#despite that you would think he has other priorities (women)

[daydreamerdrew]

Iron Man (1968) #62

[merlinssassybeard]

'Ex' husband Gojo - You and I

Part 1

Tags- Gojo x fem reader, angst, self depreciation/suicidal stuff, miscarriage centered chapter

Synopsis- a look at both of their POVs, the aftermath a month later.

Satoru is devastated but so are you but worse...

22nd October, 2016...

22nd October of 2016 was when it happened. The Legal Separation between you and Satoru Gojo.

Fortunately or not but the whole fiasco never went outside the borders of The Gojo Estate, despite it involving a few 'third parties'.

Luckily, the servants of the house were on a week off or else by now you and Satoru would have become the new gossip of the town no doubt.

Mr Ijichi, an assistant director at the Jujutsu High and a very close and trusted accomplice of your husband... or ex husband, you can't decide.

He is probably the only person who knows about it, not in detail of course since Satoru is very specific on who he wants to be close with but yes, you suspect Mr Ijichi is a bit aware of what went down because he was the one driving the car on that day.

You also suspected at first that maybe Ms Shoko is also in light of the events because she is definitely someone who gets her information one way or the other and the fact Satoru might have... no! He has infact told Shoko about all of it.

When Satoru introduced you to the World of Jujutsu Society, Ms Shoko was the first he got you to meet with and since you have had good relationship with her.

Since your legal separation happened, Shoko and Ijichi have been a mediator, set up by Gojo, for communication since, you know it and so does everybody who knows Gojo Satoru, he's too prideful to go back wagging his tail where he's not needed. Or so he thinks.

Satoru thinks because of his work schedules, he is not able to spend time with you as your husband and not able give you the life you hoped for which definitely affected your mental health (as predicted by his six eyes) and thus you decided for a divorce.

But the new information that he got on that day from you made him realize maybe he was indeed wrong thinking that you are perhaps different from other women who only fell for the looks but mostly for the money and the status of the Gojo family in general.

He never had plans to marry in the Jujutsu Society or The human World (haha as if!) be it arranged or love. He did not care. He had plans to become the wise Sage or a Monk of wisdom, a teacher/mentor like in video games. But all of it changed when he met you, a simple average human.

You were the one who taught Satoru so much. You were the one made him realize that even the strongest sorcerer has a soft heart that has the capability of falling in love.

But what made him solidify his love, making him realize that yes he has fallen in love and he is glad it is you was when you (unknowing about his past with the incident with Riko and Toji) made him realize the fact that all humans are not same.

This was the last and final straw that made the fall for you really bad and sick. He wanted to marry you. But he never said it out loud because of the repercussions you would have to go through and that is why he protested as well when you brought up the topic of marriage.

But none of it matters

None of it

Not anymore

He is done

All humans are the same.

Greed

Lust

Money

Fame

Power

All humans are indeed the same...

Satoru has no interest in any sort of relationships anymore. Everything feels sour and bitter. All he knows now is his role. His role as the strongest sorcerer, a responsible mentor, as the Head of his Clan, Face of the Jujutsu Society altogether. These are his priorities.

Gojo would very much prefer a permanent sort of freedom from you now knowing your true face.

'Ugh awful, so disgusting. A whore? Really? Is that all you thought of yourself y/n when you voluntarily got physical with me before marriage?', he said to himself in his head.

The only reason Gojo sent Separation papers instead of divorce was because it would startle both of yours and his families. The society isn't kind to divorced women and that too the ex wife of the six eyes sorcerer. Oh what a wonderful way to make him vulnerable for the curses and curse users!

He can say whatever he want against you but somewhere, inside that beautiful big and kind heart of his, he wants to talk to you, talk things out, talk about your feelings and wants to listen. But his mind refuses to let down his walls, ever gain!

Days following the 22nd October, you mostly stayed locked up in your room while Mr Ijichi packed all of your husband's clothing and accessories.

Mr Ijichi isn't stupid, he knew it must be really hard for you that is why he tried his best to enter, collect the things and exit as quietly as he could.

'A whore? Why did you even say that you bitch. You really don't deserve ANYTHING in this world!', your days began with endless self loathing.

5th December, 2016

A lot happened in the month following the incident.

Most of your days were spent in self loathing because after your miscarriage at just 3 months, the doctor had declared that you're (uterus) not strong enough to carry a child.

These words are something a woman is most scared to ever hear in her life. And you were one of the unfortunates.

You had stopped taking your post miscarriage medications. You're mental health got worse as well due to continuous thoughts on how you acted up on impulses and ruined the only good thing you had. Days followed you couldn't even get the strength to get up from the bed every morning. Fading appetite lead to refusing food which further resulted to visible sunken cheeks.

The house staff didn't knew anything that took place during their week off and they had noticed changes around the household. From your behavior to the absence of the Head of the house. They were also worried for your health and didn't knew what to do.

The head of staff, Mr Kawaguchi, decided to make a call to the Master of the house since it is normal for him to be absent from the house due to his work.

Kawaguchi- Good morning Satoru sama. This is Kawaguchi from the house.

Gojo (a little annoyed)- I'm busy, call me later.

Kawaguchi- Sir actually there's a grave problem at the house.

Gojo (mockingly)- what? Did someone die or something? This better be important-

Kawaguchi- sir its Y/n sama. Y/n sama is not in good health.

Gojo (worried)- w- what?! What're you stupids doing? What happened to y/n? Is she okay? What did the doctors say?

Kawaguchi- uh about that sir... y/n sama didn't let us into her room and actually we had to... (nervously looks back at the the other staff, everyone nods)

Gojo- huh?

Kawaguchi- sir, we had to break into y/n sama's room. We have called the doctors and they'll-

Gojo- break into the room!? What is hap- Nevermind, I'm sending someone. You lot stay there and look after y/n till the docs arrive!

Kawaguchi- y- yes sir!

Gojo was now left worried at what the hell did he just hear on the call. 'What are you upto now y/n'. Is this some trick to bring him back out of pity and pretend nothing happened? That you, a month ago, didn't just randomly demand for a Divorce.

He was really annoyed and even if he wanted to go to the house he couldn't due to being out abroad for missions. He has been busy with overseas missions mostly after the separation.

He decided to send Shoko for a look and to inform him 'EVERY SINGLE DETAIL', verbatim.

Shoko was sitting at the morgue, smoking, when she received a call from Gojo.

'Ha? Gojo? At this hour?', she wondered.

"Yea?", Shoko said with her usual nonchalant voice.

"I need a favor"

Gojo explained her the situation to which she agreed without hesitant, knowing what has been going on between you two and now this.

When she arrived at the Gojo Estate, she was welcomed by the worried faces of the staff that guided her to your room.

She started observing every detail. She saw the entrance door, broken. The inside of the master bedroom, dim, even with long sliding doors facing the beautiful and bright gardens. There were half eaten bowls of food. A trolley with clothes overflowing.

Shoko turned to looked at you and felt her heart wrench a little at the sight of you. She was horrified and worried. She is usually a very calm and relaxed person but you, you really made her loose her calm.

She knows you and has seen you in your good days. In light yellow summer dress beside Gojo, all smiles to now? Like this. Dark circles umder eyes and slight sunken cheeks, chipped lips and several medications.... wait what medications?

There were already a doctor present in the room who declared that its just dehydration and that it'll be okay with a few medicines.

The servants thanked the doctor and ordered the medicines.

Meanwhile, Shoko was already in a shock. The medicines piled up beside you on the bed and the bedside table were... post miscarriage pills. She enquired the whole situation from the staff.

All while, the two women staff got you up in the bed and gave you water.

Eyes half open, you recognised what was happening. You passed out of dehydration and couldn't hear the knocks of the servants outside for breakfast. They were worried and tried the other doors, through the garden, but they were locked. So they broke the entrance and found still in the bed with pills surrounding you. They all got worried and one called the doctor and the head called Gojo.

Shoko noticed you were up and ordered the ladies to open the curtains and windows and leave her for a while. Afterall she's got some questioning to do in Gojo's behalf.

She extended her hand to hold your left hand. It seemed cold to touch. "Hello y/n. Remember me?"

You struggled to open your eyes and look.

"Don't worry i won't ask you how you're doing", she joked.

"But i will ask about the medications y/n. Do not lie. I'm a doctor too", Shoko knew now is not the time but she also knew that if you were pregnant then why didn't you tell Gojo because he obviously didn't know.

Your ears started ringing. And eyes welled up. You were reminded of it again. You wanted to just lay back down and bury yourself in the warmth of the blankets.

But the cat was out of the bag. Shoko is a doctor. She knows medicines. You cannot lie. You cannot hide. You have to be strong, you have to show her that everything is okay and Satoru needn't be worried, not like as if he is anyway.

"Please.", you mumbled, she had leaned in and caressed your knuckles. "Shoko, do not let anyone know of this, i beg of you."

"Shhh", she shushed you, "Don't say that. I won't. I promise"

She continued, "... but what about Satoru? You can't hide it from him. The child was his as much as it was yours-"

You cut her in, "Shoko i wanted to tell him! I wanted him and only HIM to be the first to get the news of the...", you struggled but continued, "...of the pregnancy. I got to know myself in the 2nd month and he was coming back home just next month, it was all perfectly going... until it wasn't".

Shoko was visibly upset. She didn't knew what to say. All she was aware of was the things Gojo told her...

He went home with gifts and souvenirs for you, you gave him divorce papers, he tried convince you not to, you weren't ready to listen, you said some hurtful things, he realised his place and agreed for separation over divorce.

Looking at you she can tell you would breakdown any moment.

And she was right.

You did.

You broke down in tears.

Hyperventilating you mumbled, "Shoko they said i can't have children! Can you believe that! I can't have kids! And I'm so stupid i brought out a f-fucking Divorce paper when Satoru came home."

"He was so angry with me i could feel it even if he wasn't! I'm stuck Shoko! I-i just - just want to go hide under a rock or maybe i should just kill mys-"

Shoko pulled you in for a hug. "Ah! Thats enough. That's enough. Shush now. Its okay."

"I won't tell Satoru, don't worry"

Series masterlist

Tags:

@autumn-slaves @wondermilka @hh0pe @chayunwoo @Enaaneaen @sweet-almonds @sindela @dazai-gojo-kinnie @whats-humanity-lol @thewickedofrizz @phantasmia @ghostllyyz @yihona-san06 @aesonsgirl @direwolf-5 @fairyyxsp @puroganggang @altyx @dianagracesworld @hermitkerm @leonesimp @minnerra @whitelittlebunny @letharue

[amakumos]

twizzle into my heart — nishimura riki

synopsis. Falling in love when your sport is your top priority is hard, and nobody knows this better than you and Nishimura Riki. You two tried to make it work, but things didn't end up like you both wanted it to. But, when you and Riki cross paths again 4 years later at 4 Continents, old feelings resurface, and you find that Nishimura Riki comes twizzling straight into your heart once again.

genre. fluff, angst, exes to friends to lovers, slowburn, figure skating au

warnings. swearing, mentions of injury, riki is 21, reader is 21. both riki and reader compete for japan, set during the 2026/2027 figure skating season

wordcount. 25.4k (whoops)

author’s note. it's finally here :) timh! rikiyn will forever hold a very very special place in my heart and i !!! hope you love them as much as i do :,) here's a playlist i made if you'd like to listen to the songs i listened to while reading !! i hope you all enjoy reading and i love getting feedback and comments so pls lmk ur thoughts on this !! ^_^ i hope you love it

ONE. harder than a quad axel 

When it comes to love, Nishimura Riki is no stranger to getting hurt. 

Being a competitive athlete whilst trying to find love at the same time is surprisingly hard, he’s realised over his 21 years of existence. Figure skating is his career, it’s his life – but most of the people he’s ever been with never seem to understand the dedication he has for the sport. 

Riki thinks that skating is what makes him whole. If he didn’t have the ice, he’d feel like a part of him would be missing. 

On his list of priorities, skating comes on top of the podium. Love is left with 2nd place, a silver medal. Nobody he’s ever liked has ever come close to understanding how Riki can’t put love above figure skating. 

Nobody until he met you. 

He had met you at Junior Nationals 7 years ago, when you were sitting in the stands, watching the women’s free skate. He was sitting next to you, and you had decided to start a conversation with him. He learnt that you were a pairs skater, partnered with Takahashi Keiji, one of Riki’s old friends from primary school. 

You two had gotten lost in your conversation, completely forgetting about the performances in front of you. Talking to you was fun, and Riki found that he enjoyed your presence. A lot. 

It wasn’t long before you and Riki got closer. Every time that you both had spare time (which, to be fair, wasn’t often), you two would hang out together, going to various cafes and talking for hours and hours on end. You and Riki would also go to arcades, where you watched as he played with multiple claw machines, and he gave you one of the Hello Kitty plushies that he won. 

Everyone knew that you and Riki were bound to have developed feelings for each other. It was just a matter of time before you two realised, and when you two finally did, your friends both wasted no time on telling you both to just confess. 

Even though you had a feeling that Riki liked you back, you were always too scared to tell him about your feelings. But, when Taki blurted it out in front of the both of you accidentally during a training session, it led to you both confessing your feelings to each other – after all, it was all out in the open now. 

You both swear that Taki did it on purpose, but the boy still maintains his innocence. 

You two had both established early on in your relationship that your careers were important, and skating was of the utmost importance to the both of you. Riki was elated to have finally found someone who understood how he felt. You two know better than anyone that finding love is hard when figure skating is the most important thing in your life – and you have never felt luckier than to find someone like Nishimura Riki. 

Despite spending most of your time training, you and Riki managed to squeeze in dates whenever you both had a free spot in your packed timetable. From going to the arcade, walking around busy shopping malls or relaxing picnics in the park, every single moment you could share with Riki was special. 

But then came the transition into seniors. 

Competing in seniors added more pressure for the two of you. You two forced yourselves to train more, reducing the little time that you two had to spend together to practically almost none. Even phone calls and text messages between you two were rare – and when Riki had spare time, you were busy, and vice versa. It was clear to your friends that you both did not have any time for your relationship anymore, and the best decision was probably to end it before one of you got hurt. 

Riki was scared. Scared of losing the best thing that’s ever happened to him — he didn’t want to lose you. He wanted you in his life. 

But after weeks after weeks of him bailing on you for training, and weeks after weeks of you bailing on him for training, you two know that at this point, there was no relationship between you two. It was like you two had already broken up for months. You two just had to have a conversation to make the split official.

And that conversation happened when Riki was entering the rink for training, and when you and Keiji were leaving it. You had stopped him for a few minutes, and it was like Riki already knew what was coming.

“We both know that we’re too busy and focused on skating to be together.” you said, and Riki agreed. You two had tried your best to make it work — but your dedication to skating was just more… important. You both understood that.

“Yeah. I agree. So… I guess this is it, isn’t it?” Riki bites the inside of his cheek. He knows this is right, but he can’t help but feel upset about it. You were his girlfriend for 2 years — and the relationship was really going to end with a conversation that took less than five minutes.

“I guess so… um… I’m really sorry.” you say, and Riki nods, giving you a small smile. “I get it. You get it too. We have other priorities.” 

You smile, nodding at him. “We’ll still be friends, hmm?”

“Are you joking? Of course.” 

“I’ll see you around.” you stand there looking at each other for a few seconds until you pull Riki into a hug — one that he knows shouldn’t feel awkward, but somehow it does.

Maybe because he knows that it’s a goodbye hug.

“Thanks. For… everything.”

“You too.” Riki says, when you two separate. “Uh… I gotta go. Coach is waiting for me.” he says, and you nod. “Of course. Have a nice practice.” you say with a smile, before turning around to catch up with Keiji.

With a conversation that lasts no less than 5 minutes, Nishimura Riki’s first and only relationship ends.

Riki is off focus for the entire training session, and even weeks after that. His jump landings are shaky, he falls more often, and even his coach mentions to him that she doesn’t feel like he’s fully… there. 

He can’t stop thinking about how he could’ve lost his one and only chance at love. 

He knows he’s young, and it’s a little dramatic to say — but who would fall in love with him when they know that he cares more about his sport? 

It was different, because you were a skater, so you understood how he felt and agreed with him. But he knows not many people are willing to make sacrifices — and he understands.

Love is complicated.

It is even more complicated for someone like Riki.

Ever since he was young, Riki had always wanted to fall in love. His parents are still happily together, seemingly falling more in love as each day goes by. His older sister has seemed to find “the one” too, and his younger sister’s crush seems to be liking her back, from what he’s heard from her (and also from how he’s seen the boy look at his little sister when Riki goes to pick her up from school.)

But for Riki, who is the unlucky one in the family, falling in love is harder than landing a quadruple axel.

And Riki can’t even land that jump without falling yet. He’s a quarter off on rotation, so he’s getting there — but for love? Oh, Riki is way more than a quarter off. 

Riki likens his love life to be a triple axel he’s going for, but then he pops it. A popped jump is a very good way to describe Riki’s love life. Going for it, realising it’s something that can’t be done without hurting himself (but in the case of love, hurting the other person), then backing away. 

So, Riki decides that he’ll put love on hold for the meantime. But, it doesn’t stop him from getting a little bit jealous when he sees all his friends in happy relationships. 

He wants someone who understands his dedication to the sport and encourages him too. 

And that someone is you.

But, he’s very clearly lost his chance now. Your breakup was mutual — there was no animosity about it, but neither of you had taken up the offer of staying as friends.

Riki waited for you to text, and you never did. Little did Riki know that you were also waiting for him to text… and he didn’t either.

You two didn’t really talk much after that. And you didn’t end up seeing him much either, unless it was very briefly at competitions, since half a year after your breakup, you and Keiji had moved to Canada to train. But, Riki did see how you and Keiji had gotten better and better after the coaching change,  and he was proud of you two for gaining such amazing scores and delivering such wonderful programs. 

You could say the same about Riki too — you watched his skating online, and every single skate of his seemed to be better than the last. 

Slowly but surely, you two got over each other. It wasn’t easy for you, and it wasn’t for Riki either. But you two did what you knew best to try and forget.

To skate.

The thought of love just completely slips from Riki’s mind after a few months. His whole world is skating now, and he’s quite okay with that. Love is put on pause, for Riki. And he doesn’t know if he’ll press play any time soon.

It’s just that love never seems to come at the right time for Riki. Love seems to be far away, out of reach, and something that Riki can only dream of experiencing. 

Love has no time for Riki, and he does not have time for love either.

TWO. 4 continents, 4 years

“That’s a flutz. Do it again, Riki.” 

Nagai Hikari, Riki’s figure skating coach, stands on the other side of the boards, eyes scrutinising Riki’s every move. Her eyes are narrowed into slits as her eyes lock in on the blades on Riki’s boots.

He takes off into a lutz, arms outstretched above his head to do a rippon. Hikari nods in satisfaction when she sees that Riki uses the correct edge on takeoff. “Better.” she says.

Riki has worked with Hikari for years — and she is not a woman who gives out too many compliments. Short and simple is the way she does it, but Riki knows that she cares. 

Such as when Riki won his first senior competition. Riki had never seen her so happy. She actually had a bright smile on her face — one that Riki had never seen before.

Riki holds his hand up to tell Hikari that he’ll be taking a short break, and she nods. Riki skates up to the boards, where he sees Taki and Yuma sitting down on the bench, taking off their off-ice shoes.

“Riki with the rippons,” Taki says in his best impression of a commentator’s voice when he notices Riki. “They might as well just rename it to like… Nishimuras.”

“I would be on board with that.” Yuma pipes up. 

“Stop,” Riki says. 

“It’s your thing, okay?” Taki says, skating onto the rink. “That’s why they call you Riki with the rippons. You have your thing, I have mine.”

Riki skates alongside Taki, Yuma catching up with the both of them when he’s done lacing up his own skates. The three had gotten assigned the 3 spots Japan had for 4 Continents, with all three of them doing pretty well at Nationals. Riki had gotten assigned a spot at the World Championships next month as well, making the boy extra busy. 

The short program was tomorrow, and Riki felt that he was quite confident in his ability to do well. If he landed all his jumps cleanly, Riki thinks that he has quite a good shot at leading in the short. 

“Are you nervous?” Riki asks Yuma, whilst Taki skates away from the group to practise his jumps. From the corner of his eye, Riki sees Taki land a quad loop. Surprisingly, the loop is Taki’s favourite jump – Riki’s is the salchow, which Taki absolutely despises doing. 

“Kinda. First Four Continents… I’m bound to be a little nervous.” Yuma chuckles, and Riki nods, patting the boy on his back in reassurance. “You’ll do great, don’t worry.” 

“Riki, run through your short program again.” The sharp voice of Hikari catches Riki’s attention, and the tall boy nods. “Duty calls.” Riki says to Yuma, who nods. 

The music to Riki’s short program plays, and as if it’s instinct, his arms move exactly the way they’re supposed to, his feet carrying him across the rink — there’s not a single thought in Riki’s mind. It’s all muscle memory now, considering the amount of times he’s done the program.

He’s got a quadruple lutz lined up first, and he steps out of the jump. Hikari presses her lips together as Riki makes a mental note to make sure to land the lutz well. He’s always been able to land this one cleanly in the free skate — but in the short program, the quad toeloop has not been his friend at all.

He takes off into a quadruple salchow-triple toeloop combination jump, landing it cleanly. He hears a few cheers from the audience, and the sound of camera shutters going off from the photographers there. 

Hikari gives him a satisfactory nod from behind the boards. 

The rest of Riki’s runthrough of his program is executed well enough to meet Hikari’s high standards. Soon enough, they’re all told to leave the rink since practice time is over, and the ice dancers will have to use the rink.

Riki puts his skate guards on, sitting down on the bench next to Taki. “Oh, and before I forget to ask you, do you wanna go to lunch with the rest of us? The whole 4CC team is going, with the exception of Sakura and Fuma, ‘cause they’re practising.” 

Riki shrugs, taking off his skates to change into his regular sports shoes. “Sure. Where are we going?” 

“Kazuha found this nice restaurant nearby the arena,” Yuma chimes in. He puts his skates into his bag, standing up to wait for the two other boys to finish putting their skates away. “Let’s leave our bags in the locker room and go. I think Kazuha, Mina and Yuta are already there.” 

“I’m going to get changed.” Riki says, getting up from the bench and heading towards the changing room. He’s sweating after practice, and he’d much rather go out in fresh clothes than wear what he’s got on now. Taki and Yuma follow him not long after, and Riki changes into a black hoodie and a pair of jeans, spraying some cologne on as well. 

He brushes his bangs out of his eyes as he takes his wallet and phone out of his bag, shoving them into his pockets. “You ready?” he asks Yuma and Taki, who have also changed. The two boys nod, and they all head out of the changing room.

“Where’s the restaurant again?” Taki asks Yuma, who’s got the location entered into the GPS on his phone. “A five minute walk from here.” Taki replies, and he walks in the direction of where the GPS tells him to go, and the two boys follow him. 

Soon enough, the three boys arrive at the restaurant, telling the front of house staff Kazuha’s name, since she was the one who booked. The staff member takes them to their table, and Riki greets everyone before sitting down next to Taki.

But, when he turns his head, he sees Keiji sitting just one seat away from him, with the one next to Riki being empty. 

“Hey, who joined us?” 

Riki knows exactly who that voice belongs to, and he turns his head slowly to meet eyes with you.

Everyone at the table immediately goes silent as you and Riki stare at each other for a few seconds, neither of you moving. Riki lets out a shaky breath as he looks at you — he hasn’t really seen you at all since the breakup.

“Hey.” You’re the first to speak.

Riki gulps. “Hey.” 

You awkwardly slide into your seat next to Riki, and he sees Yuta wiggling his eyebrows at him, and Riki makes a mental note to send him a text message with many middle finger emojis later.

You haven’t seen Riki in a long time. He’s grown taller, way taller than you last saw him, and he’s now got dyed blonde streaks in his dark hair. It looks good on him — he looks good. As Riki talks to the others, you can’t help but stare at him. There’s a couple silver necklaces he’s wearing around his neck, and you’re sitting close enough to him to realise that he’s still wearing the cologne that you had recommended to him years ago. 

“So…” Kazuha starts. “How’s Bisco?” 

Riki’s eyes light up at the mention of his dog, and Hitomi notices that there’s a fond smile on your lips when you hear him talk about Bisco. After all, you did frequent Riki’s house when you two were together, and had formed a close bond with Bisco. 

Riki never told you (and doesn’t plan on telling you) but after your breakup, Bisco would often sit by the door, waiting to see if you’d show up. 

And you never did. 

“Good,” Riki says. “I’ll go back home to see him after the competition. I try to go back as much as I can since it’s only a 4 hour train ride from Nagoya to Okayama, but — training kinda steals most of the time I have.” 

“Oh, so you found out Bisco’s gender now?” you ask, absentmindedly — you don’t realise the words slip past your lips until Riki replies. “Uh, yeah. Konon told me, actually.” he chuckles awkwardly.

The tension between you and Riki is so thick that you could cut it with a knife. You didn’t think that seeing him would be this awkward, since you two had ended things amicably — but now that you’re seeing him for the first time after the breakup, you really don’t know what to say to him.

“Awks.” Taki whispers into Riki’s ear, and Riki rolls his eyes, nudging him on the arm. “Ow,” Taki says dramatically, clutching the spot where Riki had elbowed him. “That really hurt.” 

“Sure it did.” 

The lunch goes well for the most part, with Mina catching you and Riki sneaking glances at each other when one of you isn’t looking. There’s a sneaky grin on her lips as she watches the scene play out before her. You’re awkwardly taking a sip of your tea, whilst Riki is trying to do everything in his power to stop himself from trying to steal another glance at you. “They should talk.” Mina whispers into Kazuha’s ear.

“Keiji, practice is in an hour.” you tell your partner, and he checks the time. “Shit, right. Um, guys, we’ll have to leave soon for the official practice.” Keiji announces to the group, and Yuma nods.

“Let’s just all leave, then. We’re all done with eating.” Yuma says, and Riki nods. The boy stands up, looking at the time on his phone as you catch a glimpse of his lockscreen, and it’s of Bisco having Riki’s Worlds gold medal hung around his neck.

A smile spreads across your lips as you catch sight of the photo. “That’s cute.” 

Once again, the words slip out before you realise you say them. “Sorry. Caught sight of your lock screen.” you say, and Riki shrugs.

“It’s alright.” he says, and you two just stand there awkwardly, looking at each other — you both don’t even realise that everyone’s gone to the cashier to pay (even if they all did it purposely just to get you two to talk in private.) 

“So… how have you been?” you ask, attempting to start a conversation. “I’m good. Just training a lot… you know how I am,” Riki says, and you nod. “How about you? How’s Canada?” 

“Oh, it’s nice there. Really cold in the winter.” you say. “Colder than Japan?” he asks, and you nod. “Sometimes. Oh, and I forgot to say — congrats on gold at Worlds last year. You did really great.”

Riki smiles at you. It’s a smile that you didn’t know you missed until you saw it again. “Thanks. I saw you there, I think — just didn’t get a chance to say hi. I’ve seen you at many competitions, briefly, actually. Just… the opportunity never came up.” 

“Yeah. I saw you too. I was in the bleachers, actually. Umm… yeah, you did really great. You’ve come so far. Super proud of you.” you say, offering him a smile. “We haven’t talked in so long. How long has it been?” 

“4 years, I think.” Riki replies.

“Right. 4 years… 4 Continents.” you quip, and Riki tilts his head, looking at you with an amused smile.

“Good one.” 

You know it wasn’t really a good one. More of a lame joke, compared to the ones that you had told him before when you two were dating. 

“Thanks.” you say, shoving your hands into the pockets of your jacket. “We should probably… go. They’re all gone.” you say, and Riki nods. 

“Right. Yeah. Don't leave anything behind.” he says, not forgetting about your terrible habit of losing things often. He’ll never forget the day when you nearly forgot your skate bag in the bus that you two were riding on to get to the rink — thank god he was there to remind you to pick it up.

“Yeah. I won’t.” you say, checking the table once more. Riki remembering that about you makes you feel a little bit happy, somehow. To you, it shows that he didn’t really forget about you, despite not having seen or talked to you for 4 years.

You follow Riki as you two both make your way towards the cashier, Taki looking at Riki expectantly. “So… did you guys kiss?” 

“What the fuck?” Riki asks his friend. “You think I’m going to see my ex girlfriend after 4 years and after maybe a… 5 minute conversation, we’re going to kiss?” 

“You’re unpredictable. And you two also broke up in less than 5 minutes, so… yeah. Maybe.” 

“You’re insane, Taki.” 

“Are you guys going to go back to the hotel?” Sakura asks Riki, Yuma and Taki. The men’s single skating practices were officially done for the day — meaning Riki could just go back to his hotel room, flop onto the bed and sleep.

“Uh… yeah. Probably.” Yuma says. “Do you guys have any plans?” 

“I’m going to watch the pairs practice.” Kazuha pipes up. “You guys are more than welcome to tag along so we can watch (Name), Keiji, Mina and Yuta if you’d like.” 

“Might go take a shower before I come join you.” Taki says, and Yuma nods in agreement. “Yeah. And I’m sure Riki would love to tag along as well.” he says, and Riki knows that Yuma’s just enunciating the word ‘love’ to piss him off.

“Yeah, I’ll come.” he says. 

“Nice,” Keiji says. “See you later.”

The group splits up, with Riki, Taki and Yuma walking back to the hotel, and Hitomi, Kazuha, Mina, Yuta, Keiji and you heading to the arena. But before Riki gets far away enough, you call out his name.

“Hey, Riki?” 

The boy turns his head to look at you.

“It was nice seeing you again.” 

You leave before he can respond.

THREE. 3LzTh

Riki heads to the arena with his hair still damp.

Not the best idea in cold weather, but he makes do. He shoves his wallet into the pockets of his jeans, Taki trailing behind him.

“How was seeing (Name) again?” Taki asks, a smirk on his lips. “I know you’re trying to piss me off, and it won’t work. She’s just a teammate now.” Riki says, shrugging.

Huh. Riki doesn’t realise that you are just a teammate now until he says those words out loud. Over the years, he’s always thought of you as something more — you mean (or rather, meant) a lot to him. 

But he hasn’t talked to you in 4 years, and a lot can change in 4 years. You two might as well be strangers with a lot of history. “Ouch. Not even friends?” Taki asks.

“Things are a lot different compared to when we were 17,” Riki says. “Plus, I’ve only had one conversation with her since the breakup. Let’s take things slow, okay?” 

“Just saying, I think you two might end up falling in love again.” 

“You’re being ridiculous. Based on what? A 5 minute conversation?” 

“Based on how I feel like you’ve never really been over her. Let's face the facts here, Riki. You haven’t even tried to find someone else after your relationship with (Name). Not even a single thought about being in a relationship with anyone else has crossed your mind.” 

“Because I’m focusing on skating.” Riki replies.

“Or are you using that as a lame excuse because you know deep inside the only one who will ever be able to have your heart is (Name)?”

Riki blocks out what Taki says. He’s done with having the older boy meddle in his dating life, even if it is what got you and him together. Riki is over you. He is sure of it.

He enters the arena, sitting down next to Kazuha. “So…”

“Is this conversation going to be about (Name)?” he asks, and Kazuha shakes her head rapidly. “No, no, no.” she replies, but Riki knows that the girl is lying. 

“Then what is it about?” he asks, and Kazuha doesn’t say anything.

