll chuckled. 

“Let me guess,” Isobel raised her eyebrows, assessing your group again, “Jaheira sent you all to beg a protection spell off her favorite cleric.” 

“You got it,” Gale confirmed. 

“If you wouldn’t mind,” Karlach added.

“With pleasure,” Isobel laughed. 

She closed her eyes as a golden column of light overtook her entire being. Lifting an arm above her head, her entire body turned gold until the light concentrated into only the hand she had raised in the air. She brought it down and held it in front of you, palm facing outwards. 

Suddenly, you were all surrounded by the same column of golden light that enveloped Isobel, and a warm calmness overtook your senses. 

Suddenly you knew that the shadows would subside and that you all would be bathed in the peaceful light of the moon once again.

Suddenly, it felt like everything was going to be okay. 

“Tingly,” you remarked.

“Perfect,” Isobel smiled. “That spell will make you immune to the lesser effects of the shadow curse, which will get you closer to the towers.”

“Thank you,” you said, observing your limbs and noticing how they now vaguely glowed with moon magic. Your companions seemed to be doing the same.

“But,” Isobel continued, “there are places it won’t help - places where the curse is darker. Stronger.” 

“And we will destroy these stronger shadows,” Lae’zel lifted her head confidently. 

Isobel exhaled slowly. “The cultists are able to traverse even the deepest shadows, though. I don’t know how - the Harpers are trying to figure it out.”

Shadowheart, who seemed to be more interested in the glowing of her limbs than the rest of you, looked up at Isobel with a scowl. “Selûnite magic. Dark Lady forgive me.”

“Good nose,” Isobel said sarcastically. “Like a nasty little terrier.”

Lae’zel snorted. “She already proclaimed herself to be a follower of Selûne. Were you not listening?”

Shadowheart shot her a glare. 

“Well, this has been lovely,” Astarion said, making his way to the door leading back into the inn proper. “Anything else we should know before we head off to save the day?” He was already halfway out the door, not bothering to wait for an answer, clearly trying to make a stealthy exit. 

You eyed Halsin, who nodded and retrieved the rogue by his arm before he could leave, closing the door behind both of them for good measure.

“Let me go, you humongous imbecile!” Astarion pounded his free arm against Halsin’s chest before Halsin released him and refused to let him move a muscle towards the door. Astarion huffed and crossed his arms, turning his nose up at the rest of you.

“Is he okay?” Isobel asked. 

“This is relatively normal behavior from him, actually,” Karlach said. 

“But please,” you waved a hand in front of yourself, “is there anything else we should know?”

Isobel thought for a moment. “Ketheric is a frightening man. But you have something he doesn’t: allies worth having.” 

You felt a wave of pride wash over you and your companions. 

“Daw,” Karlach kicked at the floorboard under her feet. “That’s very sweet.”

Isobel gave her a small smile. “While you’re all busy at the towers, I’ll be sure to-” 

She froze. 

“Wait. Do you hear that?”

The eight of you strained to hear what she could be referring to. 

Astarion clicked his tongue loudly. “I don’t hear-”

Isobel interrupted him. “Something’s wrong.”

That’s when you finally heard it: The beating of wings followed by a man landing hard on Isobel’s balcony. He wore the uniform of a Flaming Fist, and the way his wings moved seemed new and unnatural. He stood and retracted the black, feathery abominations, before exhaling and walking into the room. 

“Hello, Isobel.”

“Marcus,” Isobel breathed, “is that you? What’s happened to you?”

Halsin leaned forward. “I take it, you know this man?”

“I’ve been blessed,” Marcus said before Isobel could answer. “You can be, too. Come with me and you can hear all about it from Ketheric himself.”

“Isobel,” you said, not taking your eyes off Marcus, “who is this man?”

“He’s a Flaming Fist!” she exclaimed. “Or was. He came with the others when we created this haven.” 

“There are more Fists here?” Wyll muttered. 

Marcus addressed Isobel, “And I thank you for your hospitality.” Then he turned towards you.

You felt the familiar squirm of your tadpole being probed. Much to your dismay, Marcus’s voice rang out inside your head. 

“True Soul, my instructions are clear: take the girl to Ketheric.”

You wrinkled your nose, hating the sensation of his unwanted presence in your brain. In an act of defiance, you needled further into his own mind. 

A haunting face swam into your mind’s eye, its instructions vivid: “nothing is more important than bringing the girl - alive.”

Isobel must have seen the sour expression on your face because she turned towards Marcus aggressively. “What’s going on? If you have something to say, say it.”

“Marcus is trying to kidnap you, Isobel” you narrowed your eyes at the Fist. You looked back at your party, all of whom were already getting into battle positions. You turned to Marcus and took one step forward, bending your knees and dropping into a fighting stance. “Looks like we’re going to have to fight our way out of this one.”

Isobel’s eyes went wide.

“Pathetic,” Marcus spat. “The Absolute sees all - your treachery will be punished!” 

“The Absolute,” Isobel repeated before scowling. “Of course.” She gave Marcus a pleading look when she said, “You can’t believe them, Marcus. Ketheric will never give you whatever it is you’ve been promised.”

Marcus chuckled darkly and spread his hideous wings. “He already has.” He looked at her dead in the eyes. “Time to go, Isobel.”

With that, he reared backwards and roared loudly, far louder than any human of his size should be able to manage. You all stood in horror as you heard screeches and roars from Winged Horrors that flew abruptly into the inn and Isobel’s room. Already, you could hear shouting and screams from down below.

Isobel lifted a hand into the air. “Moonmaiden, guide my hand!”

Before she could cast anything, Marcus let out another piercing roar, knocking you all off guard.

Gale, who’d been standing out of his range, ran forward, a spell already prepped in his hand. When his touch connected with Isobel, she vanished; invisible.

“Good thinking, Gale!” you shouted, pulling your lute off your back and strumming some inspiration in his direction. 

Karlach and Lazel were already knocking back the Winged Horrors with their weapons, while Wyll thrust his rapier towards Marcus. Halsin shifted into bear form and growled at the Fist before taking a slash at him. Shadowheart summoned a circle of Spirit Guardians and rushed into the fray.

“We need to check on the others!” you shouted above the din of the battle. “I think they’ve got it covered in here!”

Astarion twirled a dagger in his hand. “Excellent idea, my darling,” he smirked before thrusting open the doors out into the inn.

To your shock and horror, you both found Raphael standing there, nonchalantly checking his nails. 

“Ah!” he said with fake surprise when he finally acknowledged you both standing there. “Just the lovebirds I was looking for. Remember that favor I mentioned earlier?”

“Right now?!” you cried in disbelief, gesturing to the chaos around you. You witnessed Jaheira shift into a jaguar and swat a Winged Horror out of the air. 

Raphael chuckled. “Oh, I think right now is the perfect time.” He raised his hand.

You and Astarion exchanged frantic glances.

“Wait!” Astarion shouted.

Raphael snapped his fingers.

And everything went black.

[darkwitchoferie]

Train Ride - Chapter 10, Finale

A/N: This is the last chapter. It feels wild that I even wrote it, let alone that so many of you have enjoyed it. Thank you all so much!! I don’t even have the words to express to you all how much I love your enjoyment of my story.

I apologize if any of this seems – disjointed. Part of it was written while I’ve had the flu. Which I still have but I wanted to get this out, so my proof reading may not have been the best.

A special thanks to both Sorsha (@daydreams-after-dark) as it was her birthday event that started this whole thing with my original oneshot. And to @skzficpriv for your comment on said original oneshot being the push I apparently needed to actually write this whole fic out.

Finally, I decided the finale needed to be broken up into the rachas and that vocalracha should be first – seems like they’re always last when I’ve seen other fics or series broken up like this. Enjoy!

Cw/tw: unprotected vaginal and anal sex, consensual somnophilia, oral (m & f receiving), cum eating, face fucking, double vag penetration, member x member action, reader called a slut (and is very into it)

Wc: 5k

Master list

~~ Vocalracha ~~

Technically, it was Seungmin’s night to be on his own. There was a somewhat complicated rotation to who, of the nine of you, was sleeping alone and who was sleeping with who. Sometimes the alone person wouldn’t end up alone and would be invited back with someone else. Sometimes a pair that was ‘scheduled’ to be together, ended up separating and sleeping elsewhere for the night. But the loose, somewhat complicated schedule was to help make sure that the nine of you were not only getting equitable time with each other, but that you also had alone time when you wanted.

Dating, you’d reflected once, was complicated when there were this many people involved.

You didn’t bother waiting for a reply text from Jeongin, just went through your nighttime routine and climbed into his bed. Knowing what you wanted to happen, you didn’t bother with pajamas, they’d just get in the way. You used to, back when you first proposed the somnophilia idea to Chan, have difficulty falling asleep when you were anticipating him coming home. Now, though you were very much still anticipating your boyfriends arrival, you found it easier to fall asleep.

When you awoke, however many hours later, it was to the feeling of something in your mouth and your cunt. Your eyes fluttered open to see Seungmin kneeling over your chest, the head of his cock resting just barely in your mouth. Behind Seungmin, you could feel Jeongin’s hands on your hips as he kept pushing into you.

You bent your knees up, hooking one over Innie’s hip, as you opened your mouth wider for Seung, sliding a hand up to grip his hip. You had a fleeting thought to wonder how you didn’t feel them move you onto your back, as you’d fallen asleep on your side, but quickly gave yourself over to the sleep-hazed pleasure they were providing. Seungmin gently cradled your head, lifting slightly, as he shallowly fucked into your mouth. The angle wasn’t right for you to take all of him, but neither of you cared.

Jeongin bottomed out inside you, holding still for just a moment to allow you to adjust, both of you feeling your arousal seep from you, adding to the lube he’d used before you woke up. The pair set a sync’d rhythm, both pulling out and pushing in at the same time. With your free hand, you reached down to your own hip, gripping Innie’s hand.

Maybe for most people, this wouldn’t be considered ‘making love’, it would’ve just been sex, perverse sex at that considering how it started. But to you, for you with your men, this was very loving. The way Jeongin slid in and out of you – slow and deep so you could feel all of him; the way Seungmin was looking down at you; the way they were both holding onto you all combined to make you feel very loved.

After several more thrusts, Seungmin twisted his head to look back at Jeongin. Some sort of unspoken communication passed between the two men, but you didn’t know what it was right away. Seungmin pulled back, pulling himself fully out of your mouth. At your whine of protest, he smirked down at you and bent nearly in half to press a quick kiss to your pouting lips.

“Ya know what we haven’t gotten a chance to do you yet, pretty girl?” Seungmin asked, swinging his leg over so he was no longer kneeling over your chest. His fingers danced down your belly, then rubbed against your pussy lips where you were connected to Jeongin. You knew exactly what he meant.

As much as you loved being doubly penetrated since the first time with Minho and Hyunjin, it wasn’t something you did very often. It, sadly for you, tended to leave you feeling extra sore which almost always meant you wouldn’t be having fun with any of your men the next day. Still, you spread your legs wider, canting your hips against Seungmin’s fingers, eager to have them both in you.

The pair of them smiled down at you as Seung gathered the lube and your slick that was leaking around Innie’s cock to lubricate his own fingers. The pair leaned over you, kissing, licking, and sucking at your skin as a pleasant distraction while Seung carefully pushed one of his fingers into your pussy beside Innie’s cock.

“Doing so good for us, sweet girl,” Innie muttered against your skin. He’d stopped thrusting, allowing Seung to prep you to take both of them. “Always so eager for us to play with you, aren’t you? Always so happy to make us feel good.”

“Mm. Feel good too.”

“I know, sweet girl,” he lifted his head to smile down at you. “You always feel so good taking care of us, huh?”

You worked to keep your hips still as you felt Seungmin add a second finger, then carefully scissor his fingers apart. You were sure, in some distant part of your brain, that no matter how many times you did this, you’d never get used to the feeling of being so full. You knew the stiller you kept your hips, the faster and easier it was for them to prep you and the sooner you’d be as full as possible.

You felt Innie press harder down on your hip and only had to wonder why for a moment. With unerring accuracy, his thumb landed on your clit, rubbing circles against the bundle of nerves.

“God, I love these piercings,” Seungmin said over the sound of your mewling. “Make you so much more responsive.” He kept his fingers buried in you as he leaned up to wrap his lips around first one, then the other nipple, sucking and flicking the hard nubs with his tongue.

In moments, between Seungmin’s fingers and mouth and Jeongin’s fingers, you were clenching and arching as your first orgasm washed through you. As you relaxed, coming down from your orgasm, Seung added a third finger, pulling a deep moan from your throat.

“Ready,” you gasped out. “Please Seung. ‘M ready, promise,” you pleaded, gripping his hair after just a few short thrusts of all three fingers.

“Okay pretty girl. I believe you.” They both pulled out of you, chuckling in tandem at your whine. “We’ve got to move if you want us both in you,” Seungmin said with a teasing smile.

Jeongin flopped onto the bed beside you and the pair of them helped you get situated, helping you sink down on his cock. You laid back against his chest, bending your knees, feet on either side of Jeongin’s thighs to make room for Seungmin. Innie’s fingers found your clit, flicking over the bud with his thumb.

Seung glared at him as he could see your cunt clenching from the stimulation. “Wait until I’m inside her, Iyen-ah,” he said, flicking the back of the younger man’s hand. Innie laughed in your ear, but moved his hand back up to rest on your lower belly. Seungmin leaned over you, claiming your lips in a surprisingly soft kiss, Jeongin shifting to kiss the side of your neck, as the elder of the two steadily eased into you. The trio of you let out matching groans once he bottomed out.

After a moment to adjust, Seungmin started slowly thrusting into you, letting his cock drag along your walls and Innie’s cock. He steadily picked up his pace until his hips were snapping forward into you.

“Not gonna last long, Seung,” Jeongin commented.

“Me neither. Pretty girl’s text put us both on edge hours ago,” he said to you. You smiled up at him, unrepentant as Jeongin’s fingers moved back to your clit. Seungmin hunched over you, lips wrapping around your nipple again, alternating sucking and licking the nub, before he switched sides, his hips not faltering in their rhythm despite the way you’d started squirming from the various stimulations.

You gave yourself over to the pleasure they were providing, not caring to keep track of anything more. When you started clenching tightly around their cocks, you heard Seungmin’s groan and Jeongin’s breathy voice in your ear.

“Feel you getting close, sweet girl. Gonna cum on our cocks? Milk both of us at once, hm? Come on, you can do it. Can feel it right there, sweets. Just let go.”

And you did, head pressing harder against Jeongin’s chest, fingers scrambling for purchase on whatever parts of your boyfriends you could reach, as you shook through your orgasm. Seconds after you, you felt Seungmin’s hips still as both their cocks twitched, filling you up with their cum.

Seungmin dropped down to rest against your chest as the three of you fought to catch your breath. You whimpered as they each gently pulled out of you. With your eyes closed, and sleep pulling at you again, you couldn’t be sure which of them it was, but one of them gently cleaned you with a damp towel.

“Gonna have to have a proper shower in the morning,” Seungmin muttered as he spooned behind you. Jeongin lay in front of you, arms around both of you as you snuggled against his chest and drifted off.

~~ Danceracha ~~

You knew Minho’s text meant they were annoyed with each other. Or, most likely, he and Hyunjin were annoyed with each other – neither of them was capable of being annoyed with Felix for more than a minute. That meant that they would not be able to relieve each others’ stress like they frequently did at the studio.

It was late, so you hurried to the JYPE building. The security guards waved you in when you arrived, handing you a visitor pass as you headed to the elevator. They were all familiar with you after all the times you’d been in with any and all of the guys and didn’t question why you were there so late.

“A trench coat, kitten? Really?” Minho raised an eyebrow at you as he took in your appearance when you walked into the dance practice room.

The three of them were as far apart as they could conceivably be. Minho was standing against the wall of mirrors, arms and ankles crossed. Hyunjin was exactly opposite him. The two of them were very pointedly not looking at one another. Felix was on the couch against the wall that also held the door you’d just walked through. He wasn’t tense enough for you to think there was a real argument going on, probably just a difference of opinion on something that could’ve been solved if the pair of them had asked for his input, which they likely hadn’t done yet.

“It’s cold out,” you justified. “Well, the rain is cold.”

“It’s not that cold, princess,” Hyunjin strode up to you. “You could’ve borrowed a hoodie, you didn’t need a full trench coat.” He tugged the belt of your coat. “It’s not even tied tightly. Wh – Princess! You’re naked!”

You laughed as the coat fell open, completely exposing you. “I suppose I could’ve just borrowed a hoodie. But that would’ve drawn attention from security downstairs, don’t you think? Not to mention all the people I passed on the way here.”

“Did you walk here like that?!” Felix jumped up from his spot on the couch. You just smiled.

“Naughty kitten,” Minho sauntered up to the three of you, then tugged you to him by the sides of your coat. “Good girl,” he praised, leaning in to capture your lips.

You kissed him for a moment, before taking a couple steps away, causing him to raise an eyebrow at you. “You gonna tell me what’s got you two pissy with each other? Or does Lix get me all to himself?”

Felix wrapped his arms around you, under the coat, snuggling against you. You wrapped him up in your coat like it was a blanket, covering both of you. You’d swear that if he could, he’d be purring as he pressed his face into your neck.

Hyunjin folded practically instantly. It was exactly what you’d thought. They were working on the choreo for their new unit song and the two of them had had a difference of opinion on a short section. Rather than talk about it, they started to get snippy. Then you learned that none of the three of them had slept much and had been going since they got to the company more than 12 hours earlier.

“Oh my loves,” you sighed, pressing a kiss to the top of Felix’s head. You didn’t bother telling them that they should have taken a break, that they needed more sleep, or any of the other things one might consider in this situation. You’d been through enough comebacks when you were still just friends with them all that you knew that wasn’t helpful. It was accurate, but it didn’t matter as it was information they already knew and would ignore for their art. Instead you said, “Next time, call me sooner. Don’t wait until you’re already pissed off at each other, yeah?”

While Hyunjin had been explaining everything, Felix’s hands had started to wander under the coat. It was nothing too distracting at first, just his fingers dancing over your ribs or down your spine. But then, obviously recognizing that Hyune had reached the end of the explanation, his fingers smoothed over your hip and down to gently tug on the new jewelry Changbin had bought for you the other day. You gasped, tightening your hold on him.

“The roses?” he asked, running his thumb over the piercing.

“Mm-hm,” you nodded.

“Wanna see.” He dropped to his knees, letting your coat fall open again so he could look more closely at your new jewelry. “Pretty,” he smiled up at you, leaning in to press a kiss against the rose-shaped piercing. His tongue darted out, flicking over your clit as he lifted one leg to rest on his shoulder.

“Bin know you’re wearing the set he got you, kitten?” Minho asked, stepping behind you to help support you. And for better access to grope your boobs.

“Considering I – ah – was just in his bed less than – right there, Lix – an hour ago, yeah. He knows.” Felix shifted a little below you, burying his tongue in your cunt with an intensity like he was chasing any taste of your other boyfriend that may have still been there. His nose brushing against your clit and Minho’s fingers teasing your nipples had you unraveling quickly.

