#hello goodbye and everything in between edits

[dejavuedits]

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[honeyslibrary]

Native Tongue | Nico Hischier

Pairing; Nico Hischier x Fem!Reader

Warning(s); Smut, cursing? (can’t remember lol), fluff, established relationship, edited once

Summary; Reader asks Nico to teach her some Swiss German

Word Count; 4.6k

Authors Note: This is so simple and the smut is more rushed than I’d like but I still love this so much. This was my first time writing for Nico and I’d say I did pretty okay? Translations are from Google so hopefully those aren’t too butchered 🙏🏽 Love you guys!! Accepting requests for Nico pls send if you have any 🩵🩵 -Honey

P.S: Scrolling Pinterest to find pics for the title/cover and oh my God is he beautiful. The brown eyes and dimples combo will do it every time I’m actually giggling at work I want him sooooo badly

The soft glow of a bedside lamp cast shadows across Nico's apartment, the warm light complementing the muted tones of his bedroom. Outside, Newark was alive with its usual evening bustle, but inside, time seemed to slow to a gentle rhythm. It was one of those rare off nights during the season. No game, no travel, just time to breathe.

You had been dating Nico Hischier for just over three weeks now. Everything still carried that new relationship electricity: the flutter in your stomach when he texted, the warmth that spread through your chest when he smiled at you across a room, the way his Swiss accent thickened when he was tired or excited.

Tonight was simple. No fancy dinner reservations or planned activities, just you and him, lying on his bed, shoulders touching, talking about anything that crossed your minds. The conversation flowed easily between you, jumping from childhood memories to favorite movies to plans for the upcoming weekend.

His hand was resting in yours, and you traced the lines of his palm with your fingertips, feeling the calluses that told stories of countless hours gripping a hockey stick. These were the hands that had cradled pucks, won face-offs, and occasionally, thrown punches in defense of teammates. Now, they were relaxed in yours, trusting.

"Does this feel good?" you asked, pressing your thumb into the center of his palm in small, circular motions.

He hummed in contentment. "Very. Where did you learn to do this?"

"I had a friend who was a massage therapist. She taught me a few things." You continued working on his hand, moving to his fingers, gently pulling and stretching each one. "Hockey players need hand massages, right? All that stick handling."

He chuckled, the sound low and warm. "It's not something we talk about, but yes. Hands, wrists... they take a beating."

"Well, consider this a service to the Devils, then. I'm helping maintain their captain."

His smile was visible even in your peripheral vision. "Very thoughtful of you."

You both fell quiet for a moment, comfortable in the silence. The soft whirr of the heating system provided a gentle backdrop to your thoughts. Outside, a car horn honked, distant and unimportant.

"Can I ask you something?" you said finally, your voice soft in the dimly lit room.

"Anything."

"Would you teach me some Swiss German? Just a few phrases?"

Nico turned his head to look at you, his expression curious. "Really? Why?"

You shrugged, still focused on massaging his hand. "I don't know. It's part of who you are. I want to know all parts of you." You paused, suddenly feeling a bit vulnerable. "Plus, I think it sounds beautiful when you speak it."

He was quiet for a moment, and you worried you'd said something wrong. But when you finally looked at him, his eyes were soft with an emotion you couldn't quite name.

"That's... no one has ever asked me that before." He shifted to face you better. "What would you like to learn?"

You grinned, excited. "Start with the basics? Hello, goodbye, thank you?"

Nico nodded, looking thoughtful. "Alright. So, 'hello' is 'grüezi' in Swiss German."

"Grüezi," you repeated, the unfamiliar word clumsy on your tongue.

His smile widened. "Not bad for a first try. Try again, but it's more like... 'GRÜE-tzi' with emphasis on the first part."

"Grüezi," you attempted again, trying to mimic his pronunciation.

"Better! Now, 'goodbye' can be 'uf widerluege'."

You laughed. "That's a mouthful. Uf... wider..."

"Widerluege," he finished, his voice patient. "It literally means 'until we see each other again'."

"That's actually beautiful. Uf widerluege," you tried, the words feeling foreign but fascinating on your lips.

"And 'thank you' is 'merci vielmal'."

"That sounds part French!"

Nico nodded. "Swiss German borrows from many languages. We're surrounded by different cultures."

"Merci vielmal," you said, feeling proud when his eyes lit up at your decent pronunciation.

"Perfect! You're a natural."

The praise warmed you. "What else can you teach me?"

Nico thought for a moment. "How about... 'I like you'? That's 'Ich mag dich'."

"Ich mag dich," you repeated, looking directly into his eyes as you said it.

Something shifted in his expression, his eyes darkening slightly. "Very good."

"And how would you say 'I really like you'?" you asked, your voice dropping to just above a whisper.

"Ich mag dich würklich sehr," he replied, his voice equally soft.

You repeated the phrase slowly, "Ich mag dich würklich sehr."

His eyes never left yours as you spoke, and you noticed the way his breathing seemed to have quickened slightly. Feeling emboldened, you placed his hand down and shifted to face him fully.

"What about..." you hesitated, "how would you say 'kiss me'?"

The atmosphere in the room changed, charged with unspoken tension. Nico's eyes dropped to your lips for a brief moment before meeting your gaze again.

"Küss mich," he said, his accent thicker than before.

"Küss mich," you whispered.

He didn't move immediately, his eyes searching yours for confirmation. Then, slowly, he leaned in, his hand coming up to cup your cheek as his lips met yours in a soft, questioning kiss.

When he pulled back, his expression was serious, almost lustful. "Say something else," he requested, his voice rougher than before.

"What should I say?"

"Anything," he replied. "Just... in Swiss German."

You cast your mind back to the phrases he'd taught you, feeling a strange power in knowing how much it affected him to hear you speak his native language.

"Grüezi," you said softly, watching his reaction. "Ich mag dich würklich sehr."

His exhale was shaky. "Again," he whispered.

"Küss mich," you repeated, more confidently this time.

He closed the distance between you once more, this kiss deeper, more certain. His hand moved from your cheek to the back of your neck, pulling you closer, and you responded eagerly, your own hand coming to rest on his chest, feeling his heartbeat quicken under your palm.

When you separated, both of you were breathing harder. The look in his eyes was intense, almost vulnerable in its honesty.

"You have no idea what it does to me," he admitted, his voice low, "hearing you speak my language."

"I think I'm getting an idea," you replied with a small smile. "How do you say 'I want you'?"

His eyes darkened further. "Ich will dich."

"Ich will dich," you repeated, maintaining eye contact.

A soft groan escaped him. "Your pronunciation is terrible," he said, but his tone was affectionate, teasing.

"Then teach me," you challenged, shifting closer to him.

"Say it again," he instructed, his hand now resting on your waist.

"Ich will dich."

"The 'ch' is deeper, from the back of your throat," he explained, his fingers drawing small circles on your hip.

You tried again, inadvertently making the same mistake.

He shook his head, a smile playing at his lips despite the intensity in his eyes. "No, listen to me. Ich."

"Ich," you repeated, still not quite getting it right.

"Here," he said, bringing his hand up to touch your throat gently. "You feel it here when you say it correctly."

You tried again, focusing on the sensation under his fingertips.

"Better," he nodded, his eyes never leaving yours. "Now the whole phrase."

"Ich will dich."

"Perfect," he whispered, and then his lips were on yours again, more urgent this time, his hand sliding from your throat to your hair, fingers tangling in it as he pulled you closer.

You responded in kind, your hand moving up his chest to his shoulder, then to the back of his neck, feeling the short hairs there. The kiss deepened, his tongue seeking entrance, which you granted readily, a small sound of pleasure escaping you.

He pulled back slightly, his forehead resting against yours, both of you catching your breath. "How do you say 'beautiful'?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

"Schön," he replied, equally quiet.

"Du bist schön," you attempted, guessing at the structure.