“Uh… I forgot. Slipped my mind!” she says quickly, before reverting her focus back onto the ice. Riki sees you and Keiji prepare to do a throw jump, and he doesn’t know why Riki feels this sudden sense of dread.

It’s the same kind of dread he felt every single time when he watched you and Keiji practice in the rink when you two were together, and whenever Riki felt that terrible emotion, you would fall.

And Riki is right. You’re barely a quarter of a rotation off, and you find yourself landing harshly on the ice. On instinct, Riki stands up abruptly from his seat, his eyes wide with worry. He doesn’t notice how Taki and Kazuha share a knowing smile.

“She’ll be okay, Riki.” Kazuha tells him. Riki looks at you on the ice, still not having gotten up. He squints to try and examine your expression to see if it is one of pain — and it is then when Riki realises he can’t read you like he used to anymore.

Things have changed too much for Riki’s liking.

But this is what happens when people break up. He accepted this fact so long ago, but why has it all changed suddenly when he sees you again?

You no longer make his heart skip a beat whenever he sees you. Surely, that is the telltale sign that he is over you by now. 

He sits back down with an inscrutable expression. Of course it is normal to care for you when he sees that you might be injured, is it not? But this feeling seems to be a little bit more than that — something that Riki cannot find an explanation for at this point in time. 

Perhaps he should just let that thought go and watch the practice. “Don’t be worried. (Name) is strong.” Taki says.

It’s exactly the same thing he told Riki 5 years ago when he saw you and Keiji practising a triple lutz throw. Riki remembers being so scared that Keiji would throw you across the ice so carelessly — but he knows that you trust Keiji. 

So in turn, he supposes that he should trust Keiji.

He watches as you and Keiji do a side by side triple loop, Riki holding his breath for the entirety of the time he sees you in the air. When you land the jump cleanly, he lets out a sigh of relief.

Riki realises that the last time he saw you skate in person was just before you two broke up. He didn’t watch your performances even when you two were at the same competitions, because he was too busy preparing for his own performances.

It’s funny, how he could’ve seen you so many times after the breakup — but there is some sort of force separating you from each other, and only bringing you two back together again now. 

Taki claims that your relationship with Riki was a right person, wrong time situation. And in some ways, Riki agrees. He does know that you are the right person for him, but he doesn’t think he is the right person for you.

He watches you practice silently, thoughts of his previous relationship with you running rampant in his mind. He is over you, he reminds himself. That heart-stopping feeling he always got whenever you smiled at him, the butterflies in his stomach, and the instantaneous smile that spread across his lips at the sight of you are now all gone. Riki is just reminiscing over the happy memories he had with you, there’s nothing wrong with that. 

And reminiscing over happy memories doesn’t sound like being in love at all, Riki thinks. Jokes on you, Taki. 

When the official practice is over, he heads to the vending machine, wanting to buy himself some coffee. When he gets there, he sees you, standing there as well, seemingly fishing through your wallet for coins.

“Hey,” he says, and you look up, a smile gracing your lips when you realise who it is. “Hey. You came.” you breathe out. 

“I did,” Riki says, rubbing the nape of his neck. “You guys did great. Did the fall hurt?” he asks, remembering the hard fall you had on the triple lutz throw. You shrug, chuckling. “Nothing I’m not used to.” 

“Mmm. Make sure to ice it when you get back to the hotel.” he says, pressing the buttons on the vending machine, then slotting in the coins. He takes the coffee out of the slot, handing it to you. 

He still remembers which one you like. 

“Take it.”

“Riki, it’s okay — I can just pay for my own.” you say, shaking your head. Your words only prompt the boy to hold the drink out closer to you, and you take it in your hands. “You sure?” 

“I wouldn’t give it to you if I wasn’t, (Name).” he says, running his fingers through his hair. He presses another button on the vending machine, paying for his own drink then taking it out of the slot. 

“I owe you one,” you say, and Riki shakes his head. “You don’t owe me anything. Just think of it as a gift.” 

“A coffee from a vending machine as a gift?” you ask, laughing. “I’ll treat you to coffee when we’re back in Japan.” 

Riki tilts his head, raising an eyebrow. “You and Keiji aren’t going back to Canada? Worlds is soon.” 

“Worlds is in Saitama this year. Figured it’d be easier, and Hikari’s letting us train at your rink for a bit until Worlds is over.” you say.

So Riki will have plenty of chances to see you again.

“Oh, that’s really nice. Let’s try and find a time where we can both make it.” 

The last sentence Riki says seems like a little bit of an insult — when he didn’t mean it in that way at all. He hopes he didn’t sound like he was blaming you for the breakup. It was a poor choice of words, given the situation that you two had been through.

“I didn’t mean it like that, by the way. I just meant in general, we should both be free for a… longer period of time when we go to the coffee shop.” Riki hurriedly tries to explain, and you shake your head, chuckling.

“Relax, I didn’t take it like that. Plus, we both know that the timing just wasn’t right.” you say, and Riki nods. “Yeah. We both know that.” he gulps.

“Right.”

The atmosphere suddenly feels very tense.

“I better uh… get going.” you say, awkwardly smiling at him. “Thank you for the coffee, Riki. Let’s talk more later?”

“Sure, of course. Um… you have my number.” 

“Yeah. Unless you’ve changed it, or something.” you say, and Riki shakes his head. “Just the same. Yours?” 

“Uh… same. It’s LINE, so… didn’t have to change much when I moved to Canada.” you say, and Riki nods. “Right, right. Um… I’ll see you.” he says, giving you a wave goodbye, before you two awkwardly part ways.

You turn your head to look back to see if he’s also looking back. He’s not, so you just turn back around.

As if you two are fated to just have the wrong timing, Riki looks back the exact moment you turn your head back around.

FOUR. zamboni 

Today is the day of the men’s short program.

Riki doesn’t feel his best today. Something just feels off — maybe it’s because he went out with damp hair in cold weather and he’s catching a cold, but he certainly hopes that’s not the case.

He chugs some water before he goes to line up, preparing for the 6 minute warmup, unaware that you and Keiji are seated in the bleachers as spectators. You’re dressed in a black puffer jacket that you’ve had since you were 15 – really, you’re still not quite sure how you’re still able to fit in it, but it’s comfortable and keeps you warm. Keiji looks over at you, noticing your eyes scanning the arena for any sight of Riki. 

“Are you looking for someone?” Keiji asks, and you cross your arms, frowning. “No,” you mumble, biting on the inside of your cheek. 

Of course, Keiji doesn’t believe you. He likes to think that he knows you better than most people, considering how you two have been paired together for nearly 10 years. 

“You can’t lie to me, (Name).” Keiji chuckles, and you avert your gaze from him. “You can be honest with me, you know? I mean… we live together, I throw you up into the air every single day and catch you while skating on frozen water — that at least shows that you trust me with your life, which in turn, means that you can trust me with whatever feelings you have toward your ex boyfriend, who also happens to be my friend from primary school.”

“I forgot you and Riki went to the same primary school,” you say, burying your face in your hands. “And I don’t have any… feelings towards him.” 

“So you’re saying when you see Riki, your mind goes blank? Not a single thought inside of that brain of yours?” 

“No, you idiot. But like… I don’t know what I’m feeling.”

Seeing Riki after 4 years has made some feelings that you had made yourself forget about long ago resurface, and now that they’re all out in the open, you don’t know what to do with them. It’s not like you’re still in love with Riki, but seeing him again makes you think of all the times when you were in love with him.

Moments like showing up late to practice due to staying a little too long at the arcade with more plushies in your arms than the amount that people throw onto the rink when you skate. Or moments like getting scolded by your coaches, who tell you that being late is not acceptable, and smiling at each other secretly, trying not to laugh while they tell you off. Moments like running to hug each other after getting your scores at the Kiss and Cry, both holding each other so tight you both feel like suffocating. 

Some part of you feels like you miss those moments.

But looking at the ice, you realise that you don’t think you can have those moments anymore. They are just memories now, memories that you hold near and dear to your heart.

Because even whilst Riki is in the arena, he’s never felt further away. 

Things with Riki are awkward. It’s not like he’s unwilling to become close with you again, and it’s not like you are either — but there’s just so much history between you two, things just can’t be smoothed over this easily, unlike the zambonis on the rink that smooth over the ice.

“Things are just complicated, Keiji,” you sigh, pursing your lips. “As much as I’d like things to be back to the way they were, we’ve both changed too much over the years.”

“Woah, woah, woah.” Keiji’s eyes widen in surprise, as you look at him confused. “Back to the way things were? Like… when you two were dating? Kissing? Showing so much PDA I nearly threw up on the rink?” 

“No!” you say quickly, and Keiji notices the defensiveness in your voice. “Just… when we were friends. When things weren’t awkward between Riki and I. I’ll figure everything out, okay? I just don’t know when.” 

“Huh.” Keiji furrows his eyebrows. “I think you’ll figure things out sooner than you think.” 

“Why’d you say that?” 

“No reason.” Keiji struggles to hide the smile on his lips.

“Please welcome the next group of skaters to the ice.” the commentator says, and when Riki skates out onto the ice, you immediately spot him.

But that’s not just because of your shared history together — Riki stands at 6’0, towering over all the other skaters. It’s pretty impossible to not spot him. Keiji carefully examines your expression as your eyes follow Riki’s figure as he skates across the ice.

Riki’s skating second in his group, and you watch as he takes off into a triple axel. The landing is a little shaky, and you notice him coughing slightly after he lands the jump. 

“Is Riki sick?” you ask Keiji, who shrugs. “Not sure. Why’d you ask?” 

“He’s coughing.” 

“Could have choked on air. I do that all the time.” 

Soon enough, the 6 minute warmup is over, and Riki leaves the rink. “Are you worried about him or something?” Keiji asks, and you bite the inside of your cheek.

The music for the first skater in the group starts. “If he’s sick, it’ll be hard for him to compete.” you mumble. 

The first skater lands a triple axel, the crowd clapping as you and Keiji join in as well. “Riki’s strong. He can take care of himself.” Keiji says.

“I know.” you say, and then you wince when the skater falls pretty hard on a quadruple flip. “Ouch.”

The skater’s program goes relatively well for the most part, except for the hard fall on the flip. You tap your foot rhythmically on the floor, nervously waiting for Riki to skate onto the rink.

That skater is placed 8th after the short program, it’s announced. Then, Riki skates onto the ice. 

There’s a strange twinge in your heart when you see Riki skate out onto the ice. His costume is gorgeous — the shirt is flowy, with sequin details on it. He brushes his bangs out of his eyes before skating to the centre of the rink, getting into his starting position.

“Try not to fall in love.” Keiji whispers in your ear.

You glare at him, elbowing him. “Shut up.”

The music starts, Riki skating across the rink elegantly. You just realised that you haven’t seen Riki skate in person in 4 years, since you never really got the chance to watch him skate even when you two were at the same competition.

The timing was never right. It never seems to be when it comes to you and Riki.

And at that thought, Riki takes off into the quadruple lutz, and he steps out of the jump. You see the disappointment in his face as he continues skating, and you frown.

“You’ve got this,” you mumble. Stepping out is better than a fall, at least — but you can tell something is stopping Riki from skating at his best. He doesn’t seem to be in the best condition today.

Then, he takes off into the triple axel. He lands it, and you clap loudly — Keiji looks at you, amused, but you’re too focused on Riki to care. 

Riki’s spins are always gorgeous. They always have been. It takes you back to the times when you two would practise on the same rink, you watching Riki spin from behind the boards, completely mesmerised.

The last jumping pass is a quadruple salchow-triple toeloop, and Riki barely hangs onto the toeloop. You’re glad that he didn’t fall, and all the jumps are done now — so now all he has to do is skate the rest of the elements well.

Riki has always delivered in terms of artistry and expression. Today is obviously no exception, despite him being a little off today.

When he finishes his program, the crowd cheers, and you and Keiji clap loudly. “Let’s go, Riki!” Keiji says, even though he knows that Riki can’t hear him. Riki bows to the audience, picking up a couple of stuffed toys that some audience members had thrown to him.

“He did good.” you say, and Keiji nods.

“I think that’ll put him in 1st for now. The step out and barely hanging on for the toe loop will cost him, but… there’s 4 more to go, so.” Keiji replies, and you press your lips together in a thin line as you wait for Riki’s score to be called out.

Seated in the Kiss and Cry, Riki sighs. He’s not happy with his performance today. He thinks he’s getting sick, and that definitely affected his performance. “You seem off today.” Hikari tells him.

“Think I’m catching a cold.” he replies, and his coach looks at him with concern. “Go back to the hotel immediately after. Take some Vitamin C supplements, then go get some sleep. I’ll get someone to take some medicine to your room.” 

“Thanks, Hikari.” Riki says, a grateful smile gracing his lips. The woman just nods, and Riki turns to grab one of the plushies that he had placed next to him on the bench.

Like Keiji predicted, Riki does go into the lead after that skate. But he knows it won’t last for long after the next 4 skates if they all skate clean. Riki knows that he’ll just have to make it up in the free program, but first, he’s got to focus on getting rid of this cold before it can properly hit him.

Riki leaves the Kiss and Cry, going to the locker room to get changed.

He’s unaware about Hikari messaging Keiji about getting some medicine for Riki, and as Keiji replies back, a small smirk makes its way onto his lips. When he sends the message back, Keiji turns to look at you. 

“Hikari wants you to help her do something.” 

FIVE. rushed entries

You find yourself with a shopping bag, being told to head up to Riki’s hotel room. He’s sick, Keiji tells you. 

Exactly like you thought.

You buy more than you think he needs. There’s 2 packs of lozenges, a few cans of the corn soup that you remember that he likes, some instant noodles, a few boxes of tissues and some cold medicine. You also put in a warm blanket that you had brought with you from Canada — you figure that he needs it more than you do.

You knock on the door, and you hear Riki’s footsteps approach. He swings open the door, and he looks tired. His nose is a little bit red, probably from blowing his nose.

“(Name)?” he asks, surprised that you’re here. His voice is a little croaky, and you frown.

“Hikari says you’re sick,”  you mumble. “I came by to give this to you.” 

“Oh,” Riki says. “Thank you.” 

“Um… you did well today.” you say. It’s still awkward between you and Riki, and you’re trying to fill the terrible silence with some sort of conversation. “Nice triple axel.” 

“Thanks,” he chuckles, but then he covers his mouth with his hand to cough. “Sorry. I think I’ve got a cold.”

“It’s okay. Um…” you don’t know whether you should stay or leave.

You and Riki stand there, looking at each other awkwardly. Riki thinks he should ask you to come in — but he’s sick, and your free skate is tomorrow. He can’t get you sick. 

But you’re also looking expectantly at him, as if you want to come in. Riki can’t read you anymore, so he figures that maybe he should just take a leap of faith and ask.

“Do you wanna… come in?” 

It takes you a few seconds to register what Riki had just asked you. “Oh! Um, yeah. Of course.” 

“You don’t have to. I’m sick, and you’ve got a performance tomorrow.” he says, shrugging. You shake your head. “No, no. I want to.”

Riki opens the door a little wider for you to enter, and you walk inside his hotel room. The boy closes the door, setting the bag that you had brought him on the table. He takes the boxes of tissues out, and then he takes out a can of the soup that you had brought him.

“You remembered.” he says, turning around with a small smile on his lips. 

“Yeah.” you breathe out, sitting down on the couch. “I remember we’d always go get that from the vending machine in winter. Warmed us up after practice.”

Riki nods. “Yeah. Thank you, by the way. This is really sweet of you.” 

“It’s no problem,” you say. You get up from the couch, helping him take out some of the stuff in the bag. You place the box of tissues on his bedside counter, and you place the blanket on the edge of the bed. “I brought this blanket if you need it. It’s kinda cold, so.” 

“Thanks,” Riki replies. He opens the can of soup, bringing it to his lips. The soup warms him up immediately, but also brings him back to the exact memory that you’d talked about a few minutes ago. You two would head to the vending machine, buying this small can of corn soup. It warms his heart that you still remember. “Still as good as it was before.” 

“I’m glad.” you reply, and Riki takes the cold medicine before he heads over to his bed, draping the blanket over himself. You sit on the couch awkwardly, just looking at Riki.

“You wanna watch a movie?” he asks.

“Sure.”

“Come here,” he pats the empty spot on the bed next to him. “Or you don’t have to. It’s just… the TV isn’t exactly visible from the couch.” 

“lt’s okay. I’ll come.” you say, and you walk towards Riki’s bed, climbing in next to him. You haven’t been this close with him since you two were together. It’s foreign yet familiar, and that confuses you. 

“What’d you wanna watch?” he asks. You turn your head to look at him, and you realise that he’s much closer to you than you actually thought he was.

“Um…” you say, flustered. “You pick.” 

“Your Name?” Riki suggests. “We always liked to watch that when we… um… yeah.” 

Your Name was yours and Riki’s movie. Every single time you two had a movie night, you two would watch Your Name, huddled up on Riki’s couch, and Bisco would watch it with you both too. You’d think that after watching a movie so many times you’d get tired of it, but Your Name never got old for you and Riki.

It brings back a lot of memories. “Yeah. Let’s do it.” 

Riki presses play. Gosh, he doesn’t know why he suggested Your Name. To be fair, it was the movie that you two always watched when you two were together — but bringing back old memories would make things awkward, and when Riki wants to become friends with you again, the worst thing to do is to bring back old memories.

But he can’t help it. You’re a familiar stranger to him now, and he doesn’t know what to do in situations like these. You’re so close, yet so far — Riki knows you, but he knows the you from 4 years ago. Who knows how much you’ve changed? Riki certainly doesn’t. 

“Hah, his name’s Taki.” you pipe up, thinking of your friend Taki.

“I’ve never thought about it like that.” Riki chuckles. “Hopefully Taki meets his Mitsuha. Gosh, maybe then he’ll be less interested in my love life since he’s got his own.” 

You laugh. Taki was the whole reason why you and Riki were able to confess your feelings to each other, so you do suppose that you should thank him.

You and Riki mostly watch the movie in silence. There’s occasional commentary from both of you, but you two are focused on the movie. It’s how it’s always been. You and Riki didn’t really like talking much when watching a movie — when you two were dating, he would just have his arms wrapped around you. He’d play with your hands, sometimes drawing little doodles on the inside of your palm with his finger.

The one part that has always gotten you and Riki emotional is when Taki writes ‘I love you’ instead of his own name. You remember both bawling your eyes out the first time you had watched the movie, finishing a whole box’s worth of tissues due to that one part.

“I’m going to cry,” you say. “We’ve watched this so many times, and I’ve never been able to control my emotions when it comes to this scene.”

“Don’t cry,” Riki says, looking at you. On instinct, he takes a hold of your hand to comfort you, and your eyes widen slightly. Fucking hell, Riki doesn’t know why he just did that. 

But you’re now looking at him with an unreadable expression. You’ve never been this close to Riki ever since your breakup — your faces are mere inches apart. If you just leaned in a little… you shake your head in an attempt to rid yourself of the thought, but it stays ingrained into your mind. He lets go of your hand, and you don’t know if it’s the music in the background, the memories that the movie reminds you of, or what — but you feel the urge to just pull Riki close and kiss him.

Maybe your feelings aren’t completely gone. 

Your eyes flicker to his lips, and Riki notices the look – it’s not very subtle at all. The boy doesn’t know what’s going to happen after this. Seeing you after 4 years has gone from awkward, to even more awkward, and now this. He doesn’t exactly know what this is, but he knows that something is going to change the entire trajectory of your relationship from here on out.

Riki is so beautiful. He’s always been beautiful. 

“You got rid of your moles.” you hum.

“Yeah. I did.” he gulps. 

“They were pretty.” you whisper.

You’re just saying whatever your mind’s thinking now. Nishimura Riki does tend to have that effect on you – blurting out whatever thought your mind has when it comes to him. 

Riki’s cheeks flush a bright pink as you continue to admire his features. Riki is sick, and his main priority is getting better before tomorrow — but with the way that you’re looking at him right now, that priority has flown straight out the window.

Riki glances at the lanyard around your neck. It’s the one with your athlete details on it, telling everyone that you’re competing at 4 Continents. He supposes that you didn’t take it off before going to buy all that stuff for him. Then his eyes glance to your lips, and you know that Riki’s not trying to make it subtle.

You nod at him.

So he pulls you in by your lanyard, connecting your lips with his. It’s a terrible idea, in hindsight — considering he’s sick, and you’ve got a competition tomorrow, but neither of you seem to care. You can taste the minty flavour of the lozenge in Riki’s mouth from his lips, and his hand moves to cup your cheek.

It’s only when you’re kissing him do you realise how much you’ve missed Riki. Riki kisses you with such longing, and it makes you think that he’s missed you too. When you two pull apart for air, all you can do is look at him with an expression that Riki once again can't read. He simply stares at you, not knowing what to say. He doesn’t know if there is anything to say. 

You don’t know if you want to say anything. You just want to kiss him again.

So you do.

You connect your lips with his once more, wrapping your arms around his neck. The movie is completely neglected now, the characters speaking just providing some background noise. 

Riki was right. Something has changed the trajectory of your relationship completely — and it was a kiss. He’s very well aware that you two aren’t dating, and you two only saw each other again after 4 years three days ago. He should pull away, because he doesn’t know what this all is supposed to mean, but as your lips are on his, he realises that he doesn’t think he really cares.

Funnily enough, Riki doesn’t even think that he’s sick anymore.

SIX. 3A (fall, ur)

You wake up next to Riki.

You guess that you were just too tired to have returned to your own room last night. Riki looks so peaceful next to you, sleeping with a blanket draped over his body.

As you try to get up, Riki stirs, peeking one eye open. You just remembered that Riki was a light sleeper. “Hey…” you say, and he blinks to adjust to the light. 

“Oh, morning.” 

“Do you feel better?” you ask him, and he nods. “Cold medicine was good. So was the soup. And… oh.” 

It seems like he just remembered the kiss. Or rather, kisses. It was a spur of the moment thing, and it’s not something that Riki regrets at all, but now it leaves a whole awkward conversation to be had with you about what it means for you and him now.

“So… about that. You know… kiss.” you awkwardly say. 

“Yeah.”

“It was a… spur of the moment thing. We got caught up in our feelings.” you say, and Riki nods. “Yeah. That’s exactly what happened. I couldn’t have said it better.” he chokes out.

He’s over you.

You’re over him.

You’ll blame Your Name for making you think of all those memories of you and Riki when you two were a couple. That’s what led you two to end up kissing. You know that Riki will blame the movie too. It’s not that you two have any feelings left for each other – it’s been four years! Four years is definitely enough for both of you to move on. 

“Did it mean anything?’ Riki asks. 

“No,” you gulp. “Nothing at all.” 

“Great. Glad we’re on the same page.” Riki grabs ahold of the water bottle placed on his bedside table. You nod at his words, eyes darting around to look at anywhere else but him. “Yeah.  Let’s just… forget about this, okay? We’ll just put this all behind, it never happened, and… we’ll just be friends. We’re friends, right?”

“Yeah. Of course, we’re friends.” Riki breathes out shakily, and you give him a small, awkward smile. You and Riki are friends. You guys can go back to the way things were – before the relationship, and before that… kiss last night, provided that you both don’t continue to think about past memories. 

“Let’s start over?” 

“Yeah.” Riki replies. “Let’s start over.” 

It’s fine. You’ll just forget about the kiss – it’s not going to be that hard to forget, right? You and Riki kissed when you two were together, it’s not like it’s any different. Except that it was 4 years after your breakup, and also a spur of the moment thing. You should stop thinking about it before it completely consumes your mind and knocks you off focus before your competition, so… you just lock that memory in a little box in your brain and throw away the key.

“Oh! My competition.” you say, suddenly being reminded. You have official practice in around an hour, leaving you with extremely limited time to get dressed. “You should go. Um… thank you for all the stuff, by the way.” Riki says, and you nod. 

“No problem! I’ll see you later?” you ask, heading towards the door. 

“Yeah!” Riki calls out after you, and you give him a quick wave before leaving the room. 

Another five minute conversation leaves your dynamic with Riki changed once more. It seems like five minutes is the perfect amount of time for you both to make drastic, huge changes in terms of your relationship. 

But Riki is so incredibly fucked. 

Because one, he doesn’t think he can just forget what happened last night so easily. His worst trait is that he dwells on things a little too much – and oh, boy, Riki is going to dwell on this a lot. He’s never going to tell you this because you seem to feel regret about the whole kiss, but some words that he said in that 5 minute conversation he had with you are words that he doesn’t think he really means. 

Yes, it was a spur of the moment thing. Yes, Riki got caught up in his feelings. But, that kiss did mean something to Riki. Taki was right. Riki’s not over you yet, and the fact that he realises this after only 3 days of seeing you again worries him a little. 

Because how long has he been suppressing these feelings for? Or how long has he been neglecting how he feels, too busy focused on skating to even pay attention to the fact that he’s missed you? These feelings arising once more so quickly and so suddenly makes Riki scared. 

Scared because Riki knows that you don’t feel the same way. You’re so quick to tell him that it meant nothing to you, so quick to leave, even if you did have a reason. So quick to tell him that you’d like to start over, and so quick to be able to get over him when his mind’s stuck on you. 

Riki’s falling. And it’s not one of those falls where he thinks he can get up really fast from, like an underrotated triple axel that leads him to falling right on his ass.

He hurriedly runs to unplug his phone from the charging port, pressing on the call button on his cousin Rei’s contact. She picks up, incredibly quickly – no surprise there, since Rei’s eyes are always glued to her phone whenever he sees her. 

“I’m so fucked, Rei.” 

“I saw the tweets. Why didn’t you tell me you and your ex started talking again?” she says, and Riki furrows his eyebrows at her words. “What? How’d you know?”

“You really think none of your fans would take photos of you two talking at the vending machine inside the arena?” Rei chuckles. Riki sighs – Rei’s right. Rei was the one Riki always went to when he needed to ask for relationship advice, instead of Taki, who’s answer was always these two words: just kiss. 

“So what problem do you have now? Did you guys kiss, and then one of you regretted it or something?”

Rei must be a psychic. 

Riki’s silence gives Rei the answer she’s looking for, and Riki just hears her slam her hand on the table. “No fucking way, you guys kissed? Who, when, what, where, why, how?” she yells into the phone, and Riki brings his phone away from his ear due to how loud the girl’s voice is. 

“Quiet down, will you?” he says, frowning. “Yes, we… kissed. And she said that it didn’t mean anything, and that it was just a spur of the moment thing where we got caught up in our feelings.” 

“Then what did you say back?”

“I agreed?”

“Did you mean it when you agreed?”

“No?”

“You fucking idiot!” Rei yells, and Riki notices that he hasn’t even put her on speaker, but his ears already hurt from how loud she is. “Why didn’t you tell her that it meant something to you?” 

“Because it’s weird! I see her for the first time in 4 years after our breakup, then I kiss her 3 days later and I’m supposed to tell her how I feel when I don’t even know what I feel?” 

“Yes!” Rei replies, as if it was the most obvious answer in the world. “Riki, everyone in the world could tell that you were never really over her. You just used skating to distract yourself, but the way you two ended things was bound to leave some sort of lingering feelings. For fuck’s sake, your breakup took less than 5 minutes. I’m sure that there were words that you meant to say and words that she meant to say.” 

“So what do I do now?” Riki asks, anxiously biting his bottom lip. 

“You’re the one who knows her. What do you think you should do?”

Riki doesn’t know, but he doesn’t plan on involving another kiss anytime soon, despite how much he wants it to happen again. 

SEVEN. figure it out

Keiji surprises you at the door of your hotel room.

“Seems like you spent the night somewhere.” he says, a sly smile on his lips. “Maybe a 6’0 male singles skater who you have some history with?” 

“Shut up, Keiji.” you swipe your key card to unlock the door. “I just went to his room to pick up the jacket I left behind last night.” you lie, and Keiji raises an eyebrow.

You know he probably doesn’t believe you, but he also doesn’t pry further. 

“How is he?” Keiji asks, and you shrug. “Seems to be doing fine. Bought him some soup, he took some medicine, we watched a little bit of a movie, then I left.” You obviously leave out the part where you two had kissed, because god forbid if Keiji found out, he’d tell everyone.

Then, it would make everything between you and Riki awkward again. But after your little conversation with him this morning, you think that maybe you and Riki can get past that initial awkward stage.

You just have to get rid of the thought of that kiss from your mind.

“Did he cough much this morning when you saw him? Or sniffle?” 

“No, he seems to be alright.” you reply, taking a new change of training clothes from your suitcase and heading to the bathroom, locking the door. “What movie did you guys watch?” Keiji asks.

“Your Name,” you say, without giving much thought to it.

“Are you kidding me?” Keiji asks, in disbelief. “Your Name is literally yours and Riki’s movie. I can’t even watch it without thinking of you two. Are you sure nothing happened?” 

Keiji knows you a little too well. You suppose that’s what happens when you’re pairs partners for nearly 10 years but gosh, sometimes you wish that he didn’t know you this well so you could get away with lying to him sometimes. 

“I’m sure, Keiji,” you say, pulling your shirt over your head. You turn to look in the mirror, fixing your hair into a neat ponytail before unlocking the door and leaving the room. “Look, Riki and I are just friends now, okay? We talked last night and we’ll put everything behind us.” 

“Everything? How are you supposed to forget hundreds of makeout sessions? A shit ton of hugs? Date nights that involved you two watching the same movie over and over again?” 

Terrific. Keiji’s words bring you back to last night. And to be fair, he is somewhat correct — how are you supposed to forget? But you’ll find a way, right? It’s not like the thought of Riki has consumed your mind for the past 4 years when you two have been separated. 

You’ll see him more often now that you and Keiji will be training in Nagoya for a bit, so you figure that it’ll be best to just pretend nothing ever happened to ease the tension between you two.

“Riki and I were friends first before we dated. I can handle this, Keiji.” you say, and you grab your skate bag. “Come on, we should head to the rink.” 

When walking to the arena, flashbacks to last night keep replaying in your mind. You’re reminded of your face being inches away from Riki’s, him pulling the lanyard around your neck to connect your lips together, and the cool, minty flavour of the lozenge on his lips. 

You don’t realise that you’re unconsciously bringing your fingers up to your lips. The feeling of Riki’s lips on yours still linger, for some reason, and you don’t notice how Keiji’s looking at you strangely. 

“What’s up with you?” Keiji asks.

“Nothing.” you reply quickly. 

You enter the arena, and you head towards the vending machine to buy a coffee. “I’ll head down soon,” you tell Keiji, who nods. 

“(Name).” 

You look up, and you’re greeted with the sight of Riki. “Riki! Hey,” you reply, flashing him a smile. “Didn’t know that you were going to come watch our practice today.” 

“Oh, I’m not watching practice today, sorry. I’ve got a clash, since the men’s official practice is today and at another rink – I just stopped by to hand this to you.” he says, handing you your blanket. He’s folded it neatly, and you thank him gratefully before taking it into your hands.

“Thank you, Riki,” you say. “Um, you’re feeling better today, right?” 

“Yeah. You asked me that this morning,” he chuckles. “Cold medicine and lozenge really did its wonders.” 

You’ll never be able to think of lozenges the same way again. 

The word alone brings you back to the kiss from last night, and maybe you shouldn’t have proposed the idea of putting everything all behind when you can’t even forget about that one kiss. 

“Hello? (Name)?” 

Riki’s voice snaps you out of your daze. “Oh! Sorry. Just competition nerves have gotten me feeling a little out of it,” you lie, chuckling. 