“Look, kitten,” Minho nudged your chin so you looked up and directly at yourself in the full length mirrors across from you. “Watch yourself, like Hyune’s doing.” As he said it, you realized Hyunjin hadn’t gotten any closer to you and was just watching the three of you. “Watch yourself fall apart on Yongbok’s tongue.”

You struggled to do as Minho instructed, fighting your normal instinct to close your eyes or tip your head back in pleasure. You looked down at Felix, watching the way his head moved between your thighs.

“He’s got such a talented mouth, doesn’t he, kitten?”

“Mm-hm,” you nodded frantically.

Minho reached down, weaving his fingers in Felix’s hair and pulled the younger man away from you, pulling a whine from both of you. “Kitten,” he waited until you looked at him through the mirror. “Watch. Yourself.” As soon as you shifted your gaze to your own face, he pushed Felix’s face back against your cunt.

He kept one hand in Felix’s hair, you could feel him gently stroking his fingers through the younger man’s hair, while his other hand teased and pinched your nipples.

You’d never seen yourself outside of the pictures and videos that were in the group chat. And you hadn’t really paid much attention to yourself, always more interested in your men. Your eyes traveled over your own face, oddly entranced by the glazed look taking over your eyes and the flush high on your cheeks that traveled down your neck and chest.

There was a weird sort of disconnect when you saw Minho’s fingers teasing your nipple. You could feel it, obviously, but seeing it was… different. Almost like it was happening to someone else.

Felix switched his attention, wrapping his lips around your clit and gently sucking the bud. You gasped, hips bucking against his face and your head tipping back. You did your best to keep your eyes open and on your reflection.

“Good girl,” Minho praised, clearly noticing you’d kept your eyes on the mirror. He pressed an open mouthed kiss to the side of your neck, then sucked a bruise into the same spot. That was enough to finally tip you over the edge of the orgasm you’d felt building. You arched, back pressed against Minho, pushing your cunt firmer against Felix, and feeling more than hearing the younger man moan in response.

Quicker than you thought possible, the three of your boyfriends had you arranged the way they wanted. Felix was on his back with his cock buried in you, while you practically laid on top of him. Behind you, Hyunjin had finished prepping you and pulled his fingers from your cunt, just to press the tip of his cock into you, sliding alongside Felix.

“God, I love the face you make with two cocks in you. Look at that face, kitten.” You did, watching the way your jaw dropped, tongue lolling out slightly, then losing sight of yourself as your eyes rolled back when Hyune bottomed out. “Here, Hyune, lift her up a bit.”

Together, Minho and Hyunjin lifted you up so you were sort of upright. Your back was arched in such a way as to keep Hyunjin inside of you and allow him enough room to thrust into you. You knew already that it wouldn’t be comfortable for very long. Hyunjin wrapped his arms under your boobs in order to help keep you upright. You did your best to support yourself with your hands on Felix’s chest.

Minho, meanwhile, turned your head slightly to face him and tapped the head of his cock against your tongue before tangling a hand in your hair and steadily pressing into your mouth. Hyunjin and Minho quickly found a rhythm together, leaving you and Felix to just go along for the ride.

“That’s it. God,” Minho spoke through his moans. “Look at yourself, kitten. Look how well you take our cocks. Such a perfect little slut, aren’t you?”

The combination of two cocks in your pussy, one in your mouth, and Minho’s words was quickly building you to another orgasm. Then Felix reached up with both hands to tease, pinch, and fondle your nipples and tits. Within moments, your orgasm rocked through you, pulling first Felix then Hyunjin with you.

Hyune carefully pulled out of you, but kept his arms around your waist as Felix pulled out then shimmed down the floor to bury his tongue in your pussy, lapping up the combination of all three of your cum and quickly building you to another orgasm.

Minho groaned, fingers tightening in your hair as his hips sped up. After a few short thrusts, he buried his cock as deep in your mouth as he could, coming down your throat. Below, Felix added his fingers, crooking them perfectly while pressing against your clit with his thumb. It only took a few strokes of his thumb to have you coming in his mouth.

You sighed as you were helped to the floor beside Felix.

Vaguely, you heard Minho and Hyunjin talking and chuckled when you realized they were figuring out the compromise necessary for the dance moves they’d been working on. Felix joined your laughter as soon as he realized what was happening.

After a minute, Hyunjin pulled on clothes and went to get you a cup of tea while Minho hurried to the nearby bathroom for paper towels to clean up anything Felix had missed.

A short while later, the four of you made your way out to the parking garage where you all got into Minho’s car and he drove you all to your apartment. Inside, you all showered and crawled into your bed together.

~~ 3Racha ~~

You pushed open the door to the studio to see only Chan in the room. He was sitting on the couch, head tipped back, eyes closed.

“Hey baby.” His eyes popped open and he grinned as you shut the door behind you. “Ji and Bin?”

“Downstairs getting food. You were right, of course.”

“My hangry men,” you smiled fondly, stepping up to him and combing a hand through his hair.

He snorted, wrapping his arms loosely over your hips and bringing his head forward to rest his forehead on your belly. “Yeah, probably.” After a quiet minute, he said softly, “Are you happy, baby girl?”

“So happy. Do you... do you ever miss it just being us? I mean – are you happy too, with the way things are?” You thought he was, he hadn’t said anything that made you think otherwise, but it was important to ask.

“So happy,” he repeated your words, looking up at you with that smile you adored. “You’ve always been so full of love, my love. It’s only right you get to share it.”

You gazed at him blissfully. Sure, you didn’t get as much one-on-one time with each other as you used to, but it was amazing knowing that he wouldn’t change that either. You pushed against his forehead, gently pushing him back so you could slide onto his lap.

For a few minutes, you just basked in each others’ presence, holding onto one another and feeling the other breathe. Then you felt something else.

You giggled a little as you ground your hips down against his boner. “I guess that is why you called me, technically.”

“No! Well, okay not just for that. I mean, I did also think your presence would help cut the frustration by a lot,” he justified. Not that he needed to, you both knew you were just teasing him. He grasped your hips, rolling them himself against his clothed dick. “Think I can make you cum before they get back?”

“You know you can.” You grasped your shirt’s hem, tugging it up and off. “Think you can cum in me before they get back?”

He pulled you forward to capture your lips in a passionate kiss while the two of you undressed each other.

In no time, you and Chan had each other stripped down. He lifted you off his lap, just to turn and lay you out on the couch. The piercings you’d gotten while they were away were proving to be a double edged sword, so to speak. They made already sensitive areas more sensitive, which meant you got off faster. But they made you more sensitive, which meant you got overstimulated faster. But that meant it didn’t take a lot of stimulation to get you soaked.

Still, Chan was one of the thicker of your boyfriends, so he took his time steadily fingering you open, pressing soft kisses to your belly while watching your face as you squirmed on his fingers.

“Channie, please, ‘m ready,” you rolled your hips, doing your best to fuck yourself on his fingers.

“Alright baby girl,” he chuckled at your whimper when he removed his fingers. He made himself comfortable between your thighs, lifting your legs to wrap around his waist, before steadily pushing into you. He gave you a moment to adjust then, when you sighed happily, he quickly started thrusting into you.

He leaned forward, bracing his hands on either side of your head and pressing messy, open mouthed kisses to your jaw and neck. “Feel so good around me, baby girl,” he muttered. “Always so wet and warm. Could stay in you for hours.” You knew that wasn’t an exaggeration, he had before spent the better part of an entire day with his cock buried in you.

He wrapped an arm under your lower back, lifting you slightly as he picked up speed, his hips snapping into you. With the angle he held you at, his cock slid perfectly over your g spot with every thrust.

He continued kissing down your neck and across your chest until he reached one of your nipples. He wrapped his lips around the bud, gently sucking and licking until it pebbled up, then switched sides. You buried one hand in his hair, the other gripping his shoulder as he steadily brought you closer to your orgasm.

“Come on, baby girl. Wanna feel you cum on my cock. Feel you clench around me,” he muttered against your tit before pulling your nipple back into his mouth.

You closed your eyes, surrendering yourself to the pleasure you were feeling. You dug your nails into Chan’s shoulder, tightening your grip on his hair as you felt that coil in your belly tightening. In response, Chan groaned and snapped his hips into you faster, chasing both your orgasms.

He groaned, biting down slightly on your nipple, as he felt you clench around when you came. He followed, filling you with his warmth, just a few thrusts later.

You were relaxing comfortably against Chan’s chest, knees bent and legs open so you were on display, when Changbin and Jisung came back in. “Hey brought a snack for – Bunny!” Bin slammed the door closed behind him when he saw you. “Just all out so anyone can see.”

“Just for you two to see,” Chan corrected. “No one else is coming in here.”

Jisung moaned as he practically fell over the arm of the couch and all but face planted into your pussy. Behind him, Binnie giggled. Your responding giggle was cut off into a moan when Ji buried his tongue in your cunt, lapping up Chan’s and your cum.

You watched over his shoulder as Changbin reached into his laptop bag and pulled out a tube of lube. He then stepped up behind Jisung and tugged off his pants and boxers. You watched as he methodically prepped Jisung, your own hips bucking up in response to the various noises coming from Ji.

“God,” you moaned out. “Luckiest woman alive.” You squirmed in delight at the beaming smiles directed your way. “Sungie,” you whined after a moment, redirecting his attention back to your cunt. It didn’t take long for him to have you coming on his tongue once he refocused.

As soon as you came down from your high, your men rearranged. You were bent over the arm of the couch, kneeling on the cushions. Behind you, Jisung gripped your hips as he slid into you, then held still, whimpering a bit as Changbin slid into him. Chan stepped in front of you, stroking his thumb over your cheek. He waited until Changbin started moving before tapping his cock against your lips, then pushing all the way into your mouth.

“Oh God.” Ji draped himself over your back, both of your bodies rocking with Bin’s thrusts. You relaxed, allowing Chan and Bin’s thrusts in your mouth and Jisung’s ass to rock your body back and forth.

“How does Bunny feel, Ji? She gripping your cock?”

“Feels so good. So warm.”

“Yeah, bet she feels perfect,” Changbin grunted. “Wish you could see yourself though. God, you look perfect. Taking my cock so well.”

You felt Ji’s cock twitch in you and assumed, by Bin’s groan, that he’d clenched his ass around the older man’s cock. You looked up at Chan, watching his face as he fucked yours.

“Look at you both,” Changbin continued. “Both so perfect and so good to us. So happy to be used.” Jisung whined against the back of your neck. “Ji, baby, reach around and play with Bunny’s pretty clit, yeah?”

He did as instructed, though it took a few seconds for him to react. His hand snaked over your hip, quickly finding the sensitive bundle of nerves. Using just his middle finger, he rubbed quick circles against you, moaning when you clenched around him.

You felt shifting above you, then Changbin’s arm between you and Jisung, lifting the younger man off your back. After a few seconds, you heard Ji whine, the rhythm of his finger faltering, as he came inside you with no warning.

Then Changbin let him go and he all but collapsed back on top of you, whining from the overstimulation in your ear, his softening cock still being rocked into you from Bin’s thrusts. It didn’t take long before you too were coming, clenching hard around Jisung’s soft cock and pulling a high pitched whine from his throat.

Chan was next, burying his cock as far in your mouth as you could handle and shooting his load down your throat. You were panting for air when he finally backed off. He crouched in front of you, rubbing a soothing hand over both your and Ji’s hair as Changbin brutally thrust into Ji, chasing his own high.

You felt when Bin came, his hips stilling and Jisung weakly moaning against your neck.

A while later, after you’d all recovered and been cleaned up, Chan drove home. You pulled out your phone and sent a text to the group chat. Chan’s text-to-voice read it out loud through the Bluetooth speaker. On either side of you, Changbin and Jisung moved closer, effectively crushing you in a hug between them. You listened as Chan’s phone read out the others’ responses, feeling warm and content as you locked eyes with Chan through his rearview mirror.

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[vasito-de-leche]

;R1999 Vertin's Wheel, Unilogs, Fate and Summoning Analysis

Analysis and theories regarding the suitcase's wheel, unilogs, fate and the process of summoning characters as of the 2.8 patch.

It's been a while since I've written an analysis in this blog, but yesterday I had a sudden realization and after discussing it with the R99 RP server, I decided to properly expand on these ideas in case someone else is interested or can offer more insight!

Just as a heads up, this post will tackle big spoilers from the upcoming CN 2.8 patch!

As usual, the majority transcripts were taken from the R99 Transcript Neocities and the transcript project!

First of all, we must discuss Vertin's suitcase.

By now, everyone probably knows about the way Bluepoch integrates in-game mechanics, items and such as diegetic aspects of the world building--the most known example being Picrasma Candy, an item used by players to recover energy and keep playing, but also a real medicine within the universe of Reverse: 1999 created by Medicine Pocket to enhance an arcanist's own arcanum for a while.

Vertin's suitcase and everything related to it is no different; in the prologue, we see Vertin save Regulus from the "Storm" by taking her into the suitcase, which acts as some sort of pocket dimension with a living space for her team; the Wilderness is also confirmed to be a real space that people can explore, as we see many times throughout the main story and anecdotes; Ms. NewBabel's critter business within the suitcase is also real, being mentioned on advertisements in one of 2.5 Showdown in Chinatown's trails.

In Stage 6 "The Living Past" of the game's prologue, we get introduced to the suitcase proper. This is the only instance we have of Vertin using an incantation to lead Regulus inside the living quarters and Wilderness proper.

Vertin: … Relax, Regulus. I will tell you, but not here. Say this with me … Neirü milde en tiün bonan nokton. Take my hand. Let me take you into the suitcase.

We also get some descriptions of what's inside these living quarters--the majority are various things that Vertin has rescued from previous eras, the most important being the photos and documents about the people she's met across time. She confirms that her suitcase and anything she puts inside can brave the "Storm," and avoid being reversed--we now know that arcanists of all sorts can also do this, a loading screen from the game added during 1.5 "Revival! The Uluru Games" clarifies by stating that humans can enter, but they need to find a "Storm" immune place outside to avoid being reversed. The suitcase is also affected to a degree by external forces--if one were to shake it, the people inside might feel an earthquake. But this also happens on reverse--the seeds Druvis III plants drops inside grow outside of the suitcase and take over the St. Pavlov Foundation's courtyard.

Then we have the spinning wheel and the lake. These two things are introduced immediately after the prologue, in the chapter "In Our Time," Stage 1 "Wretched Brats." We know that Vertin has never been to this part of the Wilderness that holds the lake and the spinning wheel.

The outside scenery keeps changing and changing … What has remained unchanged for ages is the lake and an old spinning wheel. Regulus: *sobs* ... The records ... Don’t nick my records ... Vertin: ...! Her voice doesn’t sound right. I should go and take a look. This is where Vertin has never been.

The lake is said to be surrounded by a mist that causes everyone except Vertin to slowly fall unconscious, and the water of the lake is explicitly rainwater from the "Storm." The spinning wheel has "strange threads" that Vertin describes as two-dimensional and by following this thread, she summons Sonetto into the suitcase.

The line in her hand, technically the line-like thing in her hand which cannot be felt in any way, has gradually formed a path in her sight. And someone is going to be invited over. Spin it as you've done so many times. It's someone familiar. Sonetto: The lake is overflowing. It's cold, just like a flowing line … Wait, where am I?

During the early months of the game, a lot of us assumed that this scene was simply a way to introduce the gacha mechanic in a diegetic way, without truly having an actual impact on the story. And there is also the issue of explaining how could Vertin acquire members from eras outside of the 20th century, such as Charlie, The Fool, Dikke and Nick Bottom, when the main story never take us to their respective eras.

I want to argue that the former statement is not true; the summoning aspect is real within the universe, and that it explains the latter statement, giving a reason for these people to exist within the suitcase. There is already so much that explains game mechanic as diegetic, in-universe aspects that exist, so I don't see why this would be any different!

In 2.8 "Paradise Regained," we get a lot of information that ties in a lot of loose ends and plots set up by previous chapters; this is the patch that confirms Urd is indeed Vertin's mother.

The scene where they find each other is meant to point out the similarities between the two--the cave Urd is in, where the Manus ritual is taking place, also has the same exact mist as both Vertin's suitcase and Apeiron's cave, and it urges Vertin to remember her childhood in SPDM, namely moments in which she interacted with Urd or somehow remembered her but was never able to recognize her as her own mother. A glowing, golden thread, identical to the one that was used to summon Sonetto in the suitcase, leads Vertin to Urd, who has her very own spinning wheel.

The reveal here and all the references in Urd's own character point to the fact that she is, to some extent, fate itself or a weaver of fate. Her namesake comes from Norse Mythology, referencing one of the Norns, one of the three deities that weave the thread of fate and dictate the lives of mortals--Urðr.

Urd explains that, just like Vertin, only she seems to be able to see and sense these golden threads. And she also explains her purpose and calling. Here is my transcript of the spoken dialogue they have, and you can see it here in Merui's stream.

Urd: I will go with you, but not just yet. There is something I must finish, these threads I'm spinning. Vertin: Threads? Urd: Yes. Others don't seem to see them, but I do. It's strange, I don't know what they are but I know how to spin them. Does that sound ridiculous to you? Vertin: Not at all. In fact, I can see them too. But perhaps we should do it together, later when the danger has subsided. Urd: There may not be a later. I must finish this now. Vertin: Why? Is this worth more than your life? Urd: I believe it is. These threads must be spun so the all ruling law may be woven in. That is my purpose, my calling. That is why I was led here. That's why you're here too, is it not? To answer your calling?

Urd's role as the weaver of fate or existence as fate itself was foreshadowed by 6 at the end of Vereinsamt as well, when he talks to one of her many iterations, Ms. Marta.

Marta: I find myself uncertain of which way to go. Would you kindly give me some guidance? 6: The guidance I can offer you is limited, Ms. Marta. I think fate knows its own fate better than anyone.

Urd is aware of her purpose and calling to uphold the concept of fate itself, even if she may not understand it fully. And thus, we can understand that the golden threads being woven in her spinning wheel are the threads of fate--they led Vertin here, after all.

This patch also confirms that Urd was the reason Manus Vindictae's plans failed back in 1999, during the first "Storm," and how they're now using her as a catalyst to fulfill their plan by sabotaging her process of weaving--her spinning wheel above can be seen tainted with the characteristic Manus Vindictae black goo, and they force it to spin, taking the threads of fate into the well where Arcana's heart rests. Compare it to Vertin's own wheel in the suitcase.

This leads us to the following point: Urd guides upholds order through these golden threads, which represent people's fates and lives. Vertin, as her daughter, has a similar ability in relation to the summoning mechanic in-game, which explains why the banners are presented as the spinning of their threads. For example, the Golden Thread banners.

To follow this, I want to point out the other items involved in summoning! For example, the Unilog rabbits--they can come in Decalogs, which is a set of 10 Unilogs, and they can have different variations for the other unique types of banners (Boon of the Water, Promise of the Water, every Limited character banner, etc). But if you pay close attention, you may see that these rabbits contain a golden thread inside.

[UNILOG] The golden rabbit is a well known myth. It spies on people, steals their time, and sometimes even changes their fates. Though it's old, decrepit, and stale, it is unique and indispensable. [DECALOG] The storyteller never thought that golden rabbits could travel in packs. Nobody knows what this might entails, but no one chooses one single rabbit over more of it. [DECATONE] Now you see them, many, many rabbits. They change their appearance, whispering secrets. And you―you know what to do now, don't you?

