#been given a real opportunity to live the life he always wanted to live with crowley

[schoenpepper]

Despite Everything (It's Still You)

Intro: When he looks at you, he sees everything he could have been.

Warnings: bad grammar, awful writing, not proofread, kinda angsty, more platonic im pretty sure cus its not specified if ur lovers, might be ooc idk and idc, everytime i write idia i feel 10 years older because i cringe at my own internet slang

A/N: Done! Last request is finished, hope you like it worm anon. On my end, this is super rushed and it's not like, my fave ever so ehhhh.

Masterlist

Riddle thought he’d found a comrade in you. Out of everyone in Twisted Wonderland, he’d thought you would be the one to understand him.

He sees it in your posture, always straight and never slouching. You’re good with academics, a diligent student. Like Riddle, you’d gone through life with the iron fist of a well-meaning parent, so surely, you understand him, right? You agree with him. You believe that rules are important to be upheld lest society fall into chaos. It’s such a refreshing feeling to find a person who, like him, thinks that structure and stability are core values of a proper community.

But you don’t. You don’t understand. No one does. His consciousness is flickering between ink and reality. He’s slipping into the grasp of the phantom and he feels himself slowly being consumed. He’s being devoured. Right before the overblot, even you had stood against him. Why? Riddle wasn’t wrong, he was never wrong—the rules aren’t wrong. Because if they are, then what did he lose his entire childhood for? So you must be the one at fault. This is your mistake. You just don’t understand. You tell him that the rules and the competence and the structure matter less than people. You try to convince him that there’s a better way of living. Is there?

Riddle doesn’t know why. He’d thought you were a comrade because he saw his own experiences in yours, but he’d never been so wrong. While he was still caught up in the chains of his mother’s words, you’d already broken free from the cage. You help him to reclaim the shards of childish wonder he’d never been allowed to have. You help him learn how to breathe, how to relax. Little by little, you bring him onto your path.

He doesn’t understand you anymore.

Leona doesn’t have any opinions about you. You never really talked to him at first, and he can respect that; you don’t go out of your way for bothersome, meaningless things.

Every time he sees you, you’re sleeping or slacking off. Whatever, it’s not like he can judge you for it. You also have a real competitive streak for spelldrive, and your wit’s not half bad, especially when compared to the muscle heads in his dorm. Clever and snarky, talented and strong. He can respect you. Maybe just barely, and he’ll never admit it, but he sees a part of himself in you. So, a sort-of equal. He’s still better than you though.

The taste of sand lingers on his tongue as it swirls in the air through the storm. There’s a part of himself he can no longer control. It makes him wrap his fingers around Ruggie’s throat and Leona… He doesn’t want this. But he can’t stop. He can still recognize you on the edge of his vision. Weren’t you just like him? At birth, everything good was handed right over to your older sibling, leaving nothing but scraps for you. You found it unfair too, didn’t you? So why are you standing against him? This is his chance to be someone worth more than his birthright. Why…are you not agreeing with him?

Leona tried to stay away from you. But call it his instinct or whatever; he can’t seem to avoid you at all. The second prince of Sunset Savanna is awestruck by your words. You tell him that birth doesn’t determine everything. You tell him that you’d learned from your own past. That you can still make something of yourself without that which was given. You sure are chatty now, but who is he to stop you?

You’re not his equal. You’d long since left him in the dust.

Azul sees you as an opportunity. He likes you, really, because you know how to do business and you find a way to compromise that doesn’t step on either person’s lines.

It’s not difficult for him to find out about your past, and to be honest, he’s greatly delighted to find out about all that you have in common. Did you feel the way he did when he was isolated and bullied? Did you feel his pain? You were an outcast too, weren’t you? But wow, look at you (and him) now! It’s rare he sees someone as diligent as himself, as cunning and as smart. Resourceful and oh so benevolent, you’d fit right into Octavinelle!

He’d steered himself long ago; he would never be weak again. He had long, long since forgotten humiliation and defeat. But he’s here again. This time, defeat was brought by your hands. Azul had thought you were allies. Business partners, at least. Why betray him like this? Don’t you get it? He’s powerful now! Why try to stop him? Why did you succeed? He’s left in the aftermath of heartache and debris. He doesn’t know why he did the things he did, but he’s sure that he was so close to being all-powerful. Perfect. A being so beautiful and flawless and strong… You took that chance away from him.

Azul wants you out of his life—your presence now is only a reminder of everything he could have been, and everything he failed to be. Unlike him, you’ve already moved on. You’ve learned to forgive your tormentors, and most importantly, you’ve learned to forgive yourself. You tell him that it was never his fault, but that revenge was never meant to be the answer.

He finds that he had nothing in common with you, after all.

Jamil is perceptive. Next to the one who’s attracting the attention of the whole room with a bright smile and sunny disposition, he finds a kindred spirit in you.

You seem responsible enough, and like a mirror, he sees you taking care of that person the way he does with Kalim. It’s easy to pierce through your act because he knows how to do it too. Seemingly not too smart, not too dumb, not too strong, not too weak. You’re good at pretending to be average. Like Jamil, you’ve lived a life of servitude. Are you tired of forced humility? Of feeling like your life isn’t worth anything when compared to the one you serve?

He’s tired too. He’s so, so tired. Why was freedom unreachable to Jamil right from the moment he was conceived? Was he unworthy of a life unbound by shackles? You’re looking at him like he’s a stranger. Jamil looks at you like you’re a mirror. A mirror that’s shattered, and damaged, and every piece is covered with ink and regret. You know what he’s been through, so why are you in his way? You should be an accomplice. Do you not yearn to be your own person? The phantom is whispering promises he knows it won’t keep. But nothing is more tempting than just…one day of happiness. Of his own happiness.

Jamil is inevitably drawn to you. You live so brightly; you see your master as a friend. You tell him he doesn’t need to do the same. That the only thing he needs to do is find a way that works for him. And you’re asking about things he hadn’t thought of before. An employment contract? The legal status of slavery in the Scalding Sands? Wait, you’re serving that person out of your own volition in exchange for salary and other related benefits?

In you, he sees a light at the end of the tunnel.

Vil approves of you. Like looking in a mirror almost, he sees beauty and a passionate drive to remain beautiful in every single way.

You’re a person with a consistent goal and a persistent drive to do better and be better; a hard worker with tenacity like that of the Queen herself. You are no potato. You are a diamond that has found a way to shine uniquely, and like him, you are already a master at your chosen profession. And yet, he sees the trophies and the medals are all silver and never gold. It is frustrating, but Vil knows that you as well know what it’s like to always be second best.

He’d worked so hard. He’d tried his very best. Professional music and choreography, styling and costumes. He’d set up a multi-week boot camp for his team members in order to whip them into shape. It’s all swept away by that person. Again. And again. And again and again and again and— No. No more. He will take matters into his own hands. But you stand in front of him with a familiar determination, only this time, you’re determined to stop him. Rook had betrayed him and now, you do too. Is he not worthy of a victory? Not even once? The blot is so, so ugly. But if it means he’ll get to wipe out everything that’s opposed to him, he’ll take that blot and use it to his own advantage. Like the queen who’d disguised herself as an ugly witch in order to take down the princess; everything can be sacrificed for the sake of ultimate beauty. If you’re not with him, you must be against him.

Vil apologizes sincerely for his faults. He knows he was wrong, even if it hurts his pride to admit it. But you accept him so easily, so readily, he can’t believe you’re acting like he’d never even hurt you. You forgive him. You help him accept his losses and continue to strive. Because you’d been in his position before, but you’d grown to be happy and appreciate the wins in life instead.

You are no mirror image of him. You are better.

Idia’s never been this happy before; through his screen is someone who just gets him. You’re good at games, and an introvert too? Score!

It’s not like, ever, that someone who vibes with his genius just comes strolling through his life, so Magicord bears witness to long, late night chats about anything and everything. You’ve got some real fucked up childhood trauma too, big mood tbh. It’s easy to spill his guts out over the internet, because even then, you still don’t really know him. You like the games and animes that he likes, and he’s so glad that for once, there’s a person out there who’s lived through the same villain-arc that he has.

He can’t rebuild the world if so many noobs are trying to stop him. Why? What’s so wrong with wishing for a world that can fit him and Ortho right in? Why is that too much for him to ask for? Why are you, the person he thought was his cool moots, acting up too? Don’t you like Ortho? Bro…no…you’re not actually doing a protagonist monologue rn, are you? Seriously? You think you can defeat him and his phantom through the power of friendship? Lolz, you’re so lame. If the world was a fairytale, he wouldn’t have been born with this dumb curse. If the world was a fairytale, he would never have been trapped in STYX with no way out. If the world was a fairytale, Ortho would still be alive. But it’s not. So he’ll remake it to be the story he’d always dreamt it to be.

Idia thinks you’re 110% cringe, like actually barf-inducing. But you did kinda save him or whatevs, so he can put up with you. Like, begrudgingly yk. You’re just such a weirdo. He really thought you were just like him, but no. You’ve had therapy. That’s like, actually wild. You try to counsel him too, talking about feelings and whatnot, and how to move past grief so that it no longer consumes you from the inside out.

So it turns out you didn’t have a villain arc like Idia did. You’re the main hero.

Malleus finds you absolutely delightful. To see another who can speak to him without fear or nervousness is a marvelous thing that he cherishes.

You are no fae or long-lived species, but he finds you fascinating. You are intelligent and wise beyond your years. You are powerful in your own right. You are familiar, in every sense of the word. Even your experiences seem to be shared. You’d been orphaned too, and experienced loss and grieved. You’d mourned for far too many loved ones who have left before you. Do you see the present as he does? Do you embrace the past as he does?

The world is a sad, sad place. He would like to change it. Into one with happy ever afters, into one where there is no hunger and no poverty. There will be no suffering. In his hands, he will mold the world into one that is kinder to its people. There will be no death and separation. He’s had far too many of those, enough to last his long lifetime. He’s not wrong. So why…why do you stand against him, weapon pointed towards him? The only thing he wishes for is permanence. Do you not see the vision? There is so much sadness in the world, why do you choose to wake from your beautiful slumber and face it head on? No matter. He will help you, even if you deny him.

Malleus is more than happy to take your hand when it is outstretched towards himself. You teach him so many things he hadn’t realized before, like how to cherish the present and treasure each memory more than attempting to find a solution to make them everlasting. He had believed wholly that he was right; that the answer to death was a long period of dreams in which everyone lives in a happy ending. He had believed you to be similar to himself—he is wrong about many, many things.

You’ve always looked to a brighter future than he could even imagine.

[randomfandomss]

oohhh okay then...alright

What a devastating yet perfect finale. I, of course, anticipated that after Season 1 Aziraphale would have a lot of growing to do for his and Crowley’s relationship to ever work, and guessed that would be taken up this season in some capacity.

...and I am not sure what to say. He still has complete faith in heaven when time and again they have proved themselves to be utter pieces of shit. He believes in himself, that he can make a difference which, yes! He can...but I strongly believe that one has to have the guts see the reality and acknowledge it, with all its goodness and faults in order to be able to really make a difference. So far he has just refused to do so.

He said, “Nothing lasts forever”, yet he has always refrained from questioning the “ineffable plan”. Staying in the comfort of what has been defined as “goodness” by god, never questioning anything at all even though, it has been proved through whatever we see of their shared history that Aziraphale has always grown, learned something and generally become a better angel whenever things had been questioned and the right answers had been given.

He has to break out of this cycle and see things as they are, clearly. About heaven, about self imposed restrictions, norms defined by people who only care about power and don’t give a fuck. He as learned how to live on earth but has he been truly been awake all this time? He needs to start seeing things in full color, that have so far been distorted by his black and white perception for the world. He believes and hopes but the thing he is placing belief in is fundamentally broken.

On the other hand Crowley, to say I've been heartbroken over what happened to him would truly be an understatement and I'm not sure what else to say...So I will leave it at that. The way he found a companion in Aziraphale, someone who accepted him for all he was and tursted him. Someone who SAW him, because I think thats what he would've always wanted. To be understood, when no one, neither Heaven nor Hell ever did. To have this dream shattered into a million pieces once again. When he had finally made peace with his existence, with who he was, all the good and the bad bits, and found some rest from the incessant questioning. When he was ready to just...be, Aziraphale asked him to go back to the place that had hurt him profoundly, SO MUCH. Aziraphale asked Crowley to be restored into what his idea of what good and right is, the ideal existence for him. Crowley has never been an angel nor a demon and Aziraphale knew him since the beginning...how could he not see that?!?! He was the ONLY one who SAW it.

Is he trying to fool himself or Crowley? Aziraphales ideal existence is where something never goes bad or is never wrong, that, in itself is toxic and I believe the next season will obviously focus on that.

I know he desperately wanted to be with Crowley for eternity and live the “ideal” life with him but his definition of ideal itself is wrong. He needs to challenge his beliefs and inspire others to do so as well if he wants to really LIVE and not just exist.

Anywho that is Neil Gaiman’s department, SO!!

SO, I will WAIT to SEE where they go next and I will looking out for that SUPER MEGA APOLOGY DANCE from Aziraphale :D

[veethefreeelf]

Love is a strong word - Y.JH

This is part 2 to ‘Hate is a strong word’ I’M SORRY it took a while but real life got in the way also my eye is being extra annoying! I hope you guys love this as much as I do (づ๑•ᴗ•๑)づ♡

Summary: 

It’s been a year since you moved away to a new branch. If you’re being honest, things haven’t been great. Being away from all you know and all you wanted has made you realize a lot of things and made you wish you had done things differently. Maybe moving back would be better for you. 

Wordcount: 15k

Warnings: lots of conflict and resolutions, super emotional, angsty as fuck, protected v. penetration, fingering, lots of praising and fluff, nothing major, smut is pretty tame and loving, biting because yes

Requested: yes, by popular demand 

P.S - Italic is for thoughts mainly from the characters’ perspective and quotes. Bold is for text messages/calls/voice messages between characters

It’s been a year since you moved to this new city and another branch at your company. It isn’t exactly going like you thought it would. You thought you would make friends easily. You thought your career would have progressed. You thought you wouldn’t think that much about Jeonghan. You were wrong on all counts.

Your career was still at the same stage it was when you moved. No exciting opportunities had opened. You had met some really nice people and your new team was great but you missed your team, you missed your best friends. You even missed Clara’s perverted comments on a daily basis. You missed the team meetings. You missed Jeonghan. You missed him a lot. 

One thing moving to a smaller town and being new will do to you is give you time to think about the past. You had thought a lot about Jeonghan. What your feelings for him were. Why you were trying to keep him away. Why you told yourself you were fine with him being on a date with Hana while fucking you. Being away from all of them gave you a lot of clarity on a lot of things from your past. It also allowed you to feel things without fear and embrace everything you were too scared to do before.

Too bad it was too late. 

You don’t know what happened with Jeonghan and Hana but you imagine them being happy together. And it devastated you. You should’ve said something. You shouldn’t have ran. You were a coward and it made you lose one of the best things in your life all because of pride.

No one from your previous team ever found out about you and Jeonghan. And every time you visited them or they visited you, the subject was never brought up. And, if you were being honest with yourself, you didn’t want to know. ‘Ignorance is bliss’ you tell yourself. At least this way you can pretend he doesn’t hate you now and that he is single and waiting for you. Your therapist disagrees and hopes you will face all your fears the next time you see him.

That’s another thing you did when you moved here. You got help. You got a therapist and it has helped you a lot. If anything, at least this year has made you grow as a person and made you realize how you should’ve handled most things in your life in the past. She has also helped you figure out ways for you to deal with your current feelings and given you tools to keep improving yourself to make sure you make the right decisions for yourself in the future.

It was okay living here though. The apartment wasn’t the best. You missed your baby terribly but you managed. You were adjusting fairly well. Initially, you had cried every day. It was very difficult to not see your people and not sleep in your bed. Now you were better. You were dealing with the consequences of your decision in a better way. You tried visiting your friends more and tried getting to know your new team more as well. You couldn’t deny that you did want to go back. To the branch, to your team, to your apartment, to… Everything that you left behind. But you didn’t think that opportunity would happen any time soon.

Work was always uneventful. All teams got along great and it was easy making decisions together. Also being a smaller branch, you didn’t get as many big accounts, so sometimes it was just a bit too slow for you and what you were accustomed to.

Today you had to finish the monthly report to your manager but not much else was going on so you let your team go home early for the day. You were having a hard time focusing on your work. Something that seems to have started when you moved here. You didn’t use to have this issue before. You were in the middle of your thoughts when your phone rang and snapped you out of it. You looked at it and smiled before answering.

“Hoshi, my beloved… Why are you calling me during work hours?”

“Seriously, this is your fault. Why would you leave us? This new manager is driving us insane” Hoshi told you in a whispered tone.

“Come on… He can’t be that bad. I heard really good things about him from when he was a team member here”

“I don’t know what kind of lies they told you but he is insane. His demands are outrageous. Remember how Jeonghan used to annoy us because he just wanted to? Well, this new guy has made Jeonghan annoy us even more and now Jeonghan is actually right! Can’t you understand how wrong this is?” Hoshi asked you.

“Here I thought I was special and Jeonghan only annoyed me. I guess we were all played, huh?” you asked Hoshi playfully.

“This isn’t funny, Y/N. Jeonghan has to be an asshole now because someone has to stop this guy. He is not ready to be a manager. You need to help us, say something to someone about him, please. I am begging you. We are begging you. And you owe us from leaving us with this lunatic” Hoshi answered in a very serious tone.

“Look, I can try and find out more about him and talk to my manager to see if anything can be done. But you know I don’t have that kind of power. You need to go to HR. Talk to Cass, she is usually the best person to reach for these things and she happens to be super close with Sunny. I will do the best I can on my side but I can’t guarantee anything” you told him sincerely. 

What you didn’t tell him was that you wished you could switch with their manager and get back to your team. You hadn’t told them yet that you wanted to be back. It’s not a possibility and it would only make everyone sadder. You were done being selfish.

“I know. I know, Y/N. It’s just… Why can’t you come back? This guy is clearly not a good fit for our branch and for our team” Hoshi told you in a sad tone.

“It’s not my choice anymore. There’s no openings at all Hoshi. And I made a commitment to this branch when I moved here. I can’t just up and leave” 

“You say that but we both know your worth and how much this company needs you. They would do anything you wanted to keep you. You could request to come back specially with all of us not getting along well with the new team lead. And it’s nothing personal. He just isn’t good at being a manager and he isn’t ready for it at this branch yet” Hoshi continued sincerely.

“I will speak to my manager about him, okay? But that’s all I can do for right now. You should reach out to Cass in HR on your side. The whole team should actually. And any other team that is also being affected by this should speak up as well” you added sternly.

“Okay, Y/N. Thank you. I have to go before he loses his shit. I hope you’re well and please, visit us soon” he said and you both hung up.

In a way Hoshi was right. You could request this change to the company. And it would make sense. Their new manager came from this branch where things are much slower and much easier. He was not ready for the big leagues as a manager at least. It would be easy to convince your manager. 

For now, you would do the right thing and put your personal feelings aside. You would talk to your manager just like you promised Hoshi and it would be up to them on how to proceed from here.

There was a knock on your door and one of your team members - Chris - walked in.

“I thought I told you to go home for the day. Nothing to do around here for now” you told him and smiled.

“Well, you know me. I can’t leave with the boss still around. Hardly seems fair. Also I like to work for my money, thank you very much” he added as he started to move to sit on the chair across from you.

“Never met anyone that wouldn’t rush out of the office if told by their bosses before. Also please don’t call me boss. I told you so many times Chris” you said. Chris smiled.

Chris was a lovely guy. He was your right hand at this branch. He introduced you to everyone and made it easier for you to adjust to the change. He is also one of your best team members. Very hard working and constantly looking to improve and progress his career as well. He reminds you of a younger you.

The only problem with Chris is that he seems very interested in you. He has reached out to you about his feelings several times and wants you to give him a chance. This is one of the reasons you mostly haven’t gotten to know your team in the same way you tried with your previous team.

He was gorgeous. Tall. Muscular. Beautiful Australian accent. You were simply not interested. You had someone else in your mind and in your heart and even though you weren’t strong enough and brave enough to do anything about it, you knew you could never start something new with someone else without resolving the past.

Chris knew it too. Well not the whole ‘having feelings for someone else’ part but that you weren’t interested. And he had been very understanding. He hadn’t pushed at all. Simply told you if anything changed, he would always be open to explore your relationship further. It was sweet. He was one of the few things that kept you sane over here and you didn’t want to lose him.

“Are you going to be done soon? I was thinking maybe we can leave together?” Chris asked you.

“Sorry, no. I’ve been procrastinating for the last 20 minutes and now I’m late in delivering this. You go ahead and leave. I’m also going to try and catch the actual boss before leaving” you told him and he got up to leave.

“Alright, Y/N. See you tomorrow, have a great night” he told you before leaving.

Thankfully, your manager was still here as well and you were able to talk to him about the new team lead that Hoshi told you about. Seungkwan was his name. He was a very passionate team lead over here and yes, demanding but no one had ever had any complaints since he had been promoted. You explained to your boss the pace of the two branches are very different and so are the team members and the demands. You recommended someone check on the teams of the other branch and with Seungkwan himself to understand how everyone is adjusting and if any changes are necessary and your boss agreed. 

You’ve done your part. You have warned the right people and now it’s up to them to assess and make decisions. 

You got home and called Hoshi to tell him and he was relieved. He also reached out to Cass and everyone else on his team did the same. Apparently, tomorrow the advertising team and some IT members are also going to Cass about Seungkwan. Wow. He really hasn’t made any friends. Poor guy. This branch was very happy with him when he was here. Maybe he just isn’t ready for the amount of work and stress the other branch entails. 

During that phone call with Hoshi, he asked you to come visit the following weekend and you agreed. You needed to see all of them. You told him to please arrange for all the team members to be available to hang out and drink and eat and gossip and he was more than happy to start sending voice messages screaming in the group chat you all have together. It made you smile so hard that they were still the same crazy bunch and they still cared so much about you even after you left.

Since you have a big drive to do whenever you visit, you made a request to your boss to book next Thursday and Friday off so you could really enjoy a proper weekend with them and with your apartment. He approved and you were all set for next week. You were so excited too. You couldn’t hide it.

“I wonder if Y/N will ever get this excited to see us in the future” Hyunjin, another one of your team members spoke and it broke you out of your daydream and silly smile.

“Definitely not. We’re the rebound” Felix - your sweetest team member - chimed in.

“Hey! That’s unfair. I’ve never treated any of you like a rebound. How dare you?” you asked Felix and pouted.

Everyone laughed and your team meeting proceeded again without any incidents. Like you said, your team was great and if you hadn’t had the perfect team members before, maybe you could appreciate them more but you truly missed your people. You were so ready to come and see them. 

The week went by fast and at last Wednesday arrived and you couldn't wait for the day to end for you to go home and get ready to leave. Before your day was done, your boss called you into his office to discuss something that apparently couldn’t wait until you got back.

“I know you have to leave and I’m sorry to call you in right now but it’s precisely because you are going to visit them over there that I wanted to get this out of the way before you left” he told you once you sat down in front of him.

“I’m not getting fired, am I? That would lead to a depressing weekend” you said jokingly and you both laughed.

“Not at all. This company will do the best they can to keep you around in any branch and you know that as well. You’re far too valuable. This is about the team lead situation you brought to light to me last week, actually” he told you and you sat there silently waiting for him to continue.

“After we talked about it, I brought it up to the head of HR and they actually talked to everyone at that branch including Seungkwan and his manager to understand what could be happening. It was determined that Seungkwan is not ready for a managerial position at that branch just yet. However, he still wanted to stay on as a team member for the marketing team and learn from the new team lead that joins their team instead of coming back to this branch” he added and you nodded.

“Now, as much as the possibility of losing you pains me personally, it’s up to me to let you know that the company is actually giving you the choice. Since you were the one that started bringing this to everyone’s attention and you were extremely successful in leading the team in the other branch before, they wanted to give you the opportunity to return to the branch as team lead if you wanted to”

“Return?” you asked confused.

Your manager laughed.

“Yes. You have one of two options. Return there as team lead and continue on where you left off with the team and to your success or stay here with us” he said and you looked down.

“Look, I know this branch isn’t working exactly as you thought it would for you. I’m not blind to that. Not only that but the opportunities that you were told you were getting here haven’t happened and won’t anytime soon. So even though I don’t want to lose you, I really want you to think it over” 

“Does anyone else know about this? Team members, branches?” you asked him.

“No. The managers know but no one else. They will only be told after a decision is made. If you choose to stay with us, they will hire an outsider for the team lead position at the other branch. If you choose to return to your branch, we will most likely promote Chris as the team lead here” he answered you.

“Chris would be great as a team lead for this team. They all trust him and he has seen me do a lot of the team lead tasks so he’ll learn quickly” you told your manager.

“Does this mean you’re choosing to return to them then?” he asked you and you paused.

“No… I don’t know yet. Can I think this over the weekend? I’m assuming you also told me this today to have me think it over while I’m there” you said and laughed lightly.

“Of course and yes, that’s exactly why I told you. Monday we can discuss this more but go have fun and rest” he told you. You said your goodbyes for the weekend and went home to pack and get ready.

It’s funny. You spent most of this year wanting this opportunity to open up. And now that it’s here, you’re hesitating. 

Going back there would mean facing a lot of things you left behind. Things you weren’t sure you were completely ready for just yet. Sure, you had been working on yourself and on making better decisions for yourself and on being more honest with everyone around you but you were still scared.

Returning also meant finding out what happened with Jeonghan this last year and you didn’t know if you were ready for that. If he was still dating Hana and you had to start seeing them together every day, you might lose your mind completely. Not knowing anything made you feel that maybe, just maybe, he was waiting for you just like you were waiting for him. You didn’t want that delusion to be shattered by reality.

On the other hand, you missed everyone terribly. You missed the pacing of your job, your people, your apartment, your favorite restaurants. Would you really pass this opportunity up just because you were scared of getting your heart broken?

You haven’t decided yet. Maybe your manager is right. Seeing everyone and going back there can really help you make a final decision and the right decision for yourself personally and professionally. 

The next day you were well rested and ready for the drive. All you could think about was seeing your apartment and lying in your bed.

As soon as you got to your apartment, you felt like a new person. You loved the feeling of coming home. Your actual home. You went out to get groceries and came back home to cook a nice meal and hang out at your place. You missed this so much, being by yourself in your home and binging a show on the couch. This was all you had planned for today. 

Tomorrow you were meeting them at your usual place where you used to have most of your team building dinners. You missed that place too even if the last time you were there you were faced with Jeonghan and Hana on a date. You were not going to let them ruin a great restaurant for you. Tomorrow you would enjoy hanging out with everyone and hopefully get a better understanding of what the right decision is for you. For now, you’ll just enjoy your cozy home you missed so much.

The next day and a half went by fast and it was now Friday night and you were getting ready to go to dinner. You couldn’t wait to see them and get a little crazy. It’s been such a long while since you were all together like this.

You took a Uber and got to the restaurant a bit early but you were just too excited. As you were getting ready to go in, you heard Hoshi calling your name from across the street.

“Y/N! You’re early! Aren’t you a bit too excited to hang out with your favorite people in the entire world?? Simp” Hoshi yelled from across the street as Seokmin was still getting out of the Uber behind him.

“I missed this restaurant and I’m hungry. Don’t flatter yourself!” you yelled back and the three of you laughed.

Hoshi and Seokmin crossed the street and you finally hugged. You missed them so much.

“We should go in. Everyone else is already here and Shua was already texting me and being clingy. He really missed you” Seokmin said and started moving towards the entrance of the restaurant. 

“Shua? You invited him? I thought it was just us” you said and your heart started beating rapidly inside your chest. 

“Oh it wasn’t me, Y/N. Hoshi here invited the whole advertising team and they all accepted” Seokmin said as he smiled mischievously at Hoshi.

“Thanks, Seokmin…” Hoshi said and turned to you.

“You invited them? Why? Hoshi I wanted to hang out just us like the old days… I thought I was pretty clear…” you said and Seokmin patted Hoshi on the back and got in the restaurant leaving you both alone.

“Look, they overheard me and I felt bad not inviting them. Shua and Wonwoo talk about you all the time. They miss you too, Y/N” 

“Why not invite just them then? Why everyone?” you asked. You were trying to look behind Hoshi into the restaurant but you couldn’t see the table you were all sitting at.

“Is this about Jeonghan? I thought you two were cool…” Hoshi asked as he scratched the back of his head.

“It’s fine. Don’t worry about it. I was just surprised. Thank you for getting everyone together, Hoshi” 

He smiled and you both started to go into the restaurant and to the back towards your table. There were a lot of you so they placed your table at the back of the restaurant for more privacy. Also they knew your team well and how loud you could get with drinks in you so it was the overall best option for everyone.

“Stop everything! She has arrived!” Hoshi yelled as you two got to the table and almost everyone jumped.

“I will have a heart attack working with you people” someone you didn’t know spoke up and you stared at Hoshi.

“That’s our new team lead. He invited himself” Hoshi whispered to you.

“So you’re the one terrorizing these teams? Gotta say… Very impressive. Here I thought I was special but you can get everyone just as mad” you said and everyone laughed.

Jeonghan had been staring at you since the moment you walked up to the table. You could feel his eyes on you. You were trying to act normal in front of your team but you wanted to talk to him. Maybe tonight is not the best night to talk things over but you needed to at least understand if there even was a possibility of talking things over. You definitely don’t think you can come back if things are not resolved between the two of you.

Dinner with everyone was easy. Everyone was telling stories and telling you the updates for everything and you even got to know Seungkwan a bit more. He seemed like a wonderful guy. He was loud and he and Hoshi were always on each other’s nerves but if you were to come back, you could see this working well. He would make a wonderful addition as a team member.

Shua, Seungcheol and Wonwoo tried pretending to be upset with you for a bit but that all fell to pieces when you all got into your usual shenanigans. Another thing you realize now that you’re here is that you definitely neglected these three boys when you left. You completely lost touch with them and it wasn’t fair to them. You’re lucky they’re being merciful.

Silvia has gotten really close with Seokmin you can tell. It’s cute. She has always been the quiet one whenever your teams are together and it’s good to see she feels a bit more comfortable around everyone with Seokmin by her side.

Jeonghan didn’t say much throughout the dinner. He laughed sometimes and smiled but didn’t chime in much. You didn’t know what changed (if anything) in his life since you left. Maybe he was doing this on purpose. You wish you were brave enough to ask him directly in front of everyone.

As usual, Clara breaks you out of your thoughts by saying the most outrageous shit out of nowhere.

“So, Y/N… Be honest… Have you fucked that Chris guy on your team yet?” 

There is a moment where everyone is silent and then a few seconds later of staring at each other everyone bursts out laughing.

“I missed your ridiculousness, Clara. Thank you, I really needed a good laugh” you said as you continued laughing.

“Oh come on! Seriously! What’s wrong with you? This guy was so fucking hot, I couldn’t believe my eyes when I went there. Almost requested a transfer instantly” Clara added and you kept laughing.

“How hot?” Sunny asked and everyone stared at her still laughing.

“Wow, I leave for a year and Sunny turns into Clara… Seungkwan, you gotta get a handle on the children” you said and Seungkwan laughed.