“Hey, you’ll do great.” Riki says, placing a hand on your shoulder. You tense up slightly when Riki’s hand makes contact with your shoulder, and that’s enough for Riki to pull his hand away. “Sorry.”

“No, it’s okay. Um, I’m just really nervous. Thank you, by the way.” you say, giving the boy a grateful smile.

“You’re welcome,” Riki says, returning the gesture by smiling at you too. “I’ll head off now, but have a great practice!” 

“You too, Riki.” you beam at him, and you watch as his figure disappears past the doors of the arena. 

Maybe now you realise it’s a little hard to forget about your shared history with Nishimura Riki. But both of you had agreed to put everything behind you two, so that’s exactly what you’ll do, no matter how hard it is to forget some certain events (to name one of them, that kiss from last night.) 

You want to have a relationship with Riki again. Not a romantic one — even though you don’t think you’d mind that if it did happen —  but you want to be friends with him again. You’ve missed having Riki around. 

And as you lace up your skates before heading onto the rink, you tell yourself to forget about the minty flavour on Riki’s lips for just a little while.

EIGHT. strawberry cakes and skates

You don’t spot Riki anywhere when you skate onto the ice for your free skate. 

Admittedly, you are a little disappointed – but that doesn’t stop you from focusing all your attention on making sure you and Keiji have a clean skate. You forget about minty lozenges, Your Name and Riki’s lips on yours. 

Forgetting about those events proves to be helpful, as you and Keiji end up on the podium. Second place isn’t bad at all, and you’re glad that you and Keiji get to add another medal to your collection. Mina and Yuta place first, and even though you and Keiji weren’t the ones to bring home gold, you’re glad that your teammates were able to. 

You rush to the locker room to change out of your costume after the victory ceremony, changing into a cropped cardigan that you had thrifted from somewhere and a pair of jeans. You redo your makeup as well, since the competition makeup is a little too dramatic and over the top after you’ve changed. 

When you leave the locker room, you see Keiji and Riki talking, with Riki holding a Hello Kitty plushie in his hands. You walk up to the two boys, slinging your bag over your shoulder. “Hey,” you say, and they both turn their attention to you. 

“Hey,” Riki says, and he holds out the plushie to you. “It’s for you. Sorry I couldn’t make it to watch your performance.” 

You smile at Riki as you gratefully accept it with both hands. “Thank you, Riki. And it’s no problem – I know you’re busy preparing for your own performance later today.” 

“Hey, where’s my plushie?” Keiji asks, looking at Riki. “(Name) steals all of yours anyways,” Riki points out. “Unless you don’t anymore…?”

Keiji crosses his arms, feigning anger. “She still does. But I would’ve guarded the one you gave me with my life, okay? Unless you’re only giving one to her because you–!” 

Riki claps a hand over Keiji’s mouth before he can finish his sentence. You watch the scene in front of you in amusement, chuckling as Keiji gives Riki a death glare. “Good job, Riki.” you say, giving him a thumbs up. 

“You two are ganging up on me again… just like old times.” Keiji says, and this time it’s yours and Riki’s turn to give Keiji a death glare. Keiji bringing up your past relationship with Riki is really not helping either of you in your quest to put everything all behind, and gosh, you love Keiji to death, but you wished that he would just shut up about all this to make things less awkward between you and Riki. 

“Anyways… do you wanna go grab lunch?” you ask, and Riki nods, his hands stuffed into the pocket of his hoodie. “I should probably go eat before my performance later,” Riki says. “Keiji, are you gonna come along?” 

Keiji struggles to hide the small smirk that makes its way onto his lips. He’s got a plan, and that plan is to get you and Riki to spend time alone as much as possible. So he pulls out his phone, pretending that Taki had just texted him. “Oh, Taki and I already planned on going to eat. You guys go alone.” 

“Oh, perfect – just invite Taki along.” you say, and Keiji shakes his head. “No, it’s all good! See you!” 

Your partner then runs off, as you and Riki watch in confusion. “Well… that was really strange.” you say, and Riki nods in agreement. “He told me he had absolutely no plans.” Riki replies. 

“Maybe Taki had just texted him.”

That’s a lie, and you both know it. It’s incredibly obvious that Keiji just wants you and Riki to spend time together, in hopes that you two will reconcile and start dating again. Little does he know that you both have decided to put everything behind – even though that has proven to be a little bit of a struggle, considering how you both can’t stop thinking of the kiss. 

But, you’re not too mad at Keiji running off and leaving you and Riki alone. It provides more opportunities for you and Riki to get used to having each other around again. Since you and Keiji will be training at the same rink as him before Worlds, you’ll see Riki often anyways, and the more you see Riki, the more chances you have to get that whole awkwardness stage over. 

You think it’s going pretty well. 

“Where’d you wanna go eat?” you ask him, and Riki shrugs. “You pick. If you didn’t ask, I was just going to go to a coffee shop, maybe eat something light and get a coffee.” 

“We can do that. I can treat you to coffee now, then.” you beam. 

“You really don’t have to.” Riki says. “Let me help you get that, by the way.” he says, taking your skate bag and slinging it over his own shoulder. “It looks heavy.”

God damn it, Nishimura Riki. You can’t do these heart fluttering gestures when I’m trying to get over you, you think. 

“Oh, thanks.” you manage to choke out, and Riki just nods. “Come on, let’s go.” he says, and you follow him, trying to calm the erratic beating of your heart. Riki knows exactly what to do to make your heart do flips, and he’s certainly making it hard for you to forget about everything. 

“Are you nervous for your free skate later?” you ask him, walking next to him side by side. Riki shrugs, pursing his lips. “I mean… yes? I’m trying not to think about it though… that’ll make me more nervous, and I don’t wanna mess up.” 

“Understandable. I’m sure you’ll do great, though. I saw pictures of your costume — it looks really nice.” 

“Are you stalking me?” Riki jokes, and you shake your head no, laughing. Riki’s comfortable enough to start cracking jokes with you again. You guess he’s handling the whole “putting it all behind us” situation better than you are.

Little do you know, you are very wrong.

The sound of your laughter makes warmth bloom across Riki’s chest. He tells himself to ignore that feeling.

You two walk to a nearby coffee shop, pushing open the door as you hear the bells hung to the handle jingle. The atmosphere is cozy and warm, and there don’t seem to be a lot of people in the cafe at the moment. 

“What do you wanna get?” you ask Riki, and his eyes scan the menu written on the blackboard hung to the wall. “Just an iced americano would be great. I’ll pay for my food.” he says, pulling his wallet out of his pocket.

“Nope,” you say, slapping his hand away gently. “My treat.” 

“(Name), you said you were only going to treat me to coffee. Plus, you bought me all that medicine and soup — come on, let me pay for my food.” 

“Just go sit down, Riki.” you say. “I’ll go pay.” 

Riki opens his mouth to protest, but you just shoo him away, and he sighs reluctantly. You turn to the boy at the counter with a bright smile. His name is Jake, according to the name tag clipped to his shirt.

“Hey, what can I get for you today?” 

“Two iced americanos, one slice of the strawberry cake over there and… the banana chocolate muffin.” you tell Jake, who types it into the register. “Cool. Cash or card?” 

“Cash,” you reply, handing Jake the money. “Thanks so much.” 

“No problem,” Jake says, handing you the change. “I’ll bring you guys your order soon.” 

You thank him once again before you head over to where Riki’s sitting. He’s typing on his phone, and he looks up when you sit down in the chair opposite to him.

“What’d you get for me?” 

“Strawberry cake. We’d always go get some after competitions, remember?” you smile softly, and Riki nods. “Of course I do. The shop near the rink had the best ones, remember? The lady there still knows who I am — she’s been asking about you.” 

“Mrs Kimura? Oh my gosh, how is she doing?” 

“Really good, actually.” Riki says. “She’s gotten her grandson to help out with the shop, and the cake’s still just as good. We should go there again when we’re back in Nagoya.”

“Definitely,” you beam. “Gosh, I miss Japan. I’m going to stop by Okayama to visit family first, though. That’s Keiji and I’s plan before going to Nagoya to prepare for Worlds.” 

“Oh, that’s what I’m doing as well,” Riki says. “Konon says Bisco misses me.” 

“Bisco, oh my gosh. I miss Bisco.”

Riki smiles. “Yeah, well… Bisco misses you too. You know, according to my sister, Bisco’s in love with the neighbour’s dog?”

You gasp. “No way. Fudge? That one? Or is it another dog?”

“No, no, it is Fudge!” Riki says, and your jaw drops. “Bisco would always bark at her, but we found out it was because he actually just liked her?”

Riki only found out about Bisco being in love because his sister was trying to tease him about how he “hasn’t pulled anyone since his breakup with you.” Sad, but laughable. And she isn’t wrong, either.

Jake walks up to your table with a tray in his hands, placing one iced americano each in front of the both of you. “Strawberry cake is for…?” 

You gesture to Riki, and Jake sets down the plate in front of him, placing down a fork next to the plate as well as a napkin. “Muffin must be for you, then. Enjoy.” Jake says, and you two thank him before the boy leaves. 

“Strawberries. I love strawberries.” Riki hums.

“Yeah, you microwave them too, like a lunatic.” 

“They taste better microwaved, (Name)! You told me you understood when I made you try it before.” Riki protests, as he watches you take a bite out of your muffin. 

“Well, that was because I was… you know.”

You were going to say that it was because you were in love with him. But saying that would make things awkward, and right now, you’re having a lot of fun talking to Riki. Plus, you haven’t thought about the kiss once. You’re taking this as a win.

“Is the cake good?” you ask Riki, changing the topic, and he nods, taking another bite. “Really good,” he says between mouthfuls. “I wanna buy another one after the competition.” 

“I want to try it. Maybe I’ll order one for myself.” you hum. 

“Just have some of mine.” Riki says, pushing his plate towards you. “Really?” you ask.

“It’s not like we haven’t shared food before.” 

Right. You try a bit of the cake, and Riki’s right — it is really good. It brings you back to when you and Riki would share the strawberry cake at Mrs Kimura’s shop. Of course, it doesn’t taste exactly the same, since the frosting at Mrs Kimura’s is a little lighter.

“That’s so good.” you say, and Riki nods with a twinkle in his eye. 

“Oh, you’ve got frosting there.” Riki says, noticing the smudge of frosting on the side of your lips. “Where?” you ask, and Riki leans in a little closer to wipe the frosting off with the pad of his thumb.

Unconsciously, as he does the motion — your eyes flicker to his lips once again. Riki notices, but he decides not to say anything.

Your face feels hot. Very, very hot. Riki’s does as well.

“Ahem. So…” Riki starts. “We should definitely get more of the cake again.” 

“Oh, one hundred percent. It’s really good.” you say, attempting to rid the awkwardness between you two. It’s working, you think.

The rest of your lunch goes pretty well. You two talk a lot, catching up on what the other has missed through those four years of no contact, and it reminds Riki of your first conversation ever, at Junior Nationals 7 years ago.

But Riki will keep quiet about how he thought of kissing the frosting off your lips.

You also won’t tell him that you were secretly hoping that he did that instead.

NINE. slipping up

Like you and Keiji, Riki places 2nd overall. 

Obviously, he would’ve liked to have taken home the gold, but he’ll just make sure to perform better at Worlds. And second place isn’t the worst. At least he got to go home with a medal, and had gotten some strawberry cake with you after the event was over. 

The time on the plane ride back to Nagoya flies faster than ever, with you and Riki chatting nonstop for the whole duration of the flight. Everyone else on the team watches you both with knowing smiles, giggling to themselves as they whisper to each other about what they think is going to happen between you two. 

“Something definitely happened when I sent (Name) to bring Riki medicine. Their dynamic shifted.” Keiji hums, his eyes fixated on you walking next to Riki.

“They got out of the awkward stage pretty fast, hmm?” Taki tilts his head. “They’re already acting like how they did before they started dating. Maybe it’ll take a bit of meddling to get them together.” 

“You do it.”

“Why do I always have to be the matchmaker?”

“You… did it last time? Because you said you couldn’t stand seeing them acting like a couple but not actually dating?” Keiji blinks, and Taki lets out an ‘ah’ when he’s reminded of his own words from years ago.

“Ah, right. I’m a genius.” 

“Quit flattering yourself,” Kazuha says, walking up to the two boys. “I think they’ll get together on their own this time.” she looks at you two with a smile on her lips.

Taki hopes that Kazuha’s right. Admittedly, he does like meddling in Riki’s love life — only because he wants to see him happy — but he kind of hopes that Riki can just gather up the courage and confess without Taki needing to “accidentally” slip up. 

“Wait, where are you going to stay in Nagoya?” Riki asks you, suddenly remembering that you had sold the apartment where you used to live in before you went to Canada. “Oh, I’m staying with Hinata and I believe Keiji’s going to stay with Fuma.” you reply, mentioning an old friend of yours.

“Ah, Hinata. I haven’t seen her in a really long time,” Riki hums. Hinata was your friend who Riki only happened to meet because you two were dating at the time, and he remembers asking her for ideas on what to get you as a gift for your 6 month anniversary. He eventually settled on a set of headphones that Hinata said that you had been eyeing for a couple of months.

You still use those headphones.

“I haven’t seen her in like… 6 months? But yeah, you haven’t seen Hinata in a while. I’m just going to drop off all this stuff at her place, then I’ll pack another bag and head back to Okayama.” you say, patting the giant luggage that you’re wheeling around.

“That’s my plan as well,” Riki says, checking the time on his phone. “There’s a train in 4 hours, I’ll probably go catch that one. Do you wanna go together?”

You beam at him. “Of course. I was hoping you’d ask — a 4 hour train ride can be so boring.” 

“You could sleep. You didn’t get any sleep on the plane, and you usually doze off the minute you sit down.” Riki points out, and you nod. “Well, I was busy talking to you. Plus, I’m not that tired.” 

“That’s good,” Riki says. “If you wanna sleep on the train, just let me know — I’ll wake you up when we get there.” 

Your heart beats a little faster than normal at his words. Mainly because when you and Riki were together, you’d often find yourselves going on the same trains back to Okayama — you would be sleeping, while Riki listened to music and drew in his sketchbook.

Riki’s sketchbook was filled with drawings of you, with some that he showed you, and some that he hid. Not because he thought they weren’t good, but because he was embarrassed at how often he’d draw you. There were just pages after pages of his doodles of you — he swears there’s one sketchbook that consists only of his drawings of you.

“Okay,” you hum. 

You and Riki part ways soon after that, with you taking the train to Hinata’s apartment. You struggle a bit with walking around with 2 suitcases, but you manage to make it work. You meet Hinata at the station, and she immediately rushes to help you with your bags — but not before she wraps you in a huge hug.

“(Name)!” she says, hugging you so tight you’re gasping for air. “I’ve missed you.” 

“I’ve missed you too,” you say, smiling at her. “Congrats on the medal, by the way.” she looks at the medal draped around your neck — you had forgotten to take it off after the pictures at the airport.

“Thanks, Hinata.”

“So… I see from the news that you’ve been reconnecting with a special someone?” she asks, wiggling your eyebrows at you. She’s no doubt referring to Riki, of course. “Sure, I suppose you could say that. We’re going to take the train back to Okayama later today.” 

“What? Riki’s stealing you from me again? Man, don’t tell me I only get to see you for a few hours today before you disappear for a week.” she pouts. 

“I’m sorry!” you reply. “I’ll be back super soon, and we can go hang out as much as you want. We have lots to catch up on anyways. Well, by as much as you want, it depends on when I’m not training, because I can’t skip — Seungmin is going to kill me, but yeah. As much as you want.” 

“That’s not very ‘as much as you want’, (Name).” Hinata jokes, and you sigh. “I know, I’m just so busy. Making plans is much easier during the off-season, which is soon, so don’t worry.” 

“I get it. So,” Hinata starts. “What happened between you and Riki?” 

You can tell her, right? Hinata’s been your closest friend since you were little — she won’t tell anyone. Most importantly, she won’t tell Keiji or Taki. So you think you’ve got the green light to tell her absolutely everything.

The apartment complex Hinata lives in is pretty close to the train station, so you two get there in no time. As Hinata unlocks the door, you figure that you should tell her now — you didn’t want to tell her now, because you were worried that she might get so shocked to the point where she shouted in the streets.

“So, umm… we had lunch together.” you start, and Hinata nods. “Then, he bought me coffee, so I said I’d treat him. But after that, he got sick, so Keiji told me to grab some medicine for him and bring it up to his hotel room — which I did, and then… we, uh…” 

“You guys what?” 

“Kissed.” you murmur, but Hinata can still hear it.

“You guys kissed?” she practically shrieks, and oh, you’re so grateful you decided to tell her when you two came into the apartment. She looks at you with wide eyes, as you sit on the couch, tapping your foot on the ground awkwardly.

“How did you go from buying him medicine then to kissing?” 

“It just happened! It was a spur of the moment thing — but, we had a conversation, and we’ve decided to put everything behind us.” you say, and Hinata looks at you with a raised eyebrow. 

“And how is that working out?” 

“Great! We’re good friends now. Seriously, there’s no awkwardness between us, and I’m over the relationship. Riki and I are just friends now.” 

Hinata nearly bursts into laughter at your words. She just finds it so unbelievable that you and Riki can “put it all behind you two” because from what she knows about you, you’re probably overthinking every single little action from Riki.

“What? Is it so hard to believe?” 

“Yes!” Hinata says, and you frown. “I’m sorry, (Name) — but is it bad to say that I see you two getting back together?” 

No, not at all, you think. You think you’d love that, actually. But you would never admit it out loud, so you lie to her. “Yes.”

Hinata doesn’t believe you. Gosh, maybe you are a terrible liar. Either that, or Keiji and Hinata know you too well. 

You unpack some of the items in your suitcases, placing them in drawers in Hinata’s spare room that she had so kindly allowed you to stay in for the time being. You leave only the essentials in your suitcase that you’re taking with you to Okayama, and you place your skate bag on the floor. You won’t need them for the time you’re there anyways. 

You wheel the suitcase you’ll be bringing with you to Okayama out into the living room, where Hinata’s watching television. “Don’t tell me you’re leaving this soon,” she says, looking over at you. 

“No, not yet. The train’s in 2 hours, so I’ll probably go in an hour and a half so I can meet up with Riki.” 

“Ooh, Riki.” Hinata says, wiggling her eyebrows at you as you groan. “I regret telling you everything. Oh, and whatever you do, do not tell Keiji or Taki. Those little shits will hold it against me until I tell Riki about any possible feelings I may have for him.”

“I won’t tell them. But what do you mean about any possible feelings you might have for Riki? Are you saying you feel something for him again?” she asks, as you brush your hair out of your eyes.

“No? Yes? Ugh, I don’t know. I’ll figure it out, okay? Everything’s happening all too fast, and I… need time to figure out how I feel.” 

“Well,” Hinata starts. “Take your time. Nobody said you had to rush into things. Eh, wait — you two kinda did, with that spur of the moment kiss — but hey! Whatever works for you two. Riki and (Name)… just friends!” 

Yes. Whatever works for you two. Right now, you and Riki staying as just friends is working out pretty great, so you think that you two will stick to it. 

“Just friends. You know it.” you chuckle.

Just friends, huh? 

Those two words leave a bitter taste in your mouth.

TEN. side by side (jump)

You meet Riki at the entrance of the train station with a bright smile on your lips.

He seems just as happy to see you as well, despite only seeing you a few hours ago at the airport after your flight. “Good to see you again,” he says. “Even though I saw you a little while ago.” 

“Good to see you too, Riki.” you reply, and you two walk into the train station together. Just like old times. 

Riki waits for you to be able to tap your card on the reader — the train station is quite busy today, even busier than usual. You pass through the gate, dragging your suitcase behind you. “Should we grab some food or snacks? I ate a little bit at Hinata’s, but it’s a 4 hour train ride. We might get hungry.” 

“Sure.” Riki replies. He points out a FamilyMart located inside the station, and you two walk there side by side. “Are you going to get onigiri?” you ask him, and he nods. 

“You’re so predictable, Riki.” 

“You just know me well.” 

Silence. But it’s a comfortable silence. You and Riki have gotten past that awkward stage faster than you two had anticipated. Just friends, now. 

Even if you two wish that you could be more. Like old times. When everything between you and Riki seemed right.

When he’d softly nudge your hands with his head when you stopped playing with his hair for a bit. When he’d hug you randomly in the middle of the ice rink, the both of you hearing Keiji’s frustrated sighs in the background. When he’d kiss you underneath the cherry blossom trees every spring.

With Riki, everything always seems right.

Even the days leading up to the breakup, you enjoyed his presence in your life, even if he could barely spend time with you, and vice versa. 

You two were 17. The stress of transitioning into seniors got to you both, and it wasn’t like you two didn’t hold any more love for each other — it was just skating that had taken the little time you had away from each other. 

But you two are older now. 21 years of age, no longer new to seniors, with a collection of medals stored in boxes in your rooms. So maybe, you two could make things work.

Riki lets you walk into the FamilyMart first, following you to the section that has ready made meals. Riki takes one of the salmon onigiris, while you take a ham and cheese sandwich. You check the expiry date as you follow Riki to the drinks section, the boy picking out 2 bottles of coffee. 

“One for you, one for me.” he says, holding one of the bottles out for you. He knows which one you like. He always did, and it doesn’t seem to have changed throughout the years.

“Thanks,” you say, grinning at him. 

You both head to the cashier to pay, the kind lady giving you a smile as you hand her the money. She bids you both goodbye before you two leave the store with 1 white plastic bag, storing the food and drinks that you two had both bought.

“The train is arriving soon. We should head to the platform,” Riki says, checking his phone. “That’s perfect. We got everything we needed in time!” you say, and he nods. 

“Doing anything special for your return?” Riki asks as you both step into the escalator, and you shrug. “I’m not sure. Mom will probably surprise me, if there’s anything planned.” 

“That would be cute,” Riki says. “l don’t think my parents have anything planned. Bisco’s probably just going to look at me then turn away.” 

You let out a loud laugh at Riki’s words. “Wow, Bisco’s cruel.” 

The train arrives not long after, and Riki helps you put your suitcase in the overhead luggage rack. Riki shuffles into the window seat first — he knows you don’t like sitting there, but you’ve still yet to explain to him why that is the case.

You sit down next to him, taking out the headphones that Riki had gotten you for your 6 month anniversary. “You still use them?” Riki asks, glancing at the headphones.

“Of course. They’re good headphones.” 

He turns towards the window, a soft smile on his lips.

You tell Riki you’re going to sleep, and he nods. The boy pulls out his sketchbook and a pencil, flicking through its contents. There’s some drawings of the food he’s eaten. There’s one of Taki pulling a goofy face, and there’s one that he drew of his old broken skates.

A stark contrast to the sketchbook he owned when you two were together. Where all the drawings were ones of you.

He turns to look at you, who’s sleeping peacefully. 

You’re so pretty. You make Riki’s heart skip a beat. He takes off the coat he’s wearing, draping it over your body. The aircon in the train is cold — he doesn’t want you to shiver in your sleep. 

Unconsciously, a small smile spreads across his lips as he looks at you. If anyone was watching the scene, they would all say that Riki was looking at you with the softest look in his eyes, with nothing but adoration and love for you.

His feelings have never left. Riki has grown to accept that — but he doesn’t know if you feel the same. He’ll keep it quiet for now, or as long as it takes. Riki can’t lose you again.

He would rather be just friends than not having you in his life at all.

Life is more vibrant with you in it. To Riki, you are the sun. You always have been. You light up every room you enter. Your smile is infectious — just the sight of it makes the corners of Riki’s lips quirk up. You brighten up his day every time he sees you, without fail. 

He gently brushes your hair out of your eyes. 

Something about that simple action is filled with so much love. Riki supposes he can’t tell you about how he feels at the moment, in fear of making things awkward again, so he will settle for this.

He’ll tell you that he loves you quietly. So quietly that you might not even notice. 

Riki helps you fix the ponytail in your hair the best he can without waking you up, and he hums as he ties the elastic band around your hair. 

He then returns to his sketchbook, drawing things like the medal that he had just earned, the view from outside the window, and the onigiri that he had bought with you at FamilyMart. 

And one sketch of you that he hides in the back of his book.

You’re asleep for the majority of the train ride. Riki taps you on the shoulder when you two have arrived at Okayama, and you crack one eye open at him when you’re awake. Riki smiles — something about your expression when you wake up is just so endearing to him. 

“We’re here?” 

“Yeah.” Riki says, taking his coat that’s been draped on top of your body. “You looked cold, so.”

“Thanks.” you say, smiling gratefully at him.

You grab your bag, getting up from your seat so Riki can leave as well. He helps you get your suitcase as well, and you two leave the train together, and he waits for you to tap your card on the reader once again.

“Are your parents picking you up?” you ask him, and he nods. “They should be here.” he says, looking around the train station.

“That’s nice.” you say. “I think my mom’s coming too.”

“Tell her I said hi,” Riki tells you, and you nod. “Of course I will. I think she still has lunch with your mom once a week, or something.” you chuckle.

“Ah, right. Mom has mentioned that a couple of times.” Riki laughs. He then seems to spot his family, and a bright smile spreads across his lips. “They’re here. I gotta go… I’ll see you soon?” 

“Of course.” 

You don’t seem to notice how Riki fixed your hair a little bit for you while you were sleeping on the train. He smiles at you before bidding you goodbye.

You turn to watch him run to his family, a small smile on your lips at the sight. Riki doesn’t leave the station before turning back to look at you. 

And with that, the moon waves goodbye to his sun.

ELEVEN. rinkside

Like Riki had anticipated, Bisco simply looks at him before turning away when Riki walks in through the door.

“Well.” Konon says, as Riki looks at his dog with a pout on his lips. “Bisco doesn’t even care about me!” Riki says, placing his bag on the couch.

“He’s side-eyeing you.” 

“He’s always side-eyeing everyone.” 

Konon nods, agreeing with her younger brother’s words. Bisco does have what one might call a permanent judgemental stare. 

Riki flops down onto the couch, Konon sitting down next to him as Bisco wanders off to… wherever he’s going. Probably to stare out the window to get a glimpse of the neighbour’s dog.

“So… you and (Name) came back together?” Konon asks, and Riki nods, grabbing the remote control for the television from the coffee table.

“We were at 4 Continents together. Plus, she’s staying in Nagoya for a bit to train before Worlds — it’s easier than going back to Canada. Their coach Seungmin’s staying with a friend, and Keiji’s staying with his friend too.” Riki explains, clicking onto Netflix.

“I see,” she hums. “I didn’t know you guys started talking again.”

“It’s recent.” 

“What’s recent?” Riki’s mom asks, exiting the kitchen. She looks at her son with a curious look on her face, even though Riki’s pretty sure his mom heard small pieces of his conversation with Konon, and there’s no doubt in his mind that she saw Riki with you at the train station.

“Riki and (Name) are talking again.”

“Don’t say it like that!” Riki says, lightly elbowing his sister. Pink tints his cheeks, and Konon immediately notices.

“What do you mean to not say it like that? You two are talking, am I wrong?” she laughs, and Riki groans.

“The way you worded it is…” Riki trails off, embarrassed. “Whatever. Doesn’t matter.”

“That’s nice. I liked (Name),” Riki’s mom says, a knowing smile on her lips. No matter how badly Riki’s trying to hide it, she knows about her son’s lingering feelings for you, and so does everyone else. 

At the sound of your name, Bisco barks.

He really does play favourites, Riki thinks. 

“I know you did, Mom,” Riki chuckles. “She told me to tell you that she said hi.” 

“That’s kind of her. Tell her I said hi too.” 

“So, what’d you guys do?” Konon asks, and Riki shrugs. “We didn’t have much time to… you know… hang out between the events. We had lunch first, with everyone on the team. That’s how I saw her after 4 years of no contact.” 

“Oh, and then I went to watch her practice with Taki and everyone else. She did really well. Then, I kinda got a little sick, so she brought me tissues, cold medicine, soup — the ones that she knows I like — and lozenges.” Riki purposely leaves out the part where you two kissed. His family doesn’t need to know about that. In fact, he thinks that his sister would rather not know, even if he was willing to share. Konon would probably pretend to throw up, and his mom would definitely tease him about it for the rest of his life. His dad would laugh for hours, and Bisco would just stare at him with that judgemental look of his.

Riki continues rambling about spending time with you at 4 Continents while his mother and sister share a knowing look. “Oh, then we went to grab something to eat, and I got this strawberry cake, like old times, when we used to go to Mrs Kimura’s shop after practice. We have plans to do that again when we return to Nagoya. We had a lot to catch up on, so… yeah. Seeing her again was really fun.” 

Konon chuckles. “Sounds like you had a really nice time at 4 Continents with (Name). You even forgot to tell us about that medal of yours.” 

Konon has always liked you and Riki together. You both were incredibly similar, both loud and mischievous. You and Riki could talk about anything and everything for hours and hours and not get bored, and Konon would simply just watch in awe — she didn’t understand how two people could talk this much and not even feel tired. In fact, before you two started dating, Riki had complained multiple times when he had to leave the rink, because he wanted to talk to you more than he already had.

Konon remembers how Riki would call you his sun. And how you’d call him your moon. 

She also remembers when you and Riki would have movie nights in this exact house, on this exact couch. She’d walk into the living room to get a late night snack, and see Riki’s arms wrapped around you, your bodies covered by a warm blanket. 

You made Riki happy.

As a good sibling, that is all she wants for Riki in his life. Happiness. 

Konon can see how happy Riki is when he skates a completely clean program. She can see how happy Riki is when he gains a new personal best score. She can see how happy Riki is when he earns a medal.

But the happiest she’s ever seen Riki is when he’s with you.

So with the way Riki’s talking about the short amounts of time he was able to spend with you at that competition makes Konon feel like yours and Riki’s story isn’t over yet. The glimmer in his eye returning, the way he’s smiling the entire time when he’s talking about the moments he shared with you,  and the excitement in his voice as he details every moment tells her that her brother is still incredibly in love with you.

She hopes that he realises it. Or has already realised it. 

But she knows Riki is too cautious, too worried that he’ll make a mistake when it comes to you. She doesn’t want him to just stand on the rinkside, constantly overthinking every move he makes when it’s related to you. So she figures that someone will have to give him a little push.

Before 4 Continents, Konon has heard her brother’s constant complaints about how he’s the only one in the family who hasn’t found love yet. But it’s clearer to her now than ever that Riki has always been the first one to find his person. 

Words like how the universe might just simply not want him to fall in love, words like how maybe he’s not made for the thing called love. 

But, the universe decides that it is the right thing to do to bring you and Riki back together. It has been too cruel to you both over the past couple of years — pushing the idea of knowing that you might’ve just lost your chance with the one and being left to wonder if you’ll find someone that can make you feel love the same way that person did. 

But, the universe now decides to bring the sun and the moon back together.

One of them just has to take the first step.

TWELVE. on ice / off ice matchmakers 

Riki doesn’t see you at all during his time in Okayama.

You two both don’t take the same train back as well, since Riki left for Nagoya a little earlier than you’re planning to. He texted you, asking if you were going to be on the train that day, and you replied with a ‘no’ and a sad face emoji. 

You told him that you’d be staying a bit longer to spend more time with family, considering you hadn’t seen them in months. He tells you to have fun, and that he’ll see you back in Nagoya. You reply with a thumbs up and a heart emoji.

He can’t believe that his face heats up because of a stupid heart emoji. Riki thinks that he’s even more in love now than he was then, and maybe it’s because of a mix of those old, lingering feelings with the addition of the new ones that he’s developed over 4 Continents — the point is, Riki is crazily in love with you.