The fact that they're seemingly made from the same thread of fate discussed before, along with these descriptions talking about stealing time, changing fates and the implication that the one using them--Vertin--knows what to do now, works to explain the gacha aspect as a diegetic feature.

Then, you have drops as a different type of currency--there are two types, Clear and Crystal. These items are explained as the "Storm" raindrops that didn't fully make it upwards before the "Storm" ended, Clear being the raindrops closer to the ground and Crystal being the ones closest to the clouds, hence why the latter are more valuable.

You may turn Crystal drops into Clear drops, and Clear drops into Unilogs, which draws a parallel between the threads of fate and "Storm" rainwater, leading to my next point: If these threads represent an organized and linear fate, "Storm" rainwater is chaotic fate in disarray.

Throughout the game, there is a lot of emphasis on the importance of water. It holds memories and information, the entirety of people's lives and entire eras, both metaphorically and literally. In 2.5, the one thing that remains of Pei City from 1.6 "Notes on Shuori" is one of Yenisei's vials from the river, which is highly coveted by Laplace to study and understand what could've transpired there. Yenisei's own arcanum revolves around the idea that water holds information, and can serve to return home. As mentioned previously, the mist in the Wilderness lake, Aperion's cave and the heart of Antarctica is special--we've seen it urge Vertin to remember, and in 1.4 "Prisoner of the Cave" that very same mist contains the same elements that are immune to the "Storm," Asymmetrical Nuclide R. And, above all, we know that the "Storm" itself takes entire eras away from the linear path of time.

In 2.8, Ulrich concludes that the "Storm" has always meant to be a flood--in 1999, Urd stopped this ritual somehow, and ever since then, every "Storm" has been a failed attempt at flooding the world through this water that will reverse everything to the past.

During Arcana's revival, she summons this very same flood across the entire globe, raising the water level of the entire planet. And the water has the same or even worse effects to the rainwater from the "Storm," as it causes those who touch it to disappear.

Thus, we understand that water is an important aspect of the story, and that this special water from the "Storm"/Flood holds the totality of history and chaos, being related to concepts such as time and space due to the way the "Storm" functions--it absorbs eras and people into it, taking them out of the linear thread of fate.

Hence why a second important aspect of the summoning batters is water. The First Drop of Rain, Abundance of the Water, Invitation from the Water, etc etc. These pictures were taken from the GL Fandom Wiki!

The way Vertin summons people is by weaving the golden thread and throwing Unilogs into the water, as explained by the in-game mail reminding players to use their Decatones before they expire.

All shall return to the waters, to tranquility. Before leaving, don't forget those special little rabbits of yours. Although they may not be able to embark on the next stage of your journey with you, they're more than prepared to jump into the lake.

So you could equate this to Vertin throwing a literal lifeline info the lake of the Wilderness to save and take people from the chaos of history, stealing their time and altering their fate--and because it's "Storm"/Flood water, it's possible to bypass linear timelines, thus reaching characters from beyond the 20th century like Dikke, Nick Bottom, Charlie and The Fool.

There are other details to support this entire theory that I had no idea where to fit in, so they're going here as an extra round!

The Crystal Drops, canonically a much more valuable currency than Crystal Drops, are the currency used to buy different garments--some of these garments are diegetic, meaning that they do exist within the canon of the world (think of Sonetto's free garments that show up throughout the main story, Regulus pilot garment which makes a cameo in 37's anecdote) but some of them are not (6's detective garment from 2.0, we know he doesn't ever leave the island, Voyager's 1.9 garment, or any of the garments from 1.6 as it's physically impossible for any character from Vertin's team to have visited Pei City)

If we remember that drops are "Storm" rainwater and that Crystal drops were closest to the cloud, therefore stronger in their effect, we could explain these non-diegetic garments as Vertin acquiring a glimpse into different or alternate timelines in which these situations are possible. Which would also explain Diggers as a whole, since he's portrayed as his 1.1 "Theft of the Rimet Cup" self as a playable character while his 1.4 garment is actually the canonical fate he suffers in the main story, having joined Manus Vindictae. The only caveat to this is the Grandfather Clock Paradox explained by X and Regulus, which states that it's impossible for two versions of one person to exist at the same time.

Moving on. Unilogs are represented by rabbits, and I'm pretty sure there is no myth regarding golden rabbits that steal time--but Vertin as a character has been officially related to rabbits, like the latest offline masquerade event, or her themes as the white rabbit from Alice in Wonderland, solidifying her role as the Timekeeper but also someone who also guides others and alters their fate.

Also, Urd, Vertin and Arcana seem to also represent the three Norns of Norse Mythology--as usual, I only had a very surface research reading Wikipedia articles, so if you have more insight on this feel free to correct me. As far as I know, the Norns are tied to three springs or wells scattered in different places, which coincidentally match the three locations in Reverse 1999 that carry the same mist--Vertin's suitcase, Apeiron's cave and the heart of Antarctica, furthering the parallels between these three characters and the concept of fate.

I think that's pretty much everything I wanted to talk about! Thanks to the R99 RP server for hearing me out and fueling my deranged ideas!

[vendetta-if]

Chapter 7 + Ash Hangout Public Update is now live! 🎉

The Chapter 7 and Ash Hangout update is finally here 🔥😁 I'm sorry for the slight delay, I had something urgent to attend to today and I just got home and I just basically went straight to my computer to upload this update.

Finally, we are starting to get into the ROs' first hangout sessions. Of course, to start us off, we'll have Ash's hangout session 😁This update adds around 31K of new words, bringing the total word count so far to around 356,701K words!

Anyway, this update also brings quite a lot of changes in the coding, especially for the skip chapter function, so I'm going to strongly suggest you guys play with clean save, either from the beginning or using the skip chapter function.

I have recently added another skip-chapter checkpoint, which is Chapter 3 in addition to the already existing one on Chapter 6. There is also now an autosave function at the beginning of every chapter starting on Chapter 2, so you'll be able to replay any chapter you're currently reading and try out different options in that chapter.

Anyway, enough of the technicalities.

Here's what you can expect in this update:

The set up to the ROs'  first hangout sessions

Ash's first hangout session

Go down the memory lane and see snippets of MC's most cherished memories.

Some more Viktor 😔

A mix of angst, wholesome, and even potential fluff 🤭

🔥🧡😉

Ash/Rin poly route is not yet ready for this hangout and it's still work-in-progress 🙏

New stuff added to previous chapters:

Added autosave/reload function for Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, and Chapter 5.

Added another skip-chapter point to Chapter 3, in addition to the already existing Chapter 6.

Also, little news that I'm going to make a post of tomorrow, I'm about to open both the Side Story and Spicy Side Story ideas and suggestions for this month on both Patreon and Ko-Fi, so if you're interested in supporting me while also getting some exclusive stuff, please do consider checking out my pages and subscribing 💖

I hope you guys enjoy the update! Oh, and also, feel free to send asks about the new update, but I'll probably hold off on answering them until a few days have passed to make sure a lot of readers already have the chance to check out the update and not accidentally spoil them 😊

[DEMO] | [PATREON] | [KO-FI] | [DISCORD] | [COG FORUM]

[gyuwoncheol]

Vantage Point | Meet the Characters & Series Masterlist

Status: Begins tomorrow (January 20)!

Pair: Mingyu × f.reader

Summary: Pulling off the "No Strings Attached" arrangement with his best-friend-turned-best-friend-with-benefits was easy, but when a new condition is added onto the mix, Mingyu didn't realise just how much he held onto you when you finally let go.

Genre: College au. BFFs to FWB trope. Fluff, Humor, Angst, Smut [chapters with smut will be indicated and will contain the necessary warnings]

Author’s Note: Please take time to read this before starting the series ☺️

Hello, my darlings! Finally getting round to posting this after missing the commited date last time due to covid. But welcome!!! 🥳 This is the first story to my Snap Shoot universe! Before you get into it, let me just point a few things. This is the first time I'm ever creating a universe with interwoven stories, and while I've done SMAUs before, this is the first one I've done for SVT and the first time I'm also this adventurous about it. It's definitely very different from what I post on here but I'm having lots of fun putting it together. I know it goes without saying, but I'll say it anyway, this is very much a work of fiction. This is an AU. While Korea may be the assumed setting for this series, it is not explicitly defined. I'm also trying to avoid using lots of Korean cultural references (maybe except for food) such as use of honorifics like "hyung". While many of my other works refrain from over-describing oc's physical features, you may find that in this series (and universe), oc's features will inevitably be defined. You'll find that the visuals of the characters and the aesthetic of the photos/social media posts will be Korean/ Asian. It's a SMAU, so i'll have to place photos and these photos must maintain consistent. I absolutely do not mean any ill intention of being non-inclusive (I don't even fit the same aesthetic as oc).

Again, it's a work of fiction, while I want you to relate to oc, kindly also allow me breathing space to build the character. If you feel uncomfortable at any point in the series, you are very much welcome to stop/unfollow. As mentioned, this is a SMAU, but it contains several chapters which are purely written narrations. All edits (texts, social media posts, etc.) were done by me, however some photos (esp those of Y/N) are from the web, if they are yours, please let me know so that I may credit you or remove the photo. The texts are all done on light mode. Deal with it. This follows a FWB trope, expect lots of smut and suggestive content— specific smut warnings will be available in chapters where they are present, along with other necessary warnings. This series will have lots of fluff and lots of crackhead nonsense humor. I hope you guys enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it.

Biggest shoutout to my dearest friend @wongyuseokie who has been nothing but supportive through all of this and through all my dramatic Mingy-induced meltdowns. I love you more than you’ll ever know ♥️

Meet the Characters

Mingyu: Sophomore, studying Film & Photography, yn/Camie's best friend since childhood

Yn: Sophomore, studying Film & Photography with Mingyu, Mingyu's best friend since childhood. Nicknamed "Camie" by her group of friends for her highly concerning camera collection/obsession.

Seokmin: Sophomore, studying Film & Photography, same friend group as mingyu and yn, Mingyu & Wonwoo's housemate

Soonyoung: technically a year older than the 3, but currently a Sophomore with Gyu, Cam and Seokmin after shifting into their major

Wonwoo: Junior, studying Film & Photography as well, Mingyu's guy best friend and housemate in The Man Cave, a brotherly figure to OC, Soonyoung's former classmate in highschool

The Man Cave: shared house near their university where Mingyu, Wonwoo and Seokmin live, and Soonyoung often crashes.

✨Other characters/members will come as the series progresses.

Series Masterlist

To be populated as each chapter is posted. There is no posting schedule. Chapters will just get uploaded as they come.

Teaser

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five 🔞

Chapter Six 🔞

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Tag List!

@strawberryya @idyllic-ghost @septemberskies @ladyblablabla

If you want to be tagged as each chapter comes out, do send me an ask or reply to this post so I could include you in the tag list 😊

[cocogum]

The Great Wave - Chapter 18 Review

‼️SPOILERS FOR THE CHAPTER‼️

This might just be Volume 2's longest chapter of them all.

I love how Luis's magic works here. Joris is bringing Amalia and Yugo into an abyss but Luis just magically summons stairs out of nowhere for them.

I love the ingenuity behind it ✨️

But I feel like the creativity only begins here.

Because my god I knew Luis was a big house but I didn't think that he would be able to hide A FREAKING ZAAP PORTAL!!

So you're basically saying that Luis is a storage room and needed an extension? Got it, pookie bear 💕💕

Bro wastes no time to say anything and just jumps into the portal. I thought he was just gonna fetch something for them at first 😭😭

Damn I knew that Yugo's eyebags were obvious before, but we can clearly see it from this angle and the next. Dude, that poison really screwed you up, and you're STILL living from the side effects right after drinking the remedy...Based.

UH- EXCUSE ME I DIDN'T CATCH THAT WHAT!?

BRO'S CALLING HER HIS QUEEN OMG THIS IS REAL, HE'S SO SMITTEN BY HER PLEASE ‼️‼️‼️😭😭😭😭💖💖😭💖😭💖😭💖💖😭💖😭💖😭😭💖😭💖😭💖😭💖 MY HEART ‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️

SKAKDKSLSLSOXJJCJDIDKDKL

LOOK AT THEM HOLDING HANDS!!!

If I had a nickel for every time these two held hands before jumping into a portal, I'd have two nickels. Which isn't a lot, but it's weird that it happened twice.

Also, can we please just address the fact that Yugo's hood in this angle looks a lot like one of his female eliotrope children by the name of Desperia, who appears in Oropo's special episode? She has an eagle (or just bird) theme about herself, and the top of her head looks a lot like how Yugo's cloak looks in that shot.

I know it's not the same at all, but this angle and panel really makes Yugo look like he's wearing something along the lines of what she'd wear.

And I like to think that this was an added detail for that very specific reason. Desperia is a part of who Yugo is, so of course they'd both share some kind of style lol

Anyways, as soon as they follow Joris through the zaap portal, they were met with this....

Wtf is this....

How is it so big????? How much was Luis not capable of storing??? Cuz I almost thought I was looking at a town because of how illuminating it looked. It's so nice and cute but seriously where are they???

Is this like an archive in the underground??? Cuz it sure looks like it. But I bet we're never going to get an answer to that since the location was technically confidential. All we know, however, is that it is in fact in a place since they had to use the zaap portal. So they're somewhere in the World of Twelve either underground or in some kind of abandoned mine due to how dark it looks like since the place is using lights.

And to think that most of these books are shushus too... Who the hell managed to capture them?? JORIS???? Yeah, that seems to check out lol

First of all, can I please just say that I LOVE how despite Amalia is now the Sadida Queen, Joris still calls her by her first name? It just goes to show how much of a friend he sees in her. It's not even because he had met her when she was a kid, or else the guy would've called other young royals, like Armand, by their first names and yet we've never seen that happen. Like ever.

It's such a nice detail and I'm here for it 🩷

Second of all, Joris worked his ASS off to just try to get whatever he can find about the world and gain as much information as he can just to turn this place into some archive library. This guy is freaking 500 years old and it shows. Dear god this place looks awesome but it's still freaky as all hell when you think about how much he tried to find some of the world's lore and ancient manuscripts...The guy must've been working day in and day out like a maniac at some point while Kerubim and Atcham kept dying and coming back.

Dealing with a bag of trauma while trying to defend the world makes archiving manuscripts and scriptures a fun hobby 💀💀

IDOSLDKFKLDDIOFOSWOEPEGUYS SHUT UP THEY'RE BONDING ‼️‼️‼️‼️💖💖💖💖

Tf u mean this is "just" the library.

Just how much was Luis unable to take?

I'm in love with how these are just small precious moments about these two dumbasses who kept following Joris around 🥰🥰🥰🥰

Just Amalia shrieking her head off as Yugo tries to help her with clear worry for her because Joris's ass didn't bother cleaning up a bit ❤️❤️❤️

Even when he was a kid, he and Kerubim always sucked at cleaning.

Looks like they're gonna need another maid.

HAHAHA!!!

...haha.

....

I miss Simone.

Yugo and Amalia trying to avoid some sentient manuscripts while Joris is just chilling.

I know where this is going....

Amalia's gonna want to be last.

I KNEW IT!! I FUCKING KNEW IT!!

YUGO ISN'T EVEN SHOCKED, HE WAS JUST LIKE "Here we go again".

Like @geekgirles said: "They're married, but they're so married."

I keep forgetting how tiny Joris actually is, omg he's so small he can literally fit into any hole and doesn't have to duck or crawl in all fours 💕💕💕 PLEASE HE CLEARLY MADE THAT HOLE WITH JUST HIS SIZE IN MIND, I BET EVEN KERUBIM AND ATCHAM HAD TO CRAWL 😭😭😭

Gurl...What are you staring at.

WTF AM I LOOKING AT⁉️⁉️⁉️

DID SHE JUST GROPE HIM!???!!?? IN FRONT OF JORIS!?!?!?!?

I literally had to cover my mouth for this cuz I was seeing this shit at midnight while everyone was asleep and I didn't wanna squeal too loudly.

PLEASE, SHE JUST SQUEEZED HIS ASS CHEEKS FOR NO REASON WTF 😭😭😭

My god she's such a pervert she literally can't get her hands off of him! Even when they're in situations where there is no tension, she can literally find any reason to grab him.

But then again, what DOES make us think she groped him? hehehehe honestly she's such a girlie for that ❤️❤️❤️ like what if she played with his ass?? His reaction was so sudden, there was no way he had flinched that hard just from feeling her hand on his butt. Like...my girl might have done something else, but who am I to say lol maybe all she did was just grope him and he jumped from the sudden touch 👀👀👀. This just makes me wonder if she'd be the type to peg him tho-

Also *cough* *cough* Amalia is a major hypocrite.

If she WILLINGLY touches Yugo's ass, she gets too giddy and horny for finding an opportunity to do it. But when Yugo ACCIDENTALLY touches Amalia's ass, she gets pissed from the aUdAcItY that she had been caught off guard.

Judging by this, we can tell Amalia loves being the top and I bet that she would rather let people spread mushroom feet rumors about her than admit she could be a bottom lol

We can already notice some details and easter eggs in this panel alone.

If we look at the right, we already see a framed picture of Grougalorasalar's full dragon form.

Right next to the framed picture, there's a golden trophy of what looks to be Khan Karkass. This was probably one of his achievements that Joris managed to have gotten his hands on before it got lost to time.

On the desk, we can see another frame picture, a drawing (from the Dofus movie) which had been made by Joris when he was a kid which depicted his what his parents would have looked like before he knew about his real ones.

We see a certificate or a diploma of some sort on the lower left. Though this might have just been some sort of achievement made by either Joris or someone else entirely.

There is also a hatched egg right next to the table for some reason.

Finally, on the higher left side of the panel, we see a portrait of some woman. I'm not personally sure who she is, but from the looks of her clothes, I'm assuming she might have been a past ruler of some kind. She really strikes me as odd because I've never seen her before. If some people might have recognized her from somewhere, do tell. If not, then I hope that the next chapter reveals to us who she might have been. She really looks like the anomaly in this panel for having no explanation of familiarity around it...

But a funny small theory thatbbegan circling around is that people think she could have been Joris's lover lol

As you've already guessed, yeah. There were mixed feelings about it 😂😂

YUGO'S STILL ANNOYED FROM THE ASS GRABBING LOL

BOY YOU'RE THE ONE WEARING A SPANDEX SUIT 😭😭😭

Anyways, Joris is explaining to Yugo and Amalia the reason behind his age and his looks, and how it all linked to Grougalorasalar.

To us, it had been obvious that it was because of the black dragon, since us intellectual and artistic people have watched the Dofus movie and understood its value and the level of depth and knowledge that it poured onto us 😌😌

But if you haven't watched it then...

Go watch it.

You smartass.

But in all seriousness, hearing his explanation about his origins and his situation, is a nice summary to give to the ones who haven't watched the movie/don't want to see it/or just don't have the time (or means) to.

Joris explaining his parents' infos, meeting, love, and demise all in one day to Yugo and Amalia but not revealing their names 🤡🤡🤡🤡🤡🤡🤡🤡🤡🤡🤡🤡🤡

My guy, all you have to do was sprinkle Julith's name and-

Ah wait nevermind Yugo and Amalia have never been told what her name was. Grougalorasalar just called her "his guardian" in front of them. Not to mention that Joris doesn't seem to have a single picture of her in this small room.

