#the law is not a buffet table

[tomorrowusa]

« So, here’s a shocker: It turns out that, if you elect a felon as president of the United States, he will continue to break laws once he’s in office.

Who knew? »

— Dana Milbank at the Washington Post (archived).

Further down in the article, Mr. Milbank lists some of the laws Trump has likely broken.

The Protecting Americans from Foreign Adversary Controlled Applications Act of 2024. The Administrative Leave Act of 2016. The Federal Information Security Modernization Act of 2014. The Affordable Care Act of 2010. The Foreign Affairs Reform and Restructuring Act of 1998. The Religious Freedom Restoration Act of 1993. The Computer Fraud and Abuse Act of 1986. The Inspector General Act of 1978. The Privacy Act of 1974. The Impoundment Control Act of 1974. The Rehabilitation Act of 1973. The Federal Advisory Committee Act of 1972. The Immigration and Nationality Act of 1952. The Administrative Procedure Act of 1946. The Public Health Service Act 1944. The Antideficiency Act of 1870. That’s a century and a half of statutes shredded in just over two weeks.

You don't put lawbreakers in office to solve problems. Once a crook, always a crook.

You either have the rule of law or you have lawlessness.

[aloof-cold-hands]

Womanly Man (short story- William and Cornelius)

Note- this short story was originally crafted for a college course, which had a very strict page limit. Therefore, many sections were condensed.

Cornelius first met William at the third quarterly meeting of the law firm, in which Cornelius was wedged in an olive green chair with his waist dipped over each arm. His collared shirt stuck to his damp skin, and when he breathed his nose whistled quietly. Cornelius’s forehead was glossy and his eyes were strained into a squint behind thick glasses as he pretended to read over one of his attorney’s cases. Coworkers discussed finances, papers flipped, and Cornelius rubbed the side of his face.

A thin man in a cream colored suit set his file down across from Cornelius. When the man sat in his chair, he crossed one leg over the other, then tucked a piece of silk hair behind his ear. Each arm of his chair was wide on either side of his curved waist, which his suit hugged snuggly. He leaned forward and placed his elbow on the table, then placed his palm on his cheek. He peeled open the file he had set down, skimming it.

 His cheekbones were pronounced, almost skeletal, and his sleek nose came to a pointed tip. His eyes were heavy, much like Monroe’s, but this man was missing her birthmark and red lipstick. He was young.  He looked up at Cornelius, and Cornelius looked at him. To Cornelius, the man was womanly.

It was the annual office Christmas party when Cornelius met William a second time. Paper reindeer were strewn across the ceiling and tinsel hung off the reception desk. The company’s complimentary “holly jolly” pencil holders were lingering beside every type writer. “Lonely This Christmas” lazily whirred from a record that the manager, Larry, had set up. 

Cornelius stood just beside the buffet table holding a paper cup that was stained pink from wine. On his head sat a headband with felt antlers. He was the only legal assistant that had attended, all of the mingling parties around him were attorneys. 

He breathed deep and slow through his nose, and he watched the red wine in his cup swivel.

For the fourth time that night, Cornelius gripped the cold neck of the bottle and tipped the lip over his cup. The wine poured in glugs till the cup became weighted again. After he set the bottle down, he wiped his hands on the side of his pants.

Slim fingers slid across his back, and Cornelius stepped to the side.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Cornelius said.

“Pardon me.” 

The blonde man from the quarterly meeting gave Cornelius a close mouthed smile. The man poured himself a cup of water from the dispenser on the table, and Cornelius removed his felt antlers.

“I don’t believe we’ve met properly,” The man said.

“No, uhm…,” Cornelius replied.

“May I ask for your name?”

“Cornelius.”

“Hello, Cornelius.”

Cornelius took a sip of his wine, and the man took a sip of water. 

“Yours?” 

“Call me William.”

William offered Cornelius his hand, and Cornelius accepted. His palm was damp, warm, and calloused. William’s hand was cold.

“You’re an intern, is that right?” Cornelius asked.

“I handle criminal cases,” William replied. Cornelius flushed. “And you?”

“Oh, uhm, I’m a legal assistant.” 

“Mm, you work divorces for Tom?” “Usually, yes.”

“I see,” William said, then glanced down at Cornelius’s left hand. Cornelius put it in his pocket. He slid his wedding ring off with the pad of his thumb.

The record played, the yellow lights buzzed, and Cornelius felt his shirt sticking to his back. He parted his lips to say something, but so did William.

“How long have you been married?” William asked.

“Oh. Too long,” Cornelius said, then chuckled. William didn’t laugh. “Twenty eight years now.”

“That's lovely,” William said.

“Oh, thank you,” Cornelius replied.

“May I take you for drinks?” William asked.

“Now?”

“Would you like that?”

“I’m not much of a drinker, really.”

William said nothing, he only smiled. Cornelius’s thick glasses slowly slid down the bridge of his nose from sweat.

“I have to be home before twelve,” Cornelius said.

“Would you prefer that I drive?” William asked.

“Well- which bar?” 

“Do you have a favorite?”

William and Cornelius slipped out of the building together into the chill of winter. William’s work shoes clicked like heels on glossy winter pavement, and Cornelius studied his legs. The car was a flat ford pinto with white rimmed wheels and a mustard yellow finish. William opened the door for Cornelius.

William turned the heaters in the car on as he drove, and Cornelius talked about war.

“Drafts don’t happen as much as kids think. My boy James is old enough but they don’t want him in Vietnam, haha.”

“Have you been in war, my friend?” William asked.

“No, no but my father was,” Cornelius replied.

“Hmm. Do you fear being drafted?” William asked.

“No, no we’re too old to be drafted,” Cornelius said. 

William did not respond. Cornelius looked at him.

“Could you be?” he asked, watching William’s face.

“I don’t believe I will be,” William responded.

Cornelius’s brows furrowed. He thought about that.

When the men arrived at the bar, William led the older man to the very back where they could hide in a booth together. The floor was checkered, the walls were pastel yellow with orange and brown stripes, and the jukebox on the other side of the bar played “Perhaps, Perhaps, Perhaps” by Doris Day.

 Cornelius had seven rounds of bourbon, and three of vodka. William had one lemonade, which he swirled with a straw while he watched Cornelius’s face get red and his mouth get lazy.

“I like bourbon a lot, but I can only afford beer in large amounts. My father liked beer though,” Cornelius said, slurring. “You’re not gonna drink?”

“Mm. I find that it gives me passion but takes away my performance,” William replied, to which Cornelius chuckled. 

“Oh yea? Have you disappointed a date before?”

William smiled, and took a sip of his drink.

“Do you take girls out often, not being married? I bet you do, looking so young. And blonde, you look like Maralyn Monroe actually.”

“I see,” William said, reaching out for his cigarette back.

“Do you take out girls a lot?”

“I find women to be incredibly beautiful.”

“Yea, I’m sure with the type of women you must get. I never had that, not even when I was your age.”

“No?”

“Look at me,” Cornelius said.

“I am,” William replied.

William was stroking his fingers up and down his left collar bone, his shirt was three buttons open revealing his smooth skin and much-exposed neck. It was long and pale, and Cornelius could picture a double string of pearls strewn across it.

“You’re like a woman,” Cornelius said aloud. William grinned.

“Thank you,” William said.

“You look like a woman.”

“Thank you.”

Cornelius stared at William and breathed heavily through his nose. William stared at Cornelius and traced his collarbone.

William paid the bill and steadied Cornelius on the way to the car. Snow specks stuck to the windows as William drove the drunk man home. Cornelius’s gut was extended and his face was heated. He breathed slowly, and he needed several reminders to give directions. 

William’s ford pinto rolled up to the curb, coming to a stop at a two story house with lightless windows. Cornelius looked up at the master bedroom. It was then that he felt a hand on his knee.

“What a wonderful evening, Cornelius,” William said. “Will I have the privilege of taking you out again?”

The thumb against his knee began to rub back and forth, and for a long time Cornelius did nothing. Then, sobered by his own excitement, he pulled his leg away.

“No, no I’ve uhm, spent enough of your money. You don’t have to do that.

“You’re so thoughtful,” William said, smiling. “Goodnight, Cornelius.”

“Goodnight, William.”

After staring at William for a long time, Cornelius opened the car door and lifted his body into the cold.

Cornelius kicked off his shoes at the front door and began to unbutton his shirt as he walked up the stairs. He removed his belt at the opening of the master bedroom, which jingled as it dropped to the carpet. When he shifted into bed, the king sized mattress dipped and creaked under his weight. He neglected to brush his dry, liquor coated mouth, or shower off the sweat from the night. Linda was turned away from him with curlers in her hair.

“Where were you?” she asked.

Cornelius said nothing. He reached out and placed his hand on her shoulder, then began to rub his palm up and down her skin. Linda rolled his hand off and pulled the sheets tighter around her body. Cornelius stared at the back of her head, studying the coils of blonde hair wrapped in mint green plastic curlers. He wondered, to himself, if William ever curled his hair. He then turned away from her.

Husband and wife laid quietly with one another in the dark bedroom, and Cornelius wished he had slept on the couch. 

A week later, William took Cornelius for another round of drinks. Cornelius collected bottles and talked, and William listened. A shoe touched an ankle or a hand would brush against an arm. They discussed Elvis, The Beatles, and Charlie Chaplin, who William didn’t know.

“Really? You don't know him?” Cornelius asked.

William just smiled.

“He’s been in talkies, some of the first actually.”

“A talkie?” William asked.

Cornelius thought about that for a while, staring at William’s smooth face.

“Come home with me,” William said.

To which Cornelius replied while hot faced;

“Okay.”

 William’s car rolled into a flat driveway. One beam of light became two as the headlights neared the garage door, then shut off. The home was single story and older, like the kind that were built when Cornelius was newly married. The exterior was pastel yellow and the steep roof was mahogany brown. The lights on either side of the front door were lit.

Cornelius watched William open the door without unlocking it. William then began the process of lighting lamps and closing curtains while Cornelius removed his coat. The home was quiet and smelled heavily of smoke.

The couch in front of the TV was custard yellow with several textured blankets sprawled across the top. Crocheted, wool, and faux fur. There were throw pillows, a bean bag, a shag rug, and a coffee table with a completely full ashtray in the center. 

The kitchen still carried the trends of the 50s. Mint green cabinets and counters, Vinyl flooring, and a round breakfast table.

From the hallway emerged a black cat. She bobbed over to the door to greet them with her tail up in the air. She neglected William and pressed her head into Cornelius’s calf, then dragged her body against his leg. She meowed frequently, looking up at Cornelius while circling his shoes.

“Hello, Cynthia,” William said as he removed Cornelius’s coat for him. He placed a hand on his shoulder. “Would you like to wait in my room while I feed her?”

“Oh, uhm…” Cornelius said. The beat in his chest became heavier.

“I’ll only be a moment.”

“Okay.”

Cornelius slid his hands into his pockets and stepped out from Cynthia, who followed him down the hallway until she heard the peel of a cat food can in the kitchen. There were no portraits on the walls, nor were there paintings. After studying the bathroom and the guest room, Cornelius opened the last door down the hallway and tugged at the pull chain on the floor lamp beside him.

The room was soft blues and cream. William owned a canopy with sheer curtains that hung over the bed. His bedsheets were glossy, probably silk. He had two yellow dressers with colognes, a record player, and a jewelry box sitting on top. And most noticeably, William owned a spacious vanity mirror. To Cornelius, this room belonged to a woman.

“Would you like to take your shoes off, dear?” William asked, and a hand slid onto Cornelius’s shoulder.

Cornelius said nothing, and William waited. He stepped around to look at Cornelius’s face. His eyes were peaceful and half lidded, and his collarbones were more exposed to Cornelius than he had ever noticed before. William’s thin fingers plucked Cornelius’s glasses from his face and closed them.

“I’m not a queer, William.” Cornelius said.

“I didn’t think you were, dear,” William replied.

For a very long time Cornelius said nothing, and William said nothing. Then, Cornelius kissed William.

William’s body was sleek, and thin, and young. His skin was milky and smooth against moist, nervous, veiny hands. His chest hair was frail and sparse, and his waist slim. His delicate fingers slid against sun spots and coarse stomach hair, then a hairy breast. William’s ribs cupped the older man's rotund stomach, and when Cornelius couldn't last the way William could, William did not laugh. The curtains were closed, it was dark, and Cornelius was handsome.

“I’m sorry,” Cornelius said. A drop of sweat left his forehead.

William kissed his cheek, and then the corner of his mouth.

“My darling,” he replied.

 Cornelius was guided to lay down, and he obeyed. He placed his head on William’s chest and curled his body against him. William cradled his wide, damp body. Both men breathed together and thought together, naked on top of silk sheets. William whispered kindly to him, and Cornelius began to weep. William stroked his head and pulled him close.

The next morning, William helped Cornelius dress, made him breakfast, then smoked with him. Cornelius didn’t say much to William. 

After breakfast, William drove Cornelius home. When the ford pinto came to a stop, Cornelius did not leave the car. He watched the window on the second floor to the master bedroom, then sighed through his nose. Linda would be dressing herself for church at this time, and she would want him to attend. Cornelius knew this.

“My dear, may I walk you to the door?” William asked.

“Oh, no William. Uhm, thank you, no.” 

William placed a hand on Cornelius’s knee and rubbed his thumb back and forth.

“I understand. The evening was a delight, Cornelius. Will I have the privilege of seeing you again?” William asked.

“Uhm, I don’t know.” 

William nodded, then gave Cornelius’s knee a squeeze. William leaned in close and Cornelius worried that William wanted to kiss him. Instead William reached to open the glovebox and withdrew a white sliver from it. It was then offered to Cornelius. The business card read; Bill Clement - Criminal lawyer. In the middle of the card was a phone number. 