“Tall, muscular, Australian hunk. Sunny, literally one of the hottest men I’ve seen with my own two eyes and he was all over Y/N. I was so jealous… Why do you always get the hottest guys to be into you and you don’t even take advantage of it? Unfair” Clara answered Sunny and Sunny gasped.

“Do you have pictures?” Sunny asked.

“Of course, I have pictures of all my coworkers on my phone. Because that’s not creepy at all” you added and got up to use the restroom.

“I follow him on Instagram, let me show you” Clara said and you shook your head and continued going to the bathroom.

When you came back, Clara and Sunny were still looking at Chris’s Instagram page and drooling. They started telling you what an idiot you were for not even trying to date him and you just shrugged.

“But seriously, no boyfriends we should know about?” Shua asked and you were surprised by his question.

Everyone turned to you.

“No. Not really interested in dating at the moment. Still have a few things to resolve in that arena in my life before I even consider starting to date again” you answered honestly and you hoped Jeonghan picked up on what you were trying to say.

Shua caught that as well, smiled at you and looked at Jeonghan who was now staring at his empty plate.

Clara and Sunny booed at you and everyone moved on from that topic and continued to chat about changes or new things they purchased or hobbies they started after you left. You were trying hard to pay attention to them but you needed to talk to Jeonghan. He just didn’t seem interested in talking to you.

As you were trying to convince yourself to just go for it, Jeonghan got up and told everyone he had to leave and your heart sank. There goes your chance.

“Late date?” Clara asked as she raised her eyebrows at him and everyone laughed and started telling her off. You pretended to laugh but you didn’t find any of this funny.

“No” was all he said before saying his goodbyes and leaving. He didn’t even look at you before leaving. He was always so unfair. As far as he knows, you may never be back here again. He may never see you again. Yet, he doesn’t seem to care. He doesn’t even care enough to tell you goodbye. Maybe coming back here would be a huge mistake if this is how you’re going to feel every day.

Seokmin snapped you back from your thoughts by squeezing your hand and smiling at you. He didn’t know about you and Jeonghan but he seemed to understand your sadness at that moment while everyone else didn’t notice anything.

You thought about maybe ending the night early but that wouldn’t be fair to anyone else there so you pushed through. You also deserved to have fun with your friends. You have plenty of time to be sad when you get home.

The rest of the night went by fast. The group moved from the restaurant to a karaoke bar and everyone was having a blast. You might have had too much to drink but you needed to stop thinking about Jeonghan and focus on your friends so alcohol it is. You were going to regret this tomorrow. 

And regret it you did. You woke up with a huge hangover. Your head was pounding. Why did you drink this much? Oh yeah… Jeonghan. At least everyone seemed to have enjoyed the night. You should’ve drank more water though. You got up, took an ibuprofen, showered and decided to rest more until your headache went away. 

It sounded like a good plan and was going great until someone decided to ruin your entire mood by ringing your doorbell. You tried ignoring it and turned around on your bed to go back to sleep but the doorbell kept ringing.

You got up and went to the door. Whoever it was, they better be ready for a fight. You were tired, angry, sad and out of patience for any nonsense today.

You didn’t even check the peephole. You get to the door and you swing it open, ready to fight and when you finally see who’s on the other side, you stop.

“Not a good morning, Y/N?” Jeonghan asks, laughing lightly.

You sigh and gesture at him to come in.

“What gave it away? The disheveled hair? The swinging the door open?” you asked as you sat on the couch.

“The general rage, yes. Had a good time last night after I left, huh?” he asked and he joined you on the couch.

“I forgot how insane they are when they drink. I missed everyone so much that I let myself get carried away. Mistake”

You both laughed. And then there was silence. You couldn’t take this anymore. It was now or never.

“Why did you ignore me last night? You barely said anything or even looked at me. You didn’t even say goodbye. That could’ve been the last time you saw me and you didn’t even say anything. Why?” you asked him.

“I’ll never be able to say goodbye to you, Y/N. I couldn’t do it a year ago and I can’t do it now” he answered without hesitation.

You nodded.

“Why did you come here today? You didn’t seem to be interested in talking to me yesterday” you asked again.

“It wasn’t easy seeing you. After all this time. I went there because I needed to see you but I didn’t know if I should be there. If you wanted me there. I didn’t want to ruin your night but I couldn’t not go. I was being selfish” 

“So you decided to leave early yesterday and come here today and ruin a whole new day for me?” you asked in a playful tone but he didn’t laugh with you.

“I wanted to see you, Jeonghan. I know I wasn’t being obvious about it yesterday but everyone was there. I didn’t want to ruin the night for them. It was the first time we were all together in a long time. I couldn’t be selfish. But I wanted to be” you added to your previous statement.

He nodded.

“Then can we talk? Right now? It’s why I came here. There’s a lot of things we need to talk about. I should’ve done this earlier. Way before last year even. I’m a coward when it comes to you” Jeonghan said.

“Yes, please” you answered and you both smiled.

“I’ve never been the smoothest guy around. The guy that can easily talk to a girl he likes. I’ve always gotten weird and acted stupid. I don’t know why. And now I would like to think I’m better but back then when we met 6 years ago, I was still that stupid kid that didn’t know how to act when he liked a girl. That’s kind of why this started. Back then, when I first saw you, I wanted to get to know you more. You were so beautiful, I still remember what you were wearing the first day we met. But you didn’t seem to notice me. At all. The only time you acknowledged me was in an interdepartmental meeting when I made a snappy comment and you started getting snarky with me. I thought this was my shot. This is how you were going to notice me” he started and you scoffed.

“So you decided to be an asshole from then on? Why not just come to me and talk to me?” you asked.

“Like I said, I was a dumb kid. I wanted your attention but I wasn’t brave enough or confident enough to simply walk up to you and start a conversation so I decided having you mad at me was better than having you not know I even existed. Things went downhill fast from there. You were hating me more and more and I was… Liking you more and more. But after a year of this dynamic, I didn’t know how to stop it and just talk to you. Seungcheol always gave me so much shit for it. He kept saying I was going to regret not having talked to you and gotten to know you the proper way. That it was going to bite me in the ass and he was right” he sighed as he continued.

So that’s what Seungcheol meant when he asked you if you didn’t know why Jeonghan treated you this way. He knew all along of Jeonghan’s feelings for you and he probably thought you knew as well, somehow.

“Y/N, I’ve had feelings for you from day one. That’s why it hurt so much hearing you say you hated me even if I brought it on myself. When you gave me a chance to have you in my arms, even if it was just that night at the party, I didn’t hesitate. I couldn’t. I had wanted you for so long. Desperate for your attention. Part of me wishes I stopped myself from having you that night. I should’ve told you the truth right there but I couldn’t risk you leaving. I was selfish that night too” 

You looked down and he sighed. 

You didn’t know what to say. Even though this made sense, it also didn’t. You still had so many questions. You needed to know everything. No more fear. No more being a coward.

You looked back at Jeonghan.

“Why did you sleep with Hana then? If you had feelings for me from the start?” you asked and he laughed.

“Another stupid mistake I made because of my feelings for you” he said and you raised an eyebrow at him.

“Do you remember the only year we had the Christmas party at the office? The one where the office almost got destroyed?” he asked and you nodded.

“Before that party I promised myself I was going to talk to you. Really talk. Maybe drunkenly confess my feelings for you and hope for the best. But you spent the first few hours of that party with Jackson. Smiling and laughing and having fun and I was fucking miserable watching you two. I started drinking a bit too much and when Hana came to me I thought ‘fuck it’. If you could live your life and probably end up dating Jackson, I could fuck whoever I wanted too. I didn’t really think about the consequences of sleeping with her until it was done. She told the whole office and the look of disgust you gave me when you found out was enough for me to realize that if I hadn’t ruined all my chances with you before, I definitely had then”

“You’re an idiot” you told him.

“I know” he agreed.

“Even if you regretted it afterwards, you seemed to have a good time. She said a lot of things about that night. Hard to believe you cared about me that much but fucked her that good. Or maybe I’m just a hopeless romantic that doesn’t understand fucking without feelings” you said and you looked down.

You know you wanted the truth but you had forgotten how much the truth could hurt.

“You fucked me and you hated me though” he said and you scoffed.

“You really are an idiot…” you said and sighed.

He looked at you with a puzzled look in his eyes. 

“Don’t look so confused. I’ll explain my side soon. Continue” you told him.

“About what she said, it was all lies. I may have been drunk but I remember that night clearly. It was terrible. I didn’t even put in an effort. I didn’t care. I was picturing you the whole time, I’m actually surprised I didn’t say your name. Probably because nothing felt good. I just wanted to get it over with. When we were done, I left immediately without even saying a word to her. I was disgusted with myself. I went to sleep that night hoping you would never find out about it. You know I’m like you, I know you’ve heard it around the office too. I don’t just fuck people, I don’t do the fuck buddy thing. I’ve always been looking for the real deal. I will always regret that night” he said and you started to understand him a bit more, but there were still a couple of things on your mind when it came to Hana.

“Why let her hang around you all the time at the office? If you were mad about her telling everyone and if you really weren’t interested, why let her follow you around and grab you whenever she wants?” you asked.

He smiled at you.

“The first time she did it in front of you, it seemed like you were jealous. I didn’t know if it was wishful thinking on my part, but the look in your eye when she started touching me gave me hope. Again, I’m an idiot, I know” he answered and now it actually made you laugh lightly.

“Can’t argue with that” you said and he laughed with you.

“Last question about her and I think you know what’s coming” you said and he sighed and nodded.

“If all of this is true, what happened when I met you both at the restaurant? She said you were on a date. Why?” 

“This one is actually an easy one to answer. We were never on a date. Woozi in IT invited me out for dinner and drinks to join their team dinner since I wasn’t doing so well and I agreed. When the time of the dinner came, everyone else canceled except her so I was stuck with her. Not sure if it was her plan all along but I know Woozi wouldn’t do that to me so I guess it worked in her favor somehow. I decided to stay because I was hungry and tired and wanted a drink and then we ran into you. When she said it was a date, I really wanted to say something different but the look in your eyes… I knew I needed to explain myself outside of that situation. You weren’t going to let me do it there specially since you were late for your team dinner”

He does know you well. You would’ve left either way that night. What you still don’t understand is why he didn’t tell you all of this before you left.

“Why didn’t you tell me all of this? Why did you let me leave thinking you were fucking me while dating her?” you finally asked.

“Before that restaurant situation, you had been distancing yourself from me. I didn’t know why but I was too scared to find out. I thought maybe you were done. With us. With me. I didn’t think you would want to hear anything from me anymore. And when you also didn’t reach out or asked for an explanation about Hana, I thought that meant you didn’t care. I thought you didn’t care if I was dating her or not because we were just fucking. I thought if I reached out and told you the truth, you were going to tell me it was just sex. That it was never more than that between us. I didn’t want to hear that”

“So you let me leave? No goodbye. No explanation. Just a text. How do you think I felt when you did that?” you asked with tears in your eyes now.

“I know how much I fucked up. After sending that text and staring at my phone, I realized I would rather let you know the whole truth even if it meant you rejecting me than this. I drove to your place but when I got there, you were gone” he added and he also had tears in his eyes now.

“Why didn’t you ever call me? Or even texted me? Why not tell me all of this even if I was away?” you asked him as you cried softly.

“I didn’t think you’d want to hear from me. You had this new life now in a different city with new people. I thought you were over whatever happened with us”

“I spent this whole year thinking about you” you said and he nodded sadly.

There was a silence in the room with you now. 

He had told you the whole truth. Since the very first day. No more hiding. 

It was your turn now but you didn’t even know where to start so you told him just that.

“Thank you for telling me this now. I also have some explaining to do but I don’t even know where to start…”

“From the beginning. From when we met, please. I need to know” Jeonghan told you and you agreed.

“I thought you were the most beautiful human I’d ever seen. When we first met. I’m also not the best at talking to people I like. I usually don’t, at all. I stay away and just enjoy the person from afar. It seems easier than being rejected. Adding that to how obsessed I was with the company and being hired there, I guess it would have seemed like I didn’t notice you at all. But I did. Which is why I was so pissed every time you were an asshole to me. Not only was the career I dreamed of taking a hit but the guy I had a crush on apparently wanted to destroy my career” you said and laughed.

He laughed with you.

You were both idiots. 

“After that, I accepted that you just hated me. I had to move on or I would end up breaking my own heart. So I told myself that I hated you. I would hate you from then on and treat you exactly like you were treating me. I spent years avoiding what I really felt about you. It seemed easier that way. I needed to focus on my career and ignore whatever was going on with you. It was the smartest decision for me” you told him and continued.

“I didn’t realize all of this until I left though. Being away and getting a therapist helped me realize all of my feelings for you. Made me understand what I did wrong and what I wish I could change. Distancing myself from you after our last night here was a huge mistake. But at the time I was confused. I still thought I didn’t like you at all so how could I let you in here. I didn’t want to see the truth. I wasn’t ready for it. It’s easier now, even if it hurts, knowing exactly what my feelings for you are” you added.

“Is that why you didn’t say anything after the restaurant incident?” he asked you.

“Yeah. I had already been distant from you trying to sort out my feelings and when I saw you with her I made my decision. Maybe it was best if we stopped whatever it was we were doing. Then when we didn’t speak after that and my manager gave me the option to leave, again, it seemed easier than trying to deal with everything. I used my career as an excuse but I just wasn’t ready to face this. I am now” you answered.

You were trying to explain everything to him but sometimes it’s hard to put all of this in words. It’s been 6 years of confusion and misunderstandings. Where do you go from here?

“I don’t want to ask this but what about Jackson? What happened at the Christmas party?” he asked and it surprised you.

“Honestly I don’t even remember that party at all. I don’t remember spending that much time with Jackson. I never liked him and I always knew he was just trying to fuck me. I was nice to him at first but I guess over time I lost patience and that’s why now it may be more obvious of how not interested I am” you told him and he nodded.

“And Chris?” he asked in a more hushed voice.

You laughed.

“Chris is a great guy. And he has told me he’s interested in me. I told him no. I still had things from my past to sort out and wasn’t interested. He understood. We’re friends. Sure, he still hopes one day I’ll give him a chance but I already told him many times not to wait for that” you said and he smiled.

You smiled too.

You weren’t sure if there was anything else he wanted to know but it seems most of your past issues have been explained on both sides. Past has been resolved in a way. But what about the future? Is there a future? You’re trying to figure out how to ask this question when he interrupts your thoughts.

“What about now? What happens now? You’re still living far away, it would be tricky but I want to see you again. And a lot more. Maybe we can go back to how things were between us…” Jeonghan said and the last part he said with more nervousness in his tone.

Thing is… He still didn’t say what his feelings were. He said he liked you but that could mean anything. Now he wants to go back to how things were? No… That’s not what you want at all. You thought you had been clear.

“No, I don’t want to go back to how things were. I know that for sure” you told him and his smile fell from his face.

“Oh… Hmm… Okay… I thought that was what we both wanted. I guess I got that wrong” he said as he started to get up from the couch and move towards the door. 

“Wait, where are you going? You didn’t let me finish” you said as you followed behind him.

“No, I get it. I thought things could go back to that but they can’t. We’ve been hurting each other for so long. I wouldn’t want to be with me either. Sorry. I should go. I’m meeting Seungcheol for lunch but thanks for listening to me” he said as he left your apartment.

You were left alone, in the middle of your living room, confused and staring at your door.

‘What the hell just happened?’ you asked yourself. You thought the conversation was going well. You were both reaching an agreement so why would he leave. He didn’t even let you explain what you meant when you said you didn’t want things to go back to the way things were. Was that all he wanted from this? To explain everything and then go back to just fucking each other? Why was he always so confusing? Things between two people aren’t supposed to be this difficult. You can’t even hold a conversation without misunderstandings. How was this ever going to work?

You were left confused and wondering what any of it meant for the both of you.

The rest of the weekend went by fast. You met up with some of the guys for lunch and just to hang out and Sunday came fast. Before you knew it, it was time to leave again. You couldn’t leave without trying to understand what went wrong and what you said that made Jeonghan leave so abruptly. You decided to call him. He didn’t answer so you texted him.

“Hey, I’m sorry to bother you and do this on short notice but I would really like to see you before I have to leave today. I feel like our conversation ended and you left on another misunderstanding. Can you please, make some time for me today? I have to leave by 6PM, the latest. I’m free the rest of the day. Let me know, okay?”

Nothing.

He didn’t answer the text. He never called you back. 

It was 6:30PM and you were still in your apartment staring at your phone, waiting for him.

Crying, you pick up your bags and get ready to leave.

This would never work. He is unable to resolve things by talking. He always runs away from you. You would end up getting your heart broken in the future.

Not that your heart isn’t broken right now. You opened up to him and told him the whole truth and somehow he chose to listen to the wrong thing and leave. This time you were proud of yourself though. You reached out to him and you tried to resolve everything before having to leave again. It was his choice to not listen. There’s only so much you can do. Relationships are a two way street. You can’t keep fighting for something while the other person simply gives up and walks away. It’s exhausting and you will always end up in tears. 

Maybe this was for the best.

That four hour drive was done listening to sad songs and trying to tell yourself you’ll be just fine. You still had no fucking clue of what you wanted to do. Even though you had an amazing time with everyone including the new guy, this situation with Jeonghan might prove to be a little too much for you to handle. 

You needed to sleep on this and hope your boss didn’t ask you for your answer first thing in the morning.

The next day you went to work and went back to normal. The usual meetings, usual coachings, usual schedule. It felt normal. 

By the end of the day you still didn’t know what to do. You missed everything about the other branch, city and people. But you didn’t know if your heart could take any more hits. Going back there wasn’t going to be easy.

You were split. 

It was the end of the day and you were packing up to go home. Your boss hasn’t mentioned it at all. You talked about work during the day and he checked-in with you and the team but he didn’t ask you anything else. You felt relieved. Maybe he would give you more time before making a final decision.

As you reached for the door of your office to leave, there’s a knock.

It was your boss.

Fuck. You knew it was too good to be true.

“Hey again, Y/N. Going home?” he asked you.

“Yup. Not a fan of overtime especially when the work's all done” you told him and you both laughed.

“Look, I don’t want to pressure you but we have their branch breathing down our necks. They need an answer asap. I assume you don’t have one yet since you didn’t talk to me about it but just a heads up, they might contact you directly if you take too long deciding” he let you know and you sighed.

“I want to go back. Nothing against this branch but it’s just a bit too slow paced for me. You’re a great manager and I’ve really enjoyed my time here but it’s been difficult adjusting even to my apartment. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you earlier today. Not gonna lie, before this moment, I had no clue what I wanted but as soon as you asked me I knew what the answer was” you answered him and he laughed.

“I get it. You and that team are the dream team. Hard to move on from that when that’s what you love. I don’t hold it against you. We can let the team here know tomorrow so that you can start helping Chris with stepping into the role, is that okay?”

“Of course but this soon? When do I have to leave by?” you asked a bit surprised on how fast this was moving.

“They want you back there asap. I don’t blame them either. I’ll let them know of your decision and let’s say two weeks? Would that be enough time for Chris to get prepared? What do you think as his current team lead?”

“That’s more than enough time. Like I told you before, Chris was already aware and saw me do a lot of the team lead’s tasks. It should be an easy adjustment for him” you said and he nodded.

“Alright, then! Have a good night and we’ll meet with your team first thing in the morning” your manager told you as he walked out with you.

“One more thing… Can we not tell the team over there? I wanted to surprise them, if that’s okay?” you asked your manager and he laughed again.

“I’m okay with it. Let me ask them over there and I’ll let you know tomorrow, yeah?” he answered you and you nodded.

You got to your apartment, sat down on the couch and started laughing.

You have no idea what came over you but when your manager asked what you wanted to do, you couldn’t help but say you wanted to go back. This whole thing with Jeonghan won’t be easy and you will hurt but at least you’ll be around the people you love most in the world, in your comfy home that you love so much.

You couldn’t wait to leave.

The next two weeks went by so slow. Every day seemed to drag on forever. This was how bad you wanted to go back. 

Your team was sad but they understood your decision and they were also super excited about having Chris step up. 

You spent those two weeks helping Chris and preparing him for the role and by the end he was full on taking care of the team while you shadowed along. Maybe that’s why the days went by even slower at the end. You were watching Chris do your job and reporting to your manager but you weren’t doing much more.

Your manager was able to convince the other branch about keeping this a secret for now. Seungkwan was informed and he also promised to not say anything since he knew what this meant for you all. He may have only spent that one night around all of you but it was clear to him you belonged there with the team and that he still had a lot to learn before stepping up at that branch.

It was difficult not to say anything in the group chat specially since your team figured out some moves in the team were going to happen but they just didn’t know what and they kept talking about it and speculating. They were suspicious it had to do with Seungkwan since they all filed the same complaint with HR but they weren’t sure since Seungkwan wouldn’t tell them either.

The day before you left you had dinner with Chris and the boys to say goodbye. They were a great team, really. You just didn’t belong here with them. You hoped the best for them and you knew Chris would grow a lot more in the future if he kept working the way he had.

The next day you drove home. Home. Felt good to say and to think about. You couldn’t wait to get there. 

You had to be careful once you got there though. You didn’t want to get caught and be told on before Monday. Clara lives very close to you so grocery shopping was going to be a risk but you had to risk it because there was no way you weren’t going to cook and enjoy some nice home cooked meals. 

Those days went by fast and so far no one had found out you were back and would be back working at the branch.

When you got to the office, you went straight to your manager’s office and as soon as you walked in, you two shared a huge hug. She had missed you just as much as you had missed her. Having another woman team lead to fight Jeonghan’s manager was much needed since he had been on a whole other level after you left.

Part of you thinks your manager asked the whole office to join the meeting so that she could rub it in his face that you were back permanently to make his life hell if needed.

The time for the meeting was finally here and your heart was beating fast. You’re excited to see your team’s reaction but also you can’t deny that you want to see how Jeonghan reacts. 

How can something so simple be so terrifying?

When everyone was gathered in the big conference room, your manager started the meeting by saying there would be a few changes happening in the marketing team. She kept her speech short and gave Seungkwan the floor.

“So as you guys know, I transferred here from a much slower branch. When I was team lead there things were very different. I adjusted well and got along well with everyone. Here, things have been tricky. Even though I get along with my team on a personal level, things have been less than ideal on a professional level. When all of this became clear to all of us, I was approached by my manager and I was informed I was going to be replaced here as team lead. I could either choose to stay here as a member of the marketing team, or go back to my previous branch as team lead” he paused then and everyone started looking around in confusion. Probably because they knew you were the team lead at that branch so what did this all mean?

“Well, I chose to stay here as a team member. I wanted to learn from the new team lead whoever that was. Initially I didn’t know who that was. The final decision hadn’t been made but once I found out who it was, I was incredibly happy to be working and learning from her. I don’t want to prolong this anymore than I already have so let’s all please, welcome the new team lead for our marketing team!” he said and started clapping.

Everyone else joined and started to look around trying to find the person who was replacing Seungkwan. 

You got in the room from behind your manager and as soon as Hoshi’s eyes landed on you, he ran to you and picked you up while screeching like an insane bird.

“Put me down, you maniac!” you said and as soon as he did everyone from your team ran up to hug you.

“Better surprise than last time?” you asked and they all nodded.

You were all in your little world and your manager interrupted you.

“Not to ruin this family reunion but do you have a few words for everyone?” she asked.

“I’m not very good at these things as you probably found out last time so I don’t have a lot to say. It was a good experience over there but not enough for me professionally. Also I missed my team and my home. And now I’m back so I’m looking forward to working and/or fighting some of you” you said and everyone laughed. 

You found Jeonghan in the back behind everyone. He had a blank expression on his face and as soon as your manager told everyone they could go, he was the first one out the door.

You were disappointed but not surprised. This reaction was very him.

Shua, Wonwoo and Seungcheol ran up to you and welcomed you back. Told you they missed you. Silvia was a bit more chill about it but you could tell she was happy mostly because Seokmin was happy to have you back. You’ll take it either way.

From then on everything went back to normal. Usual team meetings, usual interdepartmental meetings, usual lunch with everyone. After three weeks, it felt like you had never left. Seungkwan was a great addition to your team just like you thought. He may have not been ready for the team lead position but he was an extraordinary team member to your team.

Everything went back to what it was supposed to be. You were so happy to be back even if things with Jeonghan stayed the same. He never answered that text and never called you back and ever since you came back, he never spoke to you. You talked during meetings but about work only. He seemed to have found a good balance of being an asshole and simply accepting your teams’ proposals when they made perfect sense. Everything was going great but somehow, when you were alone in your office and at home, you still felt empty.

Right now you were in your office, looking out the window. The day has been going okay so far, you just didn’t feel good. It seems the more time passes like this between you and Jeonghan, the worse you feel every single day. 

As you were almost falling asleep in your chair staring out the window, there was a knock at your door. You asked them to come in and to your surprise, Shua walks through the door.

“May I come in and sit? Do you have a few minutes to chat, Y/N?”

“Hmm… Yeah, go ahead. Surprisingly, it’s been a slow day. What do you need to talk to me about? Is it about the Privé campaign proposal?”

“Actually it’s not work related. It’s personal” he said and you started to get nervous.

You gulped.

“Okay” was all you said.

“Look, I don’t know how your conversation went the last time you were here before you moved back but he’s been miserable since then. From what I can tell so far, you haven’t been doing much better so forgive my intrusion but what the hell happened that day?” Shua asked and you just broke down.

You started sobbing. He locked your office door and came back to you to hug you. 

You got up from the chair and you both moved to the couch in your office.

“Sorry” you said as he handed you the tissue box from your desk before sitting back down again next to you.

“I don’t know what happened. We were talking and then he just left out of nowhere. Then Sunday I asked him to meet with me so we could fix whatever misunderstanding this was and he ignored both my call and text. He hasn’t spoken to me since that day. I wanted to know what made him leave but he won’t give me the chance” you told him and you tried to stop crying.

“He told me you confessed to him and then turned him down. It didn’t make sense to me at the time but he’s sure you rejected him” Shua said and you looked back at him confused.

“I didn’t reject him, Shua. I told him no when he asked if things could go back to the way they were before with us because that’s not what I want. I… Have feelings for him. Why would I want to go back to being fuck buddies or whatever the fuck we were before?” you asked and you hoped he would understand what you meant.

“You love him and you wanted a relationship… You weren’t rejecting him, you were rejecting being fuck buddies…” he said as he looked around and scoffed.

“Love is a strong word” you told him and sighed.

“Is it though? Look at you two. You’re both miserable and for what? You should be together, Y/N. How much longer are you going to keep hurting each other?” he asked and you got offended.

“Hurting each other? He’s the one that keeps making shit decisions and not listening to me. Even when I reach out to him, he pushes me away. He’s the one constantly breaking my heart and I’m the one stupid enough to keep letting him” you said as you got up back to your desk.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean for it to sound that way. I’m just tired of watching you both fight this. I know you’re tired of trying and being the one pushing but maybe you should do it one last time. Tell him what you told me and make sure he understands you can’t be the only one fighting for the two of you. That he can’t run away any time he thinks he heard something he doesn’t like”

“Is it worth it, Shua? To keep fighting? There’s always been misunderstandings between us, something always happens to break us apart. Maybe it’s a sign we just shouldn’t be together. Being with someone shouldn’t be this difficult. I know a good relationship means hard work but this is too much. I can’t keep fighting for someone who just runs away every time. Just avoids the issue and ignores me. No relationship can survive that”

“I’m a firm believer that nothing good comes easy. You have to put in the work. And I know he fucked up more than once and you’ve been the one carrying all of this but are you really going to let him go just because of this? A silly misunderstanding about him not getting you wanted a relationship? Think about it. He’s a literal man, Y/N. He needs things spelled out to him most times, specially when it comes to the person he loves most in the world. You’ve been through so much together that his mind just picks the negative and runs. It’s not your fault but if you think this relationship could be the real deal, try one more time. Tell him everything. Clearly, with no room for misunderstandings”

You nodded and he nodded back.

He got up to leave and as he was unlocking your office door and leaving he turned back.

“Just think about it, please, Y/N” he said and left.

When you got home that night, it was all you could think about. 

You wish you could ask someone. You had never told anyone about you and Jeonghan so you didn’t have anyone to talk to about this and share their opinion. You didn’t know if you should either. This is a decision you need to make by yourself. 

You spent the night thinking it over and you decided it was time to be brave and grow up. You wouldn’t do this through text or call. Tomorrow morning you were going straight to his office and you’re going to lay your cards on the table. You’re going to tell him what an asshole he is and that this is his last chance. If he wants it, he’ll have to put in the work from now on. No more running. No more ignoring you. Open communication or it’s not even worth starting anything back up between the two of you.

You couldn’t sleep very well. You woke up nervous and angry. You rushed to the office so you could be there early and talk to him before the day started. But of course, nothing ever goes to plan when it comes to Jeonghan, and your manager called you in to talk about the new accounts that were joining the company and what you and your team should expect from them. 

By the time you and your manager were done with that small meeting, everyone was already in the office and working hard. Shit. Should you do this now or later? Fuck it, you need this to be over with. You can’t suffer like this anymore.

You went to his office and of course, the first thing you are greeted with is Hana with her paws all over him, twirling his tie in her hand and laughing. He looked bored. He was leaning against his desk. He still let her do it though and you were beyond angry. 

You knocked on his open door and cleared your throat. 

He looked up and when he saw it was you, he gulped and tried moving away from Hana.

“Can’t you see we’re busy?” Hana asked you with disdain. 

You’re being tested. ‘Please, do not choose murder, please. Stay calm’ you told yourself as you walked in his office towards them.

“Hands off and fuck off, Hana. Don’t you have work to do? As far as I know this is a fucking office so act professional and not like a hormonal teenager or I’ll report you to your team lead and to HR” you told her and she gasped. 

Jeonghan just kept looking between the two of you and removed his tie from her hand.

“Jeonghan, say something!” she said as she turned to him and crossed her arms.

You looked at Jeonghan with a tilted head and raised your eyebrows.

“Get out, Hana. Go back to work. You shouldn’t have been here in the first place” he told her as he finally moved away from her completely and sat down on his desk chair.

She scoffed, flipped her hair, looked you up and down and finally left.

You closed his office door behind her and turned back to him.

“Am I just going to have to see that forever or do you plan on telling her to stop it anytime soon? I guess old habits die hard, huh?” you asked as you sat down in front of him.

“I’m sorry” was all he told you.

“Getting fucking sick of hearing that. I need to talk to you and you seem to ignore me through text and phone calls and even around here so you left me no choice. Do you have time now or do you want me to leave?” you asked and he stayed silent.

“Just know that if you tell me to leave, it will be the last fucking time I’ll give you the chance to push me away, so choose wisely” you continued and waited for his answer.

He continued to stay silent.

So be it.

You got up and started to leave his office.

“Stop, please. I’m sorry. Stay. Yes. Let’s talk” he said as he grabbed your hand and pulled you back, closer to him.

“I’m going to make this simple. Joshua talked to me yesterday. He told me you said I rejected you. You really need to start listening to what I say, Jeonghan. I didn’t reject you or your feelings. What I told you was that I did not want to go back to being fuck buddies. I wanted more for us. But you didn’t let me say that. You just got up and left with an assumption that I was rejecting you” you said and you could see the cogs starting to turn in his brain. He was realizing he had fucked up yet again.