Well this is gonna be awkward when they'll all realize they knew the same woman...

WAIT WTF AM I TALKING ABOUT!?!?

JORIS MENTIONED IN HIS LITTLE EXPLANATION THAT SHE WAS THE GUARDIAN OF THE EBEN DOFUS. If these two just connected the dots, they would both figure out that the woman he's talking about was the same one that was standing next to Grougalorasalar since he had called her his guardian.

They should be able to know that Joris has a connection to her.

So if that's the case....why are they not telling him that this chick is actually alive again??

They look sad or more empathic than anything else. Are they waiting for a good opportunity to reveal it? Or did they still not piece the clues together?? OR ARE THEY JUST NOT TELLING HIM CUZ THEY DON'T WANT TO?!!??

I better hope it's not the latter and that they are just waiting for a good time to properly reveal the news.

*cough* Oropo *cough* Brotherhood *cough* demigods *cough*

Joris takes a silent moment for himself after revealing all of this to Yugo and Amalia.

Let us all take a silent stance for him as well.

Just give him a minute.

Joris sucks it up before he then adds that Grougalorasalar is a sexy daddy with scales an annoying body roommate who keeps causing shit to everyone for shits and giggles.

I find it very helpful that Joris just mildly mentions that the primordial dragons are able to resurrect back after they die, kinda like how the six primordial eliatropes and dragons are able to do. It's subtle, yet nice to know because it confirms to the unsure fans that the primordial dragons of the World of Twelve can in fact die and come back.

[superblysubpar]

<- part six | part eight -> | series masterlist

chapter summary: No more bets.

the song: Read Your Mind by Sabrina Carpenter

also for your listening pleasure: Girl Can't Help It by Journey, Open Your Heart by Madonna, U Got The Look by Prince, and The Lady in Red by Chris de Burgh

5,328 words | please see masterlist for gen warnings / brief descriptions of scars-previous head injury / SPICE/SMUT - really just some dirty talk and a teensiet tiniest start to oral (reader receiving) | my blog is 18+

Hawkins, Indiana - the past

  His hand was in yours, and then it wasn’t. 

  “Well, well, well,” a voice sneered in front of you as you blinked at the boy who just dropped your hand at the sound of it. “What do we have here, Stevie?”

  A group of boys around your age leaned against a falling apart fence just outside of the ride, eyes surveying you up and down, then looking at Steve Harrington standing next to you. The leader of the pack a face full of freckles and a grin that made your stomach unsettled when he pointed it at you and took a step forward.

  “I’m Tommy, and you,” he grinned wider, like if he showed off more teeth, he’d placate you into thinking you enjoyed his company, “Well, you must be new to Hawkins. Think I’d remember a face like yours.”

  “Knock it off Hagan,” Steve grit out of his teeth, a fist clenched at his side. 

  “I’m…I’ll…” you stuttered out at the boy named Tommy, backing away and looking at Steve as you did. “It was…I’ll see you around?”

  You scrambled away from the boys as Steve took a step towards you, but Tommy’s voice rang out, making his head turn. 

  “Does Harrington have a little girlfriend? Gonna share all the juicy details with us, Stevie?” 

  “What? No!” He answered too quickly, cheeks pink, no longer looking at you. “She’s just some stupid girl, I got stuck with her on the ferris wheel…”

  You didn’t stick around to hear more, swiping at your wet cheeks with the back of your hand. 

  Glittery green and gold smeared across it, freshly smudgable after Steve Harrington held your hand until it was over. 

A house on Cornwallis Street - Sunday

  Your hands shifted on the steering wheel, even though the car was in park. Clammy and shaking as you rubbed them on your denim shorts and took a deep breath. With your window rolled down you couldn’t help but smile at the sound of Journey coming from the backyard, the large splash that followed the shout of ‘Don’t you dare Henderson!’. Peals of laughter and the distinct smell of something grilling only added to elements encouraging you to join them. 

  But you were still sitting in your car. 

  You didn’t question it, when after the party last night, Eddie didn’t drive you home, but to the shop, dangling your keys in front of a shocked face as he proclaimed it was finally fixed.

  “But…I didn’t pay you, I thought you couldn’t…” 

  Eddie had waved you off and smiled, “I’ve been working a lot.” He dropped the keys in your lap and grinned wider, “Besides, Harringon’ll be paying me three hundred bucks tomorrow.”

  You looked down at your thighs, thinking about who’s hands had just been pushing them apart a few minutes ago as Eddie quietly probed, “Right?”

“Of course.” You nodded, telling yourself that technically you and Eddie had won the bet.

  Nobody had slept with anyone. 

  Which is what you tell yourself again as you take another deep, bravery seeking breath and step out of your car. 

  Each step on the sidewalk then up the driveway is a little easier, your chest feeling a little lighter as the laughter and music only gets louder.

  But then you see the sign. 

  The same color of the suit you have in your bag.

  The same color he told you he can’t concentrate when you wear it. 

  Bright, bold, outlining four white letters.

  SOLD. 

  You’re still looking at it when the door swings open, Robin greeting you, dripping wet from the pool and a slice of watermelon in her hand.

“Finally! I’m outnumbered, and Max is too busy canoodling with Lucas and I need more girl power!”

  She grabs your arm and pulls you into the Harrington’s foyer as a louder call of, “I told you, as soon as Lucas apologizes for what he did-“

  “And I told you, that I cannot apologize for something if I don’t know what I’m apologizing for!”

  The pair walk out of a room on one side of the foyer as they argue, Max mumbling under her breath as they exit your sights and into the den.

  “You know exactly what you did.”

  Robin rolls her eyes and points up the stairs, “This downstairs bathroom is all packed up and,” she makes quotes with her fingers around the watermelon as she recites, “ ‘It’s cleaned and if any of you idiots fuck it up, you’re dead’ , but there’s one by Steve’s room, change and come help me seek vengeance on the boys!”

  She’s gone as fast as she arrived, the silence of the house now overpowering, but at least it gives you space to take a moment to breathe and collect your thoughts.

  Steve’s moving. 

  Why didn’t he tell you?

  Your fingers glide on the wood banister as you climb the stairs, something sitting heavy in your gut from the more important question that’s gnawing at you.

  Why does it matter that he didn’t? 

  Once you find the bathroom, your fingers tug on red nylon and strings. The suit you rummaged around for in your drawer this morning pointing out the glaringly obvious answer. It matters he didn’t tell you because-

  It was a good suit, that was the only reason why it was picked for today.

  Not because of where you were wearing it.

  Not because of the boy who lived there. 

  Because he definitely still does live there, at least for the time being.

  It’s easy to spot his room when you exit the bathroom, bare feet padding across hard woods as you tug the hem of your white tshirt over your hips a little lower. Worried you shouldn’t be walking around the house so uncovered despite the fact that you’re about to be even more so outside in the pool, when you catch your reflection in the mirror above his dresser. 

  The room is in shambles, half packed you assume. Boxes open, and only half filled, litter the floor, the white plaid wallpapered walls bare, whatever hung on the nails left behind now packed away. Your fingers linger on the top of the dresser, thumb catching on his watch, a Polaroid of him and Robin, the worn brown leather of his wallet. A tight squeeze pulls at something in your chest when the slip of paper with the name ‘Brit’ and a heart shifts beneath it. 

  You can’t help but wonder if he called that number that night like he said he would. 

  Wonder if he took her out to a movie, held her hand, let everyone know that Steve Harrington was on a date with her.

  Your bag drops on his bed that’s unmade with sheets that match the walls as you wonder if she was here too. As you wonder how many other girls have been in this room, this bed. 

  A loud shout outside, just below his window makes you jump, pulling you out of the spiral of doubt you’ve fallen into and down the stairs. 

  The cream carpet is plush beneath your bare feet, the framed photos are gone, the desk as well, so nothing stands between you and the sliding glass doors out to the pool.

  It’s a different view than the last time you were here. The bright turquoise littered with even brighter inflatables and swimsuits. It’s warm, it’s light, it’s loud, as bodies splash in it and compete with the radio playing top hits for the loudest thing. Eddie’s shaking his curls out back and forth all over Robin who’s shrieking and running past him. 

  The thought of stepping outside and arriving late has you turning into the kitchen, searching for something your hands can fiddle with before joining the party. 

  Which is how Steve Harrington’s lungs finally give out, and he dies. 

  He knows he’s not actually dying, but he’s sure that the process has to feel eerily similar to this.

  He rounded the corner to find his fridge door opened, the glow of the interior light silhouetting around your curves hidden under a white shirt making his breath stutter in his chest. And as you bend at the waist, red fabric cut high and only climbing higher, reveals the perfect swell of your ass and his lungs fail to function, like one’s collapsing because he’s been shot, or he’s taking on water and they don’t know to expel the air anymore. 

  “Jesus Christ.”

  It slips out of him much like the yelp the words startle out of you, the shoot up of your body involuntary, causing your head to smack into the top of the fridge and a litany of curses to tumble out of your lips. 

  Steve rushes over as you hold your head and spin, blinking and looking dizzy.

  “Shit, shit, sorry.” He’s across the room in seconds, hands cupping your cheeks and tilting you gently while his eyes focus on your forehead, inspecting. He frowns and moves to the left slightly, towards the sink,  though he leaves one of his hands in contact with your skin. 

  The furrow of his brow deepens as he dampens a towel and you try to breathe out of your nose and in with your mouth so you don’t focus on how his normal smell is stronger with his shirt off and mixed with sunscreen and chlorine that clings to his skin. Skin that shines with a sheen from each, that’s somehow not gross, but tantalizing. So much of that skin on display revealing more freckles than you can fathom counting. Skin that looks more tan from the dark chest hair curled against it or the swim trunks that sit low on his hips. 

  Steve looks at you with raised eyebrows and you realize he’s asked a question and you absolutely didn’t hear it. 

  “Um,” you swallow, your tongue taking up too much room in your mouth, “Wh-what?”

  Steve’s lips twitch as he stands fully in front of you again, damp cloth raised as he whispers, “Something distracting you, honey?”

  Your throat has something stuck in it, and no amount of clearing it seems to fix the problem. You focus on the freckle just to the left of his lips instead of his smug eyes as you admit, “Can’t concentrate when you wear that color.”

  The reward of his low laugh and smile has you wondering if someone hand sculpted his lips and cupid’s bow. 

  “I’ll be sure to wear it every chance I get just to torture you then,” he murmurs while fingers adjust your chin into the light. Your back rests against the center island, legs sandwiched between his spread ones so he can raise the cloth to your skin, apologizing with his eyes as he tacks on, “Only fair, since you woke up and decided evil today.”

  The damp material of his swim trunks sends a shiver up your spine when it hits your thighs, and your hands grab his waist in a wince when the cloth makes contact with your still fairly fresh head wound. You’re in a staring contest with a gold chain around his neck as you fib, “This is the only swimsuit I own. Just happens to be red.”

  Steve finishes with your forehead, but two fingers curl under your chin and lift so you have to look at him as he speaks through a smirk.

  “You’re pretty cute when you lie.”

  “Come on Steve,” you whisper, fingers curling into his hips without thought, “You’re better than cheesy lines and rookie moves like this. Besides, the bet’s over. We can go back to hating each other now.”

  He shakes his head, nose bumping yours as he does and he exhales, “Never hated you.”

  Your swallow is loud as he leans closer, one hand on your hip and fingers playing with the so to speak fire of the strings holding your suit together as you offer, “Despised?”

  Another shake of his head, another step closer so your lower halves are pressed together and your eyelashes are fluttering. Your head falls back with a gasp as his mouth trails along your jaw, hot breath and wet lips against it as you stutter out, “De-detest?”

  He responds into your skin, just below your ear, something that sounds like the word, “Never.”

  His name leaves you breathlessly as his tongue lightly licks down the side of your neck, lips following in a delicate brush. 

  “Steve-”

  He hums into your collar, nose dragging around the curve of it while your hands grip his sides. “Stop saying my name like that honey, or I’m gonna get down on my knees and make you say it much,” he nips at your earlobe, “Much, louder.”

  The space between your legs throbs, thighs push even tighter together at the thought of Steve’s mouth there. 

  “Steve,” you scold, cheeks warm, body even more so in all the places it touches his. 

  “Baby,” he groans, nose knocking your cheek, “What did I just say?”

  He starts to lower himself, hands drifting so too, on the outside of your thighs. Brushing bare skin and aching to push it further, cup your ass and roll your hips against his. Especially when your fingers hold his jaw in place so he has to look at you. Only slightly distracted by how kissable your lips are as they say, “You’re moving.”

  Steve shakes his head no and you laugh again and he wonders how many more times he can make that sound come out of you. 

  “Harrington, there’s literally a sold sign in your front yard.”

  He leans in closer, unable to resist the chance to taste your lips again, to feel their lingering sting against them all day. He’s got this insane thought that he wishes you were wearing lipstick, so it could be smeared against him, marking up his mouth and neck, shit, even his dick, so everyone knows he’s yours, it’s yours.  

  “You worried I’m gonna be too far away?” He somehow manages to ask through the fog of images of your lips surrounding his cock, big eyes blinking at him as you-

  “I’m actually worried it isn’t far enough,” you swallow around the tight feeling in your chest.

  His forehead knocks yours, hands squeeze your waist and then climb higher on your curves as he tsks, “Even cuter. You gotta quit lying baby.” But he relents some of the upperhand, the thought of you being worried about him leaving making him admit, “I’m crashing at Robin’s for a bit. And we’re trying to save up for a place together.”

  “Oh,” you nod, distracted by the way his nose traces the bridge of yours, how his eyelashes flutter and the freckles on his cheeks stand out more from a morning in the sun as he does. “Th-that’s good.”

  “Yeah?” The corner of his lips rising in a smile making them brush yours. 

  “Mhm,” you hum, “So you can take Brit on that date still.”

  “Who?” He blinks, cheeks turning pink as your fingers scrape up his stomach and through his chest hair. 

  “Brit,” your eyebrows raise, “Smells like peaches, and giggles and dots her eyes with hearts? The picture perfect girl to take out around town and proudly hold hands with?”

  “Again,” Steve leans the few centimeters closer, whispering against your lips, “Who?”

  You push at his chest, as much as it pains you to do so, needing the distance from the intoxicating mouth that smells like mint and lemonade. But

Steve remains strong in his position, fingers curl around your ear and hold your neck in place gently as he speaks like each word might spook you into running.

  “I’m staying in Hawkins. I have no idea who you’re talking about. The bet is over. Can you stop being so stubborn and let me kiss you like I’ve been wanting to since we were twelve?”

  Your heart rumbles low and slow, like thunder rolling in, it cracks in your chest like lightening hit it. Every ounce of your body is buzzing, like the strike tore your body in two. One part that can’t believe you’re hearing him say it and another that wants to run even though you know it doesn’t strike the same place twice. The fear of being caught in the storm with no way out has you stalling. 

  “Ask me nicely.”

  Steve laughs, and you wonder how you never noticed how much you like making that sound bubble out of him. 

  Or how much you like the way he licks his lips before he says something important. 

  “Please,” he murmurs against your mouth, “Can I kiss you?”

  Your lips part the same time a shriek calls from the den, “Steve! The food is burning!”

  He curses under his breath, hand grabbing yours as he pulls you through the kitchen and into the den. 

  His frown only grows as the smell of burning food does when the two of you exit the sliding door. He tugs you with him across the warm pavement of the patio, the cool summer breeze has goosebumps arriving on your legs as he shouts at the curly haired boy fanning a smoking grill.

“Henderson! You had one fucking job, man! These aren’t just burning they’re-“

  “Scorched,” Lucas supplies around a cough, smacking the air with his hat. 

  “Torched,” Mike pipes up, squinting and pinching his nose closed.

  “Dead,” El delivers morosely.

  Will snorts and covers his mouth and Max mutters under her breath, “Imbeciles.” 

  But then she’s smiling at you.

  Then they’re all smiling at you, even Eddie and Robin who stand just beyond them, staring at Steve and yours intertwined hands. 

  The attention on it makes your hand feel too heavy in his and you go to slip it out, but Steve only squeezes it tighter, waving his other at them, “Take a picture, it’ll last longer. Now get lost, or I’m not making more and you can eat these disgusting things.”

  The “kids” take off and Steve turns to you, thumb swiping over the back of your hand, cheeks pink and swallowing loudly. “Um, about my really nicely asked question that was rudely-“

  “Yes.”

  The just as interrupted response stuns him as much as it does you. But when he smiles, and takes your cheeks in both of his hands, and leans in slowly, you’re sure the answer was the right one, the storm clouds dissipate, the threat of another crack gone. 

  This kiss, is like rain. 

  The good kind of rain. Slow. Steady. Steve’s lips capture yours sure, calmly, breathing out just as the pair of his mold around your top one. He holds them through an exhale against your cheek as your hands fall to his chest naturally. You can feel the thud of his heart beneath your palm as his mouth parts to do it again, deeper, stronger. Each beat against your skin the rain hitting a window until it’s so natural, so steady, it’s a simple background noise. 

  It’s only when loud whoops and whistles break the calm that you hear yours in your ears and feel his heart again, the calm disrupted. Your cheeks warm beneath his palms as he kisses you again, a chaste and over too quick peck around a smile. 

  That pesky thing is still stuck in your throat, suddenly unsure how limbs and words and human things work anymore. You stumble a step back and trip on a pool noodle when your stomach flutters with a swarm of butterflies intent on trying to escape. He catches your waist before you fall as you gesture to the water, “Alright, well, that pool’s not gonna swim in itself.”

  Steve smiles, but he narrows his eyes, squeezing at the outside of your thighs, “Honey, I thought we were done being mean to each other.”

  Your eyes blink at him, confused, butterflies constructing a roller-coaster in your stomach now as well, as you ask, “How is me swimming being mean?”

  “Kissing me like that then parading around in a little red bikini?” He swallows as his fingers play with the strings of said suit, whispering, “Mean. Incorrigible, baby.”

  This feels surreal, his hands on you, calling you baby while your friends are only a few feet away and absolutely watching. Even more so when you whisper, “Big brain word.”

  Steve taps your chin, lifting it as he asks, “What’s my prize?”

  Looking into Steve’s, Buttercup’s description of Westley’s eyes being like the sea after a storm can’t help but float through your mind. But Steve’s are a lot more like the forest after one. Wet and darkened earth soaking up all it was just given, richer in color and waiting to be explored. 

  “What do you want?” 

  Steve grins, his mouth parts, but then you’re both being drenched with water, two buckets dumped over your heads as you shout in protest against the cold. 

  Robin and Max yell something about the fire in the kitchen being too hot and they needed to put it out as they run away from you both with laughter. 

  You peel off the white shirt that clings to your body now as you mumble something about payback. Steve groans at the reveal of your body in only the suit. It’s easy to look over your shoulder as you walk away from him and ask, “Tell me later?”

  Even easier to shove a grinning Eddie towards the pool as you walk past and mumble, “Shut up.”

  He grips at your shoulder as he flails, pulling you in with him, your double splash drowning out your shriek and the beginning of Madonna’s Open Your Heart booming out of the stereo. 