Riki returns to the rink with the thought of you on his mind. He sees Keiji there as well, alongside his coach Seungmin. Hikari doesn’t seem to be here yet, and neither does Taki.

“Hey, Riki!” Keiji says, skating up to the boards. “How was Okayama?” 

“It was good. Spent some time with my family, chilled at home, witnessed my dog try to court the neighbour’s dog, you know, normal stuff.” 

“Your dog is trying to court another dog? Also, what’s with the sudden use of formal language?” Keiji asks, laughing loudly at the fact that Bisco is trying to romance another dog.

“I didn’t know how else to word it? Is saying that my dog is trying to date another dog a better way of putting it?” 

“I can’t believe Bisco’s pulling before me,” Keiji says, sighing. “Oh, and I almost forgot to ask. Did you spend any time with (Name)?” 

Keiji wiggles his eyebrows at him, and Riki just looks at him, unamused. “No. I didn’t.” he replies, and Keiji gasps dramatically. “No way. Riki, what?” 

“(Name) was spending time with her family. I’m seeing her here anyways — I don’t want to take away time that she could’ve spent with them while she’s there.” he explains, sitting down on the bench to put on his skates.

“Okay, that makes sense, I guess.” 

“You seem very hellbent on trying to get me and (Name) back together.” Riki hums as he finishes lacing up his skates. “Look, she’s great. And I… hmm. The thing is, if she doesn’t feel the same way anymore, then it’s not going to happen.” 

“Are you indirectly saying that you’re still in love with her?” 

Riki doesn’t say anything as he takes off his skate guards and skates out onto the ice. 

“Riki! Riki!” Keiji calls out after him, trying to catch up to him. “It’s a yes or no question, it’s just one word, come on, man!” 

“You’ll figure that out.” 

“That’s a yes?” 

Riki doesn’t say anything once more, and Keiji takes his silence as an answer. 

Oh, Keiji is so incredibly excited. Knowing that Riki still likes you and also knowing that your feelings for Riki have never left (despite you denying it constantly) has opened up so many new doors for him to come up with a scheme to get you and Riki back together. 

Keiji usually wouldn’t meddle in his friends’ relationships – that’s more of Taki’s thing, but like Konon, he knows that without a little push, you two would never do anything about it. Keiji would hate to see you both just deciding to let your feelings for each other slowly melt away when he knows that you two are practically perfect for each other. 

Keiji’s coach, Seungmin, looks at him with a curious expression, wondering why his student looks so excited suddenly. 

Seungmin had started coaching you and Keiji when you both moved to Canada. He and his pairs partner Yeji had recently retired, with Yeji wanting to pursue a different path away from the ice, and Seungmin wanting to transition to coaching.

“What are you so excited about?” Seungmin asks when Keiji skates back to the boards. “You know how Riki and (Name) used to date, right?” 

Seungmin nods. Keiji has been talking about it constantly after 4 Continents, and since he wasn’t coaching you and Keiji yet at the time when you and Riki were together, he is quite intrigued about why the whole team wants you both back together.

“Riki still likes her. Maybe even loves her? Not sure. But I swear (Name)‘s been secretly hung up on her relationship ever since they broke up — she’s just made herself so busy to the point where she could forget about it. Plus, they didn’t break up because they didn’t love each other anymore, they did it because skating got in the way!” 

“And you think skating won’t get in the way for them now?” 

“No? They’ve both matured. They can find that healthy work-life balance.” Keiji says, and Seungmin tilts his head. “You do know that Riki lives here, in Nagoya, and we train in Montreal, all the way over in Canada.” 

“Long-distance!” 

“What are you guys talking about?” Taki asks, walking up to them, and a wide grin immediately spreads across Keiji’s lips. 

Taki is quite literally known as the matchmaker in the group. It’s incredible how he can pick up on people’s feelings for one another even with just one interaction with the smallest hint of interest. Riki jokingly says that it’s because he has nothing to do better with his life, but Keiji thinks that it’s a gift from whoever’s above. 

“Your friend and his ex.” Seungmin tells him.

“What about Riki and (Name)?” he asks, a mischievous smile on his lips. He looks at Riki, practising his twizzles on the rink. “Is he finally not in denial about liking (Name)?” 

Keiji adds mind reader to Taki’s list of gifts.

“Yes. You must know him very well.” Seungmin says, and Taki nods. “I’ve witnessed every single part of their relationship. The beginning, the end, and now, finally, the return.” he says, feeling very proud.

“We should try and get them back together.” 

“But Kazuha said that they’ll probably get back together on their own. I feel like my magical matchmaking services aren’t needed in this case,” Taki says, sitting down on the bench. “What a rare thing to say, I know. I think we just have to get (Name) out of her denial phase, and they’ll both just tell each other. They love each other too much to keep that a secret.” 

Taki not meddling in a relationship for once? Keiji is surprised.

“You’re right.” Seungmin says. “Just sit back and watch for a bit, maybe. Then we can see how to go from there, right?” 

“We? Coach, do you wanna be part of the plan?” Keiji asks, shocked at his coach’s response. He didn’t expect Seungmin to even agree with him meddling in your love life, much less wanting to get involved with getting you and Riki back together.

“(Name) deserves to be happy,” Seungmin shrugs. “You guys seem to think that he makes her very happy. Plus, I used to be quite the matchmaker a long time ago, back when I was in college.”

“That was like 5 years ago. Why are you talking like you’re 45?” 

Seungmin rolls his eyes. “Shush, Keiji. When (Name) gets back, they’ll probably spend more time together. When we’re not training for Worlds, at least.” 

“You’re right.” 

“Hey Riki?” Taki calls out. “Yeah?” Riki replies, skating closer towards the three near the boards. “Are you planning to see (Name) anytime soon? Like after she comes back?” 

“Yeah, why? She’s going to be training here anyways. She wants to go get strawberry cake at Mrs Kimura’s after practices.” Riki replies, brushing his hair out of his eyes. 

Riki smiles at the thought of seeing you again. The three matchmakers standing near the boards, however, are smiling for a different reason.

THIRTEEN. skate guards

You arrive in Nagoya 2 days later. 

Riki’s eyes light up when he sees you enter the rink, and it does not go unnoticed by Taki and Hikari. Taki silently giggles to himself, and Hikari just looks at you, before looking at Riki again.

Hikari has never said anything about your relationship with Riki, not even when you two were dating. The woman is also impossible to read, so Riki never knew if she approved of his relationship with you. She’d only scold him for being late, and saying that dates weren’t excuses to skip out on practice.

But he knew that Hikari didn’t dislike you. 

“Hey!” you say, skating up to Riki. “Hey, how was your trip back?” he asks, giving you a side hug. Taki and Keiji give each other one of those looks, whispering amongst themselves, as Seungmin just watches your interaction from afar.

“It was nice! I actually bumped into your sister yesterday,” you chuckle, and Riki widens his eyes. Oh gosh, he really hopes Konon didn’t tell you about how he was basically rambling on and on about spending time with you at 4 Continents. “Don’t worry! She didn’t say anything bad. She just said congrats on the medal, and that the next time we’re both back our families should go and grab dinner together.” you say, noticing Riki’s alarmed expression.

Riki lets out a sigh of relief, and you look at him with an amused expression. “What, you thought she’d say something else?” 

“No, no. I was worried she’d say something strange.” 

“Like what?” 

“Nothing.” 

Riki says the word with such quickness that it makes you a little suspicious, but you brush it off. “So… how was your trip? I didn’t get to spend time with you then, so I figured you must be busy with family.” 

“It was good. Bisco has been trying to romance Fudge. I’m unsure if it’s working,” Riki chews on his bottom lip as you laugh. “And I thought you were busy with family, so…” 

“It’s okay. At least we get to see each other now,” you say, beaming.

His heart just does a strange flip, and his cheeks feel hot, face tinting pink all the way up to the tip of his ears. He blames the cold instead of your words. 

“Yeah. We can go get strawberry cake after this?” he asks you, and you nod. “Of course. I’ll go get practicing now, since Keiji just seems to be… staring at us. Then we can maybe go get strawberry cake around… 3?” 

“Of course. It’s a date.” 

Riki then skates off, leaving you with your face feeling hot this time. It’s a date? You know he means that he agrees to the time that you’ve set for going to Mrs Kimura’s shop to get cake, but you know that it can also mean something very different.

You wish that he meant it in a different way. 

You have been in denial about your feelings for Riki for a while now. The signs are all there — from thinking nonstop about the kiss, to his words and his actions making your heart flutter like it used to. 

Oh, you realise. You still love Riki.

You don’t want to leave everything in the past. You want to continue where you two had left off 4 years ago. You want to hold Riki like you used to, hug him like you used to, kiss him like you used to.

You want things to go back to the way they were before.

You stand there in the middle of the rink, eyes following Riki’s figure as he skates across the rink, doing a gorgeous layback Ina Bauer as your heart thumps faster and faster. 

Maybe things could all work out now. Just maybe.

You gulp, hand touching to feel your cheeks — they’re warm, and you tell yourself to snap out of it. You should hurry up with skating so you can go and spend more time with Riki.

You skate up to the boards, and Seungmin looks at you with a small smile on his lips. “So… Riki, huh?”

“Coach, come on. I wanna focus.” 

“I was just asking! And yes, let’s focus.” he says, and you nod. “Keiji, get over here! Stop whispering to Taki.” 

Keiji sighs, telling Taki that he’ll talk to him later. He skates up to you both, hands on his hips. “What are we doing today?” 

“Everything, Keiji. It’s Worlds in less than a month, and we want that medal.” you tell him, and Keiji nods. “Come on, let’s go.” 

You and Keiji skate away from the boards, and as you fiddle with the hair tie on your wrist, Keiji asks you about what you and Riki were talking about. 

You immediately shake your head, saying that it’s nothing important with a soft smile on your lips. “Let’s focus now.” you say. You want to keep your conversations with Riki a little more private now, considering how you know that Keiji is prone to telling everything related about you and Riki to Taki. 

During the practice, you don’t miss Riki’s occasional glances at you. When you catch him looking, he simply gives you a thumbs up, telling you that you’re doing great. 

You thank him quietly, as Keiji struggles to hide the cheeky grin on his lips.

You also don’t miss Hikari telling Riki to focus on his own practice instead of yours as you and Keiji twizzle across the ice. There’s a soft smile on your lips at her words, for some reason. 

Practice goes smoothly for Riki, for the most part. He does fall a couple times on a few quads, but during the final runthrough of his program for the day, he lands them all cleanly. Hikari gives him a nod in satisfaction, telling him that he did well. Riki thanks her, and she gives him a close-lipped smile.

He exits the rink, putting his skate guards back on. He spots your purple ones placed on the bench. You still use the same ones as 4 years ago. 

“Um, Seungmin? Could you tell (Name) I’ll be waiting for her? I’m just going to get changed.” he tells your coach, who nods. “Of course. Have fun.” 

Have fun getting changed?

It doesn’t register in Riki’s mind until he’s in the dressing room a few minutes later that Seungmin means that Riki should have fun spending time with you.

Riki exits the changing room after spraying some cologne on, changed into a hoodie and a pair of jeans. You’re the one putting on your skate guards now, and you tell him that you won’t be long.

He nods, waiting patiently next to the vending machine as he sees you disappear into the women’s changing room. You appear a few minutes later in a fresh change of clothes, smiling at him.

The sight of you makes his heart skip a beat.

“So… should we go?” 

“Of course. Let’s go.” he says. He bids goodbye to Seungmin, Hikari, and Keiji — Taki is nowhere to be seen, for some reason. 

You and Riki leave the rink together, leaving your bags at the rink since you two would come back later anyways. The walk to Mrs Kimura’s shop doesn’t take too long, since it’s just across the street. You haven’t seen the kind lady in years.

Riki pushes open the door, letting you enter first.

“Welcome!” the voice of Mrs Kimura makes you smile, and as you approach the counter, the old lady seems to recognise you. “Oh my. Is that (Name)?” 

“Long time no see, Mrs Kimura!” you say, smiling brightly at her. Mrs Kimura walks around the counter, approaching you to give you a warm hug. “I haven’t seen you in ages! Oh, and Riki’s here as well! I didn’t know that you two got back together. That’s so sweet.” 

“Oh, we’re not together, Mrs Kimura.” you say, chuckling awkwardly. Riki nods, and Mrs Kimura lets out a small ‘oh’.

“Well, sorry for misunderstanding.” she laughs, and you shrug. “It’s quite alright. You did see us come here often when we were together.” 

“Yes, I did. You two were adorable together.” she beams. “So, the usual for you both? Strawberry cake?” 

“Of course. That’s very kind of you for still remembering.” you say. “Riki still comes here often, after practice. Just you know, without you around.” Mrs Kimura says, looking at Riki, who’s gone to sit at the table closest to the window. That table was where you two would always sit whenever you came here.

“Oh, I see.” you say. 

“He seems to have missed you quite a bit, over the years. I would ask about you, and he’d just tell me he didn’t know with this sort of… sad look on his face.”

You didn’t know Riki felt that way.

“But I’m glad you and Riki are talking again.” she says, as she cuts two slices of the strawberry cake. She places them on small plates, pushing them towards you. “Free of charge today.” 

“Oh, Mrs Kimura, no. I’ll pay.” you say, and the lady shakes her head. “No, no, no. Just seeing you again after a long time is enough. I have missed seeing you almost every day, you know.” she replies.

“I’ve missed seeing you every day as well. And thank you so much, Mrs Kimura.” you say.

“He’s looking at you.” she whispers to you.

“Hmm?”

“I think he really likes you.” 

You smile, looking back at Riki. “I think I really like him too.” 

FOURTEEN. when the ice melts 

As the World Championships inches closer, you and Riki find yourselves training more intensely each day.

The only time that you two can spend together without being stressed about preparations for Worlds is at Mrs Kimura’s shop, ordering 2 slices of strawberry cake like usual. You and Riki talk about everything but skating, such as Riki giving you updates on how Bisco’s mission on trying to romance Fudge is going. 

According to his mother, it seems to be going well. 

“Bisco is going to get a girlfriend before you do.” Taki says, taking a sip out of his water bottle. 

Riki glares at your pairs partner. “Actually, I have exes.” 

“Correction, you have one ex. Who just so happens to be standing next to you.” Taki gestures to you, who’s awkwardly standing there. You opt to give a thumbs up with an uncomfortable smile, making Taki burst out in laughter. “Yes… us… exes!” you say, and Riki copies your action, awkwardly giving Taki a thumbs up as well. 

Taki laughs even louder. 

“You guys are funny,” Seungmin says, placing his bags down. “Where’s Keiji?” 

“Not here yet,” you say. “I’ll just practice some solo jumps?” 

Seungmin nods, telling you that it’s a good idea. You tell Taki and Keiji you’ll get practicing before skating off, leaving the two boys and Hikari standing near the boards. “So… are you going to tell her?” Taki asks Riki, and the younger boy looks at him, feigning confusion. 

“Tell her what?” 

“That you like her.” Taki says, as the two boys watch you skate around the rink, before taking off into a triple loop. “What do you mean?” Riki asks. 

“Don’t play dumb with me, Riki. I’ve been stuck with you since we were both 3 years old.” Taki nudges the younger boy, who doesn’t say anything. “I’m really not going to meddle with your love life this time. I swear. I know you and (Name) will get together on your own, so… I’m stepping away.”

“You’re acting as if being a matchmaker is your job, Taki.” Riki chuckles, and Taki shrugs. “It’s my part time job. I’m a full time figure skater, mind reader, and a part-time matchmaker.” 

“Mind reader?” Riki questions.

“Yeah. I’m reading your mind right now, and your mind is telling me that you like (Name), but you’re too scared to tell her because you don’t want to screw things up all over again.” 

Riki flips Taki off, who gasps, feigning offence. Riki despises how Taki knows him so well. Or maybe that Riki just isn’t doing the best job at hiding it. 

“I don’t… what?” 

“Riki, it’s just me. You can be honest with me.” 

“You’re probably going to tell (Name) like you did all those years ago. Look, Taki — I don’t think it’s a good idea this time.” Riki sighs.

“Explain what you mean, Riki.” 

“I… don’t think I should tell her how I feel,” Riki confesses. “Not only is it too early, but also, there’s a multitude of other factors that just tells me that if I confess, things might not turn out the way we want them to again. She lives all the way in Canada, I live here — our lives revolve around skating all day, and with the 13 hour time difference too, I don’t think a romantic relationship can survive all that, even if she likes me back. Plus, we’ve just started being friends again. Look… I would rather have her as a friend, than lose her completely.” 

“Riki, but you really like her.” 

“I know.” Riki sighs. “I always will.”

“But relationships are complicated. Love is complicated, even more so for people like us who dedicate our lives to our sport. I just don’t want to lose (Name) once again. Because at 4 Continents, I finally realised how empty life seemed without her in it. Those 4 years separated her were, no offence to you, and everyone else around, but less… vibrant, in a way. And now that we’re back in each other's lives… I don’t want to go back to how uninteresting and boring life was before.” he muses. Taki listens to him intently, his lips slightly downturned into a frown.

“Plus,” Riki chuckles. “I don’t even know if she likes me back.”

“Of course she does, Riki. What are you even saying? She looks at you as if you’re her entire world.” Taki says, and Riki smiles slightly. “That is a nice thing to say. I would like to get back together with her, if she did like me back.” 

“But if not, I would rather things between (Name) and I to stay like this instead of… you know.” 

Riki doesn’t know that you hear him say those exact words as you skate by the two boys. You didn’t hear the parts they said before, but you sure did hear what Riki said about wanting things to stay the same.

“What do you mean by you know?” Taki asks.

“Seriously, man? I would rather things stay like this rather than having no relationship at all. I thought it was clear, considering everything else I had said earlier.” 

But to you, it is not clear at all. Without context of Taki and Riki’s previous conversation, you’re left thinking that you were wrong.

Riki really doesn’t like you back. 

You feel your heart shatter a little at his words. You held up the tiniest bit of hope, and all this came crashing down with just one sentence from the boy’s lips.

But really, what did you expect? He told you that he agreed that it was a spur of the moment kiss at the hotel. He agreed to leave it all behind, and it seems like he held up on his part of the deal.

However, you didn’t. 

Nishimura Riki twizzles right into your heart once again and ends up breaking it. 

You should’ve expected this to happen. Falling for your ex boyfriend after only a couple of weeks of talking again? Sounds like a recipe for disaster. You were just stupid and foolish enough to think that maybe you and Riki could be a thing again, and look where it got you.

You try to rid your mind of the thought. It doesn’t hurt this bad. The breakup didn’t hurt like this. I should be fine.

To forget about the words that Riki had said, you decide to just focus on practicing your solo jumps. Keiji still hasn’t gotten here, and for once, you actually want to confide in him. 

You then take off into a triple flip.

His words must’ve messed with your mind a little. You’re not as focused as you usually are, which is to be expected — so your body makes an impact with the cold, hard, ice.

Every fall hurts a little bit.

This one hurts a little more than usual.

When Riki sees you fall, he immediately skates over to you. “(Name), you okay?” he asks, worry laced in his tone. Somehow, him skating over to help you back up makes your heart twinge a little. 

“Yeah. I’m okay.” you murmur, and Riki holds out his hand for you to take so he can pull you back up. You take his hand, and butterflies erupt in your stomach — even if you tell them to stop.

Riki doesn’t like you back, you tell yourself. He’s just really nice. He’s always been really nice. That’s why you fell for him in the first place. 

“Careful,” he says, as you give him a smile that doesn’t really quite reach your eyes. Riki’s able to read you like he used to now, and he can tell that you’re not quite happy with something. “Yeah. I will. Thanks.” you say, before skating off, leaving Riki confused.

You were okay before. Did he do something wrong? Were you upset because you fell on the flip? 

He skates back to Taki with a confused expression on his face. “(Name) seems upset.” he frowns, biting on the inside of his cheek. “Maybe it’s because she fell on the flip.” 

“Maybe…” Riki trails off. But he knows you well enough to know it’s not that. Sure, you’d be a little disappointed, but you wouldn’t usually let it show on your face. 

“Boys. Let’s get practicing.” Hikari says, and the two nod. Keiji just so happens to arrive, and you sigh in relief. “You’re here!” Riki hears you say as he pulls his black gloves onto his hands.

As Riki practices, he tries to not think about your upset expression. But, Riki is an overthinker — he just can’t help it. He hopes that maybe he’ll be able to lift your mood a little bit later, but the thought of you being upset distracts him a little, and Hikari notices.

Of course she would. She notices everything. 

And when Riki lands a quadruple salchow shakily, Hikari decides to call him over.

“Is something distracting you? What’s on your mind today?” she asks him.

Riki looks at his coach, a little shocked. She never usually asks him about personal stuff. “No, it’s just… forget it. I’m sorry.” Riki says, and Hikari shakes her head. “Don’t lie to me, Riki. Worlds is in a few weeks, and I don’t want anything stressing you out because it’ll hinder your performance. Just tell me.” 

Riki turns his head to look at you and Keiji, and Hikari understands immediately.

“Are you still in love with your ex girlfriend?” 

“Coach, I…” 

“It’s very obvious, Riki. Why is that bothering you then?” she asks. Riki sighs, rubbing the nape of his neck. “Because she seems upset. And I can’t help but wonder if I did something that made her feel that way.” 

“Did you say anything?” 

“I don’t think so. I wouldn’t want to say anything that would hurt her feelings, considering that I do like her.”

“Then you’re fine. Focus on skating. I can help you handle this.” Hikari says, and Riki looks at his coach, shocked. “What?” she asks.

“You’ve never talked to me about anything regarding my personal life. I’m just not used to this at all.” he confesses, and Hikari shrugs. “I’ve been your coach for the majority of your life. I pick up things that you don’t notice until later. Such as how when I knew immediately that you and (Name) would be together after you two started talking at Junior Nationals that year.” 

“Oh,” Riki says. “I just… I don’t know. I like her a lot, but skating seems to get in the way.” 

“You both need to find that work-life balance. As a coach, I should be telling you that skating is the most important. But, your relationships with others are just as important, and if you love her as much as you do, you should keep your relationship with her as a priority as well.” 

“Okay.” Riki breathes out. 

“Now get back to practice. I’ll talk to (Name) later.” 

FIFTEEN. compulsory figures 

Nagai Hikari has always intimidated you.

Riki’s coach stands at 5’1, but she is incredibly scary for some reason. The lady has a straight face almost 90% of the time, and you remember the times where she’d scold you and Riki for being late to practice with pure anger on her face. Of course, you understood why she was so angry, but that didn’t take away how frightening she was to you.

So when she asks you to talk after your practice is over, you’re a little bit scared.

Riki is somehow nowhere to be seen. He left the rink a little while ago, disappearing into the changing rooms — and you don’t think you’ve seen him leave, but you also don’t know where he is.

You know Riki isn’t that cruel to go to Mrs Kimura’s shop without you, so maybe he’s still in the changing rooms, or he’s gone off to somewhere else when you were too busy practising to notice.

“Um, what’s this about, Ms Nagai?” you ask her, as she pats the seat next to her, motioning for you to sit down. “Riki tells me you’re upset.” 

You don’t know why his coach is telling you this, but you stay and listen.

“Um… I suppose so. Why’d he tell you?” 

“He was distracted during practice today,” Hikari hums. “I figured it might be because he’s thinking about you.” 

Your face heats up a little after hearing Hikari’s words. “And… why would he be thinking about me?” 

“Because he loves you.”

Hikari gets straight to the point.

“That can’t be right,” you chuckle awkwardly. “I just overheard him saying to Taki that he likes how things are between me and him, and… he’d rather it stay like that then… you know.” 

“Did he say what the ‘you know’ was?” the lady asks you.

“No?” 

“The ‘you know’ is not even being in contact with you at all. Riki is scared of losing you completely if he tells you how he feels.” Hikari tells you. “You should go tell him how you feel, because after hearing what Taki and Riki were talking about, I don’t believe he will be the one to make the first move.” 

“But how do you know that I still like Riki?” 

The lady looks at you as if the answer is obvious, because Hikari really can’t believe you had just asked her that — you and Riki have never been able to hide any sort of feelings that you had for each other. “You look at him the same way you did when you two were younger. Like he is everything to you. He looks at you the same way. Don’t lose him again. And don’t hurt him.” 

“He looks at me like that?” you ask her, and she nods.

“All the time. You just must have not noticed,” she says. You sigh, and Hikari frowns. “Why are you sighing? I just told you the words that you wanted to hear.” 

“No, I know, Mrs Nagai — it’s just hit me right now that even if Riki and I continue our relationship from 4 years ago, things will be even more complicated and hard. The time difference, the flights, everything will be harder than before, and we couldn’t even survive that.” 

“You two will make things work. You both love each other too much to not even give your relationship a second chance.” 

The lady gets up out of her seat before walking away, leaving you to register everything she’s told you in your short conversation with her. So you had just misunderstood. Nagai Hikari knows Riki very well, arguably better than some of Riki’s friends, considering how she’s literally watched him grow up.

She has watched you grow up too, with you and Keiji training at this exact rink just with a different coach. She had been there when your relationship with Riki had sprouted, blossomed, then wilted. 

Hikari’s silent observations prove to be useful to you. Riki loves you, she had said. Your heart fills with joy at the sound of that.

But now you know that you’re the one who needs to make the first move, and nervousness courses through your veins. The last and first time you’ve ever confessed to someone is after Taki had left it all out in the open. You two just whispered a meek ‘I like you a lot’, and then Riki asked you if you’d like to be his girlfriend.

You had said yes.

You don’t think the confession should go like that this time around. Your first confession lasted no longer than 5 minutes. Your first breakup lasted no longer than 5 minutes.

Love is special. It should be treated as such.

6 years ago, as a teenager and after Taki exposed your feelings for each other, you should have told Riki how crazily, stupidly in love he made you feel. You should’ve told him that every second, every moment you shared with him sparked this feeling of joy that you couldn’t possibly ever describe in any shape of form. You should’ve told him that there is nobody else in the world that you could ever imagine feeling this way for. 

And 4 years ago, after you both came to the realisation that things weren’t working out, you should’ve told Riki that you wanted to try and fix things. You should’ve told him that even though everything was going south, those short moments with him that you managed to squeeze into your busy schedule was the only time you felt like you were at peace.

You should’ve told him that despite everything, you still loved him.

So this time around, you’ll tell Riki all the words you never got to say during your first confession, and during your breakup. 

The words “I like you a lot” are not remotely enough to describe your feelings for Riki. You could write entire paragraphs about your feelings, and 5 words, 12 letters is nowhere near the length of a paragraph.

You get up from your seat, looking around to try and find Taki. When you do, you immediately run up to him, startling him a little bit. “Do you know where Riki is?” you ask him, and a sly smile spreads across his lips.

“You look like you’re in a hurry.” 

“I’m not.” 

“Okay. Well, he’s gone to see Rei. He says that she’s not feeling well.” 

“Ah,” you say, pulling out your phone. Sure enough, there are a couple messages from Riki. 

Rei’s throwing up, I think she ate something bad. Had to leave early to drive her to the doctor’s. I won’t be able to get strawberry cake with you at Mrs Kimura’s today, but I bought you a slice and dropped it off at Hinata’s apartment on my way to Rei’s. Hoping it lifts your mood a bit. See you tomorrow!

Knowing that Riki had even gone out of his way to buy you a slice of the strawberry cake and drop it off at Hinata’s apartment himself when he couldn’t go to the shop with you today makes you feel all warm and fuzzy inside.

You can’t believe you’ve found someone like Nishimura Riki.

“What are you smiling at?” Taki asks you, even though he already knows the answer. Don’t worry about it, and thank you for the cake! Hope Rei feels better soon, you write, before tapping send.

“You know the answer without asking, Taki.” you say, before grabbing your bags and leaving the arena.

You return to Hinata’s with a bright smile, strawberry cake waiting for you and your feelings for Riki stronger than ever.

SIXTEEN. in every universe, 1Lo<. 

Riki heads to the rink much earlier than he usually does on a Wednesday morning. 

He’s hoping to get in more practice time today, since his practice was abruptly cut by Rei getting food poisoning, leading to Riki needing to drive his cousin to the hospital. 

The streets of Nagoya are awfully quiet this early in the morning, and as Riki walks by empty streets with his headphones on, he quietly admires the city that he calls his home away from home.

The boy pushes past the doors of the arena, the cold air from the rink brushing against his face. It’s not possible for someone to be here this early in the morning — hell, he knows that even Hikari isn’t awake right now. 

The boy quietly places down his bags, pulling his skates out. He puts his skates on, placing his regular sneakers into a shoe bag that he stuffs into his skate bag. Riki finishes lacing up his skates, and he walks over to his locker, shoving his bags in there. 

Riki removes his skate guards before skating out onto the ice. 

The ice has never felt so comforting to Riki, especially during preparations for Worlds. Perhaps he should start practising much earlier than he usually does.

But then he hears the doors of the arena open, and he curiously looks towards the entrance to see who would possibly come here this early, other than him.

It’s you.

He doesn’t know why something so simple, such as you walking through the doors makes his breath hitch. Butterflies flutter in his stomach, and despite how cold the rink is, Riki has never felt so warm. 

You seem to spot him, and you hurriedly lace up your skates before skating onto the ice — seemingly not even bothering to put your skate bag away into your own locker.

“Morning,” you breathe out.

Riki doesn’t know how nervous you are.

“Morning.” Riki smiles at you, and just at the sight of his smile, you swear you fall in love with him all over again. 

“How’s Rei?” you skate beside him, and Riki shrugs at your words. “She’s doing okay, I think. Her friend Gaeul’s taking care of her, since she knows I’m busy preparing for Worlds. I should go and see her sometime soon though, just to check up.”

Riki seems to suddenly remember something. “Oh, did you get the cake?”

“Yes, I did!” you say with a wide grin and a bright twinkle in your eye. Warmth blooms across Riki’s chest at the sight of your joyful smile. He’s glad he’s the one who was able to make you smile like that. “I’m glad Hinata didn’t eat the cake.” 

“Me too.” 

Then there’s just silence between you and Riki. It’s not a comfortable silence, but it’s not awkward, either. It’s just you, trying to get yourself to muster up the courage to tell him what you’ve wanted to say to him, and Riki, sensing that you’re about to tell him something, but nothing seems to slip past your lips.

Riki decides that he doesn’t quite like the silence. “Are you okay from yesterday?” 

“Hmm?” 

“You seemed upset. I got worried.” he confesses, looking down at his skates. A tiny smile appears on your lips.

“I’m okay. It was just me overthinking.” 

“Do you want to talk about it?” 

Is this the right time? you ask yourself. You don’t know what exactly to say. All you know is your feelings towards Riki are so strong that you just can’t keep it a secret anymore. You don’t have a clearly thought out paragraph to tell him how you feel, you don’t have anything rehearsed — all you have are your feelings.

“I love you,” you blurt out.

You just hope that your feelings are enough.

Riki stops in his tracks. 

“I have never stopped loving you, and it’s killing me that I only realised a couple weeks ago. Less than 5 minutes seems like all the time we need to make major decisions regarding our relationship — but I don’t want 5 minutes. 5 minutes is too little for me to tell you how much I like you. It’s too little for me to tell you that even when we were 14 years old, with our eyes set on nothing but flashy titles and gold medals, I knew that you would be the only one that I could ever find myself having these types of feelings for. It’s too little for me to tell you that during those 5 minutes of our breakup, I should’ve gathered the courage to tell you to stay.” 