“Thank you,” Cornelius said.

“Goodbye, dear.

Cornelius watched William’s car drive away.

He pressed the front door open, which tended to get stuck in the frame, and stepped inside. Dishes clanked in the kitchen and the news man was giving the weather on the television in the living room. There were footsteps upstairs in Cornelius’s daughter's room. 

Cornelius rubbed his face in his hands. The white light coming into the home was glaring, the noise was sharp, and the pressure of a headache swelled against his skull. He wandered deeper, rounding the corner to the kitchen where Linda stood in front of the sink in a floral sunday dress. Her blonde hair with streaks of gray was done up in a beehive.

“Linda,” Cornelius said.

Linda turned her head to look at him, and Cornelius felt her eyes scan his body. She scowled, then put her plate down to fully face Cornelius. She crossed her arms, and stared at him. Cornelius stared at the kitchen tile.

“Where were you?” She asked.

“I’m sorry, Linda.”

“Where were you.”

“I got drunk, I was going to call.” “You didn’t.”

“I know.”

Cornelius swallowed thickly, and Linda waited.

“I went drinking with uhm, Bill from the firm. I slept at his place.”

“Cornelius,” Linda said, leaning back against the counter. “When I asked you not to drink on a church night, you said that you wouldn't.”

“I know-”

“You promised.”

The television discussed the upcoming election, their daughter’s footsteps came down the stairs, and the neighbors dog barked in the yard. 

“This is the one thing I get, we go to church as a family, Cornelius. We are a family that goes to church every single Sunday. You cannot do this again.”

“Okay.”

“Get ready and show up late,” Linda said.

“Alright.”

“Did you lose your glasses?”

Cornelius reached up to feel the bridge of his nose where his glasses were not perched. He pictured them waiting for him on William’s nightstand.

“Oh, I guess,” he said as Linda walked past him to the front door. He suddenly became aware that he smelt of liquor and tangy sweat.

Both his wife and his daughter stepped onto the front porch, then closed the front door behind them. Linda had to tug the door to get it into the frame properly. 

Cornelius swayed in the kitchen for a minute, then sat down on the couch and watched the news.

That very night, while Cornelius sat in the kitchen alone, William was intertwined with Gene, a good friend, on his silk sheets. They were both incredibly beautiful, and both incredibly skilled with their mouths. Just as they had begun to kiss, the phone in the kitchen rang. William tilted his head to the side for Gene to trail warm pecks down his neck to his collarbone. But after the third ring, the well-built man stopped.

“Aye,” Gene said. 

“Hmm?” William replied.

“Phones ringing.”

“If it’s urgent, they will call again my dear.”

 Moments later, William was wrapped in a sheer robe walking to the kitchen. The tile was cold under his bare feet, and he nearly tripped over Cynthia as she curled around his ankle mid step. He plucked the phone from the wall and pressed it to his ear.

“Hello?” He said, leaning against the counter. He toyed with the custard colored coil from the phone.

“William?” Cornelius asked across the line. He was drunk.

“Cornelius, hello dear.”

“William, hello. How are you? I’m sorry, uhm, did I wake you up?” he asked.

“Not at all. Are you well?” William asked.

“Oh, I’m fine. I just wanted to call.”

“I see.”

Cornelius went silent, and so did William. William could hear him breathing.

“I need to-... when can I see you again?”

William smiled.

“Aww, my darling. Are you unwell?”

Cornelius said nothing.

“May I take you for drinks tomorrow?” William asked.

“Yes, please.” Cornelius said. “Thank you.”

“No need to-”

“Thank you. I love you.”

William’s smile dropped into a neutral line and he stopped toying at the phone coil. 

“I’m sorry. I don't mean- I’m not that way. You know that, I’m not like that.”

“I know, dear.”

“Okay.”

“Goodnight, my darling,” William said.

“Goodnight,” Cornelius replied. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ If you're interested in more writing, consider looking into my patreon!

[letmegrabyourcuteass]

"Whacha got in your...lil backpack there buddy?" Chim says, chewing on his gum. He gives Buck a questionable look. Hen turns and covers her mouth, a smile breaking across her face.

Buck blinks, turning away from the buffet table. They're at Athena's and Bobby's housewarming party, sans Eddie, who is dealing with his house and putting some last-minute touches before putting that up for sale in El Paso. Buck is definitely glad he's coming back with Chris.

His cheeks are puffed out, having stuffed his face full of mini quiches. He blinks wildly. "Hmm?" he chews, trying to swallow so he can answer.

Hen makes a face and hands him a drink. "Just take it." The two watch Buck swallow the drink and wipe his mouth.

"Sorry, what was that?"

"Buck, why do you have a dog in a sling bag. Did you...adopt?"

"Oh! This is Roxi! She's mine...well, Eddie's neighbor's dog," he grins, pinching a piece of the quiche he was eating and feeding her a piece. The dog yips, shaking as she sticks her head out of the sling bag. She licks Buck's fingers, the man grinning down at the little white rat. "My neighbor apparently got sick and had to be hospitalized. Her grandkid asked if I could look after her for them, since her other family members had small kids and their schedules were too busy to watch her. That and their children made Roxi here nervous."

"So you gladly took them up on their offer...?" Chim says.

Buck shrugs. "More like they thrusted her into my arms when they found out I lived alone, and I was the one she had been talking about when I gave her some of my loaves. I was then standing there, confused with a shaking little dog in my hand."

"Man, it's the size of a rat--AHH!" Chim yelps after he reaches to pet Roxi, only to get bitten. The Chihuahua growls, teeth showing as it locks eyes on the man.

Buck frowns as he turns slightly, hands covering the little dog's face. "Don't be mean to her, she didn't do anything to you," Buck says, judging his brother-in-law. "It's okay, baby. The mean man isn't scary." Buck breaks off a piece of sausage from another appetizer plate and feeds it to Roxi.

"It's a dog."

Hen watches as the two squabble. She snorts as she takes her phone out and snaps a photo of Buck standing there with a sling bag on, carrying a small white chihuahua. She sends the photo to Eddie.

The man replies instantly.

Eddie: ??? Is that my neighbor's dog??

Hen: Apparently, he's dogsitting for her. I think Buck is attached, but he doesn't want to admit it.

Eddie: He 100% is. I can tell he bought that sling bag just to carry her around in. 🙄

Hen: Not gonna lie, he looks so cute carrying around a tiny dog 😭

[luffydotcom]

dates

synopsis: types of dates one piece characters would take you on feat: luffy, zoro, nami, usopp, sanji, ace, law warnings: none! notes: i actually struggled with ideas for some of these because i'm single asf 💔

luffy

dates with luffy are unexpected and unpredictable - just like him!

LUFFY is easily bored of routine and enjoys changing things up, and i feel like this would apply if he dated. no date with luffy is ever the same as the last: one date you're outrunning marines, another you both stop by an all-you-can-eat buffet, the next you're on a rollercoaster at a theme park.

for luffy, a date is about having fun with his partner, which is why he enjoys doing the most random things and not being too consistent. this is why it's kind of hard to say what exact ideal 'date' he prefers.

zoro

training or workout session or taking you out for drinks - these are two of zoro's favourite things, and he would love to do it with you

ZORO would love to train or workout with you, like a gym date. it's great that you can both get stronger together, but for him it's not just about that, he does genuinely want to spend time with you! if you get tired, he wouldn't pressure you to carry on, but rest with you, sit with you and talk with you.

on a different occasion, he would definitely take you to the bar at night, where you can both bond and chat over some drinks. don't worry - the drinks are all on him! (although he can't let nami know) you might have fun by trying to outdrink each other... although he's impossible to beat.

nami

a shopping date or salon date - and every spent penny is worth it

a shopping date with NAMI is guaranteed to be fun! you explore new shops together, try on new outfits, get snacks together... with nami, the money always ends up being well spent and never a waste. she won't hesitate to spoil you on something nice if the chance comes up...

alternatively, nami might take you to the salon or spa for a date, where you can get pampered together. if it's the salon, she might encourage you to try out a new look that she thinks suits you (hair, nails, etc). it's overall very relaxing but productive quality time.

usopp

dates with usopp are simple and relaxing - but involve lots of creative and fun activities

USOPP doesn't go over-the-top with dates but instead chooses activities where you can have fun and maybe learn something new. a pottery or painting class/date is a cute idea for him because you can both spend time on a skill and bond together, as well as get creative.

he might come up with something more original like creating a scavenger hunt date for you - all set up by him for your amusement with a prize at the end! (the prize will probably end up being him, but you're overjoyed regardless)

sanji

sanji goes all out for dates - you will get treated like royalty with him, no exceptions

SANJI, being a huge romantic and a chef means dinner dates (and also lunch dates), and lots of them. expect nothing less than the most perfect meals you've ever had, because he puts extra effort into the food just for you!

a candle-lit table for two, decorated with roses, with the plates and cutlery neatly laid out, and the food and drinks perfectly prepared is ready just for you, maybe even with some romantic music in the background depending on the occasion. he tries to make something new each time so you always have something new to look forward to, and enjoys the look on your face when you're delighted with the food.

a different option is an aquarium date because of how much sanji loves the ocean... he might yap about the different kinds of fish on display, where they come from, and how they could be cooked (the fish are scared for their lives) (also pretend the sunny doesn't already have an aquarium)

ace

like luffy, ace is full of surprises, but he still wants to make sure that he has the best quality time with you on a date

when it comes to a date, ACE wants to ensure you have the best fun but also wants to connect with you on a deeper level.

bonfire night with ace is the perfect date to spend time with ace (yes, he's the one making the bonfire). he might even bring some fireworks to make it more fun and exciting.

you sit and have drinks together under the stars and talk about all kinds of things, and he tells you all about his latest travels and adventures with his crew. he won't let you go home without you laughing at his jokes.

law

for dates, law enjoys quiet and private settings where you can both enjoy yourselves away from everybody else.

LAW might take you to a peaceful and quiet setting like a library, where you can read together and catch up on things, and he'll even suggest books for you to read. if you're not a reader - he might pick out a book and read you something that he thinks might interest you.

an alternative but similar date idea is going to a cafe with law. he likes having deep conversations over coffee or tea with you, it's relaxing for you both and he feels like he learns more about you on dates like these. he's not the type to do big romantic gestures like sanji - instead he enjoys the little things when it comes to dates.

© luffydotcom

[sophsbookstore]

i loved the quinn x pregnant!reader 💕 i was wondering if you could write one of their baby shower, where quinn is just being so attentive since it can get overwhelming tyy

Little All Star

Quinn Hughes x Pregnant!reader

read part 3 here!

Word count: 1564

Hockey Masterlist

A/N: Baby shower time!! (I also added a gender reveal at the end!)

The room buzzed with a chaotic symphony of laughter, chatter, and the clinking of champagne flutes (sparkling cider for her, of course). (Y/N), radiant with a seven-month glow, navigated the crowded living room of their Vancouver home with practiced ease, a hand resting protectively on her swollen belly. It was her baby shower, and the guest list read like a who's who of the NHL. Seriously, almost every player seemed to be there, along with their wives and girlfriends. It was a testament to Quinn's popularity, and to the genuine warmth (Y/N) herself radiated.

(Y/N) turned to Nathan MacKinnon and his partner. "Nate! You made it! I was worried you’d still be stuck in practice."

"Wouldn't miss it for the world," Nate grinned, handing her a gift bag. "Congrats, (Y/N) and Quinn. You two are going to be amazing parents."

She moved on, greeting Auston Matthews, Cale Makar, and a slew of other hockey stars and their families. It was a whirlwind of well-wishes, baby advice (solicited and unsolicited), and gifts that ranged from adorable knitted outfits to high-tech baby monitors. Quinn, ever the gracious host, was circulating too, though (Y/N) noticed he kept a watchful eye on her, always ready to steer her away from any potential bumps or overly enthusiastic hugs.

After working her way through the room, (Y/N) clinked a spoon against a champagne glass, the sound cutting through the din. "Okay, everyone, can I have your attention for a moment?" she announced, a playful smile on her face. The room quieted down, all eyes turning towards her.

"First off, thank you all so much for being here. It means the world to Quinn and me to have you all celebrate this special moment with us. We're so excited to welcome our little one into the world, and we can't wait for all the chaos and joy that's to come."

She paused, gesturing towards a table laden with plain white onesies and fabric markers in every color imaginable. "Now, for a little activity. We'd love for each of you to personalize a onesie for our baby. Get creative! Draw a picture, write a message, whatever you like. We'll cherish these forever."

A murmur of excitement rippled through the room. Hockey players, known more for their skills on the ice than their artistic abilities, suddenly became engrossed in the task at hand. Auston Matthews meticulously drew a maple leaf, while Cale Makar opted for a more abstract design. Even Quinn, usually so reserved, was sketching something with a focused expression. (Y/N) watched him, her heart swelling with love. She knew he was going to be the most amazing dad.

Her future in-laws, Quinn’s parents and brothers, were beaming with pride. They hovered nearby, offering (Y/N) snacks and drinks, making sure she was comfortable. "You're glowing, sweetheart," Quinn’s mom, Ellen, said, squeezing her hand. "You and Quinn are going to make such wonderful parents."

As the afternoon progressed, the onesie-decorating continued, the laughter and chatter never ceasing. (Y/N) felt overwhelmed with love and gratitude. Looking around at the room full of people who cared about her and Quinn, she knew that their baby was already surrounded by so much love.