  When you resurface, swiping water from your eyes and laughing, you turn to find Steve again and aren’t surprised when he’s already looking at you. Your arms rest on the ledge when you swim up to the side and mock his voice, calling up to him.

  “Take a picture, it’ll last longer!”

  He sticks his tongue out at you as you laugh and swim away, but he can’t help but wonder where he packed his Polaroid, and if he can get you alone long enough to snap several his eyes only photos. 

  He’s still thinking it, later, as the sun inches closer to the other side of the sky, and you’re relaxed on a lounger next to Robin. 

Eyes hidden from him behind sunglasses, hands resting on your stomach, brushing back and forth over your skin as you roll your neck. 

  Prince’s U Got The Look fills the now much quieter backyard, the kids all having disappeared under the excuse of getting movie snacks and a video rental from Keith an hour ago. Robin’s voice interrupts the lyrics with, “How much you wanna bet they’re at the arcade and they aren’t coming back with the snacks?”

  You groan and sit up, “No more bets. But,” a sigh leaves you, “Yeah. I’ll go order a pizza? Steve’s got a billion contraband rental’s downstairs too. I’m sure there’s something halfway decent in there.”

  “Ha-ha,” he says dryly, watching you stretch has him sinking lower in the pool so only his eyes show. He squeezes them shut when your top slips just a smidge higher as your arms raise, the curve of each breast peeking out from the bottom and giving him a heart attack. 

  He’s certain that’s exactly what’s happening when he opens them to find you slipping your white shirt on. Only it’s not your white shirt.

  It’s his.

  Steve watches the collar linger on your nose, then slip over your chin as you smile at him and hook your thumb over your shoulder, “I’m - phone…pizza.” Stumbling over your words and shuffling towards the house quickly. 

  He waits exactly sixty seconds before he’s swimming towards the ladder and climbing out. Eddie’s voice taunts from the tube he’s floating in, with his arms behind his head, even with closed eyes he looks smug, “And where are you going?”

  “To…help. With the calling for pizza.” He towels off quickly, Robin snorts and Eddie makes a booing sound. 

  Robin calls from her lounger, “Don’t say we never did anything for you, Dingus!”

  Steve slides the glass door on their snickering, the house quiet and much cooler than the Summer outside. He glances in the kitchen, the hallway, searching for you, when he hears a creak upstairs. 

  He finds you in his room, in his shirt still, sunglasses pushed onto the top of your head as you sift through a bag and pull out a pair of denim shorts.

  “Hi,” he whispers, when you look up at him.

  “Hey,” you smile, voice quiet too, “Why are we whispering?”

  “I-“ he starts quiet and clears his throat, returning to a normal volume, “I don’t know. Guess I thought if I spoke too loud I might wake up from this great dream.”

  The grin spreads on your lips and you shake your head, “Wow. That’s bad, even for you, Steve.”

  He takes a few steps towards you as you continue to shake your head with a smile, only stopping when he asks, “Say my name again? Please?”

  Steve takes the shorts from your hands, dropping them on the ground as you murmur, gently, “Steve.”

  His tongue darts over his bottom lip before he says, “Can I tell you what I want for a prize now?”

  You’re only able to manage a small, “Mhm,” between pressed together lips as your hands sweat and your stomach burns, and your chest constricts while his fingers toy with the strings of your swimsuit bottoms. 

  He kisses you, slowly, licking out over the seam of your lips until you open for him. His hands guide you backwards gently until he’s climbing over your body on his bed and Prince’s voice fades into Chris de Burgh’s. 

  His body presses against yours, weight heavy and making your eyelids flutter as his hand cups your cheek, then traces your shoulder, the curve of your breast down to your hip. Your stomach burns with want, fingers dig into his hair as he releases your lips and kisses your chin, your chest through his shirt. He only travels lower, pushing it up and kissing your stomach, along the seam of your suit. Your legs rise on either side of his head, fingers leaving his hair to curl into his sheets that surround you and fill the space with a cedar and mint haze. 

  “St-steve,” you hiccup as he nips at the inside of your thigh. 

  He moans, palms pressing you open wider, mouth leaving a wet and hot trail of kisses and breaths up each leg. This wasn’t the plan, he wanted to take it slow, but he can’t help it anymore. He speaks into your stomach, kissing your skin between every few words. 

  “Baby, please, can I taste you?” His fingers tug on the strings of your suit and his vision blurs when you make a sound that sounds like a whine and roll your hips, searching. He’s gone fully blind as you tug on his hair again, drunk off of you without a single taste. 

  “Yeah? Gonna let me put my mouth on you?” He noses at your cunt through the suit, dragging it up against the fabric, babbling anything that comes to his mind without a filter. “That what you want, honey? To come all over my tongue?”

  Your palms press to the bed as you sit up, fingers tugging at the mess of brown waves between your thighs when his tongue licks over your suit.

  Your mouth parts in a gasp, eyes fluttering from the barely there friction, the minimal release of the tension you’ve felt since the kitchen downstairs hours ago. 

  Steve looks up at the sound and nearly comes in his shorts, the image of your dazed eyes and pouting lips, the heave of your chest under his shirt having him really thinking about where his camera is again. 

  “Oh,” his voice falls into a teasing lilt, playing with his food before he eats it, “Look at you. You’re already fucked dumb and I haven’t done a thing.”

  Your body is engulfed in flames at the taunting words, somehow turned on and irritated in the same sentence.

  A Steve Harrington special skill, you think. 

  He curses the words almost immediately after they leave him, thinking he’s pushed it too far too fast but then you’re saying his name like that again, saying the word please so softly, so sincerely, his vision goes white and scratchy like the tape of all of his abilities to think clearly was just ejected from his brain. 

  Steve sits up with a groan, backing away from the bed with the shake of his head. 

  “You’re trouble,” he rasps, breathing heavily from across the room, back against his dresser.

  “What’s wrong?” The mood shift jarring and making your legs close, your arms cross over your chest in a hug, wondering what you did.

  “This,” he says then immediately waves his hands, “No, not like that! I-“ he cuts himself off with another groan, a hand swipes through his hair only making it messier. You clench around nothing at the wild hair, the pink cheeks, the dark chest hair and tan skin as he paces.

  “I wanna-“ he starts.

  “Harrington! Quit making out up there and bring down some of what I gave you! I’m tapped and the pizza guy’s here.”

  Steve curses and he spins on his dresser, grabbing his wallet.

  His wallet. 

  Bring down some of what I gave you.

  His shoulders hunch as he swears again, “Those…brats. I swear to god I’m gonna kill them.”

  He spins to find you yanking your shorts on, muttering, “I cannot believe I fucking fell for this.”

  “Fell for…what are you talking about?” Steve steps closer and you back up quickly, waving your hand at him.

  “Save it.” 

  He watches you storm out of the room, confused, and then looks down at the wallet and quickly rushes out after you, “No, no, no, honey it’s not-“

  “Don’t,” you spin on the stairs, voice icy, “Call me honey.”

  Steve takes another step down, pleading with his eyes as Eddie, Robin, and a stranger stand in the foyer, blinking up at the two of you. “Eddie didn’t give me money for that. He…” his hand swipes through his hair again, tongue over his lip as he lowers his voice, “Can we please go somewhere else to talk about this?”

  Your arms cross and Steve sighs.

  “He gave me money…for a different bet. Sort of bet. Bet is a bad word for it.”

  Something rumbles in your chest once more, though no storm was forecasted, you should have known there was bound to be more. 

  Steve’s lips pout as he waves his hand while explaining in a ramble, “After the bet started, I told them how much I actually liked you. And they agreed to help me. And if I got you to actually give me a chance, with their help of course, Eddie’d pay for a real date and Robin would cover our shifts when we went.”

  The explanation should be sweet, but all you can focus on is that Steve didn’t just have the guts to tell you right away. That your friends all helped manipulate you and lied. You start to wonder if the power even went out, if Eddie knew Steve would be at that party, if Robin put In Your Eyes on on purpose, the diner, your car being busted - all of it. 

  What was real between you and Steve, and what was made with movie magic? 

  The storm cracks in your chest, letting the first drops fall down your cheeks. 

  “I have to get out of here.”

  The calls of your name and his steps behind you on the stairs ignored as your vision blurs. 

  Leaving a boy standing in a yard on Cornwallis street while you disappear without your shoes again. 

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[henry-fox-biggest-stan]

Some more obscure and / or underrated lesbian literature : An incomplete list made by a lesbian in hopes of making other sapphics happy

(I haven’t read all of them)

Sorted by years (this rapidly became a history lesson of lesbian literature sorry I’m a nerd)

Ancient times

(A good article about lesbians in ancient greece / rome)

Queen Zhuang Jiang 庄姜 (???- BC 690) / We know about Sappho and Enheduanna, but what about her? She wrote poems some of which were, uh, pretty gay. I learnt about her here. It is said than her poems are in The Book of Songs (which is a collection of ancient Chinese poetry). I couldn’t find a lot about her but I found enough to believe than (hopefully) she was a real person and the internet isn't lying to me.

Dialogues of the courtesans - Lucian of Samosata (somewhere in the second century BC) / Basically Dialogues of the courtesans is a collection of dialogues between well, courtesans (prostitutes). Either between themselves or between clients. One of the dialogues is called “The Lesbians”. Link to read (somehow finding a pdf of Dialogues of the courtesans is pretty hard but reading it chapter by chapter online it’s not??)

The Babyloniaka - Iamblichus (somewhere in the second century AC) / Lost novel, so all you need to know is here

Of course we can’t forget this Pompeii poem

1200s

Bieiris de Romans (somewhere in the first half of the 1200s) / Bieiris was a French poet, and we only have one of her poems with us because the others have been lost. We don’t know much (anything) about her, except that she was a woman, French, and who wrote about a woman called Maria. Some say that this mysterious Maria referred to the Virgin Mary, others than Maria was her gf, and others than she was writing in the perspective of a man (because obviously a woman writing about other women in a not so platonic way is unthinkable). Anyway, feel free to get your own conclusions, here’s the poem (translated)

1500s

The Sword and the Pen: Women, Politics, and Poetry in Sixteenth-Century Siena - Konrad Eisenbichler / So while this is a modern book, it is the only one I’ve been able to find than includes Laudomia Forteguerri’s poems (1515-1555). Some historians considered her to be the earliest Italian lesbian writer. “Although only six of her sonnets have survived, all are testaments to the love she bore for other women, and five are specifically dedicated to Margaret of Austria.”

The Maitland Quarto / Manuscript (1586) / So, this is a collection of 95 scot poems, and poem 49 is pretty sapphic. It’s technically anonymous, but it has been attributed to Marie Maitland (who transcripted the manuscript and is thought to have added her own poems there). The last lines mean “'There is more constancy in our sex / Than ever among men has been”, I haven’t been able to translate the rest of it. The poem.

Galatea - John Lyly (1592) / “Galatea (or Gallathea) and Phillida who are dressed up in male clothes by their fathers so that they can avoid the requirement of the god Neptune that every year "the fairest and chastest virgin in all the country" be sacrificed to a sea-monster. Hiding together in the forest, the two maidens fall in love, each supposing the other to be a young man.”

1600s

The Flower's Shadow Behind the Curtain - Ko Lien Hua Ying (somewhere in the 1600s) / It is said this book was written towards the end of the Ming dynasty (1368 to 1644). It’s a erotic book, and chapter 22 includes an erotic story between two 16 year old girls. I found it in Sex in China: Studies in Sexology in Chinese Culture by Fang Fu Ruan (believe it or not, I don’t just randomly know all this books, I did research)

Aphra Behn (1640-1689) / English writer, one of the first female writers to live through her writing. She was also a spy. She wrote a lot about women. “Homoeroticism is standard in Behn's verse, either in descriptions such as these of male to male relationships or in depictions of her own attractions to women. Behn was married and widowed early, and as a mature woman her primary publicly acknowledged relationship was with a gay male, John Hoyle, himself the subject of much scandal.” (here). She wrote a lesbian love poem (in the link before, it also makes an analysis of it). The poem: To The Fair Clarinda

Poems, Protest, and a Dream: Selected Writings - Juana Inés De la Cruz (1648-1695) / So the thing about Juana is than every single spanish-speaking lesbian knows her (and loves her), but hardly anyone who doesn’t speak spanish has ever heard of her, which is a shame, because she’s an absolute icon. She was a Mexican nun who was also incredibly gay. You know how Sappho is called the tenth muse? Juana is also called the (mexican) tenth muse. She’s also called the phoenix of America, which is incredibly badass. She learnt how to read at 3 years old, at 8, she asked her mother to send her to college dressed as a man (her mother refused). She learnt and studied by her own, because she wanted to learn. She studied by cutting her hair (if she got something wrong or forgot something, she cut a strand of her hair as a punishment) because she said that “a head adorned with hair is worthless if it’s a head naked of ideas”. When she was sixteen (important to note than she already spoke Latin fluently at 12, having mastered it in just a few lessons) the archbishop Payo Enríquez de Rivera heard of her, and decided to ask her to be the company lady of his wife (his wife and her eventually would have a relationship) and decided to test her intelligence. He got 40 (!!!) university profesor of all subjects, and they all asked her questions related to maths, literature, philosophy, etc. She answered all of them right. At around 21, she decided to become a nun (not out of faith, but because it was either becoming a nun and being able to continue her education, or marrying a man and stop studying. To her, the choice was clear). Also it is said she owned around 4000 books in her personal library. So yeah, an educated, extremely intelligent gal, who wrote lesbian love poems to her gf, and who was definitely not afraid to stand up for herself.

1700s

The Game of Flats - Nicholas Rowe? (1715) / Poem, “game of flats” was an 18th century slang for lesbian sex. Link to read <- that website includes lots of 18th century queer history and poems like this one

The Sappho-an - Anonymous (1735 or 1749) / When I first heard of this I couldn’t believe it. It sounds like an AO3 fanfic, or some modern erotic book (one of those than have a real person in the cover), or maybe a forgotten 1970s lesbian book. It’s none of that. It’s an anonymous poem written in the 1700s. The plot? The goddesses of Olympus are sexually unsatisfied because the gods keep on going after mortals (except Ares, he’s just too busy with war) instead of paying attention to them. The gods keep going after woman and male mortals, so Hera just says yknow what if they can sleep with men then we can sleep with each other. Sappho also appears. Link to read.

Fanny Hill, Memoirs of a Woman of Pleasure - John Cleland (1742) / Ok fine, this one is not sapphic but the main character (female) does have sex with a woman at one point. This is basically an erotic novel. Very dirty (specially for the time period) and very banned in lots of places. The main character is Fanny, a prostitute. It includes lots of straight sex, some gay (mlm) sex, and two pages where Fanny describes in detail having sex with Phoebe, bisexual prostitute. Not sapphic, but thought it was worth mentioning.

1810s

Christabel - Samuel Taylor Coleridge (1816) / So, have you heard of Carmilla (1872)? If you’re reading this post, you probably have, if you haven’t, it’s a classic (vampire) book than is said to have inspired Bram Stoker to write Dracula. It’s also incredibly gay. Well, some say it was Christabel than was the inspiration for Carmilla. Of course we don’t know this for sure, but the similarities definitely are there. Review from a reader: “what if we were the protagonist and villain of a never-completed sensual gothic poem (and we were both girls) / alternately: when you meet a wickedhot girl only she's SPOOKY but that's SEXY and turns out your dad and her dad were also gay back in the day before having a sexy gay falling-out and she's like 'babe let's get naked and hold each other close' and you're like '—wait fuck I mean uhhhh I PRETEND I DO NOT SEE IT!'” I haven’t read this one, however for what it seems Christabel is not explicitly a vampire. Since the poem is unfinished we don’t know the end, and we just think she’s a vampire because so many things used in here were also reused for vampires characterization (like not being able to enter a house unless invited)

1830s

Mademoiselle de Maupin - Théophile Gautier (1835) / “A woman uses her incredible beauty to captivate both d'Albert, a young poet, and disguised as a man, his mistress, Rosette. In this shocking tale of sexual deception, Gautier draws readers into the bedrooms and boudoirs of a French château in a compelling exploration of desire and sexual intrigue, and gives voice to a longing which is larger in scope, namely, the wish for completeness in oneself.”

1840s

Netochka Nezvanova - Fyodor Dostoyevsky (1849) / Incomplete because the author was exiled. Tells the story of Netochka Nezvanova, her childhood and adolescence, and the many many bad things that happen to her. She falls in love with a girl as well.

1870s

Mademoiselle Giraud, My Wife - Adolphe Belot (1870) / “The sensational Mademoiselle Giraud, My Wife tells of the suffering of a naive young man whose new bride will not agree to consummate the marriage. Eventually he learns from an acquaintance, to his amazement, that their wives are lovers.” In reviews it says than this is a homophobic novel (who’s surprised) but “Christopher Rivers argues in his introduction that the protagonist's homophobic attitude toward lesbianism is ironically linked to his intimate homosocial bonds with men”

1880s

Jill - Amy Dillwyn (1884) / “Jill is the story of an unconventional heroine—a gentlewoman who disguises herself as a maid and runs away to London in search of adventure after her mother dies and her father is pursued by a Victorian gold-digger. Once in London she uses her position as lady's maid to become close to her mistress. Her life above and below stairs is portrayed with irreverent wit in this fast-paced story, but at the centre of the novel is Jill's unfolding love for the woman she works for. On the surface a feminist manifesto, Jill is a poignant story of same-sex desire and unrequited love. A new introduction tells the autobiographical story on which the novel is based —the author's own passionate attachment to a woman she called her wife, but who she couldn't have.”

Mephistophela - Catulle Mendès (1889) / “Telling the story of Baronne Sophor d'Hermelinge, a woman as thoroughly martyrized by her creator as any other heroine in the history of fiction, in spite of the enormous competition for that title established by countless writers, male and female, it is one of the archetypal novels of the Decadent Movement, and one of the most striking, precisely because is it such a discomfiting piece of writing, the deliberately controversial nature of which has been further enhanced as its surrounding social context has changed over time. Highly influential, especially on the works of such writers as Jean Lorrain and Renée Vivien, Mephistophela, in placing lesbian amour in the foreground of the story, deals forthrightly and intensively with a literary theme that had previously only been treated with delicacy and indecision, mostly in poetry. It is essentially a horror story about demonic possession, about contrived and cruel damnation, devoid even of a Faustian pact, which merely employs obsessive lesbian desire as an instrument of damnation.” Goodreads review: “As a story it is quite straightforward. Girl has same-sex desires and the novel follows her various affairs up to about the age of thirty. […] More controversially, Stableford (and the books blurb) suggests that it is a novel of demonic possession. Now Brian has probably forgotten more than I will ever learn about the period but a few of the episodes show distinct Charcotian traits (an early childhood 'illness', two doctors in conversation etc) and a (really great) fantasy/visionary episode in the book seems to show, to me, the influence of Michelets book on witchcraft. If anything, the book seems even more subversive that Stableford suggests, as Sophie seems largely 'out and proud' and the author often says that she is 'is as she is' suggesting to me that it is 'natural' rather than demonic. I wonder whether the publisher asked Mendes to add some suggestion of the demonic to 'tone down' the idea that people were actually like 'that'.”