His eyes widened slightly in surprise before crinkling at the corners with his smile. "That's right. You're learning quickly."

"I have a good teacher," you replied, running your fingers lightly through his hair.

He closed his eyes briefly at your touch, then opened them again, his gaze intense. "It's strange," he said softly.

"What is?" you asked, still running your fingers through his hair.

"Hearing someone speak my language... it's like hearing a piece of home." He caught your hand in his, bringing it to his lips to kiss your knuckles. "Especially someone I care about."

The tenderness in his gesture made your heart flutter. "Even if my pronunciation is terrible?"

"Especially then," he laughed softly. "It's... I don't know how to explain it. When you speak English, you're just you. But when you try to speak Swiss German..." He paused, seeming to search for the right words. "It's like you're reaching for a part of me that not many people here get to see."

You felt a warmth spread through your chest at his words. "I want to see all parts of you, Nico."

His eyes darkened at that, and he shifted slightly, bringing himself closer to you. "Say it again," he murmured.

"What?"

"Ich will dich," he prompted.

You repeated the phrase, trying your best to match his pronunciation, "Ich will dich."

A small groan escaped him, and he leaned in, capturing your lips in a kiss that was deeper, more urgent than before. His hand moved to cup your face, thumb stroking your cheek as his tongue sought entrance, which you granted eagerly.

When you broke apart, both breathing heavily, there was an unmistakable hunger in his eyes. "I don't know why it affects me so much," he admitted. "Hearing you speak Swiss German. It just... does something to me."

You smiled, feeling a surge of power at the knowledge. "Then I should probably keep practicing," you said, your tone deliberately innocent even as you shifted closer, eliminating the last bit of space between your bodies.

"Absolutely," he agreed, his hand moving to your waist, fingers slipping just under the hem of your shirt to touch bare skin. "It's important to practice."

"Küss mich," you whispered, remembering the phrase he'd taught you earlier.

He didn't need to be told twice, his lips finding yours again as his hand splayed across your lower back, pulling you flush against him. You could feel the heat of his body through your clothes, the solid strength of him as he held you.

"One more phrase," you breathed when you separated for air. "How do you say 'I want you to touch me'?"

His eyes, already dark with desire, seemed to grow even more intense. "Ich will, dass du mich berührst," he replied, his accent thicker than usual.

You tried to repeat it, stumbling over the unfamiliar sounds, and he smiled, the expression somehow both tender and predatory.

"Close enough," he murmured, and then his hand was moving, tracing a path up your side with deliberate slowness.

"And how do you say 'don't stop'?" you asked, your voice catching as his fingers traced patterns on your skin.

"Hör nicht auf," he told you, watching your face intently.

"Hör nicht auf," you repeated, the words turning into a soft gasp as his touch became more purposeful.

His hand slid higher beneath your shirt, fingers tracing the curve of your ribs tantalizingly slow. The warmth of his palm against your skin sent shivers down your spine, each touch igniting something deep within you. His eyes remained fixed on yours, gauging your reactions, seeming to find satisfaction in every small catch of your breath.

"Another phrase?" he asked, his voice a low rumble that you could feel through his chest where it pressed against yours.

You nodded, not trusting your voice as his thumb traced lazy circles just below the underwire of your bra.

"How about 'please'?" you managed, your voice slightly unsteady.

His lips quirked into a small smile. "Bitte."

"Bitte," you echoed, the word barely audible.

Something flashed in his eyes. Hunger, affection, and something deeper that made your heart race. "Say it again," he instructed, his hand stilling its movement.

You understood his game immediately. "Bitte," you repeated, more urgently this time.

His smile widened slightly, satisfaction evident in his expression as his hand resumed its exploration, this time venturing higher. His touch was confident but gentle, asking permission without words.

"Yes," you breathed, answering his unspoken question.

And then his mouth was on yours again, hot and demanding, as his hand finally moved to cup your breast over your bra. You arched into his touch, a small moan escaping into his mouth. He swallowed the sound, his kiss deepening as his thumb brushed over the fabric covering your nipple.

Your own hands weren't idle, moving to explore the firm planes of his chest through his t-shirt. You could feel the defined muscles beneath the soft cotton, the result of years of athletic training. Feeling emboldened, you tugged at the hem, silently asking for permission to remove it.

Nico broke the kiss long enough to help you, sitting up slightly and pulling the shirt over his head in one fluid motion before tossing it aside. You took a moment to admire him: the broad shoulders, the lean muscle, the scattered freckles across his skin that you'd never noticed before.

"Schön," you said softly, using one of the few words he'd called you that seemed appropriate.

His expression softened at your use of his language. "That's my line," he replied, reaching to touch your face with gentle fingers. "Du bist wunderschön."

"What does that mean?" you asked, leaning into his touch.

"You are beautiful," he translated, his eyes never leaving yours.

The sincerity in his voice made your chest tighten with emotion. You leaned forward to press your lips to his collarbone, then moved higher to the sensitive spot just beneath his ear that you'd discovered during your earlier make-out sessions. He inhaled sharply, his hand moving to the back of your head, fingers tangling in your hair.

"Your turn," he murmured, tugging lightly at the bottom of your shirt.

You nodded, allowing him to help you remove it. The cool air of the room raised goosebumps on your newly exposed skin, but they were quickly replaced by warmth as Nico's hands moved to your waist, drawing you closer again.

His kisses became more insistent, trailing from your lips to your jaw, then down your neck. You tilted your head to give him better access, sighing with pleasure as he found a particularly sensitive spot where your neck met your shoulder.

"How do you say 'more'?" you asked breathlessly.

"Meh," he replied against your skin, the word followed by a gentle nip that made you gasp.

"Meh," you repeated, and felt him smile against your neck before he continued his exploration, his mouth moving lower to the swell of your breasts above your bra.

His hands found the clasp of your bra, but he paused, looking up to meet your eyes. "Is this okay?" he asked, suddenly serious.

You appreciated his care, his constant checking in. It was one of the things that had drawn you to him, his consideration, his respect, his unwillingness to assume.

"Yes," you nodded, adding with a small smile, "Ja."

He unhooked your bra with practiced ease, sliding the straps down your arms and setting it aside. There was reverence in his gaze as he looked at you, his hands coming up to cup your breasts with gentle pressure.

"Beautiful," he whispered, this time in English.

You felt a flush spread across your chest and up to your cheeks, but there was no embarrassment in it, only warmth at the naked admiration in his eyes. He lowered his head, replacing one of his hands with his mouth, and you arched against him, a soft moan escaping your lips.

His tongue circled your nipple before taking it between his lips, the gentle suction sending sparks of pleasure coursing through you. Your hand moved to the back of his head, fingers threading through his hair, encouraging him.

"Nico," you breathed, his name a prayer on your lips.

He hummed in response, the vibration adding another layer to the sensation. His free hand wasn't idle, moving to give your other breast equal attention, thumb brushing over the sensitive peak in rhythm with his mouth.

The dual stimulation was intoxicating, but you wanted more. Your hands moved down his back, feeling the shift of muscle beneath warm skin as he moved. You traced the ridge of his spine, then moved lower, fingers dipping just beneath the waistband of his sweatpants.

He lifted his head from your breast, eyes dark with desire as they met yours. "Tell me what you want," he said, his voice rough.

You considered using one of the Swiss German phrases he'd taught you, but in this moment, you wanted complete clarity. "I want to feel you," you said simply. "All of you."

His expression grew serious, though the hunger in his eyes didn't diminish. "Are you sure? We don't have to rush anything."

The care in his question made your heart swell. Three weeks wasn't a very long time, but in those weeks, you'd spent nearly every free moment that he had together. You'd talked for hours, shared meals, watched games, exchanged stories about your lives. There had been countless kisses, increasingly heated make-out sessions, but you'd both been content to take things slowly. Until now.

"I'm sure," you nodded, reaching up to touch his face. "I want this. I want you."