“And because I was confused and didn’t understand why you left the way you did, I reached out to you. I wanted to talk it over before I left. I wanted to make everything clear between us and you ignored me again. I waited for you in my home and you didn’t even text back. That really fucking hurt” you continued and you started to cry now.

“You know that weekend I had already been given a choice to either stay there or come back here. After what happened with us, after you broke my heart again, I almost stayed there. But I chose to come back because I was always happier here. Whatever was going on with us, I couldn’t let that stop me so I came back. And you didn’t give a shit. You were the first to leave the meeting and you haven’t spoken a word to me in weeks”

You were getting angrier now. He needed to understand this was his absolute last chance and you were going to make sure you got through to him.

“When Shua talked to me yesterday, he said I should try one more time. Telling you everything clearly so that were no more misunderstandings. I didn’t want to. I can’t be the only one fighting and pushing through the misunderstandings. We can’t keep having these misunderstandings. I deserve better than getting hurt all the time because you won’t talk to me. You just run and ignore the issue and break both of our hearts. You need to choose, Jeonghan. Either you start taking responsibility and we start a mature relationship where we talk to each other about everything that is bothering us or maybe, if you don’t think it’s worth it or you’re not strong enough, we just end everything now. Completely. We’ll be nothing more than coworkers”

This was it. 

You were done.

He had all the information he needed to make his choice. 

No more ambiguity, no more uncertainty. He needed to choose to either fight for your relationship and stop being scared or let you go.

“You don’t have to answer me right now but--”

He stopped you from talking by kissing you. 

His hands were holding your face as he kissed you and you kissed him right back.

You missed him so much. He was such an asshole for torturing you both.

He backed you both up against the back wall of his office and he kept kissing you hard. 

You stayed like that for a while. Until your phone started to ring in your pocket.

It was Hoshi. He probably couldn’t find you and he needed you. 

“I need to go” you whispered against his lips and he kissed you again.

You started laughing.

“Seriously, I have to go. That’s a yes on the relationship then?” you asked, still holding him.

“Fuck yes, absolutely. I will never let you down again, that’s a fucking promise, angel”

“It better be. Let’s take it slow, yeah? I know that’s a bit of a cliché but I want us to start fresh. Going on dates, getting to know each other. Since we’re both hopeless romantics after all” you said and you both smiled.

“Anything you want, angel”

You left his office and met with Hoshi who was freaking out about something Seungkwan had said. These two will drive you insane but nothing matters right now. All you can think about is Jeonghan. You wondered how things were going to progress between you two from now on.

After a few weeks, you and Jeonghan were doing great. He started by leaving you coffee on your desk every morning with a note and he always checked on you during the day. You had lunch together every day (with your teams but still) and he took you out on dates almost every day. 

It may have been too much for some people but you wanted to spend as much time with him as possible and he felt the same. You had dinner together almost every day and you spent the weekends together. You had gone to amusement parks, gone on hikes, you had picnics by the river and so many other good things. 

You were slowly getting to know each other and your feelings for him were growing more and more every day. You hoped he felt the same way. 

You had been honest with each other about everything. You told him you needed him to put a stop to Hana following him around and being all over him. It made you uncomfortable and he agreed that was a door he needed to close permanently for both of you but also for Hana’s sake. So she could move on. He always talked to you every time he felt insecure or scared and you helped him through it. Your dynamic stayed the same. Always challenging each other and being snarky but you both loved it that way.

You had even met each others’ families already. It was funny watching your families react to you and him dating. You both talked so much shit about each other to your families that everyone was confused when you told them. His sister seemed to be the only one that knew this was exactly how you and him were going to end up.

There were a few things you haven’t done so far. You haven’t told anyone in the office, well except Shua and Seungcheol. And, you haven’t slept together yet. It just didn’t happen. You had been so focused on doing things right and getting to know him that that part hadn’t really been on your mind too much. You already knew that side of him and sure, you missed it but you didn’t want to rush anything. He seemed to feel the same way since he hadn’t made any moves towards that at all. You also haven’t told each other those three words. You wanted to. You knew you loved him. It was clear. It had been clear for a while but you were still scared about that. He hasn’t said them either which has surprised you so far but you understand. He’s probably just as scared as you are.

Next Friday was the regularly scheduled end of quarter party at your company. It was at the usual place, at the usual time and you wanted to be able to enjoy it with Jeonghan but the office still doesn’t know so you decided to ask him about it.

You went to his office during the day and brought it up.

“I was thinking… Maybe we can tell people… In the office… I wanted to go with you to the party and I can’t do that if we keep hiding this…”

“I would like that very much. I’ve wanted to do that since day one, angel”

You smiled and kissed him.

He pulled you closer to stand between his legs and you made a bolder move and straddled him on his desk chair while you kept kissing.

He pulled away from you and held your face with his hands. You moved to kiss him again and he laughed and stopped you.

“Hey… Look at me, angel…” 

You stared into his eyes deeply.

“I love you, Y/N” he said and he gulped. He was nervous. It was the cutest thing you’ve ever seen in your fucking life. You smiled hard.

“I love you too, Jeonghan”

He smiled just as hard as you and he started to kiss you again. Hard. One of his hands had now moved to your ass and he was pushing you on his cock. He was hard. You telling him you loved him back got him hard. That was fucking hot.

Your kiss started to get more and more heated but neither of you could stop. Not now knowing that you loved each other. Finally hearing it from each others lips was the last straw and you got reminded of how much you missed fucking him. You could feel how desperate he was for you too and you both just couldn’t stop what was happening, neither did you want to.

“Y/N, we need your approval on this. Can you--”

Hoshi and your team barged into Jeonghan’s office and you jumped away from Jeonghan so fast. But not fast enough. Jeonghan started laughing and moving his chair towards his desk to cover his very prominent boner.

You were all silent. Hoshi, Seokmin and Seungkwan looked horrified while Clara and Sunny were smirking behind them.

“Hey, what’s going on? Why is everyone just standing here?” Joshua asked as he walked by Jeonghan’s office and saw the crowd.

He looked into the office and immediately realized you two had been caught red-handed. 

“Oh… You should really lock your doors, guys” he said as he laughed and Jeonghan laughed with him. You affectionately slapped his shoulder for him to stop.

“I need to go wash my eyes” Hoshi said but didn’t move.

“I knew it! I mean I didn’t know it but very nice, Y/N. We have to talk” Clara added and Sunny laughed and nodded.

You rolled your eyes and smiled.

“This isn’t how I wanted you to find out. We were actually going to tell you about it today” you said.

“Before or after you defiled his office?” Seokmin asked you and everyone laughed.

“Definitely after” Jeonghan answered and you were ready to kick his ass.

“Come on, let’s get back to work. We can talk about it later” you said and started to leave. You gestured at your team to follow you.

“Oh we’re talking now, screw work” Sunny said and everyone agreed.

“This is why I didn’t tell you sooner” you added and they all laughed.

You told them the truth about everything with you and Jeonghan. Except what Clara and Sunny wanted to know. That, you didn’t say shit about. They were not happy about it. 

Nothing changed from then on out. Everyone knew but it didn’t change any dynamic. Just some added jokes about you two angry fucking each other after your usual disagreements at interdepartmental meetings. 

You also informed HR about your relationship and followed all the right steps. Soon enough, everyone at the office knew. Most people were surprised but nice about it. There were a few that were angry and doing their best to ruin your relationship either by creating rumors or trying to get in between you two. Hana and Jackson. Jackson was being an asshole but he wasn’t pushing anyones boundaries or creating issues. Hana on the other hand, was trying her best to ruin this for you two.

She started rumors about him still fucking her. She constantly tried to touch him and follow him around. It was frustrating but all you could do was report her to HR and move on. It had only been a few days but she was working hard trying to break you two up. It didn’t matter. You trusted Jeonghan and he always stopped her and her rumors whenever he heard them. You two agreed she would eventually stop. This was still fresh to everyone and she needed to get it out of her system. 

You and Jeonghan were really good now and nothing she could do would change that.

Friday came fast and you were excited. This quarter was a rollercoaster but you were happy to be back here at this branch with the people you loved, in your home that you loved so much as well.

Jeonghan joined you and Clara in the Uber and you met up with everyone there.

You sat at the same table you had last time, with the same people, but so much has changed. 

This time around, you were in love with the one you claimed to hate before. You were here with him and you were going to enjoy this completely. 

Everyone was drinking and having fun. Dinner and the awards started and it was just as fun as you remembered. You had gone to a few end of quarter parties at the other branch and you never had this much fun. This was the best. This was where you belonged. With these people. With this team. With him. You were so happy right now, words couldn’t begin to explain it.

The awards had just ended and they were getting ready for the DJ set to start and you decided to get a refill on your drink. 

When you came back to the table, Jeonghan wasn’t there. You checked your phone just in case and he had texted you.

“Join me. You know where”

You smiled and got up to go meet Jeonghan in the room you first started this whole thing in.

You walked in and locked the door behind you.

Jeonghan was sitting on the sofa by the window that you sat on last time. He was in the dark again, just like last time. 

You walked towards him and sat down on the opposite end of the sofa, looking out the window.

He looked at you and you smiled still staring at the window.

“Getting sentimental, baby?” you asked, still looking out the window.

“Hopeless romantic. Remember, angel?” he asked and you laughed.

You looked at him and you stayed there looking at each other silently for a while until he sat up.

“Come closer, angel. You’re too far away from me”

You moved closer to him. As close as you could. He pushed your hair behind your ear and kissed you. Softly. Like he was scared you were going to break. This felt different. He was trying to show you in actions how he felt about you. You kissed him back and held his free hand in yours.

He started to deepen the kiss and you let him. 

You moved to lay down and pulled him with you. 

He was on top of you kissing you and you locked your legs around his waist. 

You were already wet and he was hard. It had been too long since you had been together like this. You were being desperate for him and you knew he felt the same.

You reached down and started stroking his cock through his clothes and he whined.

“Don’t play with me, angel” he told you as he stopped kissing you.

You continued to stroke him through his clothes and he was panting and moaning into your mouth. You bit your lip. He was so sexy. You were losing your mind.

He pulled your hand away from his cock and pushed your dress up your body. 

Jeonghan took your panties off and put them in his jacket pocket. From his other jacked pocket, he took out a condom and threw his jacket on the floor. 

He moved down and kissed your thighs and your mound. Close to where you wanted him but not quite there. After a while of this, he started to leave bruises on your thighs. Fuck, you were wetter and wetter.

“I can see you clenching around nothing, angel. Are you that desperate for me?”

“Yes… Hannie, please… No more waiting…” you told him breathlessly.

“Fuck…”

He got up from the sofa and took his pants and underwear off. He moved back to the sofa and started fingering you slowly. He kept kissing your neck and all you did was moan and run your hands through his hair. He started scissoring his fingers inside you. He was impatient and you both knew it had been a while. He wanted to be inside you now and he needed to make sure he wasn’t going to hurt you.

“I love you” you moaned.

He stopped kissing your neck and kissed your lips deeply again. More forceful this time around.

He pulled away.

“I love you too, Y/N” 

He put the condom on and started to tease your hole with his cock.

You whined.

“I don’t want to hurt you, angel. It’s been a while. Let me know if it’s too much, yeah?”

“Just get inside me, please… You’re driving me crazy, Hannie”

“Will you be a good angel for me then?” 

“Always” you moaned and he pushed the head of his cock inside of you. 

He was going slow. Rubbing circles on your clit, kissing you and with every stroke he pushed more of his cock inside you.

You started getting louder as he got deeper inside you.

“Not gonna gag me this time?” you asked and he laughed.

He moved closer to your lips.

“Let them hear it” he whispered and you both laughed together.

You pulled him down for a kiss and he pushed his cock all the way in until he bottomed out. You were moaning together against each other's lips.

After a few seconds, he started his pace.

Short, deep strokes, hitting the right spot. He knew your body so well. He still remembered exactly what to do to drive you crazy. 

You were both loud. Moaning and panting. Not giving a shit about anyone outside of that room.

He grabbed one of your hands and interlaced it with his.

He kept fucking you hard and whispering how much he loved you. You whispered  and moaned it back to him.

You were both close and you knew it.

He increased the pace of his fingers on your clit and increased the pace of his strokes as well. 

You started squeezing his cock and you could feel yourself closer and closer.

Jeonghan squeezed your hand and moved to whisper in your ear.

He told you he loved you but when he said he would never let you go again, it pushed you over the edge and you came. Hard. It felt different this time. More tangible. Stronger. 

When you came down from your high, his strokes were slower and he was looking in your eyes. 

You pulled him in to lay on top of you and held him impossibly close.

Much like he did to you, you whispered in his ear and told him how much you loved him. That you wanted to be in his arms forever. And he emptied himself into the condom with a moan of your name.

This time around you laid there together. Just holding each other.

There was no rush. No weirdness. Just two people that loved each other and had finally found their way back to each other.

You didn’t know what was going to happen in the future. 

You knew it wasn’t going to be easy. Nothing ever is with Jeonghan. But it certainly is worth it.

As you lay there with him you start thinking about the day you left. 

About how you thought you were both just passing through each other's lives. 

 At that time it seemed that way.

He was just a boy creating chaos in your life for a while and you were just a girl that left and used your career as an excuse.

Now you know how wrong you were. How sad and miserable your life would have been without him in it. Without him with you. Just like this. Every day.

You know that from now on, you weren’t just another person passing through each other’s lives. You were everything in each other’s lives. You were both where you belonged.

With each other. Always together, and never to be apart again.

IT’S FINALLY HERE AND IT’S A MONSTER AGAIN Another rollercoaster of emotions 😭 I hope you love this as much as I loved writing it 💕 As usual, please let me know in the comments and such if you enjoyed reading it <3  Thank you for supporting me! Happy holidays! 🎆 CHEERS 🥂

Taglist (if you requested specifically): @woofie-nctzen-fanarts, @lovrchl, @lockburn-castle, @luchiet, @deeznutzaintnutting, @cheesytangerine, @avocifera, @odetoyeonjun, @listxn, @gyubbgist, @cvpidxo, @leicy0756, @sunflowergyeomie, @whore4stucky9104, @bangtanskz, @cecefarm, @staurdvst, @haahydvhkmhhn, @tsukkisdoll, @miniseokminnies, @namjinsworld

[dixons-sunshine]

Spot Of Tea | Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

*GIF isn't mine*

Summary: Marrying Daryl was one of the best decisions you ever made. He was no longer the hot-headed, rude hunter from the quarry who you couldn't stand. Instead, he was someone who you'd come to love above all else, someone who you bled with and shared a beautiful baby girl with. And just when you thought you couldn't love your husband more, he just had to go and have a cute little teaparty with your daughter.

Genre: Fluff

Era: Alexandria, post Saviour war, pre the building of the bridge.

Warnings: None.

Word count: 1.5k

A/n: Back at it again with another Dad!Daryl fic, and this one was inspired by @louifaith's amazing idea! This was so cute and I just had to write this. Domesticity with Daryl is my favourite genre. I hope you like this!

As always, my requests are open for any TWD requests, as well as Scud Frohmeyer requests.

—

The sun was just starting to set. Everyone was starting to retreat into their homes for the night and the people on guard were switching shifts with the people on night shift. You were done for the day, a successful day's work in the infirmary adding a bounce to your step as you walked up the porch stairs and into your shared home with Daryl, locking the door behind you and shedding your coat.

The house was eerily silent. Daryl had sustained an injury while on a run and had been given the week off by Rick to heal. Although your husband had initially been against the idea, one look from you had shut any protests down—being the community's nurse and his wife gave you that advantage. It was already day three and he'd been spending all of his time with Hazel, your daughter. Each night you'd come home to find him watching some old cartoons he'd found tapes of with her in the living room, all cuddled up under a big, fuzzy, comfortable blanket.

So where were they that night, and why was it so quiet?

“Daryl?” you called out after searching the first floor of your small home with no sign of the archer or your daughter. You started descending up the stairs, but stopped when you got to the top. You could hear your three year old's voice coming from her room, soon followed by Daryl's own.

You walked down the hallway and into her room, stopping in the doorway at the sight that you met; your daughter sitting down on the ground in front of her bed, surrounded by her stuffed toys with the plastic tea set Daryl had found for her in the middle, with the archer himself sitting on the opposite side of her. The big, gruff man was "drinking" from the plastic teacup, sporting a plastic tiara. Hazel was happily babbling on, and Daryl was looking at her fondly, a small smile on his face as he hummed in agreement to whatever she said.

You leaned against the doorway with an amused smile on your face, silently observing your husband dutifully playing out Hazel's storyline. They hadn't noticed your presence yet, and you jumped at the opportunity to admire the two most important people in your life.

“Do you want some more tea, Daddy?” Hazel asked, pouring the imaginary tea into the cups of the stuffed animals surrounding her.

Daryl nodded and extended the plastic cup in her direction. “Yeah, 'course I do. Ya make the best tea in the land.”

Hazel giggled and poured the imaginary tea into Daryl's cup. “There you go, Daddy.”

“Thanks, Princess Hazelnut,” Daryl thanked her, taking a sip from the plastic cup and humming in approval. “Tastes good. Wha'd ya put in this?”

“My secret recipe,” Hazel responded with a giggle, placing the plastic teapot down on the ground, picking up her own cup. “You look pretty, Daddy. Like a real princess.”

Daryl chuckled and patted at the tiara on his head. “S'the crown. S'makin' me look like royalty.”

“Yeah, the look suits you,” you voiced, finally making Hazel and Daryl aware of your presence.

Hazel dropped the plastic teacup in her hands and hastily got up, rushing over to you. “Mama!”

You crouched down to catch her in your arms, picking her up and placing sweet, soft little kisses on her face. “Hey, baby,” you greeted her, an affectionate smile on your face. “Were you and Daddy having fun?”

“'Course we were,” Daryl chipped in, slowly getting up from the floor due to the injury on his leg. He walked with a noticable limp over to you, ruffling Hazel's hair. “We always have fun. Ain't tha' righ', Hazelnut?”

Hazel giggled and buried her face into your shoulder. “Yeah. Daddy played princesses and tea parties with me.”

“Yeah. 'M Princess Dana of the Forest Kingdom. This lil' one is Princess Hazelnut of the Fairy Kingdom. We were jus' meetin' up to form an alliance to fight against the dangerous Fire Tribe, who wants to destroy the forest and all the animals in my kingdom. We need the help of Princess Hazelnut and the Fairy Warriors to defeat them once and fer all,” Daryl explained, using a deeper voice for dramatic effect.

“Well I'm sorry I interrupted your meeting. Do you want me to leave?” you asked teasingly, sending the archer a playful smile over your daughter's head.

Hazel shook her head. “No. Daddy and I will finish tomorrow.”

“Well, I've got the day off tomorrow. Would you mind if I joined you two?”

“Yay! Mama's gonna join us, Daddy!” Hazel exclaimed happily, hugging you tighter.

Daryl smiled fondly at Hazel, leaning forward to place a soft kiss on the top of her head. “Yeah, I heard tha', Hazelnut. Mama's gon' help us defeat the Fire Tribe. They will no longer hurt the animals in my kingdom.”

“Yeah! Mama's gonna help us win!”

You laughed lightly at their theatrics, shaking your head. You placed another kiss on Hazel's forehead before placing her back down on the ground. “Why don't you go wash your hands and wait for me and Daddy downstairs? If you promise to be good, there will be a surprise for you after dinner.”

“A surprise? Yay! Thank you, Mama!” Hazel exclaimed, hugging your legs tightly before bounding out of the room excitedly.

You chuckled affectionately at the little girl that brought so much light into your life. It amazed you how one small human being could fill a hole in your heart that you hadn't even realised existed before. Hazel was your pride and joy, your baby girl who you'd go to great lengths to protect, as would Daryl.

You turned back towards the archer and gave him an amused smile. “Hi.”

“Hey,” Daryl mused, stepping forward to place his hands on your hips, pulling you closer to him. “How was yer day?”

“Not as eventful as yours, I'm guessing,” you teased, laughing lightly. You gently took the tiara from his head, inspecting it. “Gotta say, though, the whole "Princess Dana" thing suits you. Never would've guessed it was you with this tiara on. You looked really pretty.”

“Stop,” Daryl said with a chuckle. “Hazel asked me to wear the tiara. It made the story more believable.”

“It sounds like a good storyline. I'm actually invested now, and I wonder how the two of you are gonna work me into the story.”

“Hazel will figure it out. She's a real creative kid. She has a big imagination,” Daryl replied, absentmindedly rubbing his thumb over your hip in a gentle caress. “She's amazin'.”

“Just like her daddy,” you responded, gazing up at your husband lovingly.

Daryl scoffed and ducked his head, but you didn't miss the way his lips twitched up into a small smile. “Nah, she got it from her mama. She's a mini ya.”

“I don't think so, but okay,” you relented, dropping the tiara on the bed before wrapping your arms around his neck. “She's perfect.”

Daryl hummed. “Jus' like her mama,” he whispered before capturing your lips with his, kissing you sweetly and lovingly.

The kiss ended all too soon for your liking, but you remembered that you had a toddler waiting for you downstairs. “We should probably get her fed and ready for bed.”

“Yeah,” Daryl agreed, taking a step back. “Wha' surprise do ya have fer Hazel?”

“Cookies.”

“Who made them?”

“Carol. She dropped them off earlier before she went back to the Kingdom,” you explained, before leaning up to whisper something in his ear. “If we get Hazel to bed early enough, I'll show you what surprise I have for you.”

Daryl Dixon loves his daughter. She is his little girl and he would do anything for her, including dressing up as a princess for tea parties. He enjoys her company and wished to be in it 24/7. He'd kill anything that tried to hurt her and he'd die protecting her.

But at that moment, Daryl wanted to get her to bed and asleep as quickly as humanly possible. As much as he loved her, he had another idea of fun that involved only you, the love of his life, a bed, and no tea sets.

[landossnorriss]

back to life | lando x older!she

Pairing: lando x older!she. Summary: with a new job on the line and a new adventure on her own for the very first time, she can't afford to risk putting a foot step wrong. it's a shame the younger f1 driver is used to living his life at 200 miles per hour and he's not afraid to pull her along for the ride. Word Count: 2.4ishk Warning: nothing yet... AN: this was going to be a one shot but i think we're looking more around 3-4 parts? i get word vomit and i simply can't stop myself. my intention with this script will be to keep her as non-descript as possible so that people can self insert at their own indulgence, the only thing is she's older than our fave number four. all the older!reader credit inspo goes to the lovely @coff33andb00ks <3

There was a high chance she was going to be sick. Why she had thought that she was ready to be in this position she didn’t know. The Mclaren account was not one that anyone wanted to mess with and at 29 she was officially the youngest person to manage it for Ashurst. Yep, she was going to throw up. When the promotion opportunity had come up she had thrown her hat in the ring for the experience, to test herself and see if she could make it through the interviews for such a role. She had prepped the best she could and told herself any feedback she got would just serve her for when she was well and truly ready to take on an account as large as this one. 

It was a good job she had been sitting down when the call had come through to join her boss in the office and celebrate the good news they had to offer her. The job would require a team she knew that, there was no way that she would be able to do it all on her own and the next stages would be deciding on any changes she needed to make and working on the team that would represent Ashurst for Mclaren but it was her name on the door, her choices that would make all the difference. Her say would always be the final one and she was ready to crumble at any given moment at the weight of it all on her shoulders. Impostor syndrome was being a real bitch right now. 

This morning she had been so sure that she could manage it, the meetings that she had held so far over Teams and Zoom had all gone swimmingly. Zak was charming and easy to work with, her team seemed to respect her despite the fact she was younger than at least half of them but all the confidence she had managed to muster that she could do this, seemed to leave her as she headed into the Mclaren center for the first time. She had been on a visit just once before, as nothing more than a fan before but now as she felt eyes on her the shirt she had made sure was pristine this morning suddenly didn’t feel smart enough, the click of her heels was too much and she was ready for throwing up all over again. 

Today likely hadn’t been the smartest day for her to be introduced to the key players in the game given how overwhelmed she had felt about the account already, but Zak had been insistent. Everyone would be on sight today and it would give her a chance to say hi before everyone vanished for the summer break she knew the team needed. Thank god as the team’s lawyer she wouldn’t be required to travel around with them all that often and most of her work could be done from home. She would miss her bed far too much to be away as often as the rest of the team were. Zak hadn’t been lying either, when he had said that everyone was here and she had given up trying to count the sea of people from where she was tucked into the center waiting for the stars of the show to arrive. 

She had never met either driver despite her time working with the team previously and she would keep her excitement over the matter buried deep. There would be no fawning and swooning, no acting star struck. She was a professional, a damn weapon in her field and she would be respected as a perfectly good lawyer, there was nothing and no one that would take her determination to smash everything about this promotion. 

Certainly not the green eyed driver currently climbing from his car as the rest of the team cheered for them. She had seen him plenty on the TV and always thought he was handsome, even if he was younger than her, but seeing him in person? Good god she needed to get it together. Day one, it was only day one in the damn office. There was no room to be mesmerized as Lando spoke to the crowds, taunted his team mate and generally seemed to be the center of attention in the room despite the fact there were two papaya boys in the room. This was his home, that much was obvious and these were his people. It filled her chest with an odd sense of pride that these were the groups of people she would be protecting and keeping in line, even from the background. 

For his part, Lando wasn’t doing much better at keeping his attention where it needed to be. He’d seen her as soon as he had stepped out of the car, eyes on the woman that stood just behind Zak. In her business-like attire she stood out like a sore thumb in the swarms of papaya and he didn’t mind it one bit. He’d never seen such a pretty face in this damn factory and before he could stop himself he let his eyes trail over her frame, she was older, not by much he assumed but just enough and were it not for the nudge in his side from Oscar he might have continued to stare at her. Who the hell was she? The question had continued to taunt him through the rest of the afternoon as he mingled, took so many photos and smiled so much his face hurt but his eyes had always managed to stray back to her. She had stuck by Zak’s side for most of the afternoon and he felt a flare of something unusual for him, even though it was obvious Zak was introducing her to people. 

“If you don’t stop staring at her, she’s going to get a restraining order against you before you’ve even met.” Oscar warned with another jab of his elbow into Landos side, the shorter driver whipping his head back to the younger with a scowl. 

“I’m not staring…just - who is she?” He found himself asking and he was unable to hide the tone his question held. 

“New team lawyer, or account manager I heard, she works for Ashurst but is our contact.” 

Lando frowned once more at the aussie before his green eyes inevitably found themselves looking for her again, desperate to trace over every curve hidden in that pencil skirt. How did Oscar always know everything first and more importantly how did he make that skirt a part of her everyday uniform? Despite everything that had gone on in the season so far, he had still been looking forward to the summer break celebrations and being back at the MTC. It always filled him with some sense of pride but any thoughts of team celebrations were now tucked firmly at the back of his mind because he wasn’t going to be able to concentrate if he didn’t find a way to be introduced to her soon. 

“What’s her – “

“Lando, Oscar, you got a second?” Zak called as he finally made his way to his driver pairing, a nervous lawyer in tow with him. 

Oscar could only roll his eyes at the expression that had formed on Lando’s face, that boy had never been able to hide anything a day in his life. Zak, squinting at his older driver, stopped allowing her past as they came to a stop in front of the boys. “Boys, this is our new lawyer from Ashurst, she comes with glowing recommendations and she is going to be around more and more so I expect you to be nice.” He offered with a beaming smile as Oscar stepped in first, given the frozen state of Lando, hand held out to the pretty lawyer. She was Lando’s type for sure. “Hi I’m Oscar, or Osc according to this guy, nice to meet you.” Turning his gaze between her and Lando he paused for just a second, the appreciation apparently mutual, before he gave a small cough as Zak was already busy calling someone else over. “And this here is Lando…he’s not a mute I swear.” 

She couldn’t help but smile at Oscar for just a moment, a flush on her cheeks as she noted the sarcasm in his tone before her soft gaze returned to Lando. First of all, where was his mother so she could thank her for his creation, and what the hell was he wearing because he smelt incredible. Holding out her hand to the older of the two men she waited for a moment before she felt his rougher hand slip into her own. “Right - I’m Lando, welcome aboard.” God could he sound any more awkward if he tried?

Luckily for both of them, Zak slapped a hand on Landos back, reinserting himself into the moment. “All introduced? I’ve invited our new lovely lawyer to the team dinner tonight when there are a few less of us so we can all get to know each other. How does that sound?” He beamed as he looked between everyone, a little slow on the uptake. 

“Yes, yes!” Lando beamed, god he knew he loved Zak for a reason. “I think that’s a great idea you should come with us!” 

“Oh I don’t want to intrude and I don’t, I don’t actually drive, where is the dinner tonight?” She flushed furiously at the idea she worked for a company like Mclaren now and still couldn’t drive. It simply wasn’t her fault that the clutch hated her. 

Lando, oblivious to the looks Oscar and now Zak were giving him, was already beaming with ideas forming in his head. Hot older woman, he could drive, a practical date. Win, win, win. Before Zak could even offer her a car Lando was already stepping closer to her. “I can pick you up, don't worry, it will do you good to arrive with a friend, arriving on your own might be a lot.” 

“Oh no Lando, you really don’t have to.” 

“Please.” The young driver scoffed with a wave of his hand. “Is that your phone, I’ll put my number in.” 

Feeling the blush she wore deepend she nodded, handing over her phone to the driver. He was being sweet, that was all she told herself because there was no way in hell it was anything more. He was, god he was gorgeous and she had seen the women he went for, younger, tiny, famous. She didn’t fit a single piece of his usual type, likely just an inch shorter than him in the heels she wore, her hips wider than most women cared for and five years older than him. 

“There you go, text me your address and I’ll pick you up at six thirty?” He offered, full charm in swing as he looked back at her. She was pretty from afar, but upclose? Lando just wanted to count each of her freckles and bumble over his words as he tried to flatter her. 

She needed a moment to compose herself and recenter, she had been flirted with before, she was pretty she knew that, but the men had never been, well fucking Lando Norris and big red flags that she was not allowed to flirt with in return. “Thank you, Mr Norris, I’m just going to go find the bathroom I’ll text you my address for later.” Maybe, she might still pull out if she could think of a good enough reason to do so. With the most awkward wave she could muster she found herself spinning on her heels, a string of curses sounding in her head as she tried to look calm whilst she was scurrying away to any form of locked bathroom door she could find for a very real mental breakdown. This was bad, this was very, very bad. 

Watching as she left Lando was pretty sure he let out an audible sigh. God what a fucking woman. Only the cough behind him brought him back to his current surroundings and he spun to face the questioning gaze of his boss and amusement of his teammate. “You’re not fucking the new lawyer.” Zak confronted boldly, that would be a can of worms he did not want to deal with. “End of, drive her to dinner, play nice, be ready to never be allowed to be alone with her ever again.” 

Lando wanted to protest straight away, that wasn’t fair, they couldn’t dangle something so sweet in front of him like that and then tell him that he wasn’t allowed to have it! Opening his mouth to protest Lando was met with a strong shake of his head as Zak took his leave, Oscar still fighting back laughter at the whole situation. “You’re so, so screwed mate. So screwed.”