The aroma of mini quiches, sliders, and an assortment of other delectable finger foods filled the air. The onesie decorating had transitioned seamlessly into a relaxed buffet-style meal. Guests mingled, plates in hand, the earlier artistic endeavors now a source of amusement and lighthearted ribbing. (Y/N), however, was content to perch on a plush armchair, a plate of fruit and a small pastry balanced on her bump. She watched the scene unfold with a warm smile, feeling a profound sense of happiness.

Suddenly, Quinn was beside her, his hand gently resting on her shoulder. "Hey," he said softly, his eyes filled with concern. "You okay? You've been sitting here for a while."

(Y/N) looked up at him, her smile widening. "I'm perfect," she assured him, taking his hand in hers. "Just soaking it all in. It's amazing to see everyone here celebrating with us."

Quinn's gaze softened as he looked at her. "You're amazing," he murmured, his thumb gently stroking her hand. He glanced down at her belly. "And so is this little one."

"They're both great," (Y/N) confirmed, patting her bump affectionately. "Really. I'm feeling good. A little tired, maybe, but good."

Quinn still looked a little worried. "You sure? You haven't been up and moving around much."

(Y/N) chuckled. "I'm seven months pregnant, Quinn. Moving around isn't exactly my favorite pastime these days." She squeezed his hand. "Go on, enjoy yourself. Talk to the guys. I know you haven't seen some of them in a while."

Quinn hesitated. "I'm good here with you," he said, his eyes never leaving hers.

"Quinn," (Y/N) said gently, "I want you to have fun too. This is a celebration for you as well. Go on. I promise I'll be fine. My mom and your mom are keeping a close eye on me," she added, nodding towards the two women who were indeed hovering nearby, chatting animatedly.

Quinn finally relented, though his expression still held a hint of worry. "Okay," he said, giving her hand a final squeeze. "But I'll be checking in every five minutes."

(Y/N) laughed. "Deal."

He leaned down and kissed her forehead, then brushed a stray strand of hair from her face. "I love you," he whispered.

"I love you too," (Y/N) replied, her heart overflowing with love for this man who was so devoted to her and their unborn child.

As Quinn went off to join his teammates, (Y/N) watched him go, a soft smile playing on her lips. She knew he would always worry about them. It was just the kind of person he was. And honestly, she wouldn't have it any other way. It was a testament to his love, a love that she knew would only grow stronger when their little one finally arrived. She looked down at her belly, feeling a tiny flutter. "Your dad's a good one," she whispered to her baby. "We're lucky to have him."

The buffet tables were now mostly cleared, the remnants of the delicious food a testament to the celebratory feast. (Y/N) and Quinn, hand in hand, made their way to the center of the living room, a shared, excited glint in their eyes. They had a little surprise planned, a grand finale to the already wonderful afternoon.

"Alright everyone," (Y/N) announced, her voice ringing with anticipation. "We have one more little thing to share with you all before you go."

Quinn stepped forward, placing a protective arm around her. "We're so excited to finally reveal the gender of our baby," he said, his gaze sweeping over the crowd of smiling faces.

A collective gasp rippled through the room, followed by a flurry of excited whispers. The guests had been eagerly awaiting this moment. (Y/N) had strategically avoided any hints throughout the shower, keeping everyone guessing.

"And to help us with this very important announcement," (Y/N) continued, gesturing towards the doorway, "we have two very special helpers."

As if on cue, Jack and Luke Hughes walked into the room, a dramatic flair in their steps. The crowd erupted in laughter. Jack was decked out head-to-toe in blue, while Luke was a vision in pink. The brothers grinned mischievously at each other, the playful rivalry evident in their eyes.

"So," Quinn explained, a smile playing on his lips, "the Hughes brothers are going to settle this once and for all. A little brotherly competition to reveal whether we're welcoming a little hockey player or a future hockey player!"

The room erupted in cheers and laughter. Jack and Luke squared off, their playful banter echoing through the room. They started “play” fighting, shoving each other lightly, much to the amusement of the crowd. It was clear they were enjoying the theatrics of it all. The playful wrestling match continued for a few minutes, with both brothers putting on a show. Finally, after a particularly dramatic tumble, Jack emerged victorious, pinning Luke to the ground.

"It's a boy!" Jack shouted, pumping his fist in the air, his blue attire now even more prominent.

The room exploded. Cheers, whistles, and applause filled the air. Quinn let out a whoop of joy, pumping his fists in the air mirroring his younger brother and then turning to (Y/N) and pulling her into a passionate kiss.

"We're having a little boy!" he exclaimed, his voice filled with pure happiness.

The hockey players in the crowd went wild. "Future NHL star!" someone yelled. "Another Hughes brother on the ice!" "Get him a mini stick!" others shouted, their voices filled with excitement.

(Y/N) laughed, her eyes sparkling with tears of joy. She looked around at the room, at all the people who were sharing in their happiness, and felt an overwhelming sense of gratitude. Their little boy was already so loved.

As the celebration continued, (Y/N) leaned into Quinn, her hand resting on her belly. "Looks like we're going to have our hands full," she murmured.

Quinn smiled, kissing her forehead. "I wouldn't have it any other way," he replied, his eyes filled with love and anticipation. "I can't wait to meet our little guy."

[mysafehaneul]

SEVERALITY: CHAPTER 4

CHAPTER 1, Previously

A Seventeen Mafia X Doctor AU! Seungcheol X Reader

CHAPTER 4

ִֶָ𓂃 ࣪˖🦢 ִֶָ་࿐ Song: Black Swan ִֶָ𓂃 ࣪˖🦢 ִֶָ་࿐

Chandeliers hung like frozen constellations from the high coffered ceilings, bathing the room in soft golden light. Old colonial ballroom now restored to modern perfection Tall arched windows were draped in velvet the colour of deep wine, casting shadows over the parquet floors that glinted beneath polished shoes.

The tables were set in a semicircle around the central stage, dressed in rich cream linens with gold lace overlays. Centrepieces of white orchids and eucalyptus sat in tall crystal vases, flickering in the candlelight. Gold-rimmed glasses held sparkling wine, and waiters in black waistcoats wove between guests with silver trays balanced on white-gloved hands.

The colour theme of the evening was ivory and garnet, reflected in everything from the napkins to the floor-length gowns of the event staff. Even the champagne bore a faint blush tint, poured into fluted glasses that clinked gently amid muted conversations.

A long buffet table near the east wall groaned under the weight of gourmet selections: truffle mushroom risotto, citrus-glazed duck, imported cheeses, delicate hors d'oeuvres on miniature porcelain spoons. An ice sculpture of Commissioner Salereno’s badge stood at the far end—melting slowly under the warmth of the room. Cameras flashed across the ballroom, gliding over polished shoes and sequined gowns. The elite of the city had gathered—politicians, business magnates, and shadows that ruled behind the scenes. lavish retirement party thrown in honour of Commissioner Tony Salereno.

The tension was still lingering, animosity thick in the air. Min Jaein stood near the centre of it all, quiet and unassuming, yet impossible to ignore. His second wife, Cassandra Min, is on his  left  side. White gown, sleek black hair, whose ends whispered near her shoulders  a sharp nose and petal shaped lips, she was a vision, and much more than that during her younger days  She was the daughter of a once-revered export tycoon—a man beloved by the people for his humble beginnings and charitable heart. It was he who saw potential in the then-disgraced Han Jaein and placed him beside himself as his right hand and later as his son-in-law, trusting the silent ex-convict to carry his legacy forward.

Jaein never strayed. He was dutiful, respectful, and steady. But Cassandra always knew his heart belonged elsewhere. She wasn’t foolish—she saw it in his silences, in the heaviness behind his eyes. And she hated that woman—and whatever she left behind —with a burning passion.

Eyes sweeping across the room when Cassandra’s vision registered an all-too-familiar face,  Antina Salvatore neé Choi, Siwon’s wife, had known each other since they were girls. Same schools, same etiquette clubs, same elite circles. Their lives often collided. They were civil now—friends, even—but there was always something unspoken between them, a tension carefully dressed in pearls and pleasantries.

Antina Salavatore belongs to one of the most prominent arms traders in Italy, quite close to the Bulavias , related somehow.  Anita was no less than a mafia princess and had faced the same fate as women in this world do, but she had luck on her side and Siwon in her palms so maybe life was easier for her, or that's what others thought.  

Min Jaein had two sons with Cassandra. Both boys bore her striking features, but it was only the eldest who had inherited his father’s intellect. Jaein loved his sons deeply. Yet there was always a hollow ache in his chest—especially when he saw young women their age. He had no idea what became of his daughter and her mother after his release from prison. James Min had brought him back into the fold and gave him a second chance. But by the time Jaein found the courage to search, eight years had passed. He was told they were gone—both mother and daughter, dead. No graves. No trace. Just gone.

Cassandra had already entered his life by that time and there wasn’t much he could do about it either. At the end of the day, it was his father-in-law’s deal with him  . And now, any hint of disloyalty—real or perceived—set the entire household on fire. There is no doubt that Cassandra is a very smart woman, but she is also equal amounts of evil and possessive, and that’s the truth. No one knows better than Jaein, and by the time he could do something about it, their eldest son was already 6 and the second was on the way. 

The party thrummed with music and muted diplomacy.

Cassandra and Antina exchanged practised smiles and greetings. Meanwhile, Siwon and Jaein shared a firm handshake—brief, but significant—followed by a flash. 

Antina, ever graceful, ever watchful, tilted her head and said with a polite smile, “So… what’s the plan for your eldest? Marriage talks yet?”

Cassandra matched her tone, her eyes flicking to her husband for a second too long. “Discussions are ongoing. But he is still young, just 24, so we’re not rushing him. But after all, there’s no union stronger than marriage, wouldn’t you agree?” She smiled sweetly at Jaein.

Antina raised her glass. “How many children did you say you had?”

It was a loaded question. She already knew the answer. Jaein caught the glint in the woman��s eyes. 

Cassandra responded smoothly. “Two sons.”

Siwon’s brow twitched. He remembered a girl—someone younger than Seungcheol. A daughter. He turned to Jaein, studying his face.

“Aren’t you missing someone?”

Jaein’s expression didn’t change, but Cassandra’s fingers stiffened around her champagne flute.

“What was the girl’s name?” Siwon pressed. “Y/N?”

Cassandra cut in before Jaein could speak. “She’s dead. Sadly she passed away with her poor mother.”

Jaein’s voice was flat, hollow. “Shall we greet the other guests, honey?”

She gave a short nod.

As they drifted away, the names were exchanged like cold pleasantries.

“Siwon.”

“Jaein.”

“Antina”.

“Cassandra”.

The message had been delivered. Clearly, publicly.

By morning, photographs of the event were plastered across the front pages of the local times and splashed across social media. The headline didn’t need to say much.

A line had been drawn.

A truce declared.

For now. 𓅰 𓅬 𓅭 𓅮 𓅯𓅰 𓅬 𓅭 𓅮 𓅯𓅰 𓅬 𓅭 𓅮 𓅯𓅰 𓅬 𓅭 𓅮 𓅯

Susan Paul stood near the edge of the ballroom, her gaze scanning the crowd like a seasoned general surveying a battlefield. The glittering party, dressed in tailored suits and wine-red gowns, spun on with laughter, camera flashes, and veiled threats masked as compliments.

Her fingers curled around the stem of an untouched glass of white wine.

“You’ve come far,” came a voice beside her—gravel, low, familiar.

She turned slightly. Her predecessor stood next to her, his frame a little more stooped, his hair more salt than pepper now, but his eyes—those eyes—still razor sharp. He handed her a drink, something darker, heavier.

“Bourbon,” he said. “You’ll need it.”

She accepted it, even though she knew better than to drink too much at an event like this.

He didn’t look at her, only at the crowd. At the Min family. The Chois. The mayor. The senator. People who could make or break a city without ever stepping into a council chamber.

“You see it, don’t you?” he said quietly. “All the pieces moving. Every word rehearsed, every hand shaken like a dagger sheathed.”

“I see a city that needs saving,” Susan replied, her voice calm but laced with steel.

He let out a dry chuckle. “I used to talk like that. Fresh out of the academy, thinking I could burn the rot out of this place. But rot has roots, Commissioner.”

She turned to him more fully, eyes hard. “So what? You gave up?”

“I got smart,” he said, sipping his drink. “You think bringing down the Min family or the Chois is the solution? When they fall, someone else takes the throne—someone worse, maybe more unpredictable or cruel. These people aren’t weeds. They’re part of the architecture. You can’t just pull them out. You learn to shape them, prune them, control the overgrowth.”

Susan’s jaw tightened. “You think I don’t know the risks?”

“No,” he said, eyes finally meeting hers. “I think you do. I also think you’re still human. And I recognise that spark in you. Better than anyone else could.”

She held his gaze.

“But if you want to save the people,” he continued, ��there are ways to do it. Ways that don’t involve getting too close.”

He let the words hang for a moment before nodding toward the far end of the ballroom, where Han Jaein stood, drink in hand, exchanging cool glances with Min Siwon.

“If one is fire,” he said lowly, “the other is gasoline. You get too close, Commissioner—”

“And the city burns,” she finished, softly.

He didn’t answer.

Just sipped his bourbon, then slipped into the crowd, vanishing like smoke from an old war.

Susan looked down at the drink in her hand, then out at the party again—at the rot, the masks, the fire waiting for a spark.

She didn’t sip.

She simply watched.

𓅰 𓅬 𓅭 𓅮 𓅯𓅰 𓅬 𓅭 𓅮 𓅯𓅰 𓅬 𓅭 𓅮 𓅯𓅰 𓅬 𓅭 𓅮 𓅯

The night was unfolding like a polished political opera—glass clinks, soft jazz from the quartet, silk gowns grazing marble floors. Seungcheol stood near the back patio, blazer slung casually over one shoulder, hair swept back with a kind of curated recklessness. He had no patience for these events, especially not tonight.