He turned his head to press a kiss to your palm, the gesture unexpectedly tender amidst the heat of the moment. "I want you too," he replied, his accent thicker than usual with emotion. "But we go at your pace, okay? You tell me if you want to stop, anytime."

"I will," you promised.

He nodded, seemingly satisfied, then leaned down to capture your lips again. This kiss was different—slower, deeper, more deliberate. His hands moved to your waist, then lower, fingers hooking into the waistband of your jeans. He looked at you again, a silent question, and you nodded.

With careful movements, he unbuttoned your jeans and helped you shimmy out of them, leaving you in just your underwear. His eyes traveled over your body with appreciation, but there was also something protective in his gaze.

"Your turn," you said, reaching for the drawstring of his sweatpants.

He helped you, pushing them down and kicking them off. Now both of you were down to your underwear, the thin fabrics the only barrier between you. You could feel the evidence of his arousal pressing against your thigh, and the knowledge that you affected him so strongly was intoxicating.

His hand moved to your hip, fingers tracing the edge of your underwear. "May I?" he asked, his voice a low rumble.

"Please," you nodded, adding with a small smile, "Bitte."

The corner of his mouth quirked up at your use of Swiss German. Slowly, maintaining eye contact, he slid your underwear down your legs, his touch leaving trails of fire on your skin. Once they were removed, he took a moment just to look at you, his expression a mix of desire and something that looked remarkably like awe.

"You are so beautiful," he murmured, shaking his head slightly as if in disbelief. "I don't know what I did to deserve this."

"You're just you," you replied simply, reaching for him. "That's more than enough."

He came willingly into your arms, his body covering yours, the weight of him a delicious pressure. You could feel every inch where your skin touched his, chest to chest, hip to hip, legs tangled together. His hand moved between your bodies, fingers tracing patterns on your stomach, then lower, seeking permission in your eyes before venturing further.

You nodded, your breath catching as his fingers found your core, exploring with gentle curiosity. He watched your face intently, learning what made your breath hitch, what made your back arch, what drew sounds of pleasure from your throat.

"Küss mich," you whispered, remembering the phrase he'd taught you earlier.

His eyes darkened at your use of his language, and he leaned down to comply, his kiss hungry and deep as his fingers continued their skilled movements. You were lost in sensation, the world narrowing to just this, his touch, his taste, the weight of him above you.

When he pulled back from the kiss, his eyes were serious. "Do you want to continue?" he asked, his voice rough with restraint.

"Yes," you nodded without hesitation. "Do you have...?"

"Protection? Yes," he confirmed, reaching toward the nightstand drawer.

You took the opportunity to help him remove his boxers, your eyes widening slightly at the sight of him fully naked. He was beautiful. All lean muscle and smooth skin, his body a testament to years of athletic discipline.

He retrieved a condom from the drawer, and you watched as he rolled it on with practiced movements. Then he was hovering over you again, his weight supported on his forearms on either side of your head, his eyes searching yours.

"Are you sure?" he asked one more time, his voice gentle.

The care in his question made your heart swell. "I'm sure," you nodded, reaching up to touch his face. "Ich will dich," you added, using the phrase he'd taught you earlier.

A groan escaped him at your words, and he leaned down to kiss you deeply as he positioned himself. "Tell me if you need me to stop," he murmured against your lips.

You nodded, wrapping your arms around his shoulders as he began to push forward, entering you with carefully slow. The sensation was intense, and you focused on your breathing, on relaxing, on the feeling of him gradually filling you.

When he was fully seated, he paused, his forehead pressed against yours, his breathing as uneven as your own. "Okay?" he asked, concern evident in his voice despite the strain of holding still.

"More than okay," you assured him, shifting your hips slightly to adjust to the feeling of him inside you. "You can move."

He started slowly, with gentle, measured thrusts that allowed both of you to adjust to the sensation. His eyes never left yours, watching for any sign of discomfort, but all he would find was pleasure building with each movement.

Gradually, as your body relaxed and welcomed him, his pace increased. Your hands moved to his back, feeling the play of muscles as he moved above you, within you. The room filled with the sounds of your combined breathing, occasional moans, and the rustle of sheets.

"Okay?" he asked again, his voice strained with the effort of maintaining control.

"Yes," you gasped, arching to meet his thrusts. "Don't stop—Hör nicht auf."

His rhythm faltered momentarily at your use of Swiss German, a groan escaping him. "You're killing me," he muttered, but there was affection in his tone beneath the desire.

He shifted slightly, changing the angle, and suddenly stars exploded behind your eyelids as he hit a spot deep within you that sent pleasure coursing through your veins. "There," you breathed, "right there."

Understanding immediately, he maintained the angle, his thrusts becoming more purposeful. One of his hands moved between your bodies, finding the bundle of nerves at your center, circling with just the right pressure.

The dual stimulation was overwhelming, pleasure building rapidly within you. You could feel yourself teetering on the edge, every muscle tightening in anticipation.

"Nico," you gasped, feeling the tension coiling tighter.

"I've got you," he murmured, his voice strained but reassuring. "Let go. I want to see you."

His words, combined with the relentless rhythm of his hips and fingers, pushed you over the edge. Pleasure crashed over you in waves, your body arching against his as you cried out his name. He worked you through it, his movements slowing but not stopping, prolonging your pleasure for as long as possible.

As you came down from your high, you became aware of his still-rigid length inside you, of the tension in his muscles as he held himself in check. You reached up to touch his face, bringing his eyes to meet yours.

"Your turn," you said softly, clenching around him.

A groan tore from his throat, his control visibly slipping. "Are you sure? I can—"

"I want to feel you," you cut him off, wrapping your legs around his waist to pull him deeper. "Let go."

Something in your eyes must have convinced him, because with a shuddering breath, he began to move again, his rhythm more urgent now. You watched his face, fascinated by the play of emotions: pleasure, concentration, and something deeper that made your heart race.

His movements became more erratic, his breathing harsh, and you knew he was close. You wrapped your arms around him, pulling him down so that your bodies were pressed together, chest to chest.

"Ich will dich," you whispered in his ear, remembering how strongly he'd reacted to you speaking his language earlier.

The effect was immediate. He groaned, deep and guttural, his hips jerking against yours as he found his release. You held him through it, hands stroking his back, murmuring encouragement as he shuddered above you.

For a long moment afterward, neither of you moved, content to stay connected, his weight a pleasant pressure, his breath warm against your neck. Finally, he shifted, carefully separating from you and moving to dispose of the condom in the bathroom.

When he returned, he immediately gathered you back into his arms, pulling the rumpled sheets over both of your cooling bodies. You settled against his chest, listening to the gradually slowing beat of his heart, feeling utterly content.

"Are you okay?" he asked after a while, his voice soft in the dim room.

You nodded against his chest. "More than okay."

His hand moved to stroke your hair, gentle and soothing. "That was..." he seemed to search for the right word.

"Amazing?" you supplied, tilting your head to look at him.

He smiled, the expression soft and genuine. "Amazing," he agreed, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead. "But I meant what happened between us. It's not just physical for me."

The vulnerability in his admission made your heart swell. "It's not just physical for me either," you assured him, reaching up to touch his face. "I really care about you, Nico."

His eyes softened at your words. "I care about you too," he replied, his accent thicker with emotion. "Very much."

You settled back against his chest, feeling his arms tighten around you. Outside, Newark continued its evening bustle, car horns honking and sirens wailing in the distance. But in here, in the soft glow of Edison bulbs, there was just the two of you, wrapped in warmth and newfound intimacy.

"Teach me one more phrase," you murmured, your fingers tracing lazy patterns on his chest.

"What would you like to know?" he asked, his voice rumbling beneath your ear.

You thought for a moment. "How do you say 'stay with me'?"

He was quiet for a beat, and when he spoke, his voice was thick with emotion. "Blieb bi mir."

You repeated it, looking up to meet his eyes as you did. "Blieb bi mir."