[kaiser1ns]

#. DIOSA FROM ORQUÍDEAS ꕥ @17020'S EVENT !

featuring 𝘄𝗶𝗻𝗱𝗯𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗸𝗲𝗿 𝘅 𝗳𝗲𝗺!𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿 ıllı. umemiya hajime, togame jo, endo yamato

fluff. a celebration of self-love, empowerment, and confidence. he's always by your side, as if he's in a trance, spoiling you and always having you on his mind. he is more than willing to worship you like the goddess that you are.

i want to give my special thanks to the person to whom all this is due. amor, thank you for the wonderful opportunity, thank you for being such an amazing person, a real goddess! i hope you and everyone else, writing and reading, will enjoy the orquídeas shared with our favourites ♡

UMEMIYA HAJIME

The world could crumble, and the stars could fall from the sky, yet Umemiya Hajime would remain on his feet with a smile on his face and a bouquet in his hand. He'd walk through fire for you, dive into the deepest depths of the ocean, conquer every mountain, plant every seed, just to see his love grow and grow more for you. His eyes will never lose that warm flame, that spark, that burns only for you. You feel it in every glance, every whispered word and every touch. It's almost overwhelming, the intensity of his adoration, but you revel in it. You bask in the warmth of his affection, knowing that you are the center of his universe.

Hajime knows you better than you know yourself. He has memorized the way your eyes light up when you talk about your dreams and the subtle change in your voice when you speak of things that matter most to you. He knows what brings a smile to your face—a particular song, the scent of your favorite flowers, the quiet moments shared in the garden of Eden. He also understands what brings tears to your eyes, the memories that haunt you, and the fears that sometimes creep into your heart. But most importantly, he knows what makes you feel loved, cherished, and adored.

It might be daunting for some, the way he is always attuned to your every need, but for you, it's a comfort. You find joy in his attentiveness, in the way he anticipates your desires before you even voice them. His friends often tease him about how he spends all his time thinking of you, and how he seems to have little room for anything else in his life. But you find it amusing, a proof of the depth of his feelings. They don't understand the bond you share, the unspoken connection that ties your souls together.

You are used to getting what you want. The universe seems to have a way of bending to your will, of aligning itself with your desires. And in Umemiya Hajime, the universe has given you the greatest gift of all. He is the embodiment of love, the very essence of devotion. To you, he is more than a man; he is a force of nature, a manifestation of your deepest dreams and wishes.

Hajime treats you like a goddess, showering you with the kind of love that poets write about and artists strive to capture in their work. You see it in his eyes, a reverence that makes you feel like the most precious being in existence. He is your most fervent admirer. And you, in turn, are his goddess of love, the divine presence that completes him, inspires him and fuels his every action.

“You deserve the world, and I will spend my life giving it to you.”

You've faced heartache and pain in your life, moments that have left scars on your heart. But he has shown you what true love is. He has healed those wounds with his unwavering care, replacing sorrow with joy, and fear with security. With him, you feel safe, cherished, and above all, loved. His love is a salve, a gentle touch that soothes and mends, making you whole again.

Your belief in the law of attraction has never been stronger. You understand now that confidence and a strong sense of self can indeed bring about the desires of your heart. Hajime is living proof of this. With him, you feel empowered, as if the universe itself is conspiring to make your every dream come true.

Every moment with him is a treasure, a precious gem that you hold close to your heart. His love is a melody, a sweet, lingering tune that plays in the background of your life, making everything more beautiful, and more vibrant. You savor the way he looks at you, the way he holds you, the way he whispers your name with such tenderness. It's as if he has unlocked a part of you that you never knew existed, a part that is capable of experiencing the kind of love that transcends time and space.

As you rest your head against his chest, you think about how fortunate you are and how the universe, in its infinite wisdom, has brought you together, intertwining your fates in a dance of love and devotion. And as you gaze into Hajime's eyes, you know with absolute certainty that this is where you are meant to be — you have found your soulmate, your partner, your forever.

TOGAME JO

In his presence, you feel like you're dancing on clouds, weightless and free. The worries of the world dissolve as he takes your hand, pulling you closer. You gaze into his eyes, finding yourself reflected in their depths, and you know that he holds your heart in his hands.

Togame Jo’s love is like a long, beautiful dream, one that you never want to wake from. He tried to play it cool at first, but your presence ignites something within him. You’re so hot, so captivating, that he melts the moment he lays eyes on you. His smile, once reserved and composed, now breaks free with a joy that matches the intensity of his feelings.

You feel his heartbeat in the silence, a steady, rhythmic pulse that syncs with your own. The room fades away, leaving just the two of you in a moment of pure bliss. His wish was granted the moment he found you; the goddess he dreamt of is now in his arms, granting him the greatest gift of all – your love.

He whispers sweet nothings into your ear, his breath warm against your skin. You close your eyes, savoring the sensation, knowing that nothing can stop this. Nothing could keep you apart. He’s giving you his best, his all, and you accept it with open arms. The goddess within you recognizes his devotion, his unwavering commitment. It’s the least you can do to bless him with your fondness, to hold him close and never let go.

"Look into my heart, you’ll find only love there, love for you."

You know he speaks the truth. His love is evident in every gesture, every touch. There’s no need for him to prove himself, for the sincerity in his eyes says it all. The world seems to pause when he wraps his arms around you, holding you as if to shield you from anything that might come between you.

It wasn’t mere chance that you were brought together. The universe had a hand in it, orchestrating your meeting long before you were even aware. Destiny had plans for the two of you, plans that have unfolded beautifully, leading you to this moment. You, the lonely goddess, have found your true companion in Togame, a man who cherishes you beyond measure.

Heaven itself seems to be smiling down on you, as if acknowledging the perfection of your union. You fell from the stars, and he has caught you every single time, never letting you slip away. The temptation to love and be loved by him is irresistible, a sweet promise of happiness that neither of you can deny. You are captivated by the way he loves you, with a devotion that feels both ancient and new, as if you are discovering each other all over again with every shared moment.

In his heart, there is only purness and awe for the goddess who chose him, the one who made him feel and do things in ways he never thought possible. His entire world revolves around this precious connection, a love that feels as eternal as the stars. As he holds you close, he silently thanks the universe for granting him this unparalleled blessing, knowing that every moment with you is like falling in love all over again.

ENDO YAMATO

Endo Yamato’s eyes always seem to find you first. The moment you step into a room, it’s as if the rest of the world fades away, leaving only the two of you. His gaze is intense yet tender, a silent vow that he’s yours—body, mind, and soul. He doesn’t need to say it; it’s an unspoken truth that’s engraved into every touch, every look, every breath you share.

From the very first moment he met you, he knew his life had changed forever. Before you, everything was simple, predictable, almost painfully dull. He was a prodigy, praised and admired by everyone around him. He excelled in everything he did—whether it was academics or sports—leaving people in awe of his talents. But that admiration felt hollow, devoid of any true emotion. He lived his life on autopilot, going through the motions because that’s what was expected of him. He never understood what it meant to feel until you came into his life.

You were different. You didn’t look at him with the same awe-struck eyes that everyone else did. You saw him as an equal, a person with strengths and flaws, not just a prodigy on a pedestal. And when you smiled at him, it wasn’t because of his accomplishments, but because you saw something in him that no one else did. You saw the real Yamato, the one who had never truly been loved for who he was.

It was at that moment, when you reached out to him, that he realized what he had been missing all his life. Love. True, deep, consuming love. And now, he can’t imagine a life without you. He doesn’t want to. You are his muse, his guiding star, the one who painted his world with colors he never knew existed. 

“ I have fallen for you and I’ll never stop loving you. Not in this life, not in the next.”

Yamato is utterly devoted to you, in a way that transcends mere affection. It’s as if he’s in a trance, completely enchanted by you. He follows you with an almost reverent devotion, always by your side, always ready to do whatever it takes to make you happy. You’re his queen, his goddess, and he’s more than willing to worship you as such. Every glance from you is a command, every smile a reward he strives to earn over and over again.

He never hesitates to spoil you, to shower you with affection and gifts, to do whatever it takes to see that smile on your face. He lives for your happiness, and when you’re pleased, it feels like the world is exactly as it should be. They say you must have enchanted him, that there’s something otherworldly about the way he adores you. But you know the truth. It’s love, pure and simple, a love so deep that it has reshaped his very soul.

And in return, you adore him just as fiercely. You love the way he looks at you as if you’re the center of his universe. You love the way he always knows exactly what you need, what you want. You love how he’s always there, he is someone you can always rely on. With him, you feel cherished, and treasured, as if you are the most important person in the world. And in his eyes, you are.

You can see how he’s grown, how he’s learned to love, to care, to feel, all because of you. You’ve opened his heart, and now it beats only for you. He’s like a butterfly, drawn irresistibly to your sweet scent, caught in the web of your love, and he doesn’t want to escape. He’s fallen for you, completely and irrevocably, and he couldn’t be happier.

He believes he was born to worship you, to be by your side, to love you with everything he has. And you, in turn, have learned to accept his devotion, to revel in it, because you know it’s what you deserve. You are his queen, his goddess, and he will spend the rest of his life proving that he is worthy of you. You are his everything, and he is yours.

It’s not about ego, or power, or control. It’s about love, a love that is deep and true, a love that binds you together in a way that nothing else can. You feel him shudder slightly in your arms, as you pull back just enough to look into his eyes and see tears welling up, but then he relaxes, the tension easing as he lets himself be vulnerable with you. He cries, not out of sadness, but out of pure, unadulterated joy. Еach tear is real, showing how it flows into the deepest oceans of his devotedness, which overflows into the waters of true love.

©2024 kaiser1ns do not copy, repost or modify my work

[alchemistc]

Seeing all the saltommy headcanons floating around here and I'm obsessed with all of them but consider:

Unrequited saltommy but Sal's the one with feelings. Tommy considers him a good friend and a close confidant and Sal's the only one who Knows about Tommy, so they have their own shorthand and all their in-jokes and Sal plays up the bro thing because he realized five years in that he sort of maybe definitely wants Tommy to bone him and then press a kiss to his forehead and he needs Tommy to stick around for that so Gerrard can never know

Which. Tommy's never thought about it. Given the opportunity, maybe he would have. But Sal never says a word. Sal represses the feeling and dates around and through it all he's in love with his work buddy. They hang out when they're off shift and he listens to Tommy talk about the guys he's seeing casually and how they hate the job, hate that he's in the closet, hate that every time they're out in public he's tense and staring around the room like someone is about to pop out and call him every name in the book. He listens, and he knocks his knee against Tommy's, and they turn on the fights so Tommy has a distraction. And Sal loves him.

And it doesn't matter.

And then Gerrard is out, and they're finally in a place where Sal thinks - maybe. Maybe I could tell him. Maybe we could be something.

And Tommy comes over one night a few months into their revolving door of Captains and he's giddy, he can't stop smiling, he's nursing his beer and picking at the label and

He's met someone. They've been seeing each other and Tommy didn't want to say anything because it felt different than usual. Felt real. This guy understands the secrecy, he understands why Tommy has concerns about being out. He's sweet, and kind, and a bit of a freak in bed, sorry, you don't want to hear about that, and Sal absolutely doesn't but not for the reason Tommy thinks. It's serious. And Tommy had realized he wanted his best friend to know.

So. Sal tells him to bring the guy around, and he can never find a reason not to like him, because he's great. He's great for Tommy, he's fun to hang out with, he doesn't begrudge Tommy keeping the private part of their lives private. He can turn the lovey-dovey look off in a moment, play at being buddies when they're out and about and never seems upset about it. And in privacy, he's pressing a hand to the small of Tommy's back and pressing his lips to the bolt of Tommy's jaw and he always, always drinks Tommy's shitty beer even though Sal can tell he'd prefer a simple Bud Light. He makes Tommy happy.

So Sal lashes out at work instead. He presses, and he pushes, and he calls out captains left and right and does stupid shit for the hell of it. And eventually it bites him in the ass.

Sal loses his house, but for a while there he doesn't lose Tommy. He's there when the relationship with the guy implodes, and there's just never a good opportunity to bring up how he feels. So he doesn't.

They drift. Without the impetus of working together they inevitably just don't spend as much time together.

Sal meets a woman. He likes her. Her laugh is ridiculous. She smiles with her whole face. She's delicate and soft and when she tucks her face under his chin and curls her arms around him she can barely wrap her fingers together behind his back.

He introduces her to Tommy six months in and Tommy is happy for him, Tommy congratulates him, Tommy slaps a big hand to his shoulder and Sal soaks in the warmth and puts it away.

He marries the girl and Tommy orbits his life but they're never as close again. He has a couple kids, and they love uncle Tommy, and he watches Tommy move stations and stop hiding himself and he meets a few of the guys Tommy dates and they never feel right. They're never enough. They don't treat him the way Sal thinks he should be treated. He welcomes them into his home and hates the way they roll their eyes at Uncle Tommy stuffing his big long legs under the kids table so he can paint a butterfly with his daughter, the way they watch him with Sal's son balanced on his shoulders. He hates the way they get quiet when he and Sal are comparing scars and stories about the job. He hates the way they just don't love him enough.

They drift, and swing back together for random nights out or the kids birthdays, see each other less and less as the years pass.

And then he hears in passing that Tommy's reconnected with some of the 118, that he's spending time with all of them again, and he shoots him a text to catch up because you flew into a hurricane to rescue the guy who fired me but mostly he's just curious to know how he managed not to get fired.

Tommy invites him out for drinks. They settle in a corner booth and shoot the shit and Tommy tells him about how Hen is doing, how Howie is doing, about his new buddy Eddie and all the drama surrounding the 118. He keeps eyeing his phone, and Sal doesn't think much of it until Tommy's smile lines start to dimple and he tips his head up and grins, wide and happy as he waves at the guy who'd just stepped in.

Sal's pretty sure he recognizes him. One of the 118, maybe even the guy who'd filled the spot Sal had left open there. His grin is wide and his eyes are bright and Tommy shifts out of the booth to hug him and they linger in it, Tommy's face pressed into his neck and the guys hands drifting low across Tommy's waist, and when Tommy turns to introduce him as Buck the guys face scrunches up like that's a strange way to introduce him but he shakes Sal's hand and he slips right into the booth and he's rattling off a million questions like he's heard a hundred and two stories he wants Sal to confirm.

And Sal - he doesn't remember ever enjoying time with Tommy's boyfriends, doesn't remember seeing Tommy's gaze so focused and intent, so heavy. But this Buck guy keeps a hand on Tommy's knee, or his neck, not in a possessive way really, just like he can't quite stop reminding himself that Tommy is there with him, and Tommy is playing it cool but he's soaking it up, rolling his eyes at Buck's praise but ducking his head when Buck's not looking, darting gazes through his eyelashes and desperately fighting grins and giving the same energy back and no one, no one has ever treated Tommy so delicately, so carefully, no one has ever shot Tommy bedroom eyes with quite so much unadulterated adoration.

Buck goes to buy another round and Tommy's eyes flit to Sal's.

"He's a lot," Sal says, because he's not quite sure how to encapsulate "I know you guys said this was still fairly new but I'm already planning out the bachelor party where you get drunk and soppy and tell me you wish he was here with you."

"I should have mentioned he might come," Tommy tells him, and Sal narrows in on that.

"Why didn't you?"

Tommy shifts. His shoulders curl in. He chews on the inside of his cheek. "I figured some things out, after I started at Harbor. Took a long look at my life up to that point. The way you always hated every guy I introduced you to percolated long enough for me to understand it."

It's Sal's turn to feel like a jackass. "You thought I'd hate him too."

"I hoped you wouldn't."

Sal sighs. Catches sight of Buck tilting sideways at the bartop so he can send an eager grin in Tommy's direction. If he had a tail he'd be wagging it, Sal thinks, and then he thinks a little harder. About the easy way Tommy grins back, about the way he eyes Buck up and down, leering a little for his audience of one, and the way Buck bites his lip and his gaze goes dark and heady and the way he has to fucking blink himself out of it when the bartender hands him their drinks.

Sal knocks his knuckles on the table. "He fucks it up I'm reserving the right to show up unannounced at his job to make him fix it," Sal tells him, and Tommy's gaze is a little misty when it meets Sal's.

Buck slides in next to Tommy and passes out drinks and when he leans back and starts on a tirade about the travesty of shot pours he'd just witnessed, his hand lands a lot higher up Tommy's leg than it has all night. Tommy takes a heavy pull off his beer and grins at Buck like he's never been more enchanted by another living soul.

Sal's incensed when Tommy refuses to have a bachelor party unless both grooms are involved.

[euphorajeon]

the love upon your eyes | jjk

— pairing: jk x f. reader

— genre: fluff | college au

— word count: 0.9k

— warnings: soft jk, llike very soft, shirtless jk, that's it haha

— summary: when your mind is cloudy with sleep, jeongguk takes the opportunity to gaze at you, lovingly.

— author's note: broo did you all see how cool jeongguk was in golden live on stage... our best friend for real... also the gcf in budapest is really boxer!gguk coded hhh i got whiplash watching it. anyways. hope you enjoy this little bit of something from boxer!gguk !!! (ps. this is basically in the sheets but with the roles reversed :> )

masterlist | boxer!gguk masterlist

You’ve known Jeongguk for as long as you can remember. His annoying presence seemed to cement itself in your life, not allowing you to have a day without some memories of him. Jeongguk who always sang on the way home from school. Jeongguk who was there when you almost drowned when you were ten. Jeongguk who made fun of your hair in middle school. Jeongguk who had a colorful t-shirt phase in high school. Jeongguk who moved to another city for university.

It felt weird when he left, not having someone follow you around just to pester you, but eventually, it felt peaceful. You’re able to make new friends, study properly, and enjoy your time as a new university student. Jeongguk still texted you occasionally, giving you updates of his life and bantering with you whenever he wanted (when you protested, he said he’d only done that because he was bored. You’d given him the middle finger emoji which he laughed off.)

Jeongguk’s been annoying all of his life, so when he showed up at your doorstep two years after the last time you saw him, you expected nothing less. He truly didn’t change, still the same Jeongguk who brushed off your shocked concerns and responded with teasing remarks instead. So much teasing, so much tempting, until you lost it and kissed him right on his pierced lips.

All of that tells you that Jeongguk will always be annoying. Endearing, but annoying. Loving, but annoying.

So imagine how you feel when one morning, your whole world tilts on its axis when you open your eyes to Jeongguk gazing at you, lovingly. Most of his body is covered in his white blankets, only his shoulders and arms are visible, one of which is covering the bottom part of his face. You can only see his nose and eyes, again obstructed by the unruly strands of his hair, but those eyes tell everything. They tell you that Jeon Jeongguk is looking at you with all the love he has stored in his heart, without even a pinch of the annoying twinkle he usually has hidden somewhere in the flecks of his orbs.

Jeongguk lets out a chuckle through his nose when you groan.

“Good morning, sleepyhead,” he says, words muffled by his arm still covering his mouth. “Did you sleep well?”

Your barely-open eyes narrow into slits, blurring his form in your vision into a mush of white, black, and skin color. Despite that, you know the sound he just let out is another chuckle through the nose, now even more endeared. “Who are you, and what have you done to my Jeongguk?”

It sounds sassy in your head, your usual tone when talking to your boyfriend, but you don’t know that it only sounds like a jumbled mess in Jeongguk’s ears. Your whole body is still heavy with sleep, the tiny functioning part of your brain only recognizing the love in Jeongguk’s eyes that is so peculiar until your brain fails to aid to your ability to speak clearly. You don’t have to worry, though, because the tiny laugh that rumbles through Jeongguk’s chest tells you that he understood your words perfectly.

“Why so cranky, babe?” Jeongguk reaches out a tattooed hand to pinch lightly at your cheek. “Was last night not enough?”

You’re in the middle of turning around, intending to ignore Jeongguk’s soft stare and confront it later when you’re more awake, but his question makes you pause. Focusing your crusty eyes on him, you just realize that he’s not wearing any shirt, his arms and shoulders bare for you to see. Oh, he must have been looking at you with so much love pouring out of his eyes for you to miss the tattooed bulging biceps on display. This is bad.

Okay, back to his question. Last night, he said?

Your hands automatically pat down your body, which, thankfully, is covered by a t-shirt. You even still have your pajama shorts on. What does he mean by last night?

Apparently you voiced that aloud, with confusion written all over your sleepy face.

“Alright, alright, we didn’t go all the way last night,” Jeongguk laughs—he’s really cheerful considering the time of day, you notice—while coaxing the crease between your eyebrows away with his fingers. “Made out for a while on the bed, but you kinda slipped away from the kiss in the middle of it. I guess you were too tired, so I let you sleep instead.”

You didn’t remember anything from last night. Maybe he’s right, exhaustion took over your entire body that your brain just didn’t store any memories for a few hours. So, you ask the one sensible thing your brain could conjure up right now: “Did I leave you with a hard-on?”

Your eyes are nearly closed again, so you don’t see the amused expression Jeongguk has on his face. “If I tell you yes, would you apologize for it?”

“Mhm, sorry,” you mumble non-commitally.

There’s a few seconds pause. Then, “That’s it? No snarky remarks about how you don’t have to apologize for my bodily function?” Jeongguk asks, still amused by your lack of bite.

“Mhm,” you hum again. “Wanna go back to sleep…” You’re interrupted by a big yawn, “if argument, no sleep…”

Jeongguk has to bite his lip to prevent himself from breaking into a huge grin as he reaches for you, tugging your form closer to his so you can place your head on his chest. He envelops you in his arms, completely engulfing your frame with his big build. You drape your arm lazily on his waist, let him tangle his legs with yours. Jeongguk then drops a kiss on your head, one you barely register because your brain starts succumbing back to sleep.

“Sleep tight, sleepyhead,” he whispers before smiling to himself. 

“I’ll still love you even if you gave me blue balls in the middle of the night.”

a/n: thank you for reading! hope you enjoyed this little ball of fluff hehe. help me improve by giving me feedback in my askbox or here! :D

[mermazing-art]

The real name of the Furious Five 

After the Kung Fu Panda 4 movie I started thinking about what Zhen's first conversations with the Furious Five would be like. I imagined her nervous about making a good impression but fitting quite well with her group dynamic given her mischievous attitude and enjoying their adventures with her, establishing a relationship of trust. Which led me to a thought "Would she, wanting to know them more, ask them what their real names are?"

This theory has been circulating in the fandom for years since it is said that their names actually refer to their fighting styles or their species (as well as Master Ox, Crocodile or Rhino) since those who retain their own name within this discipline are those who have a superior role such as Oogway, Shifu or Po and those who do not have a title such as Zhen or Tai Lung.

Well, I decided to look for a suitable name for each one, one that fit their physique or personality, that was easy to remember and that would distinguish one another, let's go!

Mantis: Xun Yu ( fast jade )

With Mantis I was clear that I didn't want to look for anything that had to do with his size but I did want to highlight his most powerful abilities such as his speed.  That's where his first name, Xun, comes from.  His middle name, Yu (Jade), is because of his green color although this can also mean ''insect'' depending on the kanji with which it is written.  My idea is that Mantis calls himself ''the green lightning'' referring to his real name.

Crane: Zimo ( refined ink )

At first I wanted his name to be related to the sky or the air due to his avian species or his techniques, but it made me think that one of the things that catches my attention about this character is his interest in Chinese calligraphy.  Therefore, I decided to name him Zimo (ink or writing) to reflect his beloved hobby in his name.

Monkey: Wong Sang ( yellow mulberry )

For Monkey, I researched his voice actor, the one and only Jackie Chan, born Chan Kong-Sang. I wanted to take it as a reference by changing the name Kong since it is the name of the Monkey's brother to Wong (yellow), relating it to the color of his fur. I wanted to make a reference to his comic side but I couldn't find a suitable name for the guidelines I had assigned to it.

Viper: Jia Ling ( beautiful tinkle )

As with Monkey, I researched on her voice actress, Lucy Liu, whose full name is Lucy Alexis Liu Yu Ling. I wanted to reflect her charming and sweet personality, so I took the name Ling (tinkerbell) as a reference of the hiss' snake she produces, as well as her happy attitude.  But her first name would be Jia to emphasize the beauty of this character.

Tigress: Xia ( sunrise )

For her, I thought I would delve deeper into her story and her development as a character in order to give her the appropriate name.  This is her story:

When Tigress lived in the orphanage, she received the name Xian ("who lives in seclusion") from the other children perpetuating their contempt and fear of her. When Shifu finally decided to adopt her, after He heard that name many times, almost always accompanied by the word "monster", he asked her what new name she would like. She simply accepted Tigress because she didn't believe she could deserve a name. Shifu pondered and decided to call him Xia. Tigress at first didn't like this idea because it sounded similar to the previous one, but Shifu explained his choice to her. Both names, although similar, did not have the same meaning because now she would no longer be in the darkness, secluded and alone, but rather she had the opportunity for a new life, a path marked by the light that emanated from her, a new sunrise.

So yes, Zhen would ask the furious five their names, giving the situation that Po would find out right then and there about this. Everyone except Tigress would answer this question since for her it is still a very personal matter related to her past and Shifu and she still doesn't feel comfortable sharing it with everyone. Could Tigress talk to a certain panda about this?

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

The Dollhouse 1

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as fear, coercion, violence, noncon/dubcon, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk. 

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you. 

Summary: Five girls move into a shared residence for the upcoming school year but not all is as it seems. 

Characters: Jonathan Pine, Captain Syverson, Steve Abnesti, Lloyd Hansen, and Peter Parker 

This fic features five named readers; Ann, Lulu, Polly, Barbie, and Molly. This chapter features Ann and Lulu. Please note that characters may switch but will maintain second-person POV.

Note: I know I shouldn't but I say that every time.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. Thanks to everyone who reads this one and thank you for all your energy.<3 

Love you all until you can’t stand it. Take care. 💖 

Finally, you’re going to college but it can’t be a smooth transition. No, there’s always a hurdle in the road. You have your acceptance and your tuition scraped together, and there’s only one box left unticked; housing.  

It’s as if the ad was meant for you. ‘Book your room now. Single rooms available for campus students.’ 

Maybe people are right when they say your devices are listening to you. Still, you can’t exactly pass up the opportunity. All summer you searched yet just like the rest of your life, you’re running behind. 

The response is so quick, you almost can’t believe it’s real. It isn’t, not yet. It’s just an offer of a walk-through. You’ve done a dozen of those at least and each time, the room went to someone else. But you have to try. You can’t just give up, not after everything you’ve gone through to get here. 

Better late than never. That could be your motto. You should get it inscribed in Latin on something. Maybe a jacket? Are letterman’s out of style? 

You head out for the noon-hour meeting with the building manager. The posting said it was a new development. Hopefully, that means you don’t have to deal with anyone elses' leftover grime. Not that you’re picky. You’ve lived in worse. 

You let Marla know you’re heading out. Your mom’s friend will be even more ecstatic if you get this one. Neither of you expected you to be crashing for so long. It’s getting a bit crowded with her own kids still under the same roof. 

You catch the downtown route and get the connection just before it drives off. The building is slightly off-campus. You don’t mind. You're a bit too old to be kept awake by the frat house ragers. The reminder sparks another swell of insecurity. 

High school feels distant and you feel a bit pathetic running to catch up from behind. You’ll be older than most of the freshmen, even those who took a gap year. At least you’re doing it. Yeah, that’s something. An achievement is still that even if it’s not on the same schedule as everyone else. 

You miss your stop and curse yourself. It’s only a block away from where you need to be but you’re getting close to twelve as you spot the same building from the ad.

It’s a nice place. Modern and sleek. You wonder why anyone would convert it to student housing. Financially, it’s likely a windfall yet students do have a way of ruining a good thing. 

As you come up the walk, the curtain flutters in one of the windows. The boxy building isn’t quite as big as the on-campus dorms. That’s another relief. Not having to deal with the crush of students. 

The more you think about it, the more this seems like the perfect opportunity. You don’t want to get your hopes up. You know better. 

The door opens before you can reach it. You falter as a lithe man breezes through and grins in your direction. His blond hair pales in the sunlight and his blue eyes twinkle. He’s at least a decade, maybe two, older than you but he’s not aged poorly. 

“Ah, you must be Ann,” he extends his arm in a formal greeting, “Jonathan, we emailed.” 

“Oh, yes,” you shake his hand and show your teeth sheepishly. “Sorry if I’m late.” 

“Right on time,” he lets go and checks his watch. “I thought we could have our tour and then get to the usual questions. You understand, we have a strict screening process for residents. We can never be too careful.” 

He turns and strides back to the door and opens it, waiting for you as he steps to the side. You approach as he beckons within. 

“It is as much about out safety as those we choose to live here. We have seen the recent scandals at the college and what with the world the way it is. He tuts as you precede him through the door. His accent soothes your bubbling nerves. 

The entry way is tidy and neat. There’s a shelf of cubbies for shoes and a rack opposite with at least a dozen hooks for jackets and the like. You kick the dirt on your soles onto the mat. 

“You may leave your shoes on for the tour. We will have the house cleaned prior to move-in day. Of course, once you and your flat mates are in-house, it will be up to you to determine house rules.” He points you ahead. “Of course, if you choose to stay with us.” 

“Right, er, yeah, makes sense.” 

“Is this your first year?” He asks. His overly cordial manner helps ease you. 

“Mhmm, um, finally. I had to delay it a bit but happy to finally be going to school,” you explain. 

“Never too late to do something new,” he remarks. He gestures into the front room. 

“We’ve two common rooms, seeing as there will be six residents. We would like you to have all the amenities as a typical building. You see, this is a pilot program. We’ve a government grant for development of student housing.” 

You nod. You don’t really care about the money behind it but you appreciate his explanation. You’d rather know more than you need to. 

“A sitting area; television, sofas, perfect for a movie night, should you choose to spend a night in.” He lets you look around as he keeps to the wall and waits, “in the next,” he leads you on, “some games. Table tennis. A table should you wish to partake in any other sort of gaming.” 

The place is nice. Everything is brand new and shiny. There’s a shelf of board games by the sleek black table with chairs. The ping pong table has four paddles and there’s a basket of balls on a wall shelf. It’s all arranged so perfectly. 

You carry on into the kitchen. It’s huge. You marvel at the pale blue and black aesthetic, accented in silver and crystal. It’s immaculate. A bit much for college kids. 

“Uh,” you turn to him and twiddle your fingers, “did I read the rent correctly? I don’t know if I can afford this.” 

“Yes, two-hundred plus utilities. As I’ve said, we get a supplement from the government for housing students.” 

“Oh, sure, makes sense,” you sway and look around again. 

“There are a few things to go over, do let me know if you have any questions as we go,” he stands back as you tentatively explore without touching anything. “We’ve continuous security in place. You may see any of our staff on the grounds throughout your day. You will of course be acquainted on move-in. And we have on-site maintenance.” 

You nod as you listen and he takes you back around to the entryway and shows you the bedrooms on the other side of the house, only two down there, four upstairs according to him. He allows you even to peek into the bathroom behind the staircase. 

“Now, before I go through the typical questions, there is one condition I might confirm before wasting your time,” he says. “It was in the application but I do like to double-check these things. You are comfortable with co-ed residence? A mix of boys, girls, and all?” 

“Yeah, sure,” you smile.  

It’s not ideal. You’ve never really lived with men but you can make it work. 

“Splendid, well, how about we go and see the verandah? It is a sunny day and I hate to miss the sunlight, especially as autumn approaches so quickly.” 

“Oh, okay,” you agree and reroute as he directs you with an open hand. “This place is really nice.” 

“Thank you. I’ve overseen the design myself so I will happily accept that praise,” he chuckles as he trails after you. “Oh, you’ve not even seen the garden.” 

As if the flight wasn’t enough, you’re met with an endless wait in line to have your visa and documents checked before you can leave the airport. Even after all that, you’re far from settled. 