He took a sip of his drink, sharp and neat, when a voice sliced through the chatter.

“You always look like you’re moments away from picking a fight,” a honeyed tone teased. “Is that what you’re thinking or is it just your face?”

He turned, slightly, to find the commissioner’s daughter, Salone, standing beside him. She wore a deep emerald satin gown with a thigh-high slit and matching heels that clicked confidently with every step. Her neckline framed a collarbone etched in elegance, and her red lips curled into a smirk that had too much knowledge behind it.

“Depends,” Seungcheol replied, giving her a once-over. 

She laughed, leaning closer. “Smooth. But I’ve heard you’re not exactly the marrying type.”

“I’m not exactly the party type either. And yet here I am.”

She tilted her head, her earrings catching the chandelier’s light. “I think you enjoy being watched more than you admit.”

He settled his gaze on her, waiting for her to continue but from the line of his vision, he saw his mother making her way towards him, slicing through the room like a blade in silk. 

"Cheol-ie", she said smoothly, “you’ll let your mother steal you for a dance, won’t you?”

He blinked, then smiled tightly. “You’re not very subtle,” he muttered.

“Whatever do you mean, my darling?” His mother’s slight curve and the impending meaning behind it weren’t lost on him. 

As they stepped onto the floor, the music swelled. Anita moved gracefully, but Seungcheol was stiff, eyes darting to where his father stood laughing beside Senator Ray. 

“Still sulking over your father’s decision?” she asked, raising a brow.

“I’m not sulking,” he muttered.

She smirked knowingly. “You’re angry that your father shook hands with a man you’d rather see under concrete.”

He said nothing.

“So?” she asked after a beat. “What do you think of the commissioner’s daughter? She’s got ambition. Smart too. Not to mention easy on the eyes.”

“She’s… alright,” Seungcheol replied curtly.

Anita’s brow arched. “That doesn’t sound like a glowing review.”

“Because I’m not buying a damn car, Mother.”

She chuckled softly. “You don’t believe in marriage?”

“I believe in leverage,” he said flatly. “And I’ve seen what love does. Look at Mincheol . Look at what it cost him. You think I want that?”

Anita’s steps slowed. Why would you say that? he has a nice wife who can support him in his career a beautiful son.” 

“But is he happy?”

Anita sighed effortlessly slipping into Italian, “Choel-ie, happiness isn’t constant and in the life we live, we have to pick our moments. Everyone has their differences; nothing is a cakewalk – even the most romantic of the loves have their own problems– I know the type of expectations people put on you and Mincheol, but I have raised you both to try and seek a window to some stability, some normalcy in the midst of all of this.  So tell me, no one has caught your attention? Not even a spark?”

Seungcheol was about to shake his head when an image—brief, uninvited—flashed in his mind: the cardiologist in their new hospital. The one with the clipped voice, firm eyes, and the no-nonsense walk. The one who didn’t cower in his presence.

His jaw tensed. “No.”

But Anita saw it—the flicker.

“You hesitated,” she said, amused. “Who is it?”

“No one, Mama,” he answered too quickly.

They circled around once more, and when Anita glanced over his shoulder, she found the commissioner’s daughter staring at them from across the room, her smile still in place—but her eyes narrowed.

“Careful, Seungcheol,” Anita said softly. “In a room like this, even your silences speak. But I am sure, whoever it is, she will be one lucky girl...."

𓅰 𓅬 𓅭 𓅮 𓅯𓅰 𓅬 𓅭 𓅮 𓅯𓅰 𓅬 𓅭 𓅮 𓅯𓅰 𓅬 𓅭 𓅮 𓅯

A week after the party 

Bright fluorescent lights bathed the hallway in a clinical glow as you walked alongside Dr Cordon, flipping through a patient file on his tablet while the steady click of your shoes echoed against the polished floor.

“So, Dr Noyan  and Dr Im for the next cardiac run?” Dr Cordon asked, adjusting the clipboard in his hand.

“I’d like to see how Dr Im handles pressure before we bring him into a double bypass,” Y/N replied thoughtfully. “Let’s assign him to assist first. Batra can lead—she’s proven she can stay focused even when things get complicated.”

As they neared the central desk, soft chatter drifted from the nurses’ station, where a few staff nurses leaned in close, speaking in hushed, animated tones.

“Did you hear? The Mins and the Chois are working together now—Tony Salereno’s retirement party sealed the deal.”

“I thought they hated each other.”

“They did. But apparently, a handshake can buy peace if there’s enough money behind it,” one of the nurses snorted quietly.

Another chimed in, her voice tinged with curiosity, “This place feels more like a corporation now… We’ve got scanners that weren’t even in prototype last year.”

“Yeah, and patient load’s doubled. But hey, at least now we’ve got the funding to actually treat them properly.”

“The new director, he is the Choi’s youngest son– they say he’s really ruthless. His men sometimes come in and out of the mortuary; I’ve heard one of the night duty guards say it.”

“But he is so handsome,” making them collectively giggle. 

You caught fragments of their conversation as you  passed but didn’t let it show on your  face. “Doesn’t it feel like every floor is being reshaped overnight?” Dr Cordon asked, noticing your silence.

“It is,” Y/N said calmly, your  eyes flicking to the new security camera fixed in the corner. “They’re trying to build an empire from inside a hospital. We’re just… part of the blueprint.”

Dr Cordon gave you a sidelong glance. “You don’t approve.”

“I don’t disapprove,”  you murmured. “But I care more about scalpel precision than corporate mergers. As long as the OR stays neutral ground, I can live with it.”

Just then, the elevator at the far end of the corridor chimed open—and three men in dark suits stepped out, standing like sentinels. One of them locked eyes with Y/N briefly before speaking into his comm.

“Guess neutrality’s becoming harder to guarantee,” Cordon muttered.

You didn’t respond, eyes briefly narrowing before walking towards your cabin; you have an hour before you get back to rounds.

“Let’s prep the theatre schedule. We’ll make sure whoever steps in knows that here, only skill decides your worth.”

“Be easy on them; don’t forget you and Jeonghan were also in their place not too long ago.” 

Giving the man a nod, you opened your cabin door. locking the door behind you with a tired sigh. All you wanted was ten minutes of silence. But instead, your eyes locked on the last person you expected—or wanted—to see.

Seungcheol sat on your couch, his white dress shirt wrinkled, a smear of dried blood near the collar. His lip was split open, and his knuckles looked freshly bruised. He didn’t stand. He didn’t smile.

And much to your liking, this isn’t the first time he is sitting here nor a new state; it was rather the third time this week, reason unbeknownst to you. For someone so well trained and surrounded by security, he sure is sporting some petty injuries. Almost as if planned?  

“What are you doing here?” You asked flatly, not bothering to hide the irritation in your voice.

He leaned back slightly, arms resting along the backrest like this was his space. “I’m injured. Thought you’d fix me up.”

“The ER is two floors down.”

“I don’t like crowds.”

You crossed the room in silence, grabbed the first-aid kit, and set it down on the table with a thud. “Sit still.”

He didn’t argue, just watched you as you sat on the coffee table in front of him, snapping on gloves. You cleaned the blood around his knuckles with practised efficiency, your touch clinical. He studied you—eyes sharp, calculating.

“Are you always this quiet?” he asked.

You didn’t respond. You reached for antiseptic and swabbed it across the cut on his lip. He hissed through clenched teeth.

“You didn’t hesitate with that,” he muttered.

“Should’ve gone to the ER,” you replied, voice cold.

His gaze flicked to the photograph on your desk. He leaned sideways, squinting.

“Is that your dog?” he asked, ignoring the way you stiffened.

You didn’t answer.

It was a picture of you, Jeonghan and Rocky, your Doberman, from when you graduated med school. 

His eyes moved to the second photo. “That man... Cordon, right? He works in cardiology?”

“Head of surgery”, you said curtly.

“He looks like he’s known you a long time.”

You said nothing, focusing instead on bandaging his hand. The air was thick between you now. He didn’t look away from your face.

“What about your real family?”

You paused—just for a second. But you said nothing, taping the gauze down tight.

“Don’t talk much about them.”

“Because it’s none of your business,” you said simply, standing.

He tilted his head slightly, like he was trying to decode you. “You were raised by him?”

Your jaw tightened. You turned the picture frame face down on the table. “You’re done. You can go now, Director Choi .”

He stood slowly, flexing his hand, but his eyes hadn’t lost their interest. “Take a man out of his curiosity, doctor.”

“I can only take the man out of his illness. Goodnight, Director Choi.” your flat, disinterested tone laced with a finality. 

He didn’t press further; he just walked to the door, stopping once, hand on the knob.

“You know… Doctor”

You didn’t even blink. Waiting for him to continue

“Don’t you feel like we have met before?”

Silence.

Your tone was razor-sharp. “Do yourself a favour; ask the person responsible for the injury to refrain from hitting in the nose again, or else it will fracture and cause a breathing problem.”

A smile, in its rarity, graced his face as he opened the door. “I’ll see you around, doctor.”

You didn’t look up. Didn’t watch him leave. But only after the door shut and his footsteps faded down the hallway did your shoulders drop, the mask falter.

Alone again—but not at ease.

𓅰 𓅬 𓅭 𓅮 𓅯𓅰 𓅬 𓅭 𓅮 𓅯𓅰 𓅬 𓅭 𓅮 𓅯𓅰 𓅬 𓅭 𓅮 𓅯

A week ago, The night after the party 

The Choi estate still glowed with scattered candlelight and the clink of glasses being cleared. Seungcheol pushed open the heavy oak door of his father’s private study. Inside, Siwon sat behind a desk, jacket off, cufflinks undone, sipping from a glass of aged scotch as though he hadn’t just brokered peace with an old enemy.

Seungcheol didn’t knock.

Siwon glanced up.

“I should’ve been consulted.”

His father leaned back, swirling the amber liquid. “About what? A handshake between two men older than your anger?”

“You don’t get to lecture me about anger when you’ve built empires off it.”

A beat passed. Siwon set the glass down with quiet deliberation.

“This truce—this gesture—keeps your trucks on the road, your ships sailing, your cargo  in ports, your suppliers and buyers happy, and the lands and the buildings  It helps to keep your name clean and keeps the commissioner’s eyes off our books. It keeps you breathing in a city that eats men younger than you for breakfast.”

“I don’t want to survive by licking the boots of a man who once put a bullet in our cousin’s skull.”

Siwon stood now, slow and deliberate, walking around the desk. “You think this is weakness? You think making peace is surrender?”

Seungcheol’s jaw tightened. “I think you’re old. And tired. And too sentimental for the ghosts you buried.”

They were nose to nose now. Siwon didn’t blink.

“You’re smart, Seungcheol, but you're not wise. Not yet. You think this world is built on loyalty and vengeance. It’s not. It’s built on calculated debt. And every deal I make is one less bullet you’ll have to take later.”

Seungcheol laughed bitterly. “You always did love playing god.”

“And you always did love pretending you weren't born of a devil.”

For a moment, silence swallowed the room—two men, too alike, too stubborn.

Then Siwon’s tone dropped. “You want to tear down what I built? Fine. Do it when I’m dead. But as long as I breathe, you’ll follow the order I give—and right now, that order is truce.”

Seungcheol stared at his father, eyes burning—not with fear, but defiance. Then, without another word, he turned about and walked out

But his father’s voice stopped him.

“When you were young, you used to go to Jaein’s house to play.”

Seungcheol didn’t turn. His patience had long run dry.

“I don’t know. Maybe. So what?”

There was a pause. A flicker of hesitation in Siwon's usually impenetrable voice.

“Do you remember his daughter—the girl who used to follow around your older brother like a puppy?”

That made Seungcheol frown faintly. He looked over his shoulder. “I’m not sure I follow.”

Siwon stepped closer now, slower, measured, like he was delivering a confession no one was supposed to hear.

“Jaein claims she’s dead. But when our men went looking for Mira—his wife—and their daughter, only the mother’s body was found. Mira was dead. But the girl... Y/N... she was missing.”

Seungcheol stilled. Something shifted in his gut. “What was her name?”

A beat passed before his father answered. “Y/N”.

And just like that, the name hit him like a splash of ice water to the chest. His breath caught in his throat.

“I have a feeling she’s still out there,” his father muttered, more to himself now. “And that cunning bastard—he’s hiding her or something.”

But Seungcheol wasn’t listening anymore. That name—Y/N. He had heard it recently, too recently.

His mind flashed back to the hospital. The calm, assertive voice. The sharp intellect. The way she didn’t cower in front of him, even when every other doctor did. The way his name sounded so strangely different when it came from her mouth. Her gaze felt so similar when it landed on him. 

His fingers curled slightly, a mixture of curiosity and something far more dangerous coiling in his chest.

“Y/N…” he whispered under his breath.

His father didn’t notice the shift in his son’s demeanour or the distant look in his eyes. But something had changed.

Seungcheol felt a tingle of excitement course through his veins, the kind that sent a rush of energy surging from his chest to his fingertips. His lips curled into a faint, almost imperceptible smirk. That name—Y/N—it was like a spark had been lit inside him, and suddenly, everything else around him seemed to blur.

Without a word, he turned and left his father’s office, the weight of his thoughts pressing against his mind like a pounding drum. As the door clicked shut behind him, he felt a strange sense of anticipation build, twisting in the pit of his stomach.

Things just got really, really interesting.

END OF CHAPTER FOUR

A/N: Thank you so much for your lovely responses and comments. It surely is encouraging, but I would really appreciate it if you click the link attached to the Tag list attached at the end of the fic, cause it makes my work a little easier, so I dont end up missing out on someone.