His expression was tender as he looked down at you. "As long as you'll have me," he promised, pulling you closer.

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[foreignjaykay]

LOVE REVERBED - JJK [One Shot]

Love Reverbed

You weren't looking for love. Not anymore.

But between the neon lights of NYC Mix Fest, the hum of a city that never slows down, and the lingering echo of a fleeting airport encounter, something shifts. A familiar voice on stage. A glance that lasts too long. A feeling you thought you had outgrown.

Maybe love doesn’t disappear. Maybe it just reverbs—waiting for the right moment to be heard again.

pairing: jungkook x reader

genre: r18+ (angst, fluff) minors do not interact!

word count: 13.1K words (IJBOL WHAT? i have never written these many words all together im cryin)

one shot warnings/misc: event planner!oc, musician!jk, he is in a band but not famous, event planner! jimin, mentions of the the members - musician!tae, musician!namjoon (cameoj!!), musician!yoongi, musician!hobi (side note JAY HOPE HAS BEEN WILDIN' ON DA TOUR), investment banker! mingyu, HEARTBREAK, BETRAYAL, CHEATING (you will find out!), FLUFF, TENSION, ANGST, FLIRTING LOL, failed situationships/talking stages, some cliches, yeah thats it.

notes: hello everyone, sorry for the delay BUT SHE IS HERE!! i hope you guys love this one shot. this is a lengthy one for me haha. edit - this is more of oc's journey and currently jk is just a part of it. extras might come soon!

let me know your thoughts here <3

“Passport - check. Menus, coasters, floral vases - check, check” You saw all the collaterals around and once you spotted the vases in your luggage, smiled and said “Check!”

 “___ relax! You have everything you need to take there,” Your colleague, Jane, laughed and nudged your arm. “You’ve triple-checked everything, I swear. If the Don Julio bar isn’t perfect at the Mix Fest, it won’t be because of you.”

You sighed, the weight of the past weeks settling in your shoulders. “Just want it to go smoothly,” you muttered, zipping up your luggage - mentally checking everything the fourth time. “Especially after…” you trailed off, the unspoken words lingering in the air.

Jane’s expression softened. “He’s not worth another thought, you know that. Besides, New York! Girl, think of all the distractions.” She knew how badly you need that distraction.

You managed to give a weak smile. “Distractions are exactly what I need.”

It had been two weeks since your third situationship had ended. It wasn’t really even about the situationships anymore. They were just a way to, you know, distract yourself. Funny how you needed a distraction from the distraction. 

You shook your head, not wanting to think about these thoughts anymore. "Come on, we need to head to the airport," Jane called from the living room. While being your colleague, you were thankful Jane was also your roommate.

You always thought how were you doing life before you met her?

“Is Jimin meeting us directly at the airport?” You asked Jane as you put the luggage on the trolley, biting your lip, while Jane paid for the cab. 

God, you loved airports. The air in the terminal crackled with the static of announcements, a constant hum punctuated by the clatter of rolling suitcases. You took a deep breath of the recycled terminal air, and smiled. Everything about it just soaked you in. You didn't look at the airport as goodbye or whatever cliche thoughts people had or rather what movies made it sell. Airports always were a pit point of adventures. You loved the journey more than the destination.

 “Uh..” she trailed off, looking around. Then, when she finally spotted Jimin, she smiled, pointing towards a figure with blonde hair, waving enthusiastically. “There he is,” she said.

“Hello girls! Ready for the best weekend of your life or what?” Even at 7am Jimin was enthusiastic. A trait you and Jane seemed to lack.

 Noticing your and Jane’s expressions, he deflated slightly. “Oh come on. It’s New York.” He said, like that was supposed to solve everything.

You suppressed a small, tired smile. If you were truly honest, a flicker of excitement was there, buried beneath the exhaustion and the lingering weight of… well, everything.

Jimin, undeterred, threw an arm around your shoulder, a gesture that was more about his own excitement than any real comfort. “Imagine,” he said as his hands gestured wildly. “The guys! Oh, the guys! Picture this: chiseled jaws, smoldering eyes, every single one of them falling at our feet! Or, you know, the girls, if that's your thing. Glamorous, sophisticated, practically throwing themselves at us!”

You raised an eyebrow, a silent “really?”

Both him and Jane burst out laughing with Jimin giving your shoulder a quick, apologetic squeeze. “Okay, okay, I’m exaggerating a bit. But still! The energy, the food, the Mix Fest… it’s going to be amazing.” 

Mid conversation, you felt your phone vibrate but you ignored it.

Jane, already shifting her weight impatiently, cut in. “Let’s just get through security. My caffeine levels are dangerously low, and I’m starting to see things.”

Inside the terminal, the air was that familiar mix of recycled chill and faint jet fuel. You dragged your luggage to a trolley, the wheels rattling unevenly. The line for security was a slow-moving river of sleep-deprived faces and overstuffed backpacks.

The security process was the usual dance – laptop out, liquids in a bag, shoes off. You walked through the scanner, then beep a dull, familiar sound. On the other side, you fumbled with your shoes, the laces feeling stiff and unfamiliar. You watched Jane and Jimin, their banter a low hum in the background, a comforting, if slightly annoying, constant. You were ready for this weekend, even if you weren't fully aware of it yet.

The plane’s engines roared, a deep, guttural sound that vibrated through your seat. You were thankful you luckily had no one sitting next to you in the middle seat.

 You pressed your forehead against the cool, slightly scratched window, with your neck pillow, watching as Seoul’s sprawling cityscape receded, transforming into a miniature tapestry of lights. Window seat, always, you thought, a wry smile tugging at the corners of your lips. Your phone, its memory perpetually teetering on the brink of overload, was clutched in your hand, the camera app already open. Another travel video to add to the collection, you mused, knowing full well your storage was a lost cause. The click of the record button was automatic, a familiar ritual.

However after recording which looked like the 5th take, your hands instinctively went to the messages app and there it was. A text sitting from Mingyu.

A wave of something, a mix of anger and exhaustion, washed over you. Seriously? you thought, the word a silent, incredulous question. He’s really doing this.

"Sorry baby." The pet name, once a source of warmth, now felt like a cold, slimy thing. It was like he was trying to push a button, and he knew exactly which one to push. Seven months. Seven months since you'd found out about the beach trip, the "business meeting," the her. And now, this. At 7 a.m., no less. How did he even know you were traveling? It wasn't a coincidence. Mingyu wasn't a coincidence kind of guy. He was calculated, always had been. That was how he had been able to cheat. To plan it, to execute it, to lie. That was the real problem, it wasn't a mistake, it was a plan.

You stared at the screen, your thumb hovering over the reply button, then the delete button. You just stared. What could you even say? What was there left to say? 

No matter how many times you asked him to not text you, he still did at several intervals. You couldn’t block him. You had tried, really tried, but just couldn't do it. So you ignored him.

A sigh escaped your lips, a sound lost in the hum of the plane. You closed your eyes, the image of his face, his smile, the way he’d looked at her, flashing behind your eyelids. Your mind did take you to the past. The place you didn’t want to go and before you knew it, you were pulled into the memory.

"Babyyyy, let me help you pack,"  you murmured, a soft smile playing on your lips as he stirred in the warm tangle of sheets. Mingyu's head was nestled in the curve of your neck, his breath a gentle caress against your skin. A low, sleepy groan rumbled in his chest, a familiar sound that usually led to a lazy, affectionate morning.

He shifted, his lips brushing against your neck in a soft, lingering kiss. "Mmm, five more minutes," he mumbled, his voice thick with sleep, his arms tightening around you.

You chuckled, gently stroking his hair. "Come on, sleepyhead. Your flight leaves in a few hours."

He reluctantly lifted his head, his eyes still half-closed, a soft, almost hazy look in them. "Fine, fine," he grumbled, but a playful smile tugged at his lips. "But only because I love you."

After the two of you had breakfast, you got up to help him pack.