You pull out your notebook as the signs bring you down to the underground station. It’s neat that there’s a whole set of tracks right underneath the airport. Everything about this new place is so astounding but scary... 

You check your scribbles and stop at the wall map to confirm the information. Your platform is a little further down. You better hurry! 

You drag your bag behind you as you scurry down the scuzzy concrete, your carry-on bouncing on your shoulder. It won’t be long, you just need to get to the town centre and go from there. You can’t wait to see your room.  

You hope the real thing lives up to the pictures. The man on the video chat seemed honest. He was friendly. Jonathan... or maybe Jaime. Oh! You shouldn’t forget. 

You're out of breath as you reach the train door. It's like it's waiting for you as once you board, the compartment door shuts. You find a seat and keep your suitcase stuffed in front of you. It's already cramped without the luggage.  

You keep an eye on the digital banner near the exit. You won't miss your stop. When it comes, you're the first up and waiting to get off. 

Outside, you're swept up in vertigo. The distance between you and home finally catches up to you. You're really there. All on your own. 

You're shaky as you take out your notebook and your phone. You just need to go around the corner... every twist and turn is written down. From the airport to the station to your residence. 

Your bag rolls and rattles as you go down the next street. You recognise the house from the pictures. The lawns are vibrant and green and the front gate adds a homey touch. 

You stop just outside and scroll through your emails. Jonathan said to call when you got there as he'd have the key for you. You find his number and tap it, your phone popping open the call screen. You wait, there's no answer. Hmmm. 

The sudden roar of a motor and blast of air startles you. You look over the hedges at the man with a leaf blower. He clears the trimmings of the finely-groomed bushes. As you glance over, he spots you and shuts off the gadget. 

You smile, tight-lipped and teetering, as he approaches. It's not Jonathan. This man is much the opposite, burly, bald, and bearded. 

"Can I help ya?" He asks in a drawl. 

"Oh, sorry," you giggle nervously "I must look like a mouse in a swimming pool. I'm looking for Jonathan Pine." 

He tilts his head slightly, a squint as he seems to chew on his thoughts. 

"He's 'round. I can get him for ya. Can I get who's askin'?" 

"Oh, Lulu. I'm supposed to be moving in, sir," you push your shoulders up as another uneasy trill crawls from your throat. 

"Ah, you best come on in," he goes to the gate and unlatches it, "here." As you near, he reaches out and grabs the handle of your rolling bag, "you come far?" 

You let him drag the overpacked suitcase. Your shoulders are killing you. You follow him down the paved walk. 

"Yes, I flew in. From overseas," you answer. 

"Shoulda known. You sound like him." 

You laugh again. Your accent is not as refined as Jonathan's but certainly is nothing close to the local one either. 

"Name's Sy, I fix this place up and all. Do the garden, unclog the sink," you stops at the door and sets your bag to stand on it's own. "I'll get Jon for ya." 

You nod and he disappears through the front door. You sway as you peer around. The place is amazing. The facade is just as gleaming as the advert and the gardens are lovely. You've always liked oak trees and you're sure the leaves will be a beautiful shade of copper once the seasons change. 

The door opens again and startles you back to the present. You look up as Sy dips his chin in your direction and keeps the door open. A familiar face emerges and a tiny bit of pressure lifts off your chest. You're definitely in the right place.  

"A pleasure to finally meet in person," Jonathan offers his hand. You shake it and a giggle crackles in your throat, the habit harder to suppress as your stress mounts. "I am glad that you made it and I trust you had a safe journey?" 

"Oh, yes, sir, yes," you answer, "thanks." 

"Sy," he glances at the other man who promptly retreats. 

"Well then, please, let us get you set. You are the first to arrive. Of course, there is no trouble accommodating you early given the circumstances. Such a far way to travel. You must be terribly tired." 

"Oh, a little, but excited too." You go to grab your suitcase but he's much quicker.  

He directs you in first and follows as he rolls your bag with him. 

"I've put you upstairs but if the first floor is preferable, we can rearrange," he explains. 

"Upstairs is fine!" You squeak in a tone higher than your usual tenor. 

"Ah, I recall my first time abroad myself, it was surely nerve-racking. Don't be shy, eh, it does help to have someone who understands the plight, hm?" 

"Thank you, sir. Yes, it's... it's all so new." 

"Mm, you needn't call me sir, Jonathan is fine enough," he insists as you begin up the stairs. "Perhaps you won't feel so out of place once the others come." 

[chelseachilly]

tired of loving from afar

pairing: mason mount x reader warnings: none, mostly fluff with a tiny bit of angst! word count: 5.3k

a/n: not me writing for someone other than ben lmao?? been really in my mase feels lately so here's a fluffy little long distance relationship fic (also was very happy to read this morning that he's likely going to be back after the international break! my heart has been hurting for him this season 🥺) have a great weekend loves 💓

-

Of the three years you’ve been with Mason, the past six months have been the hardest by far. 

You’d overcome other hurdles in your relationship, like adjusting to the exposure and demanding schedule of a professional footballer, learning to cope with your life being somewhat public and thousands of girls being in love with your boyfriend. None of this was nearly as challenging as having to adjust to him living 200 miles away from you. 

His move to Manchester was bittersweet - you were so proud of him for getting a spot at such a massive club and finally receiving the appreciation and recognition he deserves. You knew he was happy to have a fresh start and a chance to prove himself as a player. 

At the same time, it was incredibly emotional for him to leave his boyhood club, his friends, his family, and you all at the same time. You would’ve given anything to go with him, even if it meant leaving your own friends and family in London, but you were about to start your final year of uni there. You couldn’t just pack up and go, no matter how much you wanted to do so.

You’re passionate about your studies, and you knew it would all be worth it when you graduate and get a job in your chosen field - and in the same city as the man you love. You knew it was only a year.

That didn’t make it any easier to say goodbye.

You’ve both made a massive effort to see each other as much as humanly possible, going up to Manchester every time you have a break from classes or a weekend without an exam or assignment due. Mason has also come back to London any time he gets the chance, sometimes flying out just to see you for the day. You’ve been making it work, but it’s not nearly the same as living in the same house as him. Even when you were both super busy, you at least got to see each other when you woke up and before bed, and now all you have are texts and FaceTime calls. 

On a night like tonight, when you’re exhausted from the week and you just want to be wrapped in his arms watching a film, FaceTime really feels like a poor replacement for the real thing. 

“Hi, gorgeous,” Mason says, a sleepy smile on his face as he answers your call. “How was your day?”

“Hey, Mase,” you say, curling up with a blanket and admiring his face in the soft glow of his bedroom lamp. Judging by the fact that he’s in bed by quarter to nine, you figure he’s as worn out as you are. “It was okay, felt long. I finally turned in my essay, though.”

“Good work, babe, I’m sure you aced it like always.” 

You blush a little, never growing tired of how he takes every opportunity to praise your intelligence. Any time someone asks about your studies, he does a full spiel about how smart you are.

“We’ll see,” you say. “How was your day, love? Any updates at physio?”

The way his smile instantly fades makes your heart drop to your stomach, fearing the worst.

“Yeah, um-it’s looking like a bit longer,” Mason says, and you can tell he’s trying to keep his voice steady so you don’t worry too much. “Maybe another few weeks. They’re not sure.”

“Oh, sweetheart,” you sigh. “I’m sorry. I know how frustrating this is.”

The hardest part about being away from Mason has unquestionably been watching him struggle from afar without being able to properly support him. From the rocky start to the season, to being out due to injuries basically ever since, it’s been torture not being there for him. 

You went up straight away when he first injured his calf in November, needing to both emotionally and physically care for him, but you couldn’t stay long before your exams started. Since then, you’ve done your best to help from London - sending him care packages, calling him as much as your schedule allows, asking Luke and Anouska to keep an eye on him and let you know how he’s holding up. 

In moments like these, though, what you really need is to hug him and tell him everything is going to be alright. 

“Yeah, it’s a bit tough,” Mason admits, fiddling with his hoodie string. “But at least I’m back in partial training, it could be worse. I could’ve done my ACL or something, you know? I’ve been pretty lucky in my career so far.”

One of the many things you love about him is his infectious optimism, how he always sees the best in situations and in people. 

Right now, though, you’re not sure you fully believe the words leaving his mouth. He looks so disheartened and downtrodden. 

“Are you sure you’re okay?” you ask, frowning. “I know it’s not the news you’re expecting, you’re allowed to be disappointed.”

“I’ll be fine, angel, don’t worry about me,” Mason reassures you. “Just missing you a little extra today.” 

“Me too,” you murmur, touching the screen and wishing it were his face. “I’m sorry I can’t make it up this weekend, but this group assignment-“

“Don’t apologize, baby, I know how busy you are this term,” Mason cuts you off, just as he always does when you try to apologize for being so far away. 

You do the same to him when he tries to say he’s sorry for uprooting your life together, for not being there when you’re stressed about school or just having a bad day. Truthfully, neither of you are at fault, it’s just life. But it still sucks sometimes. 

“We’ll see each other in a few weeks when I have my reading break,” you remind him. “Just a while longer.”

“I know, I’m counting down the minutes,” Mason smiles. 

You talk for a little while longer before you reluctantly have to go so you can get ready for bed, and you promise to call him again tomorrow night. 

The sad look on his face when you say goodnight lingers in your mind as you shower and do your skincare routine, and by the time you climb into bed, you’ve made a decision.

First, you message your group for the assignment you’re working on and ask if you can push your planned meeting to Monday rather than Saturday. Next, you text Luke and ask him to make sure Mason doesn’t have plans tomorrow night.

Lastly, you book a train to Manchester, because you’ll be damned if you don’t go cheer up your man when he needs you.

-

The moment you arrive at the train station in Manchester the next day, you hop in an Uber and make your way straight to Mason’s.

You know that he’s still at training and will be for at least another hour or so, as you’ve been texting Luke for updates so Mason doesn’t get suspicious. It’s not unusual for you to ask how his day is going, but you don’t typically ask for the exact time he plans on leaving Carrington or instruct him to go straight home after training.

Using the key that Mason gave you when he moved in, insisting that it was still your home even if you don’t live there the majority of the time, you let yourself into his house.

You drop your bags and immediately get to work on creating the perfect cozy, romantic Friday night in.

By the time you get the text from Luke that he’s on his way back with Mason, having devised a fake plan of coming over to play FIFA after training to ensure Mason didn’t make other plans, you’re just finishing up.

You’ve successfully transformed his house, which he bought furnished and has put very little effort into making homey, into a much more welcoming environment. 

You ordered flowers for the kitchen table, as well as enough groceries to make dinner for him tonight and to replenish his far too empty fridge. You did a bit of tidying, deciding to do a few loads of laundry for him when you noticed there was quite a pile forming, and it must have been a week or so since the cleaning service he pays for came. 

You put some soft music on his speakers and lit a few candles in the kitchen as well, popping a bottle of white wine into the fridge so it’s ready for your dinner. 

You’ve just started chopping a few veggies to get a head start on dinner when you hear the sound of the front door opening followed by distant voices, one of which you immediately recognize as Mason.

“Do you hear that music?” 

The sound of your boyfriend’s voice after weeks apart fills your stomach with butterflies - you’re just as giddy to see him as you were in your early days of dating. 

“Probably the neighbours, mate,” Luke responds, still playing along with your ruse. 

“I don’t think-“

Finally, the guys turn the corner into the kitchen, and you see Mason come into view with Luke trailing behind him. His eyes widen in surprise for a moment, slightly startled by there being someone in his house, and then he realizes it’s you and his mouth falls open in shock.

“Surprise,” you say shyly, while Mason is still at a loss for words. 

He immediately drops his training bag to the floor and makes a beeline for you, pulling you into a tight hug and lifting you off your feet before you can even hug him back properly. 

You relax into his arms right away, squeezing him just as tightly as he’s squeezing you and breathing in the familiar scent of his soap and aftershave, freshly showered after training. It’s the same scent that lingers on the t-shirts and hoodies that you steal from him every time you come up, wearing them until you regrettably have to put them through the wash. 

“Baby,” Mason mumbles into your neck, pressing little kisses there. “I can’t believe you’re here.”

“I’m here,” you confirm, wrapping your legs around his waist as he refuses to set you down or let you go. “I missed you way too much to wait another three weeks.”

He pulls back far enough to capture your lips in a sweet kiss, his hands sliding down to your thighs to support your weight as you kiss him back. You can feel the pieces of your world shifting back into place, your heart settling in your chest as you sink into his warmth.

Mason presses a few more quick pecks to your lips before reluctantly setting you down, arms still wrapped around you. It’s only then that you realize Luke is still here, shuffling awkwardly in the corner. 

“Thanks for your help, Luke,” you say with a shy smile, moving to Mason’s side. 

“Of course, the man never shuts up about how much he misses you, so it’s really a favour for me as well,” Luke jokes. “I’ll leave you guys. Enjoy your evening.”

“Thanks, mate,” Mason says with an eye roll and a grin before turning his attention back to you, pressing kisses to your head. 

“Night, Luke! Give my love to Anouska and the kids,” you call out, though you’ve also turned back to face Mason and bury your face in his chest. 

You remain in each other’s arms, just holding one another and breathing in and out for a minute or two. 

You knew you missed him, but you don’t think you realized quite how much until right now. It’s taken such a toll on both of you being apart for so long.

“How long are you staying?” Mason asks quietly, almost like he’s afraid of the answer, as he lightly rubs your lower back. 

“Until Monday morning,” you say. You wish it were longer, but three nights together is the best you’ve gotten in a long time. 

“Really?” Mason asks, pulling back and looking at you with bright eyes. “I thought you had to do your group assignment tomorrow?” 

“I pushed it to Monday, I had to come see you after we spoke last night.”

You reach up to cup Mason’s face with one hand, gently stroking his cheek with your thumb. Judging by the way he’s avoiding eye contact with you, you know you were right to come. He’s obviously been struggling with the disappointment of the never-ending injuries, all the uncertainty it’s brought. 

“I’m okay,” he says softly, turning his face to press a kiss to your palm. “Now that you’re here, everything’s okay.”

You melt at his gentle words, but they don’t do much to ease your worries about his emotional wellbeing. 

Mason gives you a quick peck on the forehead before looking around the room, noticing the food you’re preparing and the cozy, romantic vibe you created for your evening. 

“What’s all this?” he asks, a small smile on his face. 

You’re not keen to drop the subject, but you don’t want to ruin your rare weekend together by bombarding him with questions either. You know he’ll talk about it when he’s ready. 

“I just ordered some food for dinner and restocked your fridge a bit,” you explain. “I figured you would be happy to stay in tonight, so I got stuff to make your favourite pasta.”

Before he can respond, the dryer beeps, signalling that the load is done. He raises an eyebrow at you.

“Are you doing laundry?”

“I just threw a couple loads of your clothes in, I noticed you were running behind,” you shrug. 

Mason looks at you with complete awe, shaking his head in disbelief.

“You didn’t have to do all this,” he says softly. “You being here is enough. It’s more than enough.”

You smile, wrapping your arms around his neck once more. 

“I know, but I wanted tonight to be perfect and relaxing,” you explain, pecking his lips. “No stressing about football or school or anything else. Just you and me.”

“You’re amazing, Y/N,” Mason sighs, squeezing your waist. “Can I help you cook?”

“No, but you can pour us both a glass of wine from the bottle in the fridge and sit down and tell me about your day,” you smile, kissing him one more time before pulling away to return to your meal preparations. 

Mason does as told, sneaking another few kisses when he brings you over your glass, then sitting at one of the stools at the kitchen island.

You treasure this domesticity more than almost anything with him - the simple act of chatting about your days while making dinner is something you’ve missed terribly.

When the pasta is ready, you dish it out into two bowls and bring them over to the table. 

“God, I missed your cooking,” Mason grins as he dives into his portion, obviously starving after a day of training. “It’s delicious, babe.”

“Thanks, Mase,” you reply, pouring yourself a little bit more wine. “You want some more?”

“Might as well, it’s not like I’m playing tomorrow,” Mason says, the offhand comment hurting your heart much more than he intended. 

He’s still smiling at you as you pour his drink, but you don’t believe for a second that it’s real. 

“Do you want to go tomorrow?” you ask after a minute of silence while you both eat. “I know you usually go to the home games, right?”

Mason shrugs. “Yeah, we can if you want.”

Once again, you don’t press him further, listening as he changes the subject and starts updating you on Ben’s latest girl troubles. 

After you’ve finished and cleaned up, you head into the living room to catch up on the new episodes of Drive to Survive. You always save your favourite shows for when you’re together, sometimes dodging spoilers for weeks just so you can enjoy it properly with Mason.

The moment you sit down on the couch, Mason pulls you into his arms for the first real cuddle you’ve had in weeks. You very contently lean into him, resting your head on his chest and humming in delight as Mason slides his hand under your hoodie and begins to gently stroke your lower back. It’s not with the intention of anything sexual, though you’re sure that will come later, it’s just an innate need to be as close to you as possible. 

It’s the most relaxed you’ve felt since he left your flat in London three weeks ago, your body and mind decompressing with every moment spent in his arms. 

A few hours pass, and you can feel yourself growing tired, but you’re enjoying Mason’s commentary on the Alpine rivalry far too much to interrupt and suggest you go to bed. Your yawns are betraying you, though, and Mason begins to gently run his hand through your hair.

“You ready for bed, sweetheart?” he asks softly, kissing your forehead. 

“It’s so early,” you murmur as you glance at the time on your phone, barely past 9PM, yet you can’t contain another small yawn which makes Mason chuckle. “Sorry, I guess I’m tired out from the week.”

“No worries, we have the whole weekend,” Mason smiles. “Honestly, I’m a bit worn out too. Wanna go upstairs and I’ll get us some water?”

You nod as he stands and helps you to your feet, pressing one more gentle kiss to your forehead before heading into the kitchen. You make your way up the stairs to his bedroom and head into his ensuite bathroom. 

It occurs to you as you’re flicking the light on that you forgot to grab your toiletry bag from your suitcase in his room, and you’re just about to turn back for it when something catches your eye. On one of the shelves above the toilet, there’s an array of products that wasn’t here last time you visited. More specifically, there’s a version of just about every hair and skincare product you use on a regular basis, and you really doubt that Mason has taken up doing hair treatments or using Drunk Elephant serums.

Maybe it shouldn’t mean as much to you as it does - he’s always been thoughtful, and you know the expense of buying all this is nothing to him - but for some reason, the simple gesture nearly brings you to tears. 

Mason appears in the doorway a moment later, smiling softly at you.

“You okay, love?” 

“When did you buy all this stuff?” you ask, gesturing to the shelf. 

“Oh, uh, a couple days after the last time I came to London,” Mason says casually. “I took pictures of everything in your bathroom to make sure I got the right stuff, I just wanted to make it easier for you when you visit.”

As you look into his soft, sincere gaze, your love for him feels more overwhelming than ever. 

Which means your guilt does, too. 

“Mase, I’m so sorry I haven’t been up to visit more lately,” you say, your voice unsteady. “I know you’ve been struggling, and I know you’ve been keeping a lot of it from me because I’m busy with uni, but you’re my priority and I should’ve-“

“Hey,” Mason says gently, interrupting you with a hand reaching up to cup your cheek. “Don’t ever apologize for focusing on your studies. I know how hard you’ve been working, and I’m so proud of you. You don’t need to worry about me, I’m gonna be fine.”

“It’s not fine,” you shake your head, tears now streaming down your face. “You’ve always been there for me, and now you’re in a new city and a new club and you’ve been dealing with injuries and I’m all the way across the country.”

“Y/N, we knew this would be hard, and I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t,” Mason says, wiping your tears away with his thumbs. “But it’s not your fault I moved clubs while you still had a degree to finish, or that I’ve had a tough season. Some things are out of our control.”

You know he’s right, but it doesn’t make it any easier. Hearing his sad, defeated voice on the phone after a disappointing medical assessment or bad game and not being able to hold him has been one of the hardest things you’ve ever done.

“I just worry about you being here all alone,” you say quietly. “I know you have your teammates and you spend a lot of time with Luke, but in London you had me and all your friends and your family was closer and - I just hate that I’m not with you.”

“You’re here right now,” Mason says, pressing his forehead to yours for a moment. “You dropped everything to come see me today, babe. You have no idea how much that meant.”

“I would do it every weekend if I could.”

“I know,” he says with a sad smile. “And I would leave all of this and spend my time helping you study and supporting you if I could, but this is our reality for a little while longer, angel.”

You sigh, nodding in agreement and staring into his big brown eyes that bring you so much comfort. 

“I’ve just missed you so much,” you murmur, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him in for a tight hug. 

His own arms circle your waist and tug you impossibly closer, his nose buried in your hair so he can breathe you in.

“I know, baby, I’ve missed you too,” he exhales. “So, so much.”

You hold him for a while longer, cherishing every brush of his hand against your back and every kiss he presses to your temple. You want to memorize the feeling of his touch, so when you’re back in your bed in London a few days from now you can close your eyes and try to imagine you’re still in his arms.

After a few minutes, you break apart to finish preparing for bed. You brush your teeth together then go through your skincare routine while Mason watches fondly, letting you put some moisturizer on him when you’re done with it. Then he strips down to just his boxers, teasing you lovingly when you obviously check him out, and passes you a comfy t-shirt from his drawer to change into. You make a mental note to fill up your suitcase with a few of his hoodies before you leave - the ones you have at home no longer smell like him. 

You climb into the bed together, noticing that the side you usually sleep on has all of its pillows in place and that the nightstand is almost empty except for the glass of water he set down for you. Like he’s still been leaving that space for you even when you’re not there to fill it. 

“C’mere,” Mason says immediately, tugging you into his chest. 

You relax against him, laying your head over his heartbeat and tracing his tattoos with your finger.

“Will you tell me how you’ve really been feeling lately?” you ask in a gentle voice. He immediately tenses, and you know he still doesn’t want to discuss it, but you’re not leaving Manchester without talking to him about this. “I saw the look on your face when I asked about the game tomorrow, babe. Please just talk to me.” 

“I don’t want to burden you with all this,” Mason says, refusing to meet your gaze. “I know how busy you are-“

“I told you, you’re my priority, Mase,” you insist. “And it’s actually more concerning when I don’t know what’s going on with you. If you talk to me, then maybe I can help.”

Mason sighs and moves into a more upright position, still holding your hand and playing with your fingers as a way of grounding himself as he gathers his thoughts. 

“I just never thought it would be like this, you know?” he mutters. “I thought that coming here would solve everything I was going through at Chelsea, but in a lot of ways it’s been even harder.”

You nod for him to continue, gently squeezing his hand.

“I thought when all the contract stuff was resolved and I was at a new club everything would be fine, but then it’s just been constant injuries and trying to adjust to a whole new life without actually being able to do the thing I love most,” he goes on, making your heart splinter even more. “Fifty-five million pounds and I don’t have a single goal to show for it.”

“You can’t help that you’ve been injured, baby,” you say softly, though you know he already knows that. “If you were in top form, you’d be scoring goals all over the place. I know it.”

He smiles slightly, always grateful for your neverending confidence in him. You’ve been his biggest fan from the moment you met, cheering him on through every high and low of his career. 

“Maybe, but I haven’t had the chance to try,” he mutters. “I’m just stuck here, being useless to the club and hours away from you. I basically upended our lives just to end up not playing for months.”

“Mase, if I’m not allowed to feel guilty for us being apart, neither are you,” you say firmly. “Coming to United was the right decision. It may not feel like it now, but I promise it will in the long run. And if not, we’ll find a new place for you to show everyone how amazing of a footballer you are. Even if it’s in a different city or another country, we’ll figure it out.”

“Babe, I feel bad enough that you’re moving away from London to be here next year, I’m not gonna ask you to move again,” Mason says, still fiddling with your fingers. “I have to make it work here.”

“And I’m sure you will as soon as you’re better,” you tell him, bringing your joined hands to your lips. “But if it ends up not being a good fit, I will happily follow you anywhere you want to go.”

“Even the States?” Mason jokes, making you roll your eyes and poke him the ribs. “It would be cool to play with Messi.”

“You are not going to the MLS any time soon,” you reprimand him. “But yes, I would go to Florida for you, babe. That is how much I love you.”

Mason laughs, moving your joined hands so it’s his turn to lay kisses on your knuckles.

“Wouldn’t be so bad. The weather’s good, and we could hang out with the Beckhams,” he says, smiling against your skin. “We could take our kids to the beach-“

“Oh, our kids, huh?” you remark, raising an eyebrow. 

“Well, by the time I’m actually ready to play in the MLS…” 

“Alright, we’ll move to Florida with our hypothetical children in ten years,” you say decisively. “Then you can retire and stay home with them while I work.”

“I could take them to Disney World every day,” Mason sighs happily. “Oh, and the Harry Potter thing! Our kids would love that.” 

As much as you’re both joking, the thought of a time in the future when you’re settled with a family and not having to deal with all the separation and uncertainty makes your heart feel warm and fuzzy. You can’t wait to have a family with him someday. 

“In all seriousness, babe, you’ve already accomplished so much in your career and I know you’re going to do so many more amazing things,” you tell him, reaching out to cup his cheek. “And even more importantly, you are such an incredible person off the pitch.“

Mason blushes, leaning into your palm and holding it to his face so you don’t withdraw your touch. You know he struggles to take compliments sometimes, but you also know that this is something he needs to hear. 

“Which is why I refuse to listen to you call yourself useless when you do so much for your family, the community, for me - you make everything better, Mase,” you say softly. “That’s why are so loved. It’s why I fell in love with you, not because of your job.”

He takes a moment to soak up what you’re saying, still holding your hand to his face and pressing a few kisses to your palm. 

“You mean you’re not in it for the money?” he says after a minute, eliciting an eye roll from you. 

“It’s mostly for the money, but the abs don’t hurt either,” you tease, poking his stomach and making him laugh out loud for the first time in as long as you can remember. 

Mason pulls you into his arms again, leaning back and tucking you into his chest so your nose is pressed to his neck. You give him another tight squeeze, unable to get enough of his cuddles.

“Thank you so much, baby,” he mumbles into your hair as he slowly rubs his hand over your back. “For coming and for making me talk about this stuff. You always know exactly what I need.”

“Of course, my love,” you murmur. “Just promise me you’ll keep talking to me, okay? I don’t care how busy I am, I want to know what’s going on with you.”

“I promise,” Mason swears, squeezing your hand that rests over his heart. “And the same goes for you. I know how stressful this term has been, but I’m always here even if I can’t physically be there to help.”

“I know you are,” you smile. “And I know you’re the reason Ben or Woody brought me dinner or care packages before every midterm. They wouldn’t admit it, but I suspected they were under orders to check in on me.”

Mason chuckles. “Yeah, well, gotta send in the subs when I can’t do it myself.”

You hug him even tighter, throwing a leg over his and letting him shift you back into a more comfortable position for sleep. You’re yawning again, the exhaustion finally catching up to you now that the worry gnawing at your mind over Mason has been relieved.

“So, for tomorrow,” you say, your voice lower now that you’re both getting sleepy. “I think we should go to the game with Luke and Anouska, she already texted me and asked us to come over for dinner afterward. That way you and Luke can show your faces at Old Trafford and we can spend some time with them and the kids. Then, you and I can come back home and have a bit of a romantic night in.”

Mason doesn’t respond right away, and you give him a moment before you look up at him to see if something’s wrong. But when you do, you see only an adoring gaze and gentle smile on his face.

“Is that plan good with you?” you ask, “we don’t have to do any of it, I just thought-“

“No, no, it sounds perfect,” Mason cuts you off. “You’re perfect. I was just thinking about how much I love you.”

Your heart melts even more for him, if that’s possible, and you can’t resist leaning in to press another lingering kiss to his lips.

“I love you too,” you say, pressing a few more kisses to his cheeks and nose for good measure. “Now, let’s get a good night’s sleep so I can show you how much I love you in the morning, yeah?”

Mason nods with childlike enthusiasm, making you giggle again as you lay your head back on his chest. 

You can’t wait for the time to come that all of your nights end like this, curled up next to the love of your life, but for now, you’re grateful for this one.

No matter how many miles are between you, your heart is always gonna be wherever Mason is. He’s your home, whether you’re on opposite ends of the globe or in the same bed. 

You sleep better than you have in months.

please leave me a comment if you enjoyed this or send me an ask just to chat, love hearing from all of you xx

[kooktrash]

Fighting heart mc has a little accident at home and needs to go to the hospital (maybe for stitches?) and jk calls her and nurse pick it up and says that she’s in hospital 😌 And of course he got panicked and rushed to the hospital and even after he saw that she’s perfectly fine he can’t help but cry because of the fear and all those ugly emotions (and he thought that something big happened to her) 😭😭 And of course he wouldn’t stop gushing over her and be her ‘yes man’

oooof I missed these two idk. jk has always been the more stressed out one so I could def see him completely losing his shit while oc is like “🤷🏽‍♀️Shit happens” he def makes a bigger deal out of it.

FIGHTING HEART

warnings: mentions of bl**d, oc cuts her leg with glass. jk gets anxiety from it. oc needed stitches 2.4K words.

You never considered yourself a handy man of any sort. You hate getting your hands dirty and you hate doing any sort of hard labor at all—it’ll mess up your manicure, but today you didn’t have much of a choice. You had just been lounging around your apartment all day with Jimin who decided he would come over and keep you company. Your boyfriend, Jungkook, has been stuck training lately because he’s got a big fight coming up and Jin has been really strict on him because of it. Even if he won’t admit it, you know he’s been stressed because if he wins, he’ll win big.

Jungkook has finally begun to really establish himself as a real boxer and right now he’s getting so many calls from just about anyone in the boxing world looking to set a match with him. He’s so close to being the lightweight champion and you know it’s been a lot of pressure on him so all you’ve wanted to do was show him your support and show him he could rely on you.

Maybe that’s why you decided to tackle this issue on your own today.

“You’re scaring me, Y/n,” Jimin said as he watched you stand on your kitchen counter trying to switch out a lightbulb, “If you fall Jungkook is going to kill me.”

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes as you turned to him with the huge, heavy lightbulb in your hands, “Stop being so negative, I’m very capable of changing a lightbulb, thank you very much.”

Jimin released a sigh, “I mean… if you say so.”

Jungkook was exhausted, his body ached everywhere and all he wanted to do was drive over to you, pull you into a bath with him and hopefully fall asleep after. Lately it feels like all he’s done is train with Hobi and right now he just wants to stop it all and go see you.

Of course he’s thankful for all the opportunities he’s been given in life but right now he just wants to be selfish and hang out with the love of his life without worrying about the newest brand deal—which right now, Calvin Klein has been blowing up Jin’s phone to sign the new and upcoming boxer as a brand ambassador. He thinks he’ll do it but only if he can get you signed on as well, it’s not like they would say no with the connections you have. Maybe he’ll talk to you about it tonight.

“Alright Kook, you wanna rest up tonight because tomorrow we’re doing it all over again,” Hoseok said to him as they walked toward their parked cars ready to end today’s session, “Are you going to see Y/n?”

“That’s the plan,” Jungkook said, already taking his phone out to call you, “I’m thinking we’ll get dinner and after that probably just lounge around.”

They said their goodbyes and once Jungkook was in the privacy of his car, he called you. Lately, he’s been so busy he almost feels guilty for not being able to see you. You’re so supportive and loving and all he wants to do is spend all his time with you but he’s finally doing something with his life and it’s all because of you so he just continues to push himself to his limits. He wants to be with someone worthy of you, no matter how many times you assure him you’ll love him no matter what.