You take a step closer to him. “And I know that with my confession, I’ve opened up hundreds, even thousands of doors of problems that could happen in our relationship. Staying as just friends would and could have avoided all that — but I don’t want to be just friends. Hikari is right. I love you too much to not even try and give our relationship a second chance, and I… I don’t know. I suppose that I should tell you that I wish that I didn’t propose the idea to leave our relationship all behind when you kissed me at 4 Continents. I wish that I didn’t tell you that it was all just a spur of the moment thing — I wanted it to happen. And after it did happen, I wanted it to happen over, and over, and over again.”

“I don’t know. Perfection is everything that we have strived for,” you mumble. “Every day, we are told to execute certain things to perfection. And I know that we’ll never be as perfect as we are on the ice. But I don’t need perfection when I have you.” 

You pour your entire heart out. You’ve said every single possible thing that comes to mind, and your mind is now just blank. You don’t know what Riki’s going to say, what he’s going to do — all you know is that you could feel nothing but overwhelming joy in the next second, or overwhelming, crushing, heartbreak.

You can’t read Riki’s expression. He seems like he’s still trying to register all the words you had just said.

But then he tugs on the sleeve of your jacket. You look at him, confused — until you see the widest smile you’ve ever seen on Riki’s face.

“I love you too.” he beams, and you feel that overwhelming feeling of joy. You wrap your arms around him, burying your face in his chest to hide the stupid, lovestruck grin on your lips. 

You look at him, and Mrs Kimura is right. He does look at you as if you’ve got stars in your eyes. “I was scared to tell you how I felt. Because I was worried that you wouldn’t feel the same way — and I couldn’t lose you all over again,” he mumbles.

“You’ll never lose me.” 

Riki’s lips quirk up into a smile. “I didn’t want to forget about our shared history after the kiss. I guess that I’m just always too fearful to tell you how crazily in love I am with you.”

“I guess that makes us crazily in love with each other.” you whisper to him.

He nods, a breathy laugh escaping past his lips. Riki then leans in to connect your lips with his, and everything feels right. Everything has always felt right with you. The flavour of the minty lozenge from the kiss at 4 Continents is instead replaced with your strawberry flavoured chapstick, and Riki brings his hand up to slowly cup your cheek.

Your first confession was at this rink. Your breakup was at this rink. And now your second first confession and second first kiss is also at this rink. 

This time, everything is exactly the way you had imagined it. Nobody is there to interfere. No words have been left unsaid. This time, it is just you and Riki, and you know that perfect is not an ideal word to describe things, given how much pressure the word alone in a different context holds — but everything is perfect.

Riki doesn’t know if soulmates exist or not. But if he did have one, he knew it would be you. You both are like two missing puzzle pieces that match perfectly together — as if he was made for you, and you were made for him.

When you both pull away, Riki rests his forehead against yours. “I watched a movie a few days ago,” he whispers.

“What was it about?” 

“The multiverse,” he replies, lacing his hands with yours. “Hundreds and hundreds of different universes. And I thought to myself: in each and every universe, I would still want to find my way back to you.” 

Your heart swells to the point where you think it’s about to burst at the seams. “And I would always want to find my way back to you, too.” 

Nishimura Riki is yours, as much as you are his. He has never left your heart the second he twizzled his way into it, and you truly are surprised how it took you this long to accept it when everybody else (but Riki, too) had known that you two would eventually find your way back to each other.

Wherever you are in the world, I will search for you. 

And as Riki presses another kiss to your lips, he knows that love is no longer some sort of mystery he cannot figure out anymore. 

Riki realises that love isn’t as complicated as he thought. Love, to Riki, is you. It is the most simplest of definitions, and Riki knows the meaning will never change for him.

Riki may be still a quarter of a rotation off on that quadruple axel, but for love? Riki isn’t a quarter off at all anymore. 

He puts love on pause, because he will only ever press play when he finds his way back to you. Love is no longer far away, out of reach, and only something Riki can dream of experiencing anymore. He is with you, your hand in his — and everything is right. 

You twizzle your way right into Nishimura Riki’s heart all over again, and he knows you’ll stay there for a very, very long time.

[amymbona]

So I kinda had this au idea for sex therapist!Patrick but who specialises in treating people who find it hard to cum. But he's got this warm/confident/empathetic vibe, like what he loves most about his job is helping the men and women who come to him for guidance; who trust him to touch and tease their bodies, to just look at them and know what it takes to make them finally feel good. I dunno, I can just see Patrick putting his sex god powers towards helping and healing ❤️

THE GASP I JUST GASPED

Poor you :((( You're so ashamed of yourself, thinking all of the mistakes come from your side, that your body is just broken in some way, that you're the reason why none of your sexual partners were satisfied. And it breaks your heart honestly, 'cause you're afraid you won't be able to find a long term partner just because of this simple reason. You're aware sex is important in a relationship, and that it wouldn't be only your partners who remain unsatisfied - usually under the impression that you're not turned on enough by them to actually cum - but mainly yourself, unable to cum despite your raging arousal. And the worst thing is, you still don't know whether the mistake is really in you, or if you've just only been fucked by shitty men.

It takes a lot of courage for you to make an appointment at the Zweig clinic, as you're incredibly creeped out by the idea of opening yourself like that to some stranger. He sounds friendly on the phone, offering you a bunch of dates to choose from and just tells you not to worry, come in some comfy clothes, have a good breakfast in the morning, and that he will help you.

When you actually first step in, you're surprised to find a pretty domestic looking place. There's no waiting room, only a small corridor with one chair. It seems that doctor Zweig either has very little clients, or just manages to split them into so many appointments that they never overlap. You sit on the chair, one leg nervously bouncing as you wait for the door to open, really nervous what he will be like.

Doctor Zweig doesn't let you wait for long, his curly head peeking out of the door - "Welcome, it's so nice to meet you!" - and simply from the sight of his handsome face, you feel like you could cum. He's by far the most gorgeous man you have ever set your eye on, and suddenly you're almost sure why he is so successful.

He invites you in, insisting you call him Patrick and asks your name, then offers you a place to sit. "Would you like anything? A glass of water? Tea, coffee?" You leave the comfy looking sofa for him and plop down in a vintage looking arm chair as he goes to fetch you a glass of water. Soon, he returns with a smile and leisurely sits down, shooting one more smile in your direction.

You do the basic introduction when you tell him your name and age and then obviously the reason why you came. Patrick doesn't ask for your personal details at first, instead opting to tell you something about himself too. You learn he is nearing his thirties and has a fair share of sexual experience, that his biggest hobby is tennis and some other facts he considers important for you two to warm up.

For the whole time, you're struggling to keep your eyes off of him, drinking in the sight of his face. He's genuinely so handsome, like a god damn model, like he should be on the cover of some magazine. His eyes are so rich, shining at you like two expensive diamonds, and yet incredibly warm, compliment by a casual smile on his face. The curls on top of his head bounce lightly as he nods in response to your slurred words, patiently waiting for you to fully explain yourself. He allows you all the time you need, stating you're his only customer for today and so there's no need to rush. Your comfort, he says, is his priority.

Then, the personal questions begins. How many sexual partners have you had, all the positions you ever had sex in, which one usually makes you cum and do you ever come? Have you ever squirted? Does penetration work? So many questions that have you a blushing, sweating mess, almost making you want to cry. But Patrick is so sweet and kind, saying that it's completely natural, that nobody is judging you and you can talk to him as if he's just an old friend. This time, nothing serious happens and you two only make another appointment for next week, allowing you all the time in the world. When you're leaving, he asks whether you're feeling, in any way, aroused, stating it's important to know the effect he himself has on you. He gives you a homework as well, to come up with all the things that turn you on.

The next time you come in, you're wearing a pretty floral dress, as you're more afraid of him seeing you than really touching you. This way, if you two proceed to anything like that, it could all be hidden. Again, Patrick greets you with the usual smile, making your heart warm up, and invites you in. He sits you on the sofa, positioning himself next to you, and listens as you list all the things that excited you the most.

"I'm gonna touch you a bit, okay?" Patrick proposes and you nod, knowing that's the whole purpose of this predicament, so you can't really refuse.

He goes really slowly on you, so slowly and cautiously, that is actually leaves you surprised. First, his hand finds yours and he intertwines your fingers, inspecting the rings on your fingers and then the bracelets on your wrists. He kisses you on the cheek and throws one arm around you shoulders, easing you into his chest. He's so warm and smells good, it makes your head spin.

Then, Patrick finally kisses you on the lips, just lightly smooching the cherry taste of your lip stick, tasting you. He lets you kiss him back, allowing you to set the pace and intensity, engaging in your first make out session. His palm finds a place on your knee, just where your dress ends, but he doesn't dare slide under the fabric yet. Instead, his fingers lightly rub your knee and squeeze it.

When you begin responding more hungrily, your nose bumping into his messily, he pulls away. In front of him sits a cute, blushing girl, her pupils blown wide as she's unable to believe she's been kissed like that. Seriously, nobody has ever kissed you better than Patrick just did. And it's only the first kiss you two have shared. If he's supposed to fix your body in the most intimate ways, you can't even imagine what it would feel like when he proceeds further.

"I want you to set a pace. And a boundary. Okay? Don't just kiss me because you feel like you have to," he tells you, still massaging your knee gently, while he runs the fingers of his free hand through your hair. "Think of it as a real sexual experience, because it is. As if I was your boyfriend, doing all this with you."

You nod again, suddenly feeling shy of your actions. The sudden need you have for him. "Can I kiss you again?"

He lets you. He lets you kiss him and crawl onto his lap, to run your hands over his shoulder and tangle in the curls on the back of his neck. He allows you to touch him just as you please, discovering his body in your own way. When you hands keep roaming over his chest for too long, Patrick gently directs them to the top button of his shirt. "If you want to."

You take your time, slowly undoing the buttons on Patrick's shirt one by one, allowing for your palms to feel his skin. He's ripped muscles tight even when he sits so relaxed under you - probably the result of frequent tennis playing - and not so hairy either. All in all, he's warm and nice to touch.

Patrick notices the little falter of your breath as you stare at his body, and the gentle raise of your own chest, each and every breath passing through your mouth. The lipstick is a bit smeared from the messy intensity of your kisses and so he reaches up to wipe away the bit that remains on your chin, his touch gentle.

"You're so beautiful, Y/N," he whispers with full honesty, unable to tear his eyes off of your face. It's natural for Patrick to develop a bit of a relationship with his clients, his magic wouldn't work otherwise, but with you - such a pretty girl on his lap - he genuinely means it.

"Patrick," you sigh, lips parting as his finger slides over them.

"I want to make you feel good," he states in determination, his eyes glowing as he looks at you. "Will you let me?"

You let him. With his help, you sit with your back facing him, between his spread legs. Before your back could come to rest against his chest he stops you, and slowly slips down the straps of your dress. Shivers run down your spine at the gentle touch of his fingertips, feeling the softness of your skin. You have such a beautiful body, and he has only seen so little so far.

The top of your dress pools around your hips as he pulls you into his chest and his hands settle on your waist. There you rest, settled into the warmth of Patrick's body, eyes wide as you stare ahead, wondering if he can see your breasts over your shoulder. And you'd be really nervous if he could.

"I'm gonna touch," his whisper reaches your ear, the slow movements giving you time to reject his advances. But you don't.

Patrick's palms cup your breasts delicately, earning a small sigh from your pink lips, your own gaze slipping to see how good they fit in his hands. Almost as if he was made to holds them. He feels the weight in his hands before lightly squeezing, one more sound from your lips following. There, as you rest, Patrick begins gently kneading your breasts, squeezing the muscles and letting you get adjusted to the unusual intrusion.

The moment Patrick senses the ease in your posture, your shoulders slouching just barely and your head falling on his shoulder, he decides to proceed. Both of his thumbs roll over nipples, the touch so light but thoroughly felt. It makes you shudder and moan, the high pitched sound filling the room of his office.

No man has ever paid a generous amount of attention to your breasts, finding them just pretty to stare at in your low cut tops, but never enough to fondle or fully touch them. A kiss here and a violent tug on your nipple there, but that was all.

"Do you like it?" Patrick asks, his lips ghosting the shell of your ear.

"Yes," you nod.

"Woman's nipples are as sensitive as her clitoris, at most times, but many people fail to notice that," Patrick continues talking while still teasing your nipples delicately, earning a small sigh from your pink lips. This is, honestly, better that any soft of a dirty talk. Simply being told how exactly your body works while it's being touched at the most sensitive spots. That's thousand times better. "It's crucial that they are stimulated too, as it adds to the sexual experience and makes the whole act much more enjoyable."

"I-" you attempt to speak, but all that leaves your mouth are small gasps and moans. "I haven't really... No one ever pays attention."

But Patrick is. All his focus is glued to your sensitive, pink, pretty nipples and how the feel under his fingers. By all your reactions, he's well aware that it's making you feel good, better than just good. "That's okay, sweetheart, I am. Do you know a woman can orgasm purely as a result of nipple stimulation?"

Of course you don't know that. With all the attention your breasts have ever received, you barely know how they work. "N-no."

"I want you to know. To make you feel it. Will you let me?" he's determined. He wants to make you cum, not by fucking or fingering you. But simply by playing with your beautiful breasts and whispering sweet words into your ear, have you lay and pant against his chest, too shy to actually face him. He wants you exactly the way you are, that's how your first proper orgasm should be.

"Please."

That word is like a switch turned on for Patrick, stopping him from holding back. His lips mouth your neck, trace the path down your throat while his hand keep kneading your breasts, listening to your delicate moans that follow each time he deliberately brushes his fingers over your nipples. You're a perfect little patent, but you're also much more than that. A wonderful young woman with shattered sex appeal who's begging to be put back together, to be given the lacking confidence and shown how much fun sex can really be. You're all he needs for his work and he's all you need for your life.

Perhaps a part two? :3

[wayfaringhoax]

Plans

Summary: Javier Peña is slowly but surely becoming a thorn in your side. He just can't seem to leave you alone at work, and you're coming to realise that dismantling your plans is his top priority.

Word Count: 15k

SLOW BURN! You have been warned ...

Pairing: Javier Peña x Female Reader

Trope: Opposites Attract (work acquaintances that bicker like crazy)

Rating: Explicit. 18+ MDNI

Warnings: explicit sexual content (dirty talk, oral sex f-receiving, p in v), swearing, consumption of alcohol, mention of drug-related violence and death, angst, mention of overworking, bickering at work, bribing/trading favours at work, discussion of insecurities, talk of previous sexual partners. Slight dub-con with an unexpected kiss (on the cheek).

Author’s Note: This fic features a reader/OFC blend. She has a defined job and a particular personality, but she has no pre-assigned physical appearance.

I really hope you enjoy this! Please consider leaving a comment or reblogging if you liked this fic. It would mean the world to me !!

You have a method for these types of calls. The ones where an embassy associate or some other government official refused to accept what you were trying to tell them. It’s all about the tone of voice used; you must appear agreeable with a hint of ditsiness, just enough to remind whatever balding senior on the opposite end of the phone that you were a woman, and so, it was expected that things weren’t getting done properly. If it weren’t for misogyny, you’d have been yelled at more times than you could count.

God, and the pet names. It was as though these men believed sweet talking had the power to override all scheduling conflicts and put their names at the top of the list. You swear they are the reason why you never like when men call you “baby”, or “sweetheart”. The only thing it aroused in you was disgust.

As the American Ambassador to Colombia, your boss was in high demand, and as his personal assistant, you were extremely protective of his diary. And well, Crosby was revered for his expertise and military history, which caused all the other WASPs in your sector to swarm to him; eager to share a drink and talk politics with an American hero. 

Despite the fact your boss had no time to indulge them, having his hands full with more pressing matters - such as the alarming rise of drug-related violence in South America - they still blew up his phone constantly. Did these men not have wives to annoy, instead of you?

You lift your head at the sound of someone entering your office.

“Need your old man to sign this paperwork.” 

Not now. 

Javier. The man lives in his own little world, it seems. Can he not tell you’re currently occupied?

You raise a finger to your lips to shush him, before pointing at the phone pressed to your ear.

“What?” He mouths, moving closer to you. 

Rolling your eyes, you make a shooing motion with your hands. 

It doesn’t work, as he places the forms down in front of you, and when you think that’ll be it, you notice he’s leaning over your desk; eyes looking at you expectantly. 

You look up at him in disbelief. He’s grown far too accustomed to getting his own way with the women around here. You’ve seen the way he smolders; dipping his head down so his eyes appear irresistible when he gazes up at them, and of course, you couldn’t help but scoff at how he’d undo a few more buttons of his shirt, too. Sometimes, if he was wearing a long-sleeved shirt, he’d even resort to the sluttiest thing a guy could do: rolling the sleeves up. But, it hasn’t failed him yet.

Poor Colleen. She was about ready to hand over the embassy’s entire criminal database when Javier held her hand to admire her manicure. But it’s not going to work on you. 

You pull the phone away from your ear and press it to your chest, giving him a look that could kill.

“Javier, I’m on the phone.” You hiss. “You’ll have to wait.”

He huffs in annoyance before sinking back into the chair opposite you. You’re doing your best to stay focused as you rattle off a list of alternative dates, but Javier’s taken to toying with your belongings that are laid out on your desk. When you notice him holding a frame next to his face, raising his eyebrows as he points to the photo of your cat, you’ve just about had enough of his impatience. 

You attempt to snatch the object away from him, but he’s too quick for you; putting it back in its place before seizing your planner. 

“Mr. Cassidy, I can assure you. As soon as your funding is cleared, the ambassador will be in touch to discuss moving forward with the project.” You say whilst frantically making grabby hands at the man sitting across from you, hoping it will entice him into returning your most prized possession.

You have no such luck, as Javier appears perfectly content to browse the pages outlining your meticulous schedule, stopping every so often to nod his head or hum in amusement. You feel your ire rise at the country attache’s brazen presumption, but somehow, it doesn’t reach your voice, allowing you to continue the call as normal. 

Javier’s taken aback at how unaffected you seem, so he decides to ramp up his efforts.

Reaching into the pocket of his sand-coloured blazer, he pulls out a cigarette, and when he lights it, he observes how your eyes flash with a hint of something. Something he doesn’t see often. 

Could it be quiet rage simmering beneath those doe eyes? 

You were a people-pleaser; always pleasant and professional. So Javier’s surprised at the way you’re glaring at him. Proud even. Knowing he’s the one to bring it out of you.

As he makes himself comfortable, crossing one leg over the other and reclining back into the chair, you flash him an exaggerated smile. But Javier knows that it’s not meant for him, rather, it’s directed at whatever schmuck has been hoarding your attention for the past five minutes. 

“Thank you for your patience, I’ll be in touch shortly. Alright, take care now.” 

Finally. You end the call and immediately lean forward to retrieve your planner.

“What is wrong with you?” You ask. “Are there no drug kingpins that need incarcerating?”

He stares you down with a slight pout on his lips before repeating his earlier request; as though he didn’t even hear what you just said.

“I need this signing. It’s urgent, is he around?” 

“Everything’s always urgent with you, huh?” You grumble. 

“It’s not like there are lives at stake or anything.” 

You don’t appreciate his sarcasm, especially after how he barged in and disrupted your work. 

The smirk he’s masking is beyond infuriating, and you’re sure he’s exhaling the smoke from his lips in slow motion, purely to rile you up further. 

Every little thing he’s doing seems to annoy you, though you’re not entirely sure why. You put it down to the fact that you know you can’t get rid of him. Not easily, anyway. And not until you give him what he wants.

“The ambassador’s engaged all day, I’m afraid. Try again tomorrow, perhaps?” You tell him with a sickly-sweet smile, holding his forms out towards him.

Javier realises he may have pushed you too far, so he quickly scrambles to sit up straight; hoping a different approach will work on you.

“Sweetheart-” He begins, leaning closer to you. Cigarette now forgotten in favour of working you over.

You cut him off. “Don’t call me that. I’m not one of your girls, Javier.”

He sighs, retreating back in defeat. It’s hard to believe that you didn’t even look at him when you spoke those words, but your tone alone suggested it would be wise to back off. And so, Javier does just that, whilst he scratches his head for a new strategy.

“How about you fast-track these...” He suggests, holding the papers up again. “And in exchange, I’ll buy you a drink.”

You can’t help but scoff. 

“Yeah, that seems fair.” You jest. “That would also require me going to a bar with you, outside of working hours.”

You don’t need to elaborate. He knows you’d never willingly do such a thing. 

“You see.” He drawls. “That’s where you’re wrong. A few little birdies on the third floor told me you’ve got plans this evening. If I just happen to be in the area…well, I think our arrangement can still be fulfilled.” 

Your ears heat up in embarrassment. You didn’t like the thought that this man knew what you got up to outside of work. In your head, colleagues were colleagues, not friends. You liked to keep your work life completely separate from your personal life, and frankly, you didn’t want him trying to weasel his way in there. But something told you he wasn’t going to let this go.

It wasn’t like you’d advertised your plans. The women from communications had hounded you in the break room when they noticed you’d had your hair done. It would’ve been unprofessional to ignore them, so eventually, you’d let it slip that a few of your friends from home were visiting, and you all planned to head into town for some drinks. 

They had fussed over you like you were a newborn. Of course, you assumed it was because you typically kept to yourself at work, and it simply gave them something to gossip about; someone’s life to pry into where they could.

When did you get so cynical?

Snapping out of the memory, you busy yourself with organising your desk drawer. 

“Let me guess.” You say dryly, preoccupied with the task at hand. “You’ll be drinking alone?”

He raises his eyebrows in good humour. “Not if you’re there.”

“Fast-track’s gonna cost you more than one drink, Peña.” You tell him, your voice taking on a singsong quality as you avoid making eye contact. 

“And I’m not drinking with you. I have friends, believe it or not.”

“What will it take?” He asks, looking somewhat intrigued; he didn’t think you’d budge.

“Well, there’s six of us. So three bottles of something should be about right.”

Javier sighs. Why does it cost money to get anything done around here? 

“Wine?” He asks you.

“Am I that easy to read?” You say incredulously. There goes yet another thing he now knows about you.

Yes, he thinks. But he wouldn’t dare tell you that, too scared to poke the bear since you were so close to giving him what he wants. Javier stays silent, opting to give you a knowing look instead.

Finally, you look his way, and your eyes pierce into him. He’s not quite sure if he’s turned on or scared shitless. Or perhaps he’s both? 

Taking the papers from his grasp, you dangle them over the tray marked as “priority”, and his eyes lock on the movement of your hands like a cat chasing a laser. 

“If this means you’ll leave me to work in peace …” You say, looking to him for confirmation of your agreement. 

Javier raises both of his hands at that, holding his palms out in surrender. You squint at him in apprehension, before dropping the forms into the tray.

As he makes his way out of your office, he turns back to address you, and you’re not at all surprised when the DEA’s country attaché winks at you. 

“I’ll see you there.” He tells you.

“Unfortunately.”

***

The bar isn’t as crowded as you hoped it would be. Which means you spot him as soon as he enters. He’s still wearing his dress shirt, but he’s slipped his signature leather jacket over the top, and as cliché as it sounds, it screams bad boy; giving you yet another good reason as to why you should stay away from Javier Peña.

Javier, however, is pleased by the lack of patrons this evening. There’s enough empty space for him to have the perfect view of you from where he’s perched at the bar, nursing his whiskey neat. It’s an intriguing view, he thinks, as his eyes soak up the sight of you, very much out of your element, as you leave your circle of friends to get a drink. 

Your pristine black mary-janes have been swapped out for a pair of electric-blue strappy heels, and your modest silver stud earrings are nowhere to be seen. Instead, your ears are adorned with an elaborate, colourful pair of drop earrings, and Javier can’t help but want to pull your hair back so he can get a better look at them. Not that you’d ever let him that close to you. At least not before you tore him a new one, that’s for certain.

And the dress. His eyes can’t decide where to settle, as his gaze darts between each visual spectacle you’ve curated for him. 

Well, he knows you most likely didn’t dress up for him, but he doesn’t stop himself from indulging in the thought for a brief moment. The knowledge that you’ve been hiding all this underneath those pencil skirts and stockings is a pleasant surprise to him. One his brain can’t seem to compute just yet. 

Sure, he thought you were beautiful. After all, Javier wasn’t blind; he could spot a pretty woman from a mile away. But you always dressed so modestly. So he’s not quite sure what to think when he sets his eyes on the exposed skin of your shoulders in that halter neck, as well as the way the glittery fabric hugs your curves just right before it flares out slightly when it reaches the top of your thighs; giving your ensemble a flirty, playful touch. 

He also can’t help himself from staring at the supple skin of your legs as they draw his eyes down, feeling as though he’s been hypnotised. Besides, you’d made an effort tonight, and it would be criminal to let all your hard work go unnoticed. 

Was there someone you were trying to impress? Surely not. 

Javier knew you weren’t the type to give any man who didn’t meet your exceptionally high, and oddly specific standards the time of day. If they weren’t going to play into your five-year plan, then they were of no use to you.

Perhaps you have yet to notice him, he wonders. Stubbing out his cigarette, he heads to the bar, ignoring the bartender’s sceptical look when he orders three bottles of red wine for the table of young, attractive women over in the corner. Women who look like the last thing they need is to be bothered by this man, drinking his sorrows, alone on a bar stool. 

Amused, he watches you all fuss over the complimentary booze, chuckling to himself when he sees your friends dive right in to fill their glasses. But you don’t seem to be drinking any of the wine you haggled for back at the office. Instead, you stay sipping your margarita in the corner of the booth, seeming perfectly content to sit this one out.

Javier’s perplexed, and slightly exasperated at your cheek. His wallet is feeling significantly lighter in his jacket pocket as of right now, and here you are; shunning his generous offering. 

He walks over to you, preparing to turn on the charm. 

Wearing a winning smile, he approaches tentatively. He's playing the part of the handsome gentleman with nothing but pure intentions, and he doesn’t miss the way your friends’ eyes light up at his arrival. You, however, don’t seem so impressed.

He hunches over slightly, holding himself with a cocky air and chewing his gum as he catches the attention of the rest of the table.

“Ladies…” He begins. “Apologies for the interruption, but I need to borrow your friend here. It’ll just be for a few minutes, then I promise, you can have her back.” 

You take a moment to consider what he might want, but nothing sensible comes to mind. Therefore, you conclude that he must’ve come over here for the sole purpose of vexing you. 

“What’s the matter?” You ask him warily. 

“Embassy business.” He tears his gaze away to wink at your friend. “It’s confidential, of course, so I can’t say any more.” 

“Who’s this?” Your friend asks excitedly, and the rest of the group appears to share her enthusiasm, judging by their wide eyes and straightened backs. You couldn’t fault them, as the men back home were nowhere near as handsome as him. Javier had that whole rugged cowboy appeal; wild and headstrong, a little rough around the edges, with just enough charm and chivalry to make the panties drop. 

Did you really just acknowledge that you find this infuriating man attractive? 

You’d asked the bartender to go easy on the tequila, but perhaps he’d done the opposite. As there could be no other reason as to why you’re currently indulging in such absurd thoughts.

Of course, Javier’s thrilled at the prospect of flashing his badge to the group of beautiful women currently looking up at him like he’s some kind of god. 

He holds it up to them. “Javier Peña, DEA.”

“Again, I apologise, but it really is urgent.” He says, looking at you expectantly. 

You sulk out of your seat before you walk straight past him to a more secluded section of the bar. 

He gets a little too close to you, as when you abruptly turn to face him, he’s hit with a mouthful of your hair. “What is it?” You grit out. 

Meanwhile, Javier’s taken aback at how sexy you are when you’re mad like this. At the embassy, you kept it subdued; hiding behind your persona of professionalism with pleasant smiles and jovial handshakes. But right now, you look as though you might actually slap him. 

“Bonita-”

Again, you cut him off at the use of another pet name. Holding your hand up as you roll your eyes in frustration.

He tries again. “You clean up nice…” And at that remark, you turn your body to face the bar, not wanting to give him another opportunity to check you out.

“You’re not drinking?” 

You gesture to your margarita whilst you take a healthy sip.

“You know what I mean.” He says. “What? You rinse me out for nothing?” 

Taking advantage of your apparent shyness, he’d managed to slip in closer, so you’re surprised when his next words are spoken into your ear.

“You waiting on someone else, huh? Got a better offer or something?” 

“God…” You groan. “I just don’t like the idea of you buying me a drink, okay?”

“You’re from work.” You tell him as a matter of fact.

He raises his eyebrows in confusion. 

“The problem is … ?” His words trail off, searching for your reasoning. 

“The problem is.” You say. “Is that it’s not appropriate.” 

Javier watches your eyes fix on something behind him, ultimately giving you away. He turns his head to see what’s caught your eye, finding what he could only describe as a rather gormless American tourist, sharing a beer with another fellow statesman, as they stick out like a sore thumb. A pair of gringos, if he wanted to be particular. 

He can feel the mirth rising in his throat as it hits him. You had eyes for this plain-looking man. 

And he liked the look of you, too, it seems, as Javier notices him rise from his seat, clearly heading in your direction. 

“Oh, it’s funny is it?” You ask, your tone low. 

He’s taken to ignoring you now; staring straight ahead at the bottles of liquor lined up behind the bar, finding your irritation to be quite the source of entertainment.

The sight that greets you next is Javier, taking a swig from his drink whilst his eyes peer at you over the rim of his glass, inciting you to do something. You ball your hands into tight fists, before shuffling down the bar slightly to put some distance between the two of you.

The tourist is now in front of you. He fluffs his hair as he leans against the bar and greets you, and Javier silently sniggers at the man’s mediocre efforts to flirt with you. You, however, don’t seem to mind it, judging by the genuine smile on your face. Oh, so this is your type. Meek, predictable and incredibly dry. Each to their own, he thinks.

He knows he should probably leave soon, not wanting to spend another weeknight wasted for no good reason, but he can’t tear himself away from eavesdropping on what might be the most boring conversation he’s ever heard. He’s listened to hundreds of wiretaps on sicarios’ phone conversations, and although he wishes those shitbags were dead, their chats were far more engaging than the one he’s currently privy to.

“So, what’s your favourite colour?” 

“Purple.” You tell your admirer, overjoyed at the mundane nature of your conversation. 

Mundane is safe, and safe is good. Good is what you need in a husband and potential father of your future children. Good pays the bills. Good doesn’t spin your world off its axis and force you to question everything you thought you knew about yourself. Good, was good. And this man had all the right qualities, so far.

Another question. “What do you think of lasagne?”

“Yeah, I like it.” You reply, and Javier can’t actually believe how into this you are. 

Well, perhaps he could believe it, actually, if your planner was anything to go off. You even penciled in when you planned to consume alcohol. 

He had nothing against your love of a routine. But he most definitely wanted to see how far he could push you; see how you’d react to spontaneity.

From the corner of his eye, he sees you place your hand on the American’s arm and lean in closer. 

And for Javier, it’s the final straw.

His resolve snaps. Unable to tolerate any more of the painful scene unfolding right beside him, he makes his way over to where the two of you are standing, and in typical asshole fashion, he makes sure to accidentally bump his shoulder against the other man when he reaches you.

“Pérdon, amigo.” He says, hand on your date’s shoulder in a faux apology, before he mutters something else in Spanish. His voice low enough that you didn’t catch what it was.

You hazard a look up at him, and …

Fuck. You realise he’s only just getting started.

