#I’m gonna pause buying until I’ve finished all these

[starburstsobsessions]

Rangers apprentice is weird man. Like the first four books I flew through SO fucking fast because they were truly this amazing well written exciting great experience trying and aspiring to be something better. Then . Book 5. So much changes. I’ve just got things on my mind

Book 5. Everything changed here.

Rangers apprentice book 1-4 actively was showing a fictional “fantasy historical” misogynistic society and showing how the main women are dealing with that and how they are persevering and are able to aim for high status outside of just royalty. The women are high profile diplomats and go on their own missions and in due time save the male protagonists (who are shown to respect them about as much as a ya boy targeted fantasy guy is going to). Evanlyn literally rescues will from death and lives in the worst elements thus far for months ALONE and having to take care of will and his survival ALONE. She does that! She sneaks on a ship to gain information ALONE she even orders the archer line !!! and she is shown to be truly powerful.

Lady Pauline and Alyss are both powerful diplomats with cunning words and are displayed as the highest of their order. They both are revered and put on a pedestal by the protagonists and are just as well powerful and treated as such.

and. And then book 5. It’s like a whole different series after book 5.

The writing changes. The characters change. The way background characters are portrayed changes. It isn’t heartwarming anymore.

Everything changes in 5-6, which should be a good thing but it isn’t. The characters respect is dropped. Will becomes some kind of instant disrespectful ladykiller as opposed to who he was. He’s a little bitch! Alyss gets kidnapped and mind controlled instantly and her role is merely damsel in distress who is also causing friction between Will and other women. What???? Huh??? It irked me so bad!

Book 7? Hoo boy. It’s not a fan fav. It started as if it was going to be great! And then it . Wasn’t. Were my expectations too high? A prequel was definitely the right idea but there was also ... so many wrong ideas it was just kinda... ehhhhhhhhhh idkkkkk

book 8 was WELL written again (though DEF with flaws, once again with the female characters) and it got my hopes up once again 😳 it was thrilling and the lines were powerful and the characters felt right again. That seemed like the downfall though.

book 9 was. Extremely boring. Pointless even. It had no real agenda. Tennyson could easily have been defeated at the end of book 8 and it would have been SO much more satisfying. Book 9 was genuinely pointless filler chock full of sad repeated jokes and not much else. What even was book 9???? Like it had a few fun things that could have been great. If it weren’t all thrown together for a page count.

I’m not done with book 10, and I’ve been dealing with a lot lately so it’s been hard to focus when I have been reading, but... it def isn’t there either. There’s no heart there’s no merit. More looping bad jokes and travel filler while the woman and suddenly being demoted out of their positions by like, Halt.

and like. Idk what everyone else thinks it just kinda bothers me. I bought them all after reading 4 because I went WOW this series is AMAZING I’m IN LOVE and I do have a ton of fun with it, I just wish things were different. That’s why fanfic exists I guess 🧍 ANYWAY don’t come after me rangers apprentice fandom I’m right!!!!

[bwabys-scenarios]

After months of Killua making fun of Kurapika for crushing on you, he accidentally calls you “mom” in front of the group. Finally, Kurapika has SOME sort of ammo against him. It doesn’t seem to work for long though, because you laugh it off, honored that he sees you as a mother figure. And honestly, it makes Killua feel a lot better about going back to picking on Kurapika, especially after Gon accidentally calls you mom too.

“Hahah you like (name)”

“Oh, you mean your mom?”

“Nice try, that’s not gonna work anymore. Gon called her mom by accident yesterday, so it’s not THAT out of place. Plus she was happy about it.”

“You got over that quickly.”

“Yeah, too bad you can’t get over your crush as quickly as I got over the mom embarrassment”

When the group meets up to do anything fun, you’re the one that organizes it. Whether that be for a movie, a trip to the zoo, or even a vacation to the beach, you’re sending them all a list of what they need to pack and how much money they’ll need to bring to cover their tickets and food.

At least, you do that for the adults. For the kids, they stay with you so often that you have two suitcases full of their clothes and a list of the products they use.

Killua can’t stand mint tooth paste, so you buy him the bubblegum flavored kind instead. Gon is picky about what shampoo he uses, so you make sure that you get the scentless kind.

When you arrive at the beach with the boys in tow, you already LOOK like a mom. You’re carrying an umbrella and big bag full of towels and are yelling at them to put on sunscreen. Especially Killua, with his pasty ass.

He tries to run away from you, but Gon helps you catch him.

He grumbles as you cover him in sunscreen, calling Gon a traitor. As you do this, Kurapika and Leorio show up, carrying the ice chest full of drinks and fruit you’d packed before you left.

“Hello (Name). I see you’ve managed to catch Killua.”

You giggle. “With Gon’s help.”

Killua turns back, his eyes narrowing.

“Mom, don’t tell h-“

He pauses.

They all pause, everyone except you.

“Hmm? Don’t tell him what?”

Killua literally looks like a fish gasping for air, his face red and barely able to breathe.

“I-you-“

He runs off, dragging Gon behind him as they rush into the water. You can see Gon ask Killua something, the latter responding by throwing him into the depths.

Kurapika lets out a snicker, storing this information for later. “So you’re mom now?”

You shrug, standing up and pulling your dress off to reveal a two piece. His teasing is quieted when you drop your dress onto the ground and stretch.

“I’ve been called mom before, by a lot of people. It’s really not a big deal.”

You hand Kurapika the bottle of sunscreen. “You two make sure you put some on, alright sweetheart?”

You took off for the water. “I’m coming, boys, make some room!”

Kurapika could understand why he called you mom, but that doesn’t mean he would let Killua slide that easily.

As you and Leorio play 1v1 volleyball on the beach, Kurapika and Killua sit next to each other.

Killua KNOWS what Kurapika is going to say. He already knows, yet he can’t get up until you come back and reapply his sunscreen.

“I didn’t know you were a mamas boy, Killua.”

The white haired boy shoots him a glare, his cheeks pink. “Shut up.”

“Why? Am I not stating a fact?”

Killua huffs. He watches as Gon joins your team, saying Leorio was being to hard on you. He wants to join, anything to get away from Kurapika’s smug smirk.

“Missing your mom right now?”

Killua throws sand into his face. This results in the two fighting, getting your dress and towels covered in sand.

When you finish your game, you come back to see the two glaring at each other, wet sand clinging to them as they attempted to clean off the towel.

“I KNOW you two didn’t get sand on my dress.”

You stand before them, your arms crossed over your chest. Right now, you’re giving them the angry mom look, and even Kurapika feels a little scared.

“He started it mom! I didn’t e-“

Killua groaned loudly and slapped a hand over his face. He said it AGAIN.

“I’m sorry I-“

You sigh and pat his head. “Don’t be sorry, I don’t mind you calling me mom. I’m honored even.”

You smile at him and brush the sand off of your stuff.

“Let’s eat, you’re both probably just hangry!”

———————

“Hi mom!”

Gon waves at you from across the store, not even realizing what he’d called you. Killua startles next to him, grabbing his shoulder.

“Gon, you just called her mom.”

Gon slaps a hand over his mouth. “Oh.”

“I told you I don’t mind.”

You appear in front of them, the boys instantly taking the shopping bags out of your hands. “Aww, my sweet boys. I can carry them myself, you know.”

Gon shakes his head. “Aunt Mito said men shouldn’t let a lady carry stuff all by herself!”

“… they’re too heavy for you.”

You laugh and ruffle their hair. “Alright, alright. Let’s go home.”

Killua follows behind you. Home. Your house was home to him, more than the place he’d been born and raised was. You never placed expectations on him, you allowed him to be the kid he was. Although it was a bit annoying when you were too overprotective, he knew it came from a place of care, and he was okay with being babied if it was you.

You really were his mom, weren’t you?

“(Name)?”

You hum in response, peeking at Killua.

“Is… is it really okay if I… call you mom?”

“Yeah, why wouldn’t it be? You’re both basically my kids already. Especially with how much you make me worry.”

You rub your face. “Look, I’m getting wrinkles.”

The two laugh, catching up to walk on each side of you.

“Alright, alright. Sorry… mom.”

You smile and ruffle his hair. “It’s okay.”

—————

You get home and ask for them to get the groceries put up while you go to shower.

Kurapika gets home shortly after, shrugging off his coat and placing it on the coat hanger.

He looks into the kitchen to see Gon and Killua sorting through the groceries, the two sneaking a few pieces of the candy you’d bought as they did.

“Your girlfriend is in the shower.”

Kurapika takes a second to process what Killua said before snapping back. “You mean your mom?”

“Kurapika, you sh-“ Gon is interrupted by Killua crossing his arms and blowing a raspberry at Kurapika.

“She said I can call her mom if I want. But you can’t call her your girlfriend, can you?”

The two stare at him in shock. Kurapika can’t speak, his eyes and face turning red.

“You little-“

You step out of the bathroom in one of Kurapika’s shirts and a pair of shorts. “Oh, Kurapika, you’re home!”

You run up to him and give him a big hug, placing a kiss on his cheek. “Did your mission go well?”

Kurapika was already reeling from Killua’s words, and now he was the brightest shade of red he’d ever been. Did you just… kiss his cheek? His cheek? HIS? And you’re… wearing his shirt. Oh god.

“I-um it’s-“

Killua snickers from his seat on the counter. “Who’s the mamas boy now?”

The two start fighting, you confused.

“What does he mean by that?”

Gon shrugs. “Dunno. You should probably just let them fight it out though.”

You pout, but he’s probably right. If you stepped in, they’d just be passively aggressive to each other all night, and you didn’t want that.

“If you two are going to fight at least do it outside, I have breakable knickknacks.”

[lillythecoolest]

Veneer x Reader In an Indie Band!

Warnings: None

Who would’ve guessed, Veneer, The pop singer that could buy 3 mansions, he’s a fan of your indie band? Yep! Even he doesn’t know how he found you, but the minute he heard you he knew he needed every single album. And of course, you’re his favorite member, your voice, your style, even the way you look in the music videos, he KNOWS he’s fallen. HARD. But he’d never go to a concert! He knows what Velvet would do.

He’d freak out if he knew you felt the same. You weren’t a big fan of pop at all, the bright colors and loud energy made your head hurt. But Veneer…He was different. His voice made your head woozy. Your members know how you feel, teasing and prodding at you to go to a concert! But you could never. He’d hate an indie artist, wouldn’t he?

“Cmon y/n, him and Velvet having a show next month at the rage dome! They actually need an opening artist, could we please?” Your member, Bea asked. “But…They’re probably looking for a pop artist. Do we look like pop?” You asked. “But they’ll even sell our albums there dude! I’m sure some people there would like us. Maybe even Veneer.” Your other member, Ezra told you. They held up the audition papers. “ACCEPTING ANY GENRE!” It wrote out in big letters. “I’ll…Let me think about it, okay?” You take the papers and walk back to your room, then you look at the picture of Veneer.

“N-Next!” Crimp called from the audition room. “Alright dude, you can do this! Just don’t look at Veneer. Or listen to his voice. Or even breathe.” Ezra said. “Get serious! It’s okay Y/N, we’ll do fine.” Bea says, patting you on the back. “I…I don’t want to do fine, I want to be the opening act.” you smiled. “That’s the spirit!” They both yelled. “Next!” Crimp called again. You all walk out and greet Velvet, then turn to Veneer, with his jaw to the floor. “Ohmygod, you’re here! I’ve loved your band for the longest time probably since it started!” He said. You pause, staring into nothingness. “YOU KNOW US!? DUUUDE, SICK! Just wait until your hear about Y/N-” Ezra continues. You look over at Velvet, who is visibly mad. After everything calms down, you finally start your song, giving it your best as the lead singer.

(just think sex bob omb /j)

Once you finish, you look down at your feet, then wipe the sweat of both nervousness and how hard you sang off your forehead. You finally look up at Veneer, who’s jaw was somehow lower then before. Then Velvet, who looked pleasingly surprised. “How was it?” Bea asked, looking pretty nervous, unlike Ezra, who had that stupid smile still on his face. “Fine. Better than I thought, actually. But no guarantee.” Velvet replied, her cocky “famous” demeanor sort of gone. “NO GUARANTEE?!” Veneer screamed, and you swear you can see him blush. “They’re preforming, no question. See you tomorrow for practice!” Veneer said as he ran off. Velvet ran after him, leaving you two with their assistant, Crimp. “Oh goodness, I don’t have a time yet…Uh, tomorrow at 9:00 next morning?” She said. But the two also left you with no words. “I think he likes you dude…” Ezra said.

8:50 the next morning, you show up at the place they said, sitting outside on the curb. “Are you sure we can do this? It’s just overwhelming knowing how many people are gonna see us.” Bea said, tuning her guitar. “I feel ya dude, I broke a drumstick from practicing so hard last night” Ezra followed up with. Soon enough, Crimp pops out, welcoming you all in. “Hello my little superstarssss! We are NAWT waisting any time!” Velvet says, obviously putting on a fake persona. She points at Bea and Ezra, looking at them with a sweet look, almost too sweet. “Too the back room with me!” “What about… What about me?” You ask. “Oh- Uh, Velvs thought it would be good for us to train together since we know each other.” He replies, obviously flustered.

After a while on training, you two start to work on stage presence. “You have to make your audience feel the song, like what emotion it gives! Try moving in a way that the song makes you feel.” He says. The song you’ve picked is bittersweet, something that doesn’t go with pop AT ALL, but it’s so different people might like it. You close your eyes and sway a bit, and then start singing. You walk around a bit, then accidentally bump into Veneer. Your eyes shoot open, and then you see. You see how close you are. Veneer smiles, making it even worse. “You’re- You’re very pretty…” you blurt out, immediately jumping off of him and running out of the room, leaving Veneer by himself, probably overheating from the intensity.

After a month of training, you guys are finally ready to do the opening performance. “Don’t worry about ANYTHING, you’ll do fine!” Veneer says, zipping up the back of your stage outfit. When you turn around to face him, his eyes light up. “Y…You look great in that…” “1 minute til you’re on guys!” Crimp says, seeing you two. “Oh! I’m so sorry, I’ll uh…Let you two have your moment…” “You got this! Break a leg!” He says, suddenly kissing your cheek. You pause. This isn’t happening, is it? You see Veneer run off, and see your friends run on. “Read- Woah, are you okay? You’re flushed, are you nauseous?” Bea says. “Ya can’t be sick now dude, I didn’t waste a month for you to be sick.” Ezra follows up with. “It’s- It’s nothing, I- I’m fine.” You stumble around, finally balancing. You breathe in and walk out.

The music ends, and you look to the audience. They start cheering so loud you can’t even hear yourself think. But one thing you can hear is Veneers distinct scream. After everything is said and done, you meet Veneer at his house. “Listen, I-I know I shouldn’t have done that so fast, but I bottled the feeling up for so long I didn’t want it to affect my performance. But I should’ve been more concerned about you.” Veneer says. “Hey- no I get that. And also…I have something to give you.” You say. “Oh- Oh yeah? What?” He says, perking up as soon as you even mention a gift. You softly kiss him on the cheek, looking at him like he looked at you.

hello! sorry I’ve been gone for over a week, I’ve been sortve burnt out, gaining and dropping hobbies n stuff, so uh here’s this :3 consider it for me being gone and my 100 follower special even though I’m at 118 followers, tysm!🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷

[chaithetics]

yes yes yes i wanna see the barbie fic!!! i know im gonna love itttt -barbie anon

Porcelain and the Shark: Barbie Hosseinis

Pairing: Stewy Hosseini x f (Roy) reader

(reader has anxiety, no use of y/n, physical descriptions or other names but does have the nickname Porcelain/Porce - due to family viewing her that way not because of complexion)

Word count: 2.6K

Prompt: porce forcing stewy to take the day off to take her and the kids to see barbie… he buys the kids a new barbie toy each and buys porce some cute barbie merch… porce relates to barbie’s existential crisis…. and gets just a touch sad at the parts about mothers and their daughters… stew cheers her up by reminding her that she’s an incredible mom to the kids and she goes and sees oppenheimer with him the next day as a thank you. that’s all xo 🫶

Chapter/content warning: 18+ MINORS DNI, established relationship, wholesome fluff, existential crisis mention, some not great Roy dynamics are alluded to. Not beta read sorry!

Authors note: thank you so much for sending this through Nonnie and your patience, you're an angel! i really hope you enjoy this, please let me know what you think! There's a slight change, I actually don't think Stewy would be super into Oppenheimer for a few different reasons. I hope that's okay?! I hope you all enjoy this, I am sorry for the absence lately, enjoy and let me know what you think, I love engaging with you all via comments, reblogs, and asks! Live for them! Lots of love to all you tumblr hotties (you're all hotties) let's pretend the gif is a barbie reference lol.

********

You’re kneeling on the floor in Tillie’s room as you help your young daughter change into her outfit. It was cute but you hadn’t expected it to be so complicated to put on. Mainly because Tillie was so excited, wriggling and bouncing as she chatted, she couldn’t stay still for very long. After a couple of minutes you’d been able to finish up her outfit and kissed the top of her head as you finished putting her hair in the neat bun she’d asked for to match her new but beloved doll sitting next to her.

“Wow! You look amazing and you’re both matching! How cool!” You excitedly say to Tillie who giggles and nods.

“We’re both ready for space now!” Tillie exclaims as she grabs her astronaut Barbie doll.

“You can play with your toys now that you’re dressed, practice for space. I’m going to check on dad and Jonathan now, okay sweetie?” You place another kiss on top of her head and she nods, happily focusing on her toys again. It makes you chuckle how quickly she goes back to playing now that your interruption of dressing her is over.

You start to walk towards Jonathan’s room but pause when you hear Stewy’s voice coming from his home office, you think it’s odd that he’s in there as this was a day that he was meant to be completely offline from work and just for family. Changing the route to Jonathan’s room you walk to his office until you’re leaning against the door watching him. Stewy’s pacing back and fourth in his office as he continues his call with an earphone in. He looks at you and with a small smile before taking a sip from his morning cappuccino in a ridiculously tiny cup as he hums along to whatever is being said on the opposite end of the phone.

“Uh-huh, yeah, well yeah, we’ll just need to circle back to that later. Uh-huh, I’ve gotta go. Mmm, yeah, sure, bye.” He quickly ends the call, removing the earphone and placing it on his desk before turning to look at you as he carefully places his coffee cup down on the desk.

“You’re not in pink-” You start.

“Neither are you.” Stewy immediately quips back with a small teasing smile as he looks you up and down adoringly.

“Well no, I haven’t changed yet. I was getting the kids ready.”

“Okay, go get ready I’ll finish up whatever needs finishing up and then you can head out.” He says as he comes over giving you a kiss on the forehead.

“We head out.” You correct, emphasising the word as you’re already not a fan of the direction this was headed in.

“Honey…” Stewy says with a sigh and it’s clear that something has come up, he needs to cancel. The guilt is written all over his face like a ghost came up and tattooed it on as soon as you walked into the office.

“You promised.” You say rather bluntly. The work-life balance is important to you and after experiencing all that your childhood had to offer in terms of swinging between sheltered neglect and highly-criticised surveillance. You refuse the notion of having your children growing up without a father or experiencing the wonder and insult of what it’s like to have a father miss out on what’s meant to be memorable and special family days. You know Stewy isn’t like that, he’s just busy and he’s always there but you still can’t help but take it personally.

It almost feels like a childhood defense and you feel your lip quiver a little as you look at him, knowing he had promised this and now he was going to break the promise to you and your children.

“I know baby, but something’s come up at work and-” He continues with wide eyes, trying to diffuse the situation as he can see how upset it’s making you.

“I’m not happy about… I’m not happy about this Stew.” You admit quietly as you look down while leaning against the wall more.

“I know. I know. I’ll make it up to you and the kids, we’ll do something later on. I’ll buy them some more toys.” “You’re not becoming that father who uses money and presents to make it up to children.” You say softly.

“I won’t do that.” He chuckles and comes over to you and wraps his arms around you softly. “I love you and you’re so pretty, you know that right?” He presses a few soft kisses to your jaw and neck.

“You’ve said it before…” You whisper back, as he holds you in his arms.

“Mm… Good. I just wanted to remind you.” He whispers against your neck and you feel his breath and words tickle your neck.

“If you’re not coming, you’re the one who needs to break that news to their cute faces and you do owe them. And me.” You can’t help but sigh in his arms as you relax into him, finding comfort in his presence as you always do despite how you’re annoyed with him over this.

Stewy nods as he listens to your words, and caresses your back gently. “I’ll try…” He whispers, you know it’s less likely that he’ll actually end up working through the day and bailing on the much anticipated Hosseini family event of seeing the Barbie film with your young children.

Tillie then calls out for you and Stewy, you smile at him, squeezing his hand and walking with him, hand-in-hand into Tillie’s bedroom. Tillie jumps up when she sees her dearly loved parents walk into her bedroom and runs over with her doll. Some children had dinosaur phases, or princess phases but Tillie was one of those children who became obsessed with space as soon as her eyes could take in the moon and what it was. She had an astronaut Barbie in her hand which had become one of her most prized possessions since Stewy had recently brought it for her. It was in her hand at every playtime, bedtime, and seated next to her at each meal.

As Tillie jumps up to hug her parents, it is then that Stewy sees her outfit in full… Tillie is wearing an astronaut costume in pink. One that you’d spent a lot of time trying to find the right person to commission it and they had excelled. She was a cute little astronaut just as she wanted to be and it was perfectly in theme with the Barbie film that she was excited to see as well.

She ran over to her father and Stewy quickly picked her up, you could see his heart melting as he took in the sight of his precious daughter in her outfit, she looked adorable and Stewy loved how she was so young but already had dreams that were so out of this world.

Stewy swayed slightly while holding Matilda, he kissed the top of her head and smiled widely at her.

“Oh my God, look at you… this outfit is amazing….” Stewy said to Tillie with a smile. He pressed another kiss to her head and held her a bit tighter as he kept swaying with her. “Oh my…. Look at her! Look at her!” He said with the largest, most loving eyes to you and you couldn’t help but smile widely and nod. She was always cute and precious but this was an exceptionally cute look of Matilda’s. You also always appreciated seeing this moment between Stewy and Tillie, he was so in awe of her and she was in equal awe of her father as well. A polar opposite to what you and Shiv had known but it was what you wanted for your children, it was what every child deserved.

“How could you say no to that cutie, Stewy? You tease playfully, already seeing him mentally cave by her.

“I can’t… I can’t… I’ll make a call and then we’ll see Barbie, huh?” He says to Tillie and gives her a little nose bop which makes her giggle loudly and excitedly.

“Go change, dad Ken, not work Ken!” Tillie says with another giggle as she tries to boop her father on the nose in return. Stewy smirks and nods, kissing her forehead again as he swings her gently with a smile.

“What am I going to wear though? I need some pink, huh honey?” He asks Tillie and she smiles and nods.

“I brought you a pink turtleneck, it’s out in the room honey.” You say softly with a happy smile as you look at him, you couldn’t resist the chance to get him in theme and you always had a weak spot for Stewy in a turtleneck so this was just as much a treat for your family as it was for you. All just for different reasons.

“You’re a prize, babe. Thank you. Isn’t your mommy the best? I mean look at you and soon look at me and I’ll be just as cute huh?” Stewy kisses Tillie’s cheek and then puts her down and gives you a soft, loving, grateful kiss on the lips to say thank you for organizing that.