He watched as you started pulling clothes from the closet, carefully folding them into his suitcase. "Let me help," you offered, reaching for a pile of his favorite shirts.

"No, it's okay," he said, a little too quickly, his hand moving to intercept yours. "I've got it." He placed the shirts back in the closet.

He moved to stand infront of the suitcase, blocking it from your view. "You know you have that blue shirt I like, packed right?" He asked, not moving.

A flicker of unease danced in your stomach. It wasn't like him to be so insistent. Usually, he'd be all over letting you help him, eager to make your life easier. "Are you sure? I don't mind," you said, your voice laced with a hint of confusion. Why was he being so weird about this?

"Yeah, I'm sure," he said, forcing a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "You know I hate seeing you stressed before I travel. I've been working so hard lately. I need to focus on this trip."

He moved away from the suitcase, and sat on the edge of the bed. You shrugged it off. He was an investment banker, you reminded yourself, long hours and endless meetings were part of his job. He was probably just tired. But the tiny niggle of unease refused to fully leave you.

Two days later, you were on the phone with him, his voice sounding distant and strained. "Just a few more meetings," he'd said, "and I'll be back. I miss you."

“I miss you too. I love you.” You remember saying but you felt a pit in your stomach.

“Me too,” he said. It felt flat, like he didn’t mean it.

Once you hung up the call, that strange sense of unease settled in your stomach. It was a feeling you couldn't quite place, a knot of anxiety that tightened with each passing moment.

You opened Instagram, scrolling through stories to distract yourself. Changbin’s name flashed on the screen. Changbin. You'd never really liked him. There was something about his smug grin and his sharp, dismissive comments that always rubbed you the wrong way.

Your finger hovered over the screen, a moment of hesitation before you pressed play.

The story opened on a sun-drenched beach, the turquoise water sparkling in the sunlight. The sound of laughter, a clinking of glasses. Your breath hitched. Then, the camera panned, revealing a group of people lounging on beach chairs. Mingyu.

Your breath hitched. He was there, on a beach, not in a boardroom. And then you saw her. A girl with sun-kissed skin and a wide, beaming smile, sitting on Mingyu’s lap, her hand resting casually on his thigh. Another girl was sitting with Changbin. It looked like a couples trip.

The world seemed to tilt on its axis. The phone slipped from your numb fingers, clattering to the floor. The image of Mingyu and the girl, their laughter echoing in your ears, was a cruel, sharp blow. He lied, you thought, the word a hollow echo in your mind. He lied to me. The feeling of betrayal was so strong, it was almost physical.

You immediately opened your eyes, not wanting to think about it. When you touched your face, you felt the tears.

After the flight landed, the surge of passengers flooded the terminal and walked towards the baggage belt.

“I had the best sleep ever,” Jane mumbled as she adjusted her purse strap. You nodded your head and smiled.

“God I’m hungry. Before going to the venue, I am gonna have a nice shower and eat my heart out,” Jimin said while walking next to you.

You were eager to get your luggage and head to the hotel, the buzz of NYC already palpable. You navigated the crowd, trying to keep up with Jane and Jimin who were already in their own world, gossiping, when suddenly, you bumped into someone.

“Oh, sorry!” you blurted out, instinctively stepping back.

Your eyes met his. Even with the black cap and mask obscuring part of his face, you could see the warmth in his eyes. He was wearing a checkered shirt, a pattern that seemed to suit him perfectly, a bit casual, a bit…rock and roll. He had a guitar case slung over his shoulder.

“No problem,” he said, his voice a low, melodic rumble. “My fault, really.”

For a moment, time seemed to slow. There was something familiar in his gaze, a spark of recognition that you couldn’t quite place. You noticed the way his eyes crinkled slightly, even with the mask.

Then, just as quickly as it began, the moment was over. He nodded, a slight tilt of his head, and continued walking.

You stood there, slightly dazed, watching him disappear into the crowd. A musician, definitely. The checkered shirt, the guitar case, it all fit. Your type, if you were still… you know. But you weren’t. Not anymore.

“Come on, ___,” Jane said, pulling you by the arm. “Luggage claim’s that way.”

As you walked, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something had shifted, a subtle tremor in the air. You glanced back, but he was gone. Just another face in the sea of arriving passengers. Just another fleeting moment.

It's not always you see handsome strangers. You also loved the airport because imagine having that airport crush and bam you never see them again. This should be counted as that.

You pushed the thought away, focusing on the task at hand. New York. Don Julio setup. The Mix Fest. That was your reality now. No room for distractions. Especially not the kind that came with warm brown eyes, a checkered shirt, and a guitar case.

The taxi, a yellow blur against the twilight canvas of New York City, deposited you, Jane, and Jimin in front of The Ludlow. Stepping out, you stretched, a groan escaping your lips. "Man, that flight felt like it was never going to end," you muttered, pulling your carry-on from the trunk.

"Tell me about it," Jane agreed, rubbing her neck. "I swear, my neck pillow just made things worse."

You noticed Jimin was quiet which was very unlike him. “You okay?” Concern laced on your features as you took back the change from the taxi driver while mumbling a ‘thank you’.

“Yeah, yeah, I just need sleep. The guy next to me snored so loudly that I couldn’t sleep. At all,” He rolled his eyes and gave a tired smile.

As the three of you entered the hotel, the lobby of The Ludlow was a masterclass in curated cool, a symphony of exposed brick, plush velvet seating, and strategically placed lights casting a warm, inviting glow. 

The check-in process was quick and efficient. "Room 502 for you two, and 504 for you, Mr. Park," the receptionist said, handing over the keys.

While entering the elevator of the hotel, Jimin couldn’t help but say, ”This place is so cool," Jimin observed, his eyes wide. "Definitely an upgrade from our usual."

"Speak for yourself," Jane retorted, playfully shoving him. "I'm used to the finer things in life."

“The budget for this event is definitely high,” You laughed and tapped your key card and then pressed the floor no on the elevator.

Once the three of you exited the elevator and searched around for your rooms, "Alright, ladies," Jimin declared, grabbing his suitcase. "I'll see you at the venue. I need to unpack and… you know, groom."

"Groom?" Jane raised an eyebrow. "You mean check your hair for split ends?"

"Hey!" Jimin protested, feigning offense. "A man's gotta look his best!"

“Alright both of you,” you chuckled. “Jimin, we will see you in an hour?” He laughed and nodded.

You and Jane headed to your suite, a spacious room with a view that made you catch your breath. The two of you shared spacious suite, a minimalist haven of clean lines and floor-to-ceiling windows offering a breathtaking panorama of the city skyline, a tapestry of twinkling lights against the inky blackness

 "Wow," you breathed, walking over to the floor-to-ceiling windows. "This is incredible."

 "I could get used to this," Jane said, plopping down on one of the beds. "First order of business: shower. Second: nap. Third: find the mini-bar."

"Sounds like a plan," you agreed, grabbing your toiletry bag. "I'm going to jump in the shower first. You can raid the mini-bar while I'm in there."

As you entered the bathroom, the cool, smooth porcelain of the bathroom sink greeted your fingertips as you leaned against it, the mirror reflecting a weary version of yourself. The journey, the anticipation, the ever-present weight of Mingyu’s lingering texts – it had all coalesced into a knot of tension in your shoulders. You needed a moment, a physical and mental cleansing. "Shower first," you muttered to yourself, echoing Jane's earlier declaration.

The click of the shower knob was a small, decisive sound, a promise of release. As the water began to cascade, you adjusted the temperature, seeking that perfect hot water balance. The kind of temperature that is relaxing but also the temperature is very high. You stripped off your travel-worn clothes, the soft fabric falling to the cool tile floor, a tangible shedding of the day's layers.

Slowly the much needed warmth enveloped you, a comforting embrace that eased the tightness in your muscles. The sound of the water, a constant, rhythmic drumming against the tile, filled the small space, creating a private world within the bustling city.