Tag list: @seonghwaexile, @asyre, @xyzzzs-things, @kohielatte , @scuzmunkie , @blueskyandream-blog(Click the link on Tag List to be added.)

See you next week.

MSH

[divinit3a]

For the ask game 💕

💕 Time for a shout-out! What are some of your fav AUs from other creators in the fandom? ⭑ dca au ask game

^-^ ....OK! I shall set down all the cakes on the table for a full buffet! Get your forks & knives out! 🍽️🍽️🍽️

please don't hesitate to let me know if you'd prefer not to be @'d in the future, or to be removed from this post u_u <3 I totally respect folk's preferences!

✨ lets go! ⭑⭑⭑ ⭑⭑⭑ ⭑⭑⭑

@muzzlemouths Dead Mall Dare / DfTR AU(s) Dead Mall Dare was one of the first AUs I read (like, literally. 1-2 months ago!) & I went woooaaah they are fun removed from original context. Isn't that so neat ?? This isn't a rabbithole to fall in, tho. u_u No wayyy guys c'mon ... /j Likewise, DfTR is a treat to watch unfold & see people squirm ^-^

@r0b0-wannabe Botanical Garden AU (or just any of your stories, but I'm.. sticking to the law...s... ) Hi, I stayed up to 2-3am drawing ur boys bc Im normal about this AU & how endearing it is... obviously... (💚) I love your writing style & characterizations. Maybe this is silly, but, I also enjoy learning about plantcare, too :3

@sinister-sincerely 2nd Choice AU Oh, you are so evil. The username matches. (A COMPLIMENT!! Hehe.) Oh, you write drama, angst/no comfort, hurting/damaged characters making awful choices so well. It was wild doing a double-take to realize YOU! are the WRITER for 2nd choice!! Some day, I will get u. For now, run 💜🔪

@wyervan Human!Slasher AU :D Yay! Both the OG/Main storyline are wonderful. I find the community version very endearing as an AU-within-an-AU. (love that!) As someone who used to run RP groups (on god!) it fills my heart with joy to see people filling out a world with so much life. Your art style is delightfully grungy ^-^/

@pluck-heartstrings - Pluck My Heartstrings AU Ohhh. I am weak to fairytale/renfaire vibes, as well as the more classic harlequin jester aesthetic u_u<3 Plus, the Vocalist/Princess is just so dang compelling, too. Your design sense is impeccable.

@moon-buggg Haunted House & Mad Scientist AUs They are both so neat & I can't wait to learn more!! The Haunted House AU designs live in my head rent free along with the comics :3

@zenkaiankoku Broken but Better AU Lovely, torn-up designs! Yay, mechanical horror! Yay, angst!! And a delightful remix of their personalities, too <3

@authormeat Alienware AU ^-^ I am instantly delighted by the weird guy freak energy & that the yn IS an alien/monster. Thats all I want & more. I also love ur designs for other AUs

...

...

...... 🧍 I Have More to Say

And...And... Not.. AU specific, but 🏏💥BAM , BAM 💥🏏 LOVELY FOLKS!!!!!!

🍲 <{ @soupdweller THERE IS NO ESCAPE ok but fr.. I appreciate ya, homie :3 you are a joy to chat with!! beautiful art!! evil mind!! delicious soups. i cant wait for whatever u cook up ^-^ 🐤 <{ @luckyyyduckyyy I WILL READ UR AU STORIES!! RUN & HIDE!!! you are the goofiest goober in the wild west, by goodness. i love ur energy and the gorgeous designs u create!! 🐛 <{ @chickenchirps27 ACK I COULD STARE AT UR ART FOREVER! I'll have to start volleying over illustrators I think ya might enjoy... u are so sweet & funny!! 🐐 <{ @lurking-loaf YOU ARE SO KIND! Seriously, I appreciate the fun craft projects you recommended -& your words of support :') 🔮 <{ @anis-sketches :D HI! Happy to throw recs your way. Also, your art is adorable!! 🌿 <{ @craykaycee HI TO U TOO!! the tags u leave always make me smile, and i appreciate u stopping by to say hi... :3 & MANYMANY MORE BUT I NEED TO CUT MYSELF OFF OR ELSE

Per usual, I lost sight of the original goal. But! Consider:

🏏💥WHAM , BAM 💥🏏 GOTCHU >:)

[kaziwi]

Don't Mention It

Character(s): Law

WC: 1,153

Summary: You and the crew celebrate Law's birthday...but not in the way he'd expect

Note: happy birthday law <3

Law slowly opened his eyes, waking up from a good nights rest. It was rare for the captain of the Heart Pirates to get his full 8 hours, but after Bepo had asked to cuddle he couldn't say no. The soft fur and warmth radiating from Bepo lulled him to sleep, and now he lied awake, way behind his schedule.

He knew what today was. His birthday. Law just never liked the idea of birthdays...and the memories that came with them. Each year he begged the crew not to mention it, and treat it as a normal day, but they always failed to do so. He hoped this year would be different.

Law quickly changed out of his pajamas and made himself look presentable. He could already hear the teasing from Shachi and Penguin for waking up late. As he left his quarters, he noticed the Polar Tang to be surprisingly quiet. He made his way to the kitchen and was shocked to see a whole buffet of food laid across the table. And the best part...there was no bread.

"Mornin Cap! Never thought I'd see the day when you slept in," Ikkaku teased as she washed the dishes. He didn't even notice her here.

"This is more breakfast than we usually eat...is it for...special occasion?" Law obviously knew this was for his birthday, but for some reason he wanted to hear someone else say it.

"Hmm, I don't think so...unless I'm forgetting something."

Oh...that was kinda weird...Ikkaku didn't mention it was his birththday. No matter, someone else was bound to eventually.

Law sat down and began to take some of the food that was spread across the table. In all honesty it was probably the best breakfast he'd ever eaten. He handed his plate to Ikkaku and began to make his rounds.

He had expected to see Shachi and Penguin goofing off, or having to fix something that Bepo messed up, but everything was perfect. The ship was at top maintenance and all of the chores were completed. When he had gone back to question Ikkaku about where everyone was, she said they had all gone out to the island they docked at to explore.

It's not like Law didn't enjoy the quiet, he basically begged for it everyday, but it just felt strange. He decided to use this opportunity to go to his room and read a new medical textbook he got. Hopefully that would help to pass the time.

Knock Knock

"Captainnnnnn open upppppp!!!"

Law didn't even know how much time had passes, but it seemed Shachi and Penguin were back from exploring the island. Law reluctantly let them in, knowing that they were going to make a big deal about it being his birthday now.

"Cap you will never believe what we found," Shachi started.

"Close your eyes and hold out your hands okay, trust us," Penguin said excitingly.

Law let out a long sigh and indulged their request. Something was put in his hands. It wasn't too heavy...but it wasn't light either. He opened his eyes, and his jaw almost dropped. It was the limited edition Sora Warrior of the Sea art book. He could see how Shachi and Penguin's faces beamed at his reaction.

"I knew you'd like it Cap! We saw it while exploring today and knew we had to get it for you!" Penguin said while Shachi nodded in agreement.

"Wow this is...," Law started, "Amazing, thank you both.."

Caught up in the excitement of his new gift, Law almost forgot that this had to be a birthday gift, there was no way it wasn't.

"So, what prompted you to get this gift," Law questioned, "Was it because it's a special day today?"

"Is it? We just saw it and thought you'd like it," Penguin said, looking at Shachi.

"Yeah, I mean we can return it if you'd like," Shachi chimed in.

"No! No you don't have to. I really like it, thank you again," Law said with a hint of disappointment. Was it really a coincidence that they bought him this gift, or were they lying about not knowing it was his birthday. He ushered them out of his room and sat back his desk. There was no way the whole crew forgot it was his birthday....right?

Throughout the rest of the day, each one of the Heart Pirates made their way to Law's room and gave him a gift. Even Bepo came in with a bouquet of flowers (they were actually weeds) that he has picked just for Law.

Law was very appreciative of all the gifts, but was a little sad no one had said happy birthday yet. He knew each year he begged them not to, but now that they hadn't acknowledged it at all....he almost missed the attention.

It wasn't till later that night, after they had eaten his favorite dinner, made only entirely by "coincidence", that he got his first happy birthday.

Knock Knock

"Come in Y/N-ya," Law said, eyes not looking up from his book. He could already tell it was you, since you were the only one not to visit today.

You walked in, holding something behind your back.

"Happy birthday Captain," you said with a big smile. Law looked up, a little shocked by your words, and stared into your eyes.

"You..said it.."

"I mean, I'm sure you realized that all of the gifts, the ship being in tip top shape, and the food wasn't all a coincidence. Everyone wanted to make your day easier and fun! We just didn't want to mention it was your birthday since you always tell us not to....but I'm sure by now you figured it out."

Law really hadn't thought that all of these acts were for his birthday. He had a small suspicion, but without anyone confirming it he didn't want to get his hopes up.

"I know my gift isn't as big as everyone else's," you smiled sheepishly, "But I still hope that you'll like it!"

You handed a small box to Law as he took it with caution. He opened it up and gasped at it's contents.

Inside was about 40 collectors coins, all ones he didn't have in his collection.

"Y/N-ya...how...I mean.."

"I started finding them a few islands ago and decided to get as many as I could for your birthday! Everyone else also pitched in a little and gave one to me if they found one!"

He dumped the coins on his desk. Each one with a new island's name on it. Sabaody....Water 7....Alabasta...and even some places he hadn't even heard of.

"Thank you," Law said, a soft grin appearing on his face, "Tell everyone else I said thank you too."

"Of course Captain," you said as you left the room, eager to tell everyone that operation "Celebrate Law's birthday and also respect his wishes by not mentioning it" was a success.

[in-the-drowning-deep]

Your OC in the Ballroom - Esha Mercar

Thanks to @thatgaymerguyb for the tag!! Kalen's post was an absolute delight.

I put together a post for Lucien earlier in the week, but I've been mulling over Esha's ever since, so this was a lovely chance to yap about my girl!

CLOTHING

What’s your OC’s go-to aesthetic for a ball? Is it consistent or varied? What’s their goal behind this? are they just trying to fit in, to distract, to mislead?

Went back and forth with this one for ages, because my initial thought was to put her in a suit - but no. She's from Tevinter. Even non-mage outfits there tend to skew towards robes, regardless of gender, and as a mage herself, there's a lot of room for exploring what butchness looks like with flowing knee-to-floor-length clothes.

So! She starts out wearing relatively quiet, demure pieces at first (I love the idea of Neve offering to get one of her dresses tailored to fit, for the initial round of formal victory celebrations/memorials). But as she goes round Tevinter, and round Thedas, it becomes increasingly clear that people are never not going to be weird about at least one aspect of her identity - whether that's the Tevene part, the mage part, or the elf part - so she decides fuck it, I'm going to lean into it all. Take all of me, or nothing at all.

Most of her ball clothes - like Lucien's - are cut to broaden her shoulders and give her a more authoritative look (and also as a sense of armour, to honour her family background). The main colour palette is red and blue for the Shadow Dragons, though more gold and embroidery gets mixed in, both from her mother-in law and as a nod to (what's left of) her Rivaini birth clan as she gets to know them better.

The one really important thing? She needs to be able to move her arms and cast spells, just in case shit goes down. It hasn't yet, but she's always at least a little bit guarded against it.

LOCATION

Where are you most likely to find your OC during a ball? Balcony? Bar? Spying behind privacy screens?

Ideally for Tarquin's/Dorian's nerves, particularly at a political event, she'll be within arm's reach of someone who can intervene before she picks a (probably verbal) fight with any of the ruder guests.

Generally speaking, she'll stick around for the absolute minimum amount of required schmoozing for a Hero of Thedas, then grab as much stuff from the buffet table as she can fit on a plate and fuck off to the gardens or a quiet balcony with Lace and/or her friends.

DANCING

What’s their opinion on dancing? Do they have a favorite type of dance?

Dancing she's okay with! She tends to favour line/circle dances, but Lucien and Dora teach her a couple of fancier ones, and honestly she has a great time spinning her tutee around the floor. Lace isn't a big fan of dancing in the middle of the ballroom, so if she's also there, Esha will try and find somewhere quiet they can still hear the music and dance out there. Or she'll grab a friend - whoever's in reach - and drag them out.

(I feel like she and @rooks-dagger's Ember would absolutely kill it on the dance floor together tbh!)

[raelynnlynn]

⚠️ This fic is purely self indulgent. This may contain foul language. This is also a CANON x OC post. However, if you wish to self-insert, you can. :>

The Rose’s Lament

Chapter Three: Sugar, Spice, and Slightly Tipsy Goodbyes

<<< Chapter 2 °❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ Chapter 4 >>>

As they stepped through the portal, the reception venue unfolded before them like a page torn from a storybook—a breathtaking tapestry of emerald vines and golden blossoms, where dandelions caught the light like scattered coins and marigolds glowed like tiny suns against the greenery. The air hummed with laughter and lively chatter as guests meandered about, some admiring the floral arches that curved overhead like gilded ribs of some great, benevolent beast, others gravitating toward the lavish charcuterie displays that promised indulgence before the evening's feast.

Shadow Milk Cookie let out a low whistle as his eyes landed on the mountain of song requests piled beside the small orchestra's stage. "Wheww," he mused, plucking one slip of paper from the stack and squinting at the hastily scribbled title. "Looks—well, sounds like you'll be busy all night long, Songbird~"

Strawberry Meringue Cookie, already seated behind her harp, didn't glance up as her fingers drifted across the strings, coaxing out a melody so light it seemed to float on the air like pollen. "Sounds like it," she agreed, adjusting the fall of her skirts with a practiced flick of her wrist. Then, with a pointed arch of her iced brow, she added, "You'd better find yourself a dance partner, fool. These songs won't last forever."