Stewy goes off to change and he looks so handsome in his pink turtleneck, you feel your cheeks immediately heat up as he comes back out. He kisses your cheek and whispers a sweet thank you.

************************

You, Stewy and your little Hosseinis all watch Barbie, everybody dressed up in theme in pink and looking like charming Barbies, Kens, and Allens. The children are all thoroughly engaged in the film and its bright visuals, there’s plenty of humor as well that’s sneaked in to appeal to adults which gets genuine laughs from you and Stewy.

You’re not quite surprised but you struggle for a moment as you feel quite touched, sensitive and yet vulnerable throughout several scenes of the film. This concept of identity, and having an identity that is separate from the men in your life, along with one that is separate to your identities as a wife, a mother, a sister, and a daughter. You can’t help but get teary at many of these scenes and think about what something like this means for your children, especially sweet Tillie, and the relationship between mothers and daughters. You love Tillie with all of your being, is that enough you wonder? It certainly wasn’t with your parents but that wasn’t the right love and you know it’s different with your children, you don’t let the thoughts in that your parents probably felt the same at some stage in. You’re already getting teary-eyed in this film, surrounded by those dearest to you, you don’t think you can quite handle an existential crisis right now.

Stewy notices your eyes becoming glassy with tears during these scenes and he snuggles a bit closer to you, pulling you into him more to gently kiss your cheek and squeeze your shoulder and hand. He caresses your arm gently from the first scene that brings you to tears and then throughout the rest of the picture.

“Hey, you’re a great parent… They love you more than anything, I’m in awe of you. You’re such a great mom.” Stewy promises as he whispers into your ear. You smile at him and tilt your head to kiss him softly on the lips.

*******

The children loved the film and it was a great family day that didn’t end in terms of quality time right after the movie finished. The children were all now tucked in bed and you were lying in bed now and Stewy had just finished brushing his teeth and was coming to lie in bed.

“Hi.” He whispered as he laid on the bed and looked up at you.

“Hey.” You smile back at him and can’t help but feel your cheeks heats up again, you loved him in the pink turtleneck but you also loved him out of it and any tops, just as much.

“And thoughts on the film that made all the men so angry?” He asks.

“I mean, it was a bit gentle on men, huh?” You say as you tilt your head to look at him.

“Uh-huh, far too gentle. It should’ve challenged my masculinity more than it did.” He says softly as he kisses your cheek and then your jaw gently with a smirk. “Ken did kinda feel like that incel-pipeline justification, right?” He says as he pulls away and looks at your face, Stewy starts to caress your arm gently as he leans back on the pillows.

You nod and smile. “Exactly! And you picked that up!” He chuckles at that and his cheeks heat up a bit as he continues to caress your forearm. “It still had some good stuff in it, Tillie really enjoyed it, ‘Yay space!’ Is going to be a new catchphrase for a while.” You say with a smile as you gently caress his cheek in return and giggle a little at the thought. That line alone and the acknowledgement of a Barbie in space was more than enough to make the day for Tillie and seal it as a classic for her.

“Astronaut Barbie was my favorite. Tillie and I have that in common now.” He says playfully and you can’t help but chuckle some more at that.

Stewy then leans back to grab his phone to do something that his mind has just thought of, you can’t help but feel curious.

“What are you doing?” You as with a smirk.

“I’m going to get one of those ‘I’m Kenough’ hoodies delivered to Kendall’s.” He says with a smirk as he taps away at his phone. You can’t help but laugh.

“That’s so thoughtful of you, he definitely needs it.” You laugh.

“Exactly, he really does.” Stewy says playfully, he finishes up, showing you an order confirmation email and then puts his phone down and kisses you softly on the lips.

“Since you’ve seen Barbie, does that mean I have to be your date to Oppenheimer now?” You ask as you look up at him. Stewy immediately scoffs and then laughs.

“No!” He laughs.

“No?” You ask with a small chuckle.

“I’m a dad, I’ve been exposed to the magic and art of Barbie and Bluey, why would I need to see Oppenheimer? Also it’s three hours long? It’s not for children, why would I go through those three hours?” He asks.

You smile and nod as you caress his cheek. “Very good points.” You whisper.

“How boring and convoluted must a film be to be three hours long? And if I have that much time for something shouldn’t I spend it with you and our angels?” You can’t help but smile widely at that.

“Isn’t it mandatory bro viewing now? What on earth will you talk about in the office on Monday?” You ask playfully before kissing him softly on the lips.

“I won’t watch a film because of peer pressure, if I felt insecure, I’d just read the Wikipedia plot and honey, I don’t get insecure.” He says proudly right before leaning over, closer to you in order to kiss your lips. The kiss starts off soft at first but Stewy quickly deepens it, he playfully nibbles on your lip as the kiss deepens on both your ends and Stewy steals a moan from your lips as you run your hands through his hair.

[the-himawari]

A3! Usui Masumi - Translation [R] A New Use for a Crown (2/2)

*Please read disclaimer on blog; default name set as Izumi

---

Izumi: (What great weather! Let’s dry the laundry quickly.)

Masumi: I’ll help you, Director.

Izumi: Oh! Masumi-kun, thank yo—ah.

Masumi: …

Izumi: Whoops… I’ll give you 100 yen later.

Masumi: …Sure.

Izumi: In any case, switching the way you call someone is pretty hard… (Seeing Masumi-kun with a crown on is pretty refreshing though…)

-pause-

Masumi: Great job today, Director. I made tea, so have some.

Izumi: Ah, Masumi-kun…

Masumi: …

Izumi: Oops, I did it again… (I’m glad that he’s helping me out like this, but I can’t stop myself from calling him by his name.) (Plus there a penalty, so it kind of feels like I'm being subjected to the carrot and stick approach...)

Masumi: Sorry, Director. It’ll just be a little longer.

Izumi: O-Okay? (Just what in the world is he up to?)

-pause-

Izumi: (I still call him Masumi-kun a lot, but since then, I’ve gradually grown used to calling him “prince”). (Today, I’ll call him prince from the get-go…!)

Masumi: Director.

Izumi: (And here's my chance!) Good morning, prince.

Masumi: …! Good morning, my princess.

Izumi: (I got a response I didn’t expect. W-Welp, I’m feeling kinda embarrassed…)

Masumi: Today marks a week passing, so you don’t have to call me prince anymore.

Izumi: Oh right, you’re not wearing the crown right now… (Urgh… now I feel even more embarrassed.)

Masumi: …But I got to hear a nice line to finish it off. By the way, I’m sorry for imposing a penalty on you.

Izumi: Don’t worry about it… what was the thing that you wanted to do though?

Masumi: Wait in the lounge for me.

-pause-

Izumi: (I was so busy these last few days, but it looks like I’ll be able to relax today.)

Azami: Oh, your skin's lookin’ brighter now.

Izumi: Azami-kun. Maybe the face masks you gave me the other day were effective! Not to mention Masumi-kun also helped me out a ton.

Azami: I see, that’s nice.

*door opens*

Masumi: I’m back.

Izumi: Welcome back, Masumi-kun.

Azami: Hm? Is that bag full of ice cream?

Masumi: I bought them because I want Director to eat them.

Izumi: Gudiva, Baagen Dazs, and Madam Borden*—all of the ice creams are expensive, seasonal flavours…!

Masumi: You seemed really busy lately, so I wanted to give you something that would cheer you up. You probably would’ve liked curry, but it’s hot out right now.

Izumi: I can’t believe you were thinking of that… Thank you, Masumi-kun.

Masumi: Here’s your money back too.

Izumi: Huh?

Masumi: I wanted to give you something that covered your penalty fee, so I just used it as reference for the amount I should buy.

Azami: I see. It was like a surprise then. Nice goin’.

Izumi: Yeah, I’m really happy. Thank you so much.

Masumi: You’re very welcome.

Izumi: Alright, I suppose I’ll have one right away then.

Masumi: They're all yours, so you’re on break until you finish every last one of them. Stay here.

Izumi: Wait, what!

Azami: He went from 0 to 100 real fast… Anyways, eatin’ too much isn’t good either, y’know?

Masumi: But there’s guys who will take them if we leave them in the freezer.

Azami: True. There might be some people who’ll eat ‘em without checkin’ whose they are first.

Izumi: In that case, can we at least eat them together? We can scoop out all the different flavours onto a plate.

Masumi: Sure.

Izumi: Even then, it might be too much to finish… (I’m on break until I finish eating this ice cream… if that’s the case.) Say, Masumi-kun. If you don’t mind, why don’t we make it “ice cream time” together until we finish eating everything?

Masumi: Ice cream time?

Izumi: Like Azami-kun said, I don’t think eating too much is a good idea either. So let’s make some time everyday to eat this ice cream as a break. And for that, let’s put them in a bag with our names written on it and place it in the back of the freezer so it won’t get swiped.

Azami: I see. I agree no one’s gonna overlook the bag. And it’ll be fine if you just get through ‘em little by little each day.

Izumi: Even so, I think it’s going to take quite a while to finish them all. Masumi-kun, if you happen to have some time as well, then why don’t we eat them together?

Masumi: That sounds good. Just call me, and I’ll come over right away every day.

Izumi: Fufu. Alright, then we’ll make today the first day.

Masumi: Once we run out of ice cream, I’ll go buy more. I can do ice cream time with you every single day.

Azami: Err, there’s somethin’ called a limit, y’know?

Izumi: Ahaha…

---

*Parodies on the brands Godiva, Haagen Dazs, and Lady Borden.

previous |

[atlabeth]

turn back the clock - rafe cameron

summary: your boyfriend breaks up with you days before your best friend's wedding. you're dreading having to face it alone, but when some behind-the-scenes tampering by the bride brings you back into contact with your high school crush, more comes to light than you could've ever imagined.

a/n: thank you to ri for helping me decide which current wip to finish and this post i saw on ig for inspiring it in the first place. i love second chance romance so much and the obx3 trailer made me wanna start writing for rafe again so here we are lmao.

this has been in google drive hell since august and i finished the rest of it all in one go at midnight when i was supposed to be doing homework. so i hope you enjoy

wc: 4.2k

warning(s): small bit of angst at the beginning but basically all fluff, like toothrotting. also reader was a college track athlete but nothing else about her is described

(no i will not stop using this gif of him in the blue suit<333)

You didn’t really wanna have to make this call. Instead, you just wanted to stew in your own misery, watch some sappy rom-coms that make you feel even worse about what happened, and maybe go out and buy a couple pints of ice cream. 

But the day wasn’t supposed to be about you. And you owed it to Elizabeth to at least explain why you might be in a vaguely shitty mood at her wedding.

Honestly, though—you should have expected this. 

“He what?” 

“Liz—” you started, but you knew once she got going there was no bringing her down until she was done. 

“He broke up with you?” 

“Yes,” you said, and you clenched your free hand in a fist to keep from choking up. He didn’t deserve any of your time, you knew that, but that didn’t mean you weren’t hurting. It didn’t mean tears didn’t well up every time you thought about him. “He just sprung it on me out of nowhere last night. I thought we were doing pretty well, but,” you let out a watery laugh, “I guess not.” 

“I can’t believe him,” she seethed. “I told you not to trust guys with J names, and Jason is like, the biggest offender! I told you the moment we met him at that frat party he was bad news—” 

“You don’t need to go on a rant!” you interrupted with a laugh. “I already know how much of a jerk he is— well, I might’ve just had my eyes opened to it, but I know. I just wanted to tell you that I’m… going through some stuff, I guess, in case I seem off during all the planning. But that’s all—you have to promise me that none of the focus is gonna be on me, because this is your day.” 

“...Okay,” she said after some hesitation, “but you can still rant to me whenever you want. Just because you’re one of my bridesmaids doesn’t mean all you have to talk about is the wedding.” 

“How can I not talk about the wedding all the time?” you exclaimed. “Lizzie, I’ve been involved in so much of the process with you that it’s basically all I can think about. This is the most excited I’ve been for anything ever.” 

“Didn’t your brother get married last year?” she said. 

“You know what I mean,” you chuckled. “I just can’t believe you’re getting married, and to Nate, too. It feels like it was just yesterday that you were telling me about the cute boy in your trig class, and six years later and you’re marrying him in a week.” 

You could hear the smile in your words. “It really does feel like yesterday, huh? I remember going on and on about how much I liked him after that group project we got stuck together for—y’know, your encouragement was the only reason I ended up asking him out.” 

“Then I’m glad I kept bothering you,” you said with a smile of your own. “You guys are so great together.” 

“I just wish you would’ve taken my—” Liz suddenly stopped talking on the other end, and you frowned a bit. 

“What?” 

“...Nothing,” she said very suspiciously after a pause. “I, uh— I just remembered there’s something I need to do. Wedding related. I’ll talk to you later?” 

“Yeah—” you said, but she had already hung up. You chuckled and shook your head as you set your phone down. 

You didn’t really know what that was about, but you were looking forward to the wedding—it didn’t matter that you were suddenly single. 

You and Liz had been best friends since you were put next to each other in the seating chart in sixth grade science—and even though she went to NC A&T and you were all the way at San Diego State, you talked basically every day for all four years of college. Sometimes you even made the flights to see each other, and it was worth every single dollar. 

It made you feel a lot better, knowing she had your back (and knowing that she had likely already blacklisted Jason from the guestlist made you feel pretty good too). 

What you didn’t know, though, was that what she was doing at that moment would make the wedding night a whole lot more interesting for you. 

And it all had to do with one Rafe Cameron from high school. 

-

The air was thick with a thousand different perfumes and the stiffness of hairspray along with a whole lot of anxiety as a result of the eight bridesmaids who inhabited the room trying to make sure they looked their best before the procession started in T-10 minutes. 

You were, of course, stressed as well. It was like everything that was fine for the months leading up to the wedding had suddenly decided to go wrong just to spite you. You’d forgotten to take a tag off of your dress and it was digging into a very particular spot of your back, your hair was not cooperating—Ariel and India and Natasha might have said that you looked beautiful, but it was just not working with you—and you were about to run out of your favorite mascara. All small things, but they were beginning to add up. 

And to add to your stress, your phone started to go off. When you opened it, you saw it was a text from Lizzie. 

girl I am so sorry to ask you this I know we’re so close to the start 

but Ayana just told me that she left my bouquet on the table in the sideroom of room 139, she forgot to take them out of the vase! 

sisters aren’t even on top of things when they’re your maid of honor apparently 🙃🙃🙃🙃🙃 

you’re the closest to the room and the only other person I can trust rn because Im going slightly wedding crazy, can you please get it??? I will love you more than my future husband and you will have my eternal gratitude 

using my track past against me i see 

you are pushing it babe 

I know 

help me obi-wan kenobi you’re my only hope 

lol 

dw I got this 🏃‍♀️🏃‍♀️🏃‍♀️

You are my savior and all your drinks are on me next time we go out 

You sighed and shook your head, slipping your heels off in favor of the flats you came here in. The last thing you needed was to break an ankle before the procession. 

“I’ll be back!” you announced to the rest of the bridesmaids—though you weren’t sure any of them heard you in the havoc—before you ran out of the room. You were thankful this dress had a slit. 

It took a minute for you to get there, makeup and hair still intact, but when you did you didn’t see a vase. You huffed a sigh and got to work going through everything. The actual last thing you needed was for Liz to not have her bouquet as she walked down the aisle. 

“Oh— I’m so sorry, I didn’t even know there was another person in here.” 

You turned around from your crouched spot on the floor at the voice, and you nearly toppled over when you saw who it was. 

“Rafe?” you marveled. Though it was posed as a question, there was no doubt about it. You’d only thought about him basically every day for all of high school. 

He said your name with the same surprise, his eyes widening slightly at the same time as he stared at you for a moment too long. You swore his eyes went up and down, a slight pink tinge on his cheeks, when he blinked and shook his head. A wide smile spread across his lips in its place, and it did the same sort of thing to you that it did in high school. You weren’t immune to a Rafe Cameron grin as a freshman, and apparently you weren’t as a college graduate either. “What are you doing here?” 

“Trying to find Lizzie’s bouquet ten minutes before the wedding,” you said with a slight laugh. “What are you doing here?” 

“Uh, Topper left his pocket square in here, apparently,” he said. “We drove here together, and he’s the best man so he’s scrambling all over the place, and—” Rafe paused and he breathed a laugh, his eyes crinkling at the corners in the same way they did in high school. “You get the idea.” 

“Oh, yeah,” you nodded, and a smile pulled at the corners of your lips. “I had no idea you were gonna be at the wedding. I—” you chuckled and shook your head. “I guess I forgot that you and Nate went to UNC together.” 

“Yeah.” Rafe laughed again, though it was a bit nervous as he ran a hand through his hair, stuffing his other hand in his pocket. “It’s uh— it’s been forever since I’ve seen you, though. What, the last time we actually had a conversation was—” 

“That one party at UNC,” you supplied, and you stood up, leaning against the countertop. “The one that Liz dragged me to when I came to visit her for spring break sophomore year. We saw each other there.” 

“...Yeah,” Rafe repeated, and his smile softened. “Yeah, it was then. I didn’t know you remembered that.” 

“‘Course I did,” you said. “I mean, the last time before that was the huge party you, Kelce, and Topper all threw in the last week of summer. Before we all went our separate ways.” 

“Oh, that was…” he laughed as he bowed his head a bit. “That was something. Uh, it should be a rule pre-college boys should not be allowed to be around that much alcohol without supervision. I’m surprised no one died that night.” 

You grinned as the memory of it all came back. It was hard to believe that it was one of the last times you saw Rafe. That it was the last time you saw Rafe for two whole years, and the next time you got even the slightest glimpse of him was a minute long conversation with your very drunk self before you were dragged out by your one sober friend. 

Seeing Rafe was the only thing you remembered from that night.

“I can’t believe it’s been so long,” you said, your voice a bit softer. “College really did something to us, huh?” 

“Yeah,” he said, and his smile faded the slightest bit. “Being on separate coasts’ll do that to you.” 

Your expression softened, and you were about to say something when your phone buzzed in your hand. Panic jolted through you for just a moment before you read what the texts said. 

just kidding lol. It turns out that Alicia got the flowers when she was picking up the drinks from there for the reception

crisis averted!! 

I’ll still cover your drinks though since I prob gave you a mini heart attack and Im very sorry about that 

“Huh,” you said, and you glanced back up at Rafe. “Looks like I was sent on a mission for flowers that weren’t even here.” 

“Elizabeth’s probably all over the place,” he said. “I mean, I’ve been kinda stressed out and I’m not even part of the wedding party. Bridal nerves have gotta be a lot worse.” But then Rafe paused and took his phone out of his pocket, and his brow creased. 

“What’s got you lookin’ like that?” you asked. 

“Huh,” he said. “Topper actually just had his pocket square in his… other pocket. So I guess I was here for nothing then, too.” 

A laugh bubbled out at that. “We’ve got some very organized friends today, huh?” 

“Seems so,” he agreed with a smile. “But I’m glad he misplaced it.” 

“Really?” 

“Yeah,” Rafe nodded, and he shrugged. “I got to see you.” 

You felt the heat rush to your cheeks at an astronomical rate, and you had never been more thankful for your phone to buzz. 

But seriously you gotta finish getting ready we have like five minutes left before the organ starts playing 

liz if this was not your day i would be so mad at you

please. you can never be mad at me 

“I gotta go before I single handedly ruin this whole procession,” you joked, and you went past the entrance and Rafe. But just as you got a few steps away, you turned around and smiled. “I’m also glad that Liz sent me here.” 

Rafe chuckled, smiling inwardly as you hurried away. You didn’t know it, but his eyes didn’t leave you for a second. 

-

The wedding ceremony went fabulously. 

You got back in time and finished getting ready—for some reason, you felt a lot more confident in your appearance—and walked down the aisle arm in arm with a very lovely groomsman before taking your place at the front of the bridesmaid line. 

You cried. A lot. 

When you saw Liz walking down the aisle, when you looked up at Nate and saw the way he gazed at her with all the stars in his eyes, when her father gave her away, when they said their vows, when they kissed, when they walked off—you were a mess basically the entire time. Thank god for waterproof mascara. 

And then when you sat with the bridesmaids for the Liz and Nate's first dance and the parent dances, you cried again. And when Ayana gave her Maid of Honor speech and Topper gave his Best Man speech—you were like a waterfall. A complete mess, but a very happy one at that. 

But you managed to stop by the bathroom and fix yourself up in record time before you all went off to your normal seating charts, and god, you had never been more glad to have done so when you walked in and saw who was at your table. 

Liz either knew everything or nothing, because this... this was really something. 

“So we meet again,” Rafe said, another easy smile appearing as he turned to look at you. “Looks like this wedding is trying to make up for all the years we missed.” 

You chuckled and took your seat next to him. “Guess so. It’s not an easy feat, though.” 

“Six years was a long time,” he said. 

“Didn’t really help that my parents sold our house in the OBX after I graduated,” you said dryly. “I missed all those Rafe Cameron summers during college.” 

“‘Rafe Cameron summer’?” he asked, raising his eyebrows. “Didn’t realize there was a word for it.” 

“What can I say?” you shrugged. “I graduated with an English minor. It allows me to make up phrases whenever I want.” 

“Ah,” he said, nodding sagely. “I guess my… finance concentration means I control the stock market?” 

You laughed and shook your head. “You’re ridiculous. It obviously means you’re the head of the treasury. Keep up, Rafe.” 

“My bad.” He held up his hands with mock austerity. “Our time apart is the reason for such a ridiculous mistake.” 

You smiled, but it sobered a bit and you bit your lip. “On a serious note,” you said, “I’m… I’m really sorry.” 

Rafe frowned. “For what?” 

“For that time apart,” you said. “I came back to North Carolina more than a few times to visit Liz and some other friends, but I never came to see you. We were— we were good friends, Rafe, and I shouldn’t have just disappeared on you like that all because I was at a different college.” 

Somehow, his brow furrowed even deeper. “What? You can’t possibly be blaming yourself for this—people grow apart in distance. That… that just happened to us. I mean, you were in California and I was in Chapel Hill. That’s crazy distance.” 

“I still came back, though,” you said. “Just… never for you.” 

“...I didn’t expect you to,” Rafe said, looking right in your eyes. “No matter how much…” 

“What?” you asked after he trailed off. 

Rafe sighed, then shook his head, trying to clear his mind before he looked back at you. “Do you wanna dance?” 

“What?” you repeated, mostly because you couldn’t believe it. 

“Dance with me.” He stood up and offered a hand, passing a glance at the dance floor. All of the official dances had been done already so it was open to anybody, including you and your high school crush. 

“Okay,” you said with an almost breathless laugh, and you really felt like your freshman self again the way butterflies fluttered in your chest as you took his hand and walked over to an open spot. 

You and Rafe fell into an easy rhythm, like you’d been doing this all your lives, and it didn’t take too long for your conversation to follow. 

“So what did you get up to in all those years at SD State?” he asked. “All I really know about your college career is what I’ve gotten from Instagram and your parents’ Facebooks.” 

You laughed a bit. “Regular college stuff, I guess. I did track all four years and I won some awards, which was pretty cool. Went to a lot of parties, got drunk a lot, swore off drinking a lot, studied until I thought my eyes were going to fall out, then graduated with a chemistry degree. I’ve been working as a technician in a lab for the company I interned with for the past two years.” 