As the water streamed down your face, you closed your eyes, letting the physical sensation wash over you. The scent of the hotel’s lemongrass-infused shampoo filled your nostrils, a clean, invigorating aroma that momentarily pushed aside the lingering mental clutter. You tilted your head back, letting the water trace paths down your skin, each droplet a tiny, fleeting caress.

But even here, in the supposed sanctuary of the shower, Mingyu’s presence lingered. His face, the way his eyes crinkled when he smiled, the soft timbre of his voice – these memories, once sources of comfort, now felt like shards of glass – sharp and painful. You remembered the way he used to pull you close, the feeling of his arms around you, a warmth that now seemed like a cruel illusion.

Why? The question echoed in your mind, a silent scream in the quiet space. Why did you do this? Why did you lie? Why did you break my trust? The questions swirled, unanswered, like the steam rising from the hot water.

You reached for the body wash, the fragrant gel a temporary balm for the emotional wounds. As you lathered your skin, your mind automatically focused on the physical sensations – the slickness of the gel, the warmth of the water, the gentle massage of your own hands. You tried to ground yourself in the present moment, to push away the intrusive thoughts, but they were relentless, like persistent whispers in the back of your mind.

You remembered the way he would hold your hand, the gentle squeeze that always made you feel safe and loved. Now, the memory felt tainted, a reminder of the trust that had been irrevocably shattered.

The sound of the water, once a soothing rhythm, now seemed to amplify the silence within your own thoughts. The absence of his voice, his touch, his presence, was a gaping void, a stark reminder of what you had lost.

You thought about the future, the road ahead. It stretched before you, uncertain and unknown. The thought of navigating this new chapter alone was daunting, but also strangely liberating. You were free, finally free from the weight of his lies, his manipulations, his betrayals.

You imagined a life without him, a life filled with new experiences, new connections, new possibilities. The thought was both exhilarating and terrifying. You were stepping into the unknown, leaving behind the familiar comfort of a relationship that had ultimately become a source of pain.

You rinsed the remaining soap from your skin, the water now a cool, refreshing stream. You stepped out of the shower, the cool air a sharp contrast to the warmth of the water. You reached for a plush, white towel, wrapping it around your body, the soft fabric a comforting embrace.

As you dried your hair, you looked at your reflection in the mirror. The face staring back at you was slightly different, slightly stronger, slightly more resilient. 

What if I never move past this hurt? is the question that always haunted you. 

The pain was still there, etched in the lines around your eyes, but there was also a newfound sense of determination, a quiet strength that you hadn't seen before.

You were going to be okay. You were going to heal. You were going to move on from this hurt. And you were going to do it on your own terms. 

After a long, hot shower that felt like therapy, you changed into more comfortable clothes . The soft cotton felt good against your skin, a welcome contrast to the tense, coiled feeling you'd carried since the flight. You stared at your reflection, a flicker of something like resolve in your eyes. "Alright, venue time," you announced, emerging from the bathroom, the lingering scent of lemongrass trailing behind you. "Let's see what they've got going on."

"Finally," Jane groaned, stretching her arms above her head like a cat, her spine audibly cracking. "I was starting to think you'd fallen asleep in there.” She gave you a playful smirk. "Seriously, I was about to send in a search party."

You chuckled, a small, genuine sound. "Sorry, lost track of time. Needed a… reset. Besides the temperature is perfect, " 

“Also you might wanna check your phone,” Jane smirked and went inside the bathroom, leaving you confused. She couldn’t possibly know about Mingyu’s text. His contact was deep buried in your archives list.

You unlock your phone only to see a notification from Jay – the guy you went on two dates, 3 months after your breakup with Mingyu. You opened Jay’s text and you weren’t surprised to see what he had sent.

Yeah, no. 

Your first failed situationship or talking stage. Whatever it is called.

You immediately replied to him.

Yeah it was wild. Even for him.

On the first date itself you had understood, he was here for one thing. Not that you minded, but at that moment you weren’t ready for it. 

Even after ending that weird thing you had with him, he still behaved unhinged sometimes. Nothing you couldn't handle.

His selfie did get you out of your thoughts from Mingyu and onto some another thought – at the end of the day, you were an honest woman.

Once the three of you were ready, the taxi ride to the venue was a blur of New York sights and sounds. The city was a sensory overload, a vibrant tapestry of honking horns, chattering voices, and the tantalizing aroma of street food. "Whoa, this place is huge," Jane commented, her eyes wide as you stepped into the converted ground space. "They're really going all out."

The venue was indeed a whirlwind of activity. Stagehands were scrambling up scaffolding, adjusting lights that cast dramatic shadows across the space. Sound technicians were huddled over consoles, their brows furrowed in concentration. And a local band was running through a soundcheck, their music a mix of gritty rock and soulful blues, filling the stress filled space.

"They better be," you said, scanning the half-assembled bar, noting the unfinished details, the unpolished surfaces. "We've got a lot riding on this." The pressure was a familiar weight, but today, it felt heavier, amplified by the lingering anxiety.

"Relax, boss lady," Jimin said, appearing at your side, his usual cheerful demeanor a welcome contrast to your focused intensity. "Everything's going to be fine."

"Just tell us what to do." He added and smiled.

You softened slightly, the tension in your shoulders easing a fraction. "Just… keep an eye on things," you said, gesturing towards the bar area. "Make sure they're following the layout, that the glassware is being handled carefully. And try not to break anything."

"Got it," Jimin grinned, his eyes twinkling. "Consider me your personal bar manager."

"Looks like they're making progress," you said, surveying the half-assembled bar, noting the placement of the back bar, the ice machines, and the overall flow of the space. "But we still have a lot to do. Tomorrow's 10 a.m. deadline is on our head, and the gates open at 12:30 p.m. No margin for error." 

You met with Dominic and Sarah, the customer marketing managers, both being the whirlwind of energy and efficiency. "Everything's on schedule," you assured them, your voice laced with a hint of controlled panic, their eyes darting between the various tasks being carried out around them. "But we're still waiting on the customised DJ glassware. Should be here by 8 a.m. tomorrow."

“___ we are not worried when you are on the project,” Dominic said while smiling. Thats on you bustling your ass and doing client servicing. You smiled.

You made mental notes, mentally ticking off items on your checklist. "We need to finalize the cocktail menu placement, ensure the ice machines are working, and double-check the placement of the floral arrangements," you said, your voice calm and authoritative, projecting an air of confidence you didn't entirely feel. You also checked the placement of the ice, the back bar, and the overall flow of the staff.  "The flow is very important,____. We cannot have a choke point at the bar. We need to keep things moving" Sarah explained, pointing to a potential bottleneck near the main entrance.

You nodded your head and already aligning your team for this hiccup to not take place.

Once Jimin had overlooked the production and Jane had instructed the bar team, the three of you left the venue.

"Dinner?" Jimin suggested, his stomach audibly rumbling, a low, guttural growl that echoed in the quiet street. "I'm starving and I will be back to check on the production,”

 "Dinner time," Jane declared, her stomach growling audibly. "I'm starving too. And I need a real drink, not just whatever's in that mini bar."

The Italian trattoria was warm and inviting, the air thick with the aroma of garlic, oregano, and simmering tomato sauce. "This place smells amazing," You said, inhaling deeply. "I'm going to order everything on the menu." 

The two of them laughed. At this point everyone in office knew your love for italian food. They thought you were joking. Oh.

The dinner was filled with laughter and stories, a welcome distraction from the day's pressures and travel. "Remember that time we went to that karaoke bar in Seoul?" Jimin asked, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "And you tried to sing 'As Long As You Love Me' by Bieber?"

"Oh god, don't remind me," Jane groaned, burying her face in her hands. "That was a disaster. A beautiful, ear-splitting disaster."

"It was a masterpiece," Jimin insisted, laughing. "A glorious, beautiful disaster. The audience was mesmerized."