Shadow Milk waved a dismissive hand, though the corner of his mouth twitched upward. "Yes, yes, spare me the lecture," he teased, already stepping backward as the music swelled around him.

The notes wrapped around the venue like ribbons, coaxing smiles from even the most reserved guests as Shadow Milk slipped into his seat beside the other Beasts.

The newlywed couple's arrival sent a ripple of excitement through the reception hall, and with their grand entrance came the unveiling of the most extravagant buffet the kingdom had ever seen—a veritable ocean of glistening jellies, tiered cakes dusted in edible gold, and delicate pastries arranged like works of art. The moment the buffet opened, guests descended upon it with the fervor of Cookiekind who had never known the sting of an empty stomach, their laughter ringing through the air as they piled their plates high with every confection imaginable.

Near the center of the frenzy, Crème Brûlée Cookie and Brio Biscotti Cookie—released from their musical duties by Strawberry Meringue's gentle dismissal—were locked in a heated battle over the last éclair, their squabble resembling nothing so much as two alley cats fighting over a scrap of fish. Just as Crème Brûlée prepared to deliver a scathing remark about 'uncultured palates,' Linzer Cookie swooped in, her detective's intuition honing in on the perfect distraction. With a well-timed question about 'the case of the missing macarons,' she diverted Crème Brûlée's attention just long enough for Brio to snatch the éclair from his plate with a triumphant "Ha!"

Meanwhile, Shadow Milk Cookie floated through the chaos with practiced ease, his own plate a carefully curated selection of cream puffs and miniature cakes. His gaze, however, was drawn to a spectacle unfolding nearby—a wobbling tower of jellies and pastries so precariously balanced it defied the laws of physics. Beneath it, GingerBrave teetered on his tiptoes, his arms trembling with the effort of keeping his edible skyscraper from toppling.

"G-GingerBrave..." Strawberry Cookie fretted at his side, her hood fluttering as she wrung her hands. "D-Don't you think that's a little... too much?"

"A little?!" Wizard Cookie squawked, his exasperation palpable. "That's enough sugar to power a small nation!"

Shadow Milk chuckled as he glided past them, weaving through the crowd until he reached the table where the other Beasts sat in varying states of amusement. But before he could so much as set down his plate, Candy Apple Cookie slid a meticulously arranged dish toward him, her grin wide and earnest.

"Here you go, Master~!" she chirped, practically vibrating with pride. "A plate of food from your trusty minions!"

Shadow Milk's expression softened. Once, he might have accepted such an offering without thought, too wrapped in his own grandeur to consider the hands that prepared it. But redemption had a way of sanding down even the sharpest edges of arrogance. With a gentle push, he nudged the plate back toward her.

"My trusty companions," he corrected, emphasizing the word as if it were a precious thing, "also need their nourishment~ I love, love, loveee your devotion, but I've already grabbed food for myself." He tapped the edge of her plate playfully. "This? This is for you, Candy Apple Cookie."

For a moment, she hesitated, her eyes flicking to Black Sapphire Cookie as if seeking confirmation. The taller Cookie merely shrugged, his usual stoicism betrayed by the faintest quirk of his lips as he nodded toward the food.

With a quiet sigh—one that carried the weight of old habits and new beginnings—Shadow Milk settled into his seat and took a delicate bite of a cream puff. Around him, the reception buzzed with life, the air thick with the scent of sugar and the sound of joy.

And for the first time in a long time, he found himself content to simply be.

The reception hall hummed with the warm cacophony of clinking silverware and boisterous chatter, the air thick with the scent of sugar and joy. Plates piled high with delicacies were passed around as guests returned for seconds—and thirds—with unapologetic enthusiasm. Who could blame them? The spread was nothing short of legendary.

As the last crumbs of dessert vanished and satisfied sighs filled the room, the sharp ting of silverware against crystal cut through the noise. All heads turned toward Hollyberry Cookie, standing proudly with her glass raised, her usual boisterous energy softened by genuine emotion.

"Friends, family, and absolute menaces—" She paused to wink at a particularly rowdy table. "—I'd like to take a moment to celebrate the love between Pure Vanilla Cookie and White Lily Cookie!"

The room erupted in cheers, glasses clinking as Hollyberry launched into a heartfelt speech. She recounted stolen glances between ancient tomes in the library, the way White Lily would pretend not to notice Pure Vanilla's flustered stuttering whenever she entered a room, and the infamous day their feelings finally spilled into the open—much to the exasperation of everyone around them.

By the end, Hollyberry's voice wobbled. "I-If—" She sniffled dramatically, accepting the seventh tissue from Dark Cacao's ever-patient hands. "—If you two ever have little doughs, swear I'll be their godmother! Don't you dare choose Golden Cheese Cookie!"

"Hey!" Golden Cheese squawked, indignant, while Pure Vanilla and White Lily turned varying shades of pink, their expressions caught somewhere between horror and amusement.

Then, it was Shadow Milk Cookie's turn. With a flourish, he floated to the mic, his grin dripping with mischief.

"You know..." He pointed at Pure Vanilla, his voice laced with theatrical accusation. "He stares at you, White Lily, like you've stolen the stars themselves—just to lay them at his feet."

Taking a deliberate sip of his drink, he levitated toward the couple, circling them like a shark. "The moment you both stepped into my Spire, I could feel it—that yucky, eewy, gooey lovey-dovey aura oozing off you. Frankly, I'm relieved you've finally stopped being oblivious. The tension was unbearable."

With a snap of his fingers, he summoned a portal, rummaging inside with exaggerated concentration. A confused rabbit popped out, twitching its nose at the crowd.

"Oops~! Wrong gift!" Shadow Milk chuckled, shooing the creature back before diving in again. This time, he emerged with two meticulously crafted stuffed dolls—miniature versions of the bride and groom, with a tiny dough baby nestled between them.

"For Shadow Milk Cookie Jr.," he declared, pressing the dolls into White Lily's hands with a wink. "Tell him Uncle Shadow Milk sends his love."

The room roared with laughter, Pure Vanilla burying his face in his hands while White Lily shook her head, her smile betraying her amusement.

Golden Cheese Cookie seized the mic next, her golden eyes glinting. "As some of you may know," she began, "White Lily and I had a contract: whoever married first owed the other gold." She sighed dramatically before a mischievous smile slithered onto her face. "Alas, I'll be waiting for my payment before you head off to your honeymoon~"

Strawberry Meringue, ever the instigator, leaned into the mic with a sly grin. "Did you all know Pure Vanilla came to me for poetry lessons?" She winked. "I'll be sure to send you the drafts. They're... enlightening."

Pure Vanilla groaned into his hands as White Lily burst into laughter, her shoulders shaking.

One by one, friends took the mic—sharing stories of secret pining, disastrous double dates, and the sheer relief when these two finally stopped dancing around each other. Gifts were exchanged, toasts were made, and by the time the music swelled again, the room was alight with joy.

As the night deepened and the moon climbed higher in the sky, the younger guests began to succumb to exhaustion. Strawberry Meringue Cookie gracefully made her exit, balancing a drowsy Brio Biscotti Cookie on one hip and a nearly-asleep Custard Cookie III on the other. The children's heads lolled against her shoulders, their eyelids fluttering as she whispered promises of warm milk and soft beds. Behind her trailed GingerBrave, Strawberry Cookie, Wizard Cookie, and Strawberry Crepe Cookie—the latter of whom kept glancing back at the party with visible longing, though even they couldn't hide their yawns.

Shadow Milk Cookie remained with the other Beasts, having already bid farewell to his ever-loyal companions, Black Sapphire and Candy Apple Cookie. Now, he lounged in his seat, swirling a glass of wine with idle elegance as he observed the scene unfolding before him.

Burning Spice Cookie, thoroughly inebriated, was currently holding court with an impassioned (if entirely incoherent) monologue, his words slurring together as he gestured wildly with a sloshing tankard of beer. Eternal Sugar Cookie, seated beside him, edged away with visible disdain, her nose wrinkling as droplets of ale threatened to stain her pristine sleeves.

"...At least Silent Salt's sober," Mystic Flour Cookie murmured, taking a delicate sip of her drink.

No sooner had the words left her mouth than Silent Salt's head hit the table with a resounding bang!, their usually rigid posture collapsing like a marionette with its strings cut.

Eternal Sugar winced. "Correction. They’re drunk. Extremely drunk."

Shadow Milk's eyes lit up with unholy glee. "Oooh~ That sounds like a sleepover!" he declared, already springing to his feet.

"None of us—" Eternal Sugar began, exasperated.

"It's a sleepover!" Shadow Milk sang over her, flinging open a portal to his Spire with a dramatic flourish. "Go on, go on, before Spicy and Salty puke all over the floor and ruin this expensive rug!"

With a series of long-suffering sighs (and in Burning Spice's case, a drunken hiccup), the Beasts allowed themselves to be herded through the portal—though not before Shadow Milk turned to offer a theatrical bow to the remaining Ancients.

"Until next time, darlings~!"

And with that, he vanished into the portal, leaving behind only the faint scent of blueberries and the echo of laughter.

The Spire, at least, would never be quiet tonight.

A/N: I’m still a bit new to CRK so some of the characters may not be correctly portrayed so I apologize for that, if you do have any tips for me to make this better, please leave them down the comments :D

Thank you for taking the time to read! Have a beautiful day ahead (*ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ꕤ*.ﾟ

[kakushino]

Hey, can I make a request for the event here?

I would love to request: 5, romance (like maybe enemies to lovers), Sanemi (KNY), SFW.

Thank you very much for taking your time to make that event!

𝕴 𝖓𝖊𝖊𝖉 𝖙𝖔 𝖐𝖎𝖘𝖘 𝖞��𝖚 - 𝖕𝖑𝖊𝖆𝖘𝖊

𝟷𝟶𝟶𝟶 𝔣𝔬𝔩𝔩𝔬𝔴𝔢𝔯𝔰 𝔢𝔳𝔢𝔫𝔱

AN: Mafia AU noone asked for hehe~ enemies to lovers is not my cup of tea so I hope I did well enough? pig = on side of law enforcement (cop/agent/etc so just imagine whatever you want)

Before you could defend yourself, you were yanked into a dark room.

“And what are you doing here?” he growled at you. The moonlight reflected off of his silvery scars, adding to his terrifying appearance. It was unfair to be this beautiful while being such an asshole.

“What’s it to you?” you hissed back. “I’m not here for you this time so you can kindly fuck off.” You snatched your arm back from his grip, glaring fiercely.

Sanemi just scoffed and crossed his arms. “Oh really? Then why are you dressed like- that?” In his favourite colour, he meant. So gorgeous, as if you wanted him to snatch you up.

“I’m dressed like I’m going to a party?” you asked sarcastically. 

“We both know you’re not here for the buffet, never mind the party.” 

“...and how do you know I’m not here for the buffet?”

“Because the sweet options don’t have your favourite fruit-to-chocolate ratio and the salty ones aren’t of your preferred spiciness,” he stepped closer to loom over you. “Busted, piglet.”

You knew you were caught, but like hell were you admitting that to your long-time adversary. He always slipped through your fingers just as you had him, though you weren’t able to do the same now - it was infuriating. How did he even know your tastes so well?

“Luckily for you, the party is Twelve Moons’ and we are so conveniently in the office of one of them,” he smirked, as though he had planned it all. He knew everything, he saw through you the moment he saw you today. 

You huffed and slipped by him with minor difficulty, brushing against his muscular form - that touch was going to fuel your future fantasies.

The room was slightly messy and had two tables and chairs, meaning it was likely the Shabana siblings’ office. You quickly made your way to the table without nail polish bottles on it to go through the papers you could see. Any information was good information.

You were surprised to see Sanemi go to Daki’s table to also leaf through the documents. 

You both worked fast but sure enough, you heard loud footsteps echo in the corridor outside the door, and you knew. Your luck was never that good, of course the person would come in and catch you and Sanemi both mid-act. You put what you were holding down, walking to his side swiftly and tugging on his shirt. 

“Shinazugawa-” you whispered hurriedly, “kiss me.”

He whirled around, with a grumpy “Hah?” 

“I need to kiss you - please-” you heard the footsteps stop and, panicking, you grabbed his dress shirt and dragged him in for a kiss. 

It took less than a second for him to crumble and groan into it, the sound very pleased. And by gods if it wasn’t intoxicating to let go, to finally give into the tension building between the two of you. 

Rough, scarred fingers pulled your hand off of his shirt and he pulled you closer, earning him a moan. The footsteps picked up again, clearly assuming someone was getting lucky. Thank the gods.

[love-fictional-ppl]

Petite!fem!reader w/ a high metabolism

Part 1

༚༅༚˳✿˳༚༅༚

Summary: this is part 2 to a request. reader goes off on “almond mom” for judging her for eating while out w her man🤞

Pairings: Sabo x reader, Trafalgar D. Water Law x reader

Warnings: language, Karens, mentions of sex, drinking, food (obviously), characters are kinda ooc

A/N: this was requested so long ago and I genuinely feel horrible for how long you have had to wait for a part 2. I hope that you atleast enjoy this @babbiebooc

༚༅༚˳✿˳༚༅༚

Sabo:

Tbh he finds it cute

Is that bitch that compares it to his little brother

Will ask you if you ate or if you’re hungry

Doesn’t fuss too much about your eating since he knows you can handle yourself

The revolutionary army had sent troops to an island village. You and Sabo at the moment had plenty of downtime.