Rafe whistled. “‘Regular college stuff’, she says, as she describes an insane balancing act between student athlete life, partying, and schoolwork, and still being able to graduate with a STEM degree.” 

“You’re such a flatterer,” you admonished, but there was no real bite in your words. “That’s one thing that’s never changed.” 

“It’s easy to flatter a woman like you,” he said. “I mean, you’re out there changing the world. I feel like I’m not even worthy to stand in your presence.” 

You chuckled as Rafe spun you, and as your hands joined once again you offered a coy smile. 

“You know,” you said, feeling a surge of confidence with his words, “I had the biggest crush on you in high school.” 

Rafe’s eyes widened slightly, but he covered it up with a well placed smile of his own. “Really?” he marveled, and he said your first and last name, “you had a crush on me?” 

“Yep,” you nodded. “And she had it bad. If freshman year me could see this, she would be losing her mind.” 

Rafe laughed, and it spurned butterflies in your chest yet again—they were the same kind you’d felt whenever you talked to him back then, trying to catch whatever moments you could between your busy schedule and his own responsibilities. You were too scared to admit your feelings, but you enjoyed spending time with him nonetheless. 

If there was one thing this was proving, though, it was that your feelings definitely weren’t as settled as you thought. 

“Well, you know,” he said thoughtfully, echoing your previous words as he brought you back to the present, “I had a pretty big crush on you in high school too.” 

That completely threw you off your rhythm. So much so that you stumbled, totally missing your next steps—if it weren’t for Rafe catching you, you would’ve face planted. 

“Are you good?” Rafe asked, concerned. 

“You had a crush on me?” you asked instead. 

He laughed again and ran a hand through his hair before you fell back into your rhythm together—he had let it grow out some, you realized, and it looked infinitely better all ruffled and mussed up than styled. 

“Yeah,” he said. His smile wasn’t as confident as it always was, a boyish charm mingling with unusual shyness. “It, uh— it kinda snuck up on me. I didn’t really know how big of a crush it was until I was at your signing ceremony. Like, right after you signed the contract was when I realized I had it bad.” 

“My signing ceremony?” you marveled, and you shook your head in disbelief. “You really have great timing, Rafe. Couldn’t have realized a couple years earlier when we were still in the same place?” 

Rafe laughed softly. “Yeah. I really do. But I didn’t say anything because I didn’t want to make it harder for you. I mean, I was staying in the OBX for Chapel Hill, and you were taking the opportunity of a lifetime to run track in San Diego. I wasn’t gonna take your mind off of that because some hometown guy had a crush on you.”

“Some hometown guy,” you repeated, and it was your turn to laugh. “You thought that little of yourself?” 

“It’s true,” he shrugged. “I was just a friend that fell for you. I mean,” he gave you a crooked smile, “not that it was hard to fall for you. Pretty sure I was one of ten guys who wanted to ask you to prom senior year.” 

“Okay, that is not true at all,” you said, but you were stumbling over yourself just as quickly. He wanted to ask you to prom senior year? When the one thing that you thought about whenever you looked at him that spring was dancing with him at prom? “Grant Millwood was the only one that asked me.”

Rafe nodded with a laugh. “That was because he threatened everyone that he knew had a crush on you to make sure he would get to go with you.”

“And then he ditched me halfway through the night because he got too drunk to function off the alcohol he smuggled in himself,” you said dryly. “Yeah, he was a great date.”

“High school was the best,” Rafe said with mock austerity, “wasn’t it?”

“Oh, yeah,” you nodded. “I miss the kook academy every single day.”

“I still can’t believe you wanted to ask me to prom senior year,” you said, shaking your head. “Rafe, how did I not even know? Why didn’t you do it?” 

“And let you miss your chance with Grant Millwood?” Rafe over exaggerated his scoff. “Please.” 

A laugh spilled out as a smile shone through. “You would’ve saved high school me a lot of angst if you told her you had a crush on her, y’know. Then I wouldn’t have had to spend four years pining in high school.” And four more in college, and two more postgrad. 

(God, you wish he had told you sooner. You would’ve blown all of your money on tickets to North Carolina if you had even the slightest inkling your eternal feelings weren’t eternally hopeless.) 

“Goes both ways,” he said, tacking on your last name. “Why didn’t you tell me how bad you had it?” 

“Because I thought that there was no chance in Hell that Rafe Cameron would ever share my feelings?” you said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “Come on, Rafe—you know who you are, who you were. You say a couple guys wanted to ask me to prom—every girl wanted to date you. I didn’t stand a chance.” 

“And yet you did,” Rafe said with a slight chuckle. He shook his head. “Y’know, if I could turn back the clock, I would’ve done so many things differently.” Rafe smiled boyishly. “I would’ve mustered the nerve to ask you to prom before Grant even got the chance. And I definitely would’ve asked you out instead of liking you in private.” 

You smiled and shrugged. He liked you then when you thought there was no chance—why not now, when you also thought there was no chance? 

“Who says you have to turn back the clock?” 

Rafe’s own grin grew immediately, and he pulled you off to the side of the dance floor. He held your hands in his own, the cool metal of his signet ring at odds with the rough calluses on his palms brushing against your skin. 

He said your name with such earnesty you felt like you could melt, and when you gazed into his eyes, you nearly did. “I think you are the most amazing woman I’ve ever met in every single way. I can’t believe that it took me meeting you by chance at a wedding for me to do this, but I’d like to fix a mistake I made five years ago by never doing this. Can I take you on a date?” 

“Rafe Cameron,” you said, and it was a physical effort to contain the joy nearly bursting out of you, “I would love that more than anything.” 

He grinned. “Great.” 

And then he cupped your face in his hands and pulled you in for the best kiss of your life, one that you immediately fell into with all the vigor of six years spent longing. 

When he pulled away, leaving you completely breathless with widened eyes and bruised lips, his sultry whisper nearly took you out. 

“I’ve been wanting to do that for years.” 

You only had eyes for Rafe as you pulled him back into a heated kiss, pulling him by the cuffs of his baby blue suit. The only thing that got you away from him was the need for air.

"Me too," you murmured.

(And in the background, you were far too dazed to hear Liz’s victorious cheer.)

-

perm tags: @dv0412 @siriuslyslyslytherin @maruchan77 @simonsbluee @kwyloz @masteroperator @louderfortheback 

obx tags: @milkiane @lilgoddesshines @sexytholland

rafe tags: @lurkymurker

[writtenjewels]

Genie part 4

Part One, Part Two, Part Three

Jason started asking him a lot of questions about being a genie. Salim took a long time in answering the first question-- what was the weirdest thing someone wished for-- because he wasn't sure what was considered “weird”. He gave several examples and felt that flutter inside him again when the answers made Jason laugh. Next Jason asked about some of the places Salim had been, and that took a long time in answering, too.

“Guess that's a perk of the job,” Jason mused. “You travel all over the world for free. I'm traveling on my own dime, which is why the hotel room I'm in is so shitty.” Salim didn't bother offering to take Jason on a free trip around the world; he already knew how Jason would respond.

Jason steered them toward an outdoor café where they sat to continue their conversation. Night was falling and their café had a beautiful view of the sun setting. Salim watched the colors shift from bright yellow to orange, nearly red. He didn't realize Jason was calling his name until he felt a touch on his shoulder.

“What do you wanna drink? The waiter's gonna be by soon.”

“Oh, I don't know.” On the rare times he was out of his vase long enough to need sustenance, he usually contented himself with water. But Jason was determined to not make wishes, so maybe it was all right to indulge a little. “Coffee,” he decided at last. “It smells good.”

The order was placed and Salim picked up the menu. He could ask for anything, he realized with a spinning head. His dreams showed him meals before but he never tasted any of them. He picked one at random and nearly moaned at the first bite. He sensed Jason watching him and glanced up, catching a warm smile on the human's face.

“You're fuckin' cute,” Jason told him. “Bet anything tastes good after five years.”

“I've never eaten anything before,” Salim confessed. “I've told you: the humans who woke me before make their wishes so quickly. And the magic in my vase keeps me sustained when I'm sleeping.”

“Jesus.” Jason frowned at his meal. He stabbed his fork into it and dropped it onto Salim's plate. “Try that.” Salim did and found it just as delicious as what he ordered. “Salim,” Jason spoke up. “Hasn't anyone ever tried wishing you free?”

“Yes.” Salim smiled remembering the human who wished it. “He was a young boy named Zain. Before him, I was kept by the same human and awoken once a year. Because of my magic, my master became a very powerful man, but he was not kind to his people. Zain stole my vase; he wished for my master to forget me, that all of his wealth and power would go back to how it was before he began wishing, and lastly for my freedom.”

“But it didn't work,” Jason argued. “You're still in that vase and you still gotta grant three wishes.”

“That's true,” Salim nodded. “But before Zain's wish, I was trapped by that ruler. The magic had no rule about who would wake me; he could keep rubbing my vase year after year and getting three more wishes. I was only granted a year because I lied to him and said I needed that time to rest and gather my magic. Thanks to Zain's wish, my vase moves to new hands every time. I've seen so much of the world.”

“And you wonder why I don't wanna wish,” Jason scowled. “Your magic fucked you over.”

Salim never thought of it like that. It had felt like freedom to him: a release from the one human he thought of as his master, a chance to see the world and meet new people. Salim knew he wouldn't be sitting here with Jason now if it wasn't for Zain's wish. He'd been awake all day and hadn't granted a single wish. Instead he walked with Jason and was enjoying food and coffee. His magic didn't “fuck him over”; it brought him here.

They finished the rest of their meal in silence. Afterward they went walking around again. Jason stopped to buy them both ice cream. Salim now understood why so many humans wished for food: it was all so delicious! They made it back to Jason's hotel room and Jason paused at the bathroom door.

“You wanna go first?” he offered. “It ain't a bath.” Salim didn't understand what the human meant at first. Then he remembered all his dreams of people washing themselves.

Inside the bathroom, Salim fiddled with the shower until he got water to come out. Standing there under the spray was the most luxurious feeling. He could have stayed under there all night if Jason didn't need his turn. Salim settled himself on the chair and watched the television while Jason washed up. This whole day was so strange to him. He wondered if he was still asleep and was dreaming all of this.

But he knew that couldn't be: in all of his dreams, he was an observer. He never got to participate. However Jason felt, he helped Salim enjoy these things. The human didn't seem as annoyed with Salim's presence. Maybe it was talking about Zain that brought this to mind, but Salim realized this was the first time since then that any human felt like a friend. Except his feelings for the two humans were very different. Zain never made Salim's insides flutter or cause Salim's heart to swell.

Jason exited the bathroom and Salim turned, feeling that swell in his heart looking at the human. Jason had changed clothes and was now wearing a worn shirt and sweatpants. His dark hair was still damp from the shower. Their eyes met and Jason gave him a little smile.

“You look pretty,” Salim told him. Jason went red and then he snorted, shaking his head.

“You got some sense of humor, Salim.” Salim wanted to insist but Jason was already looking away. “So... you should take the bed.”

“Take it where?”

“To sleep,” Jason clarified. “You take the bed. I can sleep on the floor.” Salim was confused; he only ever slept in his vase before. “I'd just feel weird makin' you sleep in that chair or on the floor,” Jason went on. His eyes darted to Salim briefly and then away.

“I'm not sure I need sleep,” Salim mused. “Not in the way you do.”

“Well, it's yours whenever.” Jason grabbed a pillow from the bed and dropped it on the floor, sitting on it next to Salim. Salim quickly understood what Jason meant about feeling weird and joined the human on the floor.

Salim shifted back into his normal dress. Jason eyed him but there was no annoyance in his gaze this time. The human's face was flushed red again, his look almost shy. Salim felt an unexplained urge to touch Jason. He moved his hand to cover Jason's. The human watched him with a strangely wary expression.

“Jason,” Salim began, but couldn't think of what else to say. The human truly was pretty: the shape of his jaw, the slope of his nose, the charming splash of freckles across his pale cheeks. Salim had no doubt seen pretty humans many times over the years but he didn't think much of it. With them it was all about granting wishes.

Jason didn't want wishes. Salim thought he didn't want the genie around at all, but that didn't seem the case. They stared at each other for a few heartbeats, then Jason pulled his hand away and wrapped his arms around his legs. The gesture gave Salim a strange pain in his heart.

And when he thought of Jason coming up with a wish that would send Salim away, that pain grew even more.

[faofinn]

Day 21 - Field Medicine

@mediwhumpmay

“Are we nearly there?”

Fao rolled his eyes and smacked his brother lightly on the thigh. “Finn I swear to God if you say that one more time I'll do 30 the rest of the way there.”

“I’ve only asked it like ten times. Wait until you’ve got kids.”

“If I wanted kids, I'd have kids. You're fucking 25. Look it up on your phone if you want to know.” He teased. 

“Such a grump.”

“And you're surprised?”

“We’re on holiday, you’re meant to be happy.”

“I am happy, I'm back home.”

“Tell your attitude that.” Finn yawned as he tried to stretch out.

“I'd be happier if I wasn't driving a literal child.”

“I’m not a child! You said yourself I’m 25.”

“Acting like you're five.”

“You’re acting like you’re five.” Finn grumbled back. 

Fao laughed. “If you're really that desperate to know, we're about twenty minutes away.”

“Forever away. Want a snack?”

“Sure, if you've not eaten them all.”

“Saved you some.” Finn struggled to keep a straight face as he passed Fao half a crisp. “There you go.”

Fao rolled his eyes, taking the crisp and throwing it back at Finn. “Aw, you shouldn't have.” He replied, laughing. 

“Seriously though, what do you want?”

“Whatever you've got, you know I'm not fussy.”

“That’s a lie.” He laughed in response, passing Fao a snack for real. “We’ve still got plenty of stuff if you’re hungry. Mum made emergency sandwiches.”

“Mum makes emergency everything.” Fao replied. “We'll eat for real when we get there.”

“I hope so.”

“Promise.”

“Full three course meal.”

“Well, I wouldn't go quite that far.”

“I would. I’m starving.”

“I'm a good cook but I'm not that good.”

“Should have got a cottage.”

“You wanted to camp!”

“Yeah, well!” Finn was stumped for an answer.

“You can't be pissy with me for listening to you.”

Finn rolled his eyes. “Sure.”

“Come on, it'll be fun. We're gonna roast marshmallows.”

“I can tell you about the stars, if we see them.”

“Yeah, exactly. Hopefully the clouds will clear.”

“It’s not London. You’ll actually be able to breathe.”

Fao laughed. “I've not been able to breathe for years. Beginning to doubt I even have lungs.”

“Smoking does that to you.”

“Ah, save me the lecture. I get it from Mum every time I go home.”

Finn grinned at Fao. “Can’t say I didn’t warn you.” 

“Yeah, yeah.”

There was a pause, Finn looking at his phone for a moment before he spoke. “How-”

“Fucking hell, Finn! It’s two minutes from the last time I told you!” Fao exclaimed. 

Soon enough they reached Fao’s place, and got their little campsite set up. It had been a long day travelling, and they were glad to get the tent up and the fire going. After that they ate, laughing and joking between themselves. 

Once they’d finished eating, they toasted marshmallows, Finn deliberately trying to steal Fao’s. More laughter ensued, and they spent a while afterwards just sitting by the fire enjoying the warmth. That was when Finn turned to him, a grin on his face. 

“I’m hungry.”

“Finn, you literally just ate.” 

“And? I’m hungry again.”

“Jesus. Fine, let’s go get some snacks or something.” Fao grumbled, standing up and grabbing his keys. 

"You should have packed better."

“I packed fine!” Fao protested. “You’re just eating me out of house and home.”

"I'm growing."

“You’re an adult, you’re not growing!” Fao unlocked the car, getting in and waiting for Finn to join him. The village near to his big house was small, but there was a little shop he could keep Finn happy by buying some snacks. Halfway there, Fao frowned. “I think we’re being followed.”

"You didn’t tell anyone, did you?" Finn glanced in the mirror. "I can't read the reg from here."

“I only told Dad.” Fao said. “Nobody else, I swear. Think you could get the reg if I brake test him?”

"Don't crash into anything." He muttered, twisting in his seat to have a better view. "Ready?"

The stretch of road was straight, Fao would have plenty of time. He knew he was testing the limits, this could end badly, but he had to try. 

“Ready.” He checked his mirror, eased off the accelerator and hit the brakes sharply, hoping to reduce the distance between them and the other car. 

Finn struggled to read the reg behind him, but quickly made a note. It wasn’t one of theirs, and not one he recognised as being on their lists. His frown deepened, and he reached for his phone to text Fred.

"It's not a plate I recognise." He murmured. "Maybe they're just being a dick? Take a few turns and see if they drop off."

Fao had caught enough of it, and quickly sped up again. “Not one of Tomas’, either, I don’t think. I’ll see if we can lose them.”

"Maybe just an arse on the roads. There's plenty of them."

“Yeah, tell me about it.”

"Youre one of them." He tried to joke. 

“Careful, or you can walk.” 

"Go on, I dare you."

“I will!”

As they drove, Fao taking endless turns, he was sure he’d managed to lose the car that had been following them. He was still on edge, though, as they pulled up outside the shop and hopped out. He had an unsettled feeling, as his brother dragged him round, constantly on edge. 

He was right to be worried, because moments later there was an almighty crash, followed by an even louder explosion. 

The explosion had Finn shoved away from Fao, the flash and noise disorienting him further. The pain came next, burning down his abdomen and leg, blood already dripping in his eyes. 

It ripped through the building, tearing walls apart and showering bricks everywhere. Fao was knocked to the ground, his ears ringing, and it took him a moment to recover. When he did, he was aware of the searing pain in his shoulder, the tingling in his fingers. Almost certainly dislocated, he realised sluggishly. As he took stock of the rest of his body, the headache was something, distracting enough, but nothing else seemed bad. Coughing, he forced himself to his knees, his bad arm held close to his chest the best he could. 

“Finn!”

There was rubble and debris everywhere, the air thick and choking. Finn struggled to get a breath in, his chest tight and each breath a stab of agony. He tried and failed to sit up, instinctively curling onto his side. This was going to be how he was going to die.

Finn didn’t respond, only fuelling Fao’s anxiety. He struggling to his feet, hauling himself up. He seemed to take weight okay, but his knee twinged and definitely wasn’t comfortable. He didn’t have much of a choice, he needed to get to his brother. 

“Finn!” He called again. “Where are you?!”

"Fa-" Finn broke off, coughing again. Spots danced in his vision and he dropped his head back to the concrete. 

Finn’s cough was just about enough for Fao to find where he was and he rushed towards him as best he could. When he found him, he fell to his knees, reaching for him. 

“I’m here, I’m here.”

Finn managed to grab at Fao's hand, gripping it as tight as he could. They'd be fine if they were together. 

Fao squeezed his hand. “I’ve got you. Just breathe.”

If only it was that easy. He could feel the dizziness pulling at him, the darkness teasing him with emptiness and pain free.

Fao could see him giving up. “Hey, hey, no. Stay with me, that’s it. What hurts?”

What didn't? He could have laughed, but that was just energy he didn't have. He forced his eyes open again, trying to focus on Fao’s face. 

“That’s it, look at me. I know it sucks, I know. Can you let go of my hand so I can have a look at you?”

"Don't go." He managed, voice cracked. 

“I’m not going, I just need my hand.”

He let go of Fao’s hand, letting it drop to the ground by his side. "I want to go home."

“Me too.” Fao murmured, looking over him. 

"Sorry." 

“It’s alright. Let’s just look after you.” He murmured. He could see the blood on his forehead, but that wasn’t what was concerning him the most. With the hand that he could use properly, he skimmed over Finn, feeling for blood, for pain, anything that could tell him what was going on. 

Finn winced, biting his already bloody lip to stop the scream that was building. He knew Fao had to check; he could feel the break to his ribs himself, and he knew they were the least of his problems. 

“I know, I know.” Fao tried to soothe. He could feel the ribs himself, but there wasn’t much he could do about them. 

As Fao’s hands reached his leg, Finn shoved them away. "Off."

“I need to check Finn.” Fao said, reaching for his knife. It was easy enough to cut Finn’s trousers, and then at least he could see what he was dealing with.

"Fao, no." His voice cracked again, choking on the thickness of the air. Panic flared through him as the pain took over, pushing him under. 

Fao swore to himself, but it was easier with Finn unconscious. The leg was in bad shape, the ankle obviously broken and his knee badly dislocated. Fao reached with his bad arm and swore at himself, pain lancing through it. Stupid thing. There was a cut above his eye which was stinging with sweat and bleeding stubbornly down his face, and he wiped it away roughly. He needed to focus. The leg looked like the worst of it for Finn, but as he watched him breathe he realised his brother was struggling. If only he had some kit, anything. This was so hard flying completely blind. 

Finn didn't bother moving as he came to, too much of his energy just being spent on breathing. Even that wasn't enough, feeling like he was trying to breathe from underwater. The more the dust settled, the more the thoughts became clearer. If whoever had done this had a tiny bit of brain, they'd make sure the job was done, and done completely. Not wanting to stay the sitting duck he was, Finn fidgeted, only growing more agitated against Fao's hands as he tried to find his gun. 

“Finn, Finn. Settle, it’s okay.” Fao told him. 

Maybe Fao had his, a moment of slight clarity from Finn before he tried to reach for his brother’s gun. "Not bein' a duck."

“A duck? Fucking hell, you are concussed.” Fao muttered, moving Finns hands away from him. “Relax, okay? I’m not finished checking you over.”

"Need…need the gun."

“No. I need you to stay still.”

"They're gon-gonna be here."

“I’m trying to help. I can’t help if you keep moving.”

"They're not the ducks." Finn managed, frustrated. "Up."

“Good fucking luck getting up on that leg.” 

"Then help."

“I can’t, I need you to stay put.” He said. The dark patch on Finn’s top was worrying him, and his breathing was getting worse. 

"Please." He started coughing, specks of blood collecting on the concrete.

That wasn’t a good sign. Fuck. Why did this have to happen here, with no resources? He hoped emergency services were coming, but it already felt like an eternity. Maybe it wasn’t safe yet. Fao’s head was still pounding, every cough from Finn just jolting it and making it so much worse. He swiped at the cut on his brow again, and couldn’t work out if the blood on his hands was his or Finn’s. 

Finn had managed to get more upright, but it barely lasted a moment. His chest pulled and darkness loomed wit each forced inhale. He twisted to grab at something, but the movement made everything so much worse. He pitched forward into Fao's chest.

Fao groaned. “Fuck, Finn. Lay down, Jesus.” 

"Help me then." He slurred, though didn't dare move. 

“I’m trying!” Fao snapped. “But you’re not fucking listening to me!”

He pulled away at that. "Fuck you, then."

“Jus’ do as I fucking say!”

There was a flash of hurt across his face, confusion at why his brother would snap at him when he was just trying to get some help. It didn't last long, crumpling back onto the ground, his head bouncing off the concrete. With a bit of space between the two, and despite the thickness of the air, it was all too obvious that Finn was very not well. 

He was paler than usual, his hair matted with blood and dust. The worst, more worrying sign was the cyanosis to his lips, and, as he lay still, the hiss to his chest with each forced breath. 

Fao winced. He’d not meant to snap like that, but he was so stressed, so anxious about the whole situation, he’d just lost it with his brother. Hopefully he wouldn’t really remember it. He adjusted his focus to Finn’s chest, concern building as his brother struggled for each breath. He had no chest X-ray, no stethoscope, nothing, but he knew things weren’t right. The wound on Finns chest was a massive cause for concern, and he knew it was more than likely his brother had a collapsed lung. But how the fuck was he supposed to fix that in the rubble of a little shop? 

Now Finn couldn’t fuss when he left, Fao could get up and look for supplies. There wasn’t a lot, but something was surely better than nothing. Something to stop the bleeding, alcohol to disinfect, some stuff he was hoping he could fudge into a chest drain of sorts. Maybe that would give Finn enough relief until they could get help. He found his phone then, it finally occurring to him to use it, and was relieved it had a tiny bit of signal. If proper services weren’t coming, he’d take matters into his own hands. 

It was Harrison that answered Fao’s call, half asleep and confused. "What's happening?"

“Hars.” Fao rasped, relieved he’d answered. “I need you to go and wake Fred. Finn and I-“ He broke off to cough. “We’ve been hit.”

"What? Fuck, where are you? What's happened?"

“Some co-op near the house. I don’t know, we were followed an’ then…” He trailed off. “Finn’s in bad shape.”

Harrison could feel the fear from Fao. "How badly?"

“Bad. I think he’s got a pneumo, he’s struggling, and his leg’s fucked. I’m going to have to do a drain.”

"Have you got kit?" Harrison was struggling to get sorted. "I can scramble the heli?"

“I’ve got nothing.” Fao admitted. “Bottle of vodka and a knife. I’m going to need something.”

"I'll get everyone going." Harrison said. "Just keep him stable."

“I’ll send my location.” Fao muttered. 

"I'm just getting Steve up, we'll get the team to you, yeah? Just hold on."

“Tell Fred that reg was important, I’m sure of it.” Fao muttered. He let Harrison go to sort everything out, whilst he had to focus on Finn. There wasn’t much he could do, he knew that, but he had to try. The fact he was still unconscious was worrying, but it worked in his favour. His chest was not good at all, the blue tinge to his lips just compounding that. The side with the injury was more pressing, but he wouldn’t be surprised with the way finn was struggling if both sides were compromised in some way. 

He awkwardly opened the bottle of vodka, trying not to think about what he was doing. He doused his knife, equipment and Finn’s skin, as well as his hands, and looked for his landmarks. He really, really didn’t want to do this, but he didn’t have a choice. He needed to work quickly, in case his brother came round again, and made the cut. It was hard, his broken ribs blurring landmarks, but he got where he needed to be, making the cut deeper to get all the way through. It was hard with one fully working arm, but he had to carry on.  He had a straw, which was completely shit, but it would do the job, just until the team got there. That’s what he hoped, anyway. He hated every second of what he was doing, the smell of the vodka burning his nose, but he got it in and the blood came rushing out, soaking into his jeans. It was partially fear, partially relief that Fao felt. It was good that he was going some of the way to fixing the issue, but it was a lot of blood for Finn to be losing.

[fizzydrink698]

little white lies: pt. 1 | hyunjin

pairing: hwang hyunjin x reader

word count: 12.2k

genre: fake-dating, friends-to-lovers

warnings: mentions of past infidelity, the questionable ethics of pretending to date someone to sneak them into a wedding (?)

summary:

Bringing the straw up to his mouth, Hyunjin mumbles to himself. “Anything else you want to suddenly spring on me?”

“Uh…” you say, smile fading as you can’t help but feel a little guilty. “You might have to be my boyfriend?”

Hyunjin’s eyes widen at you.

You groan. “That’s a fucking good cookie.”

Felix beams at you, already finished with his own cookie. His coffee sits to the side, untouched, until he declares it cool enough to drink. “I know, right? I can’t believe they’re only seasonal.”

“Seasonal?” you repeat, horrified. “What? They’re getting rid of these? Are they allergic to money or something?”

“Limited supply ups demand,” Minho drawls, sipping his own coffee – a black Americano, sweetened with a handful of sugar sachets. “Therefore more money, especially if losers like you get panicked and buy like ten at once.”

“It’s too early in the morning for your market analytics, Lee,” you grumble. “And I’m not gonna buy ten of these. That would be…financially irresponsible.”

“You’re right, it would be. But would that stop you?”

“None of your business,” you retort, flashing him a look before taking another bite of your cookie – which is somehow better than the first, what the fuck? “Holy shit. This is the best thing I’ve put in my mouth in months.”

There’s a silent pause, and you glance up to see two sympathetic pairs of eyes on you. You roll your eyes, scowling. “You can laugh. If the joke is about an ex-boyfriend, you should always laugh. Even if it’s crude. Even if it’s not funny.”

The two men at your table are quiet for a moment, eyeing you cautiously.

“…I mean, your jokes are never funny,” Minho retorts, but at least the sympathetic look is gone.

“That’s a filthy lie and you know it,” you pout, pointing your cookie at him. “I’m hilarious.”

“Sure.”

“But seriously,” Felix interjects, leaning in. “Let me just ask once, no bullshit. You are doing OK, right?”

His slight, concerned little frown pulls at something in your chest, and you try to keep serious for a second, suppressing that long-ingrained impulse to laugh everything off. “Yeah, I’m doing OK. He cleared out all his stuff last week. Chan’s giving me a lift to IKEA tomorrow to pick out some new furniture, fill out the empty space a little. I’m coping.”

Felix seems reassured by your answer, and goes back to eating his cookie with a quick nod.

Before you can do the same, however, you’re hit with a sudden reminder. “Oh, shit! Speaking of Chan, I’ve still got to buy a dress for his wedding. There’s, like, less than a month left, right? Crazy.”

You’re not really expecting a specific reaction to this, but the way Felix and Minho suddenly glance at each other catches you off-guard. “What? What is it?”

“About that…” Felix trails off.

“I don’t know how much you know, but…it’s probably best if you don’t mention the wedding when Hyunjin comes,” Minho warns you.

“What? Why?”

They exchange another look.

“…He hasn’t been invited,” Felix reveals, quietly.

You blink.

“…Sorry, what?”

“He didn’t get an invite,” Minho repeats.

Hearing it a second time doesn’t help it sink in any easier.

“OK, but…surely it’s just, like, lost in the mail?” you say, still in disbelief. “It’s Hyunjin. Does Chan know?”

Felix makes a face, picking at the remnants of his cookie. “Jisung brought it up, but…”

“Chan’s been super fucking sketchy about it,” Minho finishes for him, “and so has Hyunjin.”

“They’re still talking normally,” Felix adds. “That’s the weird thing, so we don’t think they had some kind of fall-out or something.”

“He just didn’t get invited,” Minho says, with a shrug.

“…Holy shit,” you say, shocked.

You’d spent the last two months or so caught up in your break-up, and all that came along with it. Changing names on bills, closing your joint bank account, things like that. But you still can’t believe that you’ve missed all this. “Do you think it’s…you know, her?”

All three of you know who you mean by ‘her’.

Chan’s fiancée.

She’s, uh…

She’s…how do you put it delicately?

She’s a real character.

“Probably,” Minho shrugs, “but fuck knows why. And besides, you know she doesn’t like Jisung, and he still got an invite.”

“Well, yeah, but Chan and Jisung have been friends since fucking high school. He’d lose his shit if she didn’t let him invite Jisung.”

Felix looks down at his plate, at the sad pile of crumbs and tiny chocolate chips. “You’d hope so.”

A silence falls across the table in the wake of Felix’s quiet, but pointed response.

There had been a few conversations amongst your group, usually fuelled by alcohol, that Chan was a little too much of a people-pleaser. Once, it had been one of his more endearing traits – but since his relationship had turned serious, sometimes you felt like you were watching one of your closest friends slowly transform into a doormat for his partner to tread on as she liked.

Felix is right. You hope that Chan would get angry if she refused to invite someone as close to him as Jisung – but that was the key word there. ‘Hope’.

You frown, reaching for your coffee, and make a decision. “I’m seeing Chan tomorrow, anyway. I’ll ask him about it then.”

“Hopefully, you get more out of him than we did,” Minho says, uncharacteristically sincere.

Before you can say much more on the matter, you’re distracted by the sudden appearance of a familiar face stepping into the café.

You straighten up, sparing the others a quick glance.

“Hyunjin’s here,” you mumble, before immediately turning towards the approaching figure with a broad smile and a little wave. “Hey! You finally made it!”

With all this new information you’d just learned, you’re expecting to see some kind of evidence on Hyunjin’s face of what’s been happening. Some kind of devastation that one of his oldest friends hasn’t invited him to his wedding.

You find nothing, only an unfairly gorgeous face returning your smile, cheer reaching all the way to his eyes. He’d recently dyed his hair, going from the light blond he’d been sporting for about half a year to an almost jet-black, and you’d prepared yourself for the worst.

But no, you’d forgotten how good Hyunjin looked with dark hair. It gave him a little bit of an edge, a new indefinable air that turned all heads in his direction. Factor in his slightly dishevelled office suit – jacket off and folded around his arm, tie loosened, sleeves rolled up to expose his forearms – and you found yourself staring at a strikingly attractive man.

Hyunjin collapses in the empty seat saved for him, dumping his briefcase on the floor and jacket in his lap, and lets out a deep, work-weary sigh. “God, I hate my job.”

“Preaching to the choir,” Minho mumbles, not unsympathetically, and takes one long gulp of coffee.

“Did something happen today?” you ask, curious. “You’re not usually late.”

“Had to stay behind to help an intern after she fucked up the numbers,” Hyunjin says, before shaking his head. “No, I probably shouldn’t say that. She’s a sweet girl, just nervous. Only graduated college over the summer.”

“Oh, I remember college,” you sigh, dramatically, propping your chin up with one hand. “Remember parties? Remember when the biggest responsibility you had was when your next assignment was due? Remember how easy dating was back then?”

“I remember how easy dating was for him back then,” Felix says, gesturing to Hyunjin with a playful scowl. “We shared a bedroom wall.”

Hyunjin has the grace not to smirk, but you can tell it’s a close call. “Sorry.”

Felix rolls his eyes, dismissing the apology with a wave of his hand. “Yeah, yeah.”

You only really started talking to the boys near the end of your time at college, but even before then, the trio in front of you had been infamous among campus as stupidly hot members of the dance team. You had been dragged to a few of their showcases by your smitten roommate, but honestly, it was that long ago that you couldn’t really remember any specific performance of theirs.

Well, except one.

You can’t stop yourself from glancing at Hyunjin.

There was one that you remember very vividly, for all the wrong reasons.

Oblivious to your internal musings, Hyunjin stands up and drapes his jacket over the back of his chair. “I’m going up to get a coffee. Anyone want anything while I’m there?”

“I’m good,” Minho replies.

“No, thanks,” Felix smiles, removing his straw from his drink to lick the remnants of whipped cream still clinging to it.

You hesitate, but with an eventual shrug, you push yourself up to your feet. “I’ll come with you.”

“Why? You want another cookie?” Minho asks, amused.

You make a face, indignant. “You want to shut your big mouth?”

Minho smirks, raising an eyebrow at you. “Not particularly, no.”

Hyunjin glances back and forth between the two of you, confused. “Have I missed something?”

“Just Minho thinking he’s so smart,” you sneer, grabbing your purse. “Come on.”

You turn on your heel – a movement made all the more dramatic by the office pumps you’re wearing – and head over to the counter, Hyunjin falling into step behind you.

It’s not unusual for Hyunjin to turn heads in public, and today is no exception. You catch at least two different women do a double-take as he passes them, and one guy chokes on his coffee in mid-sip. You’re not entirely certain, but you think the high school student sitting over by the window sneaks a picture of him, judging by the suspicious angle of her phone.

You try hard to suppress a smirk.

When you reach the back of the queue, you turn around to look at your shockingly pretty friend, and find him frowning in concentration, looking right up above your head at the list of specials on the wall. His hands are by his side, and you notice his fingers are tapping along to the beat of the pop song playing quietly over the café speakers.

You want to ask. You want to ask so badly about the wedding, about what happened, about how he’s feeling. But you don’t know how to do any of it delicately.

So, instead, you just smile. “Anything catch your eye, or are you sticking to your usual iced Americano?”

Hyunjin’s eyes flicker down towards you, and he smiles slightly - a quirk of his lips, a little warmth in his eyes. Performing, either on stage or amongst strangers in a social setting, Hyunjin has one of the most expressive faces you’ve ever seen. Privately, he’s far more reserved. You’ve grown an eye for the little details, the subtle things he does. “It’s probably going to be the Americano.”

“I’m shocked,” you say, returning his smile with one of your own.

His eyes linger on you for a moment, and his expression flickers, just for a second. Shifting his weight onto his other foot, he fights to keep his gaze on you. “So…I’ve been meaning to ask. Are you OK after…everything?”

You straighten up, already eager to reassure. “Yeah, I’m all good. I was saying to the other guys earlier, I’m getting everything sorted. New furniture, changing bills. All that.”

Hyunjin frowns. “That’s good, but…I mean, are you OK?”

You hesitate, caught off-guard by his question. As another customer in front of you gets their coffee, you step forward in the queue. There’s only two people in front of you now, an elderly lady with thick, tortoiseshell glasses and a guy in his thirties, briefcase in one hand and phone pressed to his ear with the other.

“…I’m better,” you say, quietly, turning away. There’s a stinging sensation prickling your eyes, and you refuse to let any tears flow while in public. You didn’t think you would still be so affected by all this. “I know it wasn’t my fault.”

Hyunjin stills, like he can’t quite comprehend your response, and his eventual words come out in almost a hiss. “What the fuck? Of course it wasn’t.”

“I know, but your brain does…stuff, sometimes. When that happens,” you say, stumbling over your words. You’d never been very good at voicing thoughts like that. “But I know better now. It wasn’t my fault.”

You could leave it at that, but it doesn’t feel quite right. The old lady in front gets her coffee, and you step forward in the queue again, mouth already opening to add more.

“And it wasn’t her fault. She didn’t know. He lied to both of us.”

You’re a little ashamed about how much you had hated that girl, the other woman, the one you caught kissing your boyfriend of four years on that cold September day in the park. You’re ashamed that you didn’t pick up on the obvious – that if your boyfriend had lied to you, of course he was lying to her too.

Scumbag.

Hyunjin falls silent, and you assume that’s the end of that.

But then, so quietly it’s almost a whisper, he murmurs. “You didn’t deserve that.”

You turn your head to stare at him, thrown. With all those thoughts of Chan’s wedding and Hyunjin’s strange exclusion still swirling in your head, you can’t help but blurt out your own thoughts.

“Neither did you.”

Hyunjin blinks, confused, and opens his mouth to respond – probably to ask you what you mean by that, or if he’s guessed exactly what you mean by that, how you came to know it in the first place.

But then, mercifully for you, the businessman in front of you steps aside, freeing the cashier, and you immediately dart forward to place your order and escape this situation your big mouth had created.

“Hi, please can I get a large iced americano, and one of your festive cookies? They’re so good, I can’t believe it. One second, let me just grab my card…”

Chan had said he was picking you up at 10am – and because it’s Chan, you knew that meant 10:15am, with a load of guilty apologies for running so late.

So, imagine your surprise when at 9:55, you hear a knock at your door.

You open your door, expecting to see a smiling Chan – bursting with pride at managing to get here early for once – only to find yourself confronted with Chan’s fiancée, dressed to the nines and towing a slightly sheepish Chan behind her.

Chan hadn’t mentioned bringing along his fiancée at all. Honestly, you’d assumed she was working, or just wouldn’t really be interested in helping you pick out coffee tables and new shelves.

“Hi,” you greet, putting on a bright smile. “This is a nice surprise.”

That’s a half-truth, at least. It’s certainly a surprise.

“Well, I was free today, and I thought I’d come along and help out. Give you a second opinion while you’re looking at your options,” she says, carefree. She gives you a brief look up and down. “Is that…have you gotten ready, or…?”

You’re fairly sure your eye just twitched. “Yep. I’m ready.”

You had thrown on a basic long-sleeved shirt, some comfortable jeans and a jacket – an acceptable outfit for a day of picking out furniture, you had thought. Chan’s fiancée, in contrast, looked like she’d stepped off a magazine shoot. Designer coat, chunky boots, Burberry scarf. You’re pretty sure that knitted beanie on her head cost more than your entire outfit combined.

She looks gorgeous – she always looks gorgeous.

How did she manage to make you feel underdressed for a trip to IKEA?

“Great,” she smiles, her nose crinkling slightly. “Well, let’s get a move on. Channie, sweetheart?”

Chan – who hadn’t managed to get a word in this entire conversation – holds up his car keys. “All set when you are.”

“Cool. Let me just grab my stuff and we’ll get going,” you say, already wandering over to where your handbag sat on the kitchen counter.

Chan’s fiancée spies it, and gasps. “Oh, that’s such a cute purse!”

You had to agree. It was one of the fancier items you owned, sleek and leather, with a cute little buckle clasp. “Thanks. It was a birthday present.”

“Oh, from…” she trails off, eyes wide. Her voice drops to a whisper when she finishes her sentence, as if afraid to upset you. “Him?”

You try not to grimace. “Yep.”

You still remembered your ex presenting you with it on your birthday, all smiles as you gushed over it and hugged him tightly and blew him after dinner.

Blew him. On your birthday.

How the hell had he managed that?

That was only a few months ago. Maybe he’d already met the other girl at that point. It hurts that you still don’t know the exact timeline of that affair. The exact day he decided to betray you.

“He had great taste in bags,” you comment, slinging it over your shoulder. “And women, apparently. That college girl was a real stunner.”

Chan’s fiancée looks a little scandalised, unsure of how to respond to a joke like that. Chan, meanwhile, is by the door, lips pressed together to stop from chuckling.

“I like making jokes about it,” you say, reassuring her. “Helps me deal. You can laugh if you want to, it makes me feel better.”

“Oh,” she says, and forces an awkward little giggle.

Points for trying, you suppose.

You slip your shoes on and follow Chan and his fiancée out the door, taking a moment to lock it behind you before making your way downstairs.

“Anything in particular that you’re looking for today?” Chan asks, looking back over his shoulder at you.

“Not much,” you say, with a shrug. “A new coffee table. A bookcase, maybe. A nice little bedside lamp. It’ll be nice to just browse and build up the aesthetic that I like, you know?”

“What kind of style are you going for?” Chan’s fiancée jumps in, intrigued.

“Uh, I’m thinking maybe a little rustic? If that’s the word?” You say, as the three of you round the last corner of the stairwell – Chan and his partner in front, you behind. “Like, dark woods and stuff. Maybe minimalist is the better word for it.”

“Oh, like farmhouse?” She asks.

You’re sure that she means well, but the way her voice falters on the word ‘farmhouse’ – and the way her lips curl – makes you think she’s not a big fan. You imagine that’s how she’d say the word ‘common’ or ‘basic’. Or ‘cheap’.

You can’t help but tense, and you think Chan might have noticed – or, at least, clocked his fiancée’s tone – because he chimes in quickly. “That sounds nice.”

You bite back the response you want to say. Yes, Chan. It does.

“Eh, we’ll see what they have,” you settle for instead, a nice neutral reply.

The conversation swiftly moves on, as the three of you climb into Chan’s car, and Chan fills you in on what’s been happening at work. He’s a songwriter – mostly for pop, but he’s done a few hip-hop related tracks here and there – and about two years ago, he got his sudden big break when a song he wrote cracked the top five on the charts. He’s written two number ones since then, and a handful of other top fives, and from what he’s allowed to mention while skirting around an NDA, he might be writing for a big group’s next album. A big group.

Maybe then he’ll start earning the money he deserves, instead of living off tiny percentages of royalties that go toward paying off his student debt and very little else.

His fiancée drops hints here and there about who he’s been working with, and who she’s seen at the studio when she goes to pick him up for lunch. You can tell how much it’s paining her to avoid spoiling any names.

You listen to it all with a smile, nodding along at every new piece of information – but honestly, now that the topic of conversation has moved away from you, you find your mind wandering back to the big question lingering in your mind.

As you sit in the backseat of the car, you imagine just blurting it out, and watching their expressions falter. Hey, so why isn’t Hyunjin invited to your wedding? Isn’t he one of Chan’s best friends? Weird.

It’s tempting, you can’t deny it. Imagining Chan’s fiancée squirm as she tries to defend the decision that was totally made by both of them, and totally not a demand she had made.

But no. You’re not about to sit here and make things awkward, not when Chan is doing you a favour. Not when he’s been so good to you during your break-up.

Maybe you’ll find time to pull him aside today, say that you need to talk to him alone. Arrange a day to meet for coffee, and ask him then, gently. Discreetly.

So, you sit there in mostly silence, chiming in only when you need to. One good thing about Chan’s fiancée is that she’s perfectly capable of holding a conversation all by herself. You could see a quality like that being quite useful for a shyer partner, like a Jisung or even a Hyunjin. Even you, honestly, on your quieter days.

But with Chan – the social butterfly he is, the extrovert that can just talk and talk to a stranger like they’re an old friend – it doesn’t quite work. It keeps him quiet, curbs his sentences until all he’s contributing is brief, short responses.

This is what you mean, when you and the other guys try to drunkenly explain why the two don’t seem to fit quite right. It’s the little things, the things you can’t really confront a friend about.

By the time Chan pulls up at IKEA, you’re so ready to get out of this car and get some air. Distract yourself with pretty little throw pillows and different shades of mahogany.

You take a deep breath as soon as you open the car door, stepping out and embracing the chilly November air with a smile. Perfect. Peace and quiet for just a second. You almost want to stand here for a few minutes more, just to bask, but Chan’s fiancée is already wandering over to the store entrance, Chan a few steps behind. He slows for just a second to look behind, stalling for just a moment, like he’s conflicted about which way to go – wait for you, or follow his partner inside.

You roll your eyes fondly, and hurry a little towards him, to save him the awkwardness of indecision.

You’re barely two steps inside the door when you’re suddenly assaulted with festive cheer. Bright lights, gaudy decorations, all-too-familiar music playing over the store’s tinny speakers.

“Oh, shit,” you say. “I keep forgetting. Christmas.”

“I know, right?” Chan’s fiancée laughs, turning towards you. “I had the same exact reaction when I realised how close our wedding date was to it. We’re hoping you guys won’t get stuck in all the holiday crowds at the airport when you fly back.”

Fuck. She’s right.

It’s a destination wedding in Bora-Bora. You suppose it’s nice that it’s fairly close to Chan’s family in Australia – but it also means that you, and pretty much everyone else that lives in the city, have to take multiple flights to get there. From what you remember when you booked the tickets – and winced at the nearly four-digit price of flights alone – a few months ago, you’re transferring at San Francisco and Tahiti.

The wedding date is December 21st. You’ll be stuck right in the middle of the holiday rush.

…Fuck, that reminds you. You need to cancel your ex’s tickets.

“What about you guys?” You ask. “And all your honeymoon stuff?”

“Oh, we’ll be fine,” Chan’s fiancée says, with a shrug. “We’re staying in Bora-Bora until after the holidays, then we’re going to Fiji, then Chan wants to stop by in Sydney and see all his family.”

“That’ll be nice,” you say, politely. “It’s a shame you can’t go to Sydney first, I know Chan hasn’t spent the holidays with his family in years.”

“Hmm. Yeah, but I don’t think he minds,” she says, glancing over at Chan – who has already wandered over to look at kitchenware. “We talked about it. There’s no point going all the way to Sydney and then all the way back to Fiji and all the little honeymoon islands. It’s just a waste of money.”

You have to bite your tongue.

It’s not your place to say anything. Not at all. It’s their honeymoon. Chan’s the one who should step in and say something, and since he hasn’t…

Well. Of course he hasn’t. It’s Chan. He’s in love. He’d break his fucking back bending over backwards for his fiancée.

You just wish he’d put himself first for once.

Sighing internally, you push that thought out of your mind and concentrate on your own business. Shopping. Shopping for furniture. That’s what you’re here for.

You spend the first few minutes wandering around, adjusting to all the sights and sounds that hit you all at once, trying to find any promising pieces. You briefly get lost in the bedroom sections, distracted by the pretty bedframes and embroidered pillowcases. Maybe you could go super feminine with your decorating – chase out all traces of your ex, once and for all.

…Nah. Maybe not the whole apartment. You’d get sick of it pretty quickly.

Still, your eyes linger, slowly comprehending the fact that so much more was available to you now. Now, you had no second person’s opinion to worry about. No one else you had to double-check with before you made a purchase.

It’s nice, in a way. Freeing.

“Hey.”

You turn, blinking, to see Chan smiling at you, hands in his pockets.

“Sorry, it feels like I haven’t really spoken to you all morning,” Chan adds, guilt creeping into his tone.

“It’s OK,” you say automatically, shrugging off his concerns.

“I saw a bookcase back there you might like,” he says, gesturing behind him. “That dark wood style thing you liked. Want to check it out?”

You smile. “Sure, lead the way.”

You fall into step beside him, as you cross the store. Chan wanders along at an easy pace, glancing over at you. “I…I’m sorry if you, you know, wanted this to be more of a quiet day thing. But when she asked, I didn’t want to just say no–”

“I get it,” you reassure him. “And it’s not like I mind having her here. I’ve been meaning to talk to her a little more, considering you guys are gonna get married. She’ll be part of the group soon.”

Chan nods. “…I hope so.”

God, you want to stop on that. You want so badly to focus on that, dissect why Chan responded like that, like he wasn’t sure.

But you don’t. Because you’re a good friend, who doesn’t cause a scene in an IKEA store.

“And besides,” you say, following Chan’s lead as he takes a right down an aisle between two chic, avant-garde living room sets. “I get why she’d be a little off if you said no. Being alone with another girl, spending the day shopping together.”

“Oh, don’t worry,” Chan says, waving off your concerns. “She doesn’t see you as–”

He cuts himself off, suddenly, realising how that sounds.

But you can finish the sentence for him.

She doesn’t see you as a threat.

Good, you want to say. What kind of fucking asshole would you be to steal someone’s fiancé? Especially when you yourself had just ended a relationship because of cheating?

But you hate that there’s a small, contrary part of you that demands to know why. Why aren’t you a threat? You’re pretty. You’ve known Chan a while. You could be a threat, if you really wanted to, you decide with no small amount of pettiness.

“That’s good, that you two have that trust,” you say, instead.

You are not expecting Chan’s sudden falter, the way his smile slips for just a second.

Holy shit, what was that?

He recovers almost immediately – his slip-up disappearing in barely a blink of an eye – and you glance away, as if you hadn’t noticed at all.

“Yeah,” he agrees. “We trust each other.”

You nod, because you’re afraid what will come out if you try to open your mouth. Because holy shit, apparently they don’t–

“Oh! Here it is!” Chan says, coming to a stop.

You blink, thrown for a second, before following his gaze.

And there it is.

The perfect bookcase.

It’s tall, the wood a lovely shade that kind of reminds you of coffee. You could picture it clearly in your living room, your books arranged neatly in it, your albums, your knickknacks.

“Oh, wow,” you murmur, quietly. In awe. “You’re right, that’s…that’s exactly what I was looking for.”

Chan turns to you, a proud grin on his face – the happiest expression you’d seen him wear all day.

You dig your phone out of your pocket, hurriedly making a note of the name and the price on your phone. It’s even well within your budget, this really is perfect.

“Thank you,” you say, elated, sliding your phone back into your pocket. “You’ve got great–”

“There you guys are!”

Both of you turn to see Chan’s fiancée strolling over, one hand on her hip. The other hand – her free hand, the one with the shiny silver ring that cost Chan half a year’s wages and a second loan – curls around Chan’s arm, hugging his bicep.

“Sorry, we were about to head back to you,” Chan says, his smile turning sheepish. “Did you find any good decorations?”

“Eh. Some were OK, nothing really stood out,” she says, pouting a little. “I think my dad’s taking us shopping next week uptown. We should find something good there.”

Her gaze then slides to you, and then to the bookcase you’re standing in front of. She tilts her head at it. “Is that the one you’re getting?”

You look back at it. “Yep, probably.”

You deserve an Oscar for managing to keep the edge out of your voice on that response.

“Ah, I see it. It’s very you,” she smiles.

Is that…a compliment?

Suddenly, she spins around to look up at Chan, eyes wide. “Oh! Baby, that reminds me. I saw a really cute little kitchen set for us in the homeware section. Do you want to head over there and we’ll catch up in a minute?”

Chan pauses for a second, but eventually nods, a little confused. “Uh, yeah, sure. I’ll see you over there.”

“Great,” she smiles, giving his bicep one last little squeeze before withdrawing her hand.

He returns her smile, eyes warm even as she turns away, and gives you one last nod before heading off towards homeware.

And then, as he slips out of earshot, she turns to you – and you dread the worst.

No, I wasn’t flirting with your fiancé.

Yes, I’m getting this fucking bookcase, whether you hate it or not.

No, I’m not interested in stealing your–

“I just wanted to see how you’re coping,” she says, eyes wide with sympathy, and you can’t help but feel guilty.

Oh.

“I’m doing fine,” you say, voice softening. You can’t believe you were dreading the worst from her, and all she wanted was to check if you were OK.

“Good! That’s good! I have to say, I was so worried about you. You two were together for so long, and for him to just…ew,” she says, scandalised. “Men can be so vile.”

“Yup, no arguments there.”

“I’m so glad I found a good one in Chan,” she says, brightly. “Like he’d ever dare do something like that. And with a college girl? Gross.”

“…Yep,” you say, nodding along. She’s right, it was certainly…gross. “He was a real asshole.”

“I’m glad you’re doing OK,” she says, and to your surprise, she reaches over to grab your hand. She squeezes it lightly, gently, like a friend would.

You blink, a little struck by how sincere she is. “…Thank you.”

She smiles, so very sympathetic – and then, she opens her mouth again. “So, I need to ask you a tiny favour. I didn’t want to say anything at first, in case you were still super upset. But because you’re doing so well, I figured…well, it couldn’t hurt to ask…”

Your brow furrows, at this sudden turn in conversation. “Ask what?”

“Well…” she trails off, looking just a little sheepish – it’s an expression you’ve never seen on her face before, and it just doesn’t seem to sit quite right. “I assume you’re not using your +1 anymore, right? Is there any chance…well, it’s just that my side needs all the seats they can get and–”

“Sorry,” you interrupt, trying to absorb her words. “Are you…are you asking me to give back the +1?”

“No, don’t say it like that! You’re not giving anything back, I just…you know, I just need to know if I can fit in another one of my family members. We’re at full capacity so, you know, any free spaces would be super helpful! You understand, right?”

…Holy shit.

You know she probably doesn’t get how this comes across. You know she’s probably so caught up in wedding plans that maybe the sheer fucking audacity of her asking this, right after being sounding so sympathetic about your break-up, hasn’t crossed her mind.

But all you can hear is oh, I’m so sorry to hear your boyfriend cheated on you and broke your heart, but since you’re coming to the wedding alone now, it’s inconvenient to just let you keep the +1. You understand, right?

You know you should say yes. If you want to be the bigger person, if you want to make Chan’s future wife happy, if you want to make sure his wedding goes smoothly, if you want to do the objectively right thing, you should say yes.

But…

It’s just all the little things, you think. The things you can’t confront a friend about. The condescending way she corrected you on interior design. The way she cuts across Chan when he’s about to speak. Expecting guests to take three different flights in the middle of the holiday rush to come to the wedding, without a second thought to expenses.

It’s petty – it’s so petty – but you say it anyway.

“Actually, I am using the +1,” you say, with a shrug, pulling your hand out of her grip. “Sorry.”

She blinks, shocked, as if this possibility hadn’t even crossed her mind.

And then, she grimaces, and you realise that look is supposed to be sympathy.

“I’m really sorry, but you can only use +1s for partners or family,” she says. “We’ve already had to say no to so many of our family when they want to bring friends, it wouldn’t be fair if you–”

“He is my partner,” you blurt out, before you can stop yourself. Fuck it. Might as well go all in. “Sorry, I…yeah. I’m planning to bring my new boyfriend.”

And if she was shocked before, now she’s staring at you, jaw dropped. “…What? I thought you only broke up with…like, two months ago?”

“It’s a new relationship,” you say, and suddenly, a devious plan is forming in your mind. You shouldn’t. You really shouldn’t. You know it. But fuck it.

Maybe you should have let Chan spend Christmas with his family, you spoilt little brat.

“But I’ve known him for years. He was really there for me, when…when it all happened,” you say, voice straining a little, sounding so very emotional.

“What? Who?”

And you can’t help, you can’t help but take a little delight in watching her reaction when you finally reply.

“Hyunjin,” you say, and her face falls.

She stares at you.

You stare back, trying your best to look innocent, like you’re not scanning every inch of her face, committing her expression to memory.

And then, with a voice you’ve never heard from her before, she snaps.

“What?!”

You: i may or may not have done something dumb

Hyunjin: …what do you mean?

Hyunjin: define dumb?

You: …

You: uh

You: well

You: what are you doing on the 21st?

Hyunjin: …the 21st what

You: …21st december?

Hyunjin: …

You: got any plans around then? bc uh if not…

Hyunjin: …

Hyunjin: wtf have you done?

“I can’t believe this,” Hyunjin says, staring at you.

You arranged an emergency meeting at your usual café, and Hyunjin had stormed in with a wild look in his eye, barely even glancing at the iced coffee you had already bought for him.

Immediately, you had launched into your explanation. Everything that had happened, all your hang-ups about how Chan’s fiancée had acted, that one moment when you just needed to do something to get back at her.

And Hyunjin had just stared at you, shocked into silence.

“I mean…if you think about it in a certain way,” you say, trying to force a smile. “It’s…it could be funny?”

Hyunjin closes his eyes, his hand reaching up to pinch the bridge of his nose.

“Come on. My ex already gave me the money for his ticket months ago, I’d be wasting it otherwise. It’s…it’s basically a free vacation to Bora-Bora!”

“You mean, the most fucking awkward vacation of my life?” Hyunjin corrects you, opening one eye to glare at you. “And I’d be doing it for free? Gee, thanks.”

“It’s not going to be that awkward–”

“They don’t want me there,” Hyunjin states, cold.

You falter. “…I mean, I’m sure Chan wants you there.”

Hyunjin sighs, closing his eyes again for one brief second, before moving his hand away and reopening them. “…You and I both know that that doesn’t really matter, does it?”

God, you can’t help it. You have to ask.

“…Why doesn’t she want you there?”

Hyunjin’s face is like stone. Cold, immovable. His hand falls to the table. “It doesn’t matter why. I’m fine. I don’t even want to be there.”

You frown, eyeing him for a second. He stares back, challenging, refusing to back down.

“…That’s not true,” you eventually say, but it’s not accusing. It’s confused. Because you know that Hyunjin is lying. It’s like…an intuition, a gut feeling, a sense picked up from the tiniest flicker of his expression, the subtlest hints of his body language. Nearly a decade of friendship tells you that Hyunjin is lying his ass off.

He’s caught off-guard, just for a fraction of a second, before he frowns even deeper. “I’m not going.”

“But…we can’t just let her win,” you say, and there’s a new venom in your tone. “You really want to just…miss your best friend’s wedding? For what? Because some brat kicked up a fuss about it?”

“Why do you care so much?” Hyunjin asks.

The words come out in one sudden burst of anger. “Because it doesn’t stop here!”

You snap your mouth shut, but it’s too late. Your thoughts – your innermost worries, the ones that linger at the back of your mind, that haunt your worst ideas of the future – have already been spoken.

Hyunjin pauses. “…What do you mean?”

“She stops Chan inviting you to the wedding. OK, maybe next year she persuades him not to invite Minho and Jisung to their anniversary party. After that, maybe she says she doesn’t want me at her baby shower, or Changbin at their Christmas party, or Felix at his birthday. Maybe, when he’s done all that, when he slowly steps away from us, maybe she wants to move away. Get the kids in a good school district, or…maybe just abroad. Out of the country. Fresh start. And Chan will do it, because he’s never said no before. Because we never said no before. That…”

You stop, because your voice is starting to strain, because tears are starting to prickle at the back of your eyes.

“...I know that might not happen, and it might just be this once,” you finally say, swallowing. “But it…might not be. I don’t like this. I don’t like the power she has over him. I know where it could lead.”

You look up. Hyunjin is staring at you, lips parted, and there’s an awful look in his eye that you know is mirrored in your own expression.

“And I think you know that too,” you finish, quietly.

Hyunjin is silent. The two of you stare at each other, but this time, it’s not in challenge. It’s in understanding.

And, finally, he relents.

With a sigh – a long, tired sigh – Hyunjin nods. “OK. I’ll go with you.”

You relax, so utterly relieved, and give him a smile. “Thank you.”

He waves away your thanks, leaning back in his seat, and finally allows himself to take the iced coffee on the table. Bringing the straw up to his mouth, Hyunjin mumbles to himself. “Anything else you want to suddenly spring on me?”

“Uh…” you say, smile fading as you can’t help but feel a little guilty. “You might have to be my boyfriend?”

Hyunjin’s eyes widen at you, before he chokes on his coffee, pitching forward as he coughs loudly. “W-what?”

You try to stay calm, but at the sight of his reaction, heat begins to creep into your cheeks. “I could only bring you as a partner, apparently. Well, or as a family member, but I’m pretty sure she would have gotten suspicious if I suddenly claimed you were my long-lost brother. So…you know. Boyfriend.”

You finish with a forced, nonchalant little shrug, but that does little to reassure Hyunjin as his coughing subsides, and he’s back to staring at you. A few loose tendrils of his hair had shaken loose, falling forward, gently framing his slightly flushed face.

It’s at that moment, for the very first time, you feel the slightest unease at what you’ve done.

Is this too far?

Swallowing, you try to push this down. Too late now.

Instead, you give him the smallest of grins, and rest your chin on your hand. “Come on, Hyunjin. Be my fake boyfriend.”

He doesn’t look particularly convinced.

Slowly, you push your plate – one lone, festive cookie resting innocently on it – towards him, inch by inch. “Come on, ‘Jinnie. Be my fake boyfriend?”

Despite his best efforts, the corners of Hyunjin’s lips begin to twitch.

“Please?” You ask, drawing out the word, sliding the plate over bit by bit, like a sordid bribe. “It’ll be fun…”

He hesitates. You can see it, the brief moment of conflict in his eyes as his gaze dips to the table. The way his mouth opens, like he’s about to speak. The way he pauses, before his eyes dart up to meet yours.

“…And you’re OK with that?” Hyunjin asks, finally. “You’re still…you know, things might still be a bit…fresh.”

You pause – because, honestly, you hadn’t considered that. When you’d thought about starting this whole façade for the wedding, you’d barely glossed over it. It had been so matter of fact, barely a factor in your overall plan. Hyunjin needs to be at the wedding, therefore Hyunjin has to be called your boyfriend, no big deal.

You let yourself think about it now – really think about it. Introducing Hyunjin as your boyfriend to strangers. You’ll probably have to dance with him at the reception. Share a hotel room. Hold hands.

Everything you would have done with your ex, in another life. In another timeline – a better timeline – where he didn’t cheat, where you would be happy and in love and not…alone.

Could you do that?

“…I’ll be OK,” you say, trying your best to sound certain. “It’s…I’m glad it’s with you. It’s not…you know, it’s not like you’re a stranger. If it’s too much, you’ll take care of me.”

Hyunjin’s eyes soften at your words, and he slowly reaches past the cookie plate to take your hand. And when he squeezes, you realise just how wrong you’d been with Chan’s fiancée. This. This is how it feels when a friend holds your hand – when someone who genuinely cares for you and loves you holds your hand.

“I will,” he promises, with a smile.

You stay like that for a moment, hands intertwined, smiling at each other, before he eventually pulls away, taking the cookie plate with him.

It’s like a weight has been lifted from your chest, as you realise that you’ve gotten Hyunjin on board, that you might have actually gotten away with this.

It’s a little strange though, you think. You had assumed that relief would soothe the butterflies in your stomach.

And yet the sensation remains, as you watch Hyunjin take a bite of that cookie, a soft smile on his face.

It’s only a day later, when you head over to Hyunjin’s apartment to give him his plane tickets and hotel information, that you feel the first consequence of your plan.

It is not one that you expected.

You hear them when you round the corner along Hyunjin’s hallway, envelope in hand. Muffled voices, growing clearer and clearer as you draw near.

Hyunjin’s is the first you make out.

Chan is the second.

And they are…loud.

But you only stop in your tracks when you hear Chan’s voice, audibly hurt, through the walls. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t think it was any of your business,” came Hyunjin’s response.

They could, theoretically, be talking about anything.

But as you stand there, hovering by the door, you have a sneaking suspicion that you know exactly what they’re talking about.

Chan’s voice is quieter. The hurt is even greater, curling in each of his words like a wounded animal drawing in on itself. “Hyunjin, you…you know why you should have told me.”

“Do I? The only thing I know is you’re getting married.”

“Hyunjin–”

“Because I’m pretty sure that makes our relationship absolutely none of your business. Am I wrong?”

There’s a long, drawn-out moment of silence. You’re even in the same room, and you can feel the tension brewing.

Finally, Chan speaks. “You should have told me. I didn’t…I didn’t even know you two were that close.”

“Maybe if you’d been around more, you would have noticed.”

“That’s not fair. I was–”

“With your fiancée? The woman you’re marrying? Or did you forget?”

Chan’s response is explosive. Furious. “Hyunjin–”

You panic, darting forward to stop this argument before it can get any worse, and your fist shoots up to knock on the door.

Silence. A pause. No sounds of a scuffle.

You knock again, a little calmer, and you manage to pluck up the courage to speak. “Hyunjin? You there?”

Another pause.

And then, footsteps.

You swallow, bracing yourself, as you hear the door unlock – swinging open to reveal Hyunjin, flushed from exertion, very clearly still animated from his shouting match with Chan.

“Uh,” you say, a little wary. “Is this a bad–”

“Hey, jagiya,” he greets, voice gentle and syrupy-sweet. Before you even have time to blink, he’s leaning forward, and you’re shocked speechless as he wraps an arm around your waist and presses a kiss to your forehead.

Hyunjin just…

…What?

He pulls away, but his arm still stays around you. “I was just saying to Chan,” Hyunjin says, with barely a nod of his head in Chan’s direction, eyes still fixed on you. You, however, immediately follow his movement to see Chan standing there, staring at the two of you. “I’m excited to finally start telling people we’re together.”

This…this was not part of your plan.

This had never been part of your plan.

In your plan, Chan is in on the ruse. All of your friends are in on the ruse. The only people fooled would be Chan’s fiancée and her side of the wedding party. And even then, once the ceremony is over, the two of you could just go back to normal, and it would be too late for Chan’s partner to say anything.

But Hyunjin is staring at you very pointedly, and his hand begins to rub circles into the small of your back.

“…So am I,” you finally say, tearing your eyes away from Chan to look at Hyunjin. “Honestly, I…I’m still not used to it. How am I still so awkward?”

“Don’t worry about it. It’s not like anyone’s going to be that surprised,” Hyunjin teases – and then, his gaze slides right over to Chan, who is still staring at the two of you, silent. “Right, Chan?”

He doesn’t reply immediately – honestly, you’re not sure he can, because his face is just so…

You can’t even describe it. There’s hurt, there’s still lingering traces of anger, there’s a hint in the way he clenches his jaw and his eyes burn a hole through both of you that he’s trying to contain himself on some level, but clearly not quite enough.

And then, with visible difficulty, he forces his expression to smooth out into something vaguely approaching neutral, and gives you a nod. “…Right.”

Before you can stop yourself, you blurt out something – anything – to try to alleviate the guilt slowly building in the pit of your stomach. “I…I’m sorry I didn’t tell you earlier. It’s just…with it being so soon after…”

Chan nods again, and before long, he manages to give you a brief look of reassurance. It’s almost laughably weak. “I get it. It’s…it’s OK. As long as you two are happy, I…”

He pauses, glancing away.

“I’m happy for you,” he finishes, quietly.

“Good,” Hyunjin says, tilting his head so it rests comfortably against your own. “Thank you.”

Chan’s gaze snaps up to meet Hyunjin’s, and the two share an uncomfortable moment of eye contact, before Chan eventually turns to you and smiles.

“I’ve got to get going, but…I’ll see you around?”

“Of course,” you say, trying hard to inject as much friendly warmth into your tone as possible. You almost move to wave him off, maybe hug him goodbye, before you second-guess yourself. Would you – like, relationship you – do that? Shrug off your boyfriend’s arm to see someone off? Would that be suspicious?

You take too long deliberating, as Chan walks past you, with barely a backwards glance at Hyunjin as he opens the front door and makes his exit.

As soon as the door shuts, you spring away from Hyunjin, spinning around on the spot to stare at him. “What was that?”

Hyunjin shrugs, perfectly nonchalant. “Fake boyfriend, right?”

“For the wedding, yeah,” you say, still a little stunned. “But…we’re just faking it for Chan’s fiancée, I figured there’s no need to lie to Chan.”

“You ever tried to get Chan to keep a secret?” Hyunjin asks, one eyebrow raised. The arm that was once around you now slides into his pocket. “Especially from his fiancée?”

…Right.

Thinking a little deeper about it, you realise where Hyunjin is coming from. Expecting Chan to keep this a secret – to keep any secret from his fiancée, right before their wedding?

It’s a bit much to ask.

Still, you think, as you eye Hyunjin carefully. That argument you heard, the words they’d thrown at each other…

That wasn’t nothing.

Something about this doesn’t quite add up.

But you suppose you can’t do much about that right now. The best thing you can do is go along with it, and keep your eyes and ears open for any little hint that might clue you in on this strange situation.

“I see your point,” you say, nodding slightly. “But what about the others? They’ve seen us interact recently, they’re going to know something’s up.”

Hyunjin considers your words, and eventually nods. “True. We can tell them, I can’t see any of them turning around and blabbing to Chan or his fiancée.”

“Especially when they got that angry that you hadn’t been invited in the first place,” you agree.

Hyunjin blinks, surprised.

You worry for a moment that you’ve slipped up, that maybe they weren’t supposed to know, or weren’t supposed to be spreading it about or–

“They were angry?” Hyunjin asks, voice quieting just a little.

“Well, yeah. Obviously,” you say. “You’re our friend.”

He smiles, looking genuinely a little touched. “…Yeah, I am.”

“You are. So, now that we’re in agreement,” you say, changing the subject before things got too mushy and embarrassing. “Time to get down to business. Here’s all your plane tickets and hotel stuff.”

You hand him the envelope, before turning on your heel and walking towards his kitchen. Hyunjin follows, and you hear the sound of the envelope tearing open behind you. You take a seat at his table, turning your head to watch him as he studies the tickets – and his head immediately snaps up to stare at you.

“We’re transferring twice?” he asks, appalled.

“Turns out that Bora-Bora is in the middle of fucking nowhere,” you mutter, rolling your eyes. “Nice beaches, though.”

“Fuck, that’s going to be a long travel day,” Hyunjin groans, falling into the seat next to you, dropping the envelope onto the table in front of him.

“There and back, remember?”

He groans again, louder. “Is it too late to pull out of this?”

“Maybe you could have about…” you pause, consulting your imaginary watch on your bare wrist. “Oh, about ten minutes ago. Whoops, not now, though.”

Hyunjin sighs, and keeps flicking through the tickets, arranging them into two piles – the journey there, and the journey back.

“And before I forget,” you suddenly declare, pointing at Hyunjin again. “We need to come up with a backstory.”

“A backstory?”

“Yeah. Like, how we got together. When we started, who asked who out, what our first date was. It’s gonna look real suspicious if we give different answers to that kind of stuff,” you point out.

“Fair enough,” Hyunjin says, with a nod. “What were you thinking?”

“Well, obviously, we only started dating recently,” you begin, tilting your head in thought. Your fingers drum against the marble tabletop. “I told Chan’s fiancée that we got together because you were there for me when the break-up happened. We could play the rebound card.”

Hyunjin considers this. “…Would that mean I asked you out, then?”

“…Nah,” you decide. That sounds too much like Hyunjin swooping in and taking advantage. He deserves better than that in your fictional backstory. “I asked you out. And you turned me down the first time.”

“Because I thought you were still into your ex.”

“Yup,” you say, and you’re happy that there’s almost no sting to his words. Time hasn’t quite healed those wounds, but they’re definitely closing. “You figured I was just after some rebound sex.”

Hyunjin laughs, turning fully in his chair to face you. His elbow comes up to the table, and he leans against it to raise an eyebrow at you. “But then you changed my mind?”

“Obviously.”

He tilts his head, eyes warm. “You asked me out a second time, on an actual date this time. Maybe you said it was for practice, or something. To help you get back into the game.”

“Oh, that’s cute. It’s a chill first date. I’m still hurting. I get all dressed up for the first time in weeks, you take me to the movies or something.”

Hyunjin shakes his head. “I don’t take people to movies on the first date. You can’t talk properly, it gets awkward.”

“But would fictional Hyunjin take me to the movies on a first date?”

“Fictional Hyunjin would take you to that Cuban place a few blocks down from your place. Classy enough that you dress up, not too classy that it gets weirdly formal and stilted. And there’s dancing,” Hyunjin adds, grinning slightly. “Fictional Hyunjin takes you dancing.”

“Fictional me would absolutely not dance and make a fool of herself on the first date.”

“Fictional Hyunjin would talk you into it, just to see you laugh,” Hyunjin argues, before his voice drops slightly, growing sincere. “You haven’t laughed in a while.”

You pause. You want to ask which you he means – fictional you, or real you.

You have a feeling, from the look in his eyes, that you already know what his answer would be.

“…Fine. Fictional me dances. It’s embarrassing, and clumsy, and I step on your feet at least twice.”

“Fictional Hyunjin doesn’t mind too much.”

“We split the bill, because fictional me demands it. Then, we go home, and…”

You trail off. Hyunjin’s eyes are on you, watching closely, expression unreadable.

You swallow. “…We don’t have sex on the first date.”

“Who stops it?” Hyunjin asks, curious.

“…I do, before you can. We both agree it’s a bad idea.”

Hyunjin smiles slightly. “I’d ask for a second date.”

“I’d say yes.”

A moment of silence falls between the two of you. It feels natural, comfortable, like a pause for breath before a next sentence.

You take in the sight of Hyunjin, as he sits there beside you. His hair is partially tied back, in what was once probably a tight ponytail, but is now slightly looser – leaving him looking a little more relaxed, a little more dishevelled. He’s wearing a simple, fitted black button-up shirt. You’re not fashion-savvy enough to tell if it’s expensive or not, but it looks nice – his first two buttons undone, exposing his collarbones. In that little detail alone, you can feel the difference between this and the usual work attire you see him in. This is what he wears at home, what he finds comfortable.

You’re still looking at each other, you realise.

You clear your throat and glance away. “We probably don’t need to plan out the second date.”

“Right,” Hyunjin says. “I guess no one asks about the second date.”

“Right,” you repeat, nodding. “So, to recap. We started dating just over a month ago. I asked you out. We went to a Cuban restaurant and danced. It was really nice.”

“Yeah,” Hyunjin says, looking down as he carefully slides his flight tickets back in the envelope. “It sounds like it was.”

Felix stares at the two of you, eyes wide, looking as if you’d just performed some kind of divine miracle. “…Sorry, what?”

It’s seven o’clock in the evening, and the eight of you are squeezed into a booth table at a neon-lit 50s-Americana-style diner, just a few blocks away from the shitty apartment blocks most of you lived in during college. It was one of your favourite old haunts, just a little too far away from your current place to visit regularly, but you try to make the effort as often as you can.

“I said, I got Hyunjin an invite to the wedding,” you say, jabbing your thumb towards the man in question, who was studying the drinks menu beside you. “Just on one…uh, teeny tiny condition.”

“Condition? What, did you sell your firstborn child?” Jisung asks, from across the table, before cracking up at his own joke.

“Close,” you respond, deadpan.

Hyunjin sets the menu down, glancing up at Jisung, and very deliberately takes your hand. You both hold up your joined hands, making a very clear visible statement.

“If anyone asks,” Hyunjin says, perfectly calm. “We’re dating.”

Minho frowns, brow furrowing. “What?”

“Hyunjin’s my +1,” you explain. “And, apparently, you’re only allowed to bring partners as your +1. So, therefore…partner.”

You point at Hyunjin with your free hand, and he nods solemnly.

“And she just…” Jeongin trails off, confused, “let this happen?”

You shrug, dropping your hands. “Yeah. I mean, she was shocked but…after that, she didn’t kick up any big fuss about it. We were in public at the time, though.”

“Smart move,” Seungmin notes, looking thoughtful.

…Yes. That was a smart, and totally intentional at the time, move of yours.

“So…yeah. No big deal. Just if anyone at the wedding asks, me and Hyunjin are dating,” you say. And then, taking a deep breath, you add that extra complication. “…Including Chan.”

Immediately, the table descends into chaos.

“Wait, what?”

“Chan?”

“Chan doesn’t know?”

“We figured,” Hyunjin cuts in, voice level, “that we shouldn’t ask Chan to lie to his fiancée right before their wedding. We’ll tell him as soon as the wedding’s over, it’s not like he loses anything here.”

This argument, and Hyunjin’s careful, simple delivery of it, does much to quell the initial shock around the table.

“…Makes sense,” Minho says. “Chan gets to have all his best friends there, and he doesn’t have to lie about it.”

“He shouldn’t have to lie,” Felix mutters, darkly. “They should have just invited everyone, and not caused all this drama in the first place.”

“I mean, yeah,” Jeongin says, glancing at Felix for a second. “But this works. Like you said, no big deal.”

The rest of the table nod along, voicing their own affirmations, agreeing to the plan.

All except Changbin, who has been sitting in silence since the very beginning, eyeing the two of you very carefully. His gaze fixes on you first, scrutinising you, before it slowly slides over to Hyunjin, presumably to do the same.

There’s a beat of silence.

“…I’m heading out to get some fresh air,” Changbin finally says. “Why don’t you two join me?”

Oh, shit.

There is a frighteningly solemn expression on Changbin’s face, a stark contrast to his usual easy-going smile.

You get up out of your seat immediately, eager to follow him and start pleading your case. Hyunjin takes another second, but eventually pushes himself up to his feet to join you in following Changbin out of the diner.

You step out into the cold night air, shivering in the frosty early December winds, and for a moment, you regret not bringing your scarf out with you.

Then, Changbin turns to face you both, and any thoughts of temperature leave you entirely.

The corners of his mouth have turned downwards, not quite into a frown, but close enough.

“…Chan thinks the two of you are dating?” Changbin finally asks, and his eyes are fixed on Hyunjin. You know objectively that there is a height difference between the two, but the intensity of Changbin’s look seems to erase it entirely.

Hyunjin lowers his chin slightly, meeting Changbin’s eye. “Yep.”

You’re reminded, in that moment, of the first few months of your friendship group. Back then, there was a strangeness to it, two smaller groups that had only just merged together, the few satellite friends that tried to find their place alongside them. You had been one of those outsiders, together with Seungmin and Jeongin. The rest were split into two – Felix and his dance class friends, Chan and the music production friends he’d had since high school. Chan and Felix had clicked straight away, a shared sense of being strangers in a strange land, away from their families. Minho and Jisung had almost immediately fallen into their strange cat-and-mouse friendship.

Hyunjin, however, took a while to warm up to. He and Jisung had clashed in the beginning.

And because of that, you remember, watching the two of them stare each other down, so had Hyunjin and Changbin.

“And you’re not going to tell him the truth,” he says, and this time, that’s definitely a frown on his face, “because you’re…concerned about how it will affect his marriage?”

“…Who wouldn’t be?” Hyunjin replies, easily.

You wait for him to add something, to really make your case for this last remaining holdout in Changbin. But all Hyunjin does is stare him down. It’s not quite a challenging look, but there’s a strange gleam in his eye.

Yet another odd detail you have to file away in your mind. Another piece of this strange puzzle, still completely unsolvable.

Turning back to Changbin, you’re forced to take matters into your own hands.

“Bin,” you say, drawing his attention away from Hyunjin and towards you. “I get that this isn’t…the best plan. It’s not ethical, it’s not even that well thought-out. But Felix was right, we shouldn’t have to do this at all. We’re just trying to fix a problem here. Would you please help us?”

Changbin stays quiet, deliberating. He glances back to Hyunjin, then to you, before eventually – with one slow exhale – Changbin nods. “Fine. I’ll go along with this.”

You beam, reaching over to squeeze his hand in gratitude. “Thank you, ‘Bin.”

“I know you’ve got good intentions,” he says, and there’s real sincerity in his tone – before he glances over at Hyunjin. “And you’re telling Chan everything as soon as the wedding’s over. Right?”

“Of course,” you say, insistent.

Hyunjin just smiles at Changbin. “What she said.”

You’re about to double-down on this, when something catches your attention out the corner of your eye, through the window of the diner. You turn your head to see three curious faces peeking up from behind the booth, watching your conversation.

Felix is the first to react, having the grace to flush with embarrassment as he turns his head. Jeongin follows suit, averting his eyes awkwardly and settling back down in his seat.

Minho, however, continues to stare openly, utterly unbothered at you catching him in the act.

You roll your eyes, but before you can say anything, Changbin speaks – drawing your attention right back to him.

“I’m asking because Chan’s one of my best friends,” Changbin says, before pausing. As if weighing up his next words. “…He tells me everything.”

Hyunjin tilts his head, eyes alight again. “Does he?”

“Yes. He does,” Changbin replies, serious, and there’s a very pointed edge in his words.

Hyunjin’s expression flickers, falters, for the briefest of seconds.

And then, very slowly, his gaze slides over to you, and he hums. “…Interesting.”

You see Changbin’s brow furrow slightly, as he follows Hyunjin’s stare, and blinks when it rests on you. For the first time in this entire conversation, you recognise the emotion in Changbin’s eyes.

Confusion.

“It’s nice to hear that you and Chan are at that level,” Hyunjin remarks, lightly. “A little surprising, though. Chan always strikes me as a pretty private guy. Who knows what could be going on in his head, right?”

Your phone rings in the middle of your grocery shopping trip, just as you’re picking up some bits and pieces to tide you over until your flight next week. When you check the screen, you’re a little surprised to see Hyunjin’s name flash up, and you take the call immediately.

“Hello?” You greet, concerned, preparing yourself for an emergency.

“So, do we have to get a wedding present for the happy couple?” Hyunjin’s voice comes through the phone, brimming with mischief. “Because I’m literally standing in front of the most obnoxious set of salad spinners I’ve ever seen in my life.”

You blink, surprised, and it take a second for your brain to compute.

No emergency?

“…Hello?” Hyunjin says, when you don’t respond.

You manage to recover quickly, blurting out a response that is just a touch too honest. “Sorry! I was just surprised, you never call.”

Hyunjin’s silence on the other end of the phone only lasts for a moment, but it’s enough to have you second-guessing yourself – until his response comes, a little softer. “Well, let’s change that.”

“Yeah,” you say, as you slowly begin to smile. “I mean, sure. We can change that.”

“Good. So, back to these salad spinners.”

“I mean, I already bought them something off their gift registry a few months ago,” you tell him, shifting your phone over to your shoulder as you push your shopping cart. “But…how obnoxious are we talking?”

“‘Lettuce celebrate’. ‘Please don’t leaf me hanging’…”

“Oh no, don’t tell me those are written on the side?”

“‘Don’t look, I’m not dressed yet’,” Hyunjin reads, solemnly, like he’s quoting an ancient poet. “‘If you were a vegetable, you’d be a cute-cumber’.”

“Buy them. Buy them all.”

“Don’t tempt me.”

You crack up, grabbing your phone again before it slips out between your neck and shaking shoulders – and you realise Hyunjin was right the other day. It does feel like a while since you last laughed like this. It’s a strange sensation, almost like you’re stretching out some unused muscles, or like something was constricting your chest and is finally starting to loosen its grip.

It’s nice. Maybe a little sad to think about, but nice.

“Hey.”

You jump, spinning around to face the direction this sudden greeting came from – and you find Chan standing there, shopping basket in hand, an unreadable expression on his face.

“Hi,” you reply, caught off-guard, phone still in hand. “This is a surprise. I didn’t think you shopped here.”

You can just about to stop yourself from adding ‘now’ to the end of that sentence. Ever since Chan moved in with his fiancée uptown, you figure his grocery shopping now comes from the high-end, expensive little stores – a far cry from his early years of stocking up on corner-store ramen and clipping coupons.

“Who are you talking to?” Hyunjin’s voice through the phone jolts you out of your thoughts.

In front of you, you watch Chan turn sheepish when he notices the phone by your ear. “Sorry, I didn’t see you were on the phone. Is that…?”

“Chan?”

“Hyunjin?”

You’re scrambling for words, thrown off by the two simultaneous conversations you’ve found yourself in.

“Uh…yeah. I…sorry, let me call you back,” you manage to mumble into your phone, before you remember to add. “Babe.”

Hyunjin is silent as you hang up, and there’s a strange flicker of guilt in the pit of your stomach as you pocket your phone. You’ll call him back as soon as you’re finished talking with Chan, you decide.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to…” Chan trails off, gesturing to your phone vaguely, before his gaze drifts back up to your face. “I just wanted to talk to you. If that’s OK?”

“Of course it is,” you say. “You don’t have to ask, Chan. We’re friends!”

Chan’s smile is sincere enough, but there’s just a hint of strain to it.

“I know. But…uh, I just wanted to…” Chan takes a deep breath, and his next words come rushing out. “I’m sorry that I haven’t been there for you these last few months.”

You blink.

What?

“Chan, what are you talking about? You’ve been great.”

“It wasn’t enough.”

“Chan, you’ve got a full-time job and you’ve been planning a wedding. I’m not expecting you to just drop your whole life for me.”

Your next words catch in your throat, sticking for just a second before you manage to get them out. “I wouldn’t want you to do that.”

Because you wouldn’t.

You’re sure of that.

Regardless of the misgivings you have about Chan’s life right now, the choices he’s making, the person he’s…

You clamp down on that thought before you can finish it.

It’s his life. You have no right to interfere with it.

“You did more than enough,” you tell him.

You’re more than enough, you want to tell him.

Chan stares at you, and your chest aches a little at the look in his eyes.

He’s not convinced.

Chan glances down, an anxious habit you know he’s been trying to fix for years now. He does it whenever he needs to ask a difficult question, a question he’s been stewing on for days.

“…Why didn’t you tell me about you and Hyunjin?”

…Fuck.

There’s no good explanation. You’re scrambling for one, but it’s impossible. Of course it is, because the only reason you didn’t tell Chan was because you and Hyunjin aren’t really dating.

If you were, of course you’d tell Chan. You’d tell him before you even had your first date.

This is why you wanted Chan in on the ruse. You knew that it just didn’t make sense otherwise. You knew he’d find it too suspicious that you kept everything so quiet.

Maybe he’s already figured it out. Maybe he’s waiting for you to finally come clean.

You swallow. “Chan–”

Suddenly, Chan’s expression flickers. His eyes dim, and his lips press together in a thin line. “Did Hyunjin tell you not to?”

Your eyes widen. “What?”

You don’t mean it to come out so sharp, but you’re so thrown off by this sudden question.

Chan squares his shoulder, straightening up – and you realise how your response sounded. Panicked. Guilty, almost.

Confirming his suspicions.

He sighs, and you can feel the opportunity to tell him everything slip by, slip right through your fingers. “You don’t have to answer that. That wasn’t fair of me.”

Fair?

“I just…look, whatever he says about me, I don’t care,” Chan tells you, firmly, jaw tightening. “I just want you to be happy. That’s all I want.”

There’s a ferocity in his gaze that you’ve never seen before. You feel like you’re seeing a new side to him, something beyond friendly or serious or even soppy and sincere. This isn’t a Chan you recognise.

“…OK,” you murmur, gently, still reeling.

“Good.”

There are so many things you could say in return. You want to ask if he’s OK, you want to tell him that feeling is reciprocated, that of course all you want is to see him happy too. You could ask him how he’s feeling, with the wedding so close now.

But you don’t.

Because there’s only one thought swirling around in your mind, constantly repeating over and over again as you stare at Chan, as your phone weighs your pocket down, reminding you of who waits on the other end, as your lies begin to tangle up around you.

What the fuck is going on with these guys?

taglist:

@buntrsh​ @liz820​ @sunnyville36​ @sleepylixie​ @healinghyunjin​ @randombutyeah @aliceu​ @laikaya​ @the7thcrow​ @woofwoofbangbang​ @lynx-paw​ @im-questioning-my-existence​ @mainexiii​ @springdeity​ @koroleva--rezni​ @bettyschwallocksyee​ @levisackerwoman @ateliersaab​ @tae-kook-lover​ @itshoonie​ @malewife-supremacy​ @cosmiixstars​ @jaeminie-cricket​

[silverdelirium]

SWEET TOOTH | J.P

SUMMARY ➠ ice cream man!james fucks you in his ice cream truck

WARNINGS ➠ fingering, dirty talk, semi-public sex, praise kink, humiliation (?), pet names, bit of a breeding kink, not proofread

WORD COUNT ➠ 2.0k

A/N ➠ the long awaited ice cream man james smut ;) oh and this is for @hellounicorn <33

———

you were in that stage between dreams and reality when you heard it.

the small tune that you memorized since you started living in this neighbourhood— he always passed by in summer; and god, were you craving something cold and tasty to munch on when it was a thousand degrees outside.

you hummed in content as you lifted yourself from your bed, stretching your lips and rummaging through your closet in an attempt to find a comfortable and decent attire to meet james; as weird as it sounded, you wanted to impress the ice cream man and it was safe to say that you had developed a small crush— james had always been so nice to you, going as far as giving you free popsicles in exchange for a brief conversation.

the tip of your nerves went on fire as you stepped outside; spotting him buckling his belt. he was wearing a tight fit white shirt that had you drooling and shuddering.

——

“there you go, kiddo” chuckled james after delivering a chocolate ice cream to the last kid of the big crowd that had formed earlier.

he sighed in disappointment when he realized that you still hadn’t come out yet— he had purposely parked the van a few feet from your house, just so you could maybe pop by and have a nice chat with him.

truth is that james missed you. he hadn’t seen you since last summer and it had already been a shitty weather day, he knew you would be the only one to lift his mood up with that bright smile of yours.

james went back to the driver’s seat and as he finished buckling himself up he heard a small scream of his name upfront.

holy fuck— thought james.

you were wearing a small cute sundress that accentuated your figure in the best way possible, and when he let his eyes travel down to your chest, he caught a glimpse of your peebled nipples. leading him to get into the conclusion that you might only be wearing panties underneath that dress. his cock ached at the thought.

he stepped on the pedal lightly and drove closer to you, until the truck was right in line with your home.

“hi there, sweetheart!” he greeted, unbuckling his seatbelt and going into the back— where he was met with your face through the open window.

“hello james” you giggled “long time, no see, huh?”

“damn right you are, honey— i was starting to wonder if you moved out, what took you so long?” he spoke in a querying tone.

the tip of your ears and nose grew hot as you remembered struggling to find something cute for him. “oh— uhm, i was just— looking for my shoes you know?” you awkwardly chuckled, staring down at the five dollar bill in your hand as if it was the most interesting thing in the planet.

he gave you a bit of an amused look before shaking his head “whatever you say, pretty girl” your tummy fluttered as the nickname dripped from his lips like sweet honey.

“what would you like today, hm?”

“oh just— something sweet and creamy, like an ice cream popsicle” you shrugged, not noticing the effect your words had on james.

“i know something of yours that is sweet and creamy” he murmured under his breath. “what was that?” “oh, no nothing” he gave you a tight lipped smile, his cheeks dusting pink.

“right well uhm, the ice cream”

“oh shoot yeah— what uh” he paused to clear his throat “what flavor where you thinking of, petal?” and his sweet flirty persona was back on, as if the thought of having a face full of your pussy wasn’t replaying on his head over and over again.

“i don’t know” you groaned, almost embarrassed at your sudden indecisiveness.

“you can come in you know? take a look at the flavors and see which one catches your attention more” he offered, sparing you a small smile.

“won’t you get in trouble for that?” you cocked your head to the side. “i don’t mind” he shrugged, the corners of his lips still quirked up as he opened up the back door for you; already holding both of his hands out to help you climb in.

what a gentleman, you thought.

“there we go, honey. take your time.” spoke james as he patted your waist twice, sending a buzz of excitement all throughout your body that almost made you shudder on the spot.

the variety of flavours seemed so appetizing you started wishing you would’ve brought your whole wallet to buy all of them at once, but a peach flavoured ice cream would do.

as you went to give james the money he only chuckled and said “you know i wouldn’t charge a pretty little thing like you, your presence is enough” before handing you the sweet and throwing you a wink as he rested his back on the frame of the window.

the way his muscles flexed as he crossed them over his chest had you questioning whether you should’ve asked for his cock instead of a fucking popsicle—

and god… that damn shirt had your core clenching around air as your mind wandered about him fucking you in every position possible, he just looked so elegantly inviting.

“you done staring, sweetheart?”

shit. you didn’t even realize.

“oh my god, i am so sorry, i should probably leave” you nervously laughed, heading towards the back doors, only to have a large hand around your abdomen stop you.

holy fuck. james potter’s body was pressed against yours and you almost let out a moan as his breath fanned over the side of your petrified face.

“you can’t just leave me all alone in here, sweetie” his hand traveled lower down your mid drift. by now, your stupid peach flavored popsicle was long gone somewhere on the floor, melting. almost as much as you were against james’ hefty chest.

you swallowed thickly, blinking a few times to collect yourself as you turned your head to the side, it was hot breath against hot breath now; if only one of you made the first move—

“oh fuck this” he growled, disconnecting his palm from your pelvis and instead linking it with your jaw to have more access against your lightly chapped lips.

the lip-lock was vulgar and enticing since the start, both of you feeling the luscious sparks that it sent to your sex.

“i’ve been way too fucking patient” you heard him mumble as he took your lower lip in between his teeth, coaxing a whine as you felt your core drip with arousal. “bet you think about me when that pretty cunt is begging for relief, huh?”

“yes jamie, i do. i fucking do” you heaved, impassionedly grinding your bum against his bulging crotch. “i’m gonna fuck you nice and long today, baby. until all you can do is beg for more”

his words went straight to your sopping cunt as he waddled you forward, his mouth still on yours, to the window.

his lips detached from yours. “there we go baby, stay nice and loud for me, yeah? want the whole fucking neighbourhood to know who’s stuffing you full.”

your fingers gripped the edge of the window tightly as james nipped at your neck, his left hand bunching up your dress while the right one’s simultaneously prodded at your swollen button. “you came all bare for me, honey? bet you wanted me to fuck you good once and for all” he groaned, not giving you a warning as he slipped two fingers at once, leaving you a gasping mess as your knuckles turned white from holding on to the frame of the aperture you were leaned on.

“james!” you cried out quietly, rocking your hips back onto his fingers as the ones from his free hand made a path to your throat, lightly squeezing the sides.

his digits made wonders to your contracting insides, juices already making a sticky mess on your thighs as he curled them upwards, caressing your g-spot in a mouth-watering manner; the pad of his thumb made way to your clit, soothing it in tight figure eights as your legs shook, pulling small wails after wails from you.

feeling the thrill of the enticing orgasm building up, you brought one of your hands back to tangle itself on the male’s dark curls, only to have him tut at you as he removed his drenched fingers.

“wha— no! please!” you shamelessly begged, not giving a shit about anything else besides the ache on your heat.

james did nothing besides giving you a wicked grin as he let go of your neck, now focusing on lowering down his trousers— which quickly had you shutting up as you stared in fascination.

he was definitely the biggest you have had so far. a nice length with a thickness that would make a barbarous stretch feel so fucking delirious.

“i’m not sure if i can fit in that tiny hole of yours, precious. maybe i should just leave you like this” he fake pouted, a hint of amusement lacing his features as your bottom lip trembled at the thought of not having him inside you in the next fifteen seconds or so. “no! it’ll fit! make it fit” you mewled, rubbing your pooling cunt against his grith.

“so impatient” he chuckled, stabilizing your hips with his hands before forcing himself into you in one single unforgiving push, making you let out a small scream as your eyes shut tight.

james gave you a few moments for you to get comfortable before you rocked your hips backwards into his as a sign of consent. his hand travelled upwards to grope at your breasts as he thrusted deeply.

“my god, you feel like absolute heaven” he grunted, and even though you couldn’t hear him, the strain in his voice gave away that he was probably with his head thrown back, abs clenching and biceps flexed as his chest heaved, a sight for sore eyes truly.

your mouth stayed agape as his tip kissed your g-spot. your vision clouded with small black stars that had you genuinely question whether they were really painted in your house or not.

james started with a brutal speed since the start, the smacking of your skin against his was filthy and loud, you could only hope mr. benson wouldn’t go for a walk today.

the van rocked and lightly squeaked with every thrust of james’ and you tried your best to contain every loud moan and cry that might alarm the whole block. james had other plans though. “say my name baby, don’t hold back, i want to have your pretty moans fucking memorized”

you complied, throwing your last fucks out of the window and chanting his name like a prayer as your eyes rolled to the back of your head, his strong arms moving to hold you up by the bending of your elbows, causing your spine to arch in a perfect C as james continuously grunted in your ear.

“you’re gonna be absolutely cockdrunk after i’m done with you, honey” he groaned, speeding up the push of his hips and biting down on your shoulder as he brought you both closer to the edge.

“james! i’m gonna cum so hard, don’t stop please, don’t fucking stop” you sobbed, moaning uncontrollably as the coil in your stomach unravelled without any form of forewarning.

“there we go, cream my cock so nicely baby” whispered james, still fucking your quivering pussy through the orgasm with an aggressive pace. “oh fuck, this tight cunt is gonna milk me dry, yeah?”

you could only answer him with a whimper as your legs almost gave out on you if it wasn’t for him holding you up, a few more sloppy thrusts and he was spraying your fluttering walls with his cum, whines escaping his lips.

a breathy moan passed through your mouth as he pulled out, his load slowly flowing out of your puffy folds.

“you look so hot when you’re stuffed full of my cum, sweetheart.” rasped james, peppering your cheeks with soft kisses.

———

i’m tagging the people who clicked “all” in my taglist, dm me if you wish to be removed.

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[cjsinkythoughts]

Right From Left

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Reader

Word Count: 3085

Warnings: !FATWS SPOILERS!, Cursing, Zemo being a punk, Bucky getting a little scary, some feelings, Sam being his fantastic, amazing, caring for everyone self

A/N: Here it is! At long last! I’ve been waiting for this episode and it was…holy fuck. I barely have words. And I can’t start or else I’ll be ranting for pages. Anyways, I know this Part is a little on the shorter side - not by much, but it still is - and it doesn’t even cover half the episode, but I’ve had a long day and I’m tired, so I’m going to sleep. I wanted to stop before Walker entered the picture too, because then I’m just gonna get more riled up and I’m working later. I’ll probably have another part out today, and then I’ll finish it tomorrow. Unless I can finish it today. I’ll try, but no promises.

Feel free to rant to me about the episode or the show, too, guys! My friends and I have been going back and forth about it for the past few hours. I’d love to hear your thoughts! I think that’s all for now.

As always, this isn’t beta’d so please excuse any mistakes! Thank you for reading, be kind to yourself and others, enjoy this part and stay tuned!

FATWS Masterlist

cjsinkythoughts Masterlist

!SPOILERS BELOW CUT!

You were avoiding him.

When you first got to Latvia, he had pulled you aside, eyes wide and pleading. “Doll, listen-”

“I really don’t think right now is the time to have the discussion we’re about to have.” Shaking your head, you avoided his gaze, your stomach twisting into knots. It was too much for you to handle; you couldn’t focus on the mission at hand and try to unravel the emotions that were making your gut flip like a gymnast. There were too many thoughts in your head, and you needed a clear mind.

“But-”

“Once this is all done, and our lives aren’t in danger. Once we’re back home, then we can talk, okay? Just…please. Not here. Not now.”

And he dropped it. 

It wasn’t that you didn’t want to talk about it. You just couldn’t. You had always been a ‘leave your baggage at the door’ type of person. Don’t mix work with personal. Not like you had much “personal” anyways when you first decided that was how it should be. And then your coworkers became family and your motto got a lot harder to follow. But you still followed it. And you would continue to follow it.

But that made you start avoiding him. Whether you meant to or not, everyone noticed, but no one said anything. Sam shot you a look when you didn’t offer to go with Bucky when he had to check something out. Zemo raised an eyebrow when he came back and, instead of immediately questioning him, you sat still on the couch, eyes glancing up briefly, before going back to playing with the strings of your hoodie.

You were paying attention to their conversation, especially when Karli Morgenthau was brought up, you just didn’t join in. Not even when Zemo mentioned the Avengers, eyeing you to see your reaction.

Honestly, you were tired, physically, mentally, and emotionally. Your shoulder hurt, your brain couldn’t process what the guys were talking about, and your heart couldn’t take any more hits.

It was something you’d been thinking about…you just thought it’d come after this mission.

“She will not stop. She will escalate until you kill her…or she kills you.”

“Maybe you’re wrong Zemo. The Serum never corrupted Steve.”

For the first time since he first walked in, your eyes met Bucky’s. “Touche.” Zemo pointed at Bucky with a pastry around his finger. “But there has never been another Steve Rogers, has there?”

But you couldn’t wait until after this mission. Not when he was so connected to it. “I think I’m gonna go home.” You blurted out before Zemo and Bucky could argue further, Bucky slumping down onto the opposite side of the couch.

The moment the words left your lips, Sam and Bucky shot up, staring at you in disbelief.

“Wait, hold up. What? Now? We’re so close-”

“Why? Is it your arm? Is it hurting? You should’ve told us-”

“I’m just tired.” You cut in, shaking your head. “That’s all. I didn’t expect this to be drawn out this long when you called, Sammy.”

Bucky’s hand twitched as he hesitatingly scooted closer to you. “Doll, if this is because what happened on the jet-”

“It’s not, Buck.” You tried to give him a convincing smile, but you knew by the look in his eyes that he didn’t buy it for one second. You reached over to squeeze his hand, and when you pulled back, he held on tighter, a sigh escaping his lips as he stared down at your linked hands.

“Okay…if you wanna go home, we can get you home. Just…” His head turned back to you, a pleading pout on his features. “Just…stay. Another day. Please. You can keep avoiding me, I won’t even say another word to you if you don’t want. But stay. Just for one more day.”

Chewing on your cheek, you finally nodded slightly. “Okay. One more day.”

His eyes lit up, before his face fell again when you took your hand back and curled into the corner of the couch. “Let’s talk shop, boys.”

“Okay. So, from my understanding, Donya is like a pillar of the community, right?” Sam easily changed the topic back to the situation at hand, giving you a reassuring wink when you smiled at him gratefully. “So when I was a kid, my Tee Tee passed away.”

Bucky screwed his face up in confusion, straightening his head from where he had it leaned back. “Your - your Tee Tee?”

Sam gave him a look. “Yeah. My-my Tee Tee, yeah.”

Bucky looked at him weirdly. “Who is your Tee Tee?”

The exchange made you giggle a little bit, shaking your head. “Bucky’s a city boy from the 40’s, remember, Sammy?”

“Fine.” Sam rolled his eyes. “When I was a kid my aunt passed away.”

Bucky gave a slight huff, making you chuckle again. You stopped when he smiled over at you, but your grin didn’t leave your face. Even when they were the ones to give you a headache, your fellas were damn entertaining, that’s for sure.

With a sort-of plan in place - the gathering for Donya being no more than a theory, but the only idea you really had - you stretched out from your spot on the couch, twisting to crack your back. “Zemo.” The man stopped his rummaging through the cabinets and looked over his shoulder at you, an eyebrow raised. “Go put some clothes on. We’ve got work to do.”

He gave you an unimpressed look, opening his mouth, but Sam beat him to the punch. “Do as the lady says, man. You’re already walking on a tightrope after you shot Nagel!” Zemo waved dismissively at Sam’s exclamation, heading into a separate room to change out of his robe. “That guy is gonna drive me up the wall.”

“Don’t let him get to that pretty head of yours, Sammy.” You hummed, standing up, wincing slightly as you stretched your sore shoulder over your head.

You could tell Bucky wanted to say something, the way he snapped forwards, hands moving down his thigh like he was leaning over to reach for you, his eyes locked on your injured joint, but, just as he said earlier, he didn’t say a word. But the part that made you upset was…you didn’t stop him. You didn’t tell him it was okay for him to talk to you. You didn’t reassure him that you weren’t purposely trying to avoid him. You simply moved over to the kitchen to get something to drink.

It hurt worse than your shoulder, but you couldn’t handle it. Not then. Not with such an important part of the mission coming up. So you didn’t say anything. You just sipped your water, switching into tactic mode as your mind ran through the scenarios of what could possibly go down in the next 24 hours before you went home.

*************************

Walking under the arch, you couldn’t help but feel saddened as Zemo told you about what the courtyard used to look like. Thanos messed the world up so much more than you realized and, as much as you hated to admit it, the Avengers did have a part in it. Not that they - you - were in the wrong, necessarily. You truly believed you did what anyone in that situation, with the skills and abilities and knowledge the team had, would do what you did. Or tried to do.

“I’m gonna take a look around upstairs.” Sam stated, looking up at the upper stories of the building, before glancing at Bucky. “See what you can find out here. And keep an eye on him.”

“I’ll come with you.” You said, turning on your heel to follow Sam. The back of Bucky’s gloved hand brushed against yours, and instinctually you turned your palm to link your fingers and squeezing. You let go quickly once you realized what you were doing, nearly tripping up the stairs to get to Sam, not daring to wait for Bucky’s reaction.

“You’re an idiot.” He stated simply as soon as you met him at the top of the stairs.

“Can we focus on finding Donya right now, please?” You grumbled, moving forwards cautiously, peeking around the corner. You frowned when you saw two guys at the end of the hallway, looking back at you and Sam warily.

“You need to hear what he has to say, cher.”

You sighed, rubbing your forehead. “I know I do. I know. But I can’t. Not right now. I’m just trying to get this over with first. I don’t want too many things on my plate. I might choke.” It already felt like you were drowning most nights.

He paused at your words, giving you a once over, before nodding. “Okay. I can respect that.”

“Thank you.” You told him earnestly. “Now let’s try to get something from these people.”

He nodded in agreement and you two continued forwards with your search. Room after room, people walked out before you could get anything from them, locking doors behind them. The Flag Smashers logo was everywhere, but you expected nothing less from a refugee camp that practically worshipped what they were doing.

Even when you did get a guy to talk to you, he immediately shut you down, leaving you and Sam dejected. The fact that the world had gotten so bad that these people couldn’t trust you and Sam - Avengers; people who used to be heroes and bring hope to others - it made your heart sink.

“C’mon, Y/N.”

“Are we wrong?”

He froze at your question, his lips pressing together. “About what, exactly?”

You shrugged. “I don’t know. I just…I guess I can’t tell right from left anymore. I always assumed that the Avengers were the good guys. That the actions we’ve taken in the past were us making the world a better place, but…Sokovia and Ultron. Germany and the whole civil war thing we had going on. The entire world and Thanos. We don’t truly ever win. Do we?”

“I can’t answer that for you.” Sam shook his head. “I can’t tell you what to believe or who to believe in. But I can tell you that we’ve made a difference. Steve, Nat, Tony…they made a difference.”

“But was it a good difference? Was it a change? There’s a difference between changing the world and just making it different, Sam.”

He blinked at you, nodding slowly. “Yeah. I guess you’re right. And I don’t have that answer for you either. But they tried. They did what they thought was right. No matter if it was or not. And isn’t that all we can do? Try?”

His words made you think back to the conversation you had with Bucky once he learned about John Walker, which seemed so long ago. When you told him it wasn’t Sam’s fault. That he was just trying. That he did what he thought was right. 

And maybe he was wrong. But he made a decision. It was his decision. To do the right thing. And right then, not for the first time, you could see exactly what Steve saw in the man in front of you.

“You’re a good man, Sam.”

Sam grinned, slinging an arm around your shoulders and squeezing. “And you’re an incredible person, Y/N. Let’s go see if Bucky and the Baron got anything.”

You snickered at his mocking tone towards Zemo and nodded. “Yeah. Okay.”

*****************************

You didn’t like it. You didn’t like it one bit. So far, Zemo kept proving you wrong. Even when it seemed like he was about to jump ship, he came back. No matter how many opportunities he had to escape, he never did. And it was making you even more suspicious.

You stayed out of Bucky and Sam’s conversation, although you had to agree with Sam’s point, especially with the conversation you just had.

Your thoughts were running a thousand miles a minute, only to be interrupted by Zemo information about the funeral this afternoon. Guess a snake will always be a snake.

“And you, uh, didn’t think this was important information?” You questioned, eyes narrowed and brow pinched.

He shrugged. “You have it now, don’t you, princess?”

Bucky growled at the nickname, leaning back on the couch, threatening Zemo with the Dora Milaje.

You can’t remember a time you’ve ever been scared of Bucky. Maybe a little threatened and intimidated by the Winter Soldier, but never scared of Bucky. And when he stood up after Zemo mentioned leverage, you didn’t expect anything from it; maybe another choke hold or something. So the glass hitting the wall, the clench in his jaw as he spoke gruffly to the Baron, for a mere second, he kind of frightened you. Maybe it was all the emotions you’d been through the past few weeks or maybe it was the adrenaline that seemed to be pulsing through your veins 24/7 nowadays. Whatever it was, it made you flinch, bolting up as Sam did.

You left the room quickly, hearing Sam say something about making a call, hoping to calm your racing heart.

“Doll?” You sat up from the bed you were laying on, legs hanging off the edge. Bucky stood in the doorway, nervously shifting his feet. “I know I said I’d leave you alone, but…”

You gave the bed a pat next to you and he gladly accepted the invitation, padding over to sit besides you. “I don’t want you to leave me alone, Buck. You’re my best friend. I-I just need to take it one thing at a time right now.”

He nodded. “I get it. I wasn’t…I wasn’t coming in to talk to you about that. You said we’ll talk about it later, so we’ll talk about it later.”

“I appreciate that, Bucky.” You smiled at him, before frowning. “What did you wanna talk about then? Are you okay?”

“Did I…did I scare you?”

You blinked at his question, tilting your head. “What?”

Jerking his head to the doorway he explained, “just then. With Zemo. Your heart spiked.”

“No.” You answered immediately. You would never ever admit that he kind of did scare you. It was just for a second and you knew how his brain worked; he’d beat himself up over it, go over his actions for hours instead of getting the rest he so desperately needs and deserves. He didn’t need that on his conscience right now. “I wasn’t - I just…you startled me. I wasn’t expecting that reaction-”

“I didn’t like the way he talked to you.” He spat out, glaring at his hands in his lap. “And then the smug bastard thought he was gonna get away with holding back information like that and I just…I dunno.”

His hand came off his thigh, but he hesitated. Before he could put it down again, you slipped your hand under his, linking your fingers, running your thumb in circles against his palm. “Don’t let him get to you, Buck. Don’t give him the satisfaction.”

A sigh left his lips and he nodded. “I know, I know. It’s just…hard. After everything he put me through - put us through - I…I just hate that he’s really our only option.”

You frowned, shifting on the bed to face him, one leg bending beneath you while the other still hung over. “Why are you so obsessed with catching these guys?”

“I wanna do something right.” He murmured, playing with your fingers. “I’ve done so much wrong…I just wanna do something right. And I feel...responsible for it, I guess. In a way. It’s Super Soldier Serum. I thought I was the only one after Steve…” He froze at the blonde’s mention, giving you a side-eyed glance. You nudged him, silently telling him to continue, that it was okay to talk about him. “And Sam’s right, you know. She’s just a kid. So…I dunno. I wanna help. I wanna do something right. And catching them would help. It’s right. Right?”

You nodded firmly. “I understand where they’re coming from. Karli’s just trying to help the world. But she’s doing it wrong. And that I know for absolute certainty. Which is good, I guess. I was talking to Sam early and I mentioned not knowing my right from my left recently. It’s good I know something, huh? And for you it should be easy telling your right from your left.” You joked, tracing the gold lines on his metal arm. “I guess you’re just gonna have to stay besides me to help me remember.”

Looking up, you found Bucky staring at you with something you recognized in his eyes, but didn’t want to name. “Three hours, forty two minutes and thirty one seconds.”

“What?”

“That’s how long I didn’t talk to you. It was too long.”

You sighed, ducking your head. “Bucky, I’m sorry-”

“I’m sorry. For anything and everything I’ve ever done wrong. I won’t mention the plane or anything we’ve talked about until you bring it up first. I promise. Just…just don’t ignore me anymore? I'm not sure I can handle it for much longer.”

You nodded, watching your fingertips dance along his scruffy jaw. “I won’t.” He caught your wrist, opening his mouth, before shaking his head and closing it. “What?”

He shook his head again. “Not until you bring it up.”

“We will talk, James. I promise.”

“You don’t have to explain. I get it. I really do. It’s okay. As long as we’re okay for right now, I can hold it in a bit longer.”

You nearly asked him what he was holding in, but you quickly shoved the question out of your mind, knowing it would take you down a conversation you couldn’t possibly have right then. “How long do you think we have?”

He shrugged. “I dunno. Zemo just said that it’s this afternoon. Why?”

“I started reading The Great Gatsby on the plane. I’ve got it on my phone. It kinda reminds me of you. Do you-do you think we have time to read some? Only if you want, I mean. Like we used to do in Wakanda?”

He grinned and nodded, scooting up on the bed and flopping down into the pillows. You smiled back, following his lead. Once you were comfortable, your phone out with the chapter you were on, Bucky scooted closer, laying his head on your stomach, hugging your waist. 

“Is this okay?”

Your fingers found home in his hair and you nodded when he looked up at you for an answer. “Yeah. It’s perfect, Buckaroo.”

[nctsplug02]

makeup sex or angry sex with jaehyun 🤒🤒

[11;00pm]

Genre: smut and a little bit of angst

Tonight was going so perfectly fine until you saw him flirting with another women. Who’s him?

Jeong jaehyun.

Once you and him were home, he immediately sensed your mood. He could feel how pissed you were but being the asshole he is, he wanted to push your buttons a bit more.

“How’d you like the party?” He asks, grabbing your hips and leading you to the kitchen. “It was fine, didn’t really enjoy it at the end.” You shrug as he sits you down. “Oh, really? I had a fantastic time. I accidentally bumped into this kind women and spilt her drink, I offered to buy her a new one and then we just started talking.”

You roll your eyes not wanting to hear the details. “Good for you.” He sets a wine glass in front of you and pours a little bit of some wine from last night. “She’s very young, she’s in her 20s and god lord, she’s amazing.”

‘Did this dumbass forget I’m his wife?’ You thought to yourself with your eyebrows knitted together.

“Do you remember our promise?” You suddenly bring up, swirling the wine in your glass. “We have a bunch of promises, love. Which promise are you talking about?” You lick your dry lips. “We made a promise that I’d be yours and only yours, and you’d be mine and only mine.” He chuckles and nods. “Yes, I do remember.”

“You’re mine, right?” He nods and pauses before taking a sip out of his drink. “Mhm, so how come you were touching another women? Hmm, what was her name again… oh! Haeun!” You snap your fingers after figuring out the women’s name. “I was just helping her clean the spill on her dress so it wouldn’t stain.” You scoff and turn your eyes to him.

“I’m sure her spill wasn’t on her hips, now was it? Yeah, didn’t think so.” He sighs and sets his glass down.

“Babe, she was a little bit tipsy and wobbled, losing her balance so I didn’t want to her to fall—.”

“Yeah and if she was going to tip over, let her. She has legs and arms of her own, she can get up by herself. I don’t want your hands on that bitch, ever— or any bitch at all!” He smirks knowing he’s pissed you off even more. “Aww, is my kitten jealous?” A wave of fluster washes over you by his sudden voice change.

“I—I am not. I just don’t like your hands on her waist, they should’ve been on my waist.” You turn your head with a sassy ‘hmph.’ “Oh, yeah? What if I brought her here tonight and bent her over this counter, this exact counter, the one I’ve fucked you on multiple times, and did the same with her?” Your head snaps back to the daring man.

Is he going to risk going farther?

“I would’ve held her hips just like I did earlier tonight and slammed my hips into hers just like I do with you,” his voice daring you and teasing you. “what should I call her while I fuck her dumb? Princess? Baby? Kitten?” Your blood boiling in anger, how could he say such things to you, his wife!

“Fuck you!” You push the chair back, making a huge screeching noise on the floor. “Fuck you! Fuck her! Fuck everyone!” You grab your keys and head towards the front door. Jaehyun quickly follows behind and jumps in front of you, stopping you from leaving.