The tourist had been so kind as to order you both another drink, but before either of you could get your hands on them…

“Thanks, baby.” Javier coos, looking right at you as he takes a sip from one of the drinks; specifically, the one your date had been reaching for.

Stunned at his bold use of yet another pet name, it’s a few seconds later when you react. You turn your head so fast, that if he wasn’t a government agent, he would’ve missed it, but luckily for Javier, he senses you’re about to call him out when he sees your eyebrows raise, mouth open and hand poised, ready to point a finger in his direction. 

So, naturally, he shuts you up before you can ruin his fun. And he does this in the way he knows best. 

He kisses you. 

Or at least he tries to, but you somehow manage to swerve him just before his lips meet your own, causing it to land on your cheek.

It’s only a peck, but it does the trick, as you are well and truly dumbfounded.

If the eyes are the window to the soul, then you hoped Javier could gauge just how close you were to throttling him by looking into yours. What the fuck was he doing? 

Your ‘date’, though you weren’t sure you could call him that anymore, is just as shocked as you are, backing away from you slightly. You sense he’s not wanting to step on any toes, but he can tap-dance all over Javier Peña’s toes if he likes. In steel boots. You’d most definitely find joy in that. 

You size him up, trying to work out how to get yourself out of this situation before this asshole escalates it. Conflict was the last thing you wanted; it didn’t fit into your schedule for the evening.

“Javie-” You try.

“Sweetheart…I think you’ve bored this man for long enough, don’t you think?” His arm snakes around your waist, pulling your body into his as he stares blankly at the other man, waiting for him to scurry.

And, well, you were also hoping he’d leave. However, your reasons were different from those of Javier’s. Whatever they may be. 

You simply didn’t think you’d be able to contain your anger at the agent’s shenanigans for much longer, and you didn’t want to flip your lid in front of the stranger.

Cutting his losses, your tourist sees himself back to his table, and you notice he’s quick to grab his jacket and tuck in his chair. Javier’s getting comfortable on the stool next to you when you see your admirer leave, and the tight-lipped smile he gives you on his way out has you cringing; mortified at the example that’s been made of you tonight. 

When you’re sure he’s gone, you let some of the facade drop. 

“What was that?” You ask Javier, voice as sharp as a thousand knives.

He simply twirls the glass around in his hand, not taking his eyes off the amber liquid for a second. 

You push again. “What could you possibly have gained from that?”

But still, no answer from the DEA Country Attaché.

“You know what…nevermind.” You exclaim before attempting to return to your friends over in the booth.

Before you make it past him, Javier holds his arm out to stop you in your tracks. Offering you the second of the two drinks, he gestures for you to take it.

“Sit down.” He tells you. “At least until you’ve finished your drink.”

Simmering is no longer the most apt word to describe how you’re feeling right now. You are boiling; the heat in your veins ready to spill over at any moment.

Yet somehow, you are so overcome with outrage that your body feels stiff, and you’re unable to move, or even get more than a few words out. So, not quite able to comprehend what’s just transpired, you sit down, waiting for him to offer up some kind of explanation.

After a few more swirls of his drink around the glass, Javier breaks the silence.

“I was doing you a favour. Trust me, he was dull. You don’t want that.” 

You deserve better than that, is what runs through his head, but that’s a whole other emotion, so he squashes it before it can fester into something more potent.

He continues. “Your kids would’ve been called Randy and Bob or some shit like that.”

“Yes.” You grate in response. “And we could’ve lived in a cushy house in a nice neighbourhood, bought a couple of cats, and travelled once per year.” 

“You want that?” He asks you dubiously.

“And how could you know what I want, Javier?” 

Sensing your control isn’t wavering, he turns to humour. “Well, uh…he didn’t seem like much of a cat person, I’m afraid.” 

Well, he’s got you there. But you couldn’t give him the satisfaction of knowing he’d successfully picked out one of the man’s flaws. You couldn’t let Javier Peña of all people get the better of you. 

“And you don’t seem like much of a diplomat, but here you are … Mr. Attaché.”

That one was a bit too on the nose. 

A sullen look grows on his face; telling you it’s time to go. 

Tomorrow’s a new day, and if you see him, it will be at work. He can’t get away with this shit there. 

Right?

***

Clearly, Javier does not know how to respect your personal space.

The next day, at 12:15 pm precisely, you head to the break room for lunch, and by the time your coffee cup is filled, he’s there too. Loitering behind you like a lost puppy, but not the cute, innocent kind. Javier Peña was the yappy, irritating kind of puppy. 

Crosby had often considered him a thorn in his side; always waltzing in with some grand scheme that threatened to derail everything he had been working towards for years. And now, you were beginning to understand just how your boss felt. 

He waited for you to acknowledge him, but after seeing you potter about the communal space; tidying, reorganising, anything to look busy, he realised that you were stalling. 

And you were. You were hoping he’d get bored of watching you be so mundane, and eventually, he’d leave you alone.

He makes himself a cup too, before leaning against the unit next to where you’re currently refilling the sugar.

“Good night?” He asks, his usual mirth now present again.

“What are you doing in here?”

“Lunch break.��� He grins.

“Oh, excuse me. I thought your diet consisted of cigarettes only.” You tease.

So quick, he thinks. And he doesn’t give you a response, hoping this little victory over him would somehow weaken your guard.

“You never come in here. What’s special about today?” You ask.

He shrugs in response before straightening up slightly, subconsciously hoping to get a little closer to you. He’s fascinated. As far as he was concerned, you eat, sleep and breathe work. So seeing you use your break time, like everyone else, feels strange. It feels new.

What would you do? He found himself studying you like you were a rare specimen; your behaviours, motivations and fluctuations a complete mystery to be unravelled. 

However, as he readjusts his posture, the collar of his shirt slips a little. Previously, the garment had done well to hide it, but now it’s plain to see.

A hickey.

This man has a hickey, just above his collarbone, and due to your proximity, you can see it as clear as day. 

And for some reason unbeknownst to either of you, it incites you. 

You’re not jealous.

You’re impressed. He’d spent a good portion of his evening derailing yours, and yet he still had time to secure a hookup. Well, the man was determined; you had to give him that.

“Good night?” You repeat to him, eyes locked on the offending mark.

Javier follows your gaze until he realises what you’re referring to. He looks around the room to check for eavesdroppers, before lowering his voice.

“Yeah, it was actually. It doesn’t compare to sitting at a bar discussing fucking lasagne, or all the different shades of purple that exist… but I’d say it was alright.”

You sigh. “Yeah, I know it wasn’t my finest hour. But at least I ended the night with some dignity.” 

“Oh, I had plenty of dignity by the end of the night.” He says. “You should try it sometime. It’s good stress relief.”

Stress relief. God, this man was ignorant if he didn’t realise that the majority of your stress recently has been caused by him. 

Him, and his insistence on aggravating you, getting under your skin and sinking in deep, all for some twisted type of power play. 

You must’ve been the only woman at the embassy who wasn’t throwing their panties at him as he walked by their station, which made you a challenge. Just like Escobar, you were a target that needed to be worked. He saw you as a conquest, and that’s what brought him to the break room just now: he was doing his reconnaissance. 

Moving to the far side of the room, right where the refrigerator stood, you try to put some distance between you before replying to his quip.

“Thanks.” You tell him dryly, your eyes looking at anything but him. “But I’ve got my own form of stress relief that works just fine.”

He holds in a chuckle. You were probably one of the most highly-strung people he’d ever met, so he seriously doubted your words. If this was you with well-managed stress levels, he couldn’t imagine what you’d be like on a bad day. And yet, some part of him wanted to see that. Wanted to be the one that drove you to that place. Not out of malice, of course, but out of curiosity. 

Javier wanted to work you up, right up to the point where you’re at the edge of what your body can handle, only to see you spiral down. All your rational thoughts lost to the physical, as you fall over the precipice, into a sea of baser instincts. It would be beautiful to see, he thinks.

But the sound of your heels drags him out of his fantasy, as he sees you heading towards the door. You were on your way back to your office, by the looks of it, and Javier can’t help but follow you, though he kept a safe distance so as to not spook you too soon.

When he sees that you’re at your desk again, comfortable, he quickly sneaks through the door. 

You’d anticipated that he wouldn’t leave it alone without getting the last word in, so you weren’t exactly phased by his intrusion. Typing away, you get on with your business as though he’s not there. 

Standing beside your desk, to any onlooker it appears as though he’s just running something by you, as he picks up a document from your desk that looks somewhat related to his sector. He rakes his eyes over it sporadically, not at all paying attention to anything it contains. Rather, he’s debating whether to let a certain thought of his loose. Would it be too much?

“What is it that you do then?” He asks. “For stress relief?” 

He looks up from the piece of paper he’s holding to gauge your reaction. It wasn’t meant to be sexual, but you couldn’t deny the shift in the atmosphere. Javier felt as though there was something unsaid between you. Something festering in the back of both your minds.

Your ire now subdued, you drop your pen to look up at him. “Organisation. Cleaning, moving things around my apartment, filling out my planner…” You say, tapping your nails against the wooden surface in thought. 

Javier feels something light tug at his chest. Fascination, for sure. But could it also be admiration he feels? He can see that you’re getting swept up in a daydream of your own making, drifting towards a sweet fantasy; your eyes lighting up in pleasure, and he wants so badly to call it fascinating, but something tells him it’s a little closer to endearing.

The document long forgotten, he asks you. “Your planner, huh?”

You nod in response. “It’s sacred.” 

A delicate smile makes an appearance on your face, and Javier’s trying his hardest not to indulge in the sight. 

“I bet. You use it to plan out every part of your life?”

“That’s what it’s for.”

“Even when you fuck?” 

That renders you speechless. Javier had expected you to lash out, call him filthy or heatedly demand that he get out of your office. But nothing comes.

It’s at this exact moment when he realises he’s struck a nerve. Your shoulders have dropped, you’re nibbling on your bottom lip, and under the desk, he can see your feet have stopped their usual tapping. You look sheepish, almost.

He knows he can’t take it back, so he figures he might as well push forward. After all, he’s got nothing to lose. Except for his eyes, and any other vital body part, should you go back to being mad at him and claw them out.

“Right.” He drawls, waiting for you to elaborate.

Usually, when Javier Pena provokes you, he expects you to give it back to him. But not this time, it seems.

Laying back into your chair in resignation, you sigh. “Not quite. Let’s leave it at that.”

It’s clearly a lie, you denying that your sex life is dictated by a schedule. Javier knows you’re just the kind of woman that wants to exercise control over every aspect of your existence, even your carnal pleasure. You’re not giving much away, and he wants to crawl deeper; draw out a confession and claim a victory over you.

“Leave it at that...” He parrots. 

“DEA interrogation 101, never deflect. Good job you’re not a criminal, huh?” He jests, his laugh seeming shakier this time.

Still unwilling to budge, you give him nothing.

Again, in classic Javier fashion, he leans down, hands planted firmly in front of yours on your desk, crowding your space as his eyes beg yours for contact. “Bonita.” He coos.

That does it, snapping you out of your mildness. 

“Javier!” You admonish, voice firmly raised, though not enough to draw the attention of others. 

“I know, I know… no pet names. Apologies.” 

All he receives in response is your glare. Scathing and defiant.

Straightening up, he exhales whilst flexing his fingers. “Just tell me. Then I’ll leave it alone.”

But you’re not prepared to give this man any ammunition against you, not of your own volition, anyway.

However, he decides to adapt his strategy. He swipes the sacred object. Your planner, and holds it behind his back; beyond the extent of your reach.

You don’t react at first. Not until you hear his next words. “I think I’ll take a quick look-”

Darting out of your seat, you go to stop him, reaching over your desk for the stolen object, before he slams it back down in front of you. His wide palms pressed firm against the fabric cover, holding it down in a show of his dominance. You shouldn’t find that sexy, you think, cursing yourself silently for allowing yourself to become affected by this man.

As this is nothing short of an act of war, leaving you bristling and agitated. Rising to your feet, you gravitate towards where he’s holding your planner hostage. “You’ve had more than enough fun terrorising me over lunch break, I think it’s about time you get back to work.” You say.

“Tell me, and you can have it back.” He affirms, though he doesn’t need to move an inch. He knows, and you most definitely know, that your strength is no match for him. He’s an agent, for crying out loud. You’ve got no chance of getting your planner back without one of two methods: manipulation or seduction.

The latter was certainly off the cards, so you went with the former option. But you couldn’t deny your body’s reaction to Javier’s physicality. The way he stood firm in place, challenging you to come to him, all the while knowing he has the power to wrangle you wherever he sees fit. And to you, that was undeniably sexy.

You would never indulge in such a fantasy, of course, liking your men docile, as they were less likely to cheat and screw up your five-year plan. But you could allow yourself this one forbidden thought. Just for a second longer.

“There’s nothing to tell. Give it to me and I’ll bump your meeting with Crosby to tomorrow instead of Friday. Heard you need a sign-off… urgently.” You try smirking. “Something about a Cali operation and a chicken van.”

His own grin falters. Huh…he must really need the ambassador’s approval. 

But he tries to play it off. “It’s alright, these things can’t be rushed. I think I’ll hold onto this a little longer.” 

“What do you want, Javier?” You ask, your voice unimpressed and impatient.

“Tell me. Tell me that you actually plan when you get laid. Then you can have this back.” He holds the planner above his head, and when you reach for it again, he snatches it back behind him. 

“Come on…” You groan.

He moves closer to the door, daring you to let him leave with your most prized possession. But you’re running out of plays, you’re getting tired, and you remind yourself that Javier’s most likely going to get screwed later on, in some way or another, by the Colombian government, and that thought alone brings you comfort. Enough comfort, that it outweighs the distaste of having to give in to him.

Stepping closer, you huff out. “Okay! Fine! … I follow what Vogue magazine suggests. Orgasms at least every two days, and-” 

“And what?” He taunts.

“Eating saffron regularly, a-and drinking red wine, too. Aphrodisiacs … you know?” 

Javier’s grin is smug as shit, after drawing out your admission, and you want nothing more than to wipe it off his face. But right now, you just want him gone. Somewhere where he can’t see the blush flourishing in your cheeks. 

“Are you done?” You ask, arms crossed against your chest in an attempt to regain the appearance of power. Something you had forfeited whilst chasing the DEA Country Attaché, who held your planner hostage, around your office like a child chasing a butterfly.

The man in front of you softens at your tone, understanding that he’d pushed you quite far, and that he quite possibly got carried away. He couldn’t resist the way it felt; getting swept up in teasing each other, evoking a lightness in his chest that doesn’t come around often. 

“Do you ever do anything simply because you want to? When you want to?” He asks you. “Impulsively?”

All you can say to usher him out of your space is his name. “Javier.” You call, until you somehow manage to form a few more words. “Time’s up. Out, please.”

Sensing you’re at the end of your thread, he stalks towards the door. But when he reaches for the handle, he turns back to look at you. And the look on his face is unlike any of the ones he’s sported around you previously. It’s genuine. 

He calls out to you, voice almost quiet enough to sound sincere. “Hey, uh- if you ever wanna ditch the planner and let loose sometime, let me know, yeah.”

And with that, he’s gone. Leaving you reeling from the implications of his parting words.

***

The following day, Javier seeks you out on his lunch break, hoping to ask for another favour. But you’re not there. 

When he asks around in the break room for you, he finds out that you’d gone out for lunch today. Avoiding him, perhaps?

Now left with twenty-five minutes of free time, and a reluctance to head back upstairs and do some actual work, Javier goes snooping. He already had his excuse, having brought down another form for you to sign off on, so he’s not worried about looking out of place. But still, he’s considered a hero nowadays; a reputation to uphold, so he quickly checks for prying eyes before he pushes open the door to your office. 

That’s when he sees it. 

Your planner. Sitting pretty, waiting for someone to come along and peek inside. Well, today, that someone was Javier Peña. He knows he shouldn’t be doing this. It’s a huge violation of your privacy, and if you found out, you’d surely have Crosby fire him. But as his feet carry him forward, he tells himself it’s harmless.

You work in an embassy, and you weren’t the type of person to have anything incriminating on your person whilst in a building filled with the top brass, not to mention various military and police officials, so there couldn’t be anything too intimate in there.

He picks it up, and as soon as his fingers touch the first page, he becomes frantic; possessed by the need to soak up as much of you as he can through these slightly worn pages, before he gets caught.

Javier studies your schedule like a classified file. He tells himself he’s searching for some dirt on you, something juicy that will become ammunition for his future torment. But that’s not the whole truth. At least, the fondness in his eyes suggests otherwise.

Mondays: no caffeine until 12 pm… Wednesdays: senator’s conference, dinner with Damon, laundry (whites) … Saturdays: allowance of 500ml wine …

The last one causes his eyebrows to raise, though the discipline it showed was certainly true to what he knew about your character.

However, as he’s about to investigate what you had planned for this Saturday night in particular, he hears the click of your heels getting closer, followed by your laughter. There you were, on your way back to the office, Crosby close behind as the two of you partake in light-hearted conversation. Huh, so that’s what you look like when you’re happy.

Luckily, for Javier, the ladies from your floor latch on to you, dragging you into their conversation and buying him some valuable time whilst you discuss last week’s department meeting.

It all happens so fast. He darts out of your office and makes a beeline to the elevator, his shoulders slacking only when he’s back in the sanctuary of his own workspace.

Pulling open his desk drawer on the right side, he shoves your planner inside and almost slams it shut; the closure somewhat symbolic of his hesitancy to confront what he’s just done.

Oops. 

***

It was when he saw you working late one evening, on a Friday nonetheless, that Javier considered it might be time for him to return your planner. He hadn’t looked inside again, not since that day in your office when he’d come looking for you during lunch, but there was a reason he didn’t want to give it back just yet.

The planner tied him to you. It gave him a reason to not have to leave you alone. Of course, you weren’t aware that he had it; as far as he could tell, but for as long as he held it, he’d matter to you. This little piece of stationery gave him a place in your world. Just for now, but now was enough for Javier, at least until he could make sense of these incomprehensible feelings you were eliciting from him.

Feelings that were causing his stomach to churn, currently, as he observes the way your hair falls in your face, whilst your hand moves elegantly over the page. However, he notices that the usual swiftness of your writing is absent. It appears as though you’re tired; wrist flexing far too often, and the strokes of your pen somewhat sluggish at this time of night. And to top it all off, there was a cup of coffee beside you; the rim kissed by the pink of your lipstick, teasing him with phantom sensations of what your lips would taste like. 

Javier got the sense that for you, drinking coffee after 7 pm was practically illegal, and yet the proof was right in front of him. It must’ve been a tough day if you were willing to disrupt your immaculate sleep schedule.

He steps inside, and you’re not even alarmed by him violating your privacy again. At this point, you’d come to expect his presence, despite how troublesome it always seemed to be for you.

“Sweetheart…”

Devoid of the energy needed to accost him for his choice of words, you settle for a scowl. But it’s a tired scowl, and he can tell you’re most likely not in the mood to bicker with him like you usually are.

You don’t lift your eyes when he sits down in front of you, but you should’ve done. Because if you did, you’d have seen the unmistakable furrow of concern on his face. You would have seen his empathy. Unadulterated, earnest and afflicted. It was the kind of expression one can only offer to another when they’ve experienced it themselves. 

After all, Javier had plenty of experience in overworking himself to the point of physical and mental burnout. Unable to ever switch off, even, and rather than fall deeper into his vices, he considered it better to channel the ambivalence he often felt into more work; that way he’d feel like he was doing something good. Even if all he was doing was searching for minor leads; needles in a haystack that Uncle Sam didn’t have the funds to clean up. 

Hoping to obtain more of your attention, he lets out a rough cough to stir you from your tired musings.

When that doesn’t work, he asks. “What are you still doing here?”

“It’s fine.” You tell him. “It’s not that unusual.”

“For you, it is. Trust me, I do this often and I never see you here. What is it?” He questions, gesturing to the forms you’re working on.

“Crosby needs all this done. He’s headed back to Oklahoma for the weekend to see his family, and well, there are four networking events next week, and it’s down to me to organise it all. Nothing I can’t handle, but he only dropped this on me when he called earlier, at 4.30 pm.”

Javier knows that by the way you punctuate the time, you’re not a happy bunny for having your schedule thrown into disarray. Like clockwork, you left the office at exactly 5 pm every day, so at 8.53 pm, you’ve had almost four hours off track. 

“So what … you’re gonna sleep here for the weekend until it’s done?”

Exasperated, you say his name in a warning. “I’m not in the mood for your-”

“I’m not in the mood for you, right now.” You tell him, wanting it to come across with absolute finality. But there’s no certainty in your voice, and it pains Javier to see you like this. 

He knows it’s not his fault - the cause of your stress - but the way you’re trying to exile him sends an anxious quiver through his veins. A part of him longed for you, and hearing that you wanted him to leave caused an uncomfortable urge to fight; to prove to you that he could fix it all for you.

He calls your name in a plea to get you to stop, just for a moment. Perhaps so he can talk you round? Fuck knows. He doesn’t know what to do, but he figures he’ll try to buy himself some more time. 

You look up, and he can see the whites of your eyes are tinged red; strained. The way you look so unsure of yourself has him crippled. Never, had he ever anticipated seeing you like this, as you were always so driven, confident in the trajectory you were following for yourself.

He says your name again. And it’s a white flag; a temporary truce whilst he helps you through this stump. 

“What?” You ask. You’re not annoyed, however, as there’s a trace of laughter in your voice; the kind of laughter that comes when something slips. It wasn’t exactly a facade, but you’d definitely loosened up now that you had gone past your “working hours”. To Javier, it seemed as though you’d given up on trying to impress others. Trying to please everyone, as you did constantly throughout each day at the embassy. And shit. Javier liked the way it looked on you. 

Authenticity.

“You should head home, it’s late. Crosby would never get rid of you if you didn’t finish all this shit.” He says with a soft smile.

“Well…” You huff. “It’s easier said than done. Besides, you said it yourself. You’re always here late.”

Of course, he was the pot calling the kettle black, but this was you. And you didn’t deserve this. 

He doesn’t have an answer to that. “Yeah, well …”

“What about this?” He says, picking up your stress ball from your desk. He holds up the squishy cat, before holding it out to you.

“Here. Give it a squeeze … Problem solved.” He jokes.

You take the toy from him before giving it a few good squeezes in your hand, and Javier can see some of the tension in your muscles evaporate at that. 

And he’s almost floored when you smile sheepishly at him. Do it again, he begs in his head, wanting - no, needing - to see this purer side of you. 

Standing from his chair, he coaxes you up too. “Come on … pack up your shit and you can let me give you a ride home.”

You shake your head almost instantly. “I’m good. I can call a friend.”

Javier sighs and perches on the corner of your desk. Leaning down closer, he tries again. “Well, Brenda left hours ago. You caught a lift in her with her, right? Come on, it will save you and your friend the hassle.”

He’s greeted by your vacant expression. Well, this is going great for him.

After a pause of deliberation, you try to get your words out. “But-” Is all you manage.

Sensing your concern at this new advancement in your working relationship, he tries to reassure you. 

“What, huh? Your planner won’t let you?”

And as soon as Javier mentions the planner, he regrets it. Considering it was currently in his possession, and he had planned to return it to you tonight, he probably shouldn’t be putting the thought of it in your head. Thankfully, you’re too exhausted to pick up on it.

“Come on …” He groans. “Be a little spontaneous for a change. Who knows? You might like it.” 

“I don’t wanna owe you any favours, Javier.” 

“No favours …” He assures you. “I’ll even do you one. If you let me drive you home, I’ll leave you alone from now on.”

You pretend to believe him. “Right. It’s not like you haven’t told me that several times already. I’ll believe it when I see it, Agent.”

Fuck, why does the thought of that hurt him?

“This time I mean it.” He announces.

And in that moment, a pool of unease treads between the two of you. 

You should be glad of his promise to leave you be. Perhaps, you are. But you love routines and consistency, so you can’t deny that the thought of such a change unsettles you deeply. 

Feeling both anxious and safe with Javier in this moment, you accept his offer.

***

Riding in Javier Peña’s car was not where you thought you’d be on Friday night. And you’re sure he can tell by how strangely you’re acting.

You’ve got your knees locked together tightly, with your hands resting in your lap. Whilst you tense and flex your fingers repeatedly, Javier’s trying his best to keep his eyes on the road. But at the stop lights, he’s able to get a proper read on you, and once again, he’s bemused by what he sees.

It’s awkward. Or at least, you’re behaving awkwardly. There’s no sass, no feisty determination … 

Just you, not knowing how to act around him now you’re alone together. 

“Lighten up, would you?” He says. “You look like you’re riding in a funeral car.”

And that snaps you out of it. Slightly. 

You swallow and unclasp your hands before you speak next. “Sorry, I’m not used to this.”

“What, you don’t take DEA agents home often?” He teases. 

Javier predicts your eye roll before it comes. “What do you think?” 

He looks away from you then, but you spot his grin in your peripheral vision.

It’s silent for a short while, until the man beside you can’t help but speak his mind.

“Look, I uh- I completely get it, you know. Not trusting people, not wanting to let them in. But it’s not all bad. Having someone to talk to, someone to have fun with, someone to touch. I meant it when I said it’s stress relief. And you deserve to have that.” He says with utter sincerity.

“With whoever you consider worthy, of course. If anyone can even make it that far, right?” He jokes.

And you can’t help but laugh at his teasing this time, but the awkwardness is still very much present in your body. 

“Thanks …“ You mutter, voice trailing off in uncertainty.

Javier uses the lull to change the subject. “So how long have you been living at your place?”

“Around two years. Not all of us got upgraded to the premium apartments. We can’t all be heroes, you know.” 

Your pitch rises at the end to convey your amusement, and Javier finds himself mirroring your soft smile.

“Don’t know about a hero, Princesa. But I’m El Jefe now … guess they needed to give me a swanky new apartment to distract from the fact I’m pretty fucking useless these days.”

Princesa. 

That one was new. But for some reason, it was fitting.

And it doesn’t even bother you, right now. You know Javier Peña is a notorious womanizer. But just for a moment, you let yourself indulge in it. The moment that feels so much like a fantasy; you’re alone with him, in his car, and he’s calling you Princesa. It’s the funniest thing, how exhaustion has completely unravelled all your judgements.

“Wh- what do you mean? Crosby wouldn’t keep you around if you were useless, Javier.”

Fuck. The way you say his name like that, so hopeful, and without a trace of expectation. It makes him want to tell you everything; all of his fears, regrets and deepest insecurities. 

Some were rooted so deeply they almost felt physiological, and perhaps, they’re what cause him to say. “Every lead’s always one step ahead of you, and by the time you manage to get somewhere, someone’s already dead. When it matters, the people in charge won’t do shit, not until the narcos embarrass them enough to knock them off their asses.”

Your heart flutters at his raw admission.

“Fuck, and when things are good. When people aren’t getting killed, it’s because the government’s in bed with the fucking bad guys, paying them off with Uncle Sam’s money. Meanwhile, the narcos are raking in more cash than ever before.”

“Javier…” You exhale. 

Unsure of what to say, you try to reassure the troubled man beside you. 

“It’s enough. What you’re doing is enough. That’s all you can do. The system isn’t changing anytime soon.” You tell him.

The question is on the tip of your tongue. “I’ve heard things, and well … there will always be people like Stechner, pulling the wrong strings. Why put yourself through all the pain, when it’s never going to change? What’s in it for you, Javier?”

Does he even know why?

“One less body. One less overdose. One less finca destroyed … I hope to God that somehow, the scales are tipping. Even if it’s only a little. I hope something good comes out of it all, once in a while.” He says.

Silence soon comes to feel like a friend. At this moment, neither you or Javier know what to say, but you don’t feel the need to fill the quiet just yet. After all, that would mean acknowledging the prominent development in your relationship, and you were both too afraid to call it what it was. Afraid that acknowledgment would cause everything to dissipate all at once.

“Thanks for lending me your ear … uh, I guess it’s a good thing I said I’d leave you alone. Means you won’t have to hear me whine like that again.” Javier tells you, his apprehension somewhat obvious to an outsider. But not to you.

“Yeah … it’s a good thing, huh.” 

Nothing else is said for the remainder of the journey. The day had ground the two of you down, and you had collectively reached your limit. 

As you enter your apartment, you can’t help but replay the drive over in your head. Dropping your heels on the way to the living room, you curl up on the couch, processing. Would Javier really leave you alone?

Yet the most pressing question remained unanswered. Is that what you wanted? 

***

When Javier vowed to leave you alone, you expected it would bring relief.

However, you haven’t seen the man for five days now, and you can’t shake the sense that something is missing.

His daily annoyances had become a part of your routine, and without them, your office felt a little too quiet. Ghastly, almost. It was devoid of the warmth his mirth would bring, as he’d saunter in bargaining for favours with that artful charm of his.

Files he needed you to fast-track. Stationery he’d tamper with on your desk. His legs crossed in your chair. Even the curls of his cigarette smoke filling your office. All these things were simply no more. 

To the best of your understanding, you’d always thought you hated him. He was everything you were not. Scared of commitment, brazen and sometimes rogue, Javier was a lone wolf. 

Whereas you were reserved, organised, rigid in your ways and a pathological people pleaser. A goody two shoes, to be frank. 

He was everything you thought you hated, but perhaps, he reflected everything you were scared to be. 

For the longest time, you believed you needed someone just like you. A mirror, to be exact. Someone who validated your existence, because they lived in the same skin as you. 

And now, you’re not so sure anymore.

Having somehow misplaced your planner, time had seemed quite blurry, lately. You made a mental note to buy another when you head into town at the weekend, yet part of you wondered what it would be like to be without it. After all, you’d survived the last week. Would it be a disaster? Or would it be freeing?

There was a deep yearning within you to break the monotony and try something new. You longed for the taste of spontaneity and recklessness that Javier had fed you; bit by bit until you’d become addicted to the thought of it. 

You weren’t naive. This didn’t mean you wanted to run away with him, ask to go steady, and pray he’ll change his biology. Pray he’ll commit to you, and you only.

No. The thought of that made you feel sick, even. You’d never want to be the sacrificial lamb who tries to change the wolf, all because she thought there was a chance he could love her, in a different life.

Rather, you longed to give up control to him. You longed to have him knock you down a peg, make you question everything you ever knew about yourself. You longed to see the version of you that complimented him; all rough edges and dark clouds.

But a leopard can’t change its spots - not overnight, anyway - and you didn’t possess the courage needed to make a move. So, ultimately, you got back to work, allowing these new desires to fade into the background.

Perhaps, in the need to catch another kingpin, desperation alone would bring him to your desk, and he’d sweet talk you round to get things moving faster. And you’d flirt back with him, or at least try to, and he’d be surprised; eyes wide and smirk strong.

Such a thought sent a shudder through your body. Perhaps.

***

Javier Peña couldn’t remember the last time he went over to a woman’s place, without the intention of sleeping with them.

But here he is, standing outside your door. 

He hasn’t seen you in a while, having stood by his word to leave you alone. And although he tells himself he’s just here to return your planner, at last, that doesn’t explain why he decided 9.27 pm would be the best time to come over. 

It also doesn’t explain why he wore that same leather jacket from the night at the bar, when he’d ruined your chances with another guy. Or why he made sure to lock all the car doors and windows, as though he expected to stay awhile.

He knows his chances are slim. But Javier wants to test the odds. 

His knock startles you, and you scramble to fix your appearance, not having expected any visitors this late in the evening.