“Sabooooo, I’m hungryyyy,” you whine.

“Let’s go get a bite to eat then,” Sabo replies. Wandering around looking for a tavern or restaurant, you finally spot a tavern.

You and Sabo find a spot to sit, out of the way but able to observe who came in and out. You were especially hungry today having ate nothing all day. You decided you didn’t mind spending money since you had just gotten paid.

Sabo ordered himself something to eat and a drink. You both chat and enjoyed your food and each other’s presence.

After a moment you noticed the slight frown on Sabo’s face. You sat and listened for a second and heard a woman talking with her family.

“It baffles me how some women can’t even have the decency to use proper table manners in front of their men,” you were fuming hearing her words.

Before you could do anything, Sabo spoke up, “And it baffles me you don’t even have the decency to talk about somebody you don’t know out of earshot.”

The woman looked flushed and overall embarrassed, nonetheless she went back to eating silently this time.

You couldn’t help feeling butterflies after seeing Sabo stick up for you.

“You know, that was really hot,” you told him.

“Was it?” He responded, cheeky.

“Why don’t we head on out of here?”

Sabo didn’t respond, he simply set down a sack full of berries to pay. He then, grabbed your hand pulled you and dragged you out the place.

Trafalgar D. Water Law:

He doesn’t really care honestly

In his opinion eating is healthy therefore if you wanna eat a entire buffet, knock yourself out

He only finds it odd that you eat so much but barely put on 2 pounds

Thinks ur stomach is a wormhole

You were hungry and wanted to get something to eat, Law originally wasn’t gonna come but then after 10 minutes he decided to join you.

You browsed the market set up in the town considering cooking something yourself, then you spotted a restaurant with the best looking desserts.

Law wandered off to go find a bar but promised he would return. In the meantime you decided to order yourself almost the entire menu.

While you were busy chowing down on a chocolate cake u hear a woman talking a few little girls. Maybe her daughter and her friends?

You hear the withered looking woman say, “You see how she’s sitting alone, that’s for a reason. Eat like that and you’ll be just like her when you’re big girls.”

You started tearing up out of frustration. “Actually you witch, there’s a reason why I eat the way I do. And I’m not alone, thank you very much, I have a boyfriend who will be here any minute. When he does get here me and him will be leaving to go have sex, have a good day.” You slammed the money on the table, oblivious to the fact Law had just witnessed the whole thing.

You heard Law say something like stupid cunt and turned around to see him glaring at the woman.

You almost started sobbing out of relief to see him. Law stared back at you with a relaxed smile and calmly asked, “so are we gonna go have sex?”

Laughing uncontrollably, you reply, “hell yes.”

Smiling like idiots, you walk back to the ship hand in hand.

༚༅༚˳✿˳༚༅༚

A/N: ok so I was gonna include kid but my tumblr is glitching where every time I save the draft it deletes his part😭😭

[sweetpeaches666]

(Can we do some mini roleplay of the beginning in married sed au that takes place after the wedding? Basically of how her in laws would harass and bully her)

*in married sed au, it has been a week after the wedding. Nane and sed has a chamber of their own that they share. They have been in abit of awkward stage still while trying to get to know each other*

*sed wants to go in case zs’skyer needs him for something, but his dad and grandma want him to stay to bond with his new wife*

(Sure)

(The morning after the wedding, Sed and Nane are with the rest of the royal family eating breakfast outside. There are several tables with royal members either eating and chatting with each other.)

Amun: So, son, now that you're a married man, you should start thinking about your future now she's part of it. Papa is here to give you advice.

Sed: Shut up, old man.

Amun: Great. Here's how to keep your wife happy...

(Meanwhile, Nane with Hedeter at the buffet table.)

[redflagshipwriter]

Reassembly 6

Masterpost is here.

Peter woke up on the library sofa that he was beginning to think of as his and hefted his bag over his shoulder.

He was doing okay. Really, he was fine. Considering that he was a minor with no resources or adults to help him, his life wasn't so bad.

Last night he'd gone to the gym early and thought about washing his dirty clothes in the shower. He hadn't, but he figured he would have to eventually. He could wear everything at least twice before it was an issue, right?

He chewed on that thought on his way to get breakfast. Today's hotel buffet had boiled eggs, which was new and exciting hotel fare. He made buttery whole grain toast and tried to calculate how many calories he was probably getting on this breakfast buffet lifestyle. ….on the good buffet days 1000 per day, at least.

There was no chance that it was enough to fuel Spider-Man. He had whole fat milk and juice to bulk it up, instead of water, but he knew it really wasn't enough.

‘Maybe I should be going to two buffets per day. They'd notice if I took a day's worth of meals from any one place, but they're open for hours.’

This place was one of the ones that had little plastic tubs of peanut butter with the peel off lid. With a guilty look over at the inattentive desk worker, Peter pocketed a couple for a snack later in the day. The only other non-refrigerated thing that looked small enough to pocket were rolls, and there weren't a ton of those. He took one.

He still had most of the cash from the wallet, but the idea of spending it seemed like a bad one. He might need it a lot more in the future.

‘I should look into food banks?’ That seemed right. There'd been a time after Uncle Ben died that Aunt May had gotten help that way.

Hopefully not for long. Maybe that potential client would hire him today. And them-

….how would they pay him? Peter put his face in his hands and breathed into his fingers for a bit. He didn't have a bank account. Could he open a bank account using only his birth certificate? Probably not! He definitely needed to figure out the social security number thing. Fast.

Peter didn't cry but it was a close thing. It was just… it was all so overwhelming. Nothing was just easy. He couldn't even just work and get paid because there were a billion steps needed before you could get money you'd earned.

Grimly, he wondered if there was something else. There was probably a way to get paid under the table, same day. Manual labor? Some kind of bottom barrel criminal stuff like smuggling or whatever it was people did with drugs?

He wouldn't mind the manual labor, except that it would be a very big problem for his under-fueled metabolism. But he probably had to choose hunger over small time crime. Didn't he? Peter bit his lip and wondered what Aunt May would say. She'd never broken the law, he was pretty sure. But she was a huge proponent of children getting to eat. Maybe she'd forgive him.

That was probably all beside the point. Peter didn’t know how to do any of that. He couldn’t survive by doing crime if he tried. He was kind of relieved to dismiss the idea that way.

‘School really might be my way out,’ Peter thought longingly. ‘If I get a scholarship and housing, that’s a ton of my problems solved right there. I’d be able to get a legit job a lot easier with an address and maybe a student ID.’

That was a longer term plan, then. For now, he had to figure out how to eat until that panned out.

Unbidden, he remembered Kon’s unused kitchen and endless credit cards.

Peter instantly felt a deep well of shame. He wasn’t going to use Kon like that. He wasn’t befriending Kon to benefit. That would be majorly messed up.

He was really looking forward to their planned hangout today, though. He didn’t feel guilty at the thought that he’d probably get to eat there if he cooked. That was normal, that was the kind of thing that friends did. It would be weirder to invite him over and not eat together.

They hadn’t exactly picked a time. Peter figured he would kill time until the library opened at 10, check his email, maybe study a little, and then head over. He didn’t want to go over there so early that Kon fed him both lunch and dinner. It had been fine last time, but it would be tacky to orchestrate that on purpose.

Social Security numbers. Peter mentally reframed the day’s mission to that. He’d check the email, sure, but rather than studying coding he was going to figure out how to get a social security number.

Well. Two. One for his real name, and one for his office workersona.

Peter cleared out of the hotel lobby when he heard an employee start to move around in the office behind the desk. He went to another hotel, got a piece of toast, fruit, and coffee, and then killed time by walking around for a couple of hours.

He wound through the morning crowds with an easy grace and enjoyed the pretense that he was one of them, a regular guy headed to work or something. It felt good to be lost in a crowd and have absolutely no one look at him like he was sticking out. He was having a terrible time but honestly, for a homeless jobless teenager, he was doing a really good job. He didn’t look weird or smell bad, and he’d figured out at least a short term survival strategy and a long term plan that he was working towards.

Oh. Peter felt a twist in his gut. He didn’t stop walking but he felt guilty about it. He probably shouldn’t be mindlessly burning energy by walking around, not when he was eating maybe half of what an average human should eat per day. Mr. Stark had put his ideal intake around 3500 calories, more if he was active. He had a lot of muscle that he really didn’t want his body to cannibalize for fuel.

…There were still a couple hours until the library opened. Peter really, really wished he at least had a library card. If he’d been able to take out a book he could sit on a bench somewhere and kill time without looking too weird. He could even go to a diner and get like, a one dollar black coffee and hang out. Since this was a fantasy, he went ahead and mentally added a cinnamon roll to the imaginary order. Wow, luxury!

Peter laughed to himself. No one looked at him, because this was New York City and a kid laughing on the sidewalk was banal.

It was a weird little goal, but it made him smile. He’d fix his life. He’d have a legal identity, and a place to sleep, and be able to go to school and work. When he got to that point he’d be able to go to a restaurant and order a cinnamon roll and not worry about anything, except how he was going to get back to his universe or whatever. You know, just the normal concerns, not survival.

He killed time in a park, watching ducks bob around and groom each other. The sunshine did something for his mood. When he felt it had been long enough he went to the library and followed through on his plan. He didn’t have any emails yet, except a notification from the job site saying that employers were looking at his profile and he could see who, for a nominal fee!

Peter deleted the email, disgruntled. Seemed kinda predatory.

He went on to learn about the social security system. Apparently they were assigned randomly, and there were multiple physical addresses that issued cards. There were more of them than he’d expected. He found one in a 3rd floor address nearby that was open from 7am to 4 pm and figured out how to get there and what the building looked like. Then he did more reading, brow furrowed, trying to figure out what to do.

It might be more secure to make it look like he was an immigrant who got a social security number assigned as an adult. If he claimed to be from out of the country, then it would be harder to research where he supposedly came from.

On the other hand, he didn’t want to lose his identity as a New Yorker. That was important to him. Peter bit his lower lip and thought it over.

Actually. You didn’t have to be born in the states to be a real New Yorker. He made up imaginary back stories for both of his IDs. The worksona was a born citizen, because Peter didn’t think that was likely to get looked into much. Since that person didn’t really exist, he was going to abandon it as soon as he didn’t need it.

His real ID for the universe was going to be from overseas. He decided that he’d been born in… Moldova.

Peter took a moment to look up Moldova to be sure it still existed in this universe. It did, and it seemed about the same. No travel restrictions to the United States, but not much economic power. It was not a common place to come from, but that fit his purposes. He didn’t want someone to ask why he didn’t speak whatever his supposed native language was.

…Peter made a mental note to look up language resources. Even if he’d supposedly emigrated at a young age, it would be more convincing if he knew at least a little. And it would be a good way to spend some time.

Huh. That was an idea. He probably couldn’t take books out of the library, but he could get a notebook and a pencil for like, 2 dollars, and take notes here. Then he’d have something to study in the hours he was outside with nothing to do. He’d look a lot less weird just sitting around if he looked like a student.

He took a minute to look up their flag and a few trivia points. Then Peter called it good enough for now and started off towards Kon’s apartment.

It would be a lie to say that it was convenient. It could have been worse, but it was far enough that Peter would have used the subway if he had the money to spend.

…He made a note to look into subway hopping. That wasn’t a real crime. It shouldn’t cost anything to use public transportation, it was literally built for public use. But right now, on the way to see a friend, seemed like a bad time to possibly get held up for a misdemeanor.

So he walked. It took him 40 minutes to get to the apartment block. He ducked into a dollar store that he passed on the way to get the notebook and pencil he had decided on, feeling good about it. His stomach grumbled when he passed the cooler with sandwiches and drinks. He ignored it as best as he could and directed his gaze elsewhere. It was easier to be hungry when there wasn’t food nearby.

Peter knocked on the door with his knuckles.

The door opened before he could call out. Kon grinned down at him and then whooshed back to let him in.

“Thanks,” he said. “Have a good day so far?”

Kon shrugged. The light caught on the metal spikes on his jacket with the movement. He turned around and walked ahead of Peter. “I was out of town ‘til this morning, sleepover with some friends,” he said.

Somehow the sight of his absurd muscles peeking out the mesh window startled a cough out of Peter, even though he’d been there when Kon modified the jacket.

“How about you?”

Peter’s brain took a moment to come online. “Uh, I was at the library this morning,” he said. At the weird look Kon gave him, he shrugged self consciously and stuffed his hands in his pockets. “I’m looking into college stuff,” he justified. That was really normal.

“...College, huh.” Now Kon looked uncomfortable. “You must be smart.”

Peter’s face burnt red. “In some ways,” he dodged. “Are you gonna go?”

Kon blinked at him. “I mean….” He gestured at himself with one hand. “I’m not exactly the type, am I?”

“Because you’re hot?” Peter asked, confused. What else was that gesture at his pecs supposed to illustrate?

They stared at each other. Then Kon broke out into snickers. “Because I’m not that smart,” Kon said, like it was a fact of life. “It’s just not for me.”

Kon was laughing, but Peter felt… he felt kind of angry, actually. “Who told you that?” he demanded. He curled his hands into fists in his pockets. “Why don’t you think you’re smart? Eff that. You could go to college. Maybe you should go with me,” he added impulsively. He could help Kon figure it out. Honestly, Kon probably needed help if his parents weren’t talking to him about school or a job.

“Where are you going?” Kon asked. He cocked his head to the side.

Ah. Well. “I’m not very far in the process yet, but I was thinking about Gotham U for engineering,” Peter admitted.

Kon started laughing for real. “Gotham,” he gasped. “Gotham? Me, in Gotham?”