1890s

Avant la nuit / Before the dark - Marcel Proust (1893) / Short story (seriously, less than 10 pages). I read it the other day before bed and it’s pretty good. Talks about Françoise, a woman, revealing her homosexuality to her friend Leslie.

A Sunless Heart - Edith Johnstone (1894) / “Its first third focuses on Gasparine O'Neill, who shares an intense connection with her sickly twin brother, Gaspar. Living in poverty, the two struggle to live decently until Gaspar dies. Here gritty naturalism gives way to fantasy, as Gasparine is rescued from despair by the brilliant Lotus Grace, a much-admired teacher at the local Ladies' College. Sexually exploited from the age of twelve by her sister's fiancé, Lotus cannot love anyone, not even her illegitimate child. Gasparine devotes herself to Lotus, but Lotus finds her final brief happiness with a woman student, Mona Lefcadio, a passionate Trinidadian heiress. Exploring issues of race, sexuality, and class in compelling prose, A Sunless Heart is a startling re-discovery from the late- Victorian era. The appendices to this Broadview edition provide contemporary documents that illuminate the tension between romantic friendship and lesbian consciousness in the novel and address other debates in which the novel the nature of Creole identity, the education of women, and the dangers of childhood sexual exploitation.”

The Songs of Bilitis - Pierre Louÿs (1894) / Poetry. However, believe it or not, these were not written by a woman but by a man. Why add it then, well, the story is quite original. The author (Pierre Louÿs) published this verses as written in Ancient Greece by a “disciple of sappho” named Bilitis. He created this whole character, she was a woman, she was a poet, she was a sappho disciple, her work has been lost until now, and she was a huge lesbian. Of course, this is not true, but still, it’s an interesting read. “Between their open celebration of lesbian love and the eventual revelation of their true authorship—the verses actually were written by French novelist and poet Pierre Louÿs—they became a succès de scandale. Although debunked as a work of antiquity, The Songs of Bilitis remains a classic of erotic literature.”

1900s

A Woman's Affair - Liane de Pougy (1901) / "Despite her beauty and her riches, Annhine de Lys, one of the most notorious courtesans of 1890s Paris, is bored and restless. Into her life bursts Flossie, a young American woman, and everything changes. The love she offers Annhine is dangerous, perverse and hard to resist. Ignoring the warnings of her best friend, Annhine encourages the affair."

I Await the Devil's Coming - Mary MacLane (1902) / “Mary MacLane's I Await the Devil's Coming is a shocking, brave and intelectually challenging diary of a 19-year-old girl living in Butte, Montana in 1902. Written in potent, raw prose that propelled the author to celebrity upon publication, the book has become almost completely forgotten. In the early 20th century, MacLane's name was synonymous with sexuality; she is widely hailed as being one of the earliest American feminist authors, and critics at the time praised her work for its daringly open and confesional style. In its first month of publication, the book sold 100,000 copies--a remarkable number for a debut author, and one that illustrates MacLane's broad appeal.” She’s pretty sapphic and claims her (female) lit teacher is her true love. Also an excerpt from a Goodreads review: “She awaits the Devil to come and marry her and bring happiness if only for three days, meanwhile rehearsing suicide. She prays to the Devil to deliver her from “unripe bananas; from bathless people; from a waist-line that slopes up in the front" but offers sensuous instructions on how to eat an olive, and enjoys porterhouse steaks and fudge she makes with brown sugar. It's quite a ride. Many recent reviewers pigeonhole her as an ahead-of-her-time Goth or emo, simply transcribing an eternal and universal teen angst.”

Q.E.D. - Gertrude Stein (1903) - Autobiographical short story about a love triangle between three women; Adele (Stein), Mabel, manipulative and wealthy, and Helen, who seduces Adele.

A Woman Appeared To Me - Renée Vivien (1904) / I have no idea how to explain this book other than it's all I ever wanted and it has an absolutely breathtaking prose. Think of The Picture of Dorian Gray, Oscar Wilde’s writing style and descriptions, the character's philosophy, and the queer toxic relationships in the book. Now make it lesbian and even more explicitly queer. Also I'm pretty sure the main characters want to fuck Sappho. On the second chapter the main characters + some side characters (all women + one guy) are having a discussion (a symposium of sorts) about how much they love sappho and how believing she married a man is stupid and how they don’t hate men, just really dislike them, and the guy says: "Mademoiselle, you are trying to hide from the irresistible seduction of the male. You will certainly finish your love-life in the arms of a man." And our main character being an icon finished the chapter answering him this: "That would be a crime against nature, sir. I have too much respect for our friend to believe her capable of an abnormal passion!". It’s so good. I have seen mixed opinions on this one, but I’m just gonna say: the girls than get it, get it. Everything by Renée Vivien is so good, but this is her only full novel I think (she also wrote poems and short stories). If you have to read only one book out of all the books in this post, let it be this one.

Zezé - Ángeles Vicente (1909) / Not translated (I think) but it’s the first lesbian novel written in Spanish which is pretty cool (even cooler than it was written by a woman who, in 1909 (or around it) divorced her husband and lived through her writing). The plot is basically, the narrator (the author) is on a ship and shares the cabin where she’s staying with another woman, Zezé, a cuplé singer, who tells her about her life (her childhood in a religious school, where she discovered her sexuality with had a relationship with another (female) student, her life in Madrid as an adult and living life as a woman, etc)

1910s

Despised & Rejected - Rose Allatini (1918) / A gay man and a lesbian are friends during WWI, which they are against (an anti-war novel). I think the book is in the perspective of the gay man, but his friend is also a main character.

The Scorpion - Anna Elisabet Weirauch (1919) / A review by a reader: “This book felt more like historical fiction than a novel actually written in 1919-1932, considering the explicitly lesbian relationships and coming of age and coming out style narrative. The story follows the life of Metta, a lesbian who grew up with a controlling family in Berlin. The narrative follows her from her first crush on her manipulative governess, to her first love the older and intelectual Olga, and her foray into the gay scene in Munich and beyond. The story isn't without suffering and it isn't just a love story despite how much you might want it to be. Definite trigger warnings for suicide (not Metta), poor mental health, homophobia and general cringe comments due to the time of writing. But the point of the book is for Metta to find a way to be, a way to live her life comfortably and happily, essentially to find herself.”

1920s

The Bacheloress - Victor Marqueritte (1922) / “Monique is an emancipated French woman who leaves home to escape a marriage of convenience to a man whom her parents have forced on her. She then succumbs to all sorts of carnal temptations including a lesbian love affair with a singer. The scandal provoked by Victor Margueritte's La Garçonne, here translated as The Bacheloress, led to its author having his legion d'honneur revoked, which only propelled this novel about a brazenly independent "new woman" to best-seller status. What was shocking then was not so much the reckless behavior of its heroine, who is depicted as the victim of psychological torment, but the portrait of the corrupt post-WWI society in which she lives. Authentic as Monique is, the types of love she encounters, set against the hostile and contemptuous portrayal of her peers, only amplifies her struggle.”

Yellow Rose - Nobuko Yoshiva (1923) / This is the only book than has been translated by this author, she was a lesbian who wrote Class-S romance (a Japanese book genre of the time, which focused on lesbian / homoerotic relationships between women [so-called romantic friendships], than usually take place in an all-girls boarding school). This specific story talks about a teacher-student relationship. She has other books, one called Yaneura no nishojo (two virgins in the attic) (1919) which isn’t translated, but sounds good, the story “is thought to be semi-autobiographical, and describes a female-female love experience with her dormmate. In the last scene, the two girls decide to live together as a couple. This work, in attacking male-oriented society, and showing two women as a couple after they have finished secondary education presents a strong feminist attitude, and also reveals Yoshiya's own lesbian sexual orientation”.

Freundinnen: ein Roman unter Frauen / Girlfriends: a Novel among Women - Maximiliane Ackers (1923) / Only in German, not translated. Review from an English reader: “This novel—which went through several editions in the 20s before being banned by the Nazis—is uncompromisingly, heartbreakingly queer. The novel tells the story of the love between two actresses in Wiemar Germany, Ruth and Erika. Both women struggle to support themselves on the stage, to live independently, and to come to terms with their love for each other and how they might live and express themselves and their desire.”

Surplus - Sylvia Stevenson (1924) / Review from a reader: “This book should be included in lists of seminal lesbian fiction. Published in 1924, Surplus is the story of Sally Wraith's young adult adventures after the end of WWI, during which period she served as an ambulance driver. The novel is not explicit and dos not detail a physical relationship between Sally and her romantic friend Averil but Sally refers to Averil as her "dream girl" with whom she wants to spend the rest of her life. This novel was published before Radclyffe Hall's Well of Loneliness , which is often hailed for its early negative portrayal of homophobia. But I find it compelling that Sally's love for Averil is not treated as deviant. It's just tragic for any babydyke to fall in love with a straight girl!”

The Captive - Eduard Bourdet (1926) / Theatre, “Irène is a lesbian tortured by her love for Madame d'Aiguines, but pretending engagement to Jacques (man). Though Irène attempts to leave Madame d'Aiguines and marry Jacques, she returns to the relationship, saying that it is "a prison to which I must return captive, despite myself". Madame d'Aiguines is not seen in the play, but leaves behind nosegays of violets for Irène, as a symbol of her love.” Read here

Women Lovers, or The Third Woman - Natalie Clifford Barney (1926) / “This long-lost novel recounts a passionate triangle of love and loss among three of the most daring women of belle époque Paris. In this barely disguised roman à clef, the legendary American heiress, writer, and arts patron Natalie Clifford Barney, the dashing Italian baroness Mimi Franchetti, and the beautiful French courtesan Liane de Pougy share erotic liaisons that break all taboos and end in devastation as one unexpectedly becomes the "third woman."

HERmione - H.D (1927) / “This autobiographical novel, an interior self-portrait of the poet H. D. (1886-1961) is what can best be described as a find, “a posthumous treasure”. In writing HERmione, H.D. returned to a year in her life that was peculiarly blighted. She was in her early twenties—a disappointment to her father, an odd duckling to her mother, an importunate, overgrown, unincarnated entity that had no place... Waves to fight against, to fight against alone... “I am Hermione Gart, a failure” —she cried in her dementia, “I am Her, Her, Her.” She had failed at Bryn Mawr, she felt hemmed in by her family, she did not yet know what she was going to do with her life. The return from Europe of the wild-haired George Lowndes (Ezra Pound) expanded her horizons but threatened her sense of self. An intense new friendship with Fayne Rabb (Frances Josepha Gregg), an odd girl who was, if not lesbian, then certainly of bisexual bent, brought an atmosphere that made her hold on everyday reality more tenuous. This stormy course led to mental breakdown, then to a turning point and a new beginning as her own true self, as Her"

Lucia Sánchez Saornil (1895 - 1970) / Spanish poet, putting her here because she’s part of generation ‘27. Read her Wikipedia page because she’s literally iconic (I can’t put the link here for some reason). I love her so much. She was an anarchist and very revolutionary. She wrote under a pen name to be able to explicitly write about women and lived with her partner (América Barroso) until she died. I haven’t been able to find an English translation of her writing, but I do have found a French one, so better than nothing

Dusty Answer - Rosamond Lehmann (1927) / Coming of age story of Judith Earle, sensitive, lonely, who grew up as an only child, but with 4 neighbors (all cousins) to make her company (and eventually harbor romantic feelings for). Then she moves to college, where she meets Jennifer and enters a relationship with her. Although the relationship is not explicitly romantic.

Ladies Almanack - Djuna Barnes (1928) / “Written as a medieval calendar, Ladies Almanack is a clever parody of the crazy sapphic circle of Natalie Barney and her Académie des Femmes. Sharp, biting, witty and transgressive, it is also a modern and pioneer in his vision of lesbianism and the issues surrounding relationships between women. The emotional endogamy, transvestism, motherhood, marriage or differences between sex and gender are already presented in the book with a charge of irony and acidity that is rare in the treatment of the topic. And it is also a breath of fresh air, an essential reference to know the world of lesbian women in all its breadth and diversity.”

1930s

The Angel and the Perverts - Lucie Delarue-Mardrus (around 1930) / "Set in the lesbian and gay circles of Paris in the 1920s, The Angel and the Perverts tells the story of a hermaphrodite born to upper class parents in Normandy and ignorant of his/her physical difference. As an adult, s/he lives a double life as Marion/Mario, passing undetected as a lesbian in the literary salons of the times, and as a gay man in the cocaine dens made famous by Colette." Technically not lesbian, but it’s “set in the lesbian cercles of Paris”

Broderie Anglaise - Violet Trefusis (1935) / Technically not a lesbian novel, but by a sapphic author. Do you know about Virginia Woolf and Vita Sackville-West? Of course you do, everyone does. However, do you know than Violet Trefusis used to be Vita’s lover? They dated as teens and again as adults. There’s this whole gay toxic romantic circle between Violet, Vita, and Virginia. Violet wrote this book where she’s basically adding Vita, Virginia, and herself into the characters and dissing them. The plot centers on an encounter between Alexa, a celebrated English writer (Virginia), and her rival, Anne (Violet), and their discussion about their mutual lover, Lord Shorne (Vita).

Summer Will Show - Sylvia Townsend Warner (1936) / Sophia Willoughby's husband has a mistress who he cheats on her with. So she grabs him and packs him up to Paris with his mistress. She'll raise their children and he can have his mistress all day long if he wants, what she wants is to not see him. Sadly, her children die, and she goes to Paris, where she'll find her husband's mistress, and the two of them start an affair with eachother.

Diana: A Strange Autobiography - Diana Frederics (1939) / “«This is the unusual and compelling story of Diana, a tantalizingly beautiful woman who sought love in the strange by-paths of Lesbos. Fearless and outspoken, it dares to reveal that hidden world where perfumed caresses and half-whispered endearments constitute the forbidden fruits in a Garden of Eden where men are never accepted». This is how A Strange Autobiography was described when it was published in paperback in 1952. The original 1939 hardcover edition carried with it a Publisher's This is the autobiography of a woman who tried to be normal. In the book, Diana is presented as the unexceptional daughter of an unexceptional plutocratic family. During adolescence, she finds herself drawn with mysterious intensity to a girl friend. The narrative follows Diana's progress through college; a trial marriage that proves she is incapable of heterosexuality; intelectual and sexual education in Europe; and a series of lesbian relationships culminating in a final tormented triangular struggle with two other women for the individual salvation to be found in a happy couple.”

1940s

Nada - Carmen Laforet (1945) / ok fine, technically not explicitly lesbian, but the author is sapphic and the main character is such a lesbian. Set in post-civil war spain, Andrea, an 18 year old girl who just moved to Barcelona from her small town is starting university (studying literature). She lives with her mom’s side of the family that lives in the city, in a gothic horror-esque house that shows the decay of the family. Including great tragedy-filled characters and incredible prose, I enjoyed every single second of this. The title literally translates to “nothing” (there do is an English translation, it simply kept the og title). Andrea is an observer, a girl who feels so incredibly real, filled with dreams and doubts and love and loneliness. She becomes best friends with a girl from her class named Eda who she definitely has a crush on. She doesn’t date any man, is more, shows aversion to the idea, and there’s a moment in the book where she wishes she was “able to fall in love with him”. I mean c’mon. I loved every second of this it’s SO good please read it I beg you.

Hidden Path - Elena Fortún (somewhere around the 1940s) / Maria Luisa grows up on 1910s/1920s Spain. She is a peculiar girl, one who despises wearing dresses and wants to dress as a sailor, who could spend all day reading, who loves painting, and who swears she will never marry. Oh, and she's also a lesbian. Based on the author's life Maria Luisa is kind of the author's alter ego, and it follows her from childhood to adulthood while dealing with a world not created with people like her in mind. (Not published until 2016)

El Pensionado de Santa Casilda / The Boarding School of Saint Casilda - Elena Fortún (somewhere around the 1940s) / This book is not translated, but if you know spanish I recommend to pick it up. A group of 14/15 year old girls who go to the same spanish all-girls boarding school, and they are all in love with each other. It follows them into adulthood and how they navigate their lives being women and lesbians in the past (Not published until 2022). Messy lesbians at its finest. Like, seriously. Lesbians still in love with their ex and not over their first love, dating their friends and their ex friend, and the ex of their friend, and having sugar mommies, etc etc

1960s

Winter Love - Han Suyin (1962) / “As a college student in London during the bitterly cold winter of 1944, Red falls in love with her married classmate Mara. Their affair unleashes a physical passion, a jealousy, and a sense of self-doubt that sweep all her previous experiences aside and will leave her changed forever. Set against the rubble of the bombed city, in a time of gray austerity and deprivation, Winter Love recalls a life at its most vivid.”

The Chinese Garden - Rosemary Manning (1962) / “A "very intelligent, sensitive, and compelling" novel of adolescent rebellion and sexual awakening at a girls' boarding school (Anthony Burgess). Set in a repressive British girls' boarding school in the late 1920s—where not only sexuality but femininity is squashed—the novel is the coming-of-age story of sixteen-year-old Rachel, a sensitive, bright, and innocent student. Rachel finds refuge from the Spartan conditions, strict regime, fierce discipline, and formidable headmistress at Bampfield in a secret garden. She also finds friendship there, with a rebellious girl named Margaret. As Margaret has her mind expanded by a scandalous tome entitled The Well of Loneliness, she engages in a bold, forbidden act—the ultimate transgression at Bampfield—and Rachel is drawn into the turmoil. Confronted with the persecution of her friend and troubled by a growing awareness of her own sensuality, Rachel faces an imposible choice that drives her to desperate measures.”

The Microcosm - Maureen Duffy (1966) / “At the House of Shades, Matt, a bar-room philosopher, tries to make sense of the disparate lives which cross here -- of Judy who saves herself and her finery for a Saturday night lover, of Steve the gym teacher who dreads a chance encounter with a pupil in this twilight environment, and of Matt herself, who needs these vicarious exchanges despite the security of her relationship with Rae and her sense that this lesbian sanctuary is a prison too, enforcing the guilt and estrangement of the city streets beyond. Elsewhere there are women such as Marie, trapped within an unwanted marriage and unable to admit her sexuality, and Cathy, for whom the discovery that she is not 'the only one in the world' is an affirmation of her existence. With its innovative structure and style, perfectly mirroring the voices and experiences of women forced by society to live on the margins, The Microcosm remains as powerful today as when originally published in 1966.”

A Place For Us / Patience & Sarah - Isabel Miller (1969) / First named A Place For Us, then changed to Patience & Sarah. Not necessarily obscure, but no one ever talks about it. Based on a real life story, “In the early nineteenth century, in a puritanical New England town, two women fall in love. With no one to guide or support them, Patience and Sarah try to follow their hearts. Defying society and history, they buy a farm and discover they can live together, away from the world that had sought to limit them and their love…”

1970s

Beginning with O - Olga Broumas (1977) / A poetry collection by a lesbian, greek writer.