When you open the door, you’re met with the last person you expected to find there. He’s uncertain, and if you didn’t know any better, you’d think he was nervous. But Javier Peña doesn’t do shy. Reckless and haphazard, perhaps, but not shy. Not like this.

Why is he here? Did Crosby die, or something? You couldn’t imagine why else he’d be here right now.

“W-What happened? Is he alright?” You ask, stuttering in your panic.

He holds his hand out to steady you, firm fingers clasped firmly around your delicate wrist. “Everything’s fine, don’t worry. I just came to return this. I uh- found it in the break room, beneath a pile of magazines.” 

He holds up your planner. But he doesn’t hold it out to you, too scared of you kicking him to the curb once you’ve got it. Before he even has a chance to figure out why he’s here.

“Oh my God! Really? I’ve been looking for it everywhere.” You say, shaking your head in disbelief, still coming down from your earlier panic.

“Yeah.”

He looks up to the ceiling, not quite sure how to handle the fact you’re quite underdressed; the top buttons of your blouse are undone, revealing the way your breasts are barely contained by the thin satin adorning them. And underneath your skirt, your legs are bare too, a sight that had haunted Javier’s dirty dreams since he first saw them that night with your friends. 

When you’d opened the door, your sweet little gasp of surprise caused his cock to stir in his jeans, and now he’d set his sights on your body, he wanted to hear it again, as he held your thigh against his chest whilst he fucked you deep into the bed.

Shit. He couldn’t take it anymore. He needed to feel you; feel what it’s like to hold your attention completely for a while. Feel you clamping down on him as you said fuck expectations and succumbed to the chaos of carnal pleasure. Pleasure that he was desperate to give you. 

You weren’t a conquest. Not at all. It was just that Javier knew how much you were holding back and holding out on yourself, and he wanted to be the one to show you what it could be like to let loose. To let go and be a little kinder to yourself.

Leaning in closer, he coerces your eyes to meet his, and the intensity of his stare has slick pooling between your thighs. He didn’t even need to touch you. You’d give him anything he asked for.

“So, uh … what’s on the agenda for tonight, then?” He asks, testing the waters.

“Nothing.” 

Your eyes peer up at him. Your want, need and craving staring back at him. It has to be now, he thinks.

“Fuck!” He curses, before his body’s moving yours, walking you back into your apartment with his hands on your hips. 

“Javier! W-what?” You ask, but you don’t get the chance to reply when his lips on yours successfully quiets you. 

“Javier! We should … We should- shouldn’t be-”

“Shouldn’t be doing what, huh?” He counters, his tone laced with amusement.

You don’t have an answer for him, instead your hand grips the back of his neck to pull his mouth back to yours, and in return, you feel him smile through his kisses.

When you reach your bedroom, you situate yourself on the bed whilst pawing at Javier desperately. His belt. His hair. The leather covering his broad shoulders. Your hands reach for whatever they can get. 

“Sweetheart.” He exhales, his voice trying its best to hide his impatience. 

His eyes unable to get enough of you like this, you watch as they roam up along your bare legs, taking in the rare sight of you sans stockings as you lay back on the bed, your supple skin the perfect contrast to the crisp white sheets beneath you. 

His gaze having soaked up enough of your body to drive himself crazy, he eventually moves it upwards to admire your face; the innocence mixed with pent-up frustration divulging how much you need to be touched. How much you need someone to unravel you from head to toe.

“I need-” You begin. “I need it, Javier.” It being every unspoken desire you harbour for this man. Everything you want him to do to you, but you’re too scared to admit. 

“I need more than that. Words, baby. What do you need?”

“I-I need you to show me. Show me what it’s like to let loose … like you said.” Your voice trembles slightly, not used to acting on your wants.

That’s all Javier needs to hear to give him the green light. Then, he’s back on you, mouth latching to any inch of skin he can reach. Trailing kisses down the v of your cleavage, stopping only when your blouse cuts off his access to the heaven below, he moves off the bed to stand beside it.

“Take your clothes off. I need to see you.” He tells you.

“Are you seriously asking me to strip for you?” Your voice is hesitant, worried you’re not going to match up to his other girls if that’s the level of sexy he expected from you. “Is this what it’s always like?” You ask. “With the others?”

“No, fuck I- … I’ll mess up the buttons on your pretty shirt if I try. Maybe you should-”

You cut him off. “Yeah, that’s good.”

He watches you unfasten each button, one by one, and you’re taking too long for his liking. It’s not deliberate on your part, it’s just that you’re wearing satin and the garment had to be handled delicately. By the time he’s removed his leather jacket and his shirt, you haven’t even made it past your tits. 

It’s not enough. There are still too many parts of you concealed from him, and Javier decides that messing up the buttons wouldn’t be that bad after all, as he replaces your nimble fingers with his own rough hands, opening your shirt with a few harsh tugs before wrangling it over your head. 

When he’s gotten it off, he tosses the somewhat wrecked garment aside before hiking your skirt up to pool around your tummy, and his rough touch has you moaning loudly.

“Javier…” You whine.

“Javi, baby. You call me Javier when I’m getting on your nerves at work.” He gives you a cheeky smile, relaxing you. “This is different.”

You try it out, the name tasting unfamiliar on your tongue. “J-Javi …” You moan, deciding it tastes good in your mouth.

“There you go, baby.” He praises, his face lighting up at your submission, but also at the fact you seem to be enjoying yourself, as that’s all he wants out of this; for you to feel good.

He kisses and nips at the soft skin of your belly whilst he tugs your panties down your legs. They stick to your pussy, at first, due to how much slick has gathered within them, but you lift your hips eagerly to help him, and Javier’s taken aback by just how vocal you’re proving to be. How pretty the sounds you’re making are. 

However, he doesn’t know that you’ve already written this off as being a one-time thing. You figured that If you were only going to be able to have him once, you might as well go all in and enjoy yourself. Right?

Having stripped you of your panties, he quickly pockets them in his jeans, but not quick enough for it to escape your notice. 

“What are you going to do with those?” 

Your expression is guarded, concern causing you to shift back up the bed slightly. Javier’s stomach drops as he sees you slip away from him slightly, and he’s consumed by the need to reassure you.

“Nothing you don’t want me to do.” He says, hand gently working your calf to relax you. “Do you trust me?”

You probably shouldn’t, but you do. “Yes.”

“Good.” He taps his pocket with your underwear inside. “A precaution. You’ll have to speak to me again after this. If you want these back, of course.” 

It’s the way that even his filth is somehow laced with sweetness that comforts you, and you settle closer to him on the bed, allowing his hands access to your body again. His experience now blatantly obvious to you, Javier swiftly slips your bra off, mouth instantly latching on to your nipple as he teases it with his tongue.

“Javiiii … “ You whine, writhing under his touch. Hand caught in his soft curls, your fingers press his head closer to you, which is frankly impossible, but still, you try; unable to get enough of him.

“What, baby? What is it, huh?” 

Arching your back as his tongue swipes at a particularly sensitive spot, you mewl. “Touch me, please.”

He lifts his mouth from your tit with a wet pop. “What do you mean?” He asks with a smirk. “Looks like I’m already doing that, no?”

Javier’s greeted with a cute, yet frustrated grumble from you. “Touch me there.”

“Where?” He knows you won’t explicitly tell him where, but he continues to tease it out of you. 

“You want me to touch your pretty cunt?”

“Oh my God …” You cry out. “You’re so dirty.”

Taking your words as praise, he finds himself needing to prove to you how dirty he can be. 

He flips you onto your belly, and as you go to raise yourself up on your forearms, he beats you to it, pulling your ass up and causing your back to arch. Shoving your skirt out of the way, he leans over you for a moment, tangling his hand in your hair as he massages your scalp, subtly pushing your head further into the pillows. It’s a signal. It says relax, I’ve got you. But it also says don’t move, this is exactly how I want you.

You lose it when his mouth latches onto your pussy, tongue licking thick stripes through your folds as you open up for him. 

“Fuuuck!” His lips suckle and kiss your hole in a wet frenzy, as you squeal before quietly cursing yourself for being so noisy.

Javier watches you plant your face into the pillow, trying to muffle your sounds of pleasure. He reaches a big hand back into your hair to turn your head sideways, as he urges you. “Don’t hide from me, baby. This sweet little pussy deserves to feel good.” 

His words are made even filthier by the sounds of him mouthing kisses on your cunt. You moan for him, louder this time. “It tastes so good, too, just like honey. Do you want me to keep going?”

“Yes!” You beg. 

Javier stops. He lifts his mouth from your centre, only to spit on it. A mixture of your slick and his spit runs down, past your hole and onto the sheets below you; the lewd sound of his fingers toying with your combined juices has your shoulders digging further into the bed. He’s driving you wild.

His fingers nudging at your entrance, you call out to him. “Javi … m-maybe we should slow down, we’re getting the bed all wet.” Your hands fist the sheets, hoping to draw his attention to the soaked fabric as your eyes plead with him.

Pausing the exploration of his fingers, Javier moves his head to the side to check your expression. You look embarrassed. Ashamed of feeling this good, and he can’t have that. He’s not used to women who are so stubborn in receiving pleasure. 

But then again, you weren’t most women, and that’s what drew him to you in the first place.

“Sweetheart, you say the word and we’ll stop.” He reassures you, and you shoot him a grateful, yet timid smile in return.

“But you shouldn’t ever feel embarrassed about this.” His thumb finds a pearl of wetness pooling at your entrance and he drags it up, smearing it everywhere, and you feel it too, as the cool air hits the slick now covering your ass cheeks. 

“This, is so fucking sexy, princesa. And it’s going to get messier, still, when you come on my mouth.” 

Princess, he calls you again. And the way your pussy clamps down on nothing tells him you like this pet name, after all.

“Ah!” 

“You good?” He asks, his concern genuine.

“G-Good.” You squeak in reply, before stretching out on the bed again.

And with your affirmation, he ducks his head down to bury his face in your pussy, again. But this time, he’s increased his force; his tongue darting inside your hole whilst one hand grips your thigh tightly. The other finds its way back into your hair, caressing your scalp and gently tugging to coax you further out of your shell. 

“J-Javi!” You moan his name again, liking the way the sound of it moves through your body. Like it was yours to keep, for just one night. 

“Yeah, you like that baby?” He goads, mouth never leaving the paradise between your legs as his nose nudges your swollen clit. You feel every syllable vibrate through you. “You like getting your cunt eaten?” 

“Javi, please.” You whine, volume no longer a concern of yours.

He knows you’re close, can feel you throb against his tongue, and your thigh shakes underneath his hand. He moves both hands to spread your cheeks, allowing him to dive even deeper and tongue-fuck you even harder.

“That’s it princesa. Sweet girl. I’ve got you. Give it all to me.” He coos, lapping at your clit to draw out your orgasm. 

You come in a symphony of whines, mewls and cries. Your pussy soaking his face, as well as the sheets, just as he promised you. 

And Javier works you through it, drinking up your nectar and prolonging your orgasm until your body falls flat on the bed in exhaustion. He figures it had been a while for you, so it was no surprise that you looked as though he’d just fucked you to sleep. 

Now pliant in his arms, he moves his hand back to your head, petting you as you come down. “That’s it, baby. So fucking good for me. You did so well, huh?”

“Javi … “ You groan, voice hoarse from all the noise you made. His grip on your hair is firm enough that you feel yourself leaking again, already, and you reach behind yourself to feel him.

“Shhhh, baby. I’m right here. What do you want?”

Everything you have.

Such a thought scares you, and so you turn onto your back to tell him. “It’s fine, I-I’m all good now … you should-.” 

“I’m not going anywhere. Not until you tell me what you want.” So stubborn, he thinks. Can’t you see he needs you just as bad?

The sound that comes out of your mouth is just above a whisper. “You, Javi. I want you.”

You sound so sweet, beckoning him to you like that, and he pushes your legs apart before pushing a finger into your sopping heat, soon adding another when you purr for him.

“Well, you’ve got me, alright. You didn’t even need to ask nicely.” He smirks at you, and you would’ve rolled your eyes had he not been taking you apart with his fingers so good. 

Reaching for his belt, you coo to him. “I want to touch you, s’not fair …”

And, well, Javier would be a fool to deny you. He makes quick work of his belt and zipper before pulling his jeans off, and then he’s kneeling on the bed. Right in front of you, where you can see him; throbbing, the tip flushed red, aching for the touch of a woman. 

He gives himself a few firm tugs, before groaning out as his strokes get faster. His gaze locks on you. Your eyes blown wide, lips parted and tongue peeking out in thirst, as you arch your hips up towards him. 

“Fuck.” He leans forward to capture your lips, but your hand on his chest stops him halfway.

You look up at him in expectation, your eyes unsure of what it is you’re asking for.

“What is it? Are you okay?” He asks in earnest. 

“I … I want to see you … touch it.” You say, voice as soft as a kitten.

And Javier groans. He settles his legs on either side of you as his hand returns to his cock. You can see that he’s teasing himself, playing with the tip and smearing his precum down the underside. Is that for your benefit? It’s somehow become more than a little friendly stress relief between colleagues; he’s showing off for you.

“Baby!” You whine, hands grabbing at his forearms to stop him.

Well that was unexpected. But he liked it. Liked the way you were getting into it enough to call him baby. Releasing his cock from his grip, he looks at you. You reach for his soft brown curls again, pulling him down to your lips.

Between kisses, he taunts. “Thought you wanted to watch, princesa. Huh?”

“I’ve seen enough. I need you to … “

“Need me to what?” His expression plays at being serious, but his tone tells you he’s teasing. 

He knows you don’t want to say it, but he’s not letting you off that easily.

“I need you to … “ You begin, but you can’t say it. “I need you …” You beg, instead, wrapping a leg around his lower back in an attempt to get his cock inside of you.

Javier chuckles at this. He should’ve known you wouldn’t be willing to admit what you’re about to do. With a wrecked sigh, he grabs your thighs and pulls your sweet cunt onto his cock.

The sounds you both let out excite each other further, and as Javier opens you up on his hardness, you mewl at the stretch. It stings perfectly, reminding you, once again, that your experience is no match for his. You squirm on the bed desperately as he gives you more of himself.

“So tight.” He grits. “Doing so good, princesa. Taking me so well. Look at that … “ He marvels, looking down to where your pussy is stretched out around him. He pulls out slightly to show you how your juices have soaked him. “Already, huh?”

You let out a high pitch, girlish sound at the depraved sight. There couldn’t be any doubt. That was you. Your body taking his, and it fills you with a peculiar sense of pride.

He pulls out again, teasing your clit with the tip; tapping it against your nub until he’s satisfied that you’ll have to throw these sheets out with how wet you’ve gotten them. It catches on the rim of your hole a few times as he pushes it back inside, eventually getting tired of his own teasing and pushing in all the way.

“Fuck, yesss.” You praise, your hand fumbling to hold his. Javier gives you one of his hands and you intertwine it with your own, resting it atop your hip. His other hand, however, holds your leg, spreading it wide as he fucks into you deeply.

He’s on his knees, his back straight as he drives forward, and your hips are raised, almost as if you’re perched on his legs. Javier fucks you until you’re both spent, and as you both near your peaks, he crawls up to lean over you; mouth pressed to your ear, tongue licking at your skin whilst he fills your ear with pure filth. 

His change of position has you practically bent in half, your hips lifting off the bed as he pounds you down into the mattress.

“Princesa …” He rasps. “Need you to come on my cock … show me how much you like it.”

“J-Javi … “ Your hands tug at his hair roughly, cunt clenching down on his thickness.

His thumb rubs your clit faster now, as you get louder. “How much you like the way I fuck this sweet little pussy like it’s mine. Always so uptight, huh? Turns out you just needed to get fucked like one of my girls-”

You cry out as your orgasm hits you, and as you come all over him, Javier talks you through it. His thrusts now slower, but deeper. 

Again, you roll your head to the side, hoping to drown your cries in the pillow, but Javier quickly sets it back in place, needing to hear it all come out.

“That’s it. There’s my feisty princesa … let it all out.” He coos.

And he wants to sneak a glance at where you’re soaking him, but he’s taken by the innocent look in your eyes as you let go for him.

Forehead now pressed against yours, he kisses your face whilst soothing you with his soft gaze. And the way you’re looking back at him reassures Javier that his last comment didn’t offend you. 

Who knew you secretly liked his filthiness?

Satisfied you’re finished cumming, he pulls out and begins jerking himself over you.

“Javi, baby.” You coo. “I want to see you. Want to feel you on my skin.” 

It’s the gentleness within your voice that sends him over the edge and Javier comes in spurts, painting the skin above your mound with his seed. Some of it spills onto your pussy, too, and he feels another wave rush over him as he watches his cum coat your puffy hole. 

“Fuck.” He curses, nose nuzzling your throat before he collapses beside you. 

“Yeah … “ 

He places a quick kiss on your lips. “Did you enjoy yourself?” 

You nod, trying to curb your enthusiasm by biting your lip. But Javier can see through it, considering he’s an agent.

Or was it because he’d gotten better at reading you? 

“Thanks.” You offer awkwardly.

“Jesus Christ … “ A large hand palms his face. “Please tell me you didn’t just thank me. I’m not an escort, no matter what you might think.”

That has you giggling, quietly. 

“You know that’s not what I meant, Javier.”

Javier. 

So you were back to that, huh? Javier feels himself tense at the change of address.

Deciding to give himself a moment, he tells you. “I’ll be right back.” Before getting up and heading into the bathroom.

He returns a moment later with something to clean you up. As he softly swipes the cloth over your sensitive folds, he searches for something in your expression. Something he can’t seem to define.

Leave it alone, he reminds himself as he settles back on the bed, next to you. You feel his chest press against your side as he hovers over you, hand caressing your hip, whilst his eyes avoid yours.

“Well, um … I guess that’s it. Wow … “ You say, dazed, as though you’d never truly experienced pleasure before.

Without asking you, of course, he lights a cigarette. “Well, you know where to find me … “ He says, voice trailing off in implication.

“That won’t be necessary.” You chuckle. 

“I should probably get back to searching for a husband.”

“You know, I’ve got a five-year plan waiting on me.” You breathe, and Javier notices that you almost look unsure. “What about Van Ness? He’s one of your agents, right?”

“What about him?” He replies.

“I see him around the office … he’s cute. Is he single?” 

“Princesa … “ He groans, and you cut him off.

“I thought we were done with that whole thing now.” Your eyes dart around the room, suddenly shy. 

He hums in thought. “Never had a woman talk about another man whilst she’s in bed with me.” Tutting, he pretends to appear offended. 

Yes. Pretends.

You give him another girlish giggle, and it warms his blood again.

“Well … Is he single?” You repeat, eyes alight with hope.

Huffing out, he reaches over to the ashtray on the nightstand. “You’ll have to ask him.” 

“You haven’t thought it all through though. Not properly.” He says.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, where do you want to live when you’re married? Colombia?”

You shake your head.

“Van Ness is DEA. We’re the kind of guys that find it hard to settle down in one place. I can’t see him leaving Colombia just yet, not whilst the action’s still here … “ 

He’s got a point, though you hate to admit it.

“Whatever.” You groan. “No DEA guys then.”

“Except me.” He interjects, smirking at you.

“Including you!”

Stubbing out his cigarette, Javier moves his body over yours, looking down at you with a gaze so intensely affectionate, it renders you speechless.

But then his signature, winning smile returns. “What I’m hearing … princesa. Is that your search is futile, right now. As long as you’re in Colombia, anyway.”

His thumb traces your bottom lip, and you can’t help but open up for him. It seems as though he’s unlocked a new weapon to torment you with; his touch. As, currently, you’re unable to resist even the slightest sensation: a featherlight graze of his fingertips on your body.

“The way I see it. You might as well enjoy yourself some more. Marriage is always going to be there.” 

He winks at you, and you want to throttle him. Like that day in your office, when he’d interrupted your call. 

But you end up doing something else.

You close your lips around his thumb, sucking him further into your warmth, whilst simultaneously staring daggers into him. 

Always so stubborn, Javier’s reminded.

“There’s my feisty girl, huh?”

Thank you so much for reading! Please consider commenting or reblogging if you enjoyed it. <3

Taglist for this fic: @gracieispunk @queerponcho @darkerskylines @soaringcloud @kirsteng42

Shoutout to the bestie, @gracieispunk for helping me out with this and for taking my initial ideas to the next level with your genius. Eternally grateful for your support! <3

[fuedalreesespieces]

Inuyasha & Demisexuality

i think halfway into writing this i thought about just cramming all my thoughts into a semi-coherent rant due to a combination of a.) lack of access to decent translations of the manga and b.) paranoia about over-analyzing scenes and coming off as delusional (i think by now it's probably too late to thwart that claim) buuut this headcanon in particular is near and dear to me so i want to try and get as in depth as possible.

what is demisexuality?

in simple terms, demisexuality is when an individual doesn't experience primary attraction - that is, the sort of attraction based on immediate observable (often physical) characteristics - and instead only experiences secondary attraction first: the type of attraction that forms after the development of a deep emotional bond.

inuyasha and kikyo

this aforementioned term perfectly describes inuyasha and his relationships with the only women he's ever loved romantically. you could make the claim that his inability to feel primary attraction first stems from his trust issues and not inherent sexual orientation. and to that, i would disagree - he and kikyo develop an emotional bond despite an unspoken lack of trust, which may have improved had naraku not meddled in their lives. still, both find solace in each other's similarities, loneliness, and "outlier" status (though the similarities are in isolation only, if i'm being completely honest) and establish a connection that persists post-revival.

inuyasha eventually did start to feel primary attraction to kikyo during their time together - in the second chapter of the manga, when he compares kagome to her, he states that kikyo "looked pretty."

[source - viz. i haven't been in this fandom long, but what i've gathered is that there are a lot of mis-translations of this manga, even from viz. since i have yet to buy physical copies of the manga and don't have an account for the site, i'm going to be using fan-scans for the rest of these, which hopefully won't really affect what i'm trying to convey since i'll be looking at character expressions rather than dialogue for most of them.]

i'd also note the order in which he lists those traits: kikyo looked intelligent and pretty. her intelligent appearance is the first part of her he remembers, which i think underscores his priorities in this regard. he values things like intelligence and companionship - facets that come to light when developing secondary attraction towards someone - more than aspects of primary attraction.

inuyasha and kagome

as mentioned before, demisexuals don't feel physical attraction before establishing a tight emotional bond. the most blatant examples i could think of this were any instances in which inuyasha sees kagome nude and his difference in reaction - in particular, during the yura of the hair and togenkyo arcs, which are roughly seventy-three chapters apart. there are two new moons in that time, and from that we can say at least two months have passed.

chapter six: yura of the hair

kagome's bathing below him, and i'm sorry, but this expression literally screams "zero fucks given." he does not care in the slightest. not a blush. not a spot of red on his cheeks. not a sweatdrop. not a tee-hee. if i were to describe what he's feeling in this moment i would say "extreme ire." when she uses the sit command on him, it's on the assumption that he's "peeking," but kaede understands that it's actually because inuyasha is trying to steal a shard of the shikon jewel.

"huh?" - he sounds genuinely confused that she reached that conclusion, even though he was quite literally peering over the cliff's edge in what obviously has very perverse connotations. it's almost like he doesn't understand why kagome would think his actions come from a place of sexual attraction because that sort of thing just isn't on his mind at all, and he doesn't get why it would be in the first place.

another extremely blatant example can be see in miroku's introductory chapter: chapter 51, the delinquent priest:

do i even have to say anything. this scene also further emphasizes my previous point - before, the only reason he was there was to try and steal kagome's jewel shard. if his true intentions had been driven by primary attraction, this would have been an opportune moment to "peep." in his words, however, he just isn't interested. note that he could have said something along the lines of "i wouldn't do something like that" (which, if he was attracted to her in that way from the start, wouldn't have done anyway) but specifically i'm not interested. the primary attraction is not there in the slightest. at least, not until:

chapter eighty two: fateful night in togenkyo

the scene i'm talking about needs no introduction, but for context: kagome's half-freaking out after having woken up in a sake bath. inuyasha breaks down the door to come and rescue her, accidentally seeing her naked in the process. well, i'm sure his reaction won't be that dif-

...it's only one panel-

okay, two-

i think at this point it's fairly obvious that primary attraction has developed. besides the fact that he's spent three panels trying not to look like he's having a quasi allergic reaction, it's been approximately two months since they've met, and by now they've definitely formed the deep emotional bond required for him to begin feeling any primary attraction at all. in fact, the chapter where he tells kagome "there's no replacement for you" - that chapter, where he's vulnerable and honest and opening up to her, strengthening their bond further, (ch. 78, a tender smell) is directly before the togenkyo arc begins, and, thus, just before these scenes occur. these chapters have all been building up secondary attraction, and now that primary attraction is just starting to show up.

several chapters later we have this iconic panel from 173:

this is such a look of awe, as though he's gazing up at a goddess. jaw dropped, eyes-wide, words trailing off awe. he's entranced. fully head-over-heels in love, feeling both primary and secondary attraction in regards to kagome, and this trend only continues throughout the entirety of the manga.

conclusion + extra thoughts

my belief in this headcanon comes from not just the evidence depicted above, but because i just related a ton reading those scenes. i found myself just nodding along (as someone who's demisexual themselves!) plus, since ace-spectrum representation is so rare, it's nice to see it reflected in a character whose story and relationships i love dearly.

tags: @nightshade-lullaby

[idontknowreallyidontcare]

KÖNIG HC’S FOR MY KÖNIG GIRLS.

- I HC him as being definitely taller than your average man, but not his fanon height. Many people go with the narrative that he’s 6’10/2m 08cm’s, for what I understood this is a made up data, nowhere is it specified that he’s actually 6’10, so what I actually assign him is a height of 6’7, we know how Ghost is somewhere between 6’4/6’5 which it’s still pretty tall (1,89 cm), but we also know by comparing the models, that König is a bit taller, so I am kind of basing his height on this difference between him and Ghost. Also, knowing he could not be a sniper because of his height motivates me even more to think that he is indeed a guy bigger than your average. Again, it’s a personal HC, may or may not be shared, it’s not a canon attribute.

- As I already specified in some of my other posts, I view him as a clean individual, in a sense than he has a routine and will try to maintain it even on duty. Being at the barracks will not obstruct his routine, he washes his hair with shampoo and conditioner, he uses a particular face soap, made for his type of skin, and he uses body lotion instead of a bar of soap. It has to be said that he wasn’t always this organized, for example, thanks to you he got to buy the face wash that he now brings everywhere he goes, you kinda talked to him about using a bar of soap for all the body and explained to him how unhygienic was to use the same towel for face, body and cock/ass, because despite you being ‘clean’ after the shower, you’re still dragging bacteria form around your body onto your face and hair, overall you kinda motivated him to uplift his already good habits. He sometimes lets you do his skincare too, and when he remembers, he will actually put some face cream on. He’s still a bit fearful of coming as not very masculine, but you’re making him work on it, so he can accept that taking care of himself will never be a turn down for you, not when he’s already so hot for his age, he better maintain himself!

- Another critical point about our Köni is his age. We have a vague idea of how old he could be, many HC’ing him from 35 to late 40’s. My guess is he could be somewhere between 38 and 43, I do prefer him as a 39/40 years grandpa tho. Again, personal HC, do not take it as canon! I’d be happy honestly if they would reveal his age, probably because no matter what, I’d still simp even if he turned out to be 50 years lmaooooo.

- Yes, he does come from a village in the country side, but he did join military pretty young, so I HC him as being actually a pretty open minded individual. Remember he gets to work with technology every day, he knows what’s going on around the world, and him joining young actually was a benefit, because he got to form his own opinions in a place that welcomed every kind of human beings. He didn’t get to grow up from the hate he received at school so he kind of escaped a life where he could’ve easy became what we call an inc€l today. He grew some balls, got his priorities right. He was for sure subjected to some kind of morally wrong opinions that grew into him, that’s why you’re spending time on him, being patient and trying to explain to him many things he considered undeniable reality until he meet you. The classic ones are: males should not cry because only girls do, women can work but they would be better at home, men don’t pay attention to their physical appearance that’s for feminine boys, and many similar things. He’s slowly getting out of his habits, and you’re proud of him.

- Listen, people have mixed feelings about this one but imma say it, aside from shipping and all, König is not and will never be Homophobic. He does not have any problem with lgbt+ nor is he disturbed by couples openly showing affection in his presence. Early access to internet and a very religious family could have created the worst possible outcome for him, but he was never big into religion, already redeeming it a waste of time at a young age, but still attending church because of his mom. He knows some recruits are openly gay, he doesn’t see a problem nor does it bother him knowing he could be someone’s crush. Now I do HC him as completely straight, but again it’s MY way of imagining König, I still think that in an orgy or threesome with reader, if he trusts the other male part, he would not be against having their cocks in the same hole, rubbing against each other, or in general he would not be against having some skin to skin contact with another male because at the end he does it because it only benefits you.

- He is a perverted dog, not only because he is ‘old’ and has fucked young girls (not minors! He is not morally fucked up like that), or generally his sexual history is pretty normal for a man that age, he was just always eager to see, learn and search for what he felt was exciting to him. He had threesomes before us, he has sex, he did many things that gave him the skills and experience he’s been using on us, but yes overall I HC him as being the one that always had a porn journal under his pillow, he would even lend them around the barracks.

- He loves pussy. He eats it for HIS own pleasure okay? He would die between your legs. He cums only by eating you out. He gets drunk on pussy. Pussy is what he lives for. He’ll never die on field, living purely out of spite, because he’ll no! What do you mean he’s never gonna enjoy your pussy again if he dies! ABSOLUTELY NOT! He’ll get home, beaten, cut, stabbed, whatever, but he’ll be home to you, and he will lick your pussy for the rest of the night saying “this what’s keeping me alive honey”. And truth is you can’t deny it to him, because it’s so good, no matter the circumstances, it always brings him back home.

[alatismeni-theitsa]

Hi! I would like to know your opinion with the idea of how cruel the greek gods are represented in modern media (not always, but many times). We have Zeus's despictions as a bad king, a terrible dad and husband, a pervert who only want to impregnant women :/ And he is not the only one, so many male gods: Poseidon, Apollo, Ares... I already know that some myths portrayed them like this... But i don't think the idea lf those myths was: make the god looks like an asshole who don't respect women :/

We are talking mostly about US media, right? Let me know if you have something else in mind, but I can only recall their productions in this case.

I think there's a lack of understanding when it comes to how the Greek gods are/were viewed by Greek societies. Modern producers are approaching this ancient religion from a more recent, Christian lens. You are right: The idea of the myths wasn't to present the gods as villains. People back then had a different philosophy; that humans were at the mercy of the gods, and the gods were beyond "right and wrong" (in the human sense) but they were still just and they could assist humanity.

The myths where male gods couple with human women were symbolic, to explain how certain families or certain natural phenomena came to exist. As ancient Greek societies were extremely patriarchal, little thought was given to how the human women felt in these situations. Often, the women's perspective wasn't even mentioned because in those societies women's sexual desires weren't spoken about. In that cultural context, the women were also supposed to not want to have sex, to "preserve their honor". So even if they wanted to have sex with the gods, they were not supposed to show it, or the story was not supposed to show it, in order to portray them as "good women". Finally, the feelings of humans aren't given much consideration, because the will of the gods has a "higher" priority and a bigger purpose. For these reasons, the focus wasn't on the human women/mothers, and that's not the focus of these myths.