Peter felt his shoulders hunch up. “They have a good program,” he said stiffly. He hadn’t thought Kon would laugh at him. His throat felt tight. He took a step backwards without thinking about it. Maybe this was a mistake.

Somehow Kon tuned into his mood even without looking. He held up a hand, flustered through the remnants of his snickers. “No– no, I mean, I have a friend in Gotham,” he said. “I didn’t expect you to bring that up as a possibility.”

Oh. The stiffness in his shoulders relaxed, just a bit.

“Maybe I should go,” Kon mused. “And surprise him. That would be really funny.”

Peter shrugged.

[applesaucesims]

After the ceremony, the party made their way into the old animal shed that had been made up for the wedding to seat all the guests for the reception. As a welcome, tea was served to the adults, accompanied by some freshly baked macarons for all tables.

Despite the sweet treats, the children's table was still overcome with boredom, especially due to the awkwardness of sitting together with the cousin-in-laws they had only just met. It was sort of understood that Louis was going to have an eye over them, due to his age, but he would rather have been anywhere else than look after the grumpy girls and toddler around his table.

While most adults were sat with their family, Judy had decided to stay with her nursing school friends, catching up with whatever drama was going on with any former classmates they were still keeping in touch with.

As teacups were starting to empty, Judy stood up from her chair to uncover the food that was waiting on a buffet table. Preferring a private conversation over one in the bigger group, Niall decided to follow his sister into the small side room, as soon as he noticed the movement in the corner of his eye. Good wishes for her marriage were in order, and this was as good a time is it got.

Niall awkwardly stood behind his sister, as she was uncovering the last of the plates, but she quickly turned to him, once he made his presence known. After all these years, the two were still very close, and Judy happily pulled her brother into a hug to thank him for his well-wishes.

Judy wanted to use the opportunity to catch up, too, and Niall made use of it, as he started rambling on about his life as a father of four and the subsequent worries. Of course, Judy did not mind listening to her brother's woes. She had really been doing it ever since they were children. And most of all, she was always there to give him advice as much as she could, or at least try to cheer him up.

In fact, with her help, a sincere smile of hope started growing on Niall's face. There was always room for improvement, and any step towards it would get him closer to it, too, as Judy made sure to remind him.

[TRANSCRIPT]

Judy: "I've gotta go check on the entrées, girls. Don't dig up gossip without me!"

Niall: "Excuse me, I'll just go give Judy my proper congrats."

...

Niall: *clears throat* "I haven't had the chance, yet, but... Congratulations on your union!"

Judy: "Oh, don't worry about it. I saw your happy tears! Now come and give your sister a hug!"

Niall: *laughs* "Of course, Jude."

Judy: "Enough about me, starting to get tired of that. How are you doing?"

Niall: "Well, I guess things are going better. Bonding with the children comes a lot easier to me now. Though Emma's much closer with them than I am. I just don't see them as often as she does. And I'm not sure I can ever properly repair things with Louis. I wasn't the best father to him, though I try to be."

Judy: "Hey, it's gonna be alright, Ni. Trying is already a big step forward. And you've not taken a look at the champagne, yet, so there's that."

Judy: "You know I'm proud of you, right?"

Niall: "I appreciate it."

[prettyyyathieee]

✧˖°.Reo Mikage is your reckless love✧˖°.

Warnings ⚠️: Cheating! Toxic love! Angst! Very Detailed...Snu but without the actual snu. Some curse words as well.

Female reader x Reo Mikage

A/n : Call me stupid but there's something about toxic loves I literally cannot get over.

I literally hurt myself writing this, so I hope it hurts you guys more. KJZXNCVSDHFA I'm kidding. But yeah, I'm kinda proud of this one.

What they didn’t tell you about rich people is they all have their own “rich people” bubble. It’s that special connection or network wherein just by being part of it you could access penthouses for free, get jobs at well-known companies for free, or just simply be gifted free expensive things whenever you show your face.

·˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳Dating Reo Mikage was…magical

You and Reo Mikage were part of the same bubble. Forced into it. After all, having a hundred acre “house” with a couple more “houses' ' on it and several generations of inheritance that will eventually fall on your lap without you breaking a sweat or proving something means connection with only the wealthiest, at least nearly wealthy in your status.

You were always stuck in your own little lavish bubble, protected by your overbearing daddy. It wasn’t that you were taking your privilege as something that you rightfully owned, it was just that you were, in the broadest sense, unaware.

Unlike Reo Mikage, who was the first to show the pretty rich girl how privileged she was. It was hypocritical of him to say you were “privileged” when perhaps his family may even be richer than yours.

Be that as it may, it was Reo Mikage who showed you the real world or shall I say, the fun parts of the lesser side of the city. The arcade where your father would have an aneurysm if he caught you talking to the ‘smoking hoodlums’ as he called them, the fast food restaurants you could run into and cause a scene at 3 am, and of course, the parking lots where you almost had a near-death experience after chasing one of his soccer balls without paying attention to your surroundings. 

·˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳Dating Reo Mikage was…all sorts of new experiences

Family businesses turn into lucrative opportunities. Just like how the gatherings of business launches turn into talks of new investments and piles of master-crafted, hand-me-downs of gold jewelry.

That was your life. Until Mikage Reo turned it upside down and set it aflame by tarnishing yours and his reputation. 

You might be thinking of fancy candle-lit dinners or masquerade ball dates but no. Unlike his polished facade or his way of hiding his weaknesses like an innate businessman, Mikage Reo was not that kind of person when he was with you. He wasn’t one for showing you extravagance because he knew it would not phase you. 

No, with you, Reo Mikage did not feel the need to boast or be competitive at all. He didn’t feel unguarded or upstaged because you were the exact opposite of him. Amazement was readable in your eyes whenever he showed you the ways to have fun without having to involve money– which was all you were really used to. (Although he did a little too much by showing you how to eat and run)

And of course, it was a very interesting experience getting to know your future sister-in-law’s fiance.

·˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳Dating Reo Mikage was…thrilling

Aside from the “dates” you both indulged yourself in, as much as it shames you to say it there was something about doing the “wrong” things that made it so fun. It’s not like it was weighing on your conscience that much either. You know for a fact every other rich person in your family’s country club had a secret lover behind their partner’s back. You’d also bet all of your family's bank account combined that your very own fiance had a secret lover as well.

He hid him or her so well and so carefully that you pitied him because here you were, on the Mikage heir’s lap in an abandoned music room feeding each other expensive cocktail shrimp that you stole from the buffet table.

You always found yourself at inconvenient places at times like this. Whether it be a charity party or a business party, whenever you and reo were in the same building, not even responsibility could hold either of you from hiding yourselves in each other’s arms.

·˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳Dating Reo Mikage was…romantic in a sense

I say in a sense because what exactly is romantic in secretly hooking up with your future sister-in-law’s fiance? Both of your family’s had bad blood because of some petty rivalry that occured even before your parent’s time. So as children, you both weren’t allowed to even go near each other. They only found truce in your fiance’s family, and that did not end well. Not that they need to know

But yes, your fiance’s sister is a great woman. She was smart, pretty and had a good family name. That was all she was to Reo however, a name. Just another name in the endless spiral of rich people to build connections with.

With you however, Reo really did feel something. Unlike his fiance you were responsive, actually appreciative of his efforts. Although his efforts to his fiance were simply bouquets of expensive roses and champagne while his efforts to you were time and unreplicable memories. Unlike his fiance you weren’t cold. The attention he craved, the compliments he was starved of and the rawness of being in love, nothing could rival it for him, not even soccer. And of course, unlike his fiance, you were a girl he could corrupt. And oh how he loved that.

·˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳Dating Reo Mikage was…what stripped you from your innocence

‘Reo, Reo, Reo’ It was all him in your mind. 

The way he ‘innocently’ caressed your exposed legs under the table and under your dress. The way his eyes would slowly dart from your eyes to your lips, to your neck to your shoulders, traveling lower and lower. 

It was Reo you held at night, not your fiance. It was Reo you share kisses with all of your passion combined, not your fiance. It was Reo that taught you what desire truly is. Reo showed you things nobody could and would never dare to. 

Truly, Reo loved the innocence slowly being poured out of your eyes for him to drink. And he enjoyed every drop of it. There was just something in the way you felt around him. So right, so wrong and so real.

He was sure nothing could ever satisfy him ever again.

·˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳Dating Reo Mikage was…exhausting

It was exhausting having to hide your relationship from everyone, and that includes every person you trust because your relationship with Reo would surely be the downfall of both your families. It was hard but only because Reo was passionate about you.

Reo loved touching you, he couldn’t resist it. His excuse would always be “you’re just too irresistible” saying it with a pout you could do no more to refuse his advances. It was nerve-wracking at first. However, after enough time it became weird going a day without spending at least an hour with skin-to-skin contact. And so came the days where Reo wanted to occupy all of your time and vice versa. 

Let’s get this straight though, being with him wasn’t exhausting, avoiding him was. 

Trying to act like you both didn’t know each other even when you stare at each other from across the room was exhausting. Hiding behind thick clothing with a mask around your face was exhausting. Trying not to show each other off to the world was exhausting. Having to be careful of all your actions was exhausting. But most of all…

Having another woman claim him was exhausting.

·˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳Dating Reo Mikage was…degrading

They knew. You didn’t know how but they all knew. You could see it from their eyes. Even with Reo convincing you they didn’t have a clue, you knew they knew. Your parents knew, evidenced by their disappointed stare. His teammates knew, given by their curious stares. Heck- even the maids knew as evidenced by their snickering whenever they thought you weren’t there, behind their back. 

Maybe you were overthinking, it wasn’t you they were staring at, it wasn’t you they were laughing at. You tried to convince yourself, just like Reo did. But alas, as he was blind and you were not. At least, not after someone made you realize.

Her long slender hand grasped upon your shoulder, the engagement ring on placed upon her fourth finger glared at you. Her languid eyes looking directly into your shaken ones. There you saw it, evidence. 

Apathy has never felt so horrifying. 

·˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳Dating Reo Mikage was…confusing

No amount of begging could get your parents to absolve your future marriage, even after your temper tantrums and threats to hurt yourself. They simply locked you away in your room and had your maids care for you, all while making sure you did not have any means to contact Reo.

Although, when time finally came to let you out of house arrest the news you were greeted with made you question your whole relationship.

Because while you were suffering, rotting away in your room, Reo left for some soccer program. 

·˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳Dating Reo Mikage was…wrong

You knew that from the very first day you understood his advances. Yet as Eve had realized, nothing was sweeter than eating the fruit of the devil. And your devil came in the form of Reo Mikage.

It wasn’t all his fault. Sure, he made you think nothing of your whole relationship was wrong because it was born out of love. Sure, he made you endure all sorts of degrading stares and disgusted sneers all while he built his career in soccer. 

But you knew he really did love you. Because no one else ever knew what you knew.

Nobody, but you, would ever know about the semi-huge part of the reason he joined blue lock was because he wanted to end your suffering. To cut off the evil vines he was slowly suffocating you with.

And nobody but you knew about the letters he wrote to you everyday while in blue lock, delivered by a boy named “Nagi Seishiro”.

·˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳Dating Reo Mikage was…the one experience you will never regret.

You don’t think you’d ever get over him. Not when your news feed was full of his existence for the first few years. He had a knack for soccer, something you wish also didn’t apply to you.

They say grief is the badge of honor for past loves, a sign you’ve loved well but lost. What do we make of longing then? A sign you’ve loved wrongly? It sure felt like that.

Your heart still aches more than a few years later. You would readily admit that you still want Reo but you would never do that to yourself once more.

You’d never heal from him, true enough, however, it was the same for him. Which made it bearable for you, as awful as that sounds.

Reo could never ever rid himself of loving you, not even after the thousands of beautiful girls the world could offer him. Nobody could ever compare to you, nobody could ever be as fit for him as you.

“I see, I see. This next question is for Mr. Reo Mikage” The reporter asked, which caused Reo to stop pestering Nagi and to turn to the audience with a wide smile on his face.

It was a female reporter, a pretty one at that. He gave her a flirtatious wink as she blushed and hid her face behind her bulky mic which prompted a bunch of hoots and teasings from his teammates.

The reporter cleared her throat before she spoke to the mic. “Ehem, thank you for the opportunity-”

“The honor’s all mine, pretty girl” Reo smirked before biting his lip and scrunching his face from the laughs that erupted and the hands hitting his back.

The reporter squealed for a bit before gathering herself together by taking a few deep breaths.

“Um…so…uh” She stuttered. Nodding graciously at Reo’s beckoning face.

“This pertains to your…uh let’s say ritual? Fans have noticed that before each and every game you kiss the bracelet on your wrist…does it have a reason or perhaps a story?” She asked Reo so sweetly that some of the blue lock guys blushed. But those who were close to Reo winced. 

Everybody could feel the room turn a little colder as the mentioned player’s smile dropped. The silence only lasted a couple of seconds before Reo, ever the professional business heir, fixed his face instantly making others wonder if what they saw was real.

“It’s personal. Next question.” He spoke to the mic before giving it to the teammate next to him. He was out for the whole interview after that. Not focused nor attentive. Everybody could see that the question may have put him in a tight spot.

Before it was even over, Reo stood up, much to the worry of many, then stormed out without so much as a ‘goodbye’. There in the hallways, Reo buried his hands across his folded arms. He honestly thought everything was in place now, you out of his, out of shame and misery.

Yet as soon as somebody mentions that godforsaken bracelet, he can’t think straight.

“Y/n…What the hell am I supposed to do?” He asked the air, though if you asked him, he’d say he was asking what’s left of you, the ghost of you. He caressed his bracelet with his thumb before pressing a kiss to it. After all, it’s one of the things you left him before he ghosted you.