You chose him over anyone else, even when you saw his poor living conditions with leaking roofs and broken cabinets. You stayed with him when you saw him lose control at an underground fight club. You’ve chosen him and he loves you so much that he misses you anytime he’s away.

When the call went to voicemail he couldn’t help but be confused, you told him you would just be home today so he wondered why you wouldn’t answer. Maybe you were sleeping or not around your phone, so he called you again just to be sure.

“Hello?”

Jungkook pulled the phone away from his ear, looking down at the screen to make sure he had in fact called you and not whatever guy was currently answering the phone, “Y/n?”

“Jungkook,” Jimin cleared his throat awkwardly, “Um, this is Jimin.”

He released a breath in relief, “Oh, where’s Y/n?”

“Um,” Jimin bit his lip nervously as he looked behind him. Jungkook waited for him to speak but the longer he stayed quiet the more worried he got. Why did Jimin answer your phone and why did he seem so nervous?

“Y/n can’t really answer the phone right now,” Jimin said, already imagining your overprotective boyfriend plunging his fist into Jimin’s pretty head, “She had an accident an—“

“What?” Jungkook hit the brakes hard, completely forgetting he was trying to drive out of the parking lot, “What do you mean accident? Where is she?”

“We’re at the hospital right now, they’re giving her stitches—“

“Where?” Jungkook’s voice dropped to a low octave as his blood ran cold. He barely listened to the hospital Jimin told him before he was hanging up and speeding toward you. He ran a couple red lights but he didn’t even care. He felt his anxiety begin to spike up to the point where his chest tightened painfully and it was getting hard for him to breathe.

Getting to the hospital all happened in a blur, he went straight to the E.R section and he knew that the nurse behind the counter thought he looked crazy.

He was drenched in sweat from training and his eyes were red, his hands shaky and his voice cracked when he asked what room you were in.

“She’s just finishing up surgery and she’ll be out soon, I’ll take you to where the friend is waiting,” the nurse said and he anxiously followed after her, biting his lip so hard that it bled. The elevator ride felt like an eternity and he ignored the nurse’s warning not to run as he searched for Jimin who sat outside the room with his head down.

“What happened?” Jungkook asked and there was no denying the panic in his voice. Jimin shot up out of his seat looking a little scared by the way Jungkook glared at him. Jimin bit his lip, “We were in her kitchen and Y/n was trying to change a stupid lightbulb and—“

“Ow!”

Jungkook looked to the room, the blinds were closed so he couldn’t even look in and the door was shut, “Oh my god, did she fall?”

Jimin nodded subtly, “Y/n dropped the bulb and I think it s-scared her and she ended up falling a-and, glass was everywhere a—“

“What the fuck were you doing?!” Jungkook yelled louder than he meant to and others immediately turned to him with worry. Jimin’s eyes widened at the way Jungkook grabbed at him and once Jungkook realized what he was doing, he immediately let him go, “I’m sorry, Jimin. Sorry… b-but, if something happens to Y/n…”

“I know man,” Jimin put a hand on his shoulder, “She’s just getting a few stitches and she’ll be out soon. I’m sorry.”

Jungkook sat down with his head in his hands, hiding himself as he shut his eyes trying to get his brain to shut up. He knows that you’ll be fine but he can’t help but imagine the worse. He’s been so busy lately and he told you he would switch the stupid lightbulb for you and just kept forgetting. This is all his fault. All of it.

The thought of you being hurt in even the slightest way made him sick to his stomach. You weren’t supposed to get hurt. He’s supposed to keep you safe and be there for you and he hasn’t been and he feels so fucking shitty because all he can picture right now is your fall. How bad was it? How did it happen? Jimin said there was glass everywhere…

How hurt were you?

It felt like years passed before they were finally let into the room. Jimin stood behind with guilt written all over his face as Jungkook went right to your side, immediately holding your face in his hands, “Baby, tell me you’re okay.”

“I’m okay,” you said with a smile as you looked down at your leg, “Just a couple stitches, nothing too bad.”

“Six stitches and a large piece of glass in her heel,” the doctor said as he looked down at his paperwork. Jungkook was hovering over you with his forehead pressed against yours, “I’m so sorry.”

“For what?” You asked brushing his sticky hair out of his face, “I’m fine.”

“She did great,” the doctor said, finally getting Jungkook’s attention, “We’re going to prescribe something for the pain and finish up some paperwork. We have a pair of crutches Y/n could use but she should be healed in about three weeks. As of right now, I’d say put as little weight on her foot as possible, it was a big fall and she’s definitely bruised up.”

“Thank you, doctor,” Jungkook said and you looked at him. Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion as you looked down at your boyfriend who lifted your knuckles to his lips and kissed the top of them. You could see his reddened eyes and when he looked up at you it was clear he was crying, this is the second time you’ve seen your strong boyfriend cry and it broke you.

“Jimin,” you looked to your friend, “Can you give us a minute?”

The doctor took that as his cue to go get the paperwork and leave with your friend until it was just you and Jungkook. “Baby,” you called to him once you were alone and he allowed himself to fully break down against your hospital bed, “What’s wrong? Are you mad? I know you told me to wait b-but, I just wan—“

“I’m so sorry,” he cried, tears falling down his cheeks, “I’m so fucking sorry, Y/n. I keep telling you over and over again that I want to be someone you deserve and I just keep disappointing you.”

You sat up suddenly, wincing a little as you shifted your leg and Jungkook immediately looked up with fear, “Jungkook, this isn’t your fault at all. This was an accident, I was being impatient. Even Jimin told me it was a bad idea but I wanted to prove that I could do things on my own, obviously not bu—“

“Baby, you’re so strong and you don’t even know it,” Jungkook said as he sat down on the edge, careful not to take up too much room, “So strong and smart that you can do anything. I just… I should’ve just done it the first time you told me.”

“Don’t blame yourself for this,” You combed his hair back before wiping his tears away with your thumb, “And shouldn’t I be the one crying? I just got six stitches.”

Jungkook sniffled as he leaned forward and pulled you into a tight hug, “I was so scared, baby, so fucking scared that something horrible happened and I just… I just couldn’t get over the fact that I wasn’t around.”

Your eyes met his and to help him calm down, and remind him he won’t lose you, you kissed him. Jungkook kissed you back wantonly, hand in your hair and salty tears on his tongue, “I love you so much.”

The wait for the paperwork took forever and Jimin sat in the corner of the room watching you and Jungkook. He had been so exhausted from his training that when he rested his head on your chest, he fell asleep.

“You’ve got a very concerned boyfriend on your hands,” the nurse said once she returned, “I hear he caused a commotion downstairs and out in the hall just worried sick about you.”

“I’m sure he did,” you said in a whisper, brushing a finger against his cheek that had him waking up slowly, eyes hazy as he looked up at you.

“Alright, well just follow the doctor’s orders, once the numbing block wears off you’ll feel some pain because you sprained your ankle. We’ll do a follow up in about a week, how does that sound? Now I need the one she’ll be leaving with to sign these documents.

“Sounds good, we’ll be here,” Jungkook had your hand in his as he signed the paper with his free hand, there were crutches in her hands and she was motioning for you to try and sit up. Jungkook didn’t hesitate to tuck an arm under your back and the other one under your knees before he was lifting you up.

“No need for crutches?” The nurse asked, watching Jungkook pick you up with ease. Jimin took them from her with a thank you, “I guess not.”

“Babe, I can walk,” you tried telling him as he cradled you in his arms, “I’m heavy.”

“Shh, I’ve made guys bigger than you tap out with one punch,” Jungkook said as he carried you to the elevator with Jimin hot on your trails, “I think I’m capable of carrying my injured girlfriend to the car.”

When you got to the hotel you lived at, Jungkook had yet to let your feet touch the car even once. He helped you to bed using a pillow to rest your leg and making sure you were comfortable as he ran around looking for things you might need.

You giggled, “Kook, I’m not paralyzed, I can walk, just give me some time.”

“I know you’re strong babe but I really don’t want you over exerting yourself,” he said, “Just tell me what you want and I’ll go do it.”

“I still need the lightbulb fixed.”

“On it.”

Jungkook ran out to the kitchen, nearly crying again once he saw the mess on your perfectly polished marble floors. Once again he was reminded that you had probably been in a lot of pain and he wasn’t around. There was blood mixed with thin glass all over the floor and he went to your supply closet to get the cleaning supplies. If Jimin wasn’t around, what would have happened? Would you have forced yourself to stand and call an ambulance? Would you have called him or would you think he was too busy to answer?

The next morning Jungkook did not leave your side one bit. He called Hobi and told him he wouldn’t make it to training and spent his day doing everything he could for you.

permanent taglist: @notmyfaultbutours @rerefundslocals @fandems @sugaluvmyg @guvgguk @kimyishin @libra04 @kooromiwrld @classycreationcupcake-blog @alwaysdreamingnotsleeping @cherrymonlightt @nikkiordonez12 @asking4-sanity @thvlover @saweetspoiled @uwu2rawr @shaybts-blog @babycandy111 @tearyjjeon @joons-uparupa @jeonninja @yellowcupid08 @02010802faves @knudsenheggedel @skzthinker @unnatae @aurorthi @beautywine @95ene @taekookstata @lilliankoo @shescharlie @annenakamura a @lesoleile @burnahtsw @babybella337 @kooloveys @ku-ku @chaelvrx @minnie-mouser22 @Imeneghd @whoa-jo @evajeonsworld @marvelbun @sunnikthv v @kochycooky @heyhowyoudoin3 @acielelyseen @giselleswifeee @jeonjk25 @ilikeitlikethatt @bangmechanpls @lvr2seok @badbyeyoongi @jaerisdiction @watermelonjuice15 @artmsmaid @xyahrinx @angeleen777 @jooniesxbby @brillantdarling

[where-dreams-dwell]

*One Day Netflix Spoilers*

You can interpret it however works for you, and I don’t know how it played out in the book, but I loved the scene where Em and Dex got together.

Because Emma *chose* Dexter. When she didn’t have to, when she had other options, knowing all of his baggage, and knowing that they would probably be able to stay friends if she didn’t. And she still chose to start something romantic with him.

Emma was at the highest point of her success: a published author, signed for a second book, sent to live abroad in an exciting new city. And she’d started seeing someone who (from the little we see) is kind, charming, and cares for her. Emma is winning in every sense!

And she initially rejects Dexter. Her reasons make sense; she doesn’t feel he truly *wants* to be with her, just that she’s there and he’s lonely. She is sure of herself and her place in the world, and turns down the man she used to crush on because she wants it to be real. When given this opportunity were not shown a knee jerk, desperate, ‘oh my god, finally, yes!’ moment when he says he wants to be with her. She was NOT waiting on this, and she’s not PINING for him. It actually shows huge strength that when the man she used to like finally wants to be with her, she has the inner strength to say no and stick to what she deserves; a proper relationship with someone who truly wants her, not a placeholder.

Dexter lays his heart on the line, leaves himself competent venerable, and Em says no.

You could interpret Em coming back as unsatisfactory: a woman in her prime, going back to the man she’s been pining over most of her adult life. But it can also be seen as an empowering moment.

Emma knows all of Dexters issues and chooses him anyway. Dexter has literally just laid out his current headspace and issues, and it’s clear she was supporting him as the divorce was announced and agreed upon. And previous episodes show they’ve been close throughout Dexters marriage and fatherhood, with Em stopping in at his job and answering his late night calls. She’s been his best friend again for several years and knows his struggles, so she is going in to any romantic relationship with her eyes open.

Reducing Emma’s choice to being a silly or naive one I think misses huge parts of who she is, things which are key to her characterisation. Throughout the series she’s shown as intelligent, savvy, switched on and determined. Even when she’s unhappy or trying different things, she is sure in her conviction to do *something*. When she’s unhappy at the restaurant and Dex suggests teaching she makes a career change and trains. When she’s at her lowest (post headteacher affair and loosing Dex) she turns rock bottom into a spring board and tries once again to write her novel.

Emma is the embodiment of conviction. Whether it’s knowing what she wants or just knowing what she doesn’t, she is decisive and commits to her path. She’s the perfect foil for Dex who’s lesson across the series is to stop running from difficult feelings, and learn to process unpleasant emotions.

So she didn’t choose Dexter on a whim, and I love that they showed that. Em leaves Dex, turns him down, and goes to dinner with her lover in the city she’s loving living in, while doing the job she always wanted.

And she could have left it like that and they would have likely remaking friends. They did after that kiss at Tilly’s wedding, and after they slept together. So she has nothing to loose by rejecting him.

But Emma *chooses* Dex. She knows herself and what she wants, she knows who she is and what she is now capable of. What she wants, if it’s on the table, is to be with Dexter. So she commits to it.

They could have made her jump at the option to be with Dex. The writer could have had them get together when Dex was at the height of his fame or Em at the lowest point of her life. And either of those could have easily had a sense of fear on Em’s part: to be equal to Dex, to be good enough for him (in her head), to finally make it. But doing it this way gives her all the power, all the agency. And I *love* that.

From comments later it’s clear their relationship was good, they do work well together and they make one another happy. We’ll never know how Emma’s life could have gone if she stayed with Jean-Pierre. But the life she chose with Dex *was* happy. As Ian said ‘[Dex] made her so so happy’: wether you think she could have done better or deserved more, a life with someone who makes you happy… isn’t an insignificant thing.

We’ll never know if it was *the right* choice to be with Dex. But seeing how happy she was it’s clear it was a *good* choice. And that’s all we can ever hope for.

[chosetherose]

Two Graves One Gun

So Long London continues the saga of celebrity versus soul. The only way to cure Taylor’s sadness is for her to bid farewell to bearding, and perhaps the closet.

If you can look past the red herrings in this song, you will find a deeply layered masterpiece that illuminates Taylor's battle with herself; how past plans made to maintain her celebrity have marred her soul. She doesn't want to live life like this anymore and is willing to burn her brand down to the ground to free her soul.

As always, the analysis I've written here is only one interpretation of this song. I'm not claiming it is "correct" but I encourage you to plow through (this is a very long post) and consider what I've laid out.

For context, I believe London is a metaphor for bearding. Here is some background for the new folks:

For most of her career, Taylor’s beards have been from the UK. Specifically, from 2012-2023 her beards were Harry Styles then Calvin Harris then Tom Hiddleston then Joe Alwyn.

The beginning of this stage was right around the time she started crossing over into pop music. Red is her first real leap into pop music and to do this successfully she needs to expand both domestically (to pop audiences that don't listen to country music) and internationally (her first opportunity for this since the rest of the world doesn't listen to much country music).

She started bearding with Harry Styles in late 2012, within weeks of Red's release then milks that short lived stunt for 1989 as well. What a way to capture a new pop audience made up of fans abroad and at home. Rinse and repeat until her priority changes to long-term privacy and she finds that aided by an unknown actor named Toe. Even though Taylor's current beard is American, suffice to say one can look at London as a metaphor for bearding given history.

[Intro]

So (So) long (Long), London (London) [repeated]

Pay attention to how she sings this...She breaks "London" into "Lon" and "Don".

So SO / Long LONG / Lon LON / Don DON

This is a sneakily beautiful way to emphasize: So! Long! Don(e)! ...Like "I've been bearding for so long and I'm done with it" or "So long, bearding! I'm done!" Yes, this is a reach but read the rest of this post and circle back. As this intro closes the final "Don(e)!" fades into the upticked beat.

[Verse 1]

I saw in my mind fairy lights through the mist

I kept calm and carried the weight of the rift

Pulled him in tighter each time he was drifting away

My spine split from carrying us up the hill

Wet through my clothes, weary bones caught the chill

I stopped trying to make him laugh, stopped trying to drill the safe

Taylor seeing fairy lights through the mist sounds like she sees daylight at the end of a tunnel opaque from lavender haze. She keeps focused on this goal, carrying on with all these beards over the years. Although she's able to appear calm during these stunts, living life like this has forged a rift within herself. She beards because it's advantageous for her brand but her soul despises the ruse.

Side note: “Keep Calm and Carry On was a motivational poster produced by the Government of the United Kingdom in 1939 in preparation for World War II.” -Wikipedia. A bit of history that I think furthers the idea that Taylor was battling to keep going.

Tayor has to balance these aspects of herself continually - Too much stunting? Her soul needs a break. Had a good break from stunting? She needs to feed the grocery line Swifties to keep them at bay. It's an idea that got me thinking about yin and yang, "an opposite but interconnected, self-perpetuating cycle." (Wiki). I am not an expert on this concept but I know I've noticed it has come up throughout conversations about TTPD. If yin and yang is relevant for this album, as I believe it is in multiple songs, in the context of this verse it feels related to Taylor's constant need to find balance between the celebrity version of herself we see on our screens and the true version of herself only she can see in the mirror.

This cycle wears on Taylor so much that her spine splits from the weight. She has been slogging through stunts, dreaming of freedom, for years. It's been storming so long her clothes are soaked and she feels the chill down in her bones.

Because of the pain she decides to change strategy. Theres no more attempts to make her situation lighter or find ways to deal with it. And think about this - if you're trying to drill the safe open it means either A) you feel like you've tried all the codes and are resorting to brute force, and/or B) you're running out of time and growing desperate. Taylor is past even those points and is giving up entirely.

[Chorus]

Thinking how much sad did you think I had

Did you think I had in me?

Oh, the tragedy

So long, London

You’ll find someone

The chorus reminds me of talking to a past version of yourself that made plans for a future you. We know Taylor must plan her life years in advance so perhaps she is asking her past self something like, “Why did you think I could handle continued bearding? Did you really think I could handle all the sadness I'm feeling today?”

Then I think the second half of this chorus is saying goodbye to bearding, symbolized by London, because she can’t bear the sadness anymore. Maybe the "you'll find someone" line is aimed at the fans a la "you should find another guiding light" like you guys will find someone else to fawn over in the tabloids.

Side note: I love the double entendre here. Because so long means goodbye but it has also been so long that she’s been bearding (largely with British men).

[Verse 2]

I didn't opt in to be your odd man out

I founded the club she's heard great things about

I left all I knew, you left me at the house by the Heath

I stopped CPR, after all, it's no use

The spirit was gone, we would never come to

And I'm pissed off you let me give you all that youth for free

I don't have a strong opinion on the first two lines of this version. What comes to mind is she didn't opt in to be an openly LGBTQIA+ artist, she chose to closet and beard. Then other younger closeted celebrities have looked to her as a blueprint.

In the process of bearding for stardom, her soul abandoned all she knew. I think there is a red herring here as Heath could reference Hampstead Heath (which has connections to Toe) but it’s also continuing on the house theme that Taylor sings about. Here, it doesn’t sound like this house is a home. She’s not singing about chandeliers flickering inside, it’s “the” house by a heath -- “Heathland is characterized by plants such as heather, bilberry, gorse and bracken, which occur on infertile and well-drained soils. Open heaths have been highly modified by humans for centuries and are maintained by grazing or cutting.” She’s stuck somewhere that’s by drained her via death by a thousand cuts lol.

Again, it's weighed on her. So she's decided to stop trying to revive the disconnect between her soul and her celebrity, it’s no use trying anymore. She’s realized they could never fully come together.

And she’s pissed off she let her celebrity rob her of an open, free, youth where she could live truthfully. Recall that in Peace she sings, “a coming of age has come and gone” which to me means she feels she can’t explain a coming out via a youthful awakening angle. She’s at the age where people will understand she’s known this for years but hasn’t shared with the world. This will raise questions she won’t be able to answer because it’s all too tangled (NDAs, outing beards, etc.).

[Chorus]

For so long, London/ Stitches undone

Two graves, one gun

I'll find someone

For so long, she’s been bearding, stunting, hiding her true self to reach and/or maintain celebrity. It’s caused her stitches to come undone. This wording is interesting because it implies she had a wound from living this life hiding her truth, they tried to fix her up as her celebrity status soared, but it didn’t work because the sadness was too great.

Perhaps there's two graves and one gun because on the path to daylight she will kill both her celebrity and the sadness of her closeted self. Not how she switches from "you" will find someone to "I" will find someone. This is because she will destroy every version of herself that she's ever known if she comes out one day. She will rise like a Phoenix through the ashes to discover a new version of herself in the daylight.

Note that the Spotify clip for this song, from the Fortnight video, feels significant. First, Taylor looks up toward the daylight. Then, with heavy breaths and a concerned face, she rifles through her art (words written out on a typewriter). We know in the rest of this scene she is lighting her art on fire. Two graves one gun on a path to daylight.

[Bridge Part 1]

And you say I abandoned the ship

But I was going down with it

My white-knuckle dying grip

Holding tight to your quiet resentment

I imagine these first lines of the bridge to be aimed toward those in her life, on her team, etc. that steered her toward closeting to gain/keep fame. Maybe she has plans and they are saying by coming out she is abandoning the ship (her celebrity) they've all worked hard to build. In Miss Americana we heard her team tell her that coming out as a Democrat would halve the numbers of her next tour. Can you imagine what would be said about a coming out?

But what they don’t understand is that living this life is killing her. She’s been holding on to all the subtle ways they’ve told her over the years that her career will sink if she comes out of the closet.

[Bridge Part 2]

And my friends said it isn't right to be scared

Every day of a love affair

Every breath feels like rarest air

When you're not sure if he wants to be there

When she confides with her friends about it all they tell her she shouldn’t be afraid to take steps toward the daylight because look where she is now. She’s been stunting for years (love affairs in the tabloids) and it's awful for her. So terrible that she's grasping for breaths, unsure if she can still survive in this atmosphere (thin/rare air means its not a hospitable environment for Taylor).

[Chorus]

So how much sad did you think I had

Did you think I had in me?

How much tragedy?

Just how low did you think I'd go

Before I'd self-implode?

Before I'd have to go be free?

Again, I think she’s talking to her past self here. “How could I have thought I’d survive sinking this low? How could I not realize I’d reach a point where I’d self-implode?” Which here, self-implosion is telling a similar story as I think the two graves one gun lyrics do — the result of the self implosion is being free. If she blows up her celebrity and she will be free to live her truth, curing the sadness that has been ruling her life for years.

[Verse 3]

You swore that you loved me, but where were the clues?

I died on the altar waiting for the proof

You sacrificed us to the gods of your bluest days

And I'm just getting color back into my face

I'm just mad as hell cause I loved this place

I imagine this verse is aimed at her fans, the grocery line Swifties who believe her beards are real boyfriends. I read “you swore that you loved me but where were the clues?” as a sarcastic jab because she’s been screaming 🌈 for whoever is willing to listen. The fans claim to love Taylor but they aren’t willing to really listen to her.

Most people here “altar” and think of a wedding but the definition is much broader, “In religion, a raised structure or place that is used for sacrifice, worship, or prayer” (Wiki). So Taylor was up on the altar, a place of worship, waiting for clues that these fans actually loved her. But what started as worship became sacrifice as these fans never found love for who Taylor really is all the while the bearding and hiding were causing Taylor deep sadness.

Despite all this, she loves her job and her fans. The sadness is too much though. She is about to self implode and feels its time to take steps toward a brighter future. It’s maddening as hell to metaphorically blow up your life just as your fame is escalating to new heights you’ve reached for your whole career.

[Chorus]

For so long, London (So long, London)

Had a good run A moment of warm sun But I'm not the one So long, London Stitches undone Two graves, one gun You'll find someone

For so long, she bearded. She had a good run, getting away with it all, reaching levels of fame she always dreamed of. But she's not the one to keep the charade going (as opposed to her heroes who unfortunately 'died' closeted). Goodbye, bearding. The wound was too big to fix. With one action, I will kill the version of myself you (the fans) know and the version of myself I know. You (the fans) will find someone else to worship.

...

I could keep tweaking this theory for weeks but these are my initial thoughts on this song about two weeks out from TTPD's release. This album is incredible complex but for me the signs we keep getting are all pointing toward significant change. There is a momentum going right now that I haven't felt since the early Lover era. No matter what happens or how long it takes, I hope our fearless Chairman gets the chance to bask in the sun shiniest daylight. She deserves the warmth.

💕 CTR

[kcwriter-blog]

The Theme of Forgiveness in Cole’s Personal Quest

The theme of The Veilguard will be regret. But there is more to getting past regret than just deciding to get over it. To experience regret is to experience shame and guilt. It is to feel sorry for causing pain. It is about penance and forgiveness.

While I don’t know how that will play out in The Veilguard, I believe we see some of those same themes in Cole’s personal quest, Subjected to His Will. As Trick Weekes wrote Cole, Solas and presumably the quest, I think there are aspects of it that could be relevant to Rook and Solas’ arcs in Veilguard. Since there are potential spoilers, I will put the rest under the cut.

The quest revolves around the question of whether Cole should become more like a spirit or more human. There are pros and cons to each, and I really don’t think there is a right or wrong answer. What is interesting is how very Old Testament that section of the quest is.

Cole, Varric, Solas and the Inquisitor find the man responsible for the real Cole’s death. Cole’s immediate reaction when confronting him is, understandably, anger. It’s not so much that Cole wants revenge as it is that he feels he must seek it. The man was responsible for the real Cole’s death; therefore, he must die. Basically, an eye for an eye.

It’s an interesting set up because we aren’t being asked to decide whether the man will die. As Varric points out, no one is suggesting that. We are being asked to decide how Cole will heal. Will it be by exacting revenge or by offering forgiveness.

One thing we always overlook during the quest is the ex-Templar himself. We don’t consider his feelings. Feelings he has been living with since the day the real Cole died.

What we know immediately is that he is an ex-Templar. He wouldn’t be buying black market lyrium if he wasn’t. We also know how harsh a life that is due to Cullen and Samson’s backstories. As the Templars wouldn’t care about the real Cole’s death, he wasn’t kicked out because of that. Which means he probably left the order because he couldn’t stand to be reminded of what he had done. He regrets it. He is sorry.

So, on one side we have a man who feels so guilty, he leaves the order, subjecting himself to a precarious existence because he can’t forgive himself. On the other, we have the person harmed by his actions, seeking recompense.

Cole has two options. Or rather, we are given two possible paths for him. If the Inquisitor sides with Varric, he is offered the opportunity to exact revenge. This helps Cole grow but I would argue it is the easier option. Vengeance is simple. It makes us feel better right away. Forgiveness is much, much harder.

Why then does Solas advocate for it? Because forgiving someone who is truly repentant is an act of compassion. Cole is a spirit of compassion. To become more of what he once was, he must find compassion in himself.

And it is hard. I love the imagery of the scene where Cole confronts the Templar. The man realizes his sins have caught up to him. He sinks to his knees in front of Cole. Now he is at Cole’s mercy. At which point Solas steps in and asks Cole to feel the man’s pain.

Solas is asking Cole to empathize with the man, to try to understand not why he did what he did, but how he has felt every day since then. He wants Cole to understand that the man has been punishing himself. He has been doing penance. It isn’t working because he cannot forgive himself. He needs to be forgiven by the person he hurt.

Once Cole understands that the man has been punishing himself, he no longer feels the need to kill him. Forgiveness is Cole’s to grant or not grant. He has that much power. He chooses to forgive and in so doing frees them both.

While both ways of resolving Cole’s situation are valid,I believe that withholding forgiveness does not do Cole any good. All Cole learns from the experience is that taking a life for a life doesn’t solve anything. That doesn’t mean you heal. It just means you accept. Cole will never truly be free of the knowledge that the person he tried to help died. He was too late.

I should add that this doesn’t help the Templar either. He remembers what he did and apologizes because he fears for his life. Afterwards? He thinks the person he kills lives which means all he has done since then was pointless. That can lead to bitterness, resentment and possibly him hurting others because of it.

Now what does all this have to do with Rook and Solas? Well, Solas is carrying around about a thousand years worth of regret and guilt. Rook is probably carrying some also. Both for something they did that was supposed to save the world and ended up making things worse. They both will need to heal which means they will both need to find or accept compassion so they can forgive themselves.

[wttcsms]

daylight ; colt grice.

pairing colt grice x f!reader word count 14.3k synopsis colt grice's life has never been easy, and it's about to get a hell of a lot worse. content contains sw!reader, canon discrimination against eldians, depictions of violence, blood, taking care of him when he's injured, slowburn author's note this is part one of four!! / repost bc the first time around, it didn't show up in tags </3

part one: no sharing names

“Are you scared?” 

The teenage girl sitting in front of the cracked vanity mirror is shaking. She’s been jittery all day, and as the sun started its descent, she’s only been growing increasingly more and more anxious. You wish you could tell her that it’s nothing to be scared of, but that would be a lie. 

Your whole line of work is built on lies; the last thing you need to do is let Work You bleed through into Real You.

“It’s okay if you are.” That’s what you settle for, slowly running a brush through the thick, dark layers of her hair. 

“Were you scared?” She’s a tiny thing; it’s no surprise that her voice would sound so small, too. It makes your heart break just a little more. 

“I was.” Seeing that your admission doesn’t make her feel any better, you add on, “Sometimes, I still get scared.” 

“Oh.” And then, “How do you still do it?”

“I don’t have a choice.” You pretend that most of your focus is on the knot in her hair and not the glimpse of the horrified expression on her face. She’s actually a very pretty girl. 

Being pretty is a double-edged sword. The benefit of this is that she’ll never run out of customers; the downside of this is that she’ll never run out of customers. You drag the brush through the knot of hair more aggressively than you intend to. 

She doesn’t say anything, so you elaborate. “It’s just me and Ramzi, you know.” The girl nods in acknowledgement. At the refugee camp, everybody seems to know each other; a side effect of living in cramped spaces and having more communal areas rather than private ones. A tight-knit community, but hardly by choice. When the whole world seems to harbor an unshakable hatred towards you, you learn to cling to the people who don’t. 

“And Ramzi… He can’t make money, and we can’t keep living off the kindness of others. So, if this is how Ramzi gets food in his belly, and clothes that fit, how could I possibly stop doing this?” It’s not as if Marley is a land of opportunity; oppression fits it much better. You set the brush down and start to braid her hair. “This isn’t… This isn’t a job you can retire from very quickly.” 

It’s not a job you can necessarily leave, either. Not just because the money is more than what you could make doing laundry and picking up after people’s dogs, but your work history will always follow behind you, a permanent stain on your record. It’s best that she comes to terms with this sooner rather than later. 

“I don’t know if I can do this.” She sounds broken, defeated. The sentence comes out as a sob, and you’re distinctly aware of how her cries only continue to chip away at your resolve. You wanted to remain cool and impersonal. You wanted to act as if taking the care to do her hair for her wasn’t an attempt to give the poor girl some sense of normalcy — of comfort — before she gets sent to the slaughter. You want — the most dangerous thing a girl like you could possibly ever do.

You’re hugging the girl before you can tell yourself that this is a bad idea. The goal was to wean her off comfort, not coddle her, smother her with affection and comfort and warm words. How will she possibly survive if she’s continuously clinging onto the warmth nobody she services will provide? You certainly weren’t given anything to prepare for your first night; no warnings, no reassurances, no comfort. It was a hard lesson to learn, that no one visiting this establishment would ever care about you. That no one here would ever see you as anything more than something they’ve paid for. 

Three more seconds. That’s how much longer you’ll give her to bury her face in your neck, wetting your exposed skin and probably getting snot in your hair. Three more seconds, and then you will (gently) pull her away from you. Three more seconds, and you will begin to properly prepare her for her condemnation. 