The Same Sea as Every Summer - Esther Tusquets (1978) / A stream-of-consciousness type book, by an author who has been compared to Virginia Woolf. “Poetic and erotic, El mismo mar de todos los veranos ( The Same Sea As Every Summer ) was originally published in Spain in 1978, three years after the death of Franco and in the same year that government censorship was abolished. But even in a new era that fostered more liberal attitudes toward divorce, homosexuality, and women's rights, this novel by Esther Tusquets was controversial. Its feminine view of sexuality (in particular, its depiction of a lesbian relationship) was unprecedented in Spanish fiction. The disillusioned narrator of The Same Sea As Every Summer is a middle-aged woman whose unhappy life prompts a journey into she past to rediscover a more authentic self. However, events force her to realize that love or trust will inevitably be repaid by betrayal. This pattern assumes various forms in a story that moves forward as well as backward, playing out in Barcelona among the haute bourgeoisie. Richly textured with allusion, The Same Sea As Every Summer is also a commentary on post-Civil War Spanish society by an author who grew up during the repressive Franco regime.”

Así es: Mi vida 3 - Victorina Durán (somewhere in the late 1970s) / So, not translated but has great historical value. Basically, this is the third book out of Victorina’s memories that she wrote in the 70s. Victorina (1899 - 1993) was so cool. She was an icon. She was a sceneographer, a painter, a costume designer, writer (aside from her memories, she has some theatre plays), etc. She actually wanted to be an actress. She was part of the Círculo Sáfico de Madrid (the sapphic club of Madrid, a club made out of her and her friends, who were sapphic) among others. She never hid her sexuality. She was friends with almost all the importante well known people in 1920s / 1930s Spain. This book is the third one out of her memories, and it’s focused explicitly on her relationships (all with women). She said she wanted to focus on them and give them a book of their own, so this is of great historical value, giving insights into the queer spaces, lesbian scene, wlw relationships and being gay at that time. I need to read it so bad if someone has a pdf please tell me I’ll send them my fanfic wips

1980s

On Strike against God - Joanna Russ (1980) / “A lost feminist masterwork by feminist and speculative fiction icon, Joanna Russ, about a young lesbian's coming-to-consciousness during the social upheaval of the 1970s. When Esther, a recently divorced professor, has her first lesbian love affair, the fallout brings her everyday miseries into focus and precipitates a personal crisis. She flees her small, upstate New York college town, grapples with gender confusion and the ghosts of therapists past, and fumbles her way through comedic sexual self-discovery, oscillating all the while between visionary confidence and debilitating self-doubt. Confronted with the homophobia of straight feminists and the misogyny of gay men, Esther is left to forge a language for her feminism and her burgeoning lesbian desire. On Strike Against God is quintessentially experimental but accesible, alternately wry and earnest, poignantly didactic, playful, and emotionally charged.” From a review: “For anyone like me who's unfamiliar with the quote which inspired the title: A judge was sentencing a picketer from the early twentieth century shirtwaist-makers strike (the first large scale strike by women), and he told her, "You are striking against God and Nature, whose law is that man shall earn his bread by the sweat of his brow. You are on strike against God!"

Faultline - Sheila Ortiz Taylor (1982) / “An outrageous, zesty, funny Lesbian novel; the adventures of a Lesbian mother with six children, three hundred rabbits, and very relaxed attitude."

The Swashbuckler - Lee Lynch (1985) / "Frenchy Tonneau leaves her closeted home in the Bronx for the bars of New York City, the freedom of Provincetown, and the liberation of Greenwich Village in the 1960s and 1970s. Her hangouts, her women, her small yet universal world tell the stories of the times - and the stories of lesbians today. A timeless journey and a riveting read, The Swashbuckler is heart-wrenching, heartwarming, and unforgettable." Butch main character, lesbian life in the 60s/70s, lesbian-feminism, butchfemme, etc.

Fried Green Tomatoes at the Whistle Stop Café - Fannie Flagg (1987) / listen, LISTEN, I know this book is not obscure, absolutely not given it even has a movie adaptation, but people do not give this book the love it deserves. I'm constantly thinking about Idgie and Ruth, they are one of my favorite fictional couples ever, and also my favorite lesbian fictional couple. They are such interesting characters with such an interesting dynamic and I just love them so so much. A femmebutch couple in 1920s Alabama, who go through many hardships but still find eachother, still end together, and even have a restaurant, live together, and raise a kid. And not only them, but the book is made out of 4 main characters (or 3 depends on if you see Ninny as a main character or not), Idgie, Ruth, and Ninny and Evelyn. Evelyn, an 80s depressed housewife in her 40s finds solace and a true friend in Ninny, a 90 year old woman staying at a nursing home (not ‘cause she needs it, but to keep a friend company). Ninny tells her the story of Idgie (her, kind of, sister) and Ruth, her best friend and lover. Evelyn finds feminism and hope through the memories, getting inspired by Idgie and Ruth's story and becoming happier in her life. It has several points of views and it jumps between years (first 1980s, then 1920s, then 1940s, then 1980s again, etc) and it also talks a lot about racism in 1920s Alabama, and i'll just stop because I love this book so much and i could go on forever. Oh, and also they murder a man and feed him to a police officer.

Lovers' choice - Becky Birtha (1987) / A collection of eleven short stories about lesbian women.

1990s

Out Of Time - Paula Martinac (1990) / Susan finds an old photograph album with pictures from the 1920s, all pictures being of a group of women (four in total). She's told it's not for sale, but she steals it anyway. After some digging, she finds out than two of the girls from the photos were lovers! And not only is Susan trying to navigate the details of her life and of her relationship with her own girlfriend, but she obsesses over the women in the picture, and eventually, the spirits of the girls start to haunt her.

The Gilda Stories - Jewele Gomez (1991) / Gilda escaped from slavery in the 1850s, until she's taken by a vampire who (consensually) turns her into a vampire too. Gilda moves through the decades finding community and connections and helping people, and slowly builds a place for herself in time. (Fine, not actually obscure since I’ve seen it all around the internet, but it just sounds so good)

The Dyke and the Dybbuk - Ellen Galford (1993) / “Dybbuk Kokos, a feisty soul-stealing demon of medieval Jewish folklore, has been trapped in a tree for two hundred years. When lightning strikes and Kokos is released, she finds herself in the world of the 20th century -- as the disgruntled employee of the multinational corporation, Mephistco. In order to keep her job and fulfill an ancient curse, Kokos must hunt down the descendant of the woman she was instructed to haunt centuries ago. No easy task, as that descendant happens to be Rainbow Rosenbloom -- London taxi-driver, film critic, lesbian, and niece to a pack of formidable aunts. As the hilarious tale unfolds, both Rainbow and her dybbuk discover that History still holds a few tricks up her sleeve.”

Annabel and I - Chris Anne Wolfe (1996) / Plot summed up by a reader: “Half-orphaned Jenny-Wren spends her summers at her uncle Jake's fishing lodge on Lake Chautauqua. One summer day when she's twelve years old while boating with her uncle, she finds a girl on the end of a dock reaching futilely for her escaped model boat. Jenny swims over and rescues the boat, meeting the orphaned Annabel, spending her summers at her grandmother's summer estate. This begins a friendship that endures and grows for years as the two girls spent each summer together, only to be separated at the end of summer. As the two grow older, they realize a magic is at work that keeps bringing them together, despite the near century between them. As the summers come and go, the two young women discover their love for each other, and the realization that their love is imposible. Can their love persist beyond those fleeting summers and flourish, in the face of time?”. Review from a reader: “The foreword says this book is for all wlw, and that, "Because there are as many different ways to love a woman as there are women who love women; it's the loving, not the label, that really matters." That really captured the core of what this book does, it treasures the love we create with our bare hands for and with another woman.” A time travel romance (Jenny is from the 1980s, Annabel from 1890s)

Ain't Gonna Be the Same Fool Twice - April Sinclair (1996) / Bisexual mc. “Jean "Stevie" Stevenson, the indomitable heroine of "Coffee Will Make You Black," is back—somewhat older and wiser, with some experience and a college degree -- diving headfirst into the hot tub, free love, yoga, and vegetarian lifestyle of 1970s San Francisco. In this liberating new world of raised consciousness, mind-expanding, and disco-dancing, a soul sister with passion and daring has room to experiment with life and love to find out who she "really" is.”

Beyond the Pale - Elana Dykewomon (1997) / “The story of two Jewish women living through times of darkness and inhumanity in the early 20th century, capturing their undaunted love and courage in luminous and moving prose. The richly textured novel details Gutke Gurvich's odyssey from her apprenticeship as a midwife in a Russian shtetl to her work in the suffrage movement in New York. Interwoven with her tale is that Chava Meyer, who was attended by Gurvich at her birth and grew up to survive the pogrom that took the lives of her parents. Throughout the book, historical background plays a large part: Jewish faith and traditions, the practice of midwifery, the horrific conditions in prerevolutionary Russia and New York sweatshops, and the determined work of labor unionists and suffragists." While it is a romance, it's also more than that, it's about the life of Jewish women in the 20th century.

Crystal Diary - Frankie Hucklenbroich (1997) / “Frankie Hucklenbroich's razor-edged, compelling, often wryly humorous story hustles us from the blood-and-beer-drenched corners of her St. Louis meat-packing district '50s youth, through the sex-soaked Hollywood alleys of her '60s baby butch years, into the druggy metropolis of '70s San Francisco. Moving relentlessly from one woman to another until faces and bodies blur, scamming her existence, learning what the street has to how to make a buck, how to make it with a woman, how to court the dangers of crystal meth, how to survive.”

Hers 3 - Terry Wolverton (1999) / Short stories

2000s

Valencia - Michelle Tea (2000) / "Valencia is the fast-paced account of one girl's search for love and high times in the drama-filled dyke world of San Francisco's Mission District. Through a string of narrative moments, Tea records a year lived in a world of girls: there's knife-wielding Marta, who introduces Michelle to a new world of radical sex; Willa, Michelle's tormented poet-girlfriend; Iris, the beautiful boy-dyke who ran away from the South in a dust cloud of drama; and Iris's ex, Magdalena Squalor, to whom Michelle turns when Iris breaks her heart."

Naked in the Promised Land: A Memoir - Lillian Faderman (2003) / “Born in 1940, Lillian Faderman is the only child of an uneducated and unmarried Jewish woman who left Latvia to seek a better life in America. Lillian grew up in poverty, but fantasised about becoming an actress. When her dreams led to the dangerous, seductive world of the sex trade and sham-marriages in Hollywood of the fifties, she realised she was attracted to women, and that show-biz is as cruel as they say. Desperately seeking to make her life meaningful, she studied at Berkeley; paying her way by working as a pin-up model and burlesque dancer, hiding her lesbian affairs from the outside world. At last she became a brilliant student and the woman who becomes a loving partner, a devoted mother, an acclaimed writer and ground-breaking pioneer of gay and lesbian scholarship. Told with wrenching immediacy and great power, Naked in the Promised Land is the story of an exceptional woman and her remarkable, unorthodox life.”

Her Naked Skin - Rebecca Lenkiewicz (2008) / Theatre. “Militancy in the Suffragette Movement is at its height. Thousands of women of all classes serve time in Holloway Prison in their fight to gain the vote. Amongst them is Lady Celia Cain who feels trapped by both the policies of the day and the shackles of a frustrating marriage. Inside, she meets a young seamstress, Eve Douglas, and her life spirals into an erotic but dangerous chaos. London 1913. A crucial moment when, with emancipation almost in sight, women refuse to let the establishment stand in their way.”

The Rain Before it Falls - Jonathan Coe (2008) / “A story of three generations of women whose destinies reach from the English countryside in World War Il to London, Toronto, and southern France at the turn of the new century. Evacuated to Shropshire during the Blitz, eight-year-old Rosamond forged a bond with her cousin Beatrix that augured the most treasured and devastating moments of her life. She recorded these memories sixty years later, just before her death, on cassettes she bequeathed to a woman she hadn't seen in decades. When her beloved niece, Gill, plays the tapes in hopes of locating this unwitting heir, she instead hears a family saga swathed in promise and the story of how Beatrix, starved of her mother's affection, conceived a fraught bloodline that culminated in heart-stopping tragedy—its chief victim being her own granddaughter. And as Rosamond explores the ties that bound these generations together and shaped her experience all along, Gill grows increasingly haunted by how profoundly her own recollections--not to mention the love she feels for her grown daughters, listening alongside her-- are linked to generations of women she never knew. A stirring, masterful portrait of motherhood and family secrets, "The Rain Before It Falls" is also a meditation on the tapestries we weave out of the past, whether transcendent or horrific.”

2010s

When We Were Outlaws - Jeanne Cordova (2011) / "A sweeping memoir, a raw and intimate chronicle of a young activist torn between conflicting personal longings and political goals. When We Were Outlaws offers a rare view of the life of a radical lesbian during the early cultural struggle for gay rights, Women's Liberation, and the New Left of the 1970s. Brash and ambitious, activist Jeanne Cordova is living with one woman and falling in love with another, but her passionate beliefs tell her that her first duty is "to the revolution".—to change the world and end discrimination against gays and lesbians."

Call Me Esteban - Leila Kalamuié (2015) / “With unapologetic vividness, Lejla Kalamujic depicts pre- and post-war Sarajevo by charting a daughter coping with losing her mother, but discovering herself. From imagined conversations with Franz Kafka to cozy apartments, psychiatric wards, and cemeteries, Call Me Esteban is a piercing meditation on a woman grasping at memories in the name of claiming her identity.”

Lancelot: Her Story - Carol Anne Douglas (2015) / Arthurian legend retelling! "A young girl sees a man rape and murder her mother. She grabs a stick and puts out his eye. Her father raises her as a boy so she will be safe from men's attacks. She practices and practices until she becomes a great fighter - Lancelot. She wants to protect women—and she does. Lancelot hears about King Arthur, a just king across the sea, and journeys to earn a place at Camelot. She vows to serve him. but fears that Arthur and his men will discover that she is a woman and send her away. Lancelot is shocked to realize that she is falling in love with the king's wife, Guinevere. Guinevere is a strong woman who would have preferred to be queen in her own right, not through marriage. Saxons attack Arthur's kingdom, and Lancelot finds out that fighting a war is far different from saving women in single combat. The savagery of war devastates her, she is living a lie, but she is also deeply in love…”

Jigsaw Youth - Tiffany Scandal (2015) / “Lose your best friend because you finally Came Out. Spend days driving aimlessly because there's nothing to do. Serve your rapist breakfast because you need your job. Fall asleep to gunshots and sirens because that's the only sense of home you've ever known. Hold hands with ghosts. Your life is in pieces, but you can't be broken. Wipe off the blood. Tired of being told who to be, what to wear, how to act and who to fuck. Break the rules and learn fast how to never get caught. All you need is nothing, but you're happy with your car, guitar and camera. Throwing around polaroids of tits like they're money, you swap stories about adventures and realize that we're all running away from something.”

Creatures of Will & Temper - Molly Tanzer (2017) / Recommended as a sapphic picture of dorian gray retelling, it tells the story of Dorina (hedonistic, art lover, and woman-kisser), her older sister Evadne (fencer and responsable), Lady Henrietta (suit-wearing, cigar-smoking lesbian who is a horrible influence), and Basil, Dorina and Evadne's uncle, and who's character has not changed much. They also summon demons.

The Adventures of China Iron - Gabriela Cabezón Cámara (2017) / “1872. The pampas of Argentina. China is a young woman eking out an existence in a remote gaucho encampment. After her no-good husband is conscripted into the army, China bolts for freedom, setting off on a wagon journey through the pampas in the company of her new-found friend Liz, a settler from Scotland. While Liz provides China with a sentimental education and schools her in the nefarious ways of the British Empire, their eyes are opened to the wonders of Argentina's richly diverse flora and fauna, cultures and languages, as well as to the ruthless violence involved in nation-building. This subversive retelling of Argentina's foundational gaucho epic Martín Fierro is a celebration of the colour and movement of the living world, the open road, love and sex, and the dream of lasting freedom. With humour and sophistication, Gabriela Cabezón Cámara has created a joyful, hallucinatory novel that is also an incisive critique of national myths.”

2020s

Thirst - Marina Yuszczuk (2020) / “Across two different time periods, two women confront fear, loneliness, mortality, and a haunting yearning that will not let them rest. It is the twilight of Europe's bloody bacchanals, of murder and feasting without end. In the nineteenth century, a vampire arrives from Europe to the coast of Buenos Aires and, for the second time in her life, watches as villages transform into a cosmopolitan city, one that will soon be ravaged by yellow fever. She must adapt, intermingle with humans, and be discreet. In present-day Buenos Aires, a woman finds herself at an impasse as she grapples with her mother's terminal illness and her own relationship with motherhood. When she first encounters the vampire in a cemetery, something ignites within the two women-and they cross a threshold from which there's no turning back. With echoes of Mary Shelley's Frankenstein and written in the vein of feminist Gothic writers like Shirley Jackson, Daphne du Maurier, and Carmen Maria Machado, Thirst plays with the boundaries of genre while exploring the limits of female agency, the consuming power of desire, and the fragile vitality of even the most immortal of creatures.” Lesbian vampires!

The Lives We Left Behind - Olivia Bratherton-Wilson (2021) / I read this one so long ago and I don’t remember everything with detail, just than I really liked it. “1943. Seventeen-year-old Dorotea Miller is given the responsibility of managing the family farm when her father and brother are conscripted, leaving her with only her distant mother and the unfamiliar Land Girls for company. Angeline Carter and her four younger brothers are evacuated to the Welsh countryside to escape the bombings; the Miller farm is nothing like they've seen before and certainly more than Angeline bargained for when she meets the surly, unwelcoming farmer's daughter. Despite their rocky start, misunderstandings and tragedies, Dorothea and Angeline realise that their friendship may run deeper than either of them had prepared for.” There is also a sequel! That one I haven’t read tho.

Agatha of Little Neon - Claire Luchette (2021) / "Agatha has lived every day of the last nine years with her sisters (the other nuns) : they work together, laugh together, pray together. Their world is contained within the little house they share. The four of them are devoted to Mother Roberta and to their quiet, purposeful life. But when the parish goes broke, the sisters are forced to move. They land in Woonsocket, a formermill town now dotted with wind turbines. […] Agatha is forced to venture out into the world alone, to teach math at a local all-girls high school, where for the first time in years she will have to reckon with what she sees and feels all on her own. Who will she be if she isn't with her sisters? These women, the church, have been her home--or has she just been hiding? […] It is a novel about female friendship and devotion, the roles made available to us, and how we become ourselves." Lesbian nuns

Burning Butch - R/B Mertz (2022) / A butch lesbian memoir of their life growing up catholic and surviving in the world, while dealing with faith and what it shape it takes to them.

London on My Mind - Clara Alves (2022) / So, the English translation just came out! Funny thing is, I started this in 2022 even tho I don’t know Portuguese (translating paragraph by paragraph with google translate) and it was pretty good. I haven’t finished it (translating a whole book with google translate is definitely work) but I’m so ready to read it now that it’s translated. Dayana (seventeen, black, plus size, and Brazilian) is forced to move to London with her father (who abandoned her mother and her) and his new family after her mother died. She’s having a pretty horrible time, until, on a walk, finds a redhead girl… escaping Buckingham Palace?? So of course, she helps her escape. Who exactly is this girl? Why was she escaping?? The answer, her name is Diana and she’s sort of (super) the princess of Wales. Huh.