“Yeah I couldn’t hear that song normally for months. Still can’t,” You were laughing along with them, the sound genuine and light, when you noticed the man at the table next to you. He looked familiar, but you couldn't quite place him. "Who's that?" you asked, nudging Jane, your voice lowered.

"Who?" she asked, following your gaze. "Oh, him. I don't know. Just some guy. Why?"

"He looks familiar," you said, frowning, tilting your head slightly. "I feel like I've seen him somewhere before. But I can't quite remember where."

"Maybe you have," Jimin said, shrugging, taking a bite of his pasta. "New York's a small world. Or maybe you're just imagining it. You've been working too hard."

You shrugged, dismissing the thought. But the feeling of familiarity lingered, a small, persistent itch in the back of your mind.

As you excused yourself to use the restroom, you bumped into someone in the narrow hallway. "Oh, sorry!" you blurted out, instinctively stepping back, a flicker of surprise in your eyes.

Your eyes met his doe eyes. He was handsome, with a warm, inviting smile that crinkled the corners of his eyes. "No problem," he said, his voice a low rumble, a hint of amusement in his tone. "We keep meeting this way."

"Excuse me?" you asked, confused, your brow furrowed. We do? you thought. Where have I seen him?

He just smiled, a hint of amusement in his eyes, as if he knew something you didn't. "Never mind," he said, his voice laced with a gentle teasing. "Have a good night."

"You too," you said, watching him walk away, your mind buzzing with questions. Who is he? And why does he seem so familiar? you thought. "That was weird," you muttered under your breath, a sense of unease mixing with a strange curiosity.

Once you were back into your hotel room, it was already 12am. You immediately texted Jimin who after the dinner had gone back to the venue to check on the production. How was this man not tired?

You heard Jane laugh next to you on the texts the 3 of you had just exchanged.

“Alright, goodnight Jane-y. We have to reach the venue by 7AM so Jimin can come back and rest and come back once the fest starts,” You said as you set your alarm.

Jane, sleepy, nodded and mumbled “Good night love,” and immediately dozed off.

As much as you tried to sleep, you really couldn’t. You checked the time, and it was 1AM. You took your phone from the night stand and unlocked your phone. Maybe TikTok or Instagram reels might help.

Brainrot content – that's all you saw.

Mid laughing at a reel, your phone rang, the shrill tone cutting through the silence. Mingyu's name flashed across the screen, a stark reminder of the past that had been haunting your every step. You hesitated, your finger hovering over the answer button, a battle raging within you. Ignore it. Let it go. 

And so you didn’t pick up.

The phone rang again.

This time the need for closure, the need to finally confront the lingering pain, won out. You pressed the button, the sound of the connection a sharp, decisive click.

"Mingyu," you said, your voice trembling slightly, betraying the carefully constructed facade of composure. “I asked you not to-,”

You were cut off. "___," he began, his voice a low, urgent murmur, laced with a desperation that sent a shiver down your spine. "Please, just… please, listen to me. I need you to hear me out before you hang up."

You carefully removed the duvet and went inside the balcony, trying not to wake up Jane who was in a deep slumber.

"Hear you out?" you scoffed, a bitter laugh escaping your lips as you closed the balcony door behind you. "After everything? After you tore my world apart? You are funny, I’ll give you that,”

You heard him sigh on the other end.

"I know I hurt you, baby. I know I messed up. But… but I need you to understand. It wasn't just about… about the physical thing. It was about… feeling lost. Feeling like I wasn't enough." His voice cracked, and you could hear the raw emotion beneath the words.

"Don’t call me that,” You said. How could he? 

 “You lost that right the day you decided to cheat and not enough?" you repeated, incredulous. "I loved you, Mingyu. I supported you. I believed in you. And you tell me I wasn’t enough? Wow."

"It wasn't about you, ___. It was about me. My insecurities, my fears. I was trying to run away from myself, and I dragged you into it. I'm so sorry." His voice was thick with emotion, and for a moment, you almost believed him.

"So, you ran to her," you said, your voice laced with a mixture of anger and pain. "Someone who made you feel better about yourself. Someone who gave you the validation you thought I wasn't giving you."

"It wasn't like that," he insisted, his voice strained, pleading. "It was more… complicated. She… she understood a part of me that I felt like I couldn't share with anyone else."

"A part of you that you couldn't share with me?" you asked, your voice barely a whisper, the pain cutting through you like a knife. "The person who loved you unconditionally? The person who gave you her heart?"

"I know," he said, his voice heavy with regret. "I know I messed up. I messed up big time. And I don't expect you to forgive me. But I need you to know… I never stopped loving you, ___. Even when I was with her, it was you I thought about. You're the one I want."

"You have some nerve," you managed to say and a bitter laugh escaped your lips. "You want me now? After you've had your little… adventure? After you've broken my trust beyond repair?"

"I know I don't deserve it," he said, his voice cracking, the desperation evident. "But I'm begging you. Please, give me another chance. I'll do anything. I'll change. I'll be the man you deserve. I'll be better."

"You can't change who you are, Mingyu," you said, your voice trembling, tears welling up in your eyes. "And I can't go back to who I was. I can't go back to being someone who's constantly waiting for you to break my heart again. I can't live with that fear anymore."

Little did you know, Jane woke up. She watched you talk to Mingyu, proud of you finally letting it out. Finally standing up for yourself and letting out all your bottled up emotions.

"Please, ___, don't do this," he pleaded, his voice thick with emotion. "I need you. I love you. Please."

"No, Mingyu," you said, your voice firm, a newfound sense of strength resonating within you. "I need to let you go. I need to let myself go. I need to be free. I am finally free. You changed me. And I thank you for that."

"What?" he asked, his voice filled with confusion, a hint of panic creeping in.

"I am finally myself," you said, your voice clear, strong, a wave of liberation washing over you. "And I can't be myself with you. I can't be the person I am meant to be if I'm still clinging to the past."

"No, ___, don't," he pleaded, his voice desperate, a raw vulnerability exposed. "Please, don't say that. Don't do this to us. To me."

"Goodbye, Mingyu," you said, your voice steady, a sense of closure settling within you.

“Baby please," his voice breaking.

“Mingyu don't,” You said wiping your tears.

“Just don’t call or text me. Please,” 

He took several moments before he managed to mumble an ‘okay’

“Goodbye Mingyu,” You finally managed to say. 

“Goodbye ____. I’ll always love you,” He said that with what seemed like a genuine tone and with that you pressed the end call button, the click a sharp, final sound. You stared at your phone, the screen reflecting your tear-streaked face. You felt lighter, freer than you had in months. The shackles were gone, the weight lifted. You were finally, truly, free.

Tears streamed down your face, but they weren't tears of pain or anger. They were tears of release, of finally freeing yourself from the shackles of the past. You let yourself cry, the sobs wracking your body, each one a step further away from the pain.

As the tears subsided, you felt a gentle warmth envelop you. Jane was standing beside your bed, her eyes filled with concern and understanding. She didn't say a word, didn't ask any questions. She simply wrapped her arms around you, holding you close, offering silent comfort and unwavering support. You clung to her, the tears flowing freely, not from sadness, but from a profound sense of relief and liberation. You had finally broken free, and Jane was there to help you celebrate that newfound freedom.

DAY 1 - NYC MIX FEST

The venue pulsed with a palpable energy, a stark contrast to the quiet, almost solemn, introspection of the previous night. By 12 PM, the Don Julio bar was a gleaming masterpiece of polished wood, shimmering glassware, and precisely arranged bottles of their stunning portfolio. The customized Mexican DJ-inspired, skull glassware, thankfully delivered right on schedule, caught the light, casting a dazzling array of reflections. You, Jane, and Jimin moved with practiced ease, fine-tuning the last details, ensuring every element was flawless. The air crackled with the sound of music, the clinking of glasses, and the excited murmur of early attendees.