One—

Ramzi is probably getting ready for bed right about now. 

Two—

You reminded him that he needs to take care of himself and to remember to layer the thin blankets so he can try to get as much warmth out of those hand-me-downs. 

Three—

It’s going to be a cold night.

You remove yourself from the embrace, taking in the girl. Her big, brown eyes are still shiny from her tears, lashes slick from them. She’s sniffling, lips quivering, and she looks a mess. 

(You try to ignore that by the end of tonight, she will look even worse.) 

You want to hug her again, but already, you feel like you’ve done both too much and not enough. Yes, it’s nice to know that someone cares, but that won’t do much to help her survive this. You place your hands on her shoulders.

“Look at me.” 

She forces herself to look you in the eyes. The shift in your demeanor makes her cease her sniffling, and she’s finally still.

“You asked me how I’m still doing this. I’ll let you in on a little secret, alright? Can you keep a secret for me, honey?” 

She nods, too afraid to speak. 

“It’s just all a big game. And every game has rules, right?”

 She nods again.

“I’ll tell you the rules to mine. The first one is that they can’t know my name.” 

“Won’t they ask?” 

“They don’t pay me to tell ‘em the truth.” 

That gets a semblance of a smile on her face.

Before you can tell her any more, there’s a loud bang on the door.

“Girls, we’re about to open up shop!” Willa, the Eldian woman running this whole establishment, gives you two this warning. You can hear her loud voice traveling through all the thin walls in this place. She’s making her rounds, visiting the other girls’ rooms to let them know, too.

“Guess our time is up.”

“Wait, but you didn’t tell me any of your other rules! How will I know what to do?” She’s panicking, scrambling for any reason to stay here with you instead of facing whatever nightmare awaits her out there. She’s clinging onto your arms, acting like you’re her lifeline, and how sad it must be, you think, for you to be the person someone looks up to.

“It’s your game, honey. You can make up your own rules, change them as you go, make special exceptions. Whatever you want to do.” You brush back a few strands of her hair that clings to her still-wet cheeks. “Just focus on figuring out all the rules, especially when you’re searching for something to think about.”

The best rules usually come during the times where you want to focus on anything other than what’s presently happening to you. On your second night, there was a man who produced so much saliva, that when his mouth was drunkenly exploring every inch of your skin, you stared up at the peeling paint on the ceiling and decided right then and there that no man was allowed to kiss you on your lips. 

“Why can’t they know your real name?” She asks. “Everyone back home knows your name.”

“Everyone back home knows me.” The men that come here are mostly men who want to break you. To take something from you, everything from you, to leave you with nothing. It makes them feel powerful, knowing that they paid a cheap price for free-rein to destruction. 

That’s how you win the game: by not letting them break you. 

These men, they never stood a chance against the personas you fabricate for them. Different names, different personalities — it’s all make-believe. Those girls, the girls you pretend to be, are the ones that get destroyed every night. 

“Promise me that you will never give them a chance to know you, Nadia.”

She nods, but unlike every other time, this one is fueled with conviction. 

Colt Grice is acutely aware that he has absolutely no business being here. 

The bright yellow armband sticks out like a sore thumb, acting as a flashing arrow that separates him from the other soldiers flanked by his side. Some days, it feels too tight, too restrictive, too heavy of a burden. Tonight, it feels like a blemish. 

Even drunk, Colt knows these thoughts are dangerous. Any Eldian would kill to be a Warrior candidate, and he’s all too aware of the privileges he and his family have been granted because this yellow strip of fabric says he should be granted some respect.

Not too much, though. Show a devil a little reverence, and he’ll probably take you straight down to hell with him — he’s certain that’s how most people here see him. 

Soldiers coming to the red light district of Marley is nothing new. When training gets tough or there’s time to kill, drinking ensues. Where alcohol goes, bad decisions have a tendency to follow. 

Colt likes to think of himself as responsible. Sensible. Even if the Marleyans would deny it, he would even go so far as to think that he is a fairly good person. 

Stumbling down these dark streets, passing by brothels and love hotels, he thinks a good person probably wouldn’t be here right now. 

“It’s fucking freezing out here,” Michael purposely bumps his shoulder against Colt’s. “Are you freezing too, or do devils just not get cold?” 

From anyone else, it would be an insult. From Michael, it’s a joke. Like most of Michael’s jokes, they don’t necessarily land the way he intends them to, but Colt doesn’t bother telling him to work on his comedic timing or delivery; as nice of a guy as Michael is, he could still easily get Colt punished for treason with just one conversation with any of their superiors. 

“Do you ever get tired of slumming it with us devils?” The slur glides off his tongue too easily. Michael makes a face before slinging his arm over Colt’s shoulders as a show of good-natured camaraderie. With the flickering streetlights and the few other souls walking past, there’s really no one to bear witness to it. 

“Nah.” Michael clears his throat and sounds like he almost wants to say something else but decides against it at the last minute. A second later, and he’s belting out an old battlefield victory song taught during their childhood training. With everyone else in the group inebriated, it doesn’t take much to get them to drunkenly sing along. Colt smiles at their antics, but doesn’t join in. He wants to try to shift his armband around, but Michael’s arm is still thrown around him, and Colt decides he could really use another drink right about now. 

Instead of stopping at a bar like he hopes for, the rowdy group makes their way into the infamous “Gentleman’s Club.” The paint is peeling, there’s shattered glass right beneath the boarded up window, and the words on the sign are so faded, the G entle part of it is nearly imperceptible. 

Colt does not think he is getting another drink tonight.

He’s not sure what to expect from a brothel. He’s heard some stories in the barracks, but he usually makes an effort to tune out those type of crude tales. How would his mother feel about him indulging in any of the activities being described by his fellow soldiers? What type of example would he be setting for Falco? 

Eldian soldiers looking for a quick and easy release usually frequent the cheaper brothels. From an outside perspective, it’s hard for Colt to believe that any of these places could possibly be in worse shape than this building. The fact that this one is the nicest is enough to make Colt regret following the crowd tonight. 

The entrance of the Club is sparsely furnished, with a singular light bulb hanging from the ceiling, flickering and casting weird shadows everywhere. There are some pictures in frames hanging on the wall, but the inconsistent lighting makes it hard for Colt to properly make out any specific features of the girls photographed. 

A redheaded woman appears, taking in the group of half a dozen soldiers taking up all the limited space in her entrance. 

“First time?” She asks them. She sounds perfectly calm, but Colt doesn’t miss the way her sharp, green eyes seem to linger on Michael. 

If he runs out of this place right now, would any of these guys remember or are they too drunk to trust their memories? Before he can further debate the merits of hightailing it out of here, Michael pushes Colt forward.

“It’s my friend’s first time here. Mind showin’ him what a good time a couple of coins can get him?” He winks at Colt, obnoxiously mouthing out words that look an awful lot like you owe me one . 

Colt can feel his ears turning pink from embarrassment. 

“Of course.” The woman’s tight-lipped smile indicates that she would much rather be doing anything else. “If you would follow me, sir.” 

He could still make a run for it. Sure, he might have to endure endless teasing and maybe word of this little escapade would reach the ears of the others in the Warrior Unit, to Falco, but the alcohol churning in his system is doing a magic act — look, kids, with just a couple of drinks, watch as I make all my critical thinking skills disappear! —  and Colt is very much aware that he is making a supremely bad decision, but—

—he follows the woman up the stairs, anyway.

“You’ve never been to a brothel before?” The woman asks as she leads him down a dark hallway. There are doors lining the wall, each of them closed. Sometimes, Colt can occasionally hear faint grunts and the sound of skin slapping against skin; the further he follows this woman, the louder the noises get. Or maybe it’s just all in his head. Maybe he’s making up the noises. Maybe they’re sharper, louder, only because he’s accidentally seeking them out.

He hears a scream. 

The woman doesn’t even slow her pace.

“No.” He answers. 

“Well, you chose the right one, at least.” She doesn’t sound like a proud business owner, and considering the circumstances, Colt can’t necessarily fault her for her lack of enthusiasm. “What kind of girls do you like?”

“Huh?” The question catches him off guard. 

“What kind of girls do you like? So that way we can pick the right one for you.” 

Colt doesn’t like the sound of this. He feels dirty, all of a sudden. Like he’s drenched in something filthy, and he needs to go home and shower. The fucking trenches are preferable over this.

She turns around, squinting at him. He can’t tell if it’s because it’s so dark that she can’t see him, or if it’s because she’s scrutinizing him. 

“Nothing coming to mind?” Colt is aware of the clientele that frequents places like these; her clear impatience and almost snappish tone catches him off guard once more. 

“Um, no. I’m not very particular.” An understatement, really. His kind aren’t allowed to be picky. 

She stares at him for a second longer before telling him, “I know a girl for you.” 

She leads him to the last door, knocking three times against it. Nobody answers, but this doesn’t seem to bother her. “Alright, Mr. Not Very Particular. Enter whenever you want, leave whenever you want. Normally, you pay something upfront, and then you stop by the front desk, and depending on how long you stayed, I’ll calculate the rest that you owe, but your friend is covering the cost for you. If I were you, I’d run up his tab.” He thinks she smiles when she says this.

He wants to ask her if Michael gave any particular reason for why he’s paying for a service Colt certainly never asked for, and more importantly, he wants to know why the hell Michael has an open tab at a brothel (freetime off base is usually few and far between, after all). He can’t ask her anything, though, because she’s walking away, probably to go stare into the other soldiers’ souls and ask them what type of women they’re into.

This just leaves Colt, a dark hallway, and the door in front of him. 

Not knowing what waits for him on the other side has never bothered him before. Colt is used to worst-case scenarios — a trait inherited by all Eldians. Optimism is a luxury people like him can’t afford. 

He wants to laugh at the absurdity of it all. He’s a Warrior Candidate — the one set to inherit the Beast Titan after Zeke’s time is up — and he’s being bested by what? A door?

Before he can think too much about it, he straightens his posture, grips the doorknob, and opens the damn door. 

It’s Michael’s money, anyway. 

When Colt was a young boy — so young that Falco couldn’t speak or do much besides staying swaddled in a blanket and pushed around in a stroller — his mother often made him go out for walks.

Keeping all that energy bottled up is no good is what she would tell him, before forcing him to lace up his shoes and walk up and down the cracked sidewalk of their neighborhood for thirty minutes. (It’s not until he’s older that he realizes she really just wanted him out of the house for her own peace and quiet.) 

The internment zone of Liberio could be worse. Even as a child, Colt learns that this is simply the unofficial Eldian motto, the doctrine of their way of life, if you will: it could be worse. 

In school, Colt learns that there are much worse places to be designated, and he should be grateful for the mercy of the Marleyans. The Grice family is at least better off than most; they have their own house, and the Public Security Authorities don’t patrol this area nearly as much as they do other areas in the internment zone. 

Another important lesson he learns young: just because you don’t see that you’re being watched doesn’t mean you aren’t being watched.

Usually, his mom sends him off on errands, especially when he starts to complain that it’s boring just pacing up and down the length of the neighborhood. Today is no different. 

“Go to the market, and get me some tomatoes. I forgot to buy some when we went last week.” Mrs. Grice narrows her eyes at her oldest son. “And no going off course, Colt. Absolutely no detours — to the market and right back home, do you understand?” 

His mom, just like every other Eldian mother, constantly battles with the understanding that their children need to learn how to survive outside the safety of their house and the overwhelming urge to try to shield them from said outside world. There’s always horror stories about what happens to little Eldian boys and girls who stray too far from the safety of their internment zone. 

With one hand shoved in his pocket, fist curled tightly around the money his mother pressed into his palm before sending him off, Colt heads towards the main square where there will be different vendors and stalls selling a variety of goods. Sweets, hardware, clothes, fresh fruit and vegetables; it’s easy to get distracted. The main square is probably the liveliest place in the internment zone, the only other place besides home that Colt assumes nothing bad can happen in. 

The first sign that something is off is when the usual pathway to the main square is eerily quiet. It’s a perfectly beautiful day, with the sun shining and no holiday that would cause the market to be closed down. The further he ventures, the more oddities he takes notice of. 

The blinds are drawn. Laundry that has long dried is still hanging outside, blowing in the wind. There are no children outside playing, and there’s a tiny voice in his head telling him that he should turn around right now. 

The second sign that something is off is when the flutter of curtains pulling back catches his eye. He turns his head and catches sight of an older woman peering at him through the little gap of fabric. She shakes her head slowly — a warning? He tightens his grip on the money in his pocket.

Normally, there are PSA officers patrolling the main square. With so many Eldians gathered in one spot, the officers are taught to think and anticipate the worst. A ruckus, a riot, the seeds of rebellion being planted — anything could happen. Who knows what these monsters are capable of? They couldn’t possibly just be innocently shopping for groceries and treats because there’s nothing innocent about them, period. A tamed dog is still a dog. Dogs bite.

The third sign that something is off is the deserted square. Stalls must have been hastily packed up considering the few remaining items left behind. There are no officers in the square, and Colt knows that something bad has happened. He doesn’t want to believe it at first, but the proof is hanging right in the middle of the square for any passerby to see.

There is a man hanging from the clock tower located in the middle of the square. His head is hanging limp, and Colt almost thinks that he’s dead, that there is a dead body put on display in the town square, but he sees the slight, unmistakable movements of his chest.

It’s even worse — the man is still alive.

He’s horrified. Colt is frozen in fear; somewhere during his assessment of the man, he must’ve gripped the coins in his pocket too hard because when he returns home, there will be an imprint of the currency etched onto the palm of his hand. He inhales, exhales, and is frightened to realize that his breaths are in tandem with the hanging man’s. Will he stop breathing when this man does, too? 

The man’s clothes are dirty, stained with dried blood and tears through the cotton. He’s been beaten before this has happened, no doubt. There’s no other explanation since he’s hanging too high up for anyone to touch him. He’s being held up only by the rope tied against his wrists, wrists with skin that is rubbed raw and red from the roughness of it all. 

There’s writing on the usually pristine brick of the clock tower. Dripping red, too bright to be blood but clearly a derivation of it:

TO LOVE A DEVIL IS TO BE ONE

He examines the man’s entire body, committing it to memory, especially his clothing. Dirty, torn, and tattered. Chunks of fabric ripped and ruined. Trousers, a work shirt, holey socks. The man’s left arm is still covered by the longsleeve of his shirt, but his eyes travel upwards. He blinks, rubs his eyes, and looks again, searching for the gray armband, searching for even a pin in the shape of the nine-pointed star. 

There isn’t any.

Even in death, an Eldian still must wear their armband. With no trace of racial identification, that can only mean one thing:

This man is a Marleyan.

Colt does what he should have done at the first sign of trouble: he runs. He sprints down the empty blocks and refuses to slow down, even as he goes through the neighborhoods closer to his own. There are people outside here, people who don’t know what has happened, and Colt ignores their concerned shouts and sighs of chastisement for running so recklessly down the street. He’s struggling to breathe and his legs burn by the time he barrels through the door of his home, the only safe place for him left, and he heads straight to the bathroom, ignoring his mother’s call of Colt, is that you?  

He throws up in the toilet, and when there is nothing left from breakfast for him to cough up, he starts to dry heave, images of that man, that Marleyan man, constantly flashing through his mind, permanently embedded in his memories. 

He hears the banging on the door, his mother’s worried questions of what’s wrong?, sweetie, are you okay? filtering through the wood of the bathroom door. 

There are fundamental lessons to be learned here. There is no place in Marley that is truly safe. There is nothing anyone living here can do, even if they want to do something. 

There is nothing good that comes from loving an Eldian, from loving someone like him.

“Hi,” there’s a girl in here, wearing a straight white dress — more like a sleeping gown, something long and flowy and a bit transparent — her hair tucked behind her ears and brushed behind her shoulders. She’s looking at him, studying him in a way that makes him subconsciously stand up straighter, like he needs to impress her, and there are a couple thoughts running through his mind right now.

You are a very, very pretty girl. Beautiful, even. He has never seen someone like you before, and he doesn’t think he ever will and,

He is simultaneously too drunk and yet not drunk enough for this encounter.

Another shot and he would have enough drunken confidence to approach you. Right now, he’s had just enough to make his mind go all foggy. What do you say when a beautiful girl tells you hi ? The correct reply is floating somewhere in his head, he knows it, but the answer eludes him at the moment, and all he can really focus on right now is that he is very, very upset with Michael. 

You tilt your head, standing near the bed but not approaching him yet.

“You alright, honey?”

Colt doesn’t normally have trouble speaking to girls. In fact, he’s quite popular back home. His girl cousins always groan during family gatherings, complaining to Colt that it’s so annoying how all their friends want to use them as a means to get closer to him. The attention is flattering, and he’s even flirted with the idea of a romantic relationship once or twice, but he always seems to have something else that he needs to focus on more. 

Focus, Colt. He tries to force himself to come up with something witty and flirtatious. What comes out is a strangled hi. 

He clears his throat, spits out a more coherent hello, and turns redder in the process. 

Smooth. He thinks. Real smooth. 

If you think there’s something seriously wrong with him, you don’t act like it. Instead, you smile at him, something so soft and sweet, and Colt knows for a fact that he’s a dead man. An absolute goner. 

“First time?” You ask, taking in his impossibly straight posture that doesn’t match with his curled hands and flushed cheeks. The uniform gives him away: he’s a soldier. You’re used to soldiers, some of them young and nervous, just wanting to get their first time over with. Those tend to be nice boys. Sometimes, you can even enjoy yourself — not because of their technique (or lack, thereof) — but because kindness is a resource so rarely shared with you, you can’t help but indulge in it when you get it. 

Most of the soldiers that frequent this place are Marleyan. They come here drunk from liquor and look forward to getting intoxicated with power. They’re rougher, meaner, less forgiving. 

You’ve never seen a soldier with a yellow armband before, though. A Warrior Candidate, that’s what he is. You wonder if he’ll be nice. He certainly seems nice. 

“I don’t normally do this stuff.” He blurts out. “Not sex, I’ve had sex.” And then, just for good measure, in case you don’t believe him (you do, of course, believe him; a soldier that looks like him certainly doesn’t have to try hard to find someone to warm his bed), he tells you, “I’m not a virgin, I swear.”

You sure act like one. You find yourself thinking, amused, but not necessarily annoyed. There’s something so earnest about him that you can’t find it in yourself to say something mean. Besides, men who come here aren’t looking for mean women. They’re looking for someone to exert their power over, and they’re looking for a fantasy. You’ve been doing this long enough to know how to fill the role of the woman of their desires. Some men are searching for someone sweet and docile, some are looking for a woman who’s reluctant, someone that they can chase and get to submit. No matter what, though, all of them are looking for prey.

Somehow, the soldier standing in front of you, with his blond hair and perfectly ironed uniform, yellow armband seemingly brightening up this whole room, he doesn’t look like he’s searching for prey. If you didn’t know any better, you would think he’s searching for an exit. 

“I’m not a virgin, either, so I guess that makes two of us.” You take a seat on the bed, patting down the empty space next to you, offering him a seat. He doesn’t take it. You think he’ll come around eventually. 

“I don’t… I don’t go to brothels.” He explains to you, and you nod in understanding. The stressed out soldiers of Marley saying they don’t go to brothels is like listening to an alcoholic tell you that they don’t go to the liquor store. You could try to call him out, but there’s always that little saying: the customer is always right. 

“Well, honey, I think someone must’ve given you the wrong directions because you’re in one right now.” 

“Colt.” He tells you. “My name is Colt.” 

“That’s a nice name.” 

He looks like he’s about to ask for yours, but before he can, you continue talking. “What do you want to do tonight, honey?” 

Honey. He told you his name so you wouldn’t have to call him something so sweet. He’s certain that you already saw his armband, saw him for what he is. The lack of disgust on your end is disarming him. 

“Whatever you want.” 

Idiot. He chastises himself. He’s said so many stupid things, at this point, he can’t even blame it on the alcohol in his system. He’s discovering that he just might actually be stupid. 

You give a little laugh. “You really haven’t been to a brothel before.” You adjust your position on the bed, getting comfortable, angling your body more towards him. “Normally, it’s the other way around. We do whatever you want to do.” 

You don’t sound the least bit upset about it, about the fact that you have to spend every night going through with whatever someone pays for you to do. What must it be like, he wonders. 

“I just want to talk.” 

You smile at him, and he takes a mental image of it, locks it away in his memories. 

“Sure thing, honey. We can talk, but the price remains the same.” 

“My friend has a tab here. He’s, uh, covering it.” 

Great. He inwardly groans. Now she thinks I can’t even afford to be here. 

“Must be a nice friend.”

“He’s not really a friend.” Colt explains. “Coworker is more accurate.”

“So he’s a soldier, too. That makes sense. Not sure where else you could find brothel buddies to go out with.” You don’t normally tease your customers too much. Most of the time, they aren’t here for conversation, and none of them are safe enough to say anything less than forced out praises of yes, you feel so good! to. 

“We’re in different units.”

“So how’d you two meet then?” 

“He’s—” Annoying. Irritating. A pain in the ass. A good guy, when he chooses to be. The nicest Marleyan Colt’s ever met. “—a free spirit. He just roams around, no matter how many times his commanding officer threatens punishment.” 

“He sounds fun.”

“He has his moments.” 

“And what about you? What are some of your shining moments?” 

You can tell a lot about a person by how they present themselves in their stories. If you’re going to ask an arrogant asshole soldier about his shining moments, he’s probably going to spout some nonsense about his (fictional) heroics on the battlefield (he hasn’t even fired a bullet at an enemy soldier before; hasn’t even seen war). Someone insecure struggles to even come up with a story to tell you. The best kind of people, though, tell you—

“On the day my little brother, Falco, got accepted into the Warrior Unit, I cried.” He gives you a sheepish smile and rubs the back of his neck nervously, like he’s embarrassed to admit this. “I was just really proud of him, and I knew how badly he wanted to be there. We had this whole celebration; my mom baked a cake, and my dad splurged on alcohol, and all our neighbors came over, too. It was this whole thing. And, uh, one of our neighbors asked Falco how he feels about being in the Warrior Unit. He announced to the whole party that he felt great about it because all he ever wanted to do was follow in my footsteps. I felt like I was someone for once.” 

—something just like that. 

He seems more relaxed after sharing this with you, and you can see it in the way his brown eyes seem to shine when he mentions his brother, the way he can’t quite seem to contain his pleased smile while reliving the memory, that this soldier isn’t lying to you. 

“What about you?” He suddenly asks. “What’s your shining moment?”

“You think someone like me is capable of having a shining moment?” You play at being coy, but it’s just a means of distracting him. No matter how sweet or nice this golden soldier seems, the last thing you want to do is share your own life with him. There aren’t many things you hold close to your heart, so revealing them makes all the emptiness in you suddenly seem that much more infinite. You don’t want to lie to him, though.

There is enough weakness (kindness) in you to spare to not disrespect his honesty by giving him a false memory. 

“Not only that. I think you star in people’s shining moments, too.” 

Honest. He’s being honest. 

Nobody has ever knocked you off balance like this before. You didn’t even think anyone would ever be capable of doing such a thing. And, the worst part of it all, is the fact that this soldier just throws this out so casually! What kind of person goes to a brothel and starts throwing out genuine compliments to the prostitutes? Someone not right in the head, clearly. 

But the smile on your face is unfairly sincere, and this, you realize with a sense of dread, is going to be one of your shining moments.

“Whoa, what’s the rush, Beast Jr.?” Porco Galliard is sitting on a crate outside the barracks, looking like he has absolutely nowhere to be. Commander Magath always reminds them that there is always something for them to be doing, and if he catches any of them slacking off, he is always willing to give them something to do. Porco received the same warning, same as the rest of the Warrior Unit, but he also thrives on pushing buttons. Colt knows he’s not stupid enough to challenge Commander Magath directly, but he also knows that Porco is arrogant enough to play the dangerous game of trying to see how far he can piss off Magath without getting written up. 

Ever since Colt was given the news of his inheritance of the Beast Titan, he spends more and more time with the current Warriors than the other soldiers, leaving him in a constant struggle to find his footing. The other soldiers already know he’s set up to reach the highest honor an Eldian can ever aspire to achieve, and what’s the point of getting too close to someone who’s only working with a limited lifespan? When he’s with the Warriors, Colt feels even less sure of himself. Zeke occasionally invites him to their meetings, lets him play at having some sort of significance, but Colt isn’t in as deep as the others are. Not yet. 

“What? I’m not rushing,” Colt says, sounding guilty, and exactly like someone who is in a rush. Porco is more observant than people give him credit for, and stubborn (although, people give him credit for being that all the time). 

“No way, you’re definitely in a rush. Where are you running off to?” 

“Don’t you have anything to do? I thought Warriors were supposed to keep busy schedules.” Colt attempts an evasion tactic, dodging Porco’s question and instead, putting the focus on him. Porco doesn’t give in. 

Then again, Colt can’t remember a time where anyone was able to evade the Jaw Titan.

“Now I know for sure that you’re up to something. What could Golden Boy Grice possibly be hiding?” Porco Galliard is dangerous on a good day; a bored Porco Galliard, with nothing but free time on his hands, is downright detrimental. “You startin’ a rebellion?” 

Colt’s eyes widen before he twists his neck, trying to make sure no one is in their vicinity. Even as a passing joke, all it takes is one person to mention this lighthearted jibe, and Colt’s life is over. Not only will he most likely be imprisoned and then publicly executed, but his family will suffer right with him. 

Porco throws his hands up in mock surrender. “Relax. No one’s here. They’re off actually doing their chores.” He seems to consider the situation. “Did you get a girlfriend or something?” 

Does Porco really have nothing better to do? Judging by the wide grin on his face, the answer is a definitive yes.

“Oh, shit! You do have a girlfriend.” He laughs, and Colt isn’t sure if he should be offended. “Look at you go, Grice.”

Porco is still laughing like this is the funniest thing he’s heard all day, but at least he allows Colt to go pass without any more trouble. The only reason he doesn’t bother correcting him, Colt reasons, is because he doesn’t want to explain himself. 

That’s all.

The red light district looks weird in the glow of the afternoon sun. The same dilapidated buildings, with their peeling paint and cracked windows, grimy signs and rusted, metal roofs, don’t look nearly as intimidating as they do in the nighttime. Instead, they just look a bit… sad.  

There are some people outside. Two old men smoking cigarettes outside what Colt assumes is a bar. A drunk man walking in the opposite direction, mumbling something incoherent under his breath, a half empty bottle of clear liquid hanging from his hand. A woman using a broom that’s clearly seen better days to sweep the outside of her own shop. 

The whole area feels like a graveyard for the living.

He feels aware of how he stands out. He stares straight ahead, following the cracked pavement, making his way to the Gentleman’s Club. With his stiff, ironed military uniform, neatly parted hair that’s hidden under his helmet, and hands too clean to have touched anything in this part of town, Colt can’t tell whether he looks like an adversary or a target. His only saving grace, the only thing keeping the half-dead inhabitants of this place away, is the yellow armband twisted tightly around his left bicep. He quickens his pace anyway. 

Already out in the lobby, standing behind a desk, is the same redheaded woman from last night. If she’s surprised to see him here again, she doesn’t show it.

“Back so soon?” She says, forgoing a polite greeting altogether. 

Considering where she is, Colt can’t necessarily fault her for it. Minding his manners (Mrs. Grice did not raise her children in a barn, going against what the Marleyans assume) and military training, Colt removes his helmet. He’s thankful that he has something for his hands to grasp, keeping them occupied. 

“Is—” For as much as he revealed to you, Colt realizes that you didn’t really offer much on yourself . Not even your name. “—the girl I saw last night here?”

“She doesn’t work in the daytime, no.” The woman pulls out a large book, flips through its pages, not bothering to look up at him again until a few more seconds pass. Acting as if she’s shocked to find that he’s still standing there, even though Colt knows she knows that he hasn’t left, she says, “I really don’t think you would be interested in any of our daytime workers, either. Even if you aren’t very particular.” 

“Oh. I see.” Colt, as a matter of fact, does not see. He’s just saying something to fill the awkward silence. 

“As a Warrior Candidate, I assume you have other places to be, Mr. Not Very Particular?” 

Clearly, business is doing well (even though the empty lobby suggests otherwise) since Colt hasn’t met a shop owner who seems quite content with shooing customers out the door. 

“Colt.” He tells her.

“Colt.” She repeats, slowly. “Well, Mr. Colt, my establishment prides itself on its discretion. I’d use an alias next time, if I were you.” 

He doesn’t tell her that he doesn’t plan on there being a “next time.” That would be rude.

“The girl from last night, I wanted to give her this. Would you be willing to hand her these when she comes in?” Digging into his pocket, Colt pulls out a pair of white cotton socks. They’re military issued, and stolen from the inventory warehouse. Colt was put on inventory duty, tasked with handling the shipment of new uniforms and training clothes. For all the heavy lifting he’s had to do, one pair of girl’s socks is a small price to pay. 

The pair you had on last night had been threadbare, at best. Even in the unlikely possibility that Colt gets caught and receives a punishment, knowing you had these for the upcoming winter would have made it well worth the trouble.

“You could always make an appointment and give it to her yourself.” For once, the woman seems like she’s trying to give him a genuine suggestion. 

The thought of doing that sounds nice, and then the feeling of his yellow armband being too tight brings him back down to reality. You didn’t wear an armband. There’s no indication of where you’re from, but you certainly aren’t Eldian. As nice as talking to you was, he’s aware of the fact that you didn’t seem too bothered that he didn’t take a seat next to you. Your reluctance to share anything about yourself speaks volumes. At the end of the day, you’re being paid. You probably only stomached his presence because you needed the money.

Ignoring the twisted, upset feeling in his stomach at these thoughts, Colt tells her,

“I don’t think she would want to see me again.” 

Her eyes linger on his armband, the same piece of fabric tied around herself, too, just a different color. She seems to know what he’s thinking. 

“My girls let me know when they don’t want to see someone again. We wouldn’t be having this conversation if she had an issue with you.” 

“Still, I probably—”

“There’s an opening for tonight at nine. Should I mark you down for that slot, or is there a better time that works for you?” The woman leaves no room for Colt to not make an appointment, and instead, he just lets the woman write down his name in her book. He walks outside with his pockets considerably lighter; the stolen socks are still shoved deep in there, but a majority of his cash now rests in her possession. 

(He had paid her the total amount upfront, as a way to force himself into showing up for the appointment. She had been very adamant that no deposits get returned, and she doesn’t do refunds. Ever.)

“I wish you didn’t have to leave,” Ramzi says, frowning at you as you hold up a handheld mirror, trying to examine your collarbone. There’s a nasty bruise marring your skin, slowly turning into an ugly bluish-purple splotch on your body. There’s no point in trying to apply makeup to conceal it; not only is makeup already too tough to come by, but it would be all for naught. It’ll get rubbed off before the end of your shift, and it’s not like your customers even care.

“I wish I didn’t have to leave, either,” you admit to your little brother, turning to face him. 

“Why do you still have to go when you’re hurt?” 

“It looks worse than it actually is.” You’re not lying. You really only notice the pain when you press down on it.

He’s pouting. A couple of years ago, when you first started, Ramzi used to cry every time you tried to leave. He couldn’t understand why you were gone at night, the only hours where a little brother could really use a sister, someone to protect him from all the scary, imaginary monsters that lurk in the dark. 