“Woah, where you going, kitten?” He tilts your chin upwards to look at him. “Don’t call me that—!” You struggle to push him aside. “Aww, why not? Don’t you like being called my kitten?” His smirk starts to form. “N—no! I never did!” He frowns letting a fake disappointed sound. “Really? Should I remind you how much I love my kitten? My one and only kitten?”

He smirks and flips you over, your back now against the door. You try pushing him away but he takes your hands and pins then above you.

His hand slowly starts to glide down your waist and then up your dress. “Mmm, so warm.” He giggles and bites his lips. “S—shut up!” Your legs were squeezing together. “Hmm, should I touch you?” He fingers lightly grazing over your clothed pussy. “Yes.. o—oh, my god.. yes, please touch me?” He shamelessly laughs at your whines.

“Begging for me to touch you? How pathetic.” A small gasp leaves your mouth and he pushes your panties aside and runs a finger through your slit. “More.. more, please?” He lightly laughs and shoves a finger in you. “More, I need more!” You whine pathetically, bucking your hips forward. “More? So greedy, what a greedy little thing.” He adds another finger, stretching you out.

His fingers sliding in and out of you at a quick pace, your knees buckling as he fingers you. “Fuck—! Cum—? Please let me, let me cum?” Your pants hitching as your tummy twists and turns, jaehyun hums just to tease you but nods. A wave of vibration washes over you, your orgasm felt so good, your legs started to shake.

“Oh, did you think I was finished, I didn’t get my turn yet?” He lifts you up and carries you back to the counter. “Noo, I’m tired! I want to sleep in my bed! My comfy be—! Son of a bitch!” You swear as he randomly slams himself in you without a warning. “Ugh! I fucking hate you! Give me a warning!” He chuckles and shakes his head.

His cock repeatedly kissing your g-spot, his hands squeezing the hell out of your hips, your whines and moans bouncing off the walls as he pounds into you. “Jae—! Oh, my god! Oh, fuck!” He snickers as you moaningly gasp. “What, huh? Gonna cum? Yeah? Then fucking cum.”

So of course, you did.

Jaehyun looks down and watches as his cream coated cock disappears in your vagina over and over. “Where do you— mm, want me to cum?” He asks wanting to know where. “M—my mouth, please?” A few more powerful thrusts and he pulls out, turning you around and shoving you to the ground before letting you take the lead.

You grabbed ahold of his cock and wrap your lips around him. You jerk him off until hot white specimens, spurts out of his slit and down your throat. “Oh, fuck..” he groans oh, so sexily in his deep voice.

“Shower?” He asks, panting, trying to catch his breath from the previous activity. “Yeah, carry me?” He scoffs and lifts you up, tossing you right over his shoulder and then bringing you up to the shower.

“You know shower means round two, right?” You roll your eyes with a slight laugh. “Yeah, I know, idiot.” He smacks your ass leaving a handprint. “Horndog..” you utter under your breath causing him to smack your ass again.

[childofsquidward]

Books I Read In 2022 (and by read I mean actually liked)

She Drives Me Crazy by Kelly Quindlen

“Would you believe the last one wasn’t even real? I didn’t even hit the girl’s hand!”

“Mmm, I’m gonna call bullshit on that. You claimed you didn’t hit my car either.”

“I hate you,” I say. Then I kiss her and kiss her and kiss her.

I’ve made my feelings about this book pretty clear, but I’ll screech about it again because that’s what it deserves! THIS. BOOK. IS. SO. GOOD. I’m crying just thinking about it, I don’t think I can hold a physical copy because I’m worried about ruining it via tear drops, but I’ll still buy it (no one touch it, don’t even breathe on it). 

I read this entire book in 4-5 hours and the only reason it took me this long was because I had to pause to cry. I'm not kidding, I was sobbing, my vision blurred - I had to finish crying before I could continue reading the book, which happened at least 3 times.

Imagine taking some classic, fan-favourite tropes (aka fake-dating, enemies-to-lovers, "jock"/cheerleader) and actually having them be more grounded and heart-wrenching and honestly, realistic. Oh, and it's about an interracial gay couple instead of straight, white couple #186489. You watch these girls be petty and mean and fall in love and it's FUN! But then you get to see them grow as people and put that growth before their relationship (AS THEY SHOULD) and it breaks your heart over and over again. And it’s not just Scottie and Irene that you fall in love with, it’s everyone around them too because the dynamics in this book are just that amazing.

I would also like to add that there were 3 specific scenes from this book that affected me so much that I think it will take me at least a month to recover. I would love to re-read this book, but I also don't want anyone to mention it to me until, like, March. 1. The Christmas gift scene. Irene Abraham, you are my all-time favourite character and you were the second that you started critiquing European History (AS YOU SHOULD), I am so sorry that you're hurting. Scottie Zajac, I love you with all my heart and I understand what you're going through, I hate that you're still hurting. 2. The parking lot fight. Yes, I know they had 10 billion of those, but when you get to the one that makes you cry nonstop, you'll know exactly what I mean. 3. When Scottie sits down to talk to her family. Kelly Quindlen really said, "YOU GET A SUPPORTIVE FAMILY. YOU GET A SUPPORTIVE FAMILY. EVERYBODY GETS A SUPPORTIVE FAMILY," and we should all thank her for it. There was disappointment, yes, but there was no judgment which is really important. I also think that their disappointment wasn't 100% directed towards Scottie, it was also directed towards themselves because it came from a place of "I wish you felt that you could talk to us and I wish that we could've helped you more/sooner." Everything about that entire moment was so gut-wrenching and I just think it's incredibly rude to have these three scenes be so close together.

I have a lot more to say, but I think that I might cry again, so I won’t.

[baoshan-sanren]

Hi...how are you? If you don't mind me asking what is your top 5 fav danmei novels (until now)? And why? Sorry if you've answered this question before.....

jfhdkhgfdjhdjks I JUST finished Peerless so that’s going first on my list bc I am weak and I WANT MORE

Peerless (无双) by Meng Xi Shi - (jjwxc link) (chapters 1-187) (extras 1-4) (not explicit) I am fckn IN LOVE with this novel. Feng Xiao and Cui Buqu are the most brilliant fucking morons I’ve ever met in my life. This is a slow build of all the slow builds, murder, intrigue, so much stupidity, court dramas, martial arts fights, levels of arrogance that would make even Yan Wushi shake his head (who does show up in a tiny little cameo in one of the chapters). The book is split up in five arcs that allow for a pause in between, if you find 190+ chapters to be too much for a continuous read through, but I would have flown through them in a space of a few days, if life hadn’t turned upside down on me. Now that I’m finally done, I miss these morons more than I’ve ever missed two fictional characters. This novel will def end up in my top five for a long time.

The Wife is First (妻为上) by Lu Ye Qian He - (jjwxc link) (chapters 1-5) (chapters 6-85 ongoing) (explicit) This is still, by far, the most feel-good danmei I’ve ever read. Jing Shao dies, then gets to relive his life all over again from the night of his wedding to Jun Qing. The beginning may be rough for some readers bc Jing Shao, despite getting another chance at life, has nonetheless arrived too late to prevent his first offense against the man he married (can you hear me screaming about hurt/comfort!). But from that point on, he is determined to do things differently, so the story that had been one of misery in his previous life, turns into one of love and devotion (and some very satisfying court scheming) in this one. It is an extremely satisfying read, and the relationship between the two mains, despite its rough start, is so goddamn lovely, I can’t recommend it enough. 

The Scum Villain’s Self-Saving System (人渣反派自救系统) by Mò Xiāng Tóngxiù - (physical novel purchase link) (chapters 1-80) (extras 80-98) (chapters 1-53 ongoing) (explicit) Yeah, this is my baby. I’ll admit off the bat I’ve read svsss at least ten times, which is five times more than either tgcf or mdzs. It’s hilarious, frustrating, insightful, feral, infuriating, and pretty fucking amazing, all at once, and all of it overlapping. I’ve written essays upon essays about mxtx’s creative choices in this novel, most of which will never see the light of day. This damn thing is so ridiculously rough on the surface, but svsss, for me, is like a damn onion, and every time I read it, I peel more layers off and find something else new underneath. I fucking love this damn novel, and you will only pry it from my cold dead hands. 

Lord Seventh (七爷) by Priest - (jjwxc link) (chapters 1-5) (chapters 6-7) (chapters 8-32) (chapters 33-76) (extras 1-3) (semi-explicit?) It’s kind of a crime that this is the only Priest novel on this list, but if I can only list five, I’m gonna try and not double up on authors. Highly, highly, recommend this, especially to people who plan to read Faraway Wanderers. Zhou ZiShu’s background doesn’t take up a large part of the story, but the environment in which he thrived at court tells you much more about him as a person than the first fifty chapters of tyk do (and in much more stark terms). Jing Beiyuan is an absolute fucking delight, a man who had reincarnated multiple times, but managed to keep all of his memories of his previous (pretty terrible) lives. His sense of humor is therefore honed to the nth degree, and he is simultaneously a giant gremlin who takes nothing and no one seriously, but is also utterly done with everyone’s shit. Basically a story about being destined to forever be entangled with another person, and then deliberately choosing not to be. I love this goddamn novel to pieces. 

The Husky and His White Cat Shizun (二哈和他的白猫师尊) by Meatbun Doesn't Eat Meat - (jjwxc link) (chapters 1-4) (chapters 5-149 ongoing) (heavily explicit) This fucking novel haunts me. It’s been over a year since I’ve read it, and I still sometimes lie awake, staring at the ceiling, wondering about the nature of life, love, forgiveness, and redemption (and then I curse Meatbun to high heaven). I once described reading 2ha as being stuffed feet-first into a wood-chipper for 200 out of 300+ chapters, and I still hold to that description. But this is, hands down, one of the most hauntingly beautiful novels I’ve ever read. To anyone who intends to read it, I highly recommend checking out a detailed list of content warnings first, buying three boxes of tissues, and being ready to have your life ruined for good. 

Once again, I ask those who are willing and able, to buy the original novels and support the authors. (jjwxc buying guide for english-speakers here)

[absolutepokemontrash]

The Brothers and Side Characters Play the Sims

I don’t know what possessed me to make this but WHATEVER. I’ve been playing the Sims since I was a wee little girl, and I’ve seen my fair share of weird Sims stuff that I feel would fit these bozos perfectly.

My Sims have a Functional Family Life Because I Don’t (Lucifer)

God dammit Levi’s obsessed with another game... ugh.

Spends 5 minutes in Create-a-Sim and hops into a starter home.

Lucifer’s the type to start with all the average stuff and then build their stuff up as his sim gets promotions.

It’s just... so peaceful...

...he’s adopting a dog.

Look at his new little virtual family... his sim-kids are self sufficient and getting A’s in school, his Sim spouse MC or Diavolo take your pick loves his Sim-self, his sim-dog-

WAIT NO- THE DOG’S AN ELDER?!

AAAAAAAAAAAAA-

...

He’s fine. It was just a virtual dog. *sniffle*

He’s now spending his free time drinking Demonus and playing the Sims.

What’s a mod? Levi why does your sim have gun?

Behold, My Gorgeous Home... It’s a Box (Mammon)

Mammon, like the rest of the HOL, is mooching off of Levi’s Origin account.

“AW SHIT! This house looks awesome! I’m gonna build it for Sim-me to live in!”

Mammon proceeds to build a box with rooms. Yay...

He just picks the funnest sounding job if he picks any job at all for his Sim. That’s how he ended up making 9 dollars an hour in the criminal career.

Didn’t stop Mammon from buying that solid gold bathroom set from Get Famous... a box with solid gold bathrooms.

His Sim is broke send help-

“Leviiiiiii my sim needs money... the people my sim kidnapped and is forcing to paint aren’t making enough money...” “Ugh... press control shift C and type ‘motherlode’.”

...Levi made a mistake.

“FUCK YEAH! MOTHERLODE!”

His sim’s life is so chaotic, he has a piranha pool that his sim has almost died in twice, the sim is carrying on several torrid love affairs, his sim got struck by lightning, his sim has nearly died in a grilled cheese making accident twice... in the same day.

At least once Sim-Mammon and Sim-MC get married things calm down a little.

Mammon finds out what custom content is and proceeds to download EVERYTHING HE CAN FIND.

And now he’s asking Levi why his computer is running so slow.

Expansion Pack King (Leviathan)

He got into it back when the Sims 2 was new, he’s a veteran fan.

“Bro remember when Agnes Crumplebottom would show up and whack the shit out of your sims if they were flirting?”

“Remember when that witch would show up randomly on the lot you were on if you had Makin’ Magic?”

“Remember when Bella Goth was abducted by aliens and we just... didn’t question it?”

He whines about the Sims4 and how crappy it is but still buys every expansion pack, game pack, and stuff pack.

This boy watches like 40 hours of built tutorials and ends up sobbing over his weird roofs.

“WHY DOESN’T IT LOOK AS NICE AS THE ONE I’M LOOKING AT?! THIS ISN’T FAIR!”

The mod folder is so full istg-

Levi gets custom content for the sole purpose of making his favourite fictional characters.

This is why Henry and the Lord of Shadows are married and Ruri-chan and Sim-Levi are roommates.

Oh my god they were roommates-

Levi also added his brothers to the world and uh... Sim-Mammon died in a tragic pool accident F.

Levi then proceeded to befriend the Grim Reaper.

He’s anxiously awaiting the release of Paralives.

Wait Gameplay? In This Build Simulator? (Satan)

Satan’s here to build and leave. Gameplay who?

Our favourite bundle of rage is a master architect and the amount of followers on the Gallery he has shows it.

He takes up those build shell challenges and always ends up making them look positively perfect.

Asmo’s always using his houses, and Satan often takes requests when he gets bored.

No Mammon, he reserves the right to refuse to build a golden castle for you- YOUR SIM HAS 40 SIMOLEONS-

No mods, no CC, he’s building with what EA gave him.

...and EA gave him debug objects, and he’s not going to explain how to get them.

The one time he did actually play with a family... it was one sim and seven cats.

He tries to play without cheats... and ends up getting frustrated and turns on cheats.

All hail the Pets Expansion Pack.

Custom Content Soap Opera (Asmodeus)

Asmo spends 5 hours in Create a Sim then just... clicks out of the game.

That’s how it goes most of the time, buuuuuut when he gets super invested in a family he’s made, boy howdy is he INVESTED.

Sim A is carrying on an affair with Sim C who’s in love with Sim B who’s married to Sim A but Sim D wants to kill Sim A and C even though they’re the illegitimate child of Sim C-

When Asmo realizes that in the Sims 4 he needs to manufacture all the drama himself and he can’t just sit back with a glass of wine and watch the fireworks, he switches to the Sims 2 and 3.

“...why is this old lady beating up my Sim..?”

He immediately recoils in horror upon seeing how ugly the Sims are pre Sims4.

HE NEEDS TO FIX THIS-

Ah, there we go, perfect. Custom Content to the rescue!

He ends up remaking the entire world just so he doesn’t have to look at weird looking Sims.

Asmo is the only one to have finished a proper Legacy Challenge, but it gets crazy chaotic after gen 3.

“My sim just got abducted by aliens and now he’s pregnant- WHAT?!”

He has about 40 saves and only two he actually plays.

Just a Big Ol’ Happy Family (Beelzebub)

Beel found the game, proceeded to make everyone in create-a-sim to the best of his abilities, and made everyone get along.

That’s why Sim-Lucifer and Sim-Belphie are on a swing set together, they’re friends :D

“Hey Luke do you think you can make this?” “I-is that a cake shaped like a hamburger?” “Yes. Please make.”

He took one look at the cooking options and decided to max out his Sim’s cooking skill to unlock all the options.

Beel proceeded to drool all over his keyboard. Gross...

Boy howdy did he have some crazy dinner suggestions!

Overall, very wholesome Sim-life, except for the time Sim-Levi died because the toilet caught fire, don’t worry, Sim-Beel knows how to make ambrosia.

All is good in the Sim save...

...until Sim-Beel ate pufferfish nigiri and fuckin died-

Wait Did I Not Pause- (Belphie)

Huh, this game looks fine... I’ll play for a little- *SNORE*

Belphie makes some sims, plops them into a starter home, plays for an hour, then falls asleep.

He wakes up five hours later to absolute carnage.

Three sims have died because someone decided to make Mac and Cheese and the oven caught fire, the kids were taken away by social services, and the dog ran away.

“...heheh, holy shit everyone look.”

He doesn’t play often, but when he does, death occurs. He has found out every death method for every game from Sims 2 to 4.

And that INCLUDES the Sims Medieval! You guys remember that game?

Sometimes it’s not intentional, but Belphie got bored with the totally normal life his sims were living and decided to spice it up.

“Why are the ghosts breaking my showers..?”

Help There’s a Bug- (Diavolo)

The Crown Prince started playing when he noticed Lucifer was playing it.

He was immediately obsessed.

Dia mostly plays the Sims Medieval because he likes the feeling of achievement after completing a quest!

“Barbatos... why isn’t my Sim completing their task? The icon won’t show up.” “My lord it appears the game is bugged.” “:(“

No one thought to tell Diavolo that EA doesn’t plan on offering bug support to a game made in like... 2009

This doesn’t matter! Look at how great his kingdom is doing- oh no his hero has the plague-

He plays through the Pirates and Nobles expansion and manages to get the peaceful ending, he’s so proud of himself.

“MC! Look! My Monarch’s sword is permanently on fire and I’m fighting an evil wizard!”

When he does play the other Sims games he’s pretty basic, though, he does a great job at furnishing!

Dia gets crazy sad when his Sims die... he turns off aging.

Builder no. 2 (Barbatos)

Barbie doesn’t have time for this... but when he does, he builds.

No create a sim.

No playing the game as intended.

Just builds.

It’s relaxing, okay? A nice little suburban house he’s never going to play in, maybe a treehouse, maybe a big Hollywood Mansion...

The only time he actually plays the game outside of build mode is when someone needs his help to fix something in-game.

He does download custom content build items if he feels bored by the current selection.

Oh Crap What Am I Doing?! (Simeon)

Help him. Please.

He’s so confused.

“Luke, why is my sim upset?” “He’s hungry, Simeon.” “Oh, how do I fix that?” “...Simeon-”

There’s a toilet in the middle of the living room.

The fridge is facing the wall.

There’s no bathtub or shower.

The house is on fire- there is no god- AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA-

Okay, once he gets the hang of it he’s sitting pretty. His sims have good jobs, the kids are getting good grades, everything’s fine.

...

But Simeon won’t forget the nightmares.

What Even is This Save? (Solomon)

Solomon’s save is the definition of chaos.

One sim’s a vampire, the other is a spellcaster that really wants to fight the Callientes for some reason, there’s one normal sim that’s always sick for some reason,

It gets weird, confusing, and horrible.

Just how Solomon likes it.

His house makes no sense, like, what even is architecture?

Money cheats are needed because Solomon‘a goal of chaos and confusion is proving to be kind of expensive.

Square up Mortimer Goth, Solomon’s sims are here to steal your weird knight statue that’s worth a shit ton of simoleons for NO REASON.

He joined the scientist career for the sole purpose of getting to the alien planet and kidnapping adding an alien to the household via cheats.

The vampire ended up dying on their wedding day because Solomon forgot that he gave them the sun weakness.

Oh well, the ghost got added to the household! VAMPIRE GHOST!

The Child (Luke)

Before you say Luke’s too young to play the Sims, you should know that I was nine when I first started playing, and I turned out fiiiiiiiiiine.

He’s just happy to be playing.

Look, his sims are gardening :D

Look, two of them are getting married :D

Look, they had a baby :D

Look, his sims are building a rocket ship :D

Look, his sims’s rocket just crashed-

The concept of death hit the little angel right in the face that day.

“*sniffle*... my sims...”

Don’t worry, with tears in his eyes, Luke quit without saving and everything was fine!

Speaking of My Sims, Luke played MySims Sky Heroes and that was when Luke had his first bout of gamer rage.

MC came over to hang out with Solomon and Simeon, and in the distance they could just hear:

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN MY TIME WASN’T FAST ENOUGH TO CONTINUE THE STORY!? I’LL SHOW YOU FAST ENOUGH TIME!”

Okay, maybe Simeon should take the game away... just for a bit... he should take heed not to be bitten by the incredibly angry chihuahua.

Bonus:

MC: Why are our Sims married?

*Insert Boy Here*: Uh... that’s weird... I have no clue why they’re doing that...

[the-himawari]

A3! Izumida Azami - Translation [SSR] MANKAI Party (1/3)

*Please read disclaimer on blog

---

Yuki: …So these are the costumes I’ve come up with.

Azami: Ahh… I can see the image, more or less.

Yuki: Alright. I’ll work out the details later, but this is the basic gist I’m going for.

Azami: Sure. I’ll think up more ideas before our next meeting.

Yuki: …Oh yeah. On a different note, your turn is coming up for that, isn’t it?

Azami: That?

Yuki: Remember, that thing you’re doing in October?

Azami: Ahh, the birthday event…?

Yuki: Don’t you have to film your VLOG soon?

Azami: “A sight you want to show all your fans”, was it? I haven’t decided what I’m gonna film at all yet.

Yuki: Are you going to be okay? There’s not that much time left until the event, you know?

Azami: I know it’d be better to do it early… But when I hear “a sight I want to show my fans” or “what I think my fans want to see”, nothin’ really comes to mind. I thought I’d refer to the comments I got on inste, but the themes sounded really similar, so I wondered if it’d overlap with someone else’s or somethin’…

Yuki: It’s fine if they overlap though. Even if you film using the same theme, it’s not going end up exactly same as the other guys anyways.

Azami: Well, you’re not wrong…

Yuki: If you’re worried about that, then why don’t you watch the videos of the members who went before you? That might help in some way.

Azami: Right, good idea. I’ll ask Kazunari-san to show them to me.

-pause-

Azami: …

Kazunari: So? Do you think everyone’s VLOGs helped?

Azami: Ah, yeah. More or less. Thanks. …

-pause-

Kumon: “I’m filming my VLOG at Tsukushi High School!”

-pause-

Azami: (Kumon’s VLOG, huh… I helped him take that. That feels like ages ago even though it was only recently.) …Ah.

Kazunari: Sounds like you were struck with a good idea~?

Azami: I don’t have all the details yet, but I think I got a pretty nice idea.

-pause-

Yuki: Huh? Are you goin’ out right now, Yuki-san?

Yuki: You too? Are you going shopping?

Azami: Well, yeah. I wanted to take a look at some new cosmetics that launched today. …I’ve also decided what I wanna film for my VLOG, so I’m gonna scope that out too.

Yuki: Hmm. …How about I go with you and take care of the camera for you then?

Azami: Eh, you will?

Yuki: That way you can film finish filming your VLOG today without having to do a preview.

Azami: That’s true… but you’re goin’ out for your own errands, aren’t ya?

Yuki: Yeah, I’m going to buy some fabric.

Azami: I don’t wanna bother you then.

Yuki: No worries. After I help with your task, I’ll ask you to help with mine.

Azami: You just want me to carry your bags, don’tcha?

Yuki: I’m not gonna do it for free, you know? Also, it’s better to do these types of things right away when you think of them.

Azami: …Well. I guess so.

Yuki: If that’s settled, then let’s strike while the iron’s hot. Come on, let’s go.

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