"Looks like we actually pulled it off, huh?" Jane said, a sigh of genuine relief escaping her lips as she meticulously adjusted a row of cocktail garnishes. "I was starting to think those glasses were cursed."

"Don't even say that," Jimin retorted, his brow furrowed as he adjusted a floral arrangement with the precision of a surgeon. "We're not out of the woods yet. We still have the main rush to contend with." He paused, stepping back to admire his handiwork. "But yeah, it looks good. Real good."

You took a deep breath, the crisp scent of fresh lime and premium tequila filling your senses. This is it, you thought, a quiet sense of triumph washing over you. A new day, a new beginning. The lingering weight of Mingyu's call had completely dissipated, replaced by a feeling of lightness, a newfound sense of quiet confidence. "Let's take a quick walk around," you suggested, gesturing towards the bustling crowd. "See what the other brands are doing. Get a feel for the atmosphere."

The venue was a sprawling showcase of branded experiences, each competing for attention. Tanqueray's gin garden was a verdant oasis, complete with live botanical displays and bartenders crafting bespoke cocktails with fresh herbs. Johnnie Walker's whisky lounge exuded an air of sophisticated elegance, with plush leather seating, dim lighting, and a curated selection of rare blends. Toki's highball station was a minimalist masterpiece, showcasing the clean, crisp flavors of Japanese whisky with sleek, modern design and their concept Toki-o nights which was heavily inspired by music. And Glenmorangie’s setup was a vibrant, beach-themed extravaganza, with bright colors, tropical decorations, and a lively, party atmosphere.

"Wow, they've really gone all out," Jane commented, her eyes scanning the crowd with a mixture of admiration and professional curiosity. "The competition is fierce."

"Tell me about it," you agreed, noting the intricate details of each brand's activation. "But I think we've got the edge. Our bar is both stylish and functional. A perfect balance of aesthetic and practicality."

Jimin nodded enthusiastically. "And the cocktails are killer," he added, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. "I may have sampled a few myself, just to ensure quality control, of course."

“No wonder the bar team was giving me knowing looks,” You rolled your eyes playfully. "Of course," you said, chuckling. "Just don't get too carried away."

"Never," Jimin said, feigning innocence.

You all moved towards a photo booth where a long queue was forming, attendees eager to capture the moment. "Look at the line," you said, impressed. "That's a great sign. We’ll definitely come back later when it's less crowded. Perfect for some social media content."

Returning to the Don Julio bar, the music grew louder, more insistent. The band from the previous night was performing again, their sound filling the space with a raw, soulful energy. The stage was conveniently located right next to the Don Julio bar. Your eyes were drawn to the lead singer - it was the same dude from the Italian restaurant. He was completely immersed in the music, his voice a powerful, melodic rumble that resonated through the venue.

Musicians have always been your weakness.

He really is talented, you thought, watching him move across the stage with an effortless grace. And incredibly handsome. You couldn't help but notice the way his checkered shirt hugged his broad shoulders, the way his dark hair fell across his forehead, and the way his doe eyes, even from a distance, seemed to hold a spark of something intense.

He didn't seem to notice you, thankfully, his focus entirely on the performance. You quickly turned your attention back to the bar, trying to shake off the unexpected flutter in your chest. Focus, ___. you told yourself, mentally running through the checklist of tasks. You have a job to do.

But even as you worked, adjusting bottles, straightening napkins, your eyes kept drifting back to the stage. There was something about him, something familiar and intriguing, that you couldn't quite ignore. The feeling was a gentle hum beneath the surface of your thoughts, a quiet reminder of the unexpected encounters that had marked the beginning of your New York adventure.

Jane, noticing your gaze, exchanged a knowing look with Jimin. They both smirked, but thankfully, refrained from any overt teasing. They knew you were still processing a lot, and a playful jab might not be well-received. Instead, Jane subtly nudged you with her elbow, a silent acknowledgment of your obvious unspoken attraction.

"Everything alright, boss lady?" Jimin asked, his voice laced with a playful undertone, trying hard to keep his gaze fixed on the bar.

"Fine," you said, a little too quickly. "Just… admiring the music. I’m all about the music you know that,"

"Sure you are," Jane mumbled under her breath, a playful glint in her eyes to which Jimin couldn’t help but chuckle.

You rolled your eyes, but couldn't suppress a small smile. Maybe a little distraction wouldn't hurt, you thought, a flicker of something like excitement igniting within you. But first, work.

By 4 PM, the venue had transformed into a pulsating hub of activity, a kaleidoscope of branded experiences and eager attendees. The clients, Dominic and Sarah, arrived, their eyes alight with a blend of professional scrutiny and genuine excitement. They'd been privy to the meticulously curated visuals you'd sent, but witnessing the Don Julio bar in its full glory was an entirely different experience.

"___, this is… exceptional," Dominic declared, his voice booming across the space, cutting through the ambient noise like a well-tuned bassline. "You've truly captured the essence of the brand."

"The lighting, the glassware, the sheer artistry of the cocktails," Sarah added, her eyes tracing the intricate details of the bar's design. "It's a masterpiece. You guys have outdone yourselves,"

You managed a smile, a mixture of relief and pride washing over you. "Thank you," you said, your voice steady despite the flutter of nerves in your stomach. "Jimin, Jane and I wanted to create an immersive experience, something that resonated with the spirit of Don Julio and what better than personalised Don Julio skull mugs,"

The next few hours were a blur of client interactions, strategic small talk, and the relentless monitoring of the bar's operation. You, despite your innate aversion to superficial conversations, navigated the social labyrinth with practiced ease. It was a necessary evil, a performance required for the success of the event.

"So, Sarah," you began, steering the conversation towards the broader festival experience, "what are your impressions of the other brand activations?"

"They're all… interesting," she replied, her tone carefully neutral. "But I am also a little biased,” You chuckled. “Don Julio has a certain… sophistication. It's not just about the spectacle; it's about the experience."

"Precisely," you said, nodding in agreement. "We wanted to create a space where attendees could truly appreciate the craftsmanship and heritage of the brand."

As the evening wore on, a subtle sense of disappointment began to creep in. Your eyes, despite your best efforts, kept drifting towards the stage, searching for a familiar figure. The musician, with his soulful voice and captivating presence, was conspicuously absent. Maybe he's performing with his band tomorrow, you thought, trying to quell the rising tide of disappointment. It's a two-day festival, after all.

By 7 PM, the disappointment had solidified into a quiet ache, a subtle undercurrent beneath the surface of your professional composure. You continued to circulate, engaging with clients, ensuring their glasses were filled and their questions answered, but the absence of the musician cast a shadow over the evening.

The first day of the Mix Fest drew to a close at 10 PM, the venue slowly emptying as attendees filtered out, their voices echoing through the cavernous space. Exhausted but undeniably satisfied, you, Jane, and Jimin made your way back to The Ludlow.

"I'm going to hit the spa," you announced, a wave of weariness washing over you. "Anyone care to join me?"

"I'm beat brother," Jane said, stretching her arms above her head, her spine cracking audibly. "I'm going straight to bed. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Same here," Jimin agreed, stifling a yawn. "But have a good one!"

The spa was a sanctuary of tranquility, a haven of warmth and soothing aromas. The humid air enveloped you like a comforting embrace, easing the tension in your muscles. You closed your eyes, letting the gentle heat work its magic, the day's stresses melting away.

After a long session in the steam room, you emerged, your skin glowing, your mind clear. You wandered towards the relaxation area, a dimly lit space with plush loungers and soft, ambient music. And that's when you saw him. Soobin.

He was sprawled across one of the loungers, his eyes closed, his face relaxed. He looked good, you had to admit, the dim light casting his features in a flattering glow.

"Soobin?" you said, your voice a soft whisper, a mix of surprise and mild amusement.

His eyes fluttered open, a slow, slightly disoriented smile spreading across his face. "___? What a… surprise."

"Surprise?" you echoