#I keep going back & forth between wanting to make a master list and also explain my tag system on this tumblr

[myokk]

before it felt like a sin, ch. 1

pairing: Sebastian Sallow x f!MC

word count: 3000

summary: Eloise never wanted to be different.

And yet, her differences are what have defined her life up until this point: growing up as a squib in one of the most prominent wizarding families, being exiled to muggle society, and then attending Hogwarts at the age of sixteen.

She finds herself thrust into the life she should have been prepared for from birth but was denied. As she navigates this new life and her new precarious position in her family, she must come to terms with the fact that maybe what she dreamed of her whole life isn't turning out how she ever expected it would.

a/n: Hi everyone!! I decided to post this here too...I'm slowly going through everything I've written so far, and I want to post each chapter here as I edit them. I'm hoping that this can be a way to a) get back in to writing more, and b) get better at my art as I make full illustrations for each chapter. Let me know what you think!! :)

There is nothing quite as horrible as being a muggle, Eloise thought savagely as she ripped out yet another stitch in the landscape she was embroidering. At least, it was supposed to be a landscape. Maybe with her head tilted to the left and with her eyes almost closed so everything blurred together, it might resemble one. She did just that, trying her hardest to make out some recognizable shape and blast the stupid practice of manually pushing colored thread through a fabric in some sort of -

“And what is this, Miss Babbit?”

Eloise jumped at the sound and looked up at the scowling face of her teacher, and then quickly back down at the tangled thread in her lap. Behind her, she could hear the hushed giggles of the other girls in her class.

“Oh! Er…it’s -”

“How long have you been here?” the woman interrupted.

“One hour…I just -”

“Don’t be smart with me. I mean, at this institute.”

“Five years.” Eloise glared down at her embroidery as if it had personally offended her. It wasn’t like she was actively trying to be bad at everything, but she had the distinct disadvantage - how had it ever come to be that she would be at a disadvantage to muggles? - of not having spent a lifetime being prepared for muggle society and all that it entailed. The last five years had been a monotonous, endless cycle of lessons designed to turn her into the perfect lady: French (a waste of time as Eloise was already fluent), embroidery (a waste of time as the things she embroidered weren’t actually useful), dancing (a waste of time as she was already engaged to be married - why would she bother trying to woo another silly man?), and her most dreaded class of all: etiquette. No matter how many years had been spent trying to assimilate into muggle culture, her thoughts still got muddled when she tried to remember the steps to a dance, or how to properly address the son of a duke.

Did it really matter, anyways, what the other girls thought? She had pretended her whole life to be the daughter she thought her parents had wanted - now she was simply pretending that she hadn’t been thrown into the muggle world without a second thought. What was a bit more pretending - that she didn’t care? That she hadn’t been tossed aside without a second thought?

“Exactly. Five years. And yet, you have shown no progress whatsoever. This -” a finger jabbed accusingly at the embroidery - “is absolutely horrendous. If your parents hadn’t continued to make such a sizeable donation every year, I would have deemed you a lost cause and sent you packing when you first arrived. How your family ever managed your betrothal to the son of an earl is beyond me.”

Eloise grimaced at the mention of her fiance as her teacher clapped her hands together to get the attention of the class - a wholly unnecessary action due to the fact that it was already being given. “Class is dismissed. Please collect your belongings and put them in the correct place. Remember, as future wives and mothers, you must be organized in all aspects of your life. Many of you will be managing important households and the slightest misstep -“ a slight glance to Eloise out of the corner of her eye - “can cause the biggest of scandals.”

Eloise raced to gather her things and leave the classroom before everyone else. No matter how many years had been spent at the school, she couldn’t help but hate sitting through the classes amongst the judgmental stares and snide remarks. Although things had started out shaky at the finishing school - to be expected, really, when you’ve grown up in wizarding society and then are then forced to live as a muggle - it still stung that after all these years, she still hadn’t found a friendly face. She was treated as if she were a pariah: it was as if the other girls just knew that something was different about her. But…wasn’t that the great irony of it all? She wasn’t different than them. She was a filthy squib.

When she first arrived at the school, she was an anomaly. A twelve-year-old girl who didn’t know how to play the piano or who the queen was. It was clear to everyone that Eloise wasn’t the charity case of the school - her parents were obviously quite wealthy - and yet they seemingly wanted nothing to do with her. Whereas the others got regular letters and visits from their family, it was as if Eloise were an orphan. Nothing new to her of course, but to her peers this otherness aided them in her ostracization.

Upon entering her room, she was abruptly pulled out of her thoughts. Something wasn’t right. Everything seemed the same: a twin bed perfectly made opposite a small wardrobe, a plain wooden desk placed between them. The weak afternoon sunlight shone through the window, illuminating her desk. But…there.

That…

Placed on her bed, resting on the pillow, was a letter.

She never received letters.

Eloise shoved her embroidery under her bed and hungrily grabbed at it, pausing when she saw the address. Miss E. Babbit. The Third Bedroom on the Left… It seemed vaguely familiar to her in a way she couldn’t quite put her finger on.

As she read the letter, though, it became apparent to her exactly why this was. Although not exactly the same as the one her brother had received six years earlier, it quickly became apparent that this was a Hogwarts letter. For her. For Miss E. Babbit.

Hands shaking, she set the letter down on her desk and sat on the edge of her bed. She smoothed her hands over her skirt over and over, taking comfort in the familiar softness as she tried to even her breathing.

How was this possible? She had all but accepted the fact that she was a squib. The shame of her family, a dirty secret to be hidden away and never talked about or mentioned again. Her parents had suspected as much by the time she had turned seven without any signs of magic whatsoever manifesting around her - not even a basic transformation of brussel sprouts to sweets during dinner. It was ultimately confirmed, however, when her own Hogwarts acceptance letter never arrived. She had spent the whole year before her banishment daydreaming about her life at Hogwarts, still optimistic that there could be something magical inside of her. Her brother, Leo, came home every holiday with wonderful stories of his new friends and teachers, and the subjects he was learning at school. Even back then, at twelve years old, Eloise hadn’t been sure if he was actually hopeful she wasn’t a squib, or if he had been trying to prolong the fantasy for her before it all came crashing down.

Although she had had five years to come to terms with her new life, there was still a small part of her that hoped. A small “what if…”. She had tried time and time again to squash that tiny ray of optimism that would escape every so often, tried so very hard to cultivate a hard exterior that wouldn’t let any sort of vulnerability shine through. And that optimism was a vulnerability, after all. It was that vulnerability that had made it absolutely impossible for her to fit in the muggle world, and made it so that she didn’t really want to try.

Five years to come to terms with the fact that she needed a new purpose for her life and…

…not anymore?

Eloise grabbed the letter and greedily read through it again, drinking in all of the words. She paused at the end, thinking. Was this a forgery? Some sort of awful joke orchestrated by her brother? Leo had never been cruel to her in the past; in fact, he was the one who always encouraged her and was the most probable source of the small optimism that remained within her. However, she had no way of knowing how he had changed since she had last seen him. It had been, after all, five very long years. And not once had she heard from him, even though he had promised her through huge sobbing gulps that he would never abandon her. Maybe their parents had slowly poisoned him against her. It would be right on the nose for them, after all.

Looking at the envelope again, however…Third Bedroom on the Left…no. It was too specific. Nobody in her previous life had any reason to even want to contact her again, and nobody in her current life even knew what Hogwarts was, let alone have the ability to convincingly forge a letter just to have some fun at her expense.

A light, bubbly feeling began to spread throughout her body as it sunk in that this was real. She was going to Hogwarts. Soon, a - squinting at the letter again - a Professor Fig would be contacting her and giving her things to study. A huge grin slowly spread across her face and she hugged the letter to her chest as she fell back on her bed. She read through it again. Was it the fifth time already? It felt as though no amount of times rereading the letter would ever be enough.

Eloise got up and walked over to look at the calendar on her desk. She was surprised to see that September 1st was in only two days. The days at the finishing school moved in such a strange, sluggish way. They all felt the same. Monotonous. French and Latin and embroidery and household management and Merlin even knows what else all blending into each other in an endless parade of dusty classrooms and gossip and boredom.

The light feeling left her in an instant as, after years of practice, the optimism was squashed back down. But how will you even get to London? And, her brain added sneakily, you haven’t even shown any signs of magic. Maybe you’ll just be returned back here after they realize their mistake.

No, she thought fiercely, gripping the letter. Until -

A tapping came from the window. A tentative smile returned at the sight of a tawny brown owl with another envelope in its beak. She ripped it open as soon as it was in her hands (again addressed to Miss E. Babbit) and along with the letter a small, purple pouch fell out of the envelope and onto her bed.

Miss Eloise Babbit,

I am pleased to be the wizard charged with such an important task as escorting you to Hogwarts in two days’ time. It is something extraordinary to be accepted in your fifth-year, and as such, I expect extraordinary things from you. I have enclosed a small pouch along with this envelope, and in it are some items that will be vital to you in the upcoming days. I have included books for you to study at your leisure, and a small gobstone that will bring you to our rendezvous point in London. All you have to do is touch it at noon on the 1st and you will be transported instantly.

Your family has not been informed of your acceptance. I am sure you understand why - at this, Eloise scoffed quietly to herself - which is why I will personally be your escort.

I am looking forward to meeting you and bringing you to the sorting ceremony in two days’ time.

Yours,

Eleazar Fig

The handwriting was tiny and spidery and cramped, but it didn’t stop Eloise from reading it with the same vigor as the previous letter and as many times. Finally, she turned to the small pouch that had fallen onto her bed when she opened the second envelope. It must have had an invisible extension charm, because it was filled to the brim with books on basic spellwork and general wizarding history. Professor Fig had no way of knowing, but Eloise had already read many of these books and many more during the year her brother had started Hogwarts, as she had needed to know absolutely everything about what would be awaiting her. A few years may have passed since she had stepped foot in her family’s library, but she couldn’t get the books or their contents out of her brain even if she had wanted to. She had really wanted to forget everything she knew about the magical world when it was confirmed she was a squib but it was a futile effort. As she zoned out during her piano lessons, she would find herself mentally going through the movements to cast different charms.

It was painful to be thinking about things from the life that had been ripped away from her, to know that what she was thinking about would never come to pass, that she would never be able to wield magic - and yet she couldn’t find herself able to stop.

As Eloise picked out one of the books and settled into her armchair, a steely resolve overcame her.

She would prove that she deserved to be there, and was just as capable as any of they were. She would make her parents regret ever discarding her like she was nothing.

She was worthy. She was capable. And she would prove it.

The morning of September 1st dawned cold and rainy. Absolutely perfect.

Eloise had pretended to be sick the night before, and no one had suspected a thing when she stayed in bed long after all of the other girls had gotten ready and headed to breakfast. As the last of the chattering faded away down the hallway, Eloise finally got out of bed and prepared herself for the day. It was difficult to sit still long enough to braid her hair. Her fingers wouldn’t stop trembling and she had to restart countless times. Finally, she tied the black ribbon at the end into a neat bow and turned to the drawer of her desk to retrieve the small purple pouch she had hidden away.

Everything she deemed important enough to come along with her had already been placed inside: the books from Professor Fig, the hair ribbons gifted to her by her brother many years ago, and some clothing. Nothing else was coming with. She needed the fresh start. Besides, anything else she might need would be supplied, as her acceptance letter had specifically stated that any school supplies would be provided to her.

Waiting the hours before noon came along proved to be more difficult than Eloise had imagined. Time seemed to be moving slower than the molasses that had come with the breakfast sent up to her, the steady patter of the rain becoming a sort of metronome keeping time as she paced back and forth. Wasn’t there anything that could distract her, even for a bit? She glanced at the clock. Only five minutes had passed since the last time. 10.35.

The second hand ticking away in tandem with the sound of rain splashing against her window.

What if this was all a trick? What if she arrived at Hogwarts, and they turned her away because they realized they had made a mistake? After all, why would they admit a sixteen-year-old? Surely she was too old; every other student had started Hogwarts at the age of twelve and had shown signs of magic much earlier than that. She still hadn’t shown any signs of magical capability whatsoever, and didn’t feel any different than she had before receiving the letter. It had to be a fluke.

As her thoughts started veering into the melancholy she was prone to, she shook her head. No. Today was a happy, exciting day. She wasn’t going to squash the optimism down today, not when she needed it most. All of these thoughts she was having were simply that: thoughts. Not reality. Hogwarts never made a mistake, and in all of the history books she had read, she couldn’t recall an instance of someone being turned away at the door. Granted, she had also never heard of someone being admitted so late. But, better to focus on what she did know, which was that she had gotten the letter. It must be right in its assumption that she had magic.

Trying to pass the time was easier said than done. She ended up quizzing herself on all of the charms she had memorized in the books sent by Professor Fig, moving an imaginary wand in the precise movements needed to successfully cast and focusing on her pronunciation. She had studied all of these forms late into both nights she had had the books, and when she would eventually close her eyes to sleep, the wand movements were all she saw.

Eloise was determined that she would receive pity from nobody. Nobody was going to look at her like she was lacking. She had gotten enough of that to last a lifetime, and now that she was given this opportunity she wasn’t about to waste it.

When noon finally struck, Eloise was ready and waiting. She eagerly grabbed the gobstone that was sitting on her desk and felt the familiar tugging sensation in her navel as she was whisked away to London and the beginning of her new life.

next chapter

[slimesam]

The Nun and her Familiar (Gun x Reader)

Chap 2

Summary: Your third-year student is now summoning your own familiar and somehow you have summoned a literary hot-as-hell demon as your familiar. Your familiar, He is a sadistic man that loves to see your struggles when you're fighting monsters, he loves to see you squirm as he goes near you and especially when he mentions your "meat" is his favorite part.

He wonders when will give in to him

A/N: I am back! I am so burned out/too busy and out of ideas lol. as this also just fanfiction is just on a whim that I made! I probably shoud go back to drawing and stack every paragraph on this story. (being 3rd year in 2nd sem kicked my gear into lazy mode and busy catching up)

Warning: Implied NSFW(?)

________________________

Both of them arrive at the grand door beside the door there is a plate that is written ‘Place the Gifts and Letter for Head Priest DG here’ with an arrow that points down and you can see a lot of gifts, flowers, and letters being placed under a metal plate.

Y/n prepares herself to knock on the door, and Gun is at her back staring at Y/N's figure since they have left the summoning room.

'Her physic is definitely different from what I remember from those past centuries those nun/clerics are too fragile. As they are basically so easy to break when they are in a field battle as they mostly serve as buffer and healer.' Gun admires his new master body while comparing her to those weaklings that he has fought with centuries or decades ago.

Knock

Knock

Knock

“Come in”

Creeeeeek

"Good afternoon Head priest DG" Y/n open the door gently as she doesn't want to disturb him. Entering the room with Gun, and bow to the head priest as a sign of respect. While Gun merely just stood beside her staring intensely at DG like he is pinning point on why does he look familiar.

The pink hair idol looking man name DG smiles as he put down his paper work "Ha, Miss L/N I have been informed by your advisor that you need to resolve the issues of your familiar" ignoring on the demons intense stare

Y/N simply nod at DG and explain the situation

.

.

.

.

.

After Y/N explains the details, Head priest DG tapping his pointing fringer rapidly on the table thinking on how he would instruct Y/N problem.

And finally he stopped tapping.

"Miss Y/N, why don't you leave this problem to me I can process the form of this registration without any problem." He smiles

"Also can you leave first as I have to discuss something with your "familiar"" DG said to Y/N as he glares at Gun.

Y/N look at back and forth between them thinking that DG want to lecture a Demon and put a rule during his stay in the PTJ realm.

'Hopefully, they don't fight' Y/N thought as she leave the room.

Making sure the door closes tightly the two talk.

"It's been a while since we have met DG, ha no should I say James Lee the archangel." Gun smirk as he turns the door nob.

Dg smile turns into a shit grin like he gonna troll the crap out of Gun "Gun-ssi, You should already know already that I don’t go with the James Lee anymore, but you should hurry up and catch up with your new master. Wouldn't want her to steal away from some of her classmates right?"

Gun tsked as he remembered that his new master Y/n may probably get mobbed by his new fans due to him being a unique summon.

"Tell me what are you warning me about? "DG""

DG merely huffed at the remarked of Gun and leaned at his chair. "I would like to remind you to be on the watch list of the officials, so don't be reckless as you're gonna drag me into your problem."

"Of course of course, I won't do it out in the open with evidence DG. You must have forgotten that I keep my hands clean and legal." Gun slicked his hair back showing how confident and arrogant in his skills, turned his back from the pink hair priest and turned the doorknob.

"Before I go, I remember why they say that you are a demon dressed in angel from those times "DG "..... did you think that you can fool me on your tapping to cover those sinful sounds when this devil has sensitive hearing." Gun smirks as he goes out and closes the door.

UGK

A choking sound can be heard under the table of Dg.

"My my my Miss Kang don't worry about that, just keep on going, my dear"

Mmm?!?

"Yes yes, it's still safe to keep on going. He is merely teasing as he is also an unstated creature. Ha, surely no one will come here until the evening meeting… Why don't you sit on my knee, my dear." DG petting something? Someone? under his table.

Y/N being a good master she waits for Gun while she's staring outside the window, she still needs to show him around the campus and set some boundaries when she is in class or on fields. She doesn't want anyone to mob her for her unique familiar or just have him scaring the crap out of everyone from his majestic and terror aura.

"-Sensitive hearing"

Hearing the door closed, snaps her thoughts and looked at Gun who is approaching her.

"Ha! Gun! Did head priest DG talk to you about how you will settle?" Y/N rubs her neck nervously as she can feel the intense stare from her familiar.

In the spur of the moment, Gun brought his head beside Y/N's ear and whispered in a deep gritty voice. "My dear mistress, It's nothing to worry about."

Y/N backed away quickly while covering her right ear, blushing like a tomato at the Gun's whisper.

[2jaeh]

Bibliophile | Xiaojun x Reader

Genre: fluff, smut

Word count: 2,3k

Warnings: mature themes

Author: SIN

Two literature master students decide to make their steamy romance troupe debates a reality.

——————————————————————————

Your heels clicked against the marble floors as you ran over to the university library, hoping the evening rain wouldn’t worsen when you crossed the open courtyard.

Most of the students were either heading back to their dorm rooms or messing around in the common areas, while the only thing that rang in your head was to not be late for your part-time job at the restricted section of the library.

At first you had no damn clue why they needed someone to work there, especially since some of the books were even restricted to lecturers. But thanks to your century old university and their obsession with keeping their sacred books in pristine condition, all they needed was a literature masters student to help out from time to time.

You entered the library and greeted the woman at the front desk before she buzzed you in through to the door that led upstairs to the restricted area.

You quickly jogged up the stares and swung open the door only to be greeted by the only other person working around here, Xiao Dejun.

“You’re late again” his lips curled into a smile as he pushed up his gold framed glasses and inspected a dust covered book.

“Yeah the rain was just-“

“Crazy ?” Dejun peered up and pursed his lips, knowing that every excuse you had always ended in the same word.

“Yeah crazy” you half chuckled and removed your burgundy coat, making your way over to sign in the shift card.

All you knew about Dejun was that he finished his masters and was offered a lecture position at the university but decided to take up this job instead. He was very reserved and once told you that he craved the utter peacefulness of the restricted area, where he was usually either on his own or with you.

“I’m halfway on my thesis now” you said casually as you started fixing the binding of a physics book from the 70s.

“Oh?” Dejun raised his eyebrow and pulled out a chair next to you to tend to his own book repair, “I’m sure you’re glad it’s almost over right?”

You squinted your eyes and sighed, burying your head in your hands as that familiar migraine began to set in. “I’m....stuck” you groaned and peered up at Dejun, “I decided to dissect the romance genre of literature and honestly most of it is hot garbage.”

Dejun let out a laugh and you admired how his dark eyebrows knitted together, making his face look quite animated.

“What books have you studied if you don’t mind me asking ?” Dejun asked, his curious eyes met with yours as he shifted closer in his chair.

“Everything from Shakespeare to Nicolas Sparks, I just hate them all” you pouted and slumped back in your chair, moving the half bound book aside,

“Don’t get me wrong, I chose romance because I love it you know ? I just don’t think that those ‘classics’ do it any justice.”

Dejun nodded at your words and shrugged, “I agree with you, not a fan of that forbidden romance and rich girl poor man stuff either.”

“Right ?” Your eyes lit up and Dejun grinned at your passionate attitude. He’d always found you cute. Every so often he had the chance to work with you on a shift we’re always his best days. He’d listen to you rant about your professors, the music you hated on the radio, or the fact that someone stole your favourite parking spot.

“So....” Dejun folded his arms, “how would you change it ?”

“Change it?” You quirked a brow.

“What’s your perfect romance troupe ?” Dejun smiled softly and his soft brown eyes drew you in and made you feel warm, safe.

“Well for starters I think intimacy should come first and then the characters learn how to love each other as they develop their relationship” you explained, getting up from your chair and began pacing the small room,

“I don’t mind the cliche of they grab the same book or vinyl, I just prefer that instead of 7 chapters of them thinking about that moment they just take the leap right there.”

Dejun pondered on your words for a bit and also got to his feet, leaning against the table as he watched you pace back and forth.

“Would it work for people who somewhat knew each other before hand though ? A friend ? A colleague ?” Dejun quizzed and you nodded quickly,

“Yeah if there’s no prior feelings or hookups then why not ?”

“I guess we can’t test it then since we like each other huh ?” Dejun smirked returning to his seat innocently as you stopped abruptly and quickly tried to process what he had just said.

“I....we...don’t like each other ?” You stammered while ignoring the fact that your heart was racing against your chest.

Dejun chuckled as he carefully inspected one of the pages of his book, “the funny part is that you’re practically experiencing your ideal romance troupe and contradicting yourself by not owning up to the fact that we do in fact...like each other.”

Your mind was racing on every evening that you’ve spent with Dejun up until today. First day it’s true you both did a double take on each other and you found him extremely attractive. Day seven the two of you reached for the only hard cover copy left of Pride and Prejudice and spent the whole night critiquing the book until you lost track of time. Day seventeen you were packing books on the top shelf and as you descended down the steel steps you lost your balance and fell right into his arms.

You were literally living a goddamn romance troupe without even knowing it.

“By your words y/n, we need to skip a few steps now shouldn’t we ?” Dejuns eyes were still on his book, but he knew damn well that your eyes were on him.

“You’re right Dejun” you finally said and folded your arms across your chest.

Dejun turned his head to face you and narrowed his eyes, “I’m supposed to be the one making the move ? What happened to a change of scenery ? Uh women empowerment?”

You grabbed his hand and headed to the back of the room where the roof slightly slanted and the window panels were covered with water droplets as the night sky drew in. You neatened your blue plaid skirt and leaned against the old wood of a work station desk. Dejun cocked his head as you bit down on your lip, not knowing how to proceed to the next step.

“Why here ?” Dejun raised an eyebrow, removing his glasses and tucked them in the top pocket of his white buttoned down.

“I don’t know the setting is....pretty, also when we first met you were sitting at this desk reading the last book a literature master student would be reading” you stifled a laughter.

“Hey Harry Potter is my childhood” Dejun groaned, cutely rolling his eyes, something he did quite often and you would pester him to the point of seeing that reaction.

“Dejun,” you placed your hand on his cheek and his attention was focused on you, those soft brown eyes bore into yours as he took a step closer.

You felt the butterflies in your stomach as he softly wrapped his hand around the small of your back and placed the other on the back of your head. You finally leaned in and he did the same meeting your lips, for the first time and sighed. The kiss was soft, the two you just melted in the instant connection, basking in the feeling before continuing to deepen the kiss.

You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him closer until your bodies were pressed against each other, fitting each other’s silhouettes perfectly. Dejun slipped his hands down to your thighs and picked you up and placed you on the desk, not breaking the kiss as he slipped in between your legs.

“I’m afraid I’m going to want more than this” you sighed into the kiss, unable to remove your hands from his toned body as you felt the closeness of him between your legs making you feel aroused.

“Come back to my place” Dejun whispered as he began attacking your neck with kisses and played with the hem of your skirt.

You can’t remember if you said yes or just nodded but you were now in Dejuns car on his way to his place. You enjoyed the passionate kiss he shared with you at the stop street and the occasional squeeze of your thigh when he would make turn into a new road.

The rain had begun pelting down and thankfully you were already pulling into his apartment lot before it became really hazy. Dejun turned to his backseat and realized he had left his umbrella back at the library and sighed,

“Running hand in hand in the pouring rain troupe ?” He held out his hand and you chuckled, “always been on my bucket list anyway.”

The two of you ran for about half a minute in the pouring rain but it was enough to completely drench you from your head down to your shoes. Dejun quickly punched in the code of his door and pulled you inside, already covering you in kisses as his blonde hair stuck to his forehead.

It was one item of clothing after another as the trail of clothes led down to his bedroom, where he had you in just your lacy nude coloured two piece set while he was slowly ridding himself of his pants.

You fell into his bed as you watched him slowly pull his leather belt from its hoops and his black slacks finally fell to the ground,

“You are the most beautiful person I’ve ever met you know that ?” Dejun groaned as his eyes scanned over your body and he hovered over you.

“I could say the same about you Xiao Dejun” you mused and pulled him in for another hot passionate kiss. His warm body settled on yours and you wrapped your legs around his waist, wanting him closer even though it wasn’t even possible at this point.

Dejun unclipped your bra and moved his lips down to your breasts, squeezing one in his hand while licking and nipping at the other. You arched your back wanting more but also not wanting to rush him.

“Really want this to last much longer but I’m at my wits end right now” you moaned and Dejun chuckled as he peppered kisses all the way back up to your mouth.

“We have tonight, tomorrow, the next day and the day after that” he smirked against your lips before tugging on your bottom lip with his teeth.

Distracted by the stinging sensation from your lip you shivered at Dejuns icy fingers that was now hooked in the waistband of your panties, slowly pulling them down.

He watched as you squirmed beneath him. Watched how your eyes closed and how you sucked in your bottom lip, awaiting his next move.

You mewled when you felt the cool air hit your arousal and Dejun rubbed slow circles on your clit before pushing two fingers inside you, making you moan his name for the first time that night.

His fingers moved slowly but roughly while his lips softly pecked your hips, abdomen and the very top of your mound.

He was so gentle with you but his movements were still dominating, the mixture was absolutely intoxicating. You pulled him up missing the taste of his lips and before pressing his mouth on yours he caressed your cheek,

“Let me know if it’s too much okay?” He whispered against your lips and you nodded not knowing what you were in for.

Dejun locked your arms above your head and used his free hand to remove his boxers before entering you, already finding a rhythm to his thrusts. You threw your head back and moaned his name yet again as he slammed in and out of you, his grunts and your whimpers filling the bedroom.

His hand stayed locked on your wrists as he used his other hand to knead your breast, giving you multiple sensations at once. You almost hated the fact that you were close to your peak and it hadn’t been more than five minutes of him inside you.

“God I really don’t wanna cum right now” you whined as he still pounded mercilessly inside you.

“Good thing I’m not gonna let you” Dejun murmured and just as you thought your orgasm had reached, he pulled out of you and rolled onto his back,

“Get on top.”

You listened to his instructions but before sitting back on his member you gave him a few pumps, finally able to see him squirm under your touch this time round. Dejun gave you a small smack on your butt, and you finally abided to his request and sat on top of him, the new position already bringing you back to where you started.

Dejun sat up to meet your thrusts as you rode him, and you found your hand tangled in his messy locks as the two of you practically screwed the hell out of each other. The kiss this time was filled with lust, filled with lip biting and exchanging of saliva as you felt your orgasm fast approaching and noticed Dejun’s pace was slowing down too,

“cum for me baby” Dejun mused as he used the last of energy to give you a few hard thrusts until you finally came undone and he followed quickly after.

It took about two minutes of trying to catch your breath before you finally rolled on the bed next to him and wiped the beads of sweat from your forehead.

“Yeah this...this was definitely missing in some of those novels” you turned to Dejun who had a smile spread across his face.

He pulled the covers over your bodies and pressed his lips to your forehead and cheek,

“Should we write our own novel then ?”

“Yeah, yeah we should” you smiled, closing your eyes feeling at peace as his warmness enveloped you.

[exosmutfactory]

Six Phases FINALE Pt 1

Originally posted by sefuns

Who knew it nearly took 6 months to win your heart, and 6 phases for Baekhyun to lose his mind.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3  P(1) P(2) | Part 4 P(1) P(2) | Part 5 P(1)  P(2) | Part 6 P(1)  P(2) —– P(3)  P(4) —– P(5)  P(6) ||| ♬♩♪♩ FINALE P(1)✓  P(2) (also on AFF)

networks — @supermwritersnet​ @/bbh-net

pairing — Baekhyun x Riley (OC)

word count — 28k+ (Finale part 1 - [19k] & 2 - [9k])

genre  — ceo! baekhyun, playboy! baekhyun, strangers to lovers, hurt & comfort (heaven knows they need that comfort), slow burn! kinda

[ contains: angst, fluff, smut ]

A/N: Buckle up, loves. Here comes a long one. ♡ Let’s go! (^-^)

•⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •

⏰🌹Six Phases Tag List: 🌹⏰

@to-all-the-stories-i-love @insta1010 @sorrowinblood @bellamendoza @bbhflrt @weirdoome​

I was unable to tag one of you so I’ll DM you from @candyfizzbyun 💗💗💗

•⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •

July is upon us before we know it, bringing forth more of the summer's blazing sunlight and smothering heat. Jenny's birthday is right around the corner, merely 3 days into the hottest month of the year. There's no wonder why she's throwing a party in a venue that has both a beautiful indoors and outdoors setting. The breezy summer-style dress code for the event is a given—and I plan to crash it with my wintry flare.

It's July 3rd, 90 degrees, and I'm strutting down the stone path leading up to the venue in a two piece velvet outfit. The wine color compliments my skin, hugging my body in all the right places. Between the bra-shaped, crop top that ties in the back and my waist-high pants with high slits to reveal my nude colored heels underneath, I feel like the baddest and sexiest woman up in this bitch.

"Riley!" Jenny beams the moment I step through the door, looking stunning in her light blue dress. It's a plain form-fitting dress, but nothing is simple about her wearing it. The light blue material goes well with the ocean hue of her eyes. The sleeveless, spaghetti-strapped fabric that wraps around her beautifully is the shortest dress I've ever seen on her—and Jongdae should feel like the luckiest man alive to see her like this all the time.

Her makeup is done perfectly, highlighting the softness of her round face and sharpening the gaze in her oval eyes. She nearly runs someone over when she comes barreling my way in her black heels with a drink in her hand.

I laugh at her excitement, accepting her hug without hesitation. "Hey, Jen."

"Hey," She smiles, pulling back a little to look at me. "You're early."

A little grin forms on my face; if only she knew. "I didn't want to risk any traffic jams," I explain, smiling more. She's practically buzzing with happiness.

"Ah," She nods, pursing her lips. "Maybe I should have chose a different time-"

"Hey," I place my hand on her shoulder, giving her a look. "Relax. Everything will be fine."

She sighs but nods, her owl-shaped, dangling-earrings sparkling prettily under the warm lights. "I hope no one else gets stuck."

"They won't," I shake my head, adding cheekily, "Especially Chanyeol, he drives like a madman."

"That big oaf," She mutters, a smile back on her face. Her blue eyes meet mine before she takes my hands between hers. "Come, I want to introduce you to someone."

"Oh?" I inquire, raising a brow as she leads me further into the venue. "This isn't one of those matchmaking situations is it?"

"No. Fuck men." She immediately rebukes, fire burning in her eyes. "I'm not dealing with anyone's bullshit. Not on my day."

"Damn straight," I mumble, amused at the disgruntled expression on her face. Jenny and Jongdae are back together—if you can call their last fight a breakup. Witnessing him show up on their doorstep with her favorite chocolate and a new plant to add to their home was a sight to see. He must have done something else for her to react this way though. I can't help but chuckle. Half a year later and he is still tiptoeing around her. That Haneul must be someone significant. My lips downturn at the thought.

"Eunjung! Eunjung!" Jenny's loud voice brings me back to the present. "Ugh, where is that woman?" She grumbles, searching the extravagant room. More partygoers are starting to stream in, filling up the building with every shade of the rainbow and then some. My eyes drift over to the fruit buffet on the long tables in the back when Jenny's eyes widen. "There she is!" She smiles, leading me over to the mini bar on the other side of the room.

I follow her line of sight, my heart dropping in the blink of an eye. It's the same woman I've been seeing around Baekhyun since May. Her once long black hair is now a short brown mohawk, the curly ends perfectly framing her oval shaped face.

"Eunjung, this is Riley." Jenny smiles, gesturing to me. "The wild child I've told you about," She jokes.

"Hello," Eunjung greets in a low voice, smiling warmly. She holds out her hand to me. "I've heard so much about you."

I can only shake her hand and smile back, glaring at Jenny out of the corner of my eye when Eunjung is distracted by the bartender bringing her a drink. "Nice to meet you."

Jenny takes a seat while I survey the room, making sure there aren't any heads of silver hair around. Jongin won't be coming tonight, he's busy preparing dance classes for the elementary students that he'll teach for the upcoming school year, so I keep my head on a swivel. As much as I consider Jenny one of my best friends, her ties with a certain someone cannot be ignored after what happened the last time we went to a party. 

"How's Miss Eunae?" Jenny's question catches my attention, pulling me back into their conversation.

"She won second place in a dance competition last month." 

"Really?!" Jenny gasps and I stiffen.

"Yeah, I couldn't make it." Eunjung smiles sadly, swirling the melting ice in her drink. "Thankfully her girlfriend could. And Baekhyun too."

"Wait," I interrupt, feeling wary when both their eyes focus on me. "You have a twin?"

"Yes. About my height, long black hair." Eunjung sets down her empty glass on the counter. "You might have seen her around before, that woman can't sit still to save her life."

"She has a girlfriend?"

Eunjung and Jenny share a brief, knowing glance before turning back to me. "Yes." Eunjung smiles.

I clear my throat, avoiding their dancing eyes. "Good for her."

"They've been together since high school." Jenny nudges me, a shit eating grin on her face.

"I'll be surprised if they marry before you and Jongdae though," Eunjung raises her hand to get the bartender's attention again. "Chaeyoung is always working overseas."

My chest vibrates. I pull my phone out of my secret breast pocket, tuning out the rest of their conversation.

*

Sat, 07/03 - 7:30pm

Heartbreaker 😑💔😄

Y'all ready?

//

Earth shaker 😝💞😊

Ready as I'll ever be!

//

Heartbreaker 😑💔😄

Kyungsoo?

//

Cake master 🤗🍰🙏🏼

You owe me for this shit

//

♡ ♡ ♡ R ♡ ♡ ♡

I promise to help you bake in his place

\\

…

\\

As long as Dae and Yeol pick up the groceries :')

\\

Cake master 🤗🍰🙏🏼

Chanyeol delivers and Jongdae unpacks

//

I don't trust his clumsy ass anywhere near my produce

//

♡ ♡ ♡ R ♡ ♡ ♡

🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣

\\

Heartbreaker 😑💔😄

😂

//

Earth shaker 😝💞😊

Hey!

//

♡ ♡ ♡ R ♡ ♡ ♡

Ready guys?

\\

Cake master 🤗🍰🙏🏼

Yes

//

Heartbreaker 😑💔😄

Yeah

//

Earth shaker 😝💞😊

Mmhm >:(

//

♡ ♡ ♡ R ♡ ♡ ♡

Let's go 🤫🎂🚚💨✨🥰

\\

*

I can't help but chuckle, pocketing my phone. When I look up, Jenny is the only one sitting at the counter. "Hey," I frown, noticing the sad look on her face. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," She mumbles.

"Come on," I rest my hand on her arm, trying to catch her eye. "I can't let the birthday girl mope. You can tell me."

A smile quirks at her lips. "I just…" She sighs, turning to me. "I can't believe Jongdae is busy with work today."

"Awe," mimicking her poked out bottom lip, I nudge her softly. "Well, I guess you're just stuck with me—Deal with it."

"Riley!"

I burst out into laughter, back hugging her when she playfully pushes me away. "Hey, don't lose hope, yeah? He might surprise you."

"No he won't," She mumbles, full on pouting now. "He never surprises me."

"Well," Making eye contact with a certain mischievous brunette on the other side of the room, I tap her shoulder. "Maybe that will change today."

Jenny turns her head and gasps, leaping off of her bar stool. "Chanyeol? Kyungsoo? Jongdae?!?!?!?!"

Everyone in the room watches on with smiles on their faces, but Jongdae's is the brightest of all. "Hey, babe," He beams, opening his arms.

Jenny sprints over to him, colliding so hard with his body that she almost sends them both to the floor. But Jongdae takes it all in stride, holding her close while bellowing that signature laugh of his.

Smiling at them, I quickly walk over to help Kyungsoo and Chanyeol roll in the food cart. "Hey guys, everything okay?"

"We made it all in one piece," Kyungsoo mutters, glancing at the tall dome plate cover. "The cake too."

"Three different chocolates?"

"Mmhm."

"Perfectly symmetrical?"

"Yep," Yeol chimes in.

I grin, "She's going to love it."

"She's going to love you, you mean." Chanyeol sets his shining eyes on me. "How did you even know all this?"

I give him a small, secretive smile, "I have my resources." His grin only widens. "Did the gifts come in today?"

Kyungsoo nods, "Right on time."

"The delivery man showed up just as we were packing the cake into the back of the truck," Chanyeol chuckles, nearly tripping over the edge of a carpet. Kyungsoo and I look at him with our respective wide and narrowed eyes.

"Huh," I purse my lips, nodding in approval. "Now that is some high class two-day shipping." They both hum in agreement, Kyungsoo straightening out the table cloth before they begin to set the cake onto the round table.

"You guys good?" I look between them when they succeed in placing it down. Thank god for that; if that cake falls to the floor that's all our necks.

Kyungsoo nods, "Go on." He gives me a look that's hard to identify. "He's coming too."

"Oh," My heart leaps at the thought. Oh. Shit. He's coming. I should have expected as much, but to actually hear it makes it ten times more real... Shit. "I-Imma just…" I point behind me to the backdoor, slowly walking backward. "You know."

They nod, Chanyeol's eyes holding a hint of sadness. "It's okay. We got everything covered."

"Thank you," I breathe, smiling apologetically. Spinning on my heel, I hurry as fast as my high heels allow to the door. With one last glance back to make sure Jenny is okay, I slip out into the summer night.

Music from within the venue spreads out into the backyard, but it's much quieter out here. I survey the area, making sure no one else is around. Not that I am against anyone being outside, I've just had enough social interaction for one evening… and the night has barely begun.

Sighing to myself, I walk further out onto the patio, my lips quirking up at the light blue cushions on the chairs. Jenny planned this event to the Tee, huh? I chuckle, sighing softly.

The deck is a nice light gray shade, contrasting against the black base of the table and lounge chairs. Running my eyes over them, I hum, choosing to lean against the table instead.

Pain buds in my chest when my thoughts wander. I shouldn't care—I really shouldn't but… Even after everything. Even after all this time, it hurts to think of him with anyone else. The thought of him holding someone in his arms, in his home, in his heart… It crushes me to the core. It eats me up on the inside. It keeps me up at night.

I shouldn't care, yet every time I hear his name, every time I see his face... I go back to that January night, and I regret it every single time.

No matter how hard I try, my head is constantly full of 'what ifs.' What if I stayed? What if he was willing to change? What would we be right now if I hadn't walked away? 

I love—I loved Baekhyun with all my heart…

Can I really move on from this? Will I ever wake up one day and not imagine his sleeping face next to mine?

He could still have someone already for all I know, but for tonight… I rather tell myself that he is alone.

Leaning my elbows on the patio table, I watch the sunset, admiring the pink and orange hues streaking across the blue sky.

"You're staring."

"I love admiring art."

"So I'm an object now?"

The unmistakable love in his sparkly brown eyes… "You are the source," He pauses, holding my heart in his warm smile, "Of my love and affection."

My heart squeezes in earnest. God… why does this hurt so much? Why do his words linger in my mind and actions take hold of my heart? When will it end? When will it fucking end—

"Miss?" A low, raspy voice startles me.

I spin around, staring at the culprit with narrowed eyes. They widen as I take in the man in front of me.

The first thing I notice is his sharp jawline, leading up to his thin lips that curl up at the ends, reminding me a little of Jongdae. My eyes trail up further, taking in his tall nose with a rounded tip, his prominent cheekbones and narrow eyebrows. His slicked back, brown hair shows his broad forehead, and then—

His eyes…

They are the darkest shade of brown that I've ever seen, their almond shape perfectly suiting the rest of his face. They appear black in the dim light of the setting sun. Looking into them has me feeling many things, wondering what story those dark pools of molten hot coffee hold. 

"Are you alright?" He asks, his low voice in a husky tone that I'm slowly getting used to hearing… until I feel the drop that lands on my cheek.

"Oh—yeah!" I inwardly curse, hastily rubbing the tear from my cheek. "I-It's just, you know... allergies."

He nods and I cringe on the inside because I know he can tell that I'm completely bullshitting him right now. "What are you doing out here?" He inquires, tilting his head. His tone of voice isn't judging or hostile, it's more… caring. And sweet. I wish I could read his eyes though...

"Needed a breather," I shrug, repositioning myself in a more attractive manner. I am not about to let some stranger see me hanging out back here like a socially awkward potato on top of everything else—I refuse. "You?"

"Business call," He murmurs distractedly, repocketing his vibrating phone.

"Oh," I inwardly roll my eyes. Right. As if I don't have enough business men in my life.

"The Tech team found a corrupted file," He sighs, checking his expensive gold watch. "They don't know how bad it is yet… The film might have to be delayed."

Film? I perk up at that. "You help film movies?"

He smiles, glancing up at me, a lock of hair falling over his eye. "I'm the director."

A very casual one at that; I note, taking in his outfit. He's decked out in a light blue denim jacket and a white t-shirt, but I know those aren't cheap. Nope, I've seen enough of Baekhyun's cotton shirts to—

"What's the theme?" I blurt out, curling my hand into a fist as I lean further back on the table. "Classified information?" I raise a brow, smirking at his speechless face.

"Aish…" He closes his mouth, smiling a little. "Something like that."

"Eh," I shrug, smiling softly. "I can respect that."

The temperature suddenly starts to drop. A chilly wind blows, ruffling the ends of his hair. The scent of something I haven't encountered before reaches my nose. Bourbon and vanilla; citrus and peach... It's hard to describe, but it creates an aroma that catches my attention.

"What's your name?" I tilt my head, my eyes widening at the sparkle that reflects in his dark eyes from the last rays of the setting sun.

His eyes widen before he points to himself. "Me?"

"Who else, silly?" I laugh, holding back a snort, a smile tugging at my lips at the sheepish look on his face. He's pretty cute, I'll give him that.

He clears his throat, looking away. "Jackson."

I fight back my smile seeing how flustered he is. "I'm Riley." A thought occurs to me for a moment… What is a business man—director doing here? This is an invitation-only event, and I helped Jenny painstakingly arrange the guest list... "How do you know Jenny?"

"Hmm?" Jackson blinks, flickering his eyes back to mine. "Oh!" He laughs, rubbing the back of his neck. "She's an old friend."

"Oh," My eyes narrow in the last rays of sunlight.

"We kept in contact after her and Yugyeom split," He explains, and the apologetic expression on his face has my eyes widening again. Did he just see through me? Uh—Wait.

"Oh my god, Yugyeom?—Kim Yugyeom?"

"Yes…" He trails off, looking me over carefully. "Do you know him?"

Do I know him? My reddening cheeks are enough of an explanation. "Not really," I laugh awkwardly, standing up fully. Alright, I've had enough human interaction for today. Between him, the discovery of Eunjung's twin not seeing Baekhyun, meeting someone who is friends with that tall guy I was drooling over months ago, and having to keep Jenny's birthday surprise a secret all week, I'm drained. Time to go—

A crack of thunder echoes across the sky, and then the bottom drops, rain drenching us in seconds.

Well shit… Did none of us check the weather for today? I rack my brain for answers, trying to remember—oh... Oh. Jenny… likes… thunderstorms…

The rain continues to pour, soaking my velvet outfit and flattening my hair without remorse. It won't melt me, but the venue is a city away from Seoul and if I don't hurry home now...

"Well!" I turn away to hide the bitter smile on my face, pushing off of the slippery table. "Time for me to go. Nice meeting you, Jackson."

"Wait-"

I puff up my cheeks, blowing the air out as my hair sticks messily to my forehead. Fighting the urge to brush it back is difficult, but if there's one thing I know about my hair when it's wet, it's the agony that comes with ruffling it up. I rather not cry while detangling it when it's air dried later—

A yank on my arm makes me yelp, my head slamming into something hard when thunder cracks across the sky again, followed by the horrifying crackle of lightning. My head snaps up, eyes squinting against the onslaught of rain. I can barely make out Jackson's face, his features twisted in concern with his hair mattered to his forehead like a mop. The sheer amount of fear in his wide eyes has me more than confused. I take a look around, my heart stopping right in its tracks.

The doorknob of the back door sizzles, steam floating from it in a cloud of smoke. The crack from a lightning bolt visible as the rain washes the spark away.

My face pales when I look back up at the man in front of me.

Jackson steps back, steading me with his hands on my arms when my knees buckle. "Sorry," He clears his throat. "I tried to warn you but-"

"Thank you," I mumble, moving away when I find my balance again. "That could have been…" My head spins at the thought, "Bad."

He nods with a concerned frown, worry written all over his handsome features.

"...Well!" I clear my throat, giving him a small smile. "Thanks again for saving me, stranger." I joke, my eyes shooting down when I feel something rough shielding my shoulders from the rain. "Oh-" They snap back up to meet his, "You don't have to-"

"Keep it." He shakes his head, placing his denim jacket fully on my shoulders. "You're shivering."

"I…" My face is so hot the rain does nothing to cool me down. "Thank you."

Jackson smiles, shoving his hands into his pockets. "No problem." He starts walking backwards, glancing up at the sky before propping open the back door with his leather boot.

"Wait!" I blurt, blushing all the way up to my ears when he looks back at me, having to raise my voice over the unmerciful wind. "H-How will I return it without your number?"

A shy yet boyish grin forms on his face. "Not here."

"Huh?" I blink.

Jackson smiles even more, holding the door open before giving a little bow and outstretching his hand to me. "Ladies first."

A dozen thoughts race through my head while looking at his waiting hand, the action so familiar my heart tugs painfully in my chest. Smiling my prettiest smile, I place my palm in his.

•••

I forgot how refreshing it is to talk to someone new. Stepping out of my comfort zone to get to know a person outside of my friend group—an attractive person at that.

Texting Jackson is a treat. He's a man of high intellect, giving me great advice with years of director experience under his belt. The most shocking thing is that he is only 24—24! Two years older than me. He breaks my dating rule of pursuing anyone less than 4 years older than me, but his maturity makes up for it. Age doesn't define maturity as I have come to realize after a certain someone.

He's super sweet too. We haven't been able to see each other in person since Jenny's party last month, but a day hasn't gone by where we haven't texted. And boy does he text—the most flustering things that is. Jackson has a way with words that makes my heart squeeze in giddiness and me hide behind my hand while peeking at my screen.

He laughs at all of my jokes; he sends good morning and goodnight texts without fail. If nothing else, he is a great conversationalist who would make an even better companion, and I can't wait to see him again. I have a denim jacket hanging up in my closet to return, after all.

A knock on my office door brings me back to the present. I blink a few times, carefully reading over the email I've been working on for the past 20 minutes. "Come in," I permit, glancing at the time. The sight that greets me on the other side of the door when it opens stops my typing in its tracks.

Ms. Kim Eun, the newly appointed book editor, steps into the room, setting off my internal warning signals. Her outfit matches the company dress code, that isn't the problem here. No, it's the sheer amount of dread, sorrow, and fear coming off of her shuffling body in waves. "You asked to see me, Ma'am?" She inquires in the most broken of tones. A fragility I know very well.

"Yes." Saving my progress on the computer, I beckon her over with a reassuring smile. "Please, have a seat."

She slowly walks further into the room, sitting down in one of the leather chairs.

"Ms. Kim," I start as tentatively and professionally as possible, lacing my fingers together on top of my desk. "It has come to my attention that you have been behind on editing the book."

"Oh..." She mumbles, fidgeting with the purse in her lap. "I-I'm sorry, I-"

"I understand you might have other obligations and factors outside of work," I continue, reading her steadily panicking face like a book, "But we don't have a lot of time to get this novel done. We're on a tight schedule here."

"C-Can…" Her eyes lift from the purse in her hands, still holding onto it for dear life. "Can you do it for me?" She whispers.

I let out a short laugh. "No." Her eyes shake as my face hardens. "You were appointed as editor 3 weeks ago, correct?"

She nods, fear glimmering in her wide eyes.

"Your job is to edit the book," I remind her, my lips pressed into a thin line. "That's what you get paid for, that's your responsibility."

"But-"

"If I could do it myself, I wouldn't need to hire you." Her bottom lip starts to tremble; she's about to break. "If you can't do the job, I'm going to need you to put in your 2 weeks," I slide the slip of paper across the desk, "In early. Unless you can get half of the book done by Friday."

"T-That's only 3 days," She gasps, her voice wavering. "I can't-"

"You've had nearly a month in advance to work on it as an Intern." My voice lowers, "I'm sure you have plenty of time to catch up in-"

"I can't!" She wails loudly, hiding her face in her hands. "I-I'm not qualified for this position. I'm just a high school graduate with inside connections." She sobs, the dam of her built up emotions spilling over. "I didn't even finish English 12 with an A."

My clenched jaw ticks. I know she isn't faking it; she's been off for the past two weeks. It's her lack of sharing this important information that is getting to me. If she isn't qualified to take over the editing position, why the hell is she—my eyes widen and then narrow. Mrs. Park.

Looking at Eun, I finally understand. Her bowed head, slouched shoulders, and quiet hiccups dawning on me as clear as day.

"My boyfriend c-cheated on me with my best friend." She croaks sorrowfully. "He said that I deserved it, t-that I made him do it from working late all the time." She runs a hand through her hair, laughing brokenly, her tears leaving a trail of inky black mascara in their wake. "My editing isn't good anyway."

Reaching across the desk, I offer her my box of tissues. "I know how you feel," I mutter, keeping my voice even. "You feel lost, broken and tossed aside as if a part of you is gone." She nods, sniffling while smearing the makeup under her eye. "You ask yourself how you will ever move on from it." Leaving the box on the edge of the desk, I meet her eyes again. "But you will move on." The conversation I had with Jongin in the studio that day comes to mind, quirking a small smile on my lips. "You will wake up one day and not think of them. As long as you want to. You shouldn't stay stuck on someone who has hurt you." 

Tucking the resignation document into a drawer, I turn my sleeping computer back on. "You are worth more than how they've treated you, but you have to decide that for yourself."

"O-Okay," Eun sniffles, wiping her face. A couple tissues fall out of her hand, but her tears have stopped.

"Good." I lean back into my rollable leather chair with a stretch, smiling softly. "Let's settle this. Make me a list of your strengths and weaknesses."

Her wide eyes snap back up to mine. "I-"

"Now."

"Damn, Kyungsoo, how many of these cakes do you need in a day?" I sigh, my hands cramping up. We've been at it for hours, baking desserts at his restaurant because today is a national holiday. Funny how he let all his workers take the day off and here I am handling enough flour to make me sneeze in Jongdae's place.

Kyungsoo doesn't even look up at me, continuing to knead the dough in his hands. "I'd give an estimate but I don't want to overwhelm you."

I'd dramatically flop down into a chair if I wasn't molding a ball of my own dough, so I just groan instead. "You're killing me over here."

"Who offered to help me bake in Jongdae's place?" He raises a brow, shaping the churro in his hands with precession.

"It was all for the good of Jenny's last minute birthday cake!" I whine, starting to place a hand over my heart until I remember the torment I went through last time I got cake batter on this floral shirt. "Have you no heart?" I pout, giving him puppy eyes.

Kyungsoo slowly raises his head and I quickly get back to shaping the fancy doughnut in my hands without a word.

"So," I clear my throat, smiling sheepishly. "Did Dae and Yeol deliver everything okay?"

"They were late." Kyungsoo neatly arranges his perfectly shaped churros onto a tray, sliding them into the preheated oven. "Any later and the milk would have gone bad."

"Yikes," I wince, reaching to rub the back of my head only to pause mid-way, stopped by the wet flour sticking to my hand. "I should have helped more."

"Chanyeol would have slowed down to not give you motion sickness and then the cheese would have gone bad too." He points out.

"You sound a bit grumpy today," I note softly, glancing over at him again. "Did Chanyeol do something?" Kyungsoo starts another row of churros, staring blankly at me as he almost crushes the long sticks in his hands. "Okay, okay! I'll drop it, no need for the third degree. Spare the churro's life, please..."

"I'm going to ban him from my restaurant, I swear." He grumbles under his breath.

"At least he offered to help," I mumble, setting the last doughnut onto the non-stick pan. "How many more you got for me?" I ask, dusting off my hands.

Kyungsoo comes over to take the tray off of the counter. "None."

I raise a brow. "That's it?"

"No," He slides it in with the baking churros. "I'm sending you home."

I frown, "Why?"

"You're loud, chatty and keep dripping flour all over my floor." He deadpans. "And you're falling asleep."

Gawking at him for a few moments all I can do is huff. "I am not-"

"You're gonna get cake batter in your hair."

I flinch, putting my hand down at once. "Are you really kicking me out right now?" I mumble, blowing annoying strands of hair out of my eyes. 

"You're fired." He wipes his clean hands with a towel and walks back over to turn on the sink for me. "Now go home and sleep."

"I don't even work here!"

He gives me a look.

"Alright, alright," I mutter, scrubbing flour from under my nails. "Fine. I'll be out of your hair-"

The chime on the door of the restaurant rings, capturing my attention. I crane my neck around to see who the hell is coming in here when there's obviously a "CLOSED" sign out front and it's freaking 9pm. My face pales at the black baseball cap and leather jacket figure stumbling through the door. I tug on the sleeve of the busy man next to me. Um, Kyungsoo-

They pull their hat off before they reach the middle of the restaurant, revealing a familiar flushed face and unmistakable silver hair.

Oh fuck no.

"I'm sorry I'm late, Kyungsoo," He mumbles, his head down while approaching the counter. "I got held up at the office and the traffic was-" His head snaps up just as I contemplate ducking out of view. "R-Riley…?" He whispers, his face paling. He looks like he's seen a ghost and I can't imagine I'm doing any better.

"You're late." Kyungsoo deadpans, busying himself with washing the used baking trays and utensils in the sink.

"I…" Baekhyun steps closer and I feel like I'm going to throw up. My heart isn't in my throat at this point, it's somewhere lost between my nose and my gag reflex.

"Have you been drinking?" Kyungsoo finally looks up from the spatula in his hands, his eyes narrowing at the lack of response.

Baekhyun's red face glows brighter under the harsh kitchen lights. He purses his lips, "No-"

"Where's your car?" Kyungsoo demands. "I'm not letting you drive."

"Kyungsoo, I'm fine," He rolls back on the heels of his feet, shoving his hands deep into his pockets. "You have an important client coming in tomorrow-"

"I don't care who the hell is coming tomorrow." Kyungsoo cuts him off, full-on glaring at him now. His normally calm voice growing deeper with anger by the second. "I'm not letting you drive-"

"I'll take him home," I mumble, shrinking in on myself when both their eyes snap over to me.

Kyungsoo frowns, "Riley-"

"I'm taking him home, Kyungsoo." I cross my arms, shaking my head at the disapproving expression on his stern face. "You have a huge event tomorrow, you sent your staff home, and your kitchen is covered in cake batter," I list off of my fingers, daring him to say another word. "His apartment is on the whole other side of town. I think we both know what's the best course of action here."

Kyungsoo stands there silently for a long moment, but I don't back down, merely arching a brow. "Are you sure you'll be alright?" He softens, not even acknowledging the other man in the room.

"Yeah." I smile, uncrossing my arms. "I know I'm a disaster with a knife but I know how to drive, Kyungsoo. You got to give me some credit here."

"Alright," He chuckles, smiling a little before shifting his eyes back to the man on the other side of the counter. "Don't cause her any trouble, you hear me?"

Baekhyun's dazed eyes widen, "I-"

"If you mess with a single hair on her head," Kyungsoo continues, lifting the butcher knife in his hands. "Say goodbye to your kids."

"I-I won't fucking!" Baekhyun tangles a hand in his messy hair, sucking in a deep breath. "I'm walking home."

"Oh no you aren't," I rebuke, rounding the counter.

He grits his teeth, spinning around on his heel, "I'm-"

"Yah, Baekhyun." Kyungsoo's deep voice cuts through the air.

Baekhyun freezes up, looking over his shoulder with wide eyes. "Y-Yes?-"

"Take this." Kyungsoo starts, slamming a couple bags full of food to his chest. "Shut the fuck up and let Riley take you home."

"I-" Baekhyun shakes his head, "I can still catch the bus. There's no need-" His face drains of color when he meets Kyungsoo's eyes again. If looks could kill, he'd be 6 feet under.

Kyungsoo turns back to me then, "If he gives you a hard time, call me, okay?"

"Yes, Kyungsoo," I immediately agree, fearful of his sour mood as well. Note to self: angry Kyungsoo is scarier than angry Jongin.

"Good," He grumbles but smiles, patting my arm before walking back to the kitchen. "I'll save some of the churros for you."

"Thank you!" I beam at him, waving until he walks into the backroom. My smile doesn't fade, my cheeks starting to hurt until I feel a certain someone's stare on the back of my head. Oh shit.

Slowly turning around, I drag my eyes up to look into the most beautiful puppy eyes in the world, my heart going into overdrive.

"Hey," Baekhyun whispers.

A sad smile quirks on my lips, "Hi." Sighing a little, I take a look around, hanging up my apron and retrieving my hidden purse from the back of a chair at one of the extravagant dining tables. "Let's go."

Baekhyun nods, following me out of the restaurant. I open the door and hold it for him until he reaches the doorstep. We may not be on good terms, but that doesn't mean I'll just let a door slam in his face.

…

I most definitely should have let that door slam in his face.

Shaking off my aggressive thoughts, I take a deep breath and power walk to my car, shivering in the cold wind. It's the middle of July and a tropical storm has blown in, bringing its cold rains and chilling nights with it. Trust Seoul to have these extreme temperature changes, I should have kept my ass back in the South.

Baekhyun doesn't say a word as we make it to my red Porsche. I unlock the car when we are a few feet away, rolling my keys around my fingers. "Hop in, Byun."

He climbs into the passenger seat and by now the silence is killing me, but I shove it down. I'm here to drive him home and that's it. No more, no less.

Sighing inwardly, I settle into the driver's seat. "Buckle up," I mutter, looking at him out of the corner of my eye. "You may be more likely to survive a car crash in your drunken stupor but I sure as hell am not getting a fine for your ass."

I swear I hear him mutter, "of course," under his breath.

"What was that?" I pointedly widen my eyes, looking directly at him.

"Nothing." He grumbles, keeping his eyes facing forward.

"I thought so," Making sure he's strapped securely and checking my rearview mirror, I stick the key into the ignition and pull out of the parking lot.

Driving to Baekhyun's apartment feels so surreal, for many reasons. Never in our relation—our previous relationship have I driven him anywhere. I never dared to get behind the wheel of his Audi, that car is too expensive. If I had wrecked it and looked at the cost to fix or replace it, combined with the look of pure rage that would be on his face from me crashing his baby, I would die. Bad blood or not, I rather not be on Baekhyun's bad side.

My heartbeat picks up the longer the car ride goes on. Fuck, it's getting harder to breathe. I literally have the biggest problem to ever walk into my life right next to me months after I swore to never speak to him again. Why did I agree to this? What was I thinking? 

No. No time for that, I'm going to drop him off at his apartment and continue moving on with my life. That's why I left him in the first place.

"...Riley?" He speaks up a few streets away from his house, his voice the softest I've heard in a while.

Nope. Don't engage. I tighten my grip on the steering wheel.

"Can… Can we talk?" He continues, sounding sadder by the minute. "Please?"

"We're ten minutes away, Baekhyun."

"I…" The bags rustle in his lap as he sighs. "I knew this would happen."

"What?" I glance sharply at him at the next red light.

Baekhyun looks down at his hands with the most pitiful expression on his face, tears building in the corners of his eyes under the bright city lights. "I knew you would hate me."

Oh my fucking—My heart squeezes painfully in my chest. I want to roll my eyes and launch myself out of the car window at the same time. "Stop bringing it up, Byun." I mutter, focusing back on the road. "It's a thing of the past. Let it die there."

"Yeah," He laughs, his voice raw with emotion. "Like my heart the night you left me."

I clench my jaw, taking a deep breath, inwardly cursing the hectic late night traffic. Come on, fuckers, I need this man out of my car asap.

"You don't even want to talk to me about it." He continues, growing more frustrated and louder by the minute. "You don't even want to see me-"

"Of course I don't, Baekhyun!" I snap, whipping my head around to face him. "After all the shit you've done I have every right to not speak to your smug fucking face again."

"Smug?" He laughs weakly. "You think I enjoyed what happened to us?"

"Yep," I chirp, gripping the steering wheel so hard my knuckles turn pale. "There's no other explanation for why you are in my car right now."

"You insisted for me to be here." He fires right back. "You break up with me, hang out with all my friends, then act like a cold hearted bitch every time you see me."

"It takes one to know one, Baekhyun." I jab right back, curling my upper lip in a cruel smile.

"Yeah," He scoffs, crossing his arms and facing the window. "I'm sure you know that very well."

"If you're going to be a whiny little bitch," I start, smiling widely at him, "I will put you out on your ass, Baekhyun."

"Wouldn't you love that," He laughs, anger coming off of him in waves. "You were always obsessed with my ass."

That's it.

Baekhyun yelps when I slam on the breaks, bracing his hands on the dashboard. "Riley, what the hell?!"

"You wanted to talk?" I make sure the curb of the street I pulled onto is clear before facing him with a grin. "Huh? You want to talk now?" Baekhyun shrinks further into the passenger seat when I lean over him. "Fucking say it to my face then, you bastard." I snarl. "Go on. Give your little practiced speech."

Baekhyun parts his lips a few times, making my rage raise even more—"I miss you." He mumbles sadly.

I blink, staring at him. "...What?" I chuckle, growing wary as he keeps giving me those kicked puppy dog eyes. "What the fuck are you on about, Baekhyun-"

"I miss you." He repeats. "I miss your voice, I miss your eyes, I miss waking up to your sleeping face next to mine." He takes a shaky breath, tears filling his eyes. "I miss your strawberry scent on our pillows. I miss your loving words. I miss you complaining about my random ramblings and shutting me up with a kiss… I miss everything about you." He drags his eyes back up to mine then. "I miss you so much I wake up every day and fall apart when I remember that you aren't there."

Sucking in a breath, I look away from him, my anger long forgotten. I… I don't know what to say. "You…" A lump forms in my throat. I have to bite the inside of my cheek to restrain my wobbling chin.

Baekhyun keeps his eyes on me, pleading with me with their sad, brown depths. He doesn't expect the slap I land on his pretty face.

"You fucking bastard," I mutter lowly, shaking in anger, the last of my sanity flying out of the window. "You don't get to come in here and say all this fucking bullshit when you couldn't even tell your fucking mother that you were dating me!" I scream, my vocal chords pulling harder than my heart strings. "You were dating me, living with me, loving me, fucking me-" I laugh, throwing my hand out to show off the car. "For a whole year. Then you come here with your pretty, pitiful little empty words and expect me to forgive you? Really? You really think so little of me?"

"Ri-"

"Did you not get it the first time?" I ask in the sweetest of tones, my Southern accent out on full display. "Huh? You told your dear mother about us then suddenly come running back after me? Did having her approval feel that good little puppy?"

Baekhyun's face burns a dozen different shades of red, but I'm not fucking done yet.

"Here comes the man who was so overcome with jealousy over my best friend that he pretended to fuck another whore at his party," I list off on my fingers, my voice growing louder with every word I fire at him."Here goes the man who accused me of fucking Jongin because I wanted to be left alone at a mother fucking party. Here sits the man—who had the audacity to cheat on me not once, but twice!" My lips curl up into the ugliest sneer, glaring at Baekhyun hard enough to kill. "And here lies the cowardly man who will lie like a pig in mud for the rest of eternity as far as I am concerned."

I'm huffing and puffing by the time I'm done, not even waiting for him to say anything before starting back up again. "You know I never and would never have cheated on you, right?" I ask, lowering the volume of my voice. "If I didn't want to be faithful to you, Baekhyun, I would have been with someone else. I don't pull stunts to be petty and shit. If you didn't know that about me now, you're a fucking idiot, and if you don't believe me, then I don't know what to tell you." I shrug, leaning back tiredly into my seat and keeping my eyes forward on the empty road ahead.

"I get that," He says quietly.

A chuckle bubbles in my aching chest. "Do you?" I raise a brow, trying to calm down. "Do you understand how stupid it is to cheat on someone just because you're feeling petty or uncomfortable in a situation-"

"I never cheated on you."

"Ha!" I bark out a laugh. "And I don't have 4C hair." Rolling my eyes, I throw my hands up. "What? So that model at the photoshoot and the lipstick stain on the collar of your shirt wasn't you cheating? Are you serious?"

"Yes."

"Really? You really are going to deny-"

"Melody tripped over a sewage drain and that model forced herself onto me." He states firmly. "Neither was consensual or intentional."

Both my brows raise. "Huh. You know, it's real funny how you have an explanation for that now." I roll down my window to cool off, leaning my elbow onto the window seal and my chin in my palm before turning to him again. "Where was this energy months ago?" 

Baekhyun nods. "You're right. I am a coward," He admits, stopping me dead in my tracks. "Dumb enough to not say anything and dumb enough to think that you'd figure it out because I…" He trails off, biting his lips before those teary brown eyes lock onto mine again. Taking my breath away with the endless storm of emotions swirling within them. "With you, I'm like an open book. You always saw right through me, so I thought… I thought I didn't have to say anything," His head drops, looking down at the neat bags sitting at his feet. "And when I did, it was too late."

My eyes narrow. "How do I know you aren't bullshtting me?"

"I have nothing left to lose," He shrugs, smiling sadly.

Anger flares up in me again. "What is that supposed to mean-"

"I already lost you."

My mouth snaps shut, a feeling I haven't felt in months squeezing my heart in earnest.

"Everything you said was true," He mumbles. "All of it. The secrets, the lies-"

"And what makes you say that?"

His ears burn brighter than the red handprint on his cheek. "I'm seeing a therapist."

"Oh—Shit..." A wave of white hot shame falls over me. "Baekhyun, I-I'm sorry-"

"No." He shakes his head before bending down, the paper bags rustling in his grasp. "Don't. You said nothing but the truth."

"That still doesn't make it okay…" I rub the back of my neck, cursing myself inwardly for my anger. I hadn't meant to go off on him, that wasn't my intention—

"It's only fair," He mutters, shrugging weakly. "I've said worse to you."

"I…" I can't help but sigh, at a loss for words. "...I'm proud of you, seeing a therapist takes a lot of courage and self awareness."

"Thank you."

"I'm glad you're doing okay," I mumble.

Baekhyun stiffens up. Suddenly the atmosphere in the car shifts into something more melancholic.

"B-Baek?"

He lifts up his head, revealing his tear-stained face to me. "You think so?"

My heart clenches in anguish. "Baekhyun-"

"After everything you…" His voice breaks. "You think I'm fine? You think I'm okay?" Tears dampen the long strands of silver hair dangling in his eyes. "I haven't slept. I haven't eaten. I haven't breathed—I haven't lived since the day you left." He croaks, sucking in a breath. "So if you think that I am okay, I am not."

I have nothing else to say after that. What can I even say...?

Feeling tears form in my own eyes, I turn the car back on. My mom always taught me that if you don't have anything nice to say, don't say nothing at all. And after I slapped him and said all of those things…

I pull off of the curb, hiding my tears away from him. There's nothing I can do but take him home and hope that in the distant future… In a brand new life… He can forgive me for everything I've done to him and move on too.

The rest of the ride is spent in silence. No radio. No cars zooming past. The only thing I hear is his quiet sniffles and the cry of my wheezing heart.

"Thanks for taking me home," He mumbles in the softest of tones, mumbling more to his scuffed up sneakers than to me.

"No problem," I say softly, reaching out to place my hand on his shoulder only to pause, gripping the steering wheel again. "Make sure to take some Advil from the third cabinet on the right, okay?"

Baekhyun nods, hiding under the strands of his messy hair. He scares the hell out of me when his head suddenly shoots up again.

"Baek…?" I whisper, not sure what to do as he starts leaning in. He reveals his face to me up close for the first time in months. Heart-wrenching features that I know so well. The droopy shape of his brown eyes, the soft slope of his button nose, the cute little mole on top of his soft pink, thin lips that are pursed in concentration. For what? I have no idea. "Baekhyun-"

He slams his hand down on the dashboard, making me flinch. "Spider," He mutters, opening his hand to reveal its creepy squished body. I shiver at the sight. "I don't want you getting into a wreck. I know how you hate-" He sighs loudly, shaking his head. "Never mind…"

Yeah… I gulp, forcing a smile. Never mind.

"Travel safely, okay?" He takes his bags of food and steps out of the car, moving to close the door only to pause, meeting my eyes from under the bright city lights. "Goodnight, Riley."

It takes everything in me not to break down right there and then. "Good-" My lips wobble. I clear my throat, brushing my hair back before daring to look into his dull brown eyes again. "Goodnight, Baekhyun."

He smiles so small and sadly, making my heart weep when he closes the door and walks off to enter his apartment building.

I sit there for a few moments, staring out at the busy street ahead. It's so funny… This empty feeling in my chest. It's… It's like I never left…

•••

It's unfair… how much your heart hurts when you're stuck on someone. Realizing that no matter how many times they've hurt you, your broken heart still beats for them… and only them.

No matter how hard I try to deny it, the heart doesn't lie…

Baekhyun… is still a part of me. His scent may have faded, his t-shirts and hoodies are cleared out from my room… but the memory of him lives on in my heart. And I can't get rid of him without breaking myself completely and reforming a "perfect mold" to fit myself in.

Ha… funny how that works. 7 months of moving on has led up to this. Nothing. 7 months, 12 months, or 30 years, Baekhyun's scent can wash off of my skin, but the rest of the world won't let me break the two of us apart. If I am my brain, he is my heart. And you can't live without that muscle pumping steadily in your aching chest.

It's so unfair… because I'm trying my hardest to move on with someone else.

It takes me forever to get ready for my date tonight, and when I do… Something tells me to cancel it. But I can't. Jackson will be busy for the next month and a half. This is the only time in his schedule where he can take me out on the "proper date" as he likes to call it. Which he doesn't have to, I'm not that hard to please. I mean for fuck sake, I haven't had an official date until I was 20. 

I'm not picky about these things, but I ended up agreeing in the end anyway. The sad puppy look on Jackson's face when I tried to decline going to a restaurant to just stay in and watch movies instead still haunts me. Those almond shaped, dark brown puppy eyes… Damn him.

Sighing softly, I carefully apply my eyeliner in my vanity mirror, checking over my appearance one last time and smiling at the result. My lips are the richest shade of red, dark brown, waist-length hair curled to perfection, and the crystal earrings I haven't worn in ages sparkle every time they catch the light. Perfect for my chosen dress for the night.

It's a little something that I've bought recently. A spaghetti strapped, black velvet piece with a cowl shaped neck that shows off a bit of my cleavage, form-fitting all the way down to the V shaped end of the dress. It ends high on my thigh, but I have no plans to go dancing tonight, (for Jackson's sake). It's just enough to make him a little hot under his expensive collar. Especially with the lace strings crisscrossed in the back that are the only thing holding the dress up.

A low buzz makes me jump, startling me out of my thoughts. I fish for my phone in the vibrating purse in my lap. I haven't taken it out since last night… The weight of Baekhyun's unblocked number in my phone is a heavy load... and I only have myself to blame.

My eyes widen at the caller ID on the screen: Him. And I know exactly who he is.

Biting my nails, I weigh my options: answer now and end up canceling my plans or call him back tomorrow... 

…

Would it really be that bad to cancel? No—I can't. Jackson thinks I'm a punctual woman and…

"Always so sweet for me," He murmurs lowly, painting my skin with the shape of his lips.

My breath hitches, mouth going dry as more memories dance in my mind. Skin on skin, hushed whispers, champagne painted breaths...

"Mmm you're so wet," He groans, grazing my clit with his teeth. "Making a mess all over me."

A knock on my door makes me pause, staring down at the buzzing phone in my hand.

7 months without Baekhyun… and it has resorted to this.

Fuck.

Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck—Fuck!

I power down the phone, toss it back into my bag, pull it onto my shoulder and launch myself out of my chair to open the door before I lose my nerve. The sight that greets me on the other side of the door makes my heart flutter, but…

"Hey," Jackson smiles softly, his dark brown eyes sparkling under the bright lights.

It doesn't take my breath away.

"Hi," I manage a smile, tucking my hair behind my ear.

"You look beautiful," He compliments, his eyes sparkling even more as he looks over my dress before meeting my eyes again.

My smile grows, warmth spreading over my cheeks. "Thank you," I mutter softly, laughing a little. "You're not too bad yourself."

He smiles again, gesturing to me, the shine of his thin gold bracelet reflecting the hallway lights. "May I?"

"Hmm?—Oh!" I gasp, noticing the red and black corsage in his hands. "Y-Yes," I smile shyly, my heart pounding when he holds out his hand to me.

Jackson gently takes my hand, carefully slipping the corsage around my wrist. The caress of his rough fingertips makes a shiver go down my spine, goosebumps left on my skin when he pulls away.

His outfit catches my attention. Normally I'd feel a little shameless for looking at him from head to toe, but after what happened earlier… I can use a distraction.

He's wearing a black blazer with a matching lace turtleneck shirt underneath that gives me a glimpse of his toned skin, making my breath hitch. A golden necklace with a pendant rests in the middle of his chest, making him look so attractive when it twinkles under the lights. And with the way his shirt is tucked into his stylish black jeans… Fuck me ten times over.

My eyes trail further down his body. He has on that expensive gold watch I saw the first time we met and elegant rings on his veiny hands. I forget to breathe remembering how it felt to be held in his strong arms...

Snapping out of my daze, my wide eyes dart back up to his, finding the sweetest of shy smiles on his lips and a pink hue to his cheeks. He just caught me checking him out and he's blushing. Adorable. Clearing my throat, I smile, feeling my own face heat up under his admiring gaze. "Not bad at all."

His soft chuckle makes me feel less embarrassed. Maybe he can tell that I'm nervous… but not what has me so nervous.

Baekhyun's tear-stained face has been haunting me all day and I barely managed to get any sleep last night. His small voice replays in my head and soft spoken words cover my skin. My face heats up and pales at the same time at the reminder of what I was thinking about not even 10 minutes ago. I had a memory of him going down on me for Christ sake! Looking up at Jackson's handsome face, I feel another wave of hot shame. Can the ground please open up and swallow me whole?

"Shall we?" Jackson asks, bring my attention back to him. He offers his elbow to me, waiting for me to lock my arm with his. Another smile forms on my face; I have to suppress a giggle bubbling in my chest. He's so sweet and gentle compared to all the other men in my life. Ugh, my poor heart is racing like crazy.

I lock the door behind me and wrap my arm around his, appreciating the firmness of his bicep as he leads us down the hallway. The taps of our respective shoes echo around the quiet hall while we wait a few minutes for the elevator to arrive. "I'm not taking too much of your time, am I?" I mumble, watching the floor numbers rise to avoid his gaze.

"Hmm?" Jackson hums, his alluring cologne hitting me when he turns his head to look at me.

"Your schedule," I elaborate, glancing at him from under my eyelashes. "I'm not infringing on your work time, am I?"

"No," He shakes his head, holding the metal doors open for me while I walk into the elevator.

"But you said you are in the middle of the most important part of filming and-" I stop, my eyes widening at the warmth on my cheeks.

"Riley." Jackson looks right into my eyes, his rough palms cradling my face. "You are not 'taking too much' of my time, alright?" He mumbles, brown eyes drifting over my features while his thumb swipes over the top of my cheek, leaving a blaze of gentle heat in its wake. "This night is for us."

My heart practically leaps out of my chest the longer I stare into his warm eyes. I break eye contact. "O-Okay," I whisper, smiling shyly.

Jackson smiles, taking my hand when the elevator doors open onto the ground floor. As we walk past the security guard in the lobby, I wonder how I look next to him… He's the same height as Baekhyun, more toned where the latter has softer edges. They both have sharp jawlines, but Jackson's cheeks are more chiseled than squishy like Baekhyun's sweet face—

"Ladies first," His low voice muses.

Lifting my head from my white high heels, I look into Jackson's eyes, realizing that his dark brown eyes don't hold the same tension Baekhyun's does when I am taller than him like this. My shyness aside, with my almost average height and tall heels, I'm a few centimeters taller than Jackson. But instead of finding that spark of insecurity I'm used to seeing in Baekhyun's eyes, Jackson looks at me as if I am the goddess who put the moon in the sky.

Stepping out into the quiet night, I look up at the stars, having to blink a few times when I see a pair of droopy brown eyes staring down at me. No. I shake my head, sighing in frustration. God, why do I see him everywhere I go?

We make our way to the parking lot on the side of the apartment complex. The silence between us isn't striffling like the one I've come to grow wary of over the past year. That piercing void full of held back frustration and heated glares...

A car unlocks in the distance, drawing my attention to a sleek black vehicle when it lights up. A Jaguar, stunning with it's cat-eye headlights and the way the engine purrs to life. The car is honestly mesmerizing, and it suits Jackson well, but my heart tugs painfully in my chest when he opens the passenger door for me and I don't see any red accessory detailing on the inside...

"You look stunning in that dress." He says when he climbs into the driver's seat, his low voice making me feel something deep in my stomach.

"T-Thank you," I blush scarlet, shifting towards the passenger window to hide my red face. It's been a long time since someone has complimented me so genuinely. I haven't felt like this since—

"Are you really that insecure?"

The memory hits me like a punch to the gut.

"You okay?" Jackson asks, his eyes shining with concern.

"Y-Yeah," I whisper, clutching onto my purse. My face hasn't cooled down since I left my apartment and I doubt it will at this rate. Between Jackson's sweet eyes and Baekhyun's teary ones that haven't left my mind, I'm royally screwed. "How's work?" 

Jackson hums. "It's good." He keeps his eyes on the road, pulling out of the parking lot. "The movie is coming along nicely."

Taking a few discrete and deep breaths, I rest my head on my arm, focusing on the low timbre of his raspy voice. "Did the tech team find any more of those files?"

"No." He shakes his head, making a left turn. "Thankfully those were the only ones," He smiles, glancing over at me; the twinkles of excitement and affection in his eyes is hard to ignore. "Now the editing team can take over."

I fight the urge to rest a hand over my heart. "The movie won't be delayed?"

"The movie won't be delayed," He confirms warmly, focusing fully on me at the next red light. His brown hair falls attractively over his forehead, casting a shadow over his dark and expressive eyes. "We'll be ahead of schedule. Everyone worked in advance while waiting for the tech team to sort through the files."

"That's good," I smile, turning my attention to our surroundings streaming past the window.

Jackson navigates us down the long Seoul streets, the city lights reflecting in his dark eyes while he steers the wheel with both hands. He looks handsome under the favor of the moonlight, the headlights of passing cars sparkling across his thin necklace. For a moment I imagine a future—an us. How it would feel to hold his calloused hands and gaze into his adoring eyes. What it would be like to wake up to his face in the mornings. That deep, raspy voice… I shiver at the thought, praying the traffic lights don't show the red hue I feel on my cheeks.

Soft and slow R&B floats from the quiet car radio, caressing my ears with its gentle melodies while Jackson turns his blinkers on. I hum, tapping along to the beat, a smile curling at my lips. It's a perfect song for a summer night like this, adding a calming atmosphere to the intimate space of Jackson's car—

"I love this song."

Baekhyun raises a brow, his eyes focused on the road as he turns up the radio with a smile. "Really?"

"Yeah." He has such a stunning side profile, I could gaze at him for hours. "I listened to a lot of their songs growing up."

"Your parents have great taste."

"Mm." The sunlight reflecting in his brown eyes has nothing on the sparkles of happiness in his shining orbs. "I guess you do too."

I sigh through my nose, shoving down the emotions budding in my chest. No matter how hard I try, memories of him continue to play in my mind. All our romantic mid-day drives and late night talks of a future we thought we had in store… Our shared hopes and dreams that went up in flames before our very eyes.

Next thing I know, Jackson is putting the car into park, the purr of the engine cutting off in exchange for the summer heat seeping in through the pause of the air conditioner.

"You ready?" He looks over at me, the urge to brush his hair out of his eyes hitting me full force.

"Yeah," I smile, curling my hand around the strap of my purse. The giddy smile he gives me in return is so damn sweet I want to cry.

Jackson steps out of the Jaguar and it doesn't take him long to round the car. He opens the passenger door for me before I realize that we've reached the restaurant.

"Thank you," I giggle in embarrassment, placing my hand in the one he offers me with another one of those adorable smiles of his. My heart skips a beat when he presses a kiss to the back of my hand while I step out onto the asphalt. If he keeps this up I'm going to have a heart attack over this softness. What the hell, why aren't there more guys like Jackson in the world? And how the hell has he been single this whole time with him out here sweeping me off my feet like this?

His widened smile and the way his eyes drift over my features has a comforting warmth settling over my beating heart. He leads the way to the restaurant, opening the door for me like the heart-fluttering gentleman he is. He's going all out on winning me over tonight and I'm loving every minute of it.

The smell of freshly baked lasagna and garlic bread has my mouth watering as we make our way up to the counter. I catch a peek at the beautifully arranged, round wooden tables under a romantic lighting in the next room.

"Reservations for Wang." Jackson's voice sounds more firm when he addresses the lady at the counter, a flicker of his director persona flashing across his face. If nothing else, one look at him and you can tell that he's about business—even for a little date like this. A first date too. It's hard fighting my adoring smile.

The receptionist checks on the computer in front of her and looks down at her clipboard, nodding with a polite smile. "Right this way," She gestures to the next room. Her black suit, matching bow tie, and crisp clean, white dress shirt add onto the expensive air of the restaurant. The food is fresh, the atmosphere is dreamy, and every surface shines brightly under the dim candle-lit lights.

The further we walk into the restaurant, the more I have to be sure not to let my jaw drop in awe. Everything about this place is magical, from the happily conversing customers to the beautiful chandeliers in the hallway. The receptionist leads us to a table in a more secluded area, the muffled chatter of the rest of the patrons coming through the velvet walls. "Your water will be out shortly," She sets the menus on the table before taking her leave with a bow.

"Allow me," Jackson murmurs, his words caressing my ear. His cologne washes over me when he walks over to the table, pulling out a chair and waiting for me with the most charming smile on his face. I can't hold my own back even if I tried.

"Thank you," I say warmly, humored and flattered beyond belief. The proximity of his hand to my bare shoulders has a pleasant shiver going down my spine. A flush forms on my face. The man has done nothing but be a gentleman and I'm over here yearning for his touch like a giddy teenager.

Jackson's scent hits me once again when he moves to take his seat. The minty smell of aftershave and a hint of his own unique manly scent has me damn near drooling and we haven't even had appetizers yet. My stomach is building tension and I doubt it has anything to do with the menu.

"How was your day?" He inquires.

I startle out of my horny musings like a cat doused in cold water. Oh shit. "It was alright," I laugh nervously, trying to keep my voice from wavering into that annoying raspy tone it gets when I'm not careful enough. "I turned in my final assignments and am awaiting my test results for the semester." 

A waiter comes to take our order, sparing me a few minutes from having to explain myself. I'm struggling to find words here. What am I supposed to say? "Oh yeah, I spent all day daydreaming about my heartbroken ex and the steamy sex we used to have." I'd die of embarrassment so damn fast. I'm appalled at myself.

"What are you studying?" His dark brown eyes are back on me when the waiter walks away. A flutter stutters in my chest under his attentive gaze.

"Business," I resist the urge to rest my chin on my palm, choosing to swirl my fork around my salad instead. "I'm working on my bachelor's degree. I want to improve my performance at work."

His eyes widen, curiosity painting on his handsome features. "What do you do?"

I smile softly. He's adorable. "I'm the Director at Park's Publishing."

"You work in a publishing house?"

"I manage the 5th floor," I share, a smirk quirking at my lips. The last thing I did this morning before going home around lunch was inform everyone about our busy schedule at the end of the month. "I miss my editing days, not gonna lie." I laugh, poking an olive. "Sorry, work kind of stresses me out."

"No," Jackson shakes his head, smiling softly, "I get it. Taking a group of people under your wing is a big responsibility."

"It's sooo difficult." Sighing, I cross my legs, the back of my heel clicking against the leg of my chair. "Since I'm not directly in charge of editing, I have to guide others and keep reminding myself that I can't do the work for them. They have to learn on their own."

"Same," He nods, swallowing a bite of Italian seasoning drenched tomato and lettuce. "I have to fight the urge to take things over that the marketing and editing teams are supposed to handle." A flicker of annoyance crosses his face, making me smile in understanding. "Good thing I'm not Ceo," He jokes. 

I laugh, thinking to myself: Yeah, thank fuck you aren't one.

When the waiter brings our food, the reminder that I haven't eaten all day stirs in my hungry stomach. I take a bite of my chicken alfredo before it can growl, closing my eyes to hide how they roll back when the gooey goodness of cheese and perfectly boiled noodle hits my tongue. Holy fuck. This food right here is the shit. If I had a meal like this more often, I'd never complain again in my life.

I find myself observing Jackson while he enjoys his own meal. He chews with his mouth closed, neatly cutting his chicken with a fork and knife. The room is quiet with only the soft music playing overhead and the sound of our silverware clicking against the pristine plates.

"I want to wake up every morning to your sleeping face curled up by my side," Baekhyun murmurs, smiling shyly.The red hue of his cheeks endearing under the dim lights. "Your hair products cluttering our dresser and your toothbrush next to mine."

"You really like cucumbers, huh?" Jackson muses.

I jolt out of my thoughts, realizing to my horror that I've been leaning over the table, picking the cucumbers from his salad. "Oh! Y-Yeah," I chuckle, my face burning scarlet. From humor or embarrassment, I have no idea. Probably both at this rate. "You could say that..."

Originally posted by sefuns

August fades seamlessly into September, urging the leaves on trees to change into red, orange, and pretty yellow hues. Gone are the dog days of summer smitting everyone from above. Now the best season of all is coming out to play, and I am all for it.

Skipping down the street in my newest yellow skater dress and nude sandals, I check the GPS on my phone to search for the street that I'm on. Today I decided that walking around aimlessly for hours was the best course of action to clear my mind, and now I've found myself in a part of Seoul that I've never been to before.

The architecture of the landscape around me is something to behold. The windows are cut out squares that only allow light to be seen from within the rooms as the sun goes down, and the buildings are curved this way and that in the most intricate of ways. It surely is a view I wouldn't mind venutring over here to see again sometime. The lively chatter of pedestrians on the sidewalk is refreshing too.

Smiling to myself, my eyes catch sight of a particular building in the distance. I quickly cross the street for a closer look. It's a giant library that looks to be 4 stories tall, showcasing a huge bookshelf on the back wall from the view of the front windows. Highly intrigued, and lowkey smitten, I step inside for a closer look.

The smell of books hits me in an instant, the young and old novels arranged neatly in little bookshelves compared to that mountain of literature on the farthest wall. There's a small cafe serving up delicious muffins to my right and a huge sitting area full of the perfect lounge chairs on my left. Crowds of people make their way to and fro between the aisles without hiccup. There's so much to do that I don't even know where to start.

Walking over to the Romance section, I skim my fingertips along the book covers, aimlessly striding down the aisle until a thin, blue book catches my eye. Curious, I move to pull it out only for another hand to beat me to it. A familiar, slender hand.

I yank my hand back at once. "Dude!" Lowering my voice, I glare at the man in front of me. "Why the hell are you always everywhere? Are you following me around or what?"

"W-What?" Baekhyun's wide brown eyes stare back at me.

"I never thought you'd resort to stalking, Baekhyun." I shake my head, brushing past him, the silver buttons of his waist-length jacket cold against my sun-kissed skin.

"I'm not fucking!" He slaps a hand over his face, exhaling deeply. "I'm not following you around."

"Then why are you here, huh?" I keep my eyes forward, marching into the next aisle.

"Because—will you stop walking away from me?!?!?!"

I freeze, the sheer desperation in his voice roots my feet to the floor. "Why are you here, Baekhyun?" I cross my arms, shivering under the air conditioner overhead.

"Hannam-dong library extraordinaire," He utters, his shadow moving closer as I tense up. "You put it on the bucket list. The one we made together." Hope pours out from his every word, his painfully slow footsteps seeming to stem from the faint memories crowding his mind. "You listed every place you wanted to go and w-we, we never…" He stops when his voice cracks, clearing his throat. "You made a copy by hand so we'd always have it," He mumbles sadly. "I guess it's meaningless now."

Emotions grip at my throat and tears threaten to fill my eyes. I slowly turn around, snatching the book out of his hands. "Give me that." Flickering my eyes up to his hurt-filled eyes, I gesture to the sitting area with my chin. "Follow me."

Baekhyun follows behind me without a word, shuffling his boots noisily on the carpeted floor. I have half the mind to tell him about it until I remember where we are—in a library and in life. Biting my tongue, I plop down into the longest couch available, staring at his nervous figure when he doesn't join me. "Come on!" I snap, throwing a pillow at him that he's quick to catch. "Sit your ass down, I don't got all day." I grumble, opening the blue book. "I came here to read and I plan to do so."

A few moments go by, nothing but the quiet chatter of visitors and the coffee pot whistling on the other side of the room fills the air. Just when my heart drops at the thought of him being gone, a weight sinks down into the couch next to me. I look to see Baekhyun in a grey sweater, his jacket left on the back of the chair. His eyes are closed and neck is bare while resting his head on the back of the couch. Silver locks of hair messily dangle on his forehead, long eyelashes caressing the tops of his cheeks. I frown at the lack of fluff I find there, his mother's words a distant whisper in my ear.

Baekhyun makes me jump when he peeks an eye open, opening the other before blinking slowly at me. "I'm listening," He murmurs softly, keeping those expressive brown eyes on me.

My heart skips a beat. Smiling to myself, I focus back on the book in my hands, flipping to the first page and beginning to read aloud.

•••

Weeks fly by once mid September hits, endless clusters of colored leaves blowing away in its wind. The sun rises later in the day and sets at a different angle at night, casting warm shadows over my bedroom window that never fail to bring a smile to my face. Everything about this time of year puts me in high spirits. The weather is perfect for my velvety outfits and the annoying ass bugs are finally starting to go away. It's a calm, homey fairytale land full of sweet breezes and mid autumn adventures.

I lean over my vanity while painstakingly applying my red lipstick in the mirror, smoothing it out with care. My makeup for tonight goes well with my newest party dress, a burgundy velvet, off the shoulder piece with a deep v neck. It has long puffed sleeves with fitted cuffs that wrap comfortably around my wrists and a matching belt to emphasize the hourglass shape of my waist. The thick material is perfect for early October, the nights beginning to get just the littlest bit colder.

Humming to myself, I carefully put on my gold dangling earrings, smiling at the reflection of my wavy hair. Just letting it air dry with curling irons in it for a few minutes ended up with the subtle result. I'm attending one of Jackson's infamous parties tonight as his date, not his seducer. Although, I don't need to get all dolled up to impress him anyway. Batting my eyelashes and looking intensely into his deep, dark brown eyes is enough.

This time around, I'm prepared for the knock on my door. Two months of various dates has sunk a certain time into my core. 10pm on the dot. Punctual as always. My red painted lips quirk up at the thought. With one last glance into my vanity mirror, I spin around on my one-inch, open-toed black heels, strutting over to open the door and whistling at the sight.

Jackson smiles, looking hot as hell in his black blazer and thin gold chain with no shirt underneath. His muscular thighs look amazing in his tight jeans, and with his brown hair brushed back with a few strands of hair attractively left on his forehead…

"You look gorgeous," He murmurs, planting a kiss on my forehead while I'm distracted by his two sets of gold earrings.

I smile coyly, tucking my finger in his necklace and tugging on it lightly. "You're not so bad yourself."

Conversations between us flow more easily over the past few months. I show him my sass and he throws it right back, making me laugh every time. His attractive mind comes up with the most astounding ideas and points of view. There are many different sides to him as well. His confident, professional way of handling business to how he likes to roll over on my couch to rest his head in my lap and look up at me with those dark brown puppy eyes. 

Things are easy—that's just how it is with Jackson. It's a nice change from the complicated men in my life. He's adorable and sexy all in one.

The clicks of my heels echo across the sidewalk as we walk up to the frat house, my hand wrapped around his bicep. The party is just starting to pick up it seems; a fair amount of party goers are streaming in the front double doors.

"I want to introduce you to someone," Jackson perks up the moment we reach the entrance.

"Really?" I bat my eyes at him, stepping closer when someone brushes past us in a hurry. "Well, I'm down for that."

He smiles, holding the door open for me. I softly squeeze his bicep before letting him go, walking into his alumni house for the first time in almost a year. Last December I was crossing this same threshold with Jenny by my side, can you believe that? A lot can happen in 10 months, and I can't wait for what's in store for me.

"Jackson!" A deep voice reaches us over the loud music and growing crowd. I can barely make out a figure under all the neon lights, beckoning us over. Jackson's cologne washes over me before I feel his arm brush against my back.

"Let's go," He takes my hand in his, a smile audible in his raspy voice. I follow his lead, swiveling my head around to take in the view of the house. Just as I thought, everything is impeccably arranged. From the mini bar in the back corner to the DJ booth, it screams Jackson. Charming. Intelligent. And expensive. Even with the clumsy party attendees stumbling around.

He turns the corner on the right side of the hallway, following the medium-build figure walking down to a slightly ajar door at the end of the hall. The chatter from within the small room comes to a halt when the stranger pushes open the door.

"Took you long enough, Tuan!" A high-pitched, bubbly voice laughs, their plump lips smiling in amusement.

The man we've been following turns around, smiling while 5 other pairs of eyes land on us. "Hey, man."

"Mark," Jackson steps forward for a bro hug, clapping a hand over the raven's back. He goes around to do the same and fist bumps the other men in the room before standing next to me again. "There's someone I'd like you to meet."

All of them smile, curiosity and friendliness coming off of them in waves—except for one.

Yugyeom sits with his legs crossed in the far corner of the room, smirking while leaning his head in his hand. I make a point to ignore him, shaking everyone's hand with my most polite smile. Their compliments of my dress has me blushing all the way up to my ears. Thankfully the dim lights hide it from view.

Jackson and I take a spot on the only available couch in the cozy room, sitting between Mark and another man with sharp cat-like eyes and a barbell piercing.

"Is this your first party?" The latter asks, swirling the brown alcohol in his glass.

"No," I smile, way too aware of Yugyeom's stare burning into the side of my head. I carefully open a can of beer that Jackson hands to me, taking a long sip.

"Huh," He takes a swing of his drink while I lean my head onto Jackson's shoulder. "Why haven't I seen you around before?"

"I have," Yugyeom joins in, smirking and wiggling his eyebrows at me from over the rim of his glass. My eye twitches. Yeah, I see why this little shit and Jenny broke up.

I quietly observe everyone while the night carries on, the faint bass from the music down the hallway vibrating through the floor. Jackson catches up with his "brothers," in the meantime, updating them on the progress of his film. My eyes lazily sweep over the well-furnished room, the edges of my vision turning blurry. I make sure that the next two cans of beer that I drink aren't open when they are handed to me.

Sometime around midnight, I loosen up, the buzz of alcohol rushing through my veins prompting me to lose my filter. Between BamBam with the plush lips playful banter and the juicy tales of Jaebum's romantic conquests, I'm positively beaming, chatting without a care with my legs draped over Jackson's lap.

Mark cracks a joke that sends me reeling, nearly falling off of the couch if it wasn't for the man next to me, wrapping a strong arm around my waist. I hide my face in the crook of his neck, taking in his vanilla scent. The hint of citrus on his honey-toned skin has warmth spreading over my chest, the image of his sweet, brown puppy eyes printed behind my eyelids.

I laugh until I realize how dead silent the room has gotten. Lifting my head, I look around before tugging lightly on Jackson's sleeve. "Hey..." I murmur with difficulty, growing unnerved under their piercing stares. "What's-"

"Let's call it a night," He mutters, not meeting my eye.

Snapping my mouth shut, I nod, wondering what I did wrong while he bids everyone goodnight. I stand up with the help of his hand on my arm, guiding me over to the doorway that seems to be tilting to the side.

"Hey…" I try again, focusing hard on putting one foot in front of the other. What happened…? Did I laugh too hard? React too dramatically? Is there a piece of fruit stuck between my teeth? I knew I shouldn't have had that parfait before—

Jackson pulls aside me to an empty corner shielded by large plants in the hallway. His lips part a few times before he presses them into a thin line. "You just called me Baekhyun," He mutters, clenching his jaw.

Oh. I sober up in a heartbeat. "S-Shit, I-" The color drains from my face the longer I gaze into his disappointed dark brown eyes. I can feel tears filling my own. "I'm so sorry-"

"It's fine." His stiff posture says otherwise and I've never seen such a hard expression on his features before. "I'll drive you home."

"Wait…" Resting my hand on his arm, I brace myself with a racing heart for the backlash I'll get for what I'm about to ask. "C-Can you drop me off somewhere instead?"

•••

The car ride into the heart of Seoul is stifling. I can't recall us ever being like this… let alone having Jackson angry with me. His grip on the steering wheel has his knuckles turning white, the clench of his jaw concerning me as well. I can only blame myself, swearing inwardly for coming out tonight. 

This wasn't supposed to happen… None of this was. The Baekhyun; the shy smiles; the longing. The Yugyeom; the drinking; the nerves... If I could go back in time, I never would have gone to that frat party last year. I would have stayed at Jenny's apartment, bonding over skincare routines and shitty tv shows. But no... I had to go out that December night, and now I am facing the consequences.

It's taking everything in me just to hold back my tears.

"We're here." Jackson speaks up after an hour of silence, nothing but the zooming cars and lively nightlife filling up the empty space from beyond the tinted windows. It does little to ease the tension in the car—it only seems to build when he pulls up to the curb, leaving the engine running.

A lump forms in my throat, making it hard to breathe. I can't even face him right now. By the cold look in his eyes, I know there is no use trying to talk to him. I can't even defend myself. There's only one explanation for what happened earlier, and it's the most shitty one of all... 

Baekhyun.

On my mind; in my thoughts; in my heart. The way his long eyelashes brush the top of his glowy cheeks and the world swirling in his sparkly brown eyes when he looks at me. Everywhere I go, I see him, feel him, and wish he was there… From the darkest crevices of my anxious mind to the deepest depths of my beating heart.

No matter where I turn. No matter how much I try. There is only one man in the world for me in this lifetime. There is only one name my soul cries out for… and it isn't the one next to me.

I swallow hard, my heart aching for Jackson. The telling shine of tears reflected in his brown eyes can't be hidden when a truck drives past, revealing the vulnerability in his dark eyes. I hate that things are ending this way. The pounding of my head and sour taste on the back of my tongue are only reminders of how much I've messed up tonight.

Working up my nerve, I step out of his Jaguar, ducking my head back inside with a tight grip on the door.

"Thank you," I whisper over the loud crickets and crying tree frogs, "For everything." Sighing shakily, I crack one last smile as a tear rolls down my cheek. "Thank you for showing me how wonderful life can be."

Jackson turns his head, regarding me with teary, fire-filled eyes. His throat bobs and he manages a small smile in return, nodding slowly. "The pleasure is all mine, Riley."

With a pounding heart, I close the car door with care, walking onto the curb. I look back over my shoulder one more time when I reach the doors of the apartment complex, watching him drive off with a sad smile. The quiet night wraps around me, bringing me little comfort against the bitter cold that I feel inside of my heart. What if I'm making a mistake? I just walked away from the only man who treated me the way I deserve… A stable, well off man for a broken, world shattering one.

A million thoughts race through my mind while climbing the stairs to his apartment, my hand clutching onto the railing for dear life. What if he's not home? What if I'm too late? What if he's finally moved on and I'm the only one still stuck in the past? Still stuck on us?

Tears spring to my eyes, making it hard to see the wobbly steps with my blurred vision, but I carry on, one step at a time. Something tugs deep in my chest—a gut feeling. One that has me pausing from the sheer force behind it.

Baekhyun is my home, and he is waiting for me.

I break out into a run, nearly slipping on the last step before I reach the landing of the fourth floor, swinging the stairway door open so hard it collides with the wall. My heels pound against the marble floor until I trip over something, slamming my head on his door. The resounding thud echoes across the silent walls and the door is yanked open within seconds.

His wide, shock-filled brown eyes stare at me from the doorway, with his messy silver hair and a white wrinkled t-shirt.

I all but throw myself at him.

Baekhyun gasps, catching me before I fall. "Riley, I-"

"No." I shake my head, hugging him tighter, my voice wavering. "You listen to me." Looking up into his brown eyes, I cup his warm cheeks in my cold hands. "I don't care how long it takes, I don't care how much my heart breaks." My chin wobbles, salty tears streaming like a waterfall down my face, but nothing else matters. Nothing can hurt me when I'm in his comforting embrace.

"If it's not with you, I don't want it," I breathe, staring deep into his glimmering eyes. "Do you hear me? You can break my heart a million times, and I can do the same." Swiping a tear from under his eye, I cradle his face in my palm, painting his vulnerable expression into memory. "As long as we mend it back together, we will be okay." I nod, looking between his wide eyes. "We will get through this." I state firmly, melting against him when he tightens his hold on my waist. "We are in this together. Okay?" His silence is worrying me… "B?"

"Are you…" He slowly reaches up, cupping my cold cheek in his warm hand, his frantic brown eyes searching mine for answers. "Are you really here?" He whispers.

"Yes." I watch the light begin to return to his tired eyes. "I'm here, Baekhyun." I pull him closer, squeezing him in my arms, his racing heart beating in sync with mine. "I'm here." My heart drops when he pulls away.

Baekhyun shakes his head, moving his hand from my cheek to take mine into his. "I'm stubborn, insecure, and possessive." He mutters, gazing right into my eyes, determination written all over his face. "I'm… I'm annoying, overbearing, and a workaholic."

I give him my softest, loving smile. "Well, me too." Slowly reaching for him again, I paint my name on his honey-toned skin with my fingertips. "Let's be fucked up together, hmm?"

"I…" He sighs, resting his forehead on mine, staring lovingly and worriedly into my eyes. "I don't want you to regret this."

"I won't," I murmur, tracing three little words across his collarbones. "If I do, we'll fight and then have makeup sex."

Baekhyun chokes. "You're terrible." He coughs, patting his chest, the red hue on his cheeks more endearing than ever before.

I shrug, smiling at him. "When it comes to you?" Sliding my hand up his chest, I tangle my fingers in his messy hair, hovering my lips over his, "I am many things."

•••

It's funny; how easy it is to fall back into him. His loving arms and secure embrace. Every day spent with him slowly mends the cracks in my fragile heart, filling them with the most everlasting remedy of all. Love.

Time is endless when I am with him. Moments become weeks. Seconds turn into hours. Being with Baekhyun makes any taxing and mundane task into a precious activity that I'd love to do again—just because it's him.

Our dynamic has changed, even the air around us is new. We talk about everything. We face problems head on. A few arguments break out sometimes because we are two stubborn individuals, but those aren't a problem now. No big fights. No tearing into each other. I may call him an asshole and he'll rebuke with that I'm being a bitch, (which I am more often than not,) but at the end of the day. When the tension is gone and our sad eyes lock from across the room. We work things out and fall more in love with each other, no matter the struggle we've been through.

—Like right now.

"Perfect," I laugh bitterly, taking out my earrings while storming into the living room. "Fucking perfect."

"Riley," Baekhyun sighs, closing the door.

"No. Fuck this." I spit heatedly, throwing my hands up. "You always do this bullshit. Every time I go out you have something to say. What is it, huh? Why you always got to be up in my shit-"

Turning to him, I'm met by tired brown eyes, his hands falling limply to his sides. "Can we talk this out?" He asks softly, eyes pleading. "I rather hold you than fight."

Still huffing and puffing, I stare into his puppy eyes and sad pout. Without a word, I march over to him, tucking myself under his chin and wrapping my arms around his waist.

"I get it, okay? I have no problems with you going out with your friends." He mumbles into my hair, kissing my head. "I just want to make sure you are safe. Call me, text me, send me a pic to let me know that you're alright." He pulls back a little to cup my face in his hands, staring deep into my eyes. "You're my baby," He whispers, brushing frustrated tears from my cheeks. "If something ever happened to you I wouldn't be able to live with myself. Please understand where I'm coming from."

"Okay." I mumble against his shoulder, hiding more in his vanilla scent. "...I'm sorry for going off on you."

"Shh," Baekhyun hugs me tighter, surrounding me in his warmth and tangling his fingers in my hair. "I trust you, okay?" He nuzzles in my hair, sighing softly. "It's the rest of the world that I don't."

I love him. I love him with every part of me. If I had the chance to go back in time, I'd choose to meet him every time. Even on days where I have to walk out of his apartment to catch a breather. Those cold nights where I stubbornly shiver on his balcony until he comes out to place his jacket on my shoulders. And the times I ask myself why the hell I'm fighting with him over which color we should switch his window curtains into again. Despite all the good and the bad. The happiness and earth shattering agony. I wouldn't change it for the world.

"Are you cold?" Baekhyun mumbles, bringing the back of my hand to his cheek.

"I'm fine, B," I reassure, ignoring the goosebumps that erupt on my skin. From his loving touch or the cold bite of the November air, I have no idea. Most likely both.

"You're shivering." He points out, already struggling off his jacket before I can respond. "I told you it would be cold today."

"I wanted to take the risk, okay?" I sigh, smiling into the cinnamon scented fabric he places on my shoulders.

"It's the middle of November," He murmurs with a shake of his head, tucking our joined hands into the pocket of his jeans.

"Maybe," I mumble in amusement, beaming at him and batting my eyelashes. "But you love this dress on me. Admit it." Today I'm wearing a royal blue summer dress. The weather may be shifting from windy fall to bitter winter, but that won't stop me from rocking this sleeveless, v neck, shirt dress with a tie around my waist.

Baekhyun's eyes shift away from the red crosswalk light ahead to look me over, taking his time with a little cheeky smile on his face. "Well," He murmurs, mischief shining in his sparkly brown eyes. "I can't deny that."

I giggle, ignoring the warmth on my cheeks when he softly squeezes my hand, leading the way as we cross the street. I've missed this feeling: walking hand and hand—our fingers interwtined and young hearts racing as one. Not even the chilly wind can ruin the mood I'm in—I just tuck myself closer to his side.

Baekhyun hums, wrapping his arm around me, pulling me closer when a group of children come running down the sidewalk. The shrill voice of their scolding mother has us sharing a knowing look, smiling shyly. Yeah, nothing quite gets better than this.

"Riley?"

I stiffen, that low, raspy voice shakes me to my very core.

Baekhyun's brown eyes shoot to mine in an instant. "Baby?" He murmurs, a worried frown on his face as he leans to my ear. "Do you know him?"

"Um-" I avoid his eyes, holding onto the hem of his shirt for dear life. "I- Uh-"

A shadow falls over us before a figure walks around to face us, and those dark brown puppy eyes have never looked so solemn. Fuck.

"Jackson Wang?" Baekhyun blinks, sending me into an internal panic. "Hey, man," He smiles, going in for a handshake. "Long time no see. How's the movie?"

Jackson's brown eyes stare into mine before he looks down at Baekhyun's hand. "Good."

Baekhyun frowns, retracting his hand, confusion written all over his face.

"Hey, fancy seeing you here," I manage a small, polite smile, my heart racing nervously when Jackson pulls the towel from around his neck, his dark brown eyes landing back on me. "What you up to?" I tilt my head, resting a hand on Baekhyun's back.

"Out for a jog," Jackson shrugs, the fabric of his black t-shirt sticking to his damp skin. His eyes track how Baekhyun reaches back to take my hand into his. "I was supposed to play basketball with the guys," He continues sourly, "But they blew me off."

"Ah…" I purse my lips, straining another smile. "I hope you all can meet up soon."

He nods, the clench of his jaw and unreadable look in his eyes telling me all that I need to know.

"Well!" Resting my hand on Baekhyun's bicep, I risk a glance at him, unnerved at the equally hard to read expression on his features. "Baekhyun and I will be heading out now. We have reservations to make."

Jackson merely nods, his eyes burning into the back of my head as I lead Baekhyun around him. "See you around, Riley."

Cursing under my breath, I shoot him one last smile over my shoulder, urging Baekyun to walk faster. I hold my breath until we turn the corner onto the next street. "Geez what a mess," I mutter, loosening my death grip on his hand.

Baekhyun continues to securely hold onto my hand and his calm, quiet reaction has me more anxious than all the fights we've had combined. "B-Baekhyun?" I ask tentatively, trying to read his side profile. "Are you okay?" The way his silence stretches out is killing me. "B?"

"Well," He mumbles, nudging a stray rock on the ground. "Jackson is nice. He seems cool."

Uh oh. "Baekhyun-"

"No no, it's fine." He shakes his head. "I see the appeal, you know?" He looks over at me, smiling sadly. "Sharp jawline, muscular, more manly than I'll ever-"

I pull him into the nearest alleyway for privacy before facing him head on, resting my hands on his chest. "You know I only want you, right B?"

"I-I do, I just-" If the kicked puppy expression on his face was for anything else, I'd find it endearing. "He's so well put together and-"

I promptly press my lips to his, pulling back after a few moments with a raised brow. "Better?"

Baekhyun's lips part a few times, the open expression on his face cute as hell. He makes a small noise and hugs me close, sealing my lips in another kiss.

After that day, the ice has broken between us—the last wall I had built up came crumbling down. Hiding from Baekhyun isn't needed anymore. The reassurance that we can actually talk about things instead of letting tension build is all I could ask for, alongside his love and time of course. If only I could be with him tonight.

Mrs. Park wanted me to attend a press conference or whatever with her out of the blue, saying something about it being "a big deal" and "very important" that I be there. So here I am, accessing my options for the night.

Three different outfits cover the entirety of my bed, each bringing forth a slightly different mood from the last. The first one is my trusty go-to, below the knee length dress. A simple black piece of material that's flattering for my figure without exposing my wild side. The second outfit is a basic black blazer, white dress shirt, and black dress pants—the bore of all boring clothing. Nothing wrong with it, but I'm not feeling really "plain and dull" tonight.

Now, the third option is one to behold.

A dress that is a combination between the two: a long sleeved, low cut, black dress with pretty lace for the left sleeve and solid material on the right that wraps over more lace underneath. The perfect mix of femininity and authority. I think I know which outfit is the one for me. 

Slipping into the warm material with ease, I grab my car keys and head out to meet Mrs. Park at the venue. The thought of sending Baekhyun a text crosses my mind while taking the elevator. Now that I think about it, I haven't heard from him all day. Where he at?? Is he still working late or did my comment about him never cooking a meal in his life hurt his feelings last night? If I wasn't piled up to my ears with paperwork all day I would have stopped by his office to have lunch…

Frowning to myself, I keep both my hands on the steering wheel, leaving my phone untouched in my purse on the passenger floor. Worried or not, I'm not even going to pull out my phone at the next red light. In a big city like Seoul, it's best not to take any chances, if any for that matter.

I navigate down the bright streets with ease, thankful that my GPS is cooperating with me today. Within an hour of traffic jams and watching out for jaywalkers on the street, I'm pulling into the parking lot of the venue. And with Mrs. Park leaning against the hood of her car, she isn't hard to find.

Making a three point turn, I back up into the parking space next to hers, not up for the hassle of dealing with gold digger assholes who will want me to hit them with my car later. Seoul or the South, the bullshitty ways of the road aren't that different.

"Hey," Mrs. Park smiles when I step out of my Porshe, dressed to the nines in her black pantsuit. She tilts her head towards the venue, the twinkle of her diamond earrings catching in the bright streetlights. "You ready to go?"

I walk around to her side to retrieve my purse from my car, tucking my hair behind my ear. "Yes, ma'am."

She smirks, a knowing look in her eye before locking her car. "Let's go."

Eyeing her warily, I follow her to the grand building, the clicks of our heels echoing across the pavement. For a moment the silence around us has me worrying if we are late until I see a red carpet surrounded by paparazzi in the far distance. What the hell?

"What exactly are we attending?" I ask carefully.

"A press conference," She doesn't miss a beat, glancing over at me. "Don't look so scared."

"I-"

"Smile," She continues, smiling reassuringly, "Just be yourself."

Sighing softly, I nod, preparing myself for anything. I trust Mrs. Park a lot, but if her cheeky son is anything to go by, I might be walking into something right now. And I have no idea what is awaiting me.

The clicks of the flashing cameras become more audible as we approach, a dozen cameramen throwing questions at us at once. I just smile, making sure all my sides are my best side while walking down the red carpet. Mrs. Park dodges their questions with ease, falling into step with me. We enter the open double doors of the venue without a hitch and the sight on the inside takes my breath away.

Floor to ceiling windows occupy the spacious hall with rows upon rows of velvet covered seats and a chandelier sparkling overhead. The stage at the far back has the first set of burgundy curtains drawn, showing a microphone stand. What kind of press conference is this? The amount of seating astounds me, let alone when Mrs. Park walks us right up to the front row.

I have so many questions to ask, but I just sit down in the seat at the end of the row, on the left side closest to the stairs leading up to the stage.

"Are we early?" I crane my neck around, watching other sharply dressed businessmen and women slowly fill up the venue.

"No." Mrs Park shakes her head as the lights dim down, smiling knowingly. "We're right on time."

Before I can reply, something shiny catches my attention out of the corner of my eye. I turn my head to face the stage, my eyes widening at the silver haired man walking out onto the stage.

"Good evening, everyone." Baekhyun's honey-smooth voice echoes around the hall. He struts over to the mic stand with a white microphone in hand, his Ceo aura and chosen outfit for the night taking my breath away.

He's wearing a sparkly black blazer with a black button-down shirt underneath, the first few buttons undone. The sleeves of his jacket have a glittery gold embroidery design shaped like a crown and there's a matching necklace resting around his shoulders, twinkling alluringly under the dim lights. His snug black jeans and heeled boots nearly have me on the floor. Pardon my French but—step on me please? 

I gulp, sitting back in my seat while Baekhyun commands the stage. He has the whole crowd wrapped around his finger with every charming smile and deep chuckle he sends our way. I graciously accept a glass of wine from a waiter and cross my legs, too busy admiring him to listen to a word he says. It's been a while since I've had the pleasure to see this kind of view.

Baekhyun continues to speak to the crowd, coaxing adoring 'ah's' and the occasional applause. I lose my sense of time the longer he gives his speech, idly swirling my drink around my glass. I've barely drank half of it by the time the event starts coming to an end.

"Everyone." Baekhyun's voice rings over the murmuring crowd, clasping his hands together over the microphone, a soft smile playing at his lips. "If I can have a moment of your time, I'd like to say a few things before we wrap up."

My eyes widen to the size of saucers when he says my name, holding a hand out for me to take. I look around, narrowing my eyes at Mrs. Park's smiling figure. The wink she sends my way tells me everything that I need to know.

Everyone else in the crowd starts looking around, some of them settling their eyes onto me. I take a final sip of my wine and slowly set my glass down in the cup holder next to me. With one last breath and a weary glance, I approach the stage, the clicks of my heels echoing around the room.

The closer I get to Baekhyun's beaming face, the more my heart pounds, butterflies erupting in my stomach. But the moment my cold hand is securely in his, all of it fades away. With Baekhyun, I know I am safe.

He smiles, looking me over with affection shining in his eyes. "Everyone, meet my girlfriend." He announces into the microphone, softly squeezing my hand and facing the crowd again. "She didn't expect to be here tonight..." He trails off, smiling sheepishly. "I'll probably be getting an earful later." He chuckles, joining everyone in their brief laughter while I shoot him a look that screams 'you're damn right.' "But for now," He continues, settling his sparkly brown eyes back onto me, "I have something important to say."

Baekhyun takes a deep breath, closing his eyes for a moment. "If it wasn't for her, I wouldn't be standing here today." He squeezes my hand again, flickering his eyes back open to stare into mine. The warmth and undeniable love swirling within them sends my heart into overdrive. "If it wasn't for her patience, care and timeless, endless bounds of love." He sighs softly, smiling so sweetly while wrapping an arm around my waist before turning us both to the second set of curtains. "I wouldn't be here to present the newest clothing line."

The curtains go up and my jaw drops at the sight.

A huge glass container stands in the middle of the stage, showcasing mannequins wearing various articles of clothing. Soft looking blue sweaters, comfy jogging pants, black leggings with white embroidery flowers on the ends, and short jean shorts. There are over a dozen different clothes on display with the letter 'R' scripted on the front in beautiful cursive, but what really captures my attention is the red dress. Front and center. 

The backless, sleeveless burgundy mermaid dress covered in sparkly jewels from start to finish, twinkling prettily under the dim lights while spun around on its high-rise platform.

"This goes out to Riley." Baekhyun hugs me close, making me grateful that I'm facing away from the crowd when tears spring to my eyes. He smiles shyly while gazing at me with those warm brown eyes. "The woman of my dreams and love of my life."

I stare right back into those deep brown pools of love, biting the inside of my cheek to keep my chin from wobbling. Not able to take it anymore, I cup his glowy cheeks in my hands, pressing my lips to his.

•⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3  P(1) P(2) | Part 4 P(1) P(2) | Part 5 P(1)  P(2) | Part 6 P(1)  P(2) —– P(3)  P(4) —– P(5)  P(6) | ♬♩♪♩ FINALE P(1)✓  P(2)

A/N: This was a mouthful, don’t mind me, I’m formatting the other 9k 😭💗

[jinx-jade]

Secret Dreams Chapter 3: Meeting Marinette Dupain-Cheng.

Damian was woken up from the dream zone like he usually was for the past eight years, by three sharp knocks on his door.

“Master Damian, Breakfast will be served in fifteen minutes. Please make sure to be up and ready by then.” Alfred informed him.

He got out of bed, moving towards his closet to grab an outfit. Once he had an acceptable outfit Damian went to the bathroom to shower and get ready for the day. 

He came out of the bathroom wearing a black turtleneck sweater, with a pair of dark jeans, black dress shoes, and a dark gray dress coat. His hair was spiked up into its usual gelled back spikes.

Leaving the quiet sanctuary that was his room, Damian ventured toward the loud morning chatter coming from the dining room.

“..hy do I have to be at some event planning meeting? Replacement is the one who works there, not me!” he could hear Todd argue. ‘Most likely with father’ Damian deduced using previous events as evidence for his claim.

“What’s this about Todd going to a W.E. meeting?” Damian inquired as he entered the dining room.

Bruce let out a sigh, too used to the children and their antics. “Jason, Tim, and Cass will be joining me at a meeting to go over the charity gala last-minute details.”

Damian simply raised an eyebrow. A clear question as to why.

“The people we are meeting with are Jared Stone, Penny Rolling, and Marinette Dupain-Cheng. Jared is most commonly known as the world-class rockstar Jagged Stone. Penny Rolling is a Jagged’s assistant and wife. Marinette Dupain-Cheng is most known as MDC, the designer for our gala outfits.” Bruce explains.

Damian nodded his head in acknowledgment. Being careful to keep his face blank as he was trained to do. After all, it wouldn’t do to give the game away just yet. Malak most likely wouldn’t forgive him if he ruined her fun.

The morning continued like normal once Jason finished throwing his fit about the ‘boring’ meeting he was being forced to attend. Alfred drove Bruce, Tim, and Cass to the meeting, while Jason insisted on taking his bike. Everyone knew that Jason was most likely taking another form of transportation so he could ditch the meeting if it got too boring.

Once they arrived at W.E., Alfred left to go pick up their gussets. While waiting for them Jason seemed to get bored already and started an argument over something pointless. Tim argued back with Jason, the argument moving back and forth between the two. This was common for them, most times they could be found arguing over something that will make no sense to anyone but them. It was simply the way they communicated with each other. It might not make sense to others, but it made sense to them.

Cass watched the argument in amusement. Trying to read in between the line to what they were saying. As difficult as it seemed to others, all her training at reading body language made it fairly simple to understand.

Bruce simply watches his children interact. They had all come along from where they were when he first took them in. While he might not say it out loud, he hoped they knew he was proud of them.

Their attention was pulled to the door as a knock was heard. Bruce got up and opened the door. 

“Jared, I’m glad you could make it,” he said welcoming them into the office. “Am I right to assume that these lovely ladies are your wife and niece?”

“That’d be a right on assumption” Jagged agreed. “This is my wife Penny Rolling, she’s also my lovely assistant.”

“It’s nice to meet one of Jagged's childhood friends, feel free to call me Penny.”

Jagged continues with the introduction, “And this little rockstar is my niece and designer, Marinette Dupain-Cheng.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Wayne. You can call me Marinette, my last name is a bit of a mouth full.” 

“Please call me Bruce, there’s no need to be so formal.” Once Marinette nodded her head, Bruce started to introduce his kids. “These are a few of my children. My second eldest son Jason Todd-Wayne, my second youngest son Timothy Drake-Wayne, and my daughter Cassandra Cain-Wayne.”

All the Waynes noticed that Jagged’s niece seemed no older the Damian, but according to the public, MDC has been a designer for the past six years. That would have made MDC somewhere between the ages eleven and thirteen, depending on her current age, when MDC had first started designing.

Marinette had smiled at them before taking a seat on the office couch, pulling out what seemed like a sketch, most likely to work on a design. The Waynes, Jagged, and Penny were the main holders of the conversation. Marinette mostly stayed out of the business conversation, only really talking when the conversation had to do with herself.

Everyone heard a noise that sounded like someone holding back laughter. Only to see that it was Marinette. There hadn’t been anything funny or amusing said in their conversation. No one asked what was so funny, only look in her direction for an explanation. Marinette had simply raised an eyebrow towards them until they went back to the previously abandoned conversation.

Their conversation was resumed until they heard Marinette say, “Mood” under her breath. All attention had turned to her, but she simply ignored the attention. The conversation slowly started back up. Looking in Marinette’s direction every once in a while.

One of the times they look to Marinette only to see her and Cass in some sort of staring contents. They watched for a bit before a smile appeared on Cass’s face.

“Can we keep?” Cass asked gesturing to Marinette, which made Marinette burst laughing. Much to the confusion of everyone else.

Realization appeared on Bruce’s face. “You can’t just ask to adopt people out of nowhere Cassandra,” Bruce said with a sigh.

“Keep?” Cass asked again with her best puppy dog eyes. Bruce simply shook his head, causing Cass to pout.

This interaction made no sense to the Waynes. Marinette Dupain-Cheng was certainly an interesting individual. They would have to ask Cass why she wanted to adopt Marinette later, but Cass's pout seemed to be the last straw as everyone burst into laughter.

tag list: @little-bluestar @redbullgivescaswings @stackofrandomstuff @meismu @maskedpainter @nyx-in-line @iamabrownfox @m0chik0furan @jjmjjktth @icerosecrystal @machichannx @a4-machete @our-preciousss @justafanwarrior @animegirlweeb @loopingtangent @buginetye @blueslushgueen @solangelo252 @officiallydarkgreek

[jayeray-hq]

How He Shows You Affection: Tsukishima Kei

Post Time Skip/Manga Spoilers!

Warnings: None All Fluff!

How He Shows You Affection Master List - Character Masterlist

This was requested by an anon who asked for both Tsukishima and Kita Shinsuke! I hope you like it anon. I have to admit I’m not the biggest fan of Tsukishima, but I hope I did him justice! 😭🥺, also huge thank you to @haikyuu-addict​ for beta reading for me you’re amazing!

He Teases You

You grimaced slightly as you stared up at the mug on the highest shelf of the cabinet pushed all the way to the back. It was going to be an incredible hassle to reach it, and a part of you wondered briefly if it would even be worth it to try. After all you had plenty of other mugs in your kitchen. It was just, that happened to be your favorite mug, it had actually been a gag gift from your boyfriend, and read ‘you’re my favorite pain in the ass’ written in his neat precise calligraphy.

However, to his shock you actually loved the mug, mostly because it was the absolute perfect size to make your favorite hot beverage in, something he’d later been smugly satisfied about as if that had been the intention all along even if you both knew it wasn’t. You’d been craving your favorite drink all day, and had been set to make yourself a nice hot cup when you’d gotten home from work, only to open up the cabinets and find your mug completely out of reach.

             Staring at it you had to wonder if he’d done it on purpose. It was honestly a toss-up with Tsukishima, sometimes he did things like this just because he thought it was funny to watch you struggle, and other times he just genuinely forgot that if he put things on the very top shelves you wouldn’t be able to reach without some form of aid. Usually you’d simply ask him to get it for you, even if he would spend a good deal of time teasing you about it, he never actually said no, and you’d learned to put up with the teasing after years of knowing him and being in a relationship with him.

             Unfortunately, Tsukishima wasn’t home yet, still at practice with the Sendai Frogs, which meant you were on your own. You considered going to get the step stool that was tucked away neatly in the hall closet, which was for these exact kinds of situations, but in the end decided you were too lazy to walk over and get it and decided to climb up on to the counter instead.

             You were a bit precariously balanced, but you figured it would be fine as you leaned into the cupboard, your fingers scrabbling for the handle of the mug that was just barely out of your reach.

             “Oya what’s this?”

             You’d been so caught up in your quest that you hadn’t heard the door open or you boyfriend’s arrival into the kitchen. His words startled you enough to make you jolt slightly, making you lose your balance a bit, one of your arms pinwheeling to keep you from slipping backwards off the counter. Luckily Tsukishima had always had incredibly quick reflexes, and he immediately stepped forward, his hands finding your waist and steadying you easily.

             “Clumsy,” he scolded, clear disapproval on his face as he gently tugged you backwards and helped you set your feet firmly back on to the floor, “Just what are you trying to do shortcake?”

             “I was trying to get my mug,” you told him with a huff, even as some of the annoyance you felt for him startling you faded away with the familiar nickname, one that was part teasing you for being shorter than him, and another part fondness after his favorite food, though it didn’t keep you from pouting at him as you explained, “Someone put it up where I can’t reach it.”

             “Oh?” he asked a teasing grin curling his lips, making his golden eyes glint in amusement, as he moved over to where you had been, easily plucking the mug from its resting place without even needing to stand on his toes to reach it before turning to you and asking smugly, “You mean this mug?”

             “Yes, that mug,” you told him holding your hand out for it, fully expecting him to hand it over.

             “I don’t know if I should give it to you,” he told you with a wicked grin, “After all you nearly broke your neck trying to get it, and didn’t even greet me properly when I got home I don’t think that kind of behavior deserves a reward.”

             “Kei,” you whined at him reaching for it, only to have him hold it up out of your reach, high above your head, “I need it.”

 He didn’t relent to your whining, only smirked in clear amusement as you stood on your toes trying to reach before eventually giving up.

 “Mean,” you informed him with a huff.

 “Calling me mean,” he goaded lightly, “And after I saved you from tumbling off the counter too. Maybe you should try asking nicely instead of just trying to take it from me hmm?”

 You huffed a sigh, unable to help the slight amusement that curled your lips, well used to his teasing and with a pretty good idea of what he wanted, the same thing he always wanted when he teased you like this.

 You stepped forward into his space and wrapped your arms around his neck and tilting your face upwards. He met you partway, his lips warm and soft against your own, even as they curled upwards clearly pleased.

 “Please can I have my mug Kei?” you murmured against his lips nuzzling your nose affectionately against his.

 He heaved a sigh as if completely put out by your request, but relented, passing the mug over to you, “Alright shortcake, but only this once and only because you asked so nicely.”

 You giggled at that, both of you well aware he didn’t mean it in the slightest as you stepped away humming happily about finally being able to get the drink you craved. You made enough for the both of you, feeling warm under the amused, fond gaze of your boyfriend.

 He Flicks/Pokes You in the Forehead

             You frowned in consternation, your arms crossed across your chest as you tried to make your decision glancing back and forth between the two choices in front of you, running your fingers over the fine material, and eyeing the pretty patterns. You couldn’t make up your mind about which to buy, and couldn’t help fretting about it.

             “Ouch!” you yipped in surprise your hands automatically dropping the scarves back on to the table and coming up to press to your forehead as you shot an indignant wounded look at your boyfriend who’d just flicked you right in the center of your forehead.

             “Kei,” you whined at him unhappily gently rubbing the abused spot, “What was that for?”

             “You’re worrying too much,” he informed you bluntly, a bored drawl to his voice, “Just pick one already.”

             “I just want her to like it,” you told him with a slight pout eyeing the scarves again, “Why don’t you choose if you think it’s so easy?”

             “My mother already loves you,” he informed you with a sigh, “So she’ll love whatever you get for her, because it’s from you.”

             “Even if that’s true, I still want her to like it and be able to wear it,” you informed him obstinately, as you picked up the two pretty scarves you’d been eying again and held them out toward him, “And you could try being a little more helpful Kei, she’s your mom after all, shouldn’t you know her best? Why don’t you pick?”

             Your boyfriend heaved a sigh that was half annoyance half exasperated fondness as he looked at you and drawled, “Weren’t you the one who said you could do it without my help earlier?”

             You flushed at that. It was the truth after all, your boyfriend had been playfully teasing you earlier about getting his mother’s birthday gift for her, and purposefully wound you up to the point that you’d blurted out that you’d pick out and pay for the gift yourself and it would serve him right if you didn’t even bother to put his name on it.

             As per usual he’d been deeply amused by this, and had insisted on accompanying you to go on your expedition to find the perfect gift. Unfortunately, it had been incredibly slow going, as while you did like his mother a lot, the woman was nothing but kind and welcoming whenever you saw her, you didn’t actually know her all that well. It was only pure luck that you’d remembered she had complimented your scarf the last time you were there and had vaguely mentioned wanting something like that for her own.

             “Don’t frown so much you’ll get wrinkles,” your boyfriend told you gently poking you in the forehead, in a slightly softer version of the flick he’d used earlier. It was something he’d been doing since the two of you had started dating, gently flicking or poking your forehead whenever he needed to catch your attention or whenever he thought you were frowning too much.

             He always teased that you were going to get wrinkles, or that if you continued to try to think so hard your brain would melt out of your ears. It never failed to distract you from whatever was worrying you, or upsetting you and he knew it. It was honestly probably the whole reason he did it in the first place, his own way of showing concern and taking care of you, that was rather cute, not that you’d ever tell him that.

             “Go with the blue,” he told you tapping his finger against your forehead and pulling your from your thoughts, heaving a sigh as if incredibly put upon as he explained, “It’s her favorite color.”

             “Thanks Kei,” you told him with a grin, unable to help yourself, in the face of his affection.

             “Yeah, yeah,” he waved you off with an amused smirk, “Just don’t forget to put my name on it too.”

             You huffed a laugh at that but agreed, feeling pleased both with your gift and with your boyfriend, who really was sweet, even if he went out of his way to hide it.

 He Seeks Out Your Company

             You sighed quietly to yourself as you looked over your project. You weren’t quite finished with it yet, but you felt like you’d made good progress on it in the last hour or so. Feeling rather pleased with yourself, you stretched lazily, letting your eyes flick over the room, taking it in. You couldn’t help the small smile that tugged on your lips as you saw your boyfriend sitting in the arm chair next to you.

             He was fast asleep, his eyes closed and his head tilted back, his arms folded across his chest as he snoozed away. You could hear the faint, tinny sound of music from the headphones in his ears, clearly still playing something despite the wearer clearly no longer paying attention. It didn’t look at all comfortable, especially since he still had his glasses on, and his neck was at an odd angle resting on the back of the chair.

             You couldn’t help the warm feeling that surged through you as you looked at him though. Tsukishima was a bit of an introvert by nature, despite how confident he acted around groups of people and his slightly caustic attitude. The people he was genuinely comfortable with were fairly limited and the people whose company he actually enjoyed could be counted on his hands with fingers left over.

             You were among the privileged few whose company he not only enjoyed, but who he actively sought out. He never drew attention to it, and it was incredibly subtle, but whenever you were both home at the same time he was almost always in the same room as you. You didn’t have to be interacting at all, in fact most of the time you’d be preoccupied and would suddenly look up to find him in the vicinity, usually listening to music or reading a book.

             It wasn’t just at home either. Whenever you happened to be in the same vicinity as one another Tsukishima almost always gravitated to your side within the first five minutes of your arrival. He tended to use you, both as a shield and a bit of an excuse to not speak with anyone he found distasteful, insisting that he preferred your presence to the rest of the unwashed masses.

             It never failed to make you feel soft and utterly loved whenever he did it, though you would never actually point it out or draw attention to it, well aware it would only make him defensive and hissy. Honestly, he was a bit like a cat that way, something Yamaguchi had pointed out to you when the two of you had first started dating and you’d asked the other man for advice. He’d told you to let Tsukishima do things on his own terms, and to treat him a bit like a standoffish feline, and it hadn’t failed you yet.

             Carefully you stood up from your spot, and made your way over, well aware he was a bit of a light sleeper. He looked far more innocent in sleep that you would’ve guessed when you first met him, without the flashing golden eyes and the ever-present smirk on his face. It was a vulnerability he only showed to a trusted few and you were honored to be among them.

             Gently, you pulled his glasses from his face, folding them neatly and setting them nearby where he could easily spot them once he woke, and pressed a soft kiss to his forehead. He may try to hide it, but he really did have a sweet side to him, even if he could be incredibly salty at times and you couldn’t be happier to call him your boyfriend.

[thed4rkhand]

Kim Taehyung Nakshatra

Kim Taehyung and his Nakshatra analysis.

I got this really cool request about Kim Taehyung and him potentially being a Vishaka rising, and I really wanted to analyze it. So here is what I came up with, hope you guys enjoy this as much as I enjoyed poking about.

Let me make it clear right off the bat, that since I’m not a professional astrologer, some things may not match up, further since we’re not super sure of his birth time, it’ll definitely affect the reading. What I can be sure of is that I’ll do my best and I’m completely open to constructive criticism from you all!

Now lets get on with some basic stuff, for those who have not yet read the post with Namjoon’s moon analysis, I’ll again reiterate some principles of Vedic astrology! In the scenario that you’re still confused with all this jargon, feel free to reach out and I’ll be more than happy to help you out.

Starting out, we have to note that while western astrology is usually more advisory in nature, Vedic astrology’s main purpose is to predict. Also, we usually go a sign back from western astrology in Vedic astrology, so according to that for example, if you’re a libra rising, you become a virgo rising in Vedic astrology and so on and so forth. All planets will also shift back a sign, so a Capricorn Mercury will become a Sagittarius Mercury.

Since this is the first ‘only nakshatra analysis’ concerned posts on this blog, ill pre-explain some other facets of Nakshatras too. For those of you who don’t understand it still, you can refer to my post dedicated to explaining what nakshataras are through the master-list.

Now a person may display qualities other than that of their ascendant nakshatra, or moon or sun, because sometimes people have stellium or maybe an exalted planet or maybe a really strong planet in another Nakshatra, or maybe a lone planet in a certain Nakshatra is aspecting the lagna or even a stellium, that would all alter the degree to which the nakshatra would individually affect the person. So for this analysis, we will check the ascendant only, and other than that, we’ll check any aspects and lastly the nakshatra lord, and the dispositers.

So for this reading, we’ve taken the birth time as 4:15am on 30th December 1995, and birthplace is set to daegu, south korea (even if this isn’t where he’s born, rest assured since south korea is fairly small, it wont matter much).

Now on with the actual reading part-

So his ascendant is at 29’37 degrees in libra in the Nakshatra of Vishaka, within the third quadrant, where quadrant ruler is Mercury through Gemini. Vishaka’s ruler jupiter is in the third house, conjunct sun and mars in sagittarius, (i.e mooltrikon for jupiter). Jupiter itself sits in mula nakshatra and within the second quadrant of this.

Now onto the really cool stuff, since this stuff is being introduced for the first time, i’ll create a proper post explaining it, post it before this so you guys can check that out too. So keep cross checking it, otherwise i'll have to add it before each Nakshatra analysis.

His nakshatra here is vishaka, misra in nature, caste is mlechh, guna is sattwic, gana is rakshasa, purpose is dharma, deities are Indra and Agni, element is fire, gender is female, animal is tiger, Nadi is kappha and sign is libra.

So now getting on with the actual interpretation of the Vedic jargon above is here-

Firstly, lets get started with the main Nakshatra here, Vishaka. This falls between libra and scorpio, with the first 3 quadrants in libra and the last one in scorpio. Vishaka is represented by two forked branches, reprinting the constant inner battle inside the natives. They may appear very orthodox at times, very stubborn and fixed in their views and traditions, however such people are also extremely progressive and accepting. Due to this weird polarization, some natives have extreme trouble putting forth their views on many subjects here, and tend to observe others for a long time before making up their minds about something. Since the sign is inherently ruled by fire, such people are extremely intense and intimidating to others and love being in the spotlight while being surrounded by loved ones. However due to this intense nature and love for the spotlight, these people have a hard time maintaining friendships. Jupiter is their ruling planet, and you can see that influence in them, too. They are some of the most unconventionally intelligent people you will meet. Add to that their beliefs of spirituality and non-violence, and you’ve got the perfect person, however They are prone to addictions like drugs and alcohol, and they are also overly self-conscious. Instead of enjoying what they have, they will always concentrate on what they lack, therefore being called ‘the star of purpose’, for they’re always searching for a new purpose.

It is often believed that the lover of lord Krishna, Radha was born under this nakshatra. Thus it is believed, such natives have immense charm and beauty, while being innately pure within. They have people falling for them one after another, but once they find someone or something they like, they’ll remain devoted to it. Such people have a ‘Je ne sais quoi’ about them, one can’t very well point it out, but something so magnetic is present. They’re often said to be in direct connect with the divine (lord Krishna was after all a god), and are blessed by god for good fortune.

The native of this nakshatra might be interested in astrology and art.The natives of this nakshatra are good-natured and likes fair-judgement. They have a interest in religion and love the religious rituals too. They speak softly and due to which they easily impress others. They usually don’t speak harshly. Due to the effect of Jupiter they are always ready to learn and teach others. They are ambitious and don’t believe in following the societal rules. They work hard to achieve their ambitions and due to which they receive success also. The natives are wealthy, powerful and have an impressive nature and therefore people get easily impressed by them. The person is compassionate and confluence of ethics, rites and good qualities in the person. Due to the combination of all these qualities the native becomes financially sound also. The native believes in saving money due to which they never face financial crisis. They can influence others with their word. However on the flip side, They like showing off and are a bit arrogant by nature. Vishakha nakshatra is the nakshatra of Jupiter, that is why they have a mild behavior. But they are short tempered also. According to their behavior they are always ready to fight with others. (see how jin and tae, and vmin always fight, in-fact he was named as one of the members most likely to pick a fight)

Something I found very interesting is how Taehyung’s ascendant falls in the 3rd pada or quadrant of Vishaka, which corresponds to the sound ‘Te’ as in pronunciation wise ‘Tae’, and being named taehyung is thus extremely auspicious for him. This is rare among people unaware of Vedic traditions, and no wonder it has worked so well for his fortune and luck.

Now Jupiter through vishaka Rules Lower Abdomen, Bladder parts, kidneys, pancreatic glands, Genitals, Rectum, Prostate Gland, Descending colon. Thus the natives are prone to nose bleeding, renal stone, dropsy, rupture, prostate enlargement, fibroid tumor, urinary trouble.

Now he’s born under the third quadrant. These natives are light-hearted and curious. They enjoy learning and acquiring knowledge on diverse topics. However they may be afflicted by anxiety and often struggle with conflicting emotions regarding work and love, material and spiritual realms and so much more (remember that gemini is two faced, and vishaka itself is branched). Since it falls under gemini, such people are social butterflies, amicable, smart and communicative.Due to their warm and altruistic personality, they can easily make friends with others. Their diversity of personal interests also helps them to form friendships with a wide variety of people. Thus they have no issue maintaining an active and vibrant social life. They are extremely wise for their age and have a natural insight into the workings of the world and of human nature. They are truthful and devout, and are naturally-inclined toward spirituality. They bring energy and enthusiasm to whatever tasks they undertake.

Now we’ll brush over the nakshatra lord quickly, and then move back into really fun nakshatra stuff.

Jupiter as ruler of vishaka is in the 3rd house, conjunct sun and mars, with no aspects.The natives are good planners (3rd house is short distant journeys). Besides, they are highly curious and enjoy making connections with others. They feel happy to share ideas. They are able to see the larger picture and often turn to others for advice and suggestions.  Also, they easily put the people at ease in social situations and have higher mental capabilities. They can become intuitive as Jupiter will expand their mental power, so they can even grasp new information quickly and comprehend things effortlessly. The placement of Jupiter in the 3rd house will also help the natives in education. The natives are likely to excel in writing and literary fields( his degree is in communications and broadcasting I believe). Since this is also the house of younger siblings, people have great relationships with their siblings here.Since the 3rd house is also a upachaya sthana (house of growth) the native will have good growth of career and wealth, and with its aspect on the 7th house, marital bliss is also guaranteed. Aspects on the 11th and 9th houses promise a powerful social circle, and gains through foreign land as well as fame.

However, despite all these great results from sitting in its mooltrikon, Jupiter is still afflicted by sun and mars. Such people with age (upachaya house moves with age) speak less and less because they think twice before they speak and choose their words very carefully. With this conjunction of 3 masculine friendly planets thus when together in a house, makes people highly influential. The native tends to enjoy a good financial and social status. This conjunction is often found in the horoscope of influential and high-ranking individuals such as politicians. When Sun, Mars and Jupiter are housed together in a horoscope, the native earns a lot of wealth, fame, and respect in life. Such people live a prosperous life for the most part and do not have to work hard to make it big, as they have unpaid karma they receive in this lifetime. Moreover, these natives tend to be very loyal and straightforward.

Now onto dissecting the nakshatra even more, let's get into the characteristics of vishaka.

Being of Misra nature, they are of an extremely fiery temperament, are actually prone to being pyromaniacs too. I have noticed that such people also have great metabolisms. They are quiet in large crowds, and prefer one to one conversations and are also extremely philanthropic. Great organizers, extremely interested in art and technology, and absolutely brilliant at getting rid of bad habits (fire purifies).

Vishakha is a monstrous nakshatra. People in this group are generally intuitive, strong-willed, and assertive. They may be prone to anger and violence. However Libra natives possess excellent taste and good judgement. They are friendly, learned, and dignified, but may be prone to arrogance as persons born under the star of Vishakha have a wide sphere of influence. For this reason, they do well in social and political arenas. It is said that that the natives under vishaka have vyapana shakti, or the power to “Achieve and Make Manifest, Power to Achieve many and various Fruits of Life” (remember how he always talks to his angels?)

Now he’s a mleccha caste, which according to Vedic traditions means an outsider or an outcaste (as these people did not follow societal rules, or fit into the Vedic practices as they were of foreign origin). This could honestly be why we talk about his 4D personality, because of the caste. He has an unconventional way of doing things and thinking, which don’t fit into the broader spectrum due to this. Also we can see that it follows the dharma nakshatra, so he is inherently concerned with principles, morals, duty and finding his life’s purpose. This can make his very spiritually inclined and intuitive, also very restless and prone to depression. Now coming to his dosa of kaphha, (the Water quality). This makes a native very philosophical, calm and patient, sometimes so much so that other’s perceive them as lazy, and simply ‘lucky’. With his sattwa qualities here, with Jupiter, a rajas planet, he can often has a duality between rajas qualities with fiery temperament and passion for everything and then an extremely calm and cool quality of sattwa, where one is not concerned about the consequences of their actions and are concerned with being in the moment.

The yoni of the nakshatra is a male tiger (tae tae?). This means the natives have attributes similar to those of tigers.Tigers are handsome and powerful people with an innate self-confidence and elegance. There's a sense of immediacy and an aura of electricity that surrounds it, and when it walks into a room, it feels like something is about to happen. Once a tiger has found its groove, it will focus on its goal with a brightly burning intensity. In social situations, the tiger is an excellent host and there is no such thing as a casual party in its home. Guests can always expect a memorable occasion with an extravagance of food and drink, and yet, there is a distinct coldness to its den. Having sacrificed comfort for style, the tiger outfits its house with austere and modern furniture, and comfortably worn easy chairs are replaced every few years.But their emotional detachment should not be confused with a desire to avoid tenderness; for intimacy is the tiger's greatest sensual tool. Offering its lover some deeply held secrets adds another dimension to both platonic and romantic relationships for a tiger. They are fiercely independent and always on the move, so it can be quite hard to discern such people.

And lastly coming to the deities of the nakshatra, the two deities, Indra (Lord of Lightning) and Agni (Lord of Fire), are known to rule this nakshatra. Hence, Vishakha witnesses the relay of characteristics of both of these ruling deities. Since both of these deities exhibit some characteristics which are not in accordance with the other, Vishakha becomes a mixture of different kinds of characteristics. Lightening tends to have similar impact with the forcefulness of the light, and the destructive power to do what it sets out to do. The energy of Agni however, is more cleansing. Agni is the God which takes our oblations offered to the Gods to them. It is the energy that gives us the opportunity to cook food and nourish ourselves. It creates ashes from all that is offered making it pure and able to clean any impurities. The natives can have a lot to do with justice, social righteousness and causes. There could be a lot of intensity here especially to do the right thing and a lot of righteous principle because of these two deities.

Finally, a shortened version of Vedic tradition story associated with the nakshatra-

Indra, according to Vedic Mythology, is known to be very goal-oriented, and who is often insecure about losing his throne to someone else. In an attempt to keep his throne intact he commits many deeds that can be bad karmas according to Vedic Astrology. For example, Indra once tried to kill the pregnant wife of demon Hiranyakshipu in order to stop him from worshipping Lord Brahma and getting great powers as a result of his worship. Indra feared that Hiranyakshipu will gain powers and then attack the heavens and remove him from his throne and in order to save his throne he tried to disturb the worship of Hiranyakshipu by every possible means. Though he did not succeed due to the intervention of DevRishi (Sage) Naarad who was able to influence the higher Gods to stop Indra from committing such a heinous deed. This goal oriented nature of Indra is relayed through Vishakha and accordingly the natives under the strong influence of this nakshatra are very fixated on their goals and they are always in a danger of engaging in bad karmas in order to achieve their goals.

Indra is also known for his deep interests in drinking, women and enjoying other pleasures and these qualities of Indra are also relayed through this nakshatra and accordingly the natives under the strong influence of this nakshatra are likely to be fond of materialistic pleasures of all kinds. Agni on the other hand is seen as the ruling deity of Fire according to Vedic mythology and he is portrayed as the one with a good character. The influence of Agni on Vishakha brings sufficient energy to this nakshatra which can help the natives achieve their goals.

An incident is quoted in Vedic mythology where a demon prayed to god Agni to protect him and then after assurance from Agni, he started worshipping lord Brahma for gaining powers. Indra, seeing it as a threat to his power came to kill the demon but Agni who had promised the demon to save him, came in the way and fought Indra and prevented him from killing the demon. It should be noted that Agni fought with Indra in order to practice the right deeds despite the fact that Indra was his king. So the influence of Agni on this nakshatra brings positive qualities of Agni and how a particular native under the influence of Vishakha will behave is very much dependent on which of these two ruling deities is controlling Vishakha in his horoscope.

Anyway, this was my analysis of the nakshatra, hope you guys enjoyed it! Let me know about other stuff too, and ill be more than happy to help!

[deiliamedlini]

And Into the Fire

Summary: Zelda's job as an emergency dispatcher has made her good at handling stressful situations that force her to keep a level head, even when the person she has to send into a dangerous fire just so happens to be her boyfriend.

*note: I am not a dispatcher or a firefighter, so if any of this information or the instructions Zelda gives are drastically incorrect, just pretend it's fine hahaha. I tried to do research, but I ended up taking many liberties with stuff I couldn't find.*

Also on Ao3, which I always think is easier to read

Word Count: 6595

~~~

“Engine 2, what’s your status?”

Zelda stared at the screen, and impatiently tapped the outside of her headset, waiting to input the arrival time of the firetruck to the scene. It was in response to a fall down some stairs, and as unfortunate as that was, Zelda felt sickened by the relief she felt when it wasn’t a real fire.

She had her reasons. And they were beyond selfish, but she had them all the same.

It was the feeling she’d felt almost every day since taking the dispatch job working for the City of Hyrule. It wasn’t that she wasn’t trained for what to do, or that she felt unprepared to deal with it. She’d literally walked people through CPR on the phone, been on a call with someone hiding in a closet from an intruder in their home, and helped frightened strangers through car accidents. She worked the lines anytime someone called the 991 emergency line, and the standard lines whenever someone called the station to report a crime. She worked with the paramedics, and the police.

But she dreaded every single time she had to work with the fire department.

“Engine 2 to 853: we’ve just arrived on scene at 174 Castle Drive.”

“Received Engine 2,” she said into her headset and proceeded to type the information into one of the three screens in front of her. This one had the status log of everyone on duty for the day.

She always had her cheat sheet of codes nearby in case she needed it, but after enough time on the job, she knew nearly every combination of numbers and colors there was. The main frequency, Zelda and the other dispatchers, was ‘853’, so that was what people used to communicate with every dispatcher as a sort of home base, essentially. Then everyone else had their codes.

Zelda was 853. Ravio’s team was Engine 2. Ruto and Lulu were Car 3. She knew them all.

So, as she clicked and typed, she didn’t even need to pause to think, inputting locations and numbers with a typing speed that had only improved over the last few years.

What didn’t improve was her patience in the quieter moments while waiting in the dark room that was only lit by the harsh glow of blue and white lights from the screens for the next call.

She grabbed a twisted chip from a bag and chomped on it loudly. Even after all this time, she still sometimes worried she’d left her mic on while doing something obnoxious like talking or chewing. But the light was off, so she grabbed another chip and bit into it with a deafening crunch.

But of course, with her mouth full of three more chips, the 991 phone rang.

“Paya!” she practically choked out, half mumbled and unintelligible.

Paya turned and saw Zelda struggling to swallow her food and took the call instead while Zelda quickly chugged her water down.

Zelda had long since tuned out the other calls happening in the room. There were four of them working in this section at once, two more in another room who were working with another department, and two more who were on their dinner break for that hour. The room could get loud very easily on a busy day.

Unfortunately, this was a busy day.

Almost as soon as Zelda had swallowed her water, the words from Paya’s typed note crossed her screen, a line in blue that requested Zelda’s action. A structure fire at 729 Eldin St. She put her headset on and was very quickly reminded by the twisting nerves in her gut why she hated fires.

Still, she cleared her throat, making sure she wouldn’t choke on any remnants of the chips before speaking. “853, 853. There is a 2-9 in progress at 729 Eldin Street.”

Her eyes kept skimming the notes, some of which were spelled almost illegibly in Paya’s haste to record information while on the phone. Zelda began typing as she spoke into the radio, looking at a map of the city that had each police car, fire engine, and ambulance’s last reported location on it.

More notes popped up, and her eyes darted to the side where her other co-worker, Granté was also on the phone. At least two callers reporting the fire, from the looks of the notes.

“Caller reports active fire, flames and smoke in the vicinity. Reports from outside the building say flames are visible from the… south side.” She pulled up the address. “Structure is a multi-level office building. Requesting nearest unit to respond immediately to the scene. Engine 2 is currently unavailable.”

“Confirming the address is 729 Eldin Street?”

Zelda’s heart clenched and she closed her eyes for a moment, remembering exactly why she hated fires. She recognized the voice on the other end all too well.

But this was her job, and that was his. She’d been well aware of that from the beginning. So she signed to herself, giving all her nerves an exit before she hit the button again. “Affirmative.”

“Engine 6 is approximately three minutes from the scene. Will reroute from station to the scene.”

“Received. Engine 6 headed to 729 Eldin Street.” She pushed her hair from her face and reluctantly grabbed her mouse, clicking into the search bar to type the one name into her computer that she never enjoyed typing.

Link.

She clicked his name and changed his status from yellow, which meant he was returning to station, specifically after responding to a car accident with injuries today, to red, which was busy or in route to scene.

The status of his entire team changed to red.

She could hear several of the police cars responding over the radio, and she acknowledged each of them as she kept typing in information, changing status’, and especially transferring calls off her screen. She wasn’t meant to answer calls today; she was on the radio.

More notes crossed her screen and she grimaced before hitting the button again. “853 to Engine 6: multiple reports of alarms sounding nearby. Be advised, callers are reporting that the smoke is thick and covering the area.” Without a breath, she tapped a button to switch channels from the fire trucks to the police cars as she checked her other screen. “853 to Car 14: reports of onlookers close to the scene. They have been informed to get back, but according to the caller, there are few who will do so. Car 12 is also en route. Please assist.”

More notes across her screen. She flipped back to the channel connected directly to the fire trucks.

“853 to Engine 10: two women have left the building. Caller says they appear to be coughing heavily, though they have stepped away from the immediate area. Reports that there are more inside on their way out. Requesting rescue immediately.”

“Engine 10: Received. On our way.”

“Engine 4: Should we head out?”

Zelda made a face to herself, clicking Engine 4 on her screen where they were still listed as busy.

“853 to Engine 4: Have you cleared your 5-8?”

“Affirmative. Just finished.”

Zelda groaned. They were her biggest pains, rarely reporting times or calling in. She turned to check the time. “853 to Engine 4: I will clear you at 15:37, please head to 729 Eldin Street to assist Engine 6. Engines 11, 3, and 17, please confirm you received the summons alarm.”

She was typing again, each engine reporting in as they headed to the large fire. Link’s team was arriving first, but with the press of a button, Zelda had already sent out the alert to the others to provide their assistance.

Time passed infinitely slowly and all at once as she relayed information. Occasionally, she checked in, but mostly, she was listening to communication between the trucks among themselves.

From the radio chatter, she could tell Link was almost there. Grabbing her phone, she quickly tapped her texts. He was easy to find. The top one. “Be safe.”

Almost immediately, he responded with a heart emoji, and she put the phone down again, content with his response. She felt like she should probably break the habit, but whenever Link was sent somewhere that was considered dangerous, she couldn’t stop herself from sending him that text, even if it meant distracting him for a moment.  

She began shifting uncomfortably in her seat as she kept reading the notes from the calls. It was an easy way to pass the time, but also to keep in the loop. Most of it was information that wasn’t necessary to relay over the radio: caller’s name, address, etc.

“Engine 6 has arrived on scene.”

She typed the time. “Received Engine 6.”

Zelda’s phone buzzed with a news alert about the fire, and she swiped it when it said there were photos.

“Oh shit,” she breathed. It wasn’t a fire. It was a fire.

She turned to see Paya off the phone, and she slid her chair over. “Did you see this?”

Paya grimaced. “Yikes. That happened fast.”

“Yeah. You wonder how they didn’t see it earlier, or what made it spread so fast.”

“I wasn’t wondering, but now I am. Thanks Zelda.”

Zelda smiled and scooted her chair back to her desk.

For some time, each police car, firetruck, and ambulance began arriving. People were coming out of the building, and everyone was focused on that while a few engines worked to douse the flames. The communication on the radio was mostly to each other rather than to her, back and forth with information that Zelda understood to an extent, but not in all its technicalities.

Link had explained some of it to her when she’d complained that she had no idea what he was saying about a hose once.  She freely admitted that she wanted to eavesdrop on his calls and to know what he was talking about when he said he started going off about master streams or egress or something to that effect.

He’d taken her to the fire station on one of her days off, and he thankfully hadn’t been called out until after she left. That’s how, on her day off, she’d gone home to listen to his scanner, knees bent up close to her chin, bouncing her foot with anxiety. He’d crawled through collapsed rubble that day, and there was nothing she could do from her couch. It’s the main reason she preferred working whenever Link went out somewhere. At least then, she rarely felt helpless.

Why couldn’t he just have to respond to people falling? Or someone needing assistance breaking into their own cars? That was safer.

But she’d always known what she was getting herself into.

They’d met at a bar, both getting off from work around the same time. Zelda’s hours were absurd, and she was still getting used to them even after close to a year on the job. Link was with a group of his coworkers after they’d been called out that night. She’d even seen him there several times before, and she recognized their names as people she often spoke to over the radio every day, but she still drank alone, just needing to relax after work rather than socialize. She just wasn’t interested in drinking in her apartment by herself.

Though she was usually more assertive when it came to relationships and friendships, there was something different about Link when she saw him. She didn’t want to mess up their non-existent relationship by doing anything. At least if she said nothing, she could admire him from across the room. If she had to change watering holes because she’d embarrassed herself trying to talk to the most attractive firefighter on the force—in her humble opinion—she’d die a little bit. So, she was beyond surprised when he’d broken from his group one night and offered to buy her a drink once he also realized she was the voice on the other end of the radio.

He’d spoken first, but hours later, Zelda had been the first one to offer her number. And that’s how Link realized he’d left his phone at the station.

“I really am not lying! I’m not trying to blow you off or anything. I… do you have a napkin or something?” He’d been frantic, patting his pockets and having his team member, Urbosa, call his phone repeatedly.

Zelda thought it was cute. “I can just text you. What’s your number?”

He’d frozen. “I—uh—I don’t know. It’s in my phone. I broke my old one and changed carriers, so it’s new, and I don’t know it yet.” She’d rolled her eyes, feeling like she’d completely blown it, embarrassing herself by trying to give him her number when he didn’t seem interested. When he’d seen her expression, he’d grabbed her hand. “No, wait! One of them will have it.”

“Are you sure you want my number?”

“Gods, yes!”

His enthusiasm was what had her smiling again, and she held his hand tighter while she reached over the counter to grab a pen from a cup. Then she spread his hand out in hers and wrote her number on his palm like a middle schooler.

“Don’t sweat it off,” she winked, grabbing her bag. “I have to get up in a few hours for my next shift, but if you do lose it, you know where I work.”

“Right. Right, I do. That’s right.”

He was cute and easily flustered. Even still, after almost three years into their relationship, she knew how to make him stutter nervously.

“I’ll… I’ll text you as soon as I get my phone. So, you know who I am.”

She’d laughed as she pulled her jacket on. “Okay, Link. I’ll talk to you soon, I hope.”

“Yeah, absolutely.”

“Goodnight, Link,” she’d said with a smile that had melted him that first day and every day since.

“Goodnight, Zelda.”

She snapped back to the present when she heard the 991 phone ring at her desk.

Looking around, she saw everyone else was busy, and Paya had run to the bathroom. She wasn’t really meant to answer calls while on the radio, but the light kept flashing and no one else was available. She switched headsets and pressed a button that answered the call.

“991: this line is recorded; what’s your emergency?”

She was already clicking into the system to start a new call log, her fingers poised over the keys. Zelda flinched as she was met with muffled noises loud in her ear.

“I’m sorry, could you repeat that? What’s your emergency?”

“—and there’s smoke everywhere and I don’t know what to do! I have my son and my father here. He’s in his nineties and—”

“What’s the address of your emergency, sir?”

“—the handle was hot so I don’t know what to do here—”

“Sir, please, you have to remain calm so I can help you. What’s the address of your emergency?”

Caller panicked. Mentioned smoke. Son and father present. Address _

Zelda listened to the man compose himself as she typed.

Address 729 Eldin St. Shocker. Another call about the fire.

“I don’t know what to do!” the man cried again.

“Sir, we already have firefighters at the scene. Can you tell me your location exactly?”

“Um, um, we’re on the fourth floor. My office was down the hall, and my father was here to drop off my son, but he’s old and he’s having a hard time breathing, and I don’t know what to do!”

Zelda’s eyes bugged out and she looked at the notes. That couldn’t be. The manager stated everyone was accounted for.

“Could you just confirm for me: you’re inside the building, correct?”

“Yes! The fourth floor! Oh gods, the smoke is so thick. Please, my son is here!”

“Sir, you need to leave the building immediately. Help is outside and they’ll look at all of you.”

“I can’t! There was fire on the stars, and now my office door handle is too hot and that means the fire is on the other side of the door—right?— and the smoke is in the room and my son and father can’t stop coughing!”

“Okay. Is there another exit you can use?”

“I- I don’t know!”

“Stop and think. Is there a second door out of your office that you can try?”

“No! No, it’s just the one.”

“Is there a window in your office?”

“Yes!”

“Good. Is there a fire escape out your window? You need to get out of the building, sir.”

There was a shuffle, and Zelda took the pause to frantically type her notes. Spelling errors, abbreviations, everything to get the information down for someone to relay over the radio.

“I can’t get it open, and my father is struggling!”

“Okay. Stay calm. What I need you to do is to use anything you have to block the underneath of the door, okay? Use a towel, a jacket, anything. You want to stop the smoke from coming in so quickly.”

Her voice was level, but she couldn’t help the rising panic she was feeling as no one else was taking the call over the radio.

“Okay, okay, I did it!”

“Good. What’s your name?”

“Thadd.”

“Thadd. Is your father breathing, Thadd? Can you check for me?”

A pause. Zelda spun in her chair, looking around as everyone else was still occupied.

“He is. He’s breathing, but it’s sounding raspy.”

“Keep him low to the ground. Smoke rises, so you’re better off close to the ground. How old is your son?”

“He’s ten.”

“Okay, have him keep an eye on your father for a moment. I need you to try to open the window again. Don’t hang up. I’m here. I’m letting the firefighters know where to find you, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Okay.” She switched to the handheld mic, muting the 991 call and interrupting the chatter between the ambulance and one of the other trucks on the way. “This is 853: there are three people trapped on the fourth floor, east side of the building. Room is rapidly filling with smoke. Occupants are the caller, his elderly father, and his ten-year-old son. Caller’s name is Thadd.”

There was a long pause, presumably so everyone could yell at each other on the scene. She let go of that button and unmuted Thadd. “How is it going?”

“I can’t!”

“Break it, Thadd. You need to get it open. You need air, and a way out.”

“They’ll make me replace the window! I can’t afford that!”

Zelda scoffed to herself that that was his first thought. “I guarantee you, that’s not going to happen. You need to break it.”

“Okay, okay, what do I use?”

“Anything heavy. How old are you Thadd?”

“I’m 43. This has never happened to me before! We were just swapping my son after he’d spent the night with his grandparents.”

“It’s okay. We’re going to get you all out. Break the glass.” The other radio called her, and though she recognized Link’s voice, she couldn’t understand his words. “Keep trying, Thadd. Don’t hang up.” She muted him again. “853: repeat please?”

“You’re sure they’re inside? The manager says everyone is accounted for.”

“I’m on the phone with him right now, Link. He’s in there. Fourth floor. Forty-three-year-old male, struggling to get his window open. Door handle is hot to the touch. He’s blocked the smoke underneath his door, and says the stairwell was already on fire when he and his family tried to get out. His father is struggling to breathe, but he still is. The young boy is monitoring the grandfather’s condition so the caller can try to break the window open for rescue.”

“Shit,” Link muttered, not taking his finger off the button fast enough.

“I got the window open! There’s nothing! No fire escape! What do we do now?”

“Get everyone near the window. Get some air if it’s safe to move your father. He’s still breathing?”

“Yes.”

“He didn’t sustain a fall or other head injury, correct?”

“Right.”

“Get to the window then, and stay low to the ground. Help is coming. Stay by the window; they’ll likely try to get you out from there.”

“Okay, okay.”

Zelda muted him again before her head whipped to Paya, as she entered the room again. “Paya! I need you to take over the radio for me now! I’m on a call with someone inside the building still. Three people.”

“Oh, shit!”

“No kidding.”

She slid her headset back over her ear and unmuted Thadd, began typing some of her backlogged notes, starting with him getting the window open. “Thadd, can you give me some more information about where to find your office? Does it have a number on the door?”

“Yeah, it’s room 4F. The door is blue, but I think that might be too—”

“F as in Fronk, or S as in Selmie?”

“Fronk. F like Fronk!”

“Alright. And it’s at the end of a hallway on the fourth floor. Is there another door in that hallway, or any other halls? What side should they be looking at? We want them to get directly to you if they have to go inside.”

“No, no, no, no the end of the hall. Straight at the end. It’s the only one, they can’t miss it!”

“Okay, Thadd. You’re doing great. Just hang on. Someone is—” she froze for a moment, realizing it was Link’s name in the notes. Link and a few others were going in. The alley to get to Thadd’s window was too narrow for the trucks. Of course it was his team going. “—someone is coming in for you right now. They’re already inside, so I need you to stay calm and stay near the window. How is your son doing? Is he breathing alright? Are you?”

“I’m fine. I’m fine, it’s my father!”

“How about your son? What’s his name?”

“Azu.”

“Azu is okay?”

“He’s in my arms. I have him near the window. I have you in my other hand.”

“Okay, good. Now how’s your father? He’s still breathing, correct?”

She could hear him say yes, but her attention drifted back to the busy radio. And her breathing picked up when she heard each member of Link’s team struggle to make it up the stairs in the rapidly crumbling office building.

Her hand shook as she pressed the button to speak. “853 to Engine 6 Team?”

“Go ahead, Zel.”

Zelda smiled slightly. Link slipped up far more often than she did on the radio, but she’d already messed up today too. Their names came out of each other’s mouths before they could even think about any numbers they were meant to use.

“Caller reports that the room is at the end of a hallway, directly down the hall on the fourth floor. There are no other halls to be confused with on that floor. The door is blue and marked as 4F. That’s F as in Fronk.”

“Received; 4 Fronk.”

Letting go of the button without saying anything else was always difficult, but she returned her attention to Thadd until she heard the radio go off again.

“Get it out of the way!” Revali shouted, and it was clear that he didn’t realize their radios were clicked on in the first place. “Move it, Link!”

“I’ve got it,” Daruk’s voice said steadily. There was a thud.

“Mipha! Look out!”

Another crash.

“The building is shaking,” Thadd whispered, bringing her attention to a dividing point as she tried to keep listening to them both.

Zelda swallowed hard. “It’s probably the wind. Don’t worry. Nothing is going to happen to you or the building. They’re almost to you.”

“Revali, hand me that axe!” Urbosa called out over the radio.

“I’m going up this way,” Link grumbled.

“Don’t! That’s not going to work!”

“Daruk, help me up!”

“No problem, Little Guy.”

“Link!” Mipha shouted, panicked, before the radio turned off.

Zelda pressed her hand to her mouth to stop a noise from squeaking out. She turned to Paya, who was already looking at her sympathetically before the girl held down the speak button.

“853: be advised that exchange was broadcast.”

“Engine 6 Team: we have a possible injury. Requesting medical team on standby for physical injury as well as smoke.”

“I heard something!” Thadd said, his voice low and trembling.

Zelda spun back to her desk, shaking. That was Link. Link was injured, but she couldn’t request more information, or even pay attention to the radio. She had Thadd to worry about, and that was her job. “That’s help coming for you. You’re going to be fine.” She let go of the button to wipe a tear from her eyes and shake her shoulders out so her voice didn’t shake. “Tell me what you can hear without leaving your place by the window. Is it voices you can hear, or just noises?”

“I can’t…” Thadd was coughing heavily now. “I can’t tell.”

“It’s okay. You’re doing so well. Just another minute, okay? They’re nearly to you. Just keep staying low.”

“Okay. Oka—” he whispered just before there was a thud on the line, the sound of a bang, and then raspy breathing and coughing on the other end.  

“Thadd? Thadd? Can you hear me? Are you there? Thadd? What just happened? Hello?” Each time, she paused, but each time, she heard nothing but the raspy breath of someone near the phone. “Is anyone else there?” She hoped she’d been on speakerphone.

She kept trying, her attention divided between listening for a response, and listening to the chatter on the radio, occasionally turning to Paya for good measure.

A bang on the phone brought her back.

“Thadd, is that you?”

“Thadd?”

Link’s voice, muffled though it was, rang out clear in her brain. Zelda let out a long breath of air as she heard Link trying to communicate with the three of them in the room before his voice was distant and turned away. “Revali, get the kid! Daruk, the old man! Mipha, go with them! Zel said he was the one struggling. Get him oxygen ASAP.”

“Link?!” Zelda tried into the receiver, though she doubted he’d be able to hear her through the phone that was not on speaker, with the fire around him, and all his gear on.

“I’ll bring him down,” Urbosa said. “You’re hurting.”

“It was a just scratch,” Link said dismissively.

“Okay, sure. That’s what I’d call it.”

“Just don’t tell Zel how I got hurt. I don’t want her to worry.”

“She’ll figure it out. It was on the radio.”

Zelda squeezed her fist together and her palm hit her desk several times. “Link! Get out already!” Not that he could hear her. Paya turned around with a curious glance though.

“Come on, we have to get out of here,” Urbosa said, making a strained noise as she lifted Thadd. The line disconnected with a final thud as the phone presumably fell.

Zelda sucked in a deep breath and wrote her notes quickly before pulling her legs up to her chin while she swiveled on her chair as she stared at the radio.

“—confirmed: we have the ten-year-old boy and the ninety-year-old male. They are in the ambulance now.”

“Good, where are Link and Urbs—”

“Shit!”

A deafening bang.

Zelda was on her feet, both hands covering her mouth as she started to pace. Paya stayed on the radio as she checked on Zelda.

There were a thousand silent seconds. The world stood still in that infinite moment where Zelda existed, and the sounds on the radio existed, and nothing else.

There were no other thoughts in her brain, no subconscious commands telling her to breathe or blink. There was nothing to stop the silent tears that rolled down her cheek, and nothing that allowed her to process any of the words on the screen, over the radio, or even Paya’s voice behind her.

Her fingers itched to grab her phone, to call Link just because she knew he was in danger, but there was nothing she could do about it. It was like she was sitting at home while he crawled through collapsing rubble all over again.

It wasn’t until her ears pricked at the sound of Link’s voice in the background of someone else’s radio call that she could breathe again.

She sat back down in her chair as the world came back to her. The notes on the screen read: Thadd has been brought to Engine 10. All accounted for. Building clear. Structure unstable. Gas lines potentially causing explosion in the breakroom kitchen, allegedly.

Wiping her eyes, Zelda grabbed her phone and sent Link a text. “You’re okay?”

“I am,” he sent back almost immediately, as if he’d already been reaching for his phone to text Zelda first. He continued to type. “Can’t talk. They strapped me to some oxygen. I should probably come home early today.”

“I agree,” she responded, choking out a laugh. She added the laughing emoji for good measure. She was going to simply say she’d see him later, to let him go back to work. But she ended up typing “I love you,” instead.

“I love you too.”

Zelda set the phone aside and put her headset back on, nodding to Paya that she was ready to swap back to the radio.  

Paya gave her a thumbs up just before the phone rang, and she Paya answered it before typing.

A note came across Zelda’s  screen.

She cleared her throat. “853 to Car 7: there is a 7-5 in progress on Veiled Avenue. White sedan, travelling northbound on highway 10 out of the city. Informing the kingdom police that it will likely cross the jurisdiction line.”

“Car 7 to 863: we are in pursuit.”

“Received.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Zelda returned home to an empty apartment. Link’s car wasn’t in the lot yet, and it gave her a minute to set her keys down and put water on the stove for tea.

Paya had been willing to swap her dinner break with Zelda so she could leave early instead to get home a little sooner, and though Zelda would normally have turned down the offer, she hastily accepted it and hurried home.

She sat on the couch in her leggings and a loose shirt that she’d sleep in. By the time she’d drank half the cup of tea, she heard the rattle of keys in the door’s lock, and she set the mug down.

Link pushed the door open and locked it again before he dropped his keys into the bowl by the door. When he looked up and saw Zelda, a large smile broke out across his face.

She was already heading across the room towards him, but he held out a hand to stop her.

“I didn’t have a chance to shower. I reek, and I’m still covered in ash. It’s going to get all over you.”

“I don’t give a shit, Link,” she muttered before wrapping her arms around his neck.

He chuckled and his arms went tightly around her waist, even lifting her up playfully before he kissed her.

She wasn’t content with just the brief kiss he offered, and she snaked her arm up to his neck to guide him right back to her again. And again. And again.

She didn’t even care that he absolutely reeked like smoke, or that it was like kissing a campfire. His lips were chapped, and he was grimy, skin stained with soot and dried sweat, hair matted and stiff.

Finally, he pulled back laughing at her enthusiasm. “Let me shower first, okay?”

She whined and put on the pouting face she knew Link struggled to resist.

“Oh, stop,” he snorted, kissing her again. “You did good today.”

“Just today?” she joked, noting that he was distinctly hiding a limp. She crossed her arms and waited for him to admit to his injury.

“Yesterday too,” he teased, going to the pile of laundry to grab some clean clothes neither of them had put away.

“I’d say you did good, too, but you’re hurt, aren’t you?”

He froze and bit his lip before turning to her. “Maybe.”

“What was it?”

“Piece of wood got me good.”

“Where?”

He cleared his throat and undid his belt, tossing it to the ground before he stepped out of his pants and tossed them into the empty laundry basket. His entire thigh was a mess of blacks and blues and purples and reds.

“Link!”

“They already made me get it X-rayed, just in case. That’s why I was late. It looks like it’s just a bad bruise, not a break or sprain or whatever.”

“I heard you tell Urbosa you were going to lie to me. That guy’s phone was on when you were in there.”

He didn’t seem surprised that she knew, but apologetically grabbed her hips and pulled her close enough that he could lightly run the tip of his nose along her ear, which always tickled Zelda and sent a chill down her spine. “Well, I didn’t tell her to lie. I told her not to tell you how I got hurt so you wouldn’t worry.”

“Did you think I was going to miss the massive discoloring of your leg?”

“I’d hoped you might have, at least for tonight.”

She scoffed and nuzzled her face into his neck, still too relieved to be annoyed.

His hands went soothingly through her hair several times, before she realized that he was the one shaking, not her.

“Link?”

His expression was distant when she wasn’t looking at him, but he smiled as soon as she looked back at him. “I was just thinking. You know how much I love hearing you on the radio when I’m out there? And then I come home and I get to hold you. And, lucky bastard that I am, I get to do that anytime, even when I’m not in a burning building.”

“Save a kitten tomorrow, Link. I’ll hold you then, too, and I think we’ll both breathe easier.”

“I want to marry you.”

Zelda froze for a moment, and pulled back to look at him. “You what?”

He nodded and sighed. “I love you. I think about you all the time. I want to be with you until I die. And I want you to be safe, protected and taken care of if anything were to happen to me at work.”

Zelda let out a breath. They’d talked about marriage before as some vague future plan. They’d talked about death and re-written their wills one night when Link had gotten into this mindset and then gone to their lawyers the next day to make it official. But they’d never put the two concepts into the same sentence. Both seemed inevitable, but Zelda didn’t want them to be spoken in the same breath.

“Nothing is going to happen to you, and you shouldn’t ask me to marry you just because we had a rough day at work. You’re fine. I’m fine. Nothing is going to happen to either of us, okay? I won’t let it. You have me on the radio with you, so obviously you’re going to be fine. Ask me another time, okay? Tomorrow, maybe, when it’s not so morbid and spur-of-the-moment.”

Link nodded again a wide smirk on his face at her non-answer answer. “You’re right. Can you grab my socks from the top drawer for me? My leg, you know?”

She made a face. “Why’d you put your socks there?”

“Safekeeping.”

She rolled her eyes and laughed. “Okay, weirdo.” Sure enough, she pulled the drawer Link used for his trinkets—bookmarks he wasn’t using, a gum packet filled that he’d pop into his mouth at random—and saw one single pair of socks. “You’re so strange sometimes, Link.”

But when she grabbed the fat, rolled up ball of socks, it wasn’t soft. She met with the sharp corner of an object inside.

Glancing at Link in confusion, he just watched her, his eyes on hers with a slight gleam in them, one he was trying hard not to show.

Suspicious of his expression, she unrolled the socks and for maybe the fifth time that day, she absolutely froze. It was a ring box.

“Can I open it?” she asked in a surprised whisper.

“Well, it’s yours if you want it, so of course you can.”

Inside was a simple diamond on a gold band, one that Zelda recognized immediately.

She closed the lid and bit her lip as tears aggressively sprang to her eyes, and she crossed the room to throw her arms back around Link, burying her head straight back into his neck. When she pulled away, her tears left two streaks of clean on his dirty skin. Still, she couldn’t bring herself to care and kissed him long and hard.  

“How long have you had this?”

“Two weeks or so? I spoke to your father a while ago about it, but I had to get it sized.”

“And was willing to give it to you? He gave up my mother’s ring?”

“Well, he gave it to you, technically. I’m not the one wearing it.”

She wiped her eyes and held out the box. “So, this actually isn’t spur of the moment?”

He shrugged, “I was thinking of asking on our anniversary, so maybe the timing is a little bit, but not the sentiment.”

“Please, don’t get on your knee, but will you do me the honors?”

“Of course,” he said, grabbing the ring and tossing the box onto the bed before sliding it onto her finger, letting out an audibly relieved breath.

Zelda pulled him into a quick kiss before giggling giddily. “Why are you so nervous? Did you actually think I’d say no?”

Link made a face. “No. I thought it wouldn’t fit. I borrowed one of your other rings and just prayed to the Goddess that it was a ring for the right finger.”

“You’re so cocky, Link,” she chuckled.  

“Just in love.”

“Shut up,” she laughed before she really found herself laughing. “Oh Goddess, Link… you just proposed to me in your underwear.”

He looked down, bruise on his thigh still glaring at him. “Yep, I did. On par with us though, I think.”

“We’ll have to leave that detail out when anyone asks.”

“Why? Do people really think you’ve never seen me without pants before? We’ve been living together forever.”

“Oh sure, let me remind my father that I’m used to seeing you without pants.” She shrugged in mock disgust.

He chuckled and spun her so she was in front of him, and he rested his chin on her shoulder. “Maybe not, but speaking of no pants, I really do need a shower. And since you’ve been jumping all over me, you now also reek of fire and need a shower. And it just so happens I know one that’s about to be running.”

“Is that so?” she laughed. “And I thought today was going to be a bad day when you had to run into a burning building.”

“Nah, I had someone I trust calling the shots on the other end of the radio. Hearing her voice while I’m stressed at work is never a bad day.”

Zelda pulled him by the hand towards the bathroom, her ring shimmering in the lamplight. “No, that’s not a bad day at all.”

[stxleslyds]

Can you please do the list of Jason's and Dick's skills and how good they are at it compared to other skilled people? Of course only if you want to.

Hi! Thank you for the ask anon! I am sorry that it took me so long to answer your ask, I found myself going back and forth with how I wanted to write this out.

Just a heads up, the skills that I will depict here are the ones that I remember and found are attributed to each character in the current timeline. I think it’s important for me to say this because this current Dick Grayson has been nerfed greatly compared to his pre-New 52 counterpart. As for Jason, he has had many things incorporated into his training and some others have been completely erased (even though some of Jason’s training was erased he hasn’t been nerfed by any means).

When I say that Dick has been nerfed, I mean that some of his abilities have been erased in canon and some others have been washed down as the reboots happened.

Now, let me do a little ranting before I jump into listing Dick and Jason’s skills.

If you search for Jason’s skill set in wikis and other places, they might include his Lost Days training as something that he still has but as of New 52 and Rebirth that training has been erased and replaced with Talia sending Jason to the All-Castle right after he came out of the Lazarus Pit.

Also, while many places say that the Lazarus Pit has granted Jason regeneration and the ability to not age, I can safely say that those things aren’t true. As far as I know, the Lazarus Pit can only heal injuries, physical and mental (to a certain extent for the last one).

I assume that the concept of Jason “not being able to age” comes from the fact that Ra’s Al Ghul has the ‘longevity ability’ because “through the use of the Lazarus Pit, Ra's has acquired a greatly extended lifespan, allowing him to live a near-immortal life for centuries”, the thing with this is that Ra’s uses the Lazarus Pit fairly often, Jason only used it once.

So, just to be clear, Jason can age just like any other human character, and the regeneration ability is also untrue because Jason spent a long time recovering from his injuries after the “Death of the Family” event and RHatO vol.2 #25.

Also, there has been no proof of Jason actually having magical abilities (after being submerged in the Lazarus Pit). The All-Blades are summoned through his soul but he doesn’t do magic with them and the summoning was mastered after non-magical training. And the “Magic Negation” move is an arcane martial art move.

Wow, sorry I spent so much time explaining my line of thinking. But I can be confusing when I talk so I thought it would be better if I explained my thought process a bit. I promise I am done though; I will now start listing Dick and Jason’s abilities.

Let’s start with Dick!

Acrobatics.

Aviation.

Criminology.

Espionage.

Genius Level Intellect.

Disguise (Acting).

Escapology.

Leadership.

Multilingualism (12 Languages).

Indomitable Will.

Martial Arts (Boxing, Eskrima, Ninjitsu, Stick Fighting)

Peak Human Condition (Strength, Speed, Stamina, Agility, Reflexes, Durability).

Throwing (Escrima sticks, Wingdings)

Weaponry (Escrima sticks, Firearms, Swords)

Abilities learnt with Batman:

Eidetic Memory.

Forensic Science.

Investigation.

Tactical Analysis.

Tracking.

Interrogation.

Intimidation.

Stealth.

Surveillance.

Jason’s Turn!

Aviation.

Computer Hacking.

Genius Level Intellect.

Indomitable Will.

Martial Arts (Dim Mak, Kung Fu, Muay Thai, Tae Kwon Do, Wing Chun).

Multilingualism.

Occultism.

Peak Human Condition (Strength, Speed, Stamina, Agility, Reflexes, Durability).

Weaponry (Firearms, Master Swordsman)

Abilities learnt with Batman:

Investigation.

Tracking.

Interrogation.

Intimidation.

Stealth.

Surveillance.

Abilities learnt with the All-Castle:

Summoning of the All-Blades.

Abilities learnt with Talia Al Ghul:

Magic Negation (a martial arts move)

All in all, both of them are incredibly well trained. There are abilities that one of them has and the other doesn’t. Jason has had more training outside of Batman’s teachings due to Talia having taken Jason to the All-Castle after he was submerged in the Lazarus Pit. And he was also trained by some of the members of the League of Assassins, like Lady Shiva.

If I were to compare Jason and Dick’s abilities with, let’s say, Barbara, Tim, Stephanie, and Damian, I would say that Jason and Dick are far more well trained and knowledgeable than them. Cass could beat both of them in hand-to-hand combat but I feel like it would still be a long fight for Dick and Cass or Jason and Cass, maybe Jason would have a harder time with her because he is so big compared to her.

I would even go as far as to say that both Jason and Dick could take down Batman if they really wanted to. Let’s say that for some reason Dick and Bruce or Jason and Bruce decide to battle it out with everything they have got, then I would say that the odds are in Dick and Jason’s favour.

Now, those comparisons that I just made, I did them with uncertainty because I don’t keep up with any of those characters. When it comes to DC I really don’t go beyond Dick and Jason centred content. I don’t even read Batman (I only read it if there is an event that has Dick or Jason as a major player).

So, I don’t really feel comfortable comparing their skill sets with other people, what I don’t know I prefer to not talk about. I was being a little cheeky with those comparisons that I made before; they are very surface level.

I can talk about what has actually happened in comics though. From a combat perspective I can say this:

Jason was able to master the “Magic Negation” move with little training from Talia, and she hadn’t even mastered it way back when she was training him before he became Robin (yeah, that was a thing that happened in zero year, RHatO vol.1 #25). So that would give you a little insight on how overpowered Jason has been written in the past 10 years.

The second time that he did that move he used it against Ra’s al Ghul, that Ra’s was charged up with the power of the Untitled but in reality, the power wasn’t strong at all because Ra’s didn’t have enough “soul” for the Untitled to latch on to. Jason, however, was able to channel that power and the All-Blades against him. All that should have drained Jason pretty quickly but he had the whole “chosen one” thing going on for him. Here is where the magic aspect of Jason would come from but I am still not sure that Jason can actually manipulate or do magic, I feel like it’s more like letting something like the All-Blades or the Untitled latch on to you like a parasite (that will kill you if it does it for too long) to get a boost in power. Maybe you or somebody else sees that as magic but I don’t.

So, overall, I would say that Jason is a very strong opponent. But you have to take into consideration that weapons like the All-Blades aren’t accessible to him at all times, they only can be summoned when true evil is presenting itself as a threat to Jason and they consume/corrupt his soul, so their power isn’t unlimited either.

Dick is a very strange case because while he was able to fight and defeat a proper Talon and a ‘second-hand’ Talon (that was still a notable opponent) in the New 52 run and he was able to defeat his enemies just fine, in Rebirth things took a dark turn, all of his skills were either gone or watered down by a lot, he was everyone’s punching bag. 

As time went on though Dick seemed to be written better and he fought Cheshire and some LoA people fairly easily and so on. But then… Ric happened and the whole manipulation and being played with as if he were a toy happened and that set his characterization on fire again. He defeated Jason easily when he was under Joker’s control but he was sloppy against Barbara so, there isn’t really a lot of rhyme or reason in that one.

After he regained his memories mid-way Joker War, he was an excellent fighter all of the sudden and everything was easy for him. When the event ended and he was Nightwing again he didn’t only beat KGBeast (the one that had shot him) but he absolutely humiliated him, it was like Dick snapped.

Now, under Tom Taylor’s writing, Dick is… I don’t want to say dumb because he isn’t, but I will just say that Taylor isn’t doing Dick any favours. He promised us a lot of things, like giving Dick the respect and level of expertise that he deserves but so far, I have seen none of it.

Something that has to be taken into consideration is that Dick isn’t fully recovered from his head injury, so, he is written as not as skilled as he is supposed to be and he is also making decisions that aren’t good for his health because if you run the risk of falling unconscious in the middle of a fight, you shouldn’t be fighting at all.

From Batman’s training’s perspective, I can say this:

Dick has always given me the “mentee surpasses his mentor” vibes. He is a better detective and he is also overall better than Batman in what he taught him and also at being Batman. Sadly, just like his combat, his detective skills along with all the other Bat training have been watered down for Dick. It’s absolutely awful, DC has been doing Dick dirty for far too long.

I wish I could say that things are picking up for Dick now, but Tom Taylor put “drama” as his priority instead of giving Dick back the skill-set that he once had (I know, I complained about Tom Taylor’s lack of action before but I really needed to do it again).

Jason has been done dirty too when it comes to his detective skills and other Bat training, mostly in Urban Legends: Cheer but quite honestly it wasn’t as bad as what they did to Dick. Jason has never really been as good as a detective as Bruce or Dick so yeah. But there is a clear difference between the Jason that we have now and the one that appeared in UtRH.

So, I would say that as of now Jason and Dick are treated as if they were on the same level detective/bat training-wise, which I think isn’t fair to Dick. Because he should be better in those aspects than Jason (or, at least, that’s how I see it).

I really don’t know if this answer is what you wanted or if it is good at all but I hope that if you read this you don’t end up feeling like I wasted your time.

I promise I will get better at answering asks! And I hope you have a wonderful day anon!

[writingquestionsanswered]

hi! i was wondering if you have any advice for writing that feels juvenile at times? when i write action scenes/serious scenes i feel my writing is fine but when i have slower chapters where my characters are bonding, etc. i feel like my writing makes the scene come off childish. do you have any tips for that? i’m not sure if it’s just in my head honestly. thanks!

Help for Writing That Feels Juvenile in Places

Here are some of the things that commonly make writing feel juvenile:

#1 - Scene Problems

1. Scene is Aimless - If you don’t know where the scene is going or what it’s trying to accomplish, you’re going to end up with a meandering jumble of moments that isn’t fun to read. What is the purpose of your scene? Why does it absolutely have to be in the story?

2. Scene is Unbalanced - Every scene should be a balancing act between exposition (explaining things), dialogue (characters speaking), and action (someone does something.) If your scene is mostly exposition, mostly dialogue, or mostly action, the balance will be off and it will feel amateurish.

Read more in my post: Balancing Dialogue with Action and Narrative 

3. Scene Doesn’t Accomplish Enough - Scenes need to do double, triple, or even quadruple duty. They should accomplish at least two of the following: world building/setting description, development of characters and/or character relationships, delivery of back story or other important information, setting things up for future scenes. If you have a whole scene focused on just characters bonding, that’s going to be boring which makes it feel amateurish.

4. Scene Starts Too Early - One hallmark of amateur writing is scenes that start way before they should. If the bulk of your scene takes place in your character’s 10 a.m. biology class, do we really need to see your character wake up that morning, brush her teeth, put on her clothes, and walk to class? Unless anything story critical happens during that period it shouldn’t be there. Start with the character walking into biology, not the moment she opens her eyes that day.

Read more in my post: Beginning a New Scene or Chapter

5. Scene Has Weak Transitions - Scenes work best when you transition into them from the last scene and out of them into the next scene. For example, if your scene ends with your character sitting at home thinking about an upcoming trip to Mexico, and you know the next scene begins with your character boarding her flight, you might end the scene with her looking at her flight confirmation e-mail and thinking about how she can’t wait to get out of town. Then, the next chapter begins with her standing in line to board her flight, looking around and thinking about how she won’t miss her town, then handing the plane ticket to the gate agent. This makes the transition from one scene to the next less abrupt and more refined.

Read more in my post: Subtle Scene Transitions

#2 - Dialogue Problems

1. Too Much Dialogue - Even if you have a good balance of dialogue, exposition, and action, it’s still possible to have too much dialogue. Look at every line and ask whether it’s really necessary. Make sure every line is as straight and to the point as possible. Determine whether something said might work better as exposition.

2. Overly Realistic Dialogue - We want dialogue to feel real, but real dialogue also looks terrible on paper, so it’s important not to go overboard. Avoid a lot of interjections like “um,” “uh,” “ugh,” and “hmm.” (Use them sparingly.) Watch out for “small talk.” Don’t write five lines worth of back and forth about your character’s experience in a coffee shop unless what happened is somehow critical to the plot. Don’t go overboard with idioms, wisecracks, and one-liners, and as tempting as it is, don’t have your characters say each other’s names all the time. We typically only use names in dialogue when we’re really trying to get someone’s attention.

3. Stilted Dialogue - Sometimes dialogue sounds stiff and overly formal, which makes it sound amateurish. For example: “I do not know what you’re talking about! We have been dating for over a month. It is not as though we are perfect strangers!” Most people in modern times don’t speak like that. We use contractions and we don’t use words like “thus” and “must” unless we’re being silly. But, there are reasons why a character might speak like that. In my book, one of the characters comes from a super upper class society where using contractions is considered to be vulgar. That’s fine, but don’t do it unless you have a good reason. 4. Misuse of Dialogue & Action Tags - This is a really big one. Dialogue and action tags are what let the reader know who’s speaking: Dialogue tag: “Let’s get out of here,” Harold said.   Action tag: Harold stood up and jutted his chin toward the door. “Let’s get out of here.” 

Every line of dialogue doesn’t need a tag, and you should also alternate between no tag, action tags, and dialogue tags.

Also: there’s absolutely nothing wrong with using “said” as a dialogue tag. In fact, you should be using “said” most often. Replacing “said” with words like: “yelled,” “posited,” “offered,” “whispered,”  “demanded” once in a while is fine, but doing it too often makes your writing sound juvenile.

Read more in my post: Avoiding Repetition with Dialogue Tags

5. Dialogue is Unnatural - Dialogue can be a great way to deliver information to the reader, but you have to be careful about how you do it. For example, let’s say you want to describe the dress your character’s friend is wearing. 

But: “Oh, wow, Rosie! You look so great in this green floral print dress. These spaghetti straps are so cute, and I love the matching green shoes!” 

That’s just now how we speak in real life. You would never say that to someone. Instead, it would be better like this:

Rosie walked in wearing a green floral print dress with matching shoes. “Wow! Spaghetti straps? This is a new look for you. I love it!”

Any time you include important information in dialogue, read it out loud. Act it out if you have to. Ask yourself if it sounds natural. If not, keep it outside of the dialogue.

#3-  Other Common Problems

1. Too Many Cliches - Remember, tropes are good, cliches are bad. Cliches are tropes that have been used the same way over and over again. It’s fine if you want to use a trope like love triangles or “the chosen one,” just find a way to put a fresh new spin on it.

Read more in my post: Tropes, Clichés, & Finding Which  Clichés to Avoid

2. Tense/POV Switching - Make sure you know what tense and POV you’re writing in and stick with it. Yes--there are times when you might choose to include both tenses or first and third person in your story as a storytelling device, but generally speaking you shouldn’t be falling out of third-person into first-person, or going from past tense in one paragraph to present tense in the next.

Read more in my master post: POV & Tense

3. Head Hopping - If you’re writing in first-person, your POV character can only know what they already know, can observe, or are told. If your character is people watching at the mall, they can’t know what another shopper is thinking or what’s happening at home right now unless they’re psychic or there’s some other reason why they know that. If you’re writing in third-person and we’re in Susan’s POV, we shouldn’t go from what she’s thinking to what John right next to her is thinking in one paragraph.

4. Telling vs Showing - Yes, sometimes you need to tell, but a lot of the time you should be showing. “The moon hung high in the sky” isn’t as interesting as “moonlight scattered on the surface of the lake.”

Read more in my post: When “Telling” is Okay

5. No Structure - Good stories fall a general structure beyond just “beginning, middle, and "end.” Stories that are devoid of structure feel disorganized and pointless, which can be another hallmark of amateur writing.

Read more in my post: Basic Story Structure

————————————————————————————————-

Have a question? My inbox is always open, but make sure to check my FAQ and post master lists first to see if I’ve already answered a similar question. :)

[sarunohadaki]

DQXI/Great British Bake-Off Crossover

Crossover week: Home | 1 | 2 | 3| 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 |

This story idea in particular is very near and dear to my heart because when I first arrived in the SOS discord server, I mentioned it, and I got to talk with a lot of cool people for a long time about it. A lot of people seemed to love the idea, and Cicada even made art for it! 😭

It’s my favorite crossover idea and would be the most intricate to write. More under the cut because it’s another long post. (very long. With graphics. What is this, an essay?)

Spoilers for a potential future Saru fic.

Funny-but-I’m-not-using-these fic title ideas: Baking Bananaza, Fluff — and not just Meringue

Relationships: Gen or M/M (depending on how heavy the luminerik will come out)

Premise: Erik is a graduate student studying biogeochemistry with a particular interest in peat bogs in the UK. He interviews and gets on the show after Mia nags him to do it in the hopes that it’ll have a monetary reward, but as they soon find out, there’s no money involved. Erik participates anyway, figuring it’ll be a fun thing to do and help him hone his skills for the next time his sister randomly begs him to make éclairs at two in the afternoon.

He doesn’t really know what to expect, having never watched the show before, and is initially a little overwhelmed when he meets other amateur bakers from all over the country.

Twelve contestants enter the tent, but only one will come out on top. Who will it be?

Initial plan is to have none of the characters be related or know each other aside from the twins and Hendrik/Jasper. I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to have Rab related to El and so on and so forth, but I think it would be funner to have all the characters meet for the first time and develop friendships from there.

Everyone’s occupations are picked directly from my self-indulgent wants, haha.

And then here are some epithets, since the show uses things like this sometimes:

The structure of the fic

I initially thought it would be fun to do it sort of like a screenplay, but I am most comfortable writing in third person limited. BUT when you do it that way, you lose out on all the other disasters that are happening around the tent because you are only seeing what Erik’s seeing. And it would get boring after one episode to tell the reader, “I am now making this cake and following these directions.”

To combat this, I think it would be cool to do the omniscient POV for most of it, with the intention of writing it like an episode on TV. This would be interspersed with Erik’s director cut of events because he and Mia are watching the events play out while watching TV on the couch.

This would give us a chance to have Erik say, “Huh I didn’t realize the workstation behind me was almost literally on fire because I was too distracted trying to not over-mix my batter.” (Or staring distractedly into the back of ur crush’s head in front of you)

Plot

The short of it is you get to see a bunch of characters hang out and bake stuff semi-competitively! The long of it is, well… let me show you.

Each chapter is an episode

The Great British Bake Off usually has about 10 episodes, each with three challenges: the signature, technical, and showstopper. Whoever performs the worst holistically in each episode is eliminated. I have already roughly determined how that will play out based on some things I saw on a wiki. So, here’s the progression as it stands (don’t worry if it looks complicated at first — I can explain!):

To read this chart, each number refers to the episode. So, to see how people performed in episode 1, go to 1 and read down the column. From episode 1, you can see Erik, El, and Hendrik did well, while Ronnie and Faris did not. Vince got booted. Doing things this way, you can see Sylv had a few rough patches before they were eliminated, while El — the sweet boy — was never on the judges’ “least favourite bakers” list (alongside Jade, Rab, or Serena!)

This isn’t the final thing, and maybe there are patches that don’t make sense, but for a skeleton, it’s pretty useful for thinking up interesting plot points.

For example, Vince gets eliminated after baking an unchewable cake, and Sylv keeps pushing the envelope on how flamboyant their bakes can be in showstopper challenges, which lands them in trouble. Veronica really messes up in one episode and makes the food way too spicy.

Recipes

Okay. So you thought that chart was complicated, then behold this! Charts detailing any and every challenge from the Great British Bake Off from series 1-10, including signature, technical, and showstopper challenges with hour constraints where I could find them. Compiled from various wiki pages into one Google doc.

Potential problem: I don’t know if it would be plagiarizing to take various challenges and put them in a fic, and even more worrisome, if I could include recipes or just rip off what former contestants made. To create everything from scratch (pun intended) would take a lot of work. Based on the elimination chart, there are 225 instances of something being baked. Do you know how much work that is. (It goes down to 160 unique dishes when you take into account technical challenges all being the same recipe.)

In recent series (the gbbo say “series” and not “season”), they have had a few episodes such as “the ’80s,” “vegan,” and “forgotten bakes,” along with such classics as cakes, biscuits, etc. Pretty much every season includes the following episodes: Cakes (episode 1), biscuits (2), bread (3), desserts (~4), pastry (~6), patisserie (9), and a final challenge (episode 10). That leaves you with about 3 or 4 unique challenges each series unless you cut out one of those staple weeks, such as pastry. (Also, for anyone wondering the difference between pastry and patisserie: Pastry is a type of dough with fat and patisserie is a style of baking.)

This is where I said things were going to get intricate. Sometimes the details are what really sell a fic for me. Remember the five senses or that random thing that no one cares about but helps fill in the setting or make the story feel more alive. Having a masterful grasp of which characters are cooking what without overwhelming the reader would be difficult. Unlike TV, the reader is keeping track of all of this in their head!

I am no stranger to plopping some HTML into my fics from time to time and maybe that could help? To include graphics of what each person is baking, kind of like those… idk, “recipe blueprints” the narrator talks over where they tell you what the contestant is making and then they give you an illustrated piece of what the dish is supposed to look like.

Anyway, that’s a lot of work and I think just telling the reader, “he’s making this and I’m making this” would prolly suffice.

Why does any of this matter?

Because it’s fun. Because all of the characters will exchange jokes and poke at each other and I had plans to make Jasper and Hendrik have past beef and maybe Jasper throws food at Hennie or something. And also the pining for Elian would be very persistent. Erik and El have some stuff in common and their stations are right next to each other, maximizing the potential for banter and small talk about trying to manage school and this baking show thing at the same time.

In my heart, Erik wins because he’s the one who gets to date El at the end, but El is the hero so I know he’s the one who wins the show. And Hendrik has a secret baking sweet tooth so of course he comes in close third. (That is to prepare Hendrik for baking cakes for Jasper later.)

Unlike 80% of my fic ideas that are fusions, I think this one might be a legitimate crossover with people like Paul Hollywood, Merry Berry, and Noel Fielding. Sylv might slot into being a host, too.

[tallycraven]

A small continuation of “brainwashed” 👀 a small moment where Scylla helps to calm down Raelle, the first time Raelle attempts to touch her. But her hands start to shake uncontrollably with a bad headache. Scylla comforts her by being forehead to forhead with Raelle and telling her to concentrate on her smell to get her to relax.

haha oops my finger slipped here’s a 1.8k word addendum to this (; 

(pt. 1) (pt. 2) (pt. 3) (pt. 4)

also available on ao3!

Raelle still feels like a monster sometimes, Scylla knows. She’s seen moments where Raelle flinches at her own reflection or adamantly avoids looking at it. She’s watched Raelle double and triple-check her pockets and make lists for the smallest of tasks. All things to help herself stay stable; all things recommended to her by her therapist. 

Scylla also knows that Raelle tiptoes around her. She treats Scylla like the most delicate of snowflakes on a bright sunny winter day and almost never lets herself touch Scylla the way she wants to. And Scylla understands. She gets that it’s hard and painful and takes time. It’s not like she doesn’t have scars from what happened. 

So, she survives on grazing touches and brief hugs, prolonged contact through clothes when they sit close to each other. She lets herself miss Raelle’s kisses and imagines the day that Raelle will finally let herself touch Scylla again. She remembers and relives their first time together, their second time, all the times after that, waking up in the same bed and feeling Raelle’s fingers press hard into her hips. 

It’s nothing close to reality, but it’s enough to keep Scylla grounded. 

Healing takes time, Tally said once, when she and Scylla were waiting for Izadora to finish helping Raelle with her weekly fixing session. No matter how much you want her to give it to ya. 

Scylla giggles at the memory; remembers the way Tally had wiggled her eyebrows and shifted her hips in an attempt to entertain her. 

“What’re you laughing at?” Raelle asks, head perking up from looking at the comics in the newspaper in front of her. 

They’re settled on the couch in the Bellweather beach estate— a house that’s become a home for the four of them over the past few months. Scylla’s been spacing out, repeatedly reading the same paragraph in some book Abigail gave her for the past ten minutes and intaking none of it, while Raelle’s been going over the Sunday paper. 

(Keeping up with current events is a good way to stay present, according to some Fort Salem-assigned brain fixer; but Raelle only ever reads the comics and half-asses the crossword.)

They’re sat by each other’s sides, like usual. Close enough that Raelle’s knee can bump into Scylla’s thigh whenever she shifts.

“Oh, nothing.” Scylla smiles, moving so she’s sitting with her legs crossed and facing Raelle, choosing to give her a tiny bit more distance between them. “Just remembered something Tally said.” 

The crinkle the forms between Raelle’s brows is downright endearing. 

“What’d she say?” Raelle turns to mirror Scylla’s posture until they’re both facing each other on the couch with their legs crossed.

Scylla weighs her options briefly before remembering that truth is a virtue that she’s been learning to master. Especially when it comes to Raelle. 

She takes a small breath and smiles. “Uh. Said that you’re gonna need time and I should be patient about wanting you to touch me until then. Which is absolutely true and I’m willing to wait forev–”

“I do want to touch you.” Raelle says, quickly and all in one breath so that it comes out sounding more like ‘Idowannatouchyou.’

It takes Scylla’s mind a little bit to catch up, deciphering the words that sounded for a brief moment like another language and then unraveling the bundle of emotions that said words have given life to in her chest.

Scylla must spend too long looking at Raelle in wonder, because Raelle’s suddenly beet red and staring down at her hands. They’re trembling, but it’s not the worst that they’ve seen. She’s made a lot of progress.

Raelle presses her palms against her thighs and takes a deep breath. 

“I do want to touch you.” She repeats, this time slower. “It’s just. M’nervous.” 

The emotions in Scylla’s chest melt into something soft and sad and full of love. She scoots herself a little closer to Raelle —slowly, of course— and holds a hand out, palm up, and waits. 

Raelle looks from Scylla’s face to her palm, recognizes the offer and places her own palm by it. 

Scylla traces a familiar ‘S’ and watches its twin bloom in Raelle’s palm. She lets it fade slowly before grazing her pinky along the side of Raelle’s hand and very slowly brings her own hand against Raelle’s. 

The tremors are smaller now, but Scylla’s focusing on the touch of Raelle’s hand against hers. The pads of her fingers pressed against the base of Scylla’s palm and the warmth of Raelle’s own palm radiating against her fingers.

Scylla shifts ever closer until their knees bump and stay touching. She’s watching Raelle’s face to tell for any telltale signs of the need to run and finds only concentration.

Raelle’s taking slow but shaky breaths, eyebrows furrowed with her jaw tensing and untensing. For a moment, Scylla considers pulling back. But she knows that would upset Raelle; it would launch her into a cycle of blaming herself for not healing fast enough.

“Is this okay?” She asks instead.

Raelle’s nod is hurried. “Yeah, it’s good.”

She presses forward some more, leaning so that her forehead bumps lightly against Raelle’s. She can feel Raelle’s unsteady breaths and the tension in her temples. Her hands are starting to shake more despite how hard Raelle is staring at them.

“Hey, focus on me, yeah?”  

Raelle swallows and stays silent, clenches her eyes closed in that way she does when the headaches start to pick up.

Scylla takes her hands in her own, fully now, lacing their fingers together and letting Raelle manage the tightness of the grasp. It’s slow and careful, but Raelle holds on tightly while Scylla rubs gentle circles against Raelle’s thumb with her own.

“I love you.” Scylla whispers. “I love you and I’m real and you won’t hurt me.”

Raelle’s breath catches at that and her eyes open for a split second before slamming shut again, tighter as she tries to push away memories of cold bodies and betrayal and violence unbecoming.

Scylla backtracks. She brings Raelle’s hands up to her lips and presses soft kisses to her fingers.

“Stay with me.”

Raelle swallows and nods, eyes closed and hands clenched around Scylla’s.

“Do you hear the ocean?”

A nod.

There’s a window open somewhere, letting in the sound of the Atlantic’s waves crashing against the shore.

“Can you feel my hands?”

Another nod, hesitant.

They sit in silence like that, hands together and pressed as close as Raelle’s nerves will let them. Minutes tick by and Scylla’s lost in the warmth of being so close to Raelle. She finds that she’d be okay if they just stayed like this for the rest of forever.

Raelle’s voice is quiet when she finally speaks. “You smell nice.”

Scylla can’t help the small laugh that bubbles out of her; can’t explain the tears that spring forth from her eyes or the way her chest tightens with incomprehensible affection.

“New shampoo.” She supplies in what she hopes to be an easy fashion.

Another minute passes and Raelle’s hands have stilled and her breathing is slower, calmer.

When Raelle speaks again, it’s with a new kind of nervousness. Something more innocent, less rooted in fear.

“Can I kiss you?”

Scylla would scold herself for nodding like an eager teenager if she weren’t already tilting her lips and catching Raelle’s between them.

It’s slow and careful, like Raelle’s learning how to kiss Scylla for the first time. It’s so polarizing and different from the first time they ever kissed that Scylla’s brain is doing looping circles. She’s trying to remember this moment, seal the way Raelle’s breath catches when their lips meet as a gasping rush of hot breath pushes itself past her own. Just in case Raelle needs to pull away for space again.

Scylla tries to memorize every push and pull; to be slow and careful instead of giving in to the base need for Raelle that lives inside of her. Of course, her body wins out—like it always does—to the feeling of Raelle against her, dropping her hands to pull Scylla onto her lap with a whispered, “Is this okay?”

Which, yes, yes it very much is okay for Scylla but she just has to check with, “Is this okay for you?”

Raelle’s hasty nod bumps her nose against Scylla’s and draws twin laughter from both of them before they meet in another kiss. Still slow and careful, but deeper this time as Raelle’s fingers spread across the small of Scylla’s back and press firmly while she gives an exploratory lick into Scylla’s mouth.

And gods after months of grazing touches and second-long hugs, Scylla thinks she might melt under the heat of Raelle’s kiss.

Slow and shy has given way to greedy want; Raelle’s hands grasp tightly against the back of Scylla’s shirt and they’re properly pressed together now. Scylla can feel the hard lines of Raelle’s muscles through her shirt, lean and lithe and so fucking unfair.  

She can’t stop the borderline-sinful groan that escapes her when Raelle cants her hips up instinctively to press deeper into the kiss. She’s humming. Her body’s pounding in time with her heart in a way that she can feel the desperate beat in her fingertips.

And then Raelle pulls away, eyes clouded but worried and careful.

“Are you okay?”

Scylla’s breathless, confounded at how kisses could render her body into a mess of pulses and need. But she manages the nod and smiles, drawing slow breaths of oxygen into her grateful lungs.

“Sorry, that…” she huffs a small laugh, “wasn’t what I was planning, I promise.”

Raelle has fallen quiet again, pulling her bottom lip (kiss-swollen and so so tempting) between her teeth and sucking on it for a second.

“I’m sorry if I rushed—” Raelle starts.

“No!” Scylla cuts her off, hands coming to rest on Raelle’s shoulders as she shakes her head. “No, no, it’s okay. I’m okay. Are you?”

Raelle draws her lip back between her teeth and bites, her brows furrow but her eyes never leave Scylla’s.

Scylla immediately shifts when Raelle doesn’t answer, already moving to climb off her lap, but is stopped when Raelle’s hands grip and pull her back against her.

“No, I’m—” Raelle husks, “Please stay?”

All Scylla can do is nod, eyes scanning Raelle’s face for signs, anything that’ll tell her what to do.

She smiles softly, brings one of Raelle’s hands up from her hip to her lips and presses a soft kiss to her knuckles. Her other hand finds its way to Raelle’s face, brushes carefully along the jagged scar on her cheek while Raelle leans into it.

“Slower?” Scylla asks.

Raelle nods, eyes fluttering closed. “Thank you.”

Their calm is disturbed by the sound of the front door opening and closing followed by the footsteps of the only two people it could be approaching the living room.

Scylla can’t even bring herself to move off of Raelle, it’s too warm and comfy, so she just braces for what comes next.

“It’s about damn time.” Comes Abigail’s voice as she falls backwards onto an armchair opposite them.

“Abigail!” Tally scolds, trailing in after her while shedding her jacket. She turns to Scylla and Raelle (who’s adamantly staring at Scylla’s collarbones instead of paying attention to her unit mates) with a smile, “Congrats, you two.”

[joezworld]

Fools in Love (8/10)

Double Date, Quadruple Header

1980

"And the last item on the agenda..." said the inspector as he assigned locomotives to trains. "There is a series of special trains going to Suddery from the mainland on this coming Sunday. 46 040, you and 35 102 will take the morning arrivals, and more engines will be assigned at a later time."

"Wow," said Delta with a healthy dose of sarcasm and faux cheer - she didn’t like this inspector and his clear bias towards steam engines. A special train from him could easily be carrying garbage. "A special! Is it a special special, or is it a really special special?"

"I hope it's a special special special, with special carriages." Bear said with equal sarcasm. "Then everything will be specially special!"

"Special has ceased to be a real word now." Duck said in a small voice while the inspector glared over the top of his spectacles.

"You will find out on Sunday." He said firmly. "Now get to work."

Bear and Delta arrived at Barrow on the front of separate trains - the Limited and the Express, to find the yard in disarray.

A seething Class 08 was shuttling back and forth while the trucks laughed at him. Bear, who had arrived second, watched as Delta didn't even try to help, and instead was mocking the 08 as he hurled insults at her, the trucks and the coaches.

This didn’t make the shunter any happier, and he began bumping and banging coaches until a particularly bold rake of third class carriages slipped their brakes on and refused to move an inch, trapping the disagreeable shunter deep inside a siding.

To make matters worse, none of the cars for the "incredibly special specials" had arrived yet. The trains were late arriving in Barrow, and the Yard Master was tearing out what little of his hair remained.

Noon arrived, and so did Edward, bringing a train of ballast wagons from Arlesburgh. "Oliver failed." He gasped, not having been remotely ready for a cross-island jaunt on a heavy train. "So this missed Bear's goods and- oh, hello Bear."

Bear grimaced. "There hasn't been a goods train yet - I'm still waiting on my special."

"Oh." Edward paled. "Well that would explain why BoCo was so frantic."

Bear and Delta winced. If a freight train was canceled it was usually folded into the next pick-up goods; BoCo was probably having to flat-shunt a quarter mile long train at each station, the poor engine.

After having a drink, Edward was drafted into helping out in the yard, and was soon sorting out the mess, although he did leave the 08 in the yards until last - the third class coaches had some choice words for him, and they were not brief!

At this point, BoCo finally arrived, or rather, his train did - Toad the brakevan was on the leading end, while a plume of steam wafted into the air from near the back.

"Mister BoCo had engine troubles." Toad explained. "So we left him at the works and Mister Henry had to push. His passengers aren’t pleased about that!"

They weren't. As Edward and the 08 sorted the massive train, the passengers swarmed out of the coaches, unsure of who to be upset at but hopping mad nonetheless.

"We've surely missed our connection!" They shouted at the stationmaster, who wrung his hands before telling them that the connection hadn't even arrived yet!

"There’s been a signal failure further up the line, " he said nervously. "So no train has been able to get through."

Strangely, this didn’t make the passengers any calmer, and Henry was forced to retreat to the sheds to escape their ire.

"Well, I suppose that this day can only get worse..." he muttered darkly as he looked out onto the empty BR line leading inland.

"What makes you say that?" Delta asked, not particularly upset that her "special" was late.

"The concert will be delayed!" Henry cried. "And I was rather looking forward to it - it isn't every day that you get to be tour support for Led Zeppelin!"

"What?" Bear was shocked. "Led Zeppelin is coming to Sodor?"

"Yes," Henry explained. "They're going to the Suddery fairgrounds. They did a show in Germany a few days ago, and they're coming here by train. I’m taking them."

"Really? The Suddery fairgrounds?" Edward asked as he shunted the last of the coaches into place. "But there's barely a gazebo there. How will they perform? It's all muddy!"

"I don't know how they plan on doing it, but my driver is certainly quite eager." Henry looked over at his driver, who was wearing an old band t-shirt over his normal work clothes.

"Make fun all you want, but I will get an autograph!" He yelled at Henry, who rolled his eyes.

"He's been like that all day."

---------

Several hours later, and the special trains still hadn't made an appearance. The stationmaster had attempted to quell the now-riotous passengers by showing a list of delayed trains to them, which did nothing but scare away Edward, who took one look at the large list of delayed goods trains and realized that the lazy 08 would try and make him shunt all of them. When nobody was looking, his crew connected him to an empty stock train and left for Peel Godred, leaving the 08 to have to work for a change.

And not a moment too soon. Edward has just barely disappeared into the distance when the BR home signal dropped, and a pair of furious Class 37s roared into the yard. Too angry for words or help, they banged and slammed their train into a siding by themselves, growled at the 08 as he brought their next train up, and seethed into the distance as fast as their wheels would carry them.

"That was ominous..." Henry said as the home signal dropped again to allow the next train into the yard.

It was... For the next 45 minutes, the yard was practically besieged by train after angry BR train - some over 4 hours late - who raced into the yard, dropped their wagons or disembarked their passengers, picked up new ones, and raced away again. The poor 08 was losing his mind as goods wagons built up around him. The three Sudrians couldn't even help - their shed was on the opposite side of the main line from the yard, and there was no time in between trains for them to wade into the fray and assist. Eventually, as a harried looking DMU rattled across the bridge to Sodor on a through train to Norramby, Bear and Delta were allowed across the main line to pick up their specials from the yard.

Bear had been given a short line of funny-looking vans, while Delta had a longer string of flatcars carrying lumpy shapes covered in tarpaulins.

Problems emerged before they were even coupled up.

"These hoses don't fit." Said one of the men as he tried to connect the brake pipes on Bear's wagons.

Several more attempts were made before the problem was found: the vans were from Germany, and used air brakes, while the two diesels used British vacuum brakes. Neither system was compatible with the other, which meant that this train would have to go without brakes.

An inspection of Delta's wagons revealed that they were also German, and had similar brake lines.

-

"How are there two separate trains from Germany?" Delta asked. "Why didn't they keep them together when they got off the ferry?"

"Ve took two different ferries." Snapped the lead flatcar. "Und ve vere suppozed to be hier three hourz ago!"

-

Hauling an unbraked train was not a huge issue - it merely required more care and a brake van - but a much bigger issue arose when a search for brake vans found only Toad.

"Well that’s torn it," Bear said. "We can't share a brakevan unless we double head our train, and I don’t know where we're even going with these."

"Actually, Mister Bear," Toad interjected as the yardmaster frantically flipped through his train orders to see if the situation could be salvaged. "If you are double-heading two normal length trains, you would need two brake vans then, to counter-act the increased weight. Standard practices." He paused to inspect the train.

"And that's enough wagons that I would recommend a second van and a second engine in the name of safety."

The yardmaster cursed and threw his clipboard to the ground - all of these special trains were going to the same station and he still didn’t have enough vans!?

"Toad, does it have to be brakevans?" Henry called from the platform. His special train had arrived on the back of the most recent passenger train, and unlike the other specials, it was fully braked. "Could we just put it on the back of my train?"

Toad inspected the train - three Pullman carriages and a baggage car. "It's very unusual Mister Henry, but it should just work!"

-

The unusual cavalcade was quickly assembled - Henry and his coaches, then Bear, his wagons, Delta's wagons, Delta herself, and then Toad. This ensured that the unbraked wagons wouldn't slam together and cause trouble, while also providing enough braking power for the entire train.

The unusual makeup of the train attracted the attention of its passengers as well, and the members of Led Zeppelin came out to look at what was going on.

"You know that Rod is going to lose it when he hears about this?" One of them remarked.

"Oh yeah he will. That paint's not prototypical, oh no!" Another man with long blond hair said mockingly as he snapped pictures of Delta and Toad.

"Hey!" Said Delta. "My paint looks amazing!"

The rocker held his hands up. "I mean no disrespect, it's just that one of our friends is into really accurate model trains, and he's going to flip when he sees these pictures!"

"Oh," Delta blushed a little. "Well make sure to get my good side, which is all of my sides!"

The man laughed as he went down the platform to get more pictures.

"Excuse me, Mister Plant?" Toad asked as he came near. "Will you be performing Stairway at tonight's show?"

Robert Plant blinked. "Why yes we are! Are you a fan?" He asked the brake van.

"A little bit sir."

"Well I'll be! We have fans everywhere!"

---

Eventually, the strange train rumbled out of Barrow yard and across the bridge into Sodor.

It was slow going - they were using the path cleared for Henry's train, and it had been timetabled for a much faster speed than the unbraked wagons were allowed to travel at.

By the time they had arrived at Kildane, they were running quite behind even the most generous schedule, and had to wait for other trains to pass.

The electric branch had just received new electric locomotives, but they were nowhere to be seen. Edward was there however, sitting in the yard with a dazed look on his face.

"They're very chatty." He said, sounding quite overwhelmed.

After waiting at the station for about ten minutes, the station master came out and spoke to Henry's driver.

"We need this train taken to Suddery." he said, pointing to a line of ten wagons loaded with aluminum.

"You do know this is a special, right?" Henry’s driver protested. "We can't stop to pick up more cars at every station! Have Edward do it!"

"He can't. Whatever foul-up the mainland is doing has thrown off the schedule for the entire region. There isn't another path until nightfall.” He paused. “You'd probably need to take Edward with you as well, considering that he needs to be in Wellsworth by four."

The stationmaster had phrased this like a request, but it was actually a demand, and so the unusual train got even longer, with Edward and the (thankfully braked) wagons now in front of Henry. On the platform, the members of Led Zeppelin were taking a huge number of photographs, and one - Henry thought his driver had said his name was Jimmy - was at a payphone on the platform, describing the train to a friend. From the sounds of it, the friend was very displeased at the amount of work it would take to recreate this scene on his model railway.

-

After leaving Kildane, there were mercifully no more stops until Wellsworth, where Edward was uncoupled from the train.

Henry quickly realized that there was a problem as he tried to move the train out of the yard. "I can't see anything!" He called back to his driver.

It was true. The wagons stretched so far in front of Henry that it made seeing the rails ahead almost impossible.

Considering that all the aluminum wagons and the Pullman coaches were vacuum braked, it was decided to uncouple Henry and put him in front of the wagons.

This plan was working well, until:

"The coupling is stuck!" Shouted Sean the driver from between Henry and the lead coach.

The coupling links had jammed together at some point, and it would take heavy tools to separate them - heavy tools that weren't on hand, and more importantly, would have broken the links on the chain, meaning that they wouldn’t be able to couple the train back up again!

To make matters worse, neither of the diesels could be attached, as the station at Wellsworth had a single track leading onto the branch from the main line, with the yard beyond it. There was no way for either diesel to reach the front of the train.

Henry, having accepted that this day was going to be one of the longest ones in his life, sighed. "Am I just going to have to go very slow then? Will Led Zeppelin still be popular by the time we get to Suddery?"

"Very funny." His driver said as he tried to think of another way. "We can't even do that - we'd end up delaying Edward's commuter train, and that's about the only thing that hasn't been late tod-"

He was cut off as James clattered into the yard tender-first. "Those menaces at the docks blocked the turntable!" He growled as he was uncoupled from a rake of China Clay wagons, leaving little doubt as to the identity of the menaces.

"Good to see you too James." Henry chuckled at his friend's distress.

"Gah! Henry? What are you doing here!" James yelped. He hadn’t seen Henry.

"Oh you know, just being incredibly late."

"Well don't let me stop you, Old Square Wheels."

"Oh you won't be a bother," Henry said as an idea flew into his smokebox. "Actually, you might be able to help us..."

-

James had no idea who Led Zeppelin was, and quite frankly didn't care, but once Delta shouted at him to show a wheel, he quickly agreed to pilot the train, and they were soon underway.

Suddery fairgrounds had its own sidings and platforms, used for when the annual livestock show takes place, and the train was unloaded in short order. James quickly shunted the aluminum wagons to the goods depot, and then he, Toad and the other engines watched as the lumps under the tarpaulins were revealed to be parts of a massive stage that was rapidly assembled by men who came pouring out of the coaches. Then massive speakers were pulled out of the enclosed wagons, while a number of wheeled cases were removed from the baggage car.

The band, feeling somewhat superfluous, waited near the engines. Bear and Henry felt bad that they weren't bigger Led Zeppelin fans, but were comforted in the fact that they at least knew something about the band, unlike some engines they knew.

Toad, meanwhile, had proved that he was a blatant liar - there was nothing 'little' about his fan status, and he knew more about some songs than the band themselves!

-

Eventually, the stage was built, and the band retreated from the platform to go do a sound test.

The stage was quite close to the platforms, and nobody had been allowed into the venue yet, meaning that:

"Do you lot have any requests?" Shouted Robert Plant over the speaker system.

"IMMIGRANT SONG!" Toad roared before any of the engines could even open their mouths.

-

Night fell over the fairground, and Bear was thankful that none of them were needed for other duties - the fairground was charged with an almost electric atmosphere, and it felt like something special was going to happen.

He looked to Henry at his right, and James and Delta at his left, and realized something else.

"I think," He said slowly. "That this is technically our first date."

"You're right." Henry said with shock. "It's taken us three years, but you're right."

"And ours too..." said Delta quietly. "Jamie, isn't that great? We managed to go on a date!"

James blinked slowly. "Yes we did. And it's a double date at that. By accident no less. We certainly don't do things by half measures!"

He grinned. "If this concert is half as good as that last song, it might be the best first date ever."

"Oh it will be Mister James!" Shouted Toad, who was choosing to ignore whatever the engines were talking about in favor of watching the band tune their instruments.

-

The concert began shortly after 9:30, only slightly behind its posted start time.

The band came out to thunderous applause, and Jimmy Page made the introductions to the audience.

"I just want to thank you all for coming out here tonight - back in 1972, we said that we'd come out here and do a show during our last tour of the United Kingdom, but things happened, and we never made it out here. We said we'd come back, and we never go back on our promises! Even if it takes eight years!"

He paused as the audience applauded once again. "And I also want to give a special thanks to some of our audience tonight. We almost didn't make it here tonight because of some trouble with the train, but those engines back there," he pointed to Henry, Bear, Delta, and James. "Worked like mad to get us here safely and on time, so this first song is dedicated to you!"

The band immediately began playing a hard and heavy rock song. It was an incredibly powerful piece, and the engines looked at each other with glee - this was going to be a hell of a night.

-

Later

As Since I've Been Loving You echoed over the fairgrounds, James quietly whispered to Bear.

"Is this what it feels like for you?"

Bear looked over at James. Even while he directly speaking to another engine, his eyes were glued to Delta, who was enraptured by the music.

"Yes." Bear whispered back. He knew what James meant.

-

The end of the concert was approaching - or so the engines hoped, considering it was almost midnight. Kashmir had taken quite a long time, and while Toad may have been having the time of his life, the engines were feeling the late hour a bit more.

"And this song I want to dedicate - dedicate to a little brake van out there in the train yard," Robert Plant said into the microphone. "Cause he asked for it by name, which means that we've officially got fans everywhere!"

A very recognizable guitar riff began while Toad squeaked in delight.

Henry and Bear looked at each other, and then looked over at James and Delta.  The night could go on for a little bit longer - it wasn’t often you got to see someone hear Stairway to Heaven for the first time. 

[plethora-of-imagines]

Hypnotic Love

AN: @how-masterful and I finished the last Delgado!Master story which inspired me to finish this soft fic in order to help reduce the sadness of it being the last of the new content for him. I have had this sitting in my drafts for ages but I’m finally done and happy with it!

Word Count: 2642

Warnings: hypnosis (consensual)

Description: You wonder about the Master’s thoughts on free will and democracy which lead to a unexpected hypnotic confession.

Tag List: @c-s-stars @queerconfusionthings @how-masterful @truthbehindthemysteries

You tangled your legs with the Master's. Intertwining them together as you shifted your head into a better position over his left heart. You could hear his left heartbeat better than the other with your head now positioned directly over his left heart. The soothing double heartbeat causing you to let out a quiet pleased hum. So quiet that it got caught halfway in your throat, turning it into a slightly strangled hum.

One of the Master's arms was holding you close while the other wandered. Brushing your hair from your face before cradling your face in his gloveless hand. Trailing along the side of your neck before lightly scratching at your shoulder, left uncovered by your tank top. You shivered slightly as his nails played with your nerves. Making your hair stand on end with his ghosting attention.

Letting your mind wander you remembered the questions you had wanted to ask him earlier. He had been trying to persuade some semi important man to join in his latest scheme. You had swallowed your questions so as to not jeopardize the partnership, but now you were alone with the Master and free to inquire. He had spoken so cruelly of free will and democracy to the man, you couldn't help but wonder what his real opinion was. 

He had always seemed to believe that women should get to control their own lives so you doubted he despised free will as much as he had implied. Though with his desire to rule the universe he probably wasn't overly fond of an extreme amount of free will. And democracy seemed to be the sort of idea that he would find interesting to observe. Not that you suspected he would be fond of it in practice unless it secured him power. With his natural charisma and charm it would be no struggle for him to convince a population to support him in his candidacy. So, you doubted that he really believed democracy was pointless! Even if he wasn’t fond of it.

“Master?”

You could only hope that your curiosity did not ruin the mood. It was nice to be spending time together peacefully like this. You would never forgive yourself if you destroyed the peace in this moment.

“Yes, my dear?”

“Do you really dislike democracy?”

“Not entirely,” all of his attention was focused on you. It made you feel wonderful to be capable of holding his attention. It was an honor that not many received, the Master’s indulgent and patient attention. “Democracy as a concept is a good idea, in fact I have to admit I admire it. Unfortunately, it is rarely truly executed as it was conceived."

His hand paused in its movement back and forth along your shoulder.  Moving to brush your hair away from your face again after your shifting caused it to fall, covering your eyes again. The whole time he adjusted your hair he continued his elaboration.

"The ideas of it are something to be admired but in practice it never seems to work as well as it would in theory. It can also be quite the hassle to deal with when trying to gain control over an area and it’s resources for one of my plans.”

“Hmm,” you let out an attentive hum as you continued to look into his eyes. “What about free will? With your skills in regard to hypnosis, it must just be a minor annoyance.”

The small smile he returned to you only made you feel even more content.

"You flatter me, my dear. In many cases you are correct, it is nothing more than a small annoyance to overcome another's will with my own. However, there are some who have wills strong enough to resist my attempts at hypnosis. A rare few can even break out of my control over time as well! Given enough time I could slowly place someone strong-willed under my control. But, my dear, I have found that other methods of, shall we call it persuasion- are much more efficient in such cases."

You lifted your head off of the Master's chest, propping yourself up on one arm.

"Has anyone strong-willed ever willingly submitted to your will? Choosing to let you hypnotize them?"

"No one had done me the honor as of yet," his eyes were filled with a warm affection. "You always have the most thought-provoking questions, my dear. I must admit I had never thought about someone willingly submitting to my hypnosis before."

Looking away you bit your lip. You knew what you wanted but you were nervous to ask him for it.

"I'm a bit curious... Master? Do I have a strong will?"

You danced around the subject. Hopeful that he would catch on to your implications and ensure that you did not have to admit to your desires.

"Worried that I may decide to hypnotize you, my dear?" 

His hand reached to make you look back into his eyes again.

"You have nothing to worry about, my darling. I wouldn't be able to hypnotize you,  your will is too strong to succumb to such a manipulation of your mind."

Your nose scrunched up minutely as he said that, he had misunderstood you. You realized now that you had made such an expression you would need to explain it’s meaning. If you didn’t explain he would ask. He always paid close attention to your every facial expression. It was better to explain yourself before he drew any potential conclusions. Or more accurately formed a hypothesis and drew his own biased conclusion no matter your protests. 

"I’m not worried about you hypnotizing me at all. I actually think that I would like you to hypnotize me Master."

He looked shocked by your words. The hand that had been holding your chin in place moving to rest against your forehead.

"Are you feeling alright, my dear? I simply cannot believe that you would want to give up your free will. Your willing submission is more than enough."

"It’s not me giving up my free will Master. It’s me choosing to trust you completely and submit fully to you."

It took him a few moments to process your words. His hand moving gently down the side of your face. Cradling your face between his hands as if it was a fragile piece of equipment or a precious jewel. Always so full of care and caution in every gesture when it came to you.

"I'll admit I would like to try," even with his admission he still seemed hesitant. "It would be a most precious gift to have you willingly allow me into your mind in such a manner."

He searched your face for any signs of regret. Finding no signs he then searched for any apprehension in your expression. Seeing nothing but calm consent he gave into his desire.

"I will be gentle, my dear. If at any point you are uncomfortable you can fight back and I shall release you from my control. Do you understand?"

"I understand,” you were eager to experience the Master going into your mind. It sounded like it would be pleasantly blissful and slightly intimate.

“Excited enough to forget your manners, my dear? And make sure to tell me what it is that you understand. I would hate for a simple miscommunication to cause you any amount of suffering!”

“Sorry,” you sheepishly replied. “I understand, Master. If I feel uncomfortable I will fight to resist your control, so that you know to release your control over me.”

“Good girl. Now just look into my eyes with an open mind.”

You looked deep into his eyes as they drew you in. You didn't resist the pull you felt, allowing yourself to fall into his grasp. You melted into the Master's hands. Going completely slack, his hands were the only things keeping you from falling face first into his chest.

"Who do you obey?"

"You, my Master."

The Master guided your head to rest against his chest again. Right over his left heart as you had positioned yourself so carefully at the start of this discussion. All of your limbs felt floaty, every inch of you tingling. Your body disconnected from your mind. Outside of your control. You felt surprisingly comfortable. You imagined that it was only due to knowing that it was the Master in control. You had always felt safe by his side.

“How do you feel, my dear?”

“Floaty,” your voice took on a slightly breathless tone. Your tongue felt weird in your own mouth. While you were speaking genuinely, it felt like your voice was not yours. “But content and safe in my Master’s arms.”

The Master took one of your hands into his own. Intertwining your fingers together, giving your hand a firm squeeze. It served to ground you, the floaty feeling retreating. You still felt disconnected from your own body but the tingling was gone. You hadn’t known that you could relax further than you already had.

“There we go, my darling. Completely underneath my control, utterly submissive and obedient to my will.”

His voice was soft. Quiet, but firmly reassuring. You had a loopy smile on your face that you couldn’t stop. He was so gentle with you.

“I have to admit a certain curiosity about you and your motives. Never before would I have imagined someone choosing to stay by my side as you do. I cannot help but question what you truly think of me. What has made you decide to stay with me.”

His hand slid away from yours so that the only physical contact that remained between the two of you was your head against his chest. The floaty feeling only slightly coming back. Subtle enough to not be distracting like before.

"Why do you obey your Master?"

"I love my Master," the answer came with no hesitation.

Abruptly the haze that had filled your mind broke. Reality rushed back into your mind. The sounds of the TARDIS and the Master’s heart beats roared in your ears. The dim lighting seemed to shine brighter than suns in your eyes. Everything overwhelmed you. The strongest sensation of all was the feeling of the Master’s mind yanking itself away. It felt as if you had been physically pushed away from the Master even as you were still laying on his chest just over his heart. Tears filled your eyes at the overwhelming sensation of loss, of emptiness. You refused to let them fall. If it was affecting you this much it must be so much worse for the Master. You must have done something wrong to cause the hypnosis to backfire and snap apart as it had.

You lifted yourself up off of his chest, looking into his wide eyes.

"Did I do something wrong?"

You had barely gotten the last word of your question out before you were pulled down, crashing into his lips. It was the deepest kiss you had even been given by the Master. Normally he gave light pecks, focused on maintaining propriety. This kiss however was full of passion.

He released your lips just as you were running out of breath. Inhaling, you blinked a few times. Looking at him in dazed surprise. Before you could process what had just happened you were pulled back into another kiss just as passionate as the first. He pulled your body so that it was fully on top of his as you did your best not to squirm.

As he started to break the second kiss he seemed compelled to chase your lips for one last quick peck.

"I never dared to think that you might stay with me out of love."

"Silly, of course I love you," you gave a small kiss to his nose and then his lips. Before your embarrassment at your actions caught up to you and you hid your face in his chest with an embarrassed whine. Why had you done that? Now you could never show your face to him again!

He wasted no time in pulling your face away from his chest, "I'm afraid that I'm not going to allow you to hide your pretty, flustered face from me, my dear."

Your face pressed into his hands as you tried to hide your flustered face once again. It of course accomplished nothing. So you closed your eyes to give yourself the illusion of hiding.

"Absolutely adorable."

He spoke softly, as if the words were just for him but needed to be said. Peeking at his expression you could see open adoration for you. Seeing his open adoration you managed to find the courage to open your eyes and face the Master despite your flushed face and bright red cheeks.

"I really do love you more than anything Master,” you softly admitted.

"I fear if you keep telling me that you love me that I will never let you go again, my dear. I would keep you by my side for the rest of eternity."

There was a seriousness to his words that told you he spoke the truth, but you didn't mind. You would never want to leave him anyway.

"I love you, Master."

His eyes softened when you repeated your declaration.

"May I hypnotize you again, my darling? I broke my hold over you quite abruptly before which may have left your mind open for others to get in. I will warn you that my hold on your mind will be more possessive now."

"Yes, you may hypnotize me again Master."

You looked into his eyes and with one statement you were comfortably held in his control, "obey your Master."

His hand brushed through your hair as you basked in the nice feeling of your mind being fully held by the Master.

"Let me know if it gets overwhelming, my dear. I'm doing all that I can to hold back for you."

"Don't need to hold back. M' entirely Master's."

The hold on your mind grew, heavy. But heavy in a nice and reassuring way, like a weighted blanket. It felt like you were being pulled physically closer to the Master. Yet his hand never strayed from your hair. Each stroke through your hair brought you deeper and more pleasantly under his control. You never wanted to leave. You wanted to stay nice, obedient, and loved under his control. Slowly he started to pull away. Your mind chased after him. You didn't want him to leave your mind! 

"Shh, shhh. It's alright my darling, I'm still here."

Your mind started to register the Master's words the moment you registered that you had been whimpering.

"Master?" 

You were dazed and slightly confused. Then as the last tendrils of his mind left yours he sent a surge of pleasure into your mind. Making your body fall with limp for a few moments with the love and comfort projected into your mind. There was a small kiss pressed reverently to your forehead as your senses returned.

"There you are, my dear. Return to me now, nice and gently. There we go."

Slowly your mind felt "normal" again.

"You should get some rest, my dear."

"I'm-" you had been about to protest when your exhaustion caught up with you. "I'm really tired."

"It's to be expected. I was a bit careless and forgot to consider how little experience you have with telepathy. Your mind is tired from trying to chase after mine but after you get some sleep you will be perfectly fine."

A blanket was pulled over you to tuck you in as you shifted a small amount to get into a comfortable sleeping position clinging to the Master.

"Rest assured that I'll be right here when you wake up, my darling. Sleep well."

Those were the last words you heard, softly spoken, as you let sleep claim you.

[zettabita]

RIVALS: Thunder

Rivals Master List

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

a masaki ichijou x fem reader fic

Genre: action, romance Warnings: none! Word count: 2.6k+

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

“Shiba-san, I think I’m going to throw up.” 

You clutch the shoulder of Tatsuya Shiba, First High’s best technician and the one currently servicing your CAD. With a mildly concerned look, he steadies you and walks you to the stage riser. 

Around you, students hustle to and fro, working on computers, tinkering with CADs, and typing hastily on tablets—other technicians for First High. You see, it was the 2095 Nine Schools Magic Competition, and you, a bright-eyed magician hailing from a distant country, was chosen by your First High teachers and upperclassmen to represent the school for Ice Pillar Break. Not much surprise there—even amongst the Blooms students, you were considered one of the best: you learned ridiculously fast, your casting speed rivals that of Miyuki Shiba’s, and, although it wasn’t known to many, your Psion count was very, very high, making for a good starting set of talents for the flashy event. To top it off, you worked hard to keep your place in the prestigious school (one time, you had to explain to your Japanese classmates how and why you, a foreigner, topped the exam for Modern Japanese class). Unfortunately, though, your technical skills weren’t anything to write home about; you could barely calibrate a CAD to save your life. Well, that’s why you had Tatsuya with you.

“You’ll be fine. (L/N)-san. You just need to take your time.” Tatsuya reassures in his usual monotone voice. He pauses, as if thinking what to say, before adding, “Just don’t draw attention to your casting.”

Welp. Aside from the fact that it was your first match of the tournament, you were also horribly unlucky in that your opponent, Suzuki Mutsuba of Third High School, is the current shoo-in to champion Ice Pillar Break for the Newcomer’s Division. Her casting speed and aggressive tactics made her an extremely difficult opponent as she would be able to destroy the ice pillars quickly before you could even cast an offensive spell.

To overcome this, you and Tatsuya had agreed on using your speciality in Ancient Magic which would give you great burst damage and some stealth. It would, however, take a lot of time to cast, and so you had to constantly run a modern counter magic sequence to prevent getting slaughtered in the first couple of seconds while preparing for your Ancient Magic spell. The thought made you want to hurl your breakfast on Tatsuya’s shiny black shoes. 

“Thanks.” You smile weakly at him. “Well, if I lose today, at least I look cute.” Tatsuya, who, as expected, barely reacted, giving you a small smile. Well, it was true. Saegusa-senpai had insisted that the Ice Pillar Break event had also become a mini-fashion show in recent years, so she and some of the other female upperclassmen took a lot of pleasure in dressing you up. You wore a modernized version of your country’s traditional garb (“I absolutely insist! You’ll be a standout,” Saegusa-senpai exclaimed one time after a meeting, imploring you to send for traditional clothes), your face in light makeup, and your hair in a bun. You knew that with your outfit, you’d surely be a standout amongst the sea of competitors in kimono and hakama. 

To prevent yourself from throwing up, you had let go of Tatsuya and preoccupied yourself with fiddling with the stitching on your top, when a disembodied voice booms over the speakers in the holding room. “Mutsuba Suzuki, Third High School, versus (L/N) (F/N), First High School!”

You take a deep breath. You look back to your weeks of training: the tingle of electricity prickling your skin, the feeling of power dancing at the ends of your fingertips, the mental exhaustion from practicing deadly magic for hours on end. You remember the day you first boarded the plane for Japan at the behest of your government, scared that you wouldn’t make it in the suffocatingly competitive atmosphere of First High. You breathe in this moment now: you, who has made it this far and who will make it even further. Suddenly, you don’t feel like throwing up anymore.

“Go on and show them.” Tatsuya hands you your device, slender and silver, and your talisman, a pair of black gloves with a red inscription on the palm. You look into his blue eyes and see absolute certainty. In you, perhaps? There was no time to contemplate, so you take the device and put on the gloves, shooting him an eager grin as the platform begins to rise. “Yes, yes.”

You emerge into the light, your chin held high.

-------

“Oi, Masaki, it’s the foreigner girl!”

“Mm.” Masaki Ichijou, scion of the Ichijou clan and freshman ace of Third High School, looks up from his device to George and then to you at the center of the stadium. You were something of a spectacle at this year’s Nine Magic High Schools Competition, because foreigners were so rare at magic high schools, much less at a contest of Japan’s best up-and-coming magicians.

You emerge from the riser, your stance self-assured. Judging from the large screen flashing yours and Mutsuba-san’s faces, Masaki thought you were pretty, yes, but not in that demure Japanese way. Your wide eyes were intense and serious but a little restless and some strands of your (H/C) hair loose from your bun were fluttering in the wind. You were wearing some sort of unique outfit; probably from your home country, Masaki notes, and a pair of gloves. He eyes the CAD in your hand. General-type. General-type CADs can hold a lot of Activation Sequences, but it’s taxing for the caster. You using one meant you have some skill. 

“Ooh. General-type CAD. Still, she doesn’t look particularly tough.” George pulls out his phone and starts typing furiously. “Do you think I should still have the others take stats?”

Masaki was certain you weren’t a lightweight: after all, your home country sent you to First for a reason, and First sent you to this competition. First High is not a school to be taken lightly. He nodded. “Yes. Just to be sure.”

Still, as good as you may be, Mutsuba-san was probably better, Masaki thought. “But I don’t think she can win against Mutsuba-san,” He adds. “She tied with me in practice once or twice, you know.” 

George nods slightly. “Yes. Her control and cast speed are above average. And her specialty really is suited for this—“

The siren sounds, cutting off George and shushing the crowd. It’s time. After two counts, a screeching noise fills the air, and the match between First High and Third High begins. 

On the far right, Mutsuba-san, dressed in a pink kimono, outstretches a gun-shaped CAD and begins her offense. Masaki knows what it is from his practice matches with her: Phonon Maser, an A-rank spell. A bright beam bursts forth from the barrel of her CAD and vaporizes one of your pillars. Masaki’s eyes dash to the left of the field. You wince a little, your left hand gripping your CAD tighter and your right hand tucked behind your back, but you quickly resume your steady gaze and continue casting. A sequence forms over your pillars and a dull light begins to pulse over your own ice field. Soon, Mutsuba-san’s Phonon Maser only makes dents. 

“Data Fortification.” George makes a yawning motion. “Effective, but boring.” 

“Hey! I use Data Fortification.” Masaki says indignantly. “And her defense is decent.”

Third’s best engineer regards his friend dryly. “Mm. But it’s not your only spell. Miss First here isn’t even attempting an offense.” He gestures to the field. He was right. You were holding your CAD high over the ice field, as if commanding them to stay frozen—and they did for the most part, receiving Mutsuba-san’s onslaught of lasers relatively well. Still, Masaki thought, you weren’t making any moves to destroy Mutsuba-san’s pillars. 

“Yeah. As good as she is at defending herself, it’s useless if she doesn’t attack.” George nods in reply. 

A few more seconds of the standoff between you and your opponent pass. The young Ichijou takes a quick glance around. George looked like he was getting more bored with each passing second, and he wasn’t the only one losing interest. Many other Third students in the stand who waited eagerly for you a couple of seconds ago now whisper impatiently amongst themselves, bored and unimpressed by the seemingly one-sided battle. To Masaki’s right field of view, the First High students in their stand shift uncomfortably in their seats, visibly worried about the outcome of the match. It seemed that even they didn’t know what was going on. 

Masaki fixes his attention back on you who still kept up with your ironclad defense. Why did First High even bother to send someone who won’t attack, Masaki wonders. He tries searching your face, your figure, your magic for any indication of anxiety, uncertainty, or whatever one was supposed to feel whenever they were about to lose a match. With your steady gaze, (E/C) eyes fixed on the field before you, your defense magic constant in its impenetrability, you seemed too calm for someone about to lose, Masaki observes. And then it hit him. 

“It’s not calmness.” He murmurs.

“What?” George gazes at Masaki quizzically. With all their years of friendship, George has pretty much gotten used to his best friend’s mutterings, especially during training—he’s heard I have to get this perfectly or I need to adjust the hydrostatic pressure far too many times in simulations—and even learned to take some of them seriously. He’s written them off as telltale marks of a genius (because he himself does the same things when he’s zoning out in his lab).  

“She’s waiting for something.” It’s not calmness, Masaki thought. It was something more predatory. Staring at your face on the megascreen, he realizes that you, in all your non-aggression, were fighting back a smile. 

Prompted by Masaki’s fixation, George studies your figure with the I-discovered-a-new-Cardinal-Code look on his face, the look he uses when scrutinizing a research article or examining Akane’s new outfit (It’s a well-known fact that they like each other. Masaki long ago conceded to the fact that his live-in best friend and his younger sister Akane are practically dating.) As George looks over you, his eyes widen. “Look at her right hand.” 

“Huh.” Masaki studies your right arm tucked away behind your back, away from everyone’s attention. Your hand, covered by your glove with the red seal on the palm, was making some sort of small, rapid fingering motion, like you were weaving a thread or plucking multiple strings on an instrument. It was so slight and so seemingly random that even the announcers and Mutsuba-san did not even recognize. 

Masaki raises an eyebrow. “That’s Ancient Magic, isn’t it?” 

“Yeah. Her glove is the talisman.” George leans back in his seat and crosses his arms, as if waiting for something to unfold. As he did, he glances up at the sky. He then grips Masaki’s shoulder tightly.

The young Ichijou tries to slap his best friend’s hand off. “Hey, you’re going to ruin my uniform.” 

George didn’t seem to hear him. His gaze, now bewildered, was fixated on the sky. “By Kami-sama...” He whispers. 

Masaki glances up with him. The sky was dark, much darker than it was minutes ago. Clouds seemed to form quickly, almost too quickly, overhead. George‘s grip on Masaki’s shoulder tightened. “Masaki, don’t watch the field, she’s casting a—“

Before he could finish his sentence, you whip out your right hand and snap your finger. A streak of pure white floods everyone’s vision and a deafening clap thunders overhead. The stadium erupts in surprised yelps from the audience. The light soon disappears, revealing you standing there on your podium, gloved right hand outstretched and a wide grin spread over your face. 

Masaki hastily surveys the field, rubbing his eyes from the sudden flash of lightning. Half of Mutsuba-san’s pillars had exploded, boiling hot water sizzling on the grass around the ice field. The other half were melted to varying degrees. The ground underneath what used to be the center pillar, where the light struck, was scorched. 

“Well, well.” He clicks his tongue in amazement. “Thunder Cloud.” 

George’s red eyes widened. “That’s…that’s the A-class Ancient Magic that copies the natural lightning generation process...” 

“Yes.” Masaki let out a sigh. He’s seen the spell before when his father worked with foreign magicians from the tropical southern regions of the Asian Union, but he’s never seen them do the little motions you did. “Father used to know a few who could cast it. They literally create cumulonimbus clouds and separate the electrons in such a way to make the lightning strike an exact point. It takes a lot of Psions but it’s highly lethal. To cast it while casting a modern spell...”

George started typing on his phone furiously. “That’s next-level. Gotta have the team take note of this.” Masaki could only nod in reply. “Now that’s why First sent her.”

Mutsuba-san looked shocked that she only had half her pillars left within a fraction of a second and scrambled to cast a defensive spell, to no avail. You had already snapped your finger again, causing a large Sequence to form in the sky, and lightning strikes the pillars, this time stronger, brighter, and hotter than the last. 

The pair manage to just avert their eyes in time. There were deafeaning cheers on the right side of the stadium—probably First audience—and then they were drowned out by a crack of thunder like a whip. When the light cleared, there was nothing left of Mutsuba-san’s pillars, just the scorched ground upon which they once stood and steam rising from her side of the field. All ice and water had been vaporized.

The siren screeched loudly. “The match goes to (L/N) (F/N) of First High School!” 

The stadium erupts in cheers, except for the pair’s stand, which consisted of Third students. Third High sat in stunned silence. No one had expected that you would defeat Mutsuba Suzuki, a member of the Ten Master Clans and a favorite to win the Newcomers’ Division for Ice Pillar Break in a complete wipeout. And in such a rapid and unexpected way, too.

George clicks his tongue in amazement. “Now, that’s one way to get everyone’s attention.”

“And the Clans’ attention, too.” Masaki says in a soft voice.

George glances at him and raises an eyebrow, a playful smile on his face. “Could it be that the great and super-single Ichijou Masaki is expressing his interest?”

Masaki glares at him incredulously and rolls his eyes. “Yes, George, I am extremely interested in this girl whom I’ve never met and whose background I have no idea about. What I’m saying is that defeating a member of the Master Clans is—“

The star engineer lets out a small chuckle. “Yes, yes, I know what you mean. Still…you never know, right?” 

Masaki exhales loudly through his nose. “I know a lot of things, George.” He takes a quick glance back at the megascreen, which shows you practically beaming as you wave at the First High crowd, as if you didn’t just cast very taxing and very deadly magic seconds ago. ‘(L/N) (F/N)’, it says on the screen. He thinks of you, you in the moment, smiling with the thunder. He tries to speak your name in his head, pronouncing the individual syllables the way he’s heard people speak names of your descent, seeing how each sound would fit in his mouth. At the back of his mind, he thinks it fits well, but he keeps this information to himself.

George didn’t seem to notice his best friend’s thoughts wandering. “Uh-huh. Well, I should go check on Mutsuba-san’s hardware. Catch you later.” He moves towards the exit with the leaving crowd but pauses at a notification from his phone. He scans it, eyes widening for what seemed like the hundredth time in the past couple of minutes. 

”What is it?” Masaki asks, just barely having snapped out of his reverie of you.

George turns to him, a wicked grin on his face. “Just got word from the team. She’s going to sub for Monolith Code.”

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

Next: Spark I

[7wanderingpaws]

Simply, yours (6)

Pairing:  Baekhyun x reader

Genre: family AU, hapkido teacher AU, PhD AU

Word count: 2.7K

Warnings: none

A/N: Haha I laughed at the reactions for the last part! Yes, it is all happening huu! I cant wait to write even more! And thank you for giving me feedback, it honeslty makes me feel happy and motivated! ❤

tags: @milky-baek​ 💖 (Im so sorry if there were more people who asked, my list got messed up? Im so sorry again, if you want to be tagged pretty please comment on this post or write anon/dm, Im fine with all! Sorry again!! :((( )

MASTERLIST

1 . 2 . 3 . 4 . 5 . 6

-

You left the doctors in deep silence.

None of you were capable to speak much, but there definitely was a lot to talk about, to discuss and probably re-think. Your mind was in an internal turmoil, and it seemed to be a vicious circle. What you just learned was something you would have never ever imagined before. That type of news was… news-worthy. Like television news worthy. From the excitement of the doctor, it easily could become reality.

You vividly imagined yourself talking to the reporter, the microphone of the broadcast station in your face as you tried to explain just how crazy your situation was. A poor countryside family (that didn't even tie the knot yet) expecting three…

Ridding your head of various scenarios, you entered the bus. Thankfully, there weren't many people as you entered the stuffy vehicle. Baekhyun quickly grabbed a single seat for you, wanting to stand right next to your side. Funnily, the one who constantly spoke and had an argument ready was now silent, deep in thought just like you. Glancing up at your boyfriend, he was holding the loop above his head, his gaze set on the road outside, but eyes unfocused. Who knew what was going on in his mind. Was it the same mess just like in yours?

Gnawing at your bottom lip and bunching up your skirt in your hands, you waited for him to look at you, to reciprocate the look. And after several seconds, he snapped out of his reverie and looked down at you, seeing your eyes bulging in scare. He smiled at you softly and widened his eyes at you as he pressed his lips tightly together, giving you a cute face.

You managed to lift one corner of your lips up and you dropped your gaze, reaching for his free hand in his pocket to hold on to, and he immediately complied. Squeezing yours tightly, you could sense he was worried, too. You rested your connected hands on your small tummy and you let out a little scoff in disbelief as you also looked out the window. Belly was small, but soon would be huge, bearing three lives.

Just how long could you prolong your silence at your workplace?

You only had few weeks left.

-

Once the doors of your apartment closed behind you two, you wrapped your arms around Baekhyun's neck, pulling him close to you, burying your head in the crook between his neck and shoulder. He didn't hesitate to hug you back, squeezing your aching body as gently yet as persistently as he only could to show you he was there for you.

“Baekhyun,” you whispered, the sound muffled, your breath hot on his skin. “Just what will we do?”

This time he also hid his face in your shoulder, while his other hand came up to rest on the back of your head. “We can do this. This is…” he hesitated before gently pulling back to gaze into your teary eyes, “a blessing. For me. For us.”

Momentarily, you closed your eyes and let his honest words sink in. He was right, of course. If everything would go well, you were heading into a family filled with happiness and lots of children's laughter. “It is, darling. But money-wise-”

“Don't even start,” he retorted gently and cupped your cheek. “That is not something we should focus on right now.”

You frowned. “How should I not focus on it when we barely live with what we have now? And we are two adults, Baekhyun. We need a lot of things for one child, can you imagine the amount of money that goes into three?”

“First, we need to sign up for the governmental support, but I am more than sure that is automatically given once you give birth,” he reasoned rationally, not letting your frown break his stance. “Second, you need to chill, okay? Leave it up to me, I know what I am doing.”

“You need to enlighten me, because I won't be able to chill otherwise.”

“You know I am soon done with my PhD. The position of the professor is literally months away,” he replied hurriedly, “we will manage, honey. I will give my everything to you, to them.”

“But I want to give as well,” you protested, stubborn. “I also want to provide for us, Baekhyun.”

“Well, you are doing just that, aren't you?” he asked, confused at your scared face. “C'mon, you are acting like you are going to get kicked out for being pregnant.”

That shut you up very quickly. Shit. He had no idea you would get sacked the moment your boss as much as sniffed pregnancy.

“You can work until you can, until your body is able to… as much as I hate to say it. I don't want to lock you down just because of your state, sweetie, hm?”

His words touched your heart, but he would soon find out he didn't have to do it because you would do it for him by losing your job. You wanted to laugh. 

“And then you will take the maternity leave. If you can work from home, even better, right?” Baekhyun kept going on, his features brightening.

You nodded, fazed. This was something you probably should resolve by yourself and very quickly. The last thing your wanted was for Baekhyun to provide for five people all by himself.

After few seconds of silence, he let you go. “Go change into something comfy, hm? I will prepare food, you need to eat.”

Standing still, you watched him move around your tiny kitchen, opening the cabinets, preparing plates, heating up food - when he sensed your unmoving body, he turned, and looked at you, perplexed. He called your name softly before coming back to you. “What's the matter?”

Staring at him, you were speechless. So you shook your head.

He chuckled quietly before cradling your neck and bringing your head close so he could give you a lasting kiss on your forehead. “My pregnant little lady.”

You scoffed. “Not little for too long.”

He laughed and his eyes shone when he looked at you, squeezing your cheeks. “Can you imagine? This young cheeky lady, and three babies inside.”

“Baekhyun,” you murmured, rolling your eyes. Your murmur came out funnily as he was still squeezing your cheeks, letting out a little yelp.

“But you are just so cute? How is that possible? Shit, you will be even cuter when the babies will grow!”

You sighed, realising he was in one of those fever moments when he just had to vent out his racing thoughts, be it whatever. “I will be an elephant soon.”

“A cute elephant. An elephant lady to her Dumbo boy?” he quirked his eyebrows and moved his ears back and forth, making you laugh out loud.

“You're unbelievable,” you giggled.

“There it is,” he murmured, affectionate gaze grazing your smiling features.

“Hmm?”

Slowly, he let his thumb trace your stretched out mouth and the soft wrinkles around your eyes. “The smile. The genuine smile. You look gorgeous with it, sweetheart. Whatever it is that is on your mind, vent it all out to me, okay?” he lowered himself a bit so he was on the same eve-level with you. “By no means keep it to yourself. We are in this together.”

You stayed silent for a moment, before saying: “I love you so much.”

He sighed, almost in relief, before bringing you into another hug. “And I love you, much much more.”

When the food was prepared and both you and Baekhyun were changed into comfy clothes, he sat you down onto his lap, both of you munching on the soup.

“This reminds me that one time we drove a truck and sat in the backside, trying not to fall out on the dirt road,” said Baekhyun before slurping on his soup.

You hummed, swallowing your portion. “You mean when you asked me to sit on your lap? And hold onto your sweaty chest?”

He gave you a cheeky grin. “Exactly that one. Just wanted to sweep that pretty young girl off of her feet, straight into my arms,” he sing-sang.

You giggled, remembering that time very well.

It happened before his enlistment. 

The day was scorching hot, creating droplets of sweat on your forehead within minutes of being exposed to the strong sunshine. Your uniform was plastered to your body, but thankfully no one could tell just how hot you were. Probably a big part of it could have been because of that gorgeous boy who was, of course, very well known in your village and the surrounding areas. The hapkido master and charmer who is able to make heads turn within a heartbeat, all for him.

That day he was working around your school and he happened to be finishing his work in the late afternoon just when you were leaving your classroom and heading outside, prepared for the long walk.

You knew Baekhyun. Your family knew Baekhyun. He was a trust-worthy young man and he also lived in the house next to yours. You might have shared few chickens as they were wandering around the shared space. So when he asked if you needed a ride home, you replied with a bright smile, your heart jumping like crazy, your mind racing with possibilities of what he might do. Would he give you a smile? Of course, he would. He was Baekhyun. And he reserved the sweetest of smiles only for you. They were breathtaking and made you feel like you were the only person on this planet. You wanted to share him never.

His colleague driving, you and him climbed on the back to enjoy the breeze throughout the drive but  there were no seats and your skirt was surely short. Baekhyun had had long taken of his sweaty shirt, his toned body glistening under the sunrays. He sat down on the edge with his knees politely connected before he patted the top of his thighs. “Come, sit here,” he said as the car moved and your skirt almost blew upwards before you and him both reached for the hem of it to keep it down.

You blushed a deep red and he gave you a lopsided grin before he gently placed his hands on your hips and helped you lower on his lap, his arm protectively around your back, his hand resting on your hip. His touch was burning through the material, but his breath which was so close to yours was scorching. The pull was strong, yet you didn't dare to look at him right away, feeling his searching gaze on you.

“How is high school?” he started, his voice light. To make sure you wouldn't fall, he placed his other arm over your thighs and looked at you curiously.

Your hands were folded in your lap, and you felt how he purposefully moved the hand closer so your hands would brush and rest against each other. You itched your hand just a tiny bit closer. “It's okay. Too bad the previous seniors are already gone,” you replied, boldly looking him in the eyes, referring to him. “Would have been more interesting to be at school.”

He chuckled boyishly, sending electric waves down your body. “Honest girl, I see.” He looked ahead for a bit before looking back at you again. “That's what I like. It's a shame, indeed. Would have liked to meet you on the corridors of the school.”

Would have loved to kiss you in the dark corner of the corridors, you thought, the idea so sweet you felt the pull in your insides. Ah, not now, don't think about it now! He is right here!

“When are you enlisting?”

“In a couple of months,” he replied. You expected him to grow dull at the idea, but he was still cheerful.

You smiled. “Seems like you are looking forward to it?”

“I love sports and I want to become a real man,” he admitted, laughing. There was a bigger bump on the road, making both of you jump up, his arm tightening around you in reflex which caused him to pull you even closer. Your faces were so, so close.

“I will miss you, though,” you mumbled sheepishly, not caring about almost falling off the car.

“I will come back, hm? It doesn't last forever,” he replied, still gentle in voice. Noticing your sour expression, he said: “ Now there,  I don't want to see that face,” he spoke gently, his face even closer now as you ever so slightly lifted your downcast gaze to meet his dark orbs. “You look beautiful when you smile.” And I think I want to kiss you.

But you might not be ready yet.

-

Sighing in content, you snuggled closer to Baekhyun as you fell asleep right after food. He realised quickly that the happenings of the day must have caught up with you, because by the end of lunch your head was dropping on his shoulder.

Tucking you in the bed, he pulled out his phone while he had you curled up by his chest, your head just under his chin, while his arm was your pillow. In that hand, he was holding his phone and scrolling through some information from the government that could give you help but as much as he scrolled he only got positive news. Although you wouldn't be receiving much, you sure would be getting some cash as a thank you, since the country was doing terribly in terms of birth rate.

Baekhyun was silent, except some random hums that would softly leave his throat, but nothing that would disturb you in your peaceful slumber. His free hand was caressing your back soothingly, slowly he would drag his palm up between your shoulder blades where he would make a circle and than go all the way to the small of your back, reaching the hem of your shirt, where he added more pressure, knowing your lower back was giving you a hard time already.

He was very excited about the news. Of course, it was only natural they caught him off-guard but he just wanted many kids with you and make a happy family like he always imagined. The fact that fate provided this all at once was a sign for him and he was not going to be the one ruining it. And he would make sure he was there for you during each step.

Even if your mind was troubled, you were sleeping rather contently in the arms of your man and his caressings were what you woke up to. Ever so slightly, you lifted your head to have a look at his focused stare illuminated by the screen of his smartphone. He was studying something, and even though he felt you stirring, his caressing had yet to cease.

You reached up with your puckered lips and gave his chin a gentle kiss, signalling him you were up.

He hummed, not looking down at you. “Sleeping beauty is up.”

“Sorry I fell asleep like that,” you whispered, not wanting to disturb the bubble between you two.

“Why are you apologising?” he whisper-asked back, now locking his phone and letting it fall from his hand to look at your pale face. “You must be so tired, honey. I like us being like this.”

You raised your eyebrows in question at his sudden confession.

He smiled gently and gave your nose a sweet kiss. “Lying in bed, you sleeping and probably the babies too, and I'm here looking over you guys.”

His words touched your heart. “Yes. I feel the safest when I am with you.” You caressed his cheek affectionately and he gave you a smile before grabbing his phone to go back to researching.

“Go, sleep some more, sweetie,” he said. “We have work tomorrow, so let's make sure you rest plenty.”

You bit your lip, hiding your face in his chest right away, the thought of entering work tomorrow quite scary.

Mulling whether you should tell Sukyeong about your situation and ask for her advice, you found yourself drifting back into another slumber.

Telling her would maybe ease your worrying heart.

But it wouldn't save your job for sure.

And that was the problem.