Don't get me wrong, I wouldn't like to be used by a god without my consent either. But these myths are not to be taken literally! They are just very simple explanations for certain phenomena, and you are not supposed to examine the feelings of gods and humans because this will make you miss the point. That's how these gods were seen as protectors of humanity despite the existence of these stories.

"Asshole", "terrible dad", "misogynist", "terrible husband" and other adjectives really have no point. People of course can joke a bit about how Zeus fucked everyone, but when they believe it literally it looks like they don't understand we are talking about gods. Gods don't care about what you think! Gods are forces of nature, gods are different than humans!

These are not views I support today, and - as I've said in the past - there was a reason the Roman societies (including the Greek one) turned to Christianity very fast. (They were given the option of a more merciful deity) However, I think it's important to understand the ancient gods if you want to portray them accurately, and not look like having the understanding of a toddler!

Sadly, the modern progressive movements don't examine the myths in their context, and as a result, they spend hours and hours ranting about how "horrible" the Greek gods are, about which... forgive me, but literally nobody cares.

If you ask Greek women today about their issues they're not gonna tell you "2.000 years ago we had myths where women were not given proper consent". We have much larger, and more real issues. It's usually Westerners with too much time and decent salaries who spend too many hours blaming ancient gods for being... ancient gods 😬 You can tell I am salty here because the femicides in Greece finally get to see the light of day and none of these Western women with degrees in Classics batted an eye. They rant right and left about ancient Greek fictional women and how "bad" the gods were while ignoring our ancient and modern reality.

[jamiesfootball]

Beautiful Damned You has got me on the ropes just from the idea of it

This one is further down on the priority list but very much alive in my head!

Some highlights I have mentioned before:

Jamie does not throw away The Beautiful and Damned

He reads it

He has strong feelings about it

He starts coming into practice with a nastier than usual bite towards Ted, who is rapidly losing ground and can't figure out why

Jamie accidentally keeps recreating that scene in The Office (US) where Michael is watching The Devil Wears Prada. Jamie keeps quoting parts of the book at Ted (or attempting to quote- look, he's paraphrasing, ok, but these are lethal strikes)

Ted takes a while to figure out what's going on because spoiler alert he has not actually read that book since like. Ninth grade.

So all of this is culminating and in the midst of it all the gala happens. Which, Ted in his Ted-wisdom is still optimistic. He thinks he can still work things out with Jamie. He also still needs Jamie and Roy to work things out with each other, so despite Beard's warning he goes ahead and seats them all at the same table.

That turns into the most epic of shit shows you could possibly imagine.

Because it is one thing for Ted to insinuate via literature that Jamie is like Anthony, the protagonist from TB&D, but to then insinuate that Keeley is anything like Gloria, someone shallow who only sees their value in their beauty and who looks down on other women? Or that Jamie would treat her like Anthony does?

Fuck you, Lasso.

And also, if you want to talk about shallow- he didn't even want to do this stupid gala in the first place. It's disgusting, and he's not gonna be putting out for any old ladies. He doesn't care if Ted kicks him off the starting line at this point - he's not doing it.

Keeley does not know what has gotten into Jamie, but she's officially concerned now. And poor Roy- he did not sign up for this. Ted was the one who stuck him at this table under the guise of making things work with Tartt. Now Tartt's stormed off, Keeley's flustered and upset and a little embarrassed, Ted's sitting there like looking someone's whacked him with a shovel.

It had to be Roy to go talk to him, didn't it? Couldn't be anyone else.

That didn't mean Roy isn't annoyed when it turns out all of this drama started because of a fucking book.

Roy ends up talking Jamie down by telling him he'll read the fucking book, because it's clear to him that part of what's got Jamie so riled up is that no one's really listening to his side of things or taking him seriously when he says that the gaffer just- doesn't fucking like him? And when Roy tries to pivot that actually Jamie is kind of a prick so it's probably not just the book, Jamie gets more upset, so yeah, Roy will read the book, and then Jamie can explain to him what's got him so twisted up about it.

So Roy reads the book.

Huh. Turns out he might be on Jamie's side of this after all.

[kerubimcrepin]

Liveblog - Dofus, livre 1 : Julith [PART 16]

Finally, we arrive at my most favourite scene of the entire movie: The battle against Atcham. And my most favorite music, too. Seriously, if you're reading this blog, and hadn't watched the movie yet, what are you doing? At least watch this scene!

Once again, we see Bakara fighting someone who is much older than her and has been to at least a single war.

She has absolutely no element of surprise, and he enters the fight on his own terms, — attacking her from behind, because her reaction time is way worse than his.

Just as in the last confrontation, he dodges and parries her blows. Mostly dodges. He's more agile in air than Kerubim, and gets to his enemy faster. As a trade-off, Kerubim attacked more often in between parrying Julith's blows, because his nunchucks are a sort of ranged weapon.

As already said — she is absolutely no match to him.

There are many implications here: first of all, Atcham may or may not like women. Second of all, he may or may not even have preferences, despite nobody likely wanting him fr.

This info is very important for lore discussions, everyone.

This battle was him playing with her. And he removes her from the battlefield just as nonchalantly as he won.

And here is my most favourite track in the entire movie...

I think 10yo kids have a superpower that lets them detect people's insecurities. That, or he's remembering what Kerubim told him about Atcham.

Interestingly, while his swords seem to be made of wood at a first glance to a person who hasn't watched this movie 20 times like yours truly, these two shots (besides all the sparkles that'll be flying off these swords when they begin fighting...) confirm that it is, very much, not wood. He isn't afraid of accidentally killing a university student, a random idiot, and a ten-year-old.

Judging from Joris's scared-ass face, he is also quite aware of what Atcham coming here with two shiny, sharp swords (currently pointed right at his head), means.

He's putting Joris in his place, here. He's the unarmed 10-year-old. What can he do to him at worst? Cry about it? Scream?

Another part of this is that he needs Joris to come to Julith mostly unharmed, and not missing any limbs. Which will be easier, if he's scared and compliant.

Bad news for Atcham: Joris's response to being belittled is the same as his.

Because this battle goes by very fast, due to Atcham and Joris both being very agile, it is interesting to look at it on a frame-by-frame basis, to see what they're actually doing to one another.

Joris has his hand in a fist. There is a big likelihood that he wasn't grabbing her bell, but punching Atcham, and this hypothesis seems quite likely when one sees how Atcham is thrown in the air by the impact.

Just from this little moment alone, it is probably obvious to Atcham that, despite Joris's age, it will be a very annoying battle at best, and a fair one at worst. But even being aware of this doesn't give him the time to react to Joris's moves.

After being punched in the face by Joris, he drops the bell, but interestingly, despite having all the time to grab it, Joris goes straight for his sword.

He has good priorities. Even if this battle is due to his worries about Lilotte, grabbing her bell and risking losing the opportunity to grab a weapon, would be far more detrimental.

Atcham hits Joris with his head 1-2 times, similarly to the way he will hit Ush in the future. This can point to either him borrowing other classes' techniques (the classic iop headbang), or to him developing this style when he was a child (when you're small, thin, and furless, the best way to defend yourself if some older kids are pinning you down would be to hit them with your head).

Also, interestingly, while Joris aims to hit Atcham with his sword lethally, Atcham keeps parrying his hits by either aiming at Joris's sword, or hitting him with his hands/legs/head. He can't exactly risk killing Julith's kid, — despite the numerous threats.

I had always viewed this scene as Joris's true ascent to adulthood — not hiding, but grabbing a sword, a tool of killing, into his hands, for the sake of whatever family he has left.

Besides that, I also think it is the scene that truly made Atcham and Joris family, — brothers, an uncle and a nephew. Atcham would never have listened to him, much less grow to respect and love him, had Joris not fought back at his insults.

I bet when he was little, Atcham fought back too, just as feverishly. This is something he respects a lot, ad I bet that he blames himself at least a bit for not being strong enough when he was a kid. A very dog-eat-dog mentality.

(puts on tinfoil hat) If Kerubim and Joris's bond is "violence forged through pure love", and then Joris and Atcham's is "pure love forged through violence".

[silviakundera]

I found your blog while watching for love's sake splendid drama and nice commentary from you I saw you watch chinese shows and I have a question am I dumb or because why are they so frustrating I don't know if it's because I'm used to japanese ones where there isn't much romance and this is how romance is written these days or is this a cultural thing because why every one of these I watch has such weird romantic relationships where this dude is breaking his back for her from day 1 and this dudette is out here acting like he's number 5 on her priority list?

yaassss Love for Love's Sake representation. I will never rest from reccing that drama 👏👏 you clearly are NOT dumb & have great taste 😘

for cdramas, my beloved, in my experience of watching in recent years is that there is such a wide breadth of genres & tones. There is just SO MUCH. Definitely chinese entertainment has its own tropes and way of portraying romance. And you either like or you don't. But there are many different flavors. If you feel like you were seeing the same dynamic repeatedly, it may have been bad luck.

If you prefer minimal romance, there are definitely options for that in cdramas! There are mystery/investigation dramas and wuxia martial arts dramas with little to no romance. Because of censorship the gay romances naturally are circumspect and light on the romance (see: The Untamed, Couple of Mirrors, Word of Honor, Spirealm, Guardian). Since you like Love for Love's Sake, I'd rec The Spirealm on Viki - also queer love story about a guy who enters a video game and the people he meets there become real to him; though warning it IS censored and that means the ending is more ambiguous. I can't promise you'll like it. (Semantic Error and Eighth Sense are my other 2 fav korean gay romances btw. )

There are also cdramas that do include romance but in terms of screen time the romance is like 30% of scenes and the plot & character arcs are 70% of scenes. Like in Blossoms in Adversity that I'm watching now, yeah there is most definitely romance but the FL/ML romance scenes compromise like 25% of the overall screen time. It's about way more than who she might marry.

But also in terms of cultural differences? hmm idk because I'm not chinese. I really should NOT speak like I understand their PoV. From an outsider's perspective, I have felt like there are many cdramas with overtly feminist themes - commentary about restrictions on women, the challenges of navigating through a society that can be unfair and entrenched with misogyny. (I joke and yet not that chinese entertainment seems to have 3 propaganda drums that it beats: nationalism/unification, anti-war, and feminism.) It's certainly a fact that many cdramas feature female characters that fall in love but they maintain other priorites & don't let themselves be subsumed in devotion to a man. They have romance & find love but "keep their eye on the prize."

My best guess (??) about this is that it's a rebellion against old cultural mores about women's role being subserviant to father then husband, when during imperial times a woman was expected to prioritze her husband and his family above her own wants, health, and happiness. (It was immoral to be jealous or not follow direction from the man.) Modern chinese screenwriters, both men and women, appear to be writing for an audience that will respect & support the idea of a woman who has her own agenda and maintains focus on her goals despite her love for the ML. Perhaps because this is viewed as moving away from "old thinking". idk.

I presume the target audience in china for romance dramas simply doesn't worry so much that the ML is getting loved enough & aren't as sensitive to thinking he might be at a disadvantage... They're aware society is already set up to his advatange & for much of history he would have all the power in the relationship. (He might bend now and be giving it his all, but the audience knows he can tap into more power & control at will. if she gives up control & her goals, it will be harder for her to recover & reclaim status/money/power compared to him. There are dramas I've seen that pretty much explicitly state that FL wants to earn her own status and money that is hers, thru her own efforts, not lent by him - not prestige or wealth that comes through him and thus could be taken away).

Personally I don't view this as unromantic, just the practical realities of existing in a patriarchal society. (cdramas can hit different imo because they can be blunt about how people operate based on self-interest & pettiness, the realities of classism, the ugliness of rumors, how judgmental people can be about appearances, how you can't always get justice when wronged. Reminds me of the Discworld books that were very frank about how the common people commonly are. It's not saying: this is how people should be; it's saying: this is how things are, the bitterness of life, but you can still find sweetness & meaning within it)

There's another aspect: some cdramas have male protagonists (e.g. Mysterious Lotus Casebook, Blood of Youth, League of Nobleman, Eternal Brotherhood) and some have female protagonists. If you're watching a female protagonist, as the protagonist her priorities & goals are the story driver. So her love interest will take a back seat to that even though it's a romance. He's a support role - his job in the story is to break his back for the protagonist. (A Journey to Love is an example where ML and FL share the protagonist role & you can see that in how things play out, how they each have separate priorities that don't get dropped for love.)

At the end of the day, there are plenty of cdrama romances where I ship it hard and feel a mutual love & devotion between the couple. My fav flavor is where both FL and ML have their own strengths and can be counted on to support each other. I'm not keeping score on who owes who, and neither are they.

But it's all not gonna to be to everyone's taste and that's fine. :) When it comes to international tv, if we enjoy content from other countries then it's our good luck. But if we don't...well, it wasn't made for us. That's ok.

[sepdet]

Have you SEEN the original moon landing feed, especially the scary bit near the end?

Now stay with me. I grew up hearing about these few minutes from my parents (in fact I took the TV they watched it on to grad school; DS9 and Babylon5 worked well in b&w).

This is even crazier than it looks like.

My parents were both scientists, my grandmother a planetarium director, and my dad was just about to land his job at a rocket company that built 95 small rockets that were part of the UpGoer Saturn V. (Yeah. Just the small ones. Saturn V was a BEAST.)

So my parents had a fair idea how dangerous this was, how Neil going manual was a bad sign, and just how close he was to running empty and crashing. They knew the problem that every ounce of fuel you carry requires even more fuel to lift off, so the Eagle was built light, carrying no excess weight even in fuel (it had to lift off the Moon with no rocket, after all).

But they didn't learn until years later just how jury-rigged and bespoke Apollo technology was. Every vehicle and part was designed like a Mythbusters build: extremely customized for the procedures it had to accomplish, using parts and even technology invented for specific mission tasks.

rope memory, predecessor to modern silicon chips: 1s and 0s woven by women (of course) at a Massachusetts textile plant

At the time, computers were the size of rooms and very touchy. Apollo's computer memory was core rope memory, never used before or since, to save space. The read/write guidance computer, too, was woven: physical media could better survive the rigors of space travel. (I suspect even my parents don't know it also used some of the very first integrated circuits, soldered by hand under a microscope by Navajo women).

Spacesuits were (and still are) designed and hand-stitched by Playtex bramakers. The lunar rovers' wheels were titanium meshes woven with piano wire to let dust through, and even had a clever navigation system despite no GPS or magnetic north.

They couldn't test these rigs with computer modeling. They didn't know for sure what the moon's surface would be like, apart from basic parameters like low gravity and near vacuum and a temperature ranging from 250°F in the sun to -250° in the shade. And it was nearly impossible to test for or practice in those conditions on Earth.

And then there were the unknowns. A massive solar flare between Apollo 16 and 17 might have killed or sickened them too much to operate their ship.

While the spacesuit and to some extent the rover design carried on, a lot of these hacks were so unusual that they might as well be alien tech. (I'm sorry woven technology fell out of vogue for several decades.) That goes some way towards explaining why humans haven't left Earth orbit since I was two.

The other problem, of course, is expense. Tech for human space exploration requires as much R&D and testing as fighter planes, which have developed through a century of multiple countries' military budgets. Human space programs are lucky to last two presidents; the next president usually doesn't think giving glory to his predecessor is a good use of money.

So for 40 years, NASA has mostly worked with other countries on human spaceflight or built robot explorers that can be launched in 3-4 years before Congress or the president can axe the program. They're less likely to shut down a mission when 99.99% of the money's been spent, and all that's left to do is download data and uplink occasional instructions.

TL:DR; Congress and the White House keep flashing the equivalent of that computer error message, every time NASA gets ready to send humans into space again. Overload. Abort mission.

Unless, you know, American citizens start saying Go. Go. Go. Go. We have some pretty important priorities down here on Earth (which Amazon and Disney and oil companies should be footing the bill for, though they try not to), but I bet the military can cough up the cost of a few fighter jets.

[gingerylangylang1979]

Carmy and Claire... ooof

I’m just gonna get into it. 

She tried to be Carmy’s Pete

I feel like Claire is supposed to be Carmy’s Pete, but it doesn’t work because Carmy is not Sugar. I was searching for a parallel to how they were trying to show Claire as a balancing force for Carmy. Which I get. Opposites attract. You see that with Nat and Pete but for some reason it doesn’t work with Carmy because he is so much more ill adjusted than Sugar. Claire, despite being super understanding, also never saw the worst of Carmy. He reserved the worst for the restaurant and used her as an escape. He reserved the worst for Sydney. So Claire was never truly tested or trusted to see it all so of course she easily loved him. They never argued. I did like the softness and gentleness we saw. Carmy needs that, but it just wasn’t totally honest because they were in the honeymoon phase and he was on best behavior just for her. What if she was struggling at some point, would he be able to be there for her in the same way? No. I think this was a perfect example of a woman thinking she can fix a man. The problem is she never saw how deeply he is broken. 

Carmy created a love bubble

Carmy never set boundaries and said this is what I can give while I’m on this new project. So she got a false sense of what his world really is and what his priorities needed to be. She has a busy job too but it seemed he accommodated her so in a sense she never really saw the actual reality of them both working like crazy and him coming home stressed. He created a bubble of perfection with her at the center that was never going to be sustainable. 

The whole portrayal was lame. 

Not gonna lie, I did like seeing romantic Carmy, for personal reasons. If my one positive takeaway is yes he wants to fuck women, yes he can be gentle, that’s a win for me. BUT the overall tone just wasn't hitting. Which gets to a bigger gripe about the tone of most of the episodes not hitting for me. It felt very primetime drama for me with the dialogue equivalent to a teen show. They even went to what looked like a frat party. Her lines were very, “I’m the perfect, quirky, understanding girl with no problems of my own,” and he got throwaways like, “She’s so great it scares me.” Just really mediocre compared to dialogue we’ve seen written for this show. And the fireworks kiss? Come on! I was expecting running in the rain to happen at any moment. I couldn’t tell if the writers wanted me to be invested in them or not. I guess maybe they were trying to make a reliving of Carmy’s lost youth, quite literally? I dunno. It felt sweet at times but also just super corny and out of place on this show. 

Is she a pick me? 

I actually hate this term. I feel it’s used so flippantly and can be hurled at any woman like a slur. But saying it defines what I mean so forgive me. Claire got the red flag literally from day one. He gave her the wrong number but she still pursued him. She questioned him on it a few times until she got a real answer but his answer was kind of bland. He just said I like you so much and don’t want to mess up. I dunno, when I’ve heard that from a man in the past, they usually do mess the fuck up, big time. This is their way of letting you know. She obviously didn’t ask to define the relationship. Carmy works it out with the crew so they never had the conversation with each other. The whole girlfriend/girl who is a friend thing was so lame for a grown adult man to need to ask about. Sydney was right to punk him and be like which is it? Exactly how important is this? So was Claire never questioning what they were this whole time? She said I love you to him first, I think? She said it on the voice message, which I thought was a bit bizarre. He said he loved her to other people but we never saw him say it to her face. I think it was just really strange that we never got a scene of them saying it to each other. Sorry, I’m old fashioned, the man needs to say it first, to a woman’s face. I feel this is one step away from a woman proposing to a man which is also a no for me. 

I didn’t understand the family connection 

They all know her yet we hear nothing about her from them and Carmy has been home quite awhile at this point. Fak has her number? They call her Claire Bear? They don’t call anyone not immediate family Bear so why does she get that? Because it rhymes? Eeek. She is supposedly so close with them all but we never see them interact with her until she dates Carmy? Sugar never mentioned her. Did he have a crush in high school or did he just wish they were friends before? When Mikey, Richie, and Fak try to push her on him at Christmas he seems really disinterested. Was it just a self esteem thing, that he was put on the spot, he didn’t want a relationship, or just didn’t have a crush on her like that? It’s really unclear what that was about. And then she knows about The Bear name but he says he wishes she talked to him more. So when was this conversation? It’s just really sloppy and none of the details align. Everyone treats her like she was so close to the family but there’s no real evidence of that from the past that makes any sense. I’ve seen some fans say Carmy connected her with his family trauma and that’s why it can’t work. I don’t really get that. Maybe that’s what they tried to write but I’m not getting how when it seems the family connection is just them trying to set him up with her. Am I missing something?

Will they explore this again?

I think it’s hard to tell. It is interesting that they started in the refrigerated section and it ended because Carmy was trapped in a fridge. Cold, literally. The use of the blue light when they were in bed and the blue light when Carmy was trapped was interesting. Does it mean finality? I don’t know. She didn’t even get a last name. They didn’t really end it face to face. Would they explore it again if Carmy is more stable? At this point I have no idea what they intend but I can’t conclude it’s done, done. Overall, the fan reactions have been negative. I’m not sure if the show cares or not. If I were her I would stay away. Repeat relationships rarely work out because trust is broken. How would she be able to trust Carmy again? Even if feelings are still there I would feel duped if I were her. 

Thoughts?

[thethirdromana]

If you think about it, both Dorian and Dracula were ruining/taking lives while maintaining/regaining youth. Though there's no portrait in Dracula's case, unless you count his oldness going to youthful Jonathan.

You're right, the more you look for parallels the more considerable they become.

Going to pop the rest of this under a cut for Dracula spoilers and discussion of suicide.

While Jonathan doesn't explicitly age like the portrait does, he undoubtedly looks older once Dracula has finished preying on him than he did at the start, as well as the other ways in which he and Dracula swap places (e.g. Dracula going out wearing Jonathan's clothes).

Association with both of them is damning too. In Dracula's case literally, as the people he feeds on become vampires in turn. In Dorian's case because he drags his victims down with him. Sometimes that is also literal: it includes two deaths by suicide, namely Alan Campbell and "that wretched boy in the Guards", and suicide is traditionally a mortal sin.

There are parallels in their victims. Dorian makes use of social convention to avoid the consequences of his actions, particularly as an upper-class man who preys on lower-class women (among others); an affair with him is socially ruinous for women but he comes out nearly unscathed. Dracula doesn't choose his victims quite as deliberately, but his choice of Lucy has the same effect. For instance, when Dracula lures Lucy out of the house in Whitby, Mina's first priority is to keep that a secret for the sake of her reputation.

They are both at their most powerful in their own spheres: Dracula in Transylvania, Dorian among London high society. They struggle when they step outside those spheres: the people in the opium den come much closer to recognising Dorian for what he is that anyone from the upper classes; Dracula is foiled by travelling to England. We don't see Dorian leave the country (we know he goes on holiday, but that doesn't really count) but I feel like if he went fully out of his sphere, he might be more readily identified. (A factor here is that Bram Stoker is more willing to demonise a foreigner than Oscar Wilde is willing to demonise the British upper classes).

And writing this has made me realise that pop culture Dracula - suave, sexy, encouraging people to lose their inhibitions - actually resembles Dorian quite a bit more than actual Dracula.

There's also at least one difference where you might expect a similarity. A key theme in Dracula is the relationship between the generations: Dracula is old age eating youth, Van Helsing is old age guiding and advising youth.

Meanwhile, something that strikes me about Dorian Gray that it's oddly timeless; we get told that twenty years have passed, but there's never much of a sense of that beyond everyone else looking older and Dorian remaining unchanged. No one has children, no one dies of old age, society and technology seem much the same from the start of the 20-year span of the novel to the end, despite the significant changes of the late 19th century.

And that timelessness, I think, is part of how little the novel is interested in the relationships between generations. There's not much sense that Dorian is now a middle-aged man (by Victorian standards, don't get annoyed with me, I'm in my 30s too) acting out a young man's role. There could be, it would be consistent with the plot, but that's not something that Wilde explores. There is a very strong message that Dorian should be a better person but not that he's behaving in an age-inappropriate way.

(I wonder if this relates to the novel's autobiographical elements. It can be fun and sexy to think of yourself as debauched and evil and corrupting but not so much as someone who's just been acting like a teenager for a decade too long).

This plays into other things as well. Dracula is a deliberately modern novel: it has telegrams, typewriters and trains. It's the battle of the modern against the medieval. Dorian Gray doesn't have any of these things. The conversation in chapter 3 about Americans is very much of its time, but there's not much else that places the action anywhere in the 19th century in particular. Dorian Gray is captured by a portrait, not a photograph. And he lives an oddly old-fashioned life, in some ways, for someone who is supposed to represent the Spirit of the Age. That's not a criticism of the novel, but it feels notable. It makes me wonder how Dorian Gray might have differed if Dracula had been written first and Wilde had read it.

Anyway, that was probably more rambling than you wanted, anon, but thank you for the ask, it was fun to consider :)

[yumeka-sxf]

A chronological analysis on Twilight and Yor - Part 11

*This is part of an ongoing post series. If you missed the Introduction/Part 1, click here*

----------

When the "doggy crisis" is finally resolved and the Forgers are reunited, Twilight rightfully chews Anya out for running off by herself. But he then softens and asks if she's hurt, and when she tells him that Bond protected her, he makes sure to give the dog a sincere thank you for saving his daughter. As I said before, anyone who shows respect to animals gets character points to me, especially someone like Twilight whose line of work makes him distrustful of everyone and everything. It's not like he had any reason to gain Bond's favor at that moment – he genuinely felt gratitude for the dog and wanted to express it.

And of course, in classic Spy x Family fashion, Twilight's fib about being stuck in the bathroom the whole time causes the overly self-conscious Yor to assume it's from the awful breakfast she made (something that will have repercussions later).

When they go on their first outing with Bond at the park, Twilight muses to himself about life post-Operation Strix, something he hadn't done since he first adopted Anya. Compared to back then when he flatly stated that he'll send Anya back to the orphanage when it's all over, this time he says that the agency will do what they can for Anya and Yor even though he won't see them again.

It's obvious that Yor is attached to Anya, so he knows she would have no reason to abandon her even if he left the family. The terrorist crisis that had just occurred made him remember that his ultimate goal of ending the cold war is top priority. He reinforces his utilitarian view that this is what's most important for everyone's future even if it means sacrificing some happiness along the way…like Anya's, Yor's, and, though he won't admit it, his own.

Twilight does seem to feel regret about this as he recalls that he just told Anya that she has a responsibility to care for the newly adopted Bond for the rest of his life, yet he won't be doing the same for the child he adopted.

As for why he says he would never be able to see Anya and Yor again, in his mind, maintaining a relationship that's unnecessary for his work would just be a hindrance. I also think that he wouldn't want to put them in danger by having any association with him – they had just gotten dragged into the terrorist mission he was trying to take care of after all. I imagine he plans to do something like fake the death/disappearance of Loid Forger, or maybe say/do things to Anya and Yor that would make them hate him so he could easily break ties with them (hopefully that's not the case as that would be too heartbreaking! Of course, he wouldn't be able to fool Anya…but I digress). Either scenario would result in him not being able to see them again, at least not as the Loid Forger they've come to know.

Twilight reminds himself of this again soon after when he tries to help Franky woo the girl he has a crush on (which ends in failure). When they're drinking together at the bar, he tells Franky that people like them can't afford to have feelings for others as it would only end badly.

At this point in the series, we know that Twilight has at least some feelings for Yor and Anya (which will be pointed out by Nightfall soon) so perhaps he's saying this also as a reprimand to himself as well as a reminder to Franky? But Franky tends to be a "pot calling the kettle black," since he's the one who told Twilight back when they were pretending to be SSS agents to keep his emotions out of his daily life, yet Franky tries to pursue relationships with women left and right, without any emotional restraint (and will continue to do so even after he and Twilight have this conversation). And then there's Nightfall who, despite her constant poker face, does nothing but imagine lovey-dovey scenarios with herself and Twilight. Seems that, as much as spy people preach about keeping emotions out of the picture, emotions seep through even harder than normal. But while Franky and Nightfall don't lie to themselves about these feelings, Twilight does…will that make it all the more torturous for him when he can lie no longer?

Continue to Part 12 ->

<- Return to Part 10

[braineater444]

To Be A Princess: Fashion Boys

I really think about fashion and aesthetics a lot when writing To Be A Princess and I would like to show you what I Imagine they’re wearing and explain a bit. This post will only include the Haintani brothers and Sanzu because they’re my favorites lol. I do have boards for everyone except Mikey but I’m lazy so??? Ask and you shall receive???

Ran Haitani

Has a complex. Fully thinks he should be a movie star and a prince and everything else good. May actually be a narcissist, but is definitely a sociopath.

He has a rather complex and sad internal world?? And so it manifests in his fashion being a bit emo??? Lots of black and white with little room for color.

It is about being chic for him. He’s tall and thin and he thoroughly enjoys being asked if he’s a model.

He sometimes shops in women’s stores and will pay for clothes he likes out of other peoples closets.

He never fully gave up the gloves. He doesn’t really like touching other people. He’ll do it, but only because he has to.

He knows he has a nice waist and will wear clothes that always effectively show that off.

Tabi enjoyer. Trying (with a little bit of success) to get his little brother into it.

Carries a bag sometimes and that bag carries a gun. Maybe a flask too. He likes to have fun.

He loves designer brands and will wear them with pride.

His jewelry collection is pretty decent and he does buy nice jewelry as gifts as opposed to actually saying “I love you” or marrying any of the people he’s way too old to be leading on.

Has come to terms with the fact that he will most likely be killed as opposed to dying of natural causes, so he dresses like he’s going in the casket at any moment.

Rindou Haitani

Modern day Steel Ball Run sex pot.

He’s weird and so he’s a reverse weeb. His fashion is very American core.

He’s becoming more like his brother in not wearing his glasses, but when he does wear glasses they’re gentle monster.

He takes notes from Ran in his enjoyment of furs, but he likes them to be a little weirder. He likes patterns and strange textures.

Wears straight leg or boot cut jeans to elongate himself because he’s not very tall. Of course, with a heeled boot.

Lots of blue because he misses his blue hair, but matching with his brother is a priority despite being grown as fuck.

He enjoys a nice authentic leather as well as fur because?? He kills people. He doesn’t care about those animals. Cows make great accessories. Srry.

He likes lamb leather even more. It’s so much softer.

Bought a girl a lamb leather bag once and never saw her again. He’s not broken up about it though. Women don’t like him. He’s strange.

He doesn’t wear a lot of jewelry but when he does it’s most likely going to be a ring and it most likely something Ran bought for him to match.

He really loves gold pinky rings. That’s major fashion to him.

He likes tight shirts that show off his pecs.

Thinks about getting a leather holster more often than he should.

Haruchiyo “Sanzu”

Eclectic and free

Wears lots of jewelry to compensate for what he feels like he lacks and because people addicted to drugs wear a lot of jewelry (from what I’ve seen).

He likes color and happiness but often it’s all drowned out.

He doesn’t like when his clothes are too tight. He likes room to move and hates feeling constrained by his clothes.

He doesn’t feel beautiful, so he wears a lot of sparkly things.

He looks at the Haitani brothers and goes “I could do that” and then does something strange instead.

There’s a subtle jealousy of the Haitani brothers and how people flock to and love them. More than anything, he wants to be loved. Especially by Mikey, but… he’s fine being sparkly beside him.

He always needs pockets. He’s got things to hold. Dime bags, guns, a flower he picked and forgot about and now it’s dead.

Some of his clothes are just Ran and Koko’s clothes. Koko usually doesn’t notice until he see’s Sanzu in them.

“Koko, we’re the same size. Just let me keep it.”

When Ran knocked his teeth out, it was Koko’s shirt that he bled all over. And it’s still sitting covered in blood.

He has a tennis bracelet from Ran that he stacks with others all the time.

Sometimes he feels insecure about his face so he’ll wear a mask when doing errands like shopping, but he tries not to.

He’s having fun. He thinks.