He finds out about what you do to ensure he’s taken care of. The first time you get recognized while shopping for food in a public market, Ramzi was clinging to your side, careful not to lose you in the crowd.

“Who’s letting the whores walk out in public?” Someone had shouted. A man. 

You were with that same man two nights ago. 

Someone else in the crowd says, quite loudly, “How shameless! Doesn’t she know there are families trying to enjoy themselves?” 

“Look, the whore has a child herself!” 

Your cheeks had become heated from embarrassment. You couldn’t even look the fruit seller in the eye as you handed him the money to pay. You’re using the money received from the services you gave that man, the one who called you out. 

Only when you two had made it back to the safety of the refugee camp did Ramzi slowly detach himself from your side. He was still just a young child, completely pure, full of innocence, staring at you with his dark eyes wide with wonder.

“Sissy, what’s a whore?”

You want to wash his mouth out with soap. You want to tell him to never say that word ever again. It’s bad enough having to harden your heart and take no offense when men call you it repeatedly, night after night, but you never realized how much it would hurt to have to hear it come out of your little brother’s mouth. 

Instead, you swallow hard, hold back your tears, and pat his head affectionately. “You’ll find out when you’re older, Ramzi. Don’t you waste a single second worrying about that.” 

Ramzi naturally finds out what that word — and all the other degrading insults hurled your way — means. Now that he’s older, he knows better than to repeat any of those words, especially when the two of you are in the safety of your home.

“If I didn’t exist, would you have to do all this?” 

Childhood is nothing more than a pipedream for kids like Ramzi. In a world where only the fittest survive, growing up is imperative. Not only is he old enough to understand, he’s old enough to do his own critical thinking, come to his own conclusions. 

If Ramzi didn’t exist, you would not be doing this. You would be like some of the older women in this camp, the ones who scrape by by doing odd jobs for pitying Eldians and living off the scraps the other refugees provide. You never tell Ramzi this because there’s no point in telling him that. He’s your only real family left. The only person in the world you think you’re capable of loving, completely, honestly, with your entire being. If the universe served you an ultimatum, telling you to be with Ramzi but die a prostitute, or live without him and live a different life altogether, you know you would choose Ramzi, every single time.

“If you didn’t exist, I wouldn’t be here at all.” You tell him. “I wouldn’t have bothered leaving our first home when Marley attacked us. I would have just decided to let the rubble and fire crush me, kill me. And even if I did manage to make it out, I would have died in this refugee camp from loneliness. Don’t ask me something like that again.” You find yourself holding back tears. “You are the reason why I’m alive, Ramzi. Don’t ever assume I regret anything I do in this lifetime, especially if it’s for you.” 

“I’ll pay you back.” He declares, standing up from the pile of blankets he was burrowing himself under. He runs straight to your side, hugging you, burying his face in your shirt. “I’ll find a way to keep us going, and then you won’t have to leave or go back to that place ever again.” 

You hold him tightly, stroking his hair. What a dream that would be. 

Withdrawing from him, taking the walk with the other girls to the brothel, preparing yourself for the night awaiting you — all of it is done with a sad smile on your face as your little brother’s promise plays over and over in your mind the whole time. 

That’s all it is: a dream. 

You think you discover a different plane of existence when you find yourself detaching from the present and use your mind to float yourself to a different time, a different place.

The man’s pace is quick and rushed. He’s just focused on getting off. On the bright side, he’s just here for the sex and not the show. No need to try to get into character, to figure out what personality he wants from you. 

A sex doll would be a good gift for him, you find yourself thinking. A hefty investment, for sure, but think about all the money he’s spending at the brothel. If he calculates his annual payment, the sex doll looks like a steal in comparison.

You ignore his grunts, reducing it to nothing more than white noise. You stare up at the ceiling, wishing you could see the night sky. Stargazing — that’s what you would like to do. If you close your eyes, you can picture the starry night from back home; not Marley, not the refugee camp, but your real home. The one where you grew up. The one destroyed by this man’s people.

You work at night, yes, but you spend all your time stuck in this room, reduced to an object of pleasure. By the time you get off from work and take the long, tiring walk back to the camp, it’s already dawn and the only star in the sky is the rising sun. You miss the little luxuries in life. You miss being able to look up at the night sky freely, counting all those twinkling, shimmery flecks above. You envision a shooting star, and make a childish wish, and somehow, with nothing but stars and silly wishes on your mind, your brain conjures an image of the blond soldier from last night. 

You don’t realize how stiff your body is until you actually find yourself able to relax, to sink into the hard mattress beneath you. With his erratic thrusts, you’re certain that your client is nearly finished. At least he doesn’t have the stamina nor the recovery rate to go for a quick round two. You don’t want to think about the client though, so you take yourself to where you can actually stomach being. To places where you want to go. To see people who you want to see.

The soldier. Why does he keep appearing? It’d be bothersome if you were busy trying to do anything else, but seeing as he’s the only reprieve your mind can come up with, you go with it. 

Besides, there are far worse things and people to think about. At least this one is kind.

Kind, and genuine. And surprisingly soft-spoken. Not in a shy manner of speaking; no, the smooth, deep tone of his voice sounds nice. You can see why he’s in the Warrior Unit. If he really put his mind to it, he could get anyone to do anything with a voice like that alone. A voice of a commander, surely.

Unlike the other soldiers you’ve dealt with, he speaks to you softly. Gently. Like you’re someone to handle softly, gently. 

This is precisely why you try not to coddle the new girls. See what happens when you’re given a little kindness, a little warmth? You start clinging on to it, desperately, hungrily. You crave it, seek it out, search for it everywhere you can, and when you can’t find it anywhere else, you start jumping through hoops, trying to convince yourself that there’s something sweet hiding underneath the cruelty everyone else gives you. 

If one person is capable of being kind, that means everybody in the world is capable of it. And if everyone else chooses to treat you like the scum of the earth, then it’s clear the one person who was nice to you was just an outlier. Or, just a liar. And then you spiral, start to think something is wrong with you, like maybe you’re at fault. Maybe you just didn’t deserve to be treated nicely. Maybe the problem isn’t with other people; the problem is you. 

Before you can drown in your self-loathing any more, the golden memory of the soldier breaks through your thoughts. 

Nothing so bright has ever entered this place until he stepped in your room and stood by the door, a blushing, stammering mess that contradicted his position in this society. 

He just wanted to talk.

Men never want to “just talk.” It always ends up becoming something much more. You think about Malik, who occasionally stops by your tent at the camp to bring you and Ramzi any of the leftovers his family has. Malik, who struggles to be soft because of all his rough edges, a side effect from growing up a child in the middle of a war. Malik, who had tried to kiss you the last time he wanted to talk. He had apologized, even though you found yourself telling him there was nothing to be forgiven for. The kiss could have landed, and you still wouldn’t be able to be upset with him. 

Would that soldier try to kiss you? You think of how he stood by the door the whole night, never leaving his station. He must be a good soldier, you rationalize. He’s probably respected by his peers. Someone his family is proud of. In this line of work, you don’t have to work particularly hard to seduce the men; they all come here out of their own lustful volition. It would honestly be tiring having to lay your charm on the whole time you’re here. 

Did the soldier find you charming? Out of all the personalities you try to emulate for these men, the closest one to your true self had been with him. There wasn’t a need to force out replies you didn’t want to say, no gut feeling arising in your belly, warning you to keep your wits about you because saying the wrong thing in a conversation with a man could be a matter of life and death. No. 

He just wanted to talk.

What if you tried to be more charming next time? Maybe you could let your dress ride up more, reveal to him more slivers of skin. He had been respectful the whole entire night; you don’t think he noticed you noticing him. His eyes never left your face, except to occasionally look down at his hands when he thought he said something stupid. 

(For the record, you didn’t think he said a single stupid thing once.)

You come back down to reality as the man is pulling out of you. He tosses the used contraceptive in the trash bin and is zipping up his pants. He doesn’t look you in the eye as he slaps down a few crumpled bills on the nightstand. Willa may take a portion of the total payment, but all tips go directly to you. 

You don’t thank him as he’s on the way out. Does garbage ever show gratitude when you toss it to the side? 

Willa makes a point of trying to schedule appointments in a way that ensures each girl gets at least ten minutes to herself between clients. A brief reprieve, a chance to recollect, to build yourself back up again right before someone else walks in to destroy you. 

In the silence and darkness of the room, you toss aside any what-if scenarios between you and the soldier. He’s likely never going to return. There’s no point in fantasizing about a “next time,” because it’s never going to happen. 

You feel empty, devoid of emotion, cold, when the door opens again. You look up at your newest customer, ready to work out what show to put on for him when you feel life flooding back into your body, shocking your system.

Closing the door gently (as opposed to the carless slams most customers do) is the soldier. The same soldier from last night. His golden hair and his sunny smile and the bright armband flaunting his status. 

“Hi,” he says, standing by the closed door, the same exact spot he was in last time. 

It really is him.

“Hi,” you say back, too stunned to come up with anything clever or fascinating or charming. 

He came back! 

“Conversation must be pretty poor in the military if you’re coming back to little old me for a chat.” You recover quickly, smoothing down your dress, wondering if your hair is a mess. 

He cracks a smile at that. “Well, you’re certainly more fun to talk to than half my bunkmates, I’ll give you that. But no, I actually came here to bring you something.” 

“You brought me a gift?” Sometimes, clients bring their favorite girls gifts. You’ve received things like lacy undergarments, tiny bottles of perfume, things that would make their visit more pleasurable. You don’t see any shopping bags or wrapped boxes in his hand, and you wonder if he’s pulling some cruel joke on you. Like, surprise! You really thought I would get someone like you a present? 

“Wait! Don’t get too excited. It’s not really much, but…” He digs into his pocket before pulling out a pair of bright white socks. He hesitates for a second, as if he’s thinking about what to do, and then he’s making his way to you, standing in front of you. He still has to stretch his arm out to hand you the socks, making sure to leave what he must consider to be a respectful amount of space between you two. 

“Wow.” You breathe out, examining the gift. The cotton is soft, thick. It’s so bright and fresh and clean, you almost cringe at the thought of stepping on these floors with them on. They would be covered in a layer of dirt and grime within seconds. It feels expensive. It feels a lot nicer than any other article of clothes you’ve received since seeking refuge in Marley. It feels too good to be true. 

No one gives you something for free. When you remember this lesson, you look up, only to realize that he’s returned back to his spot by the door. 

“Like I said, it’s not—”

“Thank you.” You suddenly feel shy, holding on tightly to the bundle of cotton. “Thank you, truly. I really don’t know how to repay you.”

“Don’t worry about it.” In the dim light of the room, you can see his face and ears turning a faint shade of pink. There’s a pleased smile on his face, and it makes your face feel warm. 

“So, you spend money just to stand by the door all night and make conversation with me, and then you bring me very nice gifts, too. Honey, I don’t think you understand how brothels work.” 

“Colt.” He says, in that soft, patient manner of his. There’s a hidden request there; not a demand, but a plea. If he asked you for anything else, you would eagerly give it to him. If he took you right then and there, you would be a very willing participant indeed. 

But he’s not asking for sex, he’s asking for something more intimate. 

He wants you to call him by his name. 

You can’t do that. It’s too personal, it’ll blur even more boundaries. 

“Don’t tell me you really think I’d forget.” You say this instead, trying to subtly avoid the situation at hand. “I couldn’t forget even if all the other customers paid me to.” 

“What do you call them? Your other customers.” There’s no malice in his question, no envy; just pure curiosity. Hearing someone want to know more about you is a foreign interaction. You don’t think you’ve ever been asked a genuine, normal question in years. 

Honey. It’s simple. It’s basic. It’s impersonal. Sweetheart, depending on what character you’re trying to perform as. Baby, on occasion. 

“Silly things.” You tell him. It’s the truth. 

“But the same things?” He asks, and you nod.

“I don’t want to call you the same things, though.” The socks feel warm in your hands, and there’s a tiny voice in your head screaming at you for being so damn truthful, for not keeping your mouth shut. Why is it that the things you want to say and the things you should tell him are the exact same thing? It’s oddly nice, being able to speak your mind and have someone actually want to hear what you have to say; even better to have it be the right thing to say. “What do you think, soldier? No more calling you ‘honey.’” 

He opens his mouth, closes it, tries to say something, then thinks better of it. Finally, he lands on, “Whatever you want to do.” 

Whatever you want to do. Last night, he told you whatever you want. 

For the hour he’s here, you can try on a new role. A girl who wants. A girl who is allowed to want. This girl — you — decides that he doesn’t even need to fulfill any wishes. Wanting is enough; for you, it’s enough. 

You get comfortable on the bed, casually pulling back your hair and letting it lay behind your shoulders, against your back. With no hair to block it and the low neckline of your dress, your collarbone is on display. You momentarily forget about the ugly bruise, and you don’t notice the way his eyes flicker downwards, seeing it. Instead, you’re happy to start interrogating him.

“What’s it like, being a soldier? I heard the yellow means you’re a special one, right? A Warrior.” 

“Being a soldier is an opportunity I’m happy to have.” He answers carefully, trying not to sound ungrateful. There’s no way his family would have been able to afford the tuition for medical school so he could be a doctor. He didn’t want to be a shop owner, either. Career options for young Eldian men are limited. Enlist, or starve. “The yellow band means I’m in the Warrior Unit, but I’m not a Warrior yet.” 

“You’re still in training?” 

“Something like that, yes. But I have to wait until the other Warrior’s term is over before I can take his spot.” 

“You’ll be able to shift into a special Titan then?” 

Colt searches for the malice, the fear, the disgust. He only hears your curiosity. 

“I’m set to inherit the Beast Titan.” 

He finds himself standing up straighter, almost puffing out his chest in pride at the way your eyes go wide with awe. 

“That must be the best one.” 

“What makes you say that? The name?” Having the moniker of Beast just makes him feel even more inhumane, but titans aren’t necessarily humans, right? No point in trying to disguise the truth as anything but. 

“No. You just seem like you’re the best soldier, so I assumed they would reserve the best Titan for you.” 

Devil, monster, savage — whatever he is, he finds himself not caring. The warm feeling taking root in his chest, spreading throughout his body as a result of your words, makes him feel incredibly human. 

“Yo, Grice! Isn’t this insane?” Michael slaps Colt on the back, ignoring the way Porco raises an eyebrow at the interaction. 

“Shouldn’t you be with your unit?” Colt asks him. 

“Nah. They don’t really care—” 

“Lieutenant Sells, why the hell are you over there conversing with the Warrior Unit when I know damn well you popped out your mother a full-blooded Marleyan boy!” 

The commanding officer for Michael’s all-Marleyan unit is red in the face with an angry vein protruding from his forehead. Michael seems entirely unfazed by the whole thing.

“I think your CO is calling for you,” Porco says. 

“Huh. Was that him calling, or just the sound of flies buzzing?” Before Michael can look too pleased at his comment, his CO is screaming for him once more.

“Lieutenant Sells, every second it takes you to come back here and get in formation, is one lap you’re doing around the whole damn camp! I am not in the mood for your little games right now, Lieutenant!” 

With his smile wiped off his face, Michael shoots them a look that says something along the lines of save me, before jogging back to his actual unit. The whole entire time, he’s being berated by his commanding officer. 

“You keep interesting company.” Porco comments. “Hope your girlfriend is at least more sane.” 

That’ll be tough, Colt thinks, considering his “girlfriend” doesn’t exist.

When war isn’t active, the Marleyan military grows restless. When Marleyans are bored, things are bound to go from bad to worse for any Eldians in their vicinity. Today’s scheme that they cooked up involves an all-unit showdown. Physical sparring, no weapons, between soldiers from all the different units. 

No weapons, no maiming, no killing. Those are the rules. 

The unspoken rule, of course, is that any serious punch dealt by an Eldian that lands on a Marleyan is sure to result in some awful punishment, ranging from toilet-cleaning duty to having a finger chopped off. Pity. Colt foolishly woke up this morning thinking he was going to have a good day. 

He ends up getting paired with a burly Marleyan boy. He’s around the same height as Colt, but where Colt is lean, this boy is bulky. His muscles practically cause his uniform to burst at the seams. 

The officers are making a whole day out of this, too. Too much free-time. Why let their soldiers rest or train in peace when they can gather them all up and publicly humiliate the Eldians? Yeah, because that schtick never seems to get old.

Commander Magath looks at Colt before sending him off to get his ass beat. It’s the same look Colt imagines a butcher gives a cow before killing it. For an animal, you weren’t too bad. Sorry things had to be like this. Not really, though.

“Whatever you do, don’t take that shit lying down.” Porco had muttered into his ear. 

Colt isn’t like Porco, though. Things will only be worse for him if he does put up a good fight, and, unlike Porco, Colt is capable of possessing rational thought and the ability to put his ego to the side. He only hopes that Falco and Gabi will close their eyes. 

“Shake hands,” the Marleyan commanding officer commands them. It’s a show of camaraderie. That this is just all in good fun. A way for all the units to bond! Colt’s not sure who’s falling for that lip service. 

Like the good sport, the good soldier, he is, Colt extends his hand. The only show of defiance he will allow himself, he decides, is to not wince in pain as the Marleyan soldier crushes his hand. Colt smiles, which seems to only piss the guy off even more. 

Thanks a lot, Porco. I tried not to take this shit lying down, and now you’re going to have to lay me in a grave. Tell Falco I love him. Colt thinks miserably.

“Remember, boys: no weapons, no maiming, and no killing. Try your hardest to follow these rules. First one down for ten seconds, loses. On the sound of the pistol.” 

Once the pistol fires, Colt narrowly dodges the boy’s attack. With his build, it’s easier for Colt to move quickly, more fluidly. If he can just continuously keep dodging the boy’s hulking arms and certain death grip, Colt figures he’ll be safe. If it comes down to a battle of stamina, he knows he’ll win. 

“Come on, Colt! You can do this!” Colt makes the mistake of trying to search for Falco, trying to pinpoint his voice through the crowd. This is the last thing he wanted! Why is Falco watching this? Why did Porco not grant him a small mercy and force his brother to close his eyes. 

One second, he’s looking for Falco. The next, he’s getting punched right on his left cheek. 

Fuck.

He staggers, loses his footing. He reflexively touches his face, already feeling the sting of the punch. He tries to avoid the boy’s next attack but moves too slow.

Fuck.

There goes his right cheek. At least he didn’t lose any teeth.

Colt says a quick prayer to any benevolent god listening. 

Please don’t let him land a punch on my mouth. Please let me keep all my teeth. 

He can feel his training kicking in. He digs his feet into the ground, subconsciously getting back into a proper fighting stance. He feels how naturally his hands ball into a fist. Even with his head ringing, his vision a bit dizzy from getting knocked around, Colt can still calculate the perfect time to go on the offense and throw his own punch.

Don’t take that shit lying down.  

And right before the perfect opportunity to strike comes, Colt thinks of you.

You just seem like you’re the best soldier, so I assumed they would reserve the best Titan for you.

There’s more at risk here than just a banged up face and ruined dignity. He has a good thing going. He’ll be the Beast Titan and pay his reparations for being born by fighting for people who don’t even care about him. No time for a traditional midlife crisis, at least, seeing as how he’s most likely not going to live to see his thirties. 

The fist he makes uncurls. The moment of opportunity passes. The last thing Colt thinks about is the bruise on your skin. He hopes that you make it to your thirties. He hopes you live a nice, long life. If anyone deserves it, it’s you.

When he gets knocked down, he doesn’t bother trying to get up. The ringing in his ears intensifies, and cutting through the noise are Falco’s and Gabi’s screams. Has it been ten seconds yet? Colt looks up at the sky. It’s a cloudless day. Nothing but sunshine and blue skies. 

Yeah. Usually the most beautiful days are the worst for him. 

Blocking his view of the sky is the Marleyan boy, his face contorted with contempt. Colt tries to think of the boy’s name, searches through his mind and looks for a time where they interacted. He comes up blank, and he doesn’t think it’s because of the mild concussion forming, either. They don’t even know each other.

Just knock me out, already. Colt wants to groan out. Hell, take a tooth if it’ll end this thing.

He catches a glimpse of something shiny, reflective. The sun? No. This is silver.

A blade. 

Didn’t they say no weapons? Why isn’t the match over yet? It’s definitely been ten seconds.

He fills the coldness, the sharpness, of a knife’s tip pressed against the flesh of his face. 

He should fight back. He should get up, take the knife for himself, and show this boy what a real fight looks like. 

No. He wouldn’t take the knife. The rules clearly stated “no weapons.” That wouldn’t be fair, it wouldn’t be right. 

“THAT’S ENOUGH!” A voice shouts, and maybe he’s hallucinating because in what world is Commander Magath the one who looks out for him? Then again, it’s probably going to be tough replacing the future Beast Titan. Zeke likes him, too, which has to mean something. 

There’s a lot of murmurs from the crowd, and Colt strains to listen to what they’re saying. He thinks he hears fabric tearing as a blurry Marleyan soldier is being pulled off of him. 

Then, the world goes black.

“Ugh, you.”

When Colt regains consciousness, he realizes he’s been transferred to the infirmary. The cot he’s laying on is cold, and he looks down. He’s shirtless. He doesn’t know why he suddenly feels so shy when he turns his head and sees that the nurse is female.

Most of the nurses assigned to the Warrior Unit are women. This fact has never bothered him before, has never even properly registered in his mind before, but the stark white of their uniforms reminds him too much of the soft white of your dress.

The only nurse present isn’t speaking to him. She has her back turned, hands on her hips, talking to whoever pulled back the curtain. 

“You’re so mean. Geez, I thought nurses were supposed to have empathy.” 

Michael. 

Colt can never seem to catch a break.

“If you want empathy, go get treatment from your own unit’s nurses. People who want proper treatment go to me.”

“Okay, we all know why you took this job in the first place. Don’t start with me, Claire—”

“I know you aren’t taking that tone with me right now. Who do you want me to get: your CO or your mom? Hurry up, and pick before I call them both.” 

“C’mon, Claire!” Michael whines. “Let me in! He’s my friend.” 

Claire turns around, squinting at Colt, who decides to feign sleep at the last minute.

“I know you’re awake.” She says. He opens his eyes. 

At least she’s nicer to him than she is to Michael. “Do you know this boy?” She points to Michael, who looks too cheerful considering his conversation with Claire. 

“‘Course he knows me! That’s my brother! It should be obvious. We look just alike, don’t we?” He knows it’s just a joke, but all things considered, the resemblance is somewhat striking. The same shade of blond, same build; the only difference is the eyes. Michael’s are a dark blue. “I clearly got the good genes, though. Ma says he looks more like the milkman than pa, but don’t tell him I said that.” Michael winks at Colt. 

Nobody laughs.

“Michael, you really shouldn’t be here. This is a Warrior Unit designated area of the base. I’m being serious.” 

“But he’s my friend.” Michael tells her this, but she shoots him a look that says yeah, right. Colt wants to tell Michael to be careful, to not just go around spouting nonsense like that, but the nurse seems used to the meaningless drivel that comes out of Michael’s mouth. 

“Is that thing really your friend?” Colt’s shocked when he realizes she’s speaking to him, pointing at Michael, indicating that it’s Michael that’s “that thing.”

“Yes.” Colt says, realizing with a sinking feeling that it’s the truth. The feeling only gets worse when he sees Michael doing a fist pump.

“Oh my gosh. Your concussion must be even worse than I thought.” Claire gasps. “It’s okay. Whatever’s wrong with you that is making you keep him for company, I’ll fix it. Don’t you worry.” 

“Are you even certified?” Michael snaps. 

The scathing look she gives Michael would be enough to knock out Colt. Michael’s tougher than he looks.

“I need to go to the supply closet and get some more things since someone decided to get cut and made me use all our bandages trying to patch him up.” Claire announces. “You two — behave.”

Colt presses his fingers to his face and feels only one big bandage stuck on his forehead. 

“Finally the Wicked Witch is gone.” Michael mutters, before turning his head sharply, almost as if afraid she’s secretly eavesdropping. He relaxes when she doesn’t jump up behind the curtain to put him in a chokehold. “Anyway, how ya feeling?”

“Like I just got publicly beaten. Oh, wait.” 

Michael laughs. “Yeah? Don’t worry, he’ll get what’s coming to him.” 

Colt doesn’t necessarily like the sound of that, but who is he to get onto Michael? 

Michael tosses two strips of yellow fabric onto Colt’s chest. So, he wasn’t imagining the sound of fabric tearing, then. His armband is ruined. He’ll have to get a new one once he’s released. 

“His knife accidentally nicked your sleeve when we were trying to yank him away from you. Figured you would miss it, so I snatched it up.” 

“Thanks.” 

“No need for all that. You’re gonna make it seem like I’m a good guy, or something. We’re friends, anyway. If you ever need anything, just ask.”

“Bruise ointment.” Recovering from a mild concussion must have caused more brain damage than he thought possible because Colt knows it’s poor manners to start making requests. Especially to someone who doesn’t have to worry about getting his armband ripped off. 

“If you’re worried about your busted up face, don’t. I heard girls go for guys with rugged good looks. The black and blue really brings out the color of your eyes.” 

Before Colt can apologize for his abruptness, though, Michael strolls to the cabinets and starts opening up drawers at random. “But since we’re best friends—” He waits for Colt’s correction that never comes. “—I guess I’ll do you a solid.” 

Colt gets permission to leave the infirmary before dinner is served in the mess hall. He only stops by the Magath’s office to receive a new armband before heading to the front gates to sign out. 

He’s got one hour’s worth of your time in money in his left pocket, and a bottle of bruise ointment in his right. He hopes you’re free.

Three soft taps against the door have you looking up. You don’t dare to hope that the soldier is visiting you, for the third time this week — in a row, no less! — but the more time he spends with you, the stronger the urge to dream gets. 

You smile when you see that it’s him, and it immediately fades when you take a closer look. This time, you’re the one standing up, quick to approach him.

“Oh my— What happened?” Your arm comes up, ready to reach for his face, to examine his bruised face even closer, but you quickly snap it back to your side. He hasn’t tried to touch you in the two times you’ve met. Maybe he has an aversion to being touched. You reluctantly take a step back.

(Colt flinches. You chalk it up to pain; he thinks he must look pretty disgusting right now, horrific even, to have you scared to be near him.)

“Don’t worry. It looks worse than it actually is.”

You frown. It causes the most adorable crease between your brows. Yet another image to store away in his memories. 

“Actually, I just wanted to come by to bring you something.”

“No. You don’t have to buy me gifts. Please—”

“I don’t mind. I enjoy giving them to you.” Not to mention that they’re technically stolen , not bought, but the Marleyan government can afford it. If his face is going to get banged up, one tube of ointment should be fair compensation. He places it in your waiting hands, the tips of his fingers brushing against the palms of your hands.

Electrifying. 

“This is…” You read the label. 

“Helps with bruises. Fades them, strengthens the skin, helps with a quicker recovery. I figured it would be something you would like.” The more he rambles, the more he thinks that maybe this was a mistake. It’s his face, isn’t it? He should have waited for the swelling to go down, for the bruises to heal up on their own, before showing up here. He probably looks more beast than human right now. 

“Come lay down on the bed.” You say, and then, minding your manners, “Please.”

His brain short circuits. The concussion surely doesn’t help. You look up at him, doe-eyed and too pretty to be real, too pretty for his imagination to come up with, and you ask him again. “Please?”

Whatever you want — that’s what he told you.

Like a good soldier, he obeys the order given. He’s too tall — perhaps the bed too small — so he has to awkwardly maneuver his body on the stiff mattress. His feet are dangling on the edge, and there’s barely any room for you to sit on the mattress. Your body is pressed against his own, the two of you swapping warmth with each other. 

You untwist the cap of the tube, applying a small amount of ointment on the tip of your finger before pressing the same finger to the bruised part of his face. 

“Is this okay?” You whisper to him. 

Your touch is gentle, soft, comforting. Far nicer than he deserves. The nicest he’s even been treated, he thinks. This is better than okay, better than great. 

He feels his eyelids drooping before he gives in and shuts his eyes altogether. “Yes.” He breathes out. 

You apply the ointment everywhere, slowly, carefully, trying not to apply too much pressure out of fear of sending a shock of pain to him. His breathing gradually evens out. 

“All done.” You say it so quietly, it’s almost undetectable. He doesn’t do anything in response, and you realize that he must have fallen asleep. 

You take the time to admire his face. He’s got a bandage on his forehead, a tiny, red line peeking out that indicates this cut was much longer than what one bandage could cover up. There are two different bruises forming on each of his cheeks, making your own look like a poor imitation of what a bruise should look like. You don’t know what possesses you to take your hand and run your fingers through his hair. It’s coarser than it looks, remnants of hair gel still stuck on some strands. Your soldier looks worse for wear, and obviously he’s exhausted. 

So why did he go out of his way to bring you this ointment? You touch your own bruise, tracing the shape of it. He must’ve seen it. He didn’t ask questions, and that’s fine, because you probably wouldn’t have given him an answer, anyway. He must have known you wouldn’t say anything. 

You know he walked here, too. It’s not a short trip from the military base to this side of town, nor is it an easy journey, either. 

You continue to play with his hair, feeling your eyes get wet the longer you stare at him. What is the matter with him? Why does he do this? Why do you have to beg him to come to bed? Why does he take the trip to see you, spends money, brings you little things that no one else would think to get you, just to get nothing in return? It would be easier to know what to do with him if he were like any other man. Why won’t he ask you for something, anything? 

“Oh, Colt.” You whisper. Your thumb brushes against the bandage on his forehead. When he wakes up, you wonder if you’ll muster up the courage to ask him what happened. 

His eyes flutter open, looking dazed at first until his vision becomes clear. There’s a small smile on his face. 

“Is this a dream?” He asks, voice sounding scratchy, like the words are scraping against his throat. 

“No, not a dream, soldier. Go back to sleep.” 

“Huh. But I thought I heard my name.” He mutters. He blinks. His body is telling him to go back into his peaceful slumber, but maybe the time he spends with Porco is making his traits rub off onto him. Colt finds enough stubbornness to fight his own body to stay awake. “Prove to me this isn’t a dream.” 

How can someone look so confident, so strong, when they’re lying on a cheap bed, bruised and tired? How can someone look so handsome, despite it all? 

You think you’re going to do something dangerous. You just have to summon the courage to do so. One look at the hopeful expression on your soldier’s bruised face, and you know that if he can brave whatever happened to him, you can finally just give in.

“It’s not a dream, Colt.” 

He has to be dreaming, he decides. His name has never sounded sweeter. 

You lean down, your face just centimeters from his own. Your lips, so close to his ear. He’s dreaming, he’s dreaming, he’s dreaming — he doesn’t ever want to wake up. To whichever higher power is listening, please don’t let him wake up.

“If this was a dream, I wouldn’t be able to tell you this.” 

You whisper your name into his ear, and he is aware that this is not a dream. This is real life. This is you, so close to him, telling him your name. He greedily snatches it up, repeats your name over and over in his mind. Then, with his eyes closing, quickly giving in to his exhaustion, he says your name.

He’s out cold.

a/n: if you made it this far, thank you!!! a like and even just a simple comment would really make my day, but i know colt grice only has 2 fans (me being one of them), so i'm not expecting much. if you read precipice, you will look back on this fic and go "oh my gosh, it's a cameo from one of my favorite characters!!!" bc nothing screams self-indulgent fan fiction more than creating ur own lil universe within canon, with ur equally delusional friend <3