Helen House - Kayla Kumari Upadhyaya (2022) / “Right before meeting her girlfriend Amber's parents for the first time, the unnamed narrator of Helen House learns that she and her partner share a similar both of their sisters are dead. As the narrator wonders what else Amber has been hiding, she struggles with her own secret--using sex as a coping mechanism--as well as confusion and guilt over whether she really cares about Amber, or if she's only using her for sex. When they arrive at the parents' rural upstate home, a quaint but awkward first meeting unravels into a nightmare in which the narrator finds herself stranded in a family's decades-long mourning ritual. At turns terrifying and erotic, Helen House is a queer ghost story about trauma and grief.”

Promises in Pompeii - Violet Morley (2022) / Set in Ancient Rome, it tells the story of two girls, Octavia and Helvia, childhood friends, and their journey through life as women and through their feelings. In the author ig, she said it includes: adventure/survival, against the odds, brothels, butch/femme, coming of age, disguised as a man, first love, friends to lovers, opposites attract, etc. I’m currently reading it, and I really like it so far.

Nettleblack - Nat Reeve (2022) / “Subversive and playful, Nettleblack is a neo-Victorian queer farce that follows a runaway heir/ess and an organisation of crime-fighting misfits as they struggle with the misdeeds besieging a rural English town. The year is 1893. Having run away from her family home to escape an arranged marriage, Welsh heiress Henrietta “Henry” Nettleblack finds herself ambushed, robbed, and then saved by the mysterious Dallyangle Division - part detective agency, part neighbourhood watch. Desperate to hide from her older sisters, Henry disguises herself and enlists. But the Division soon finds itself under siege from a spate of crimes and must fight for its very survival. Assailed by strange feelings for her new colleague - the tomboyish, moody Septimus - Henry quickly sees that she's lost in a small rural town with surprisingly big problems. And to make things worse, sinister forces threaten to expose her as the missing Nettleblack sister. As the net starts to close around Henry, the new people in her life seem to offer her a way out, and a way forward. Is the world she's lost in also a place she can find herself? Told through journal entries and letters, Nettleblack is a picaresque ride through the perils and joys of finding your place in the world, challenging myths about queerness - particularly transness - as a modern phenomenon, while exploring the practicalities of articulating queer perspectives when you're struggling for words.”

Sunburn - Chloe Michelle (2023) / In Ireland, the early 1990s, Lucy feels out of place in her small town. She falls in love with her best friend and she has to find a way to find herself, make a meaning out of her feelings, and hide the truth from her conservative small town and religious peers.

Lucky Red - Claudia Cravens (2023) / "A vibrant and cinematic debut set in the American West about a scrappy orphan who finds friendship, romance, and her true calling as a revenge-seeking gunslinger." Lesbian cowboys

Neon Roses - Rachel Dawson (2023) / “Eluned Hughes is stuck. It's 1984 in a valley in south Wales: the miners' strike is ravaging her community; her sister's swanned off with a Thatcherite policeman; and her boyfriend Lloyd keeps bringing up marriage. And if they play '99 Red Balloons' on the radio one more time, she might just lose her mind. Then the fundraising group Lesbians and Gays Support the Miners comes down from London, and she meets June, a snaggle-toothed blonde in a too-big leather jacket. Suddenly, Eluned isn't stuck any more - she's in freefall. June's an artist and an activist, living in a squat in Camden. With June, Eluned can imagine a completely different - and exciting - life for herself. But as her family struggles with the strike, and her relationship with her sister deteriorates, should she really leave it all behind? From the Valleys to the nightclubs of Cardiff, London and Manchester, NEON ROSES is a heartwarming, funny and a little bit filthy queer coming-of-age story with a cracking '80s soundtrack.”

Tale of Three Ships - Darcia G. Laucerica (2023) / “In a world under the thumb of an empire, pirates sail away searching for a breath of freedom. But even the ocean is tainted by the powerful nation that has spread lies about women being bad luck at sea. Glenlivet has never cared about the fear-mongering. Her ship welcomes those who are rejected and need a home. For all the sailor' s superstitions and "codes" of piracy the captain mocks every day, not leaving the docks when it's dark is a personal boundary she swears by ever since acquiring The Outsider about eight years ago. She just might have to break her own rules to protect her crew, escape the claws of a king who wants her dead, and murder the man who raised her.” I’ve heard so many good things about this. Lesbian main character, with mlm and trans side characters. Author in social media said it includes: Chosen pirate family, sirens, indigenous and latine inspired characters, anti-colonialism, and people fighting injustice and abuse.

How to Breathe Ash - Alex Nonymous (2023) / “Eleanor Perrault doesn't know if there's a right way to handle being suddenly orphaned at sixteen, but it's definitely not the way that she's been coping with it. It's been two months since her parents died and despite her autism normally causing her to be even more emotionally volatile than most of her peers, she still hasn't even managed to cry over them yet. On top of trying to learn how to grieve properly, Eleanor's juggling starting a new semester in a new town with an aunt who seems eternally disappointed in her and a cousin who's randomly decided to start hating her. And a crush on the incredibly pretty president of her new school's QSA. How to Breathe Ash is a contemporary YA Cinderella retelling following Eleanor through elaborate dances, anonymous chat rooms, and learning the right way to not be alright.” Autistic mc! While I haven’t read anything from this author (yet) they have lots of wlw/nblw/nblnb books with autistic main characters.

War and Solace: A Tale from Norvegr - Edale Lane (2023) / “A battle-hardened shieldmaiden. A pacifist healer. Can the two find love amid the chaos of war? From Edale Lane, the award-winning, best-selling author of Sigrid & Elyn, comes a new Tale from Norgevr! Tyrdis is a stalwart warrior raised to value honor, courage, and military prowess. When a traumatic injury renders the powerful protector helpless, she depends on the lovely, tender-hearted Adelle to restore her from the brink of death. Is it merely gratitude or true love that draws Tyrdis to the healer? Defying cultural norms, Adelle despises violence and those who propagate it, but when her shieldmaiden patient saves the life of her beloved little girl, she must reexamine her values. Could Tyrdis be more than a stiff, efficient killer with an amazing body? In a kingdom steeped in conflict with their neighbors and internal strife, shocking secrets are revealed, and both women strive to ensure justice prevails. Can they overcome their differences to safeguard their friends, end the war, and fall in love, or will fate prove to be a cruel sovereign?” Historical fiction set during 643. The author also has another two sapphic books set in the same time period.

Maddalena and the Dark - Julia Fine (2023) / “A novel set in 18th-century Venice at a prestigious music school, about two girls drawn together by a dangerous wager Venice, 1717. Fifteen-year-old Luisa has only wanted one thing: to be the best at violin. As a student at the Ospedale della Pietà, she hopes to join the highest ranks of its illustrious girls' orchestra and become a protégé of the great Antonio Vivaldi. Luisa is good at violin, but she is not the best. She has peers, but she does not have friends. Until Maddalena. After a scandal threatens her noble family's reputation, Maddalena is sent to the Pietà to preserve her marriage prospects. When she meets Luisa, Maddalena feels the stirrings of a friendship unlike anything she has known. But Maddalena has a secret: she has hatched a dangerous plot to rescue her future her own way. When she invites Luisa into her plans, promising to make her dreams come true, Luisa doesn't hesitate. But every wager has its price, and as the girls are drawn into the decadent world outside the Pietà's walls, they must decide what it is they truly want—and what they will do to pay for it. Lush and heady, swirling with music and magic, Maddalena and the Dark is a Venetian fairytale about the friendship between two girls and the boundless desire that will set them free, if it doesn't consume them first.”

Greasepaint - Hannah Levene (2024) / “Set against a backdrop of 1950s New York, this experimental novel follows an ensemble cast of all-singing, all-dancing butch dykes and Yiddish anarchists through eternal Friday nights, around the table, and at the bar. In one of many bars, Frankie Gold sings while Sammy Silver plays piano after a day job at the anarchist newspaper. The Butch Piano Players Union meets in the corner next to the jukebox. Laur smokes on the back steps, sweaty thigh to thigh with Vic. Frankie's childhood sweetheart, Lily, turns up at yet another bar to see a second Sammy play every Friday night. And before all that, there's always dinner at Marg's. Fabulated out of oral histories, anthologies, as well as the fiction of the butch-femme bar scene and Yiddish anarchist tradition, Greasepaint is a rollicking whirlwind of music and politics- the currents of community embodied and held inside the bar.”

Perfume & Pain - Anna Dorn (2024) / “A controversial Los Angeles author attempts to revive her career and finally find true love in this hilarious nod to 1950s lesbian pulp fiction. Having recently moved both herself and her formidable perfume bottle collection into a tiny bungalow in Los Angeles, mid-list author Astrid Dahl finds herself back in the Zoom writer's group she cofounded, Sapphic Scribes, after an incident that leaves her and her career lightly canceled. But she temporarily forgets all that by throwing herself into a few sexy distractions—like Ivy, a grad student who smells like metallic orchids and is researching 1950s lesbian pulp, or her new neighbor, Penelope, who smells like patchouli. When Astrid receives an unexpected call from her agent with the news that actress and influencer Kat Gold wants to adapt her previous novel for TV, Astrid finally has a chance to resurrect her waning career. But the pressure causes Astrid's worst vice to rear its head—the Patricia Highsmith, a blend of Adderall, alcohol, and cigarettes-and results in blackouts and a disturbing series of events. Unapologetically feminine yet ribald, steamy yet hilarious, Anna Dorn has crafted an exquisite homage to the lesbian pulp of yore, reclaiming it for our internet—and celebrity-obsessed world”

How It Works Out - Myriam Lacroix (2024) / “Surreal, darkly comic and achingly tender, Myriam Lacroix's debut sees a queer love story play out in many alternate realities. What if you had the chance to rewrite the course of your relationship, again and again, in the hopes that it would work out? After Myriam and Allison fall in love at a show in run-down punk house, their relationship starts to unfold through a series of hypotheticals. What if they became mothers by finding a baby in an alley? What if the only cure for Myriam's depression was Allison's flesh? What if they were B-list celebrities, famous for writing a book about building healthy lesbian relationships? How much darker-or sexier-would their dynamic be if one were a power-hungry CEO, and the other her lowly employee? From the fantasies of early romance to the slow encroaching of violence that unravels the fantasy, each reality builds to complete a brilliant, painfully funny portrait of love's many promises and perils. Equal parts sexy and profane, unsentimental, and gut-wrenching, How It Works Out is a formally inventive, arresting, uncanny exploration of queerness, love, and our drive for connection, in any and all possible worlds.”

All the Painted Stars - Emma Denny (@a-kind-of-merry-war) (2024) / “Oxfordshire 1362. When Lily Barden discovers her best friend Johanna's hand in marriage is being awarded as the main prize at a tournament, she is determined to stop it. Disguised as a knight, she infiltrates the contest, preparing to fight for Jo's hand. But her conduct ruffles feathers, and when a dangerous incident escalates out of Lily's control, Jo must help her escape. Finding safety with a local brewster, Lily and Jo soon settle into their new freedom, and amongst blackberry bushes and lakeside walks an unexpected relationship blossoms. But when Jo's past caches up with her and Lily's reckless behaviour threatens their newfound happiness, both women realise that choices must always come at a cost. The question they need to ask is if the cost is worth the price of love…” The cover of the edition coming out in November is SO pretty and lately I’ve been looking for medieval sapphic books like crazy.

Gentlest of Wild Things - Sarah Underwood (2024) / So this book is by the same author as Lies We Sing to the Sea, and I’m in no rush to read that book (a so-called odyssey retelling even tho the author has admitted to never actually reading the odyssey??) but this one looks compelling. “On the island of Zakynthos, nothing is more powerful than Desire-love itself, bottled and sold to the highest bidder by Leandros, a power-hungry descendent of the god Eros. Eirene and her beloved twin sister, Phoebe, have always managed to escape Desire's thrall. Until Leandros' wife dies mysteriously and he sets his sights on Phoebe. Determined to keep her sister safe, Eirene strikes a bargain with Leandros: if she can complete the four elaborate tasks he sets her, he will find another bride. But it soon becomes clear that the tasks are part of something bigger; something related to Desire and Lamia, the strange, neglected daughter Leandros keeps locked away. Lamia knows her father hides her for her own protection, though as she and Eirene grow closer, she finds herself longing for the outside world. But the price of freedom is high, and with something deadly-something hungry- stalking the night, that price must be paid in blood…” The author said that “Gentlest of Wild Things is a sapphic vampiric twist on the story of Eros and Psyche”

The End Crowns All - Bea Fitzgerald (2024) / “Princess. Priestess. The most beautiful girl in Troy. Casandra is used to being adored - and when her patron god, Apollo, offers her the power of prophecy, she sees an opportunity to rise even higher. But when she fails to uphold her end of the agreement, she discovers just how very far she has to fall. No one believes her visions. And they all seem to be of one girl - and the war she's going to bring to Troy's shores. Helen fled Sparta in pursuit of love, but it's soon clear Troy is a court like any other, with all its politics and backstabbing. And one princess seems particularly intent on driving her from the city before disaster can strike... But when war finally comes, it's more than the army at their walls they must contend with. Casandra and Helen might hold the key to reweaving fate itself - especially with the prophetic strands drawing them ever closer together. But how do you change your future when the gods themselves are dictating your demise?” Sapphic retelling of the iliad where Helen and Kassandra end up together

Idolfire - Grace Curtis (2025, March 11) / “An epic sapphic fantasy roadtrip inspired by the fall of Rome, from the Sunday Times bestselling author of Frontier and Floating Hotel On one side of the world, Aleya Ana-Ulai is desperate for a chance. Her family have written her off as a mistake, but she's determined to prove every last one of them wrong. On the other, Kirby of Wall's End is searching for redemption. An ancient curse tore her life apart, but to fix it, she'll have to leave everything behind. Fate sets them both on the path to Nivela, a city once poised to conquer the world with the power of a thousand stolen gods. Now the gates are closed and the old magic slumbers. Dead - or waiting for a spark to light it anew... A character-driven science-fantasy road trip book with sword fights and a slowburn romance, Idolfire delves into the vastness of history and the terrifying power of organized faith.”

If asked, I’ll also do one with gay books

(No 1950s lesbians because I don’t like pulp fiction :( )

[whereismymonsterlover]

I'm so happy seeing people talking on my post about Ciel's shorts (insane sentence but it makes sense in context). This is like a follow-up mega-post responding to the theories and headcanons I received.

@jeroidk wholeheartedly agree with this. Yana just loves to dress him in cunty fashion. I totally see him finding comfort in wearing shorts too, that's such a bittersweet explanation but I see it.

Similarly, @applestorms autism headcanon speaks to me a lot. I see myself in Ciel, from how tired he gets from socialising to not being keen on physical affection, etc. I like this take because it feeds into my 'Ciel is autistic' headcanon that he doesn't technically see a gender for himself; he just is. He doesn't mind the feminine or boyish clothes he wears, just as long as they're comfortable and smart-looking. I could go crazy on this but I do not have the time lmao.

@impulsiveasshole and @devianta left wonderful comments that really got me thinking. I was reminded of a chapter that would have benefited me in the original post lol. Chapter 37 introduces Nina Hopkins, Ciel's personal tailor. Sebastian and Nina have a sort of petty rivalry throughout but we find out that she definitely makes Ciel's clothes for him. (She's Yana's obsessive self-insert, I'm sure, and loves Ouji fashion, which is definitely part of the more literal answer to why Ciel wears shorts.) However, you are right, Sebastian has a large say in what Nina produces for Ciel's wardrobe. While shorts vs. trousers isn't explicitly mentioned, Sebastian shuts down a lot of Nina's avant-garde suggestions. Ciel seems to make no protest either and just lets them debate over style.

(I hate this manga sometimes, please be normal ;-;) Here we see Sebastian indirectly opposing anything that'll make Ciel seem child-like. If he honestly had an issue with this, then why is he still hiring Nina, who "has no interest in anything but girls or boys under 15"? For my sanity, I'm just gonna conclude that this is about her expertise in styles aimed at a younger clientele more than anything else... I believe you could read into this and determine that Sebastian's passivity towards Nina could mean that he uses her preferences to indirectly dress Ciel in clothes that are belittling or demeaning for his status. I really like this idea cus it adds another layer to how Seb, as a demon, can be pretty evil in his efforts to control and groom a contractor.

@bull-shit-suji The Victorian idea of what a child is FASCINATES ME when looking at Black Butler since Ciel's maturity and innocence are pushed to the very edge throughout the story. Reiterating former comments, we're looking at Ciel wanting to reclaim his childhood innocence, Sebastian having potential motives through Nina, as well as Yana's love for the fashion in general. You mention Funtom too, which I totally overlooked. To argue that his wardrobe contradicts his status and personality neglects the fact that he is also the face of a popular toy company. I can't confirm with a manga reference atm, but I'm sure Ciel himself has mentioned that the head of the company being a child is good for business. It wouldn't shock me if he used this marketing as an excuse to hold onto his prepubescence. Super super interesting!!

@annoyingttt made SUCH a good point and I totally agree. I'd say I did mischaracterise Ciel in my original post because he's not self-conscious of being viewed as a child, it's more he doesn't want to appear childish through his actions and mentality. The pride aspect is another amazing take. Completely makes sense now that you say it.

This was fun to compile!! I'm praying the hype dies down (not true) cus I was adding your comments to this as I was writing it lmao. Idk if a big post like this is the way to go for the sake of sharing theories but I love theorising so much and it's always better when more people get in on it.

[bvnga-aprikot]

Attempt at Athy’s Novel-Accurate Debutante Gown (+extra Jetty)

Due to my own boredom and inability to focus on my schoolwork, i decided to detour from that and sketch what i imagine a novel-accurate debutante gown for Athy would look like with the description given for it in chapter 54.

i try to stick to what was described and took heavy references from pinterest, especially with details such as the bow, bracelet, skirt, etc.. also, my first time drawing Athy with her platinum blonde hair as described in the novel! obviously in the manhwa Athy’s hair already looks more like Diana than Claude’s with it being lighter, but it definitely was on the subtler side (which i honestly think works with scenes where Athy emulates Claude). i also try to keep it fairy-like in terms of vibes and added sparkles to her bow and hair. overall, not too bad for a first attempt though i think it’s still a little far off. this design is basically one that i try to take the least liberties with since i’m aware of how many people want to see art of Athy’s novel dress and i’m one of them so i feel quite happy with this. though is it technically a sketch…

and as if sketching Athy’s dress from the novel description wasn’t enough, i decided to take my brain rot further and sketch out how i think Jennette’s debutante dress would look like. courtesy to it not being described and my brain going haywire at this point lmao.

i’m exposing my inner ASM stan again because this is the second time i used an iconic ASM lady’s hair (or, hairbow to be exact) as an inspiration for a WMMAP fan design. this time instead of Shuri i decided to reference Ohara because honestly that hairstyle is to die for. Jennette’s dress on the other hand heavily referenced from a dress that assume is from the regency era? i just think the vibes suit her. yes i did also give her a fan for some details (referenced a drawing of a character named Audrey Hall from Lord Of The Mysteries, never read it but i heard it’s great) and i know it doesn’t match her vibe in the slightest but like, she deserves some fun in this sketch.

so, yeah. that’s my attempt at sketching out what i would imagine Athanasia’s debutante gown would look like as described in the novel, with a bonus Jennette to boot. let me know if there’s anything in these designs i improve on as i would love to hear some feedback. see ya <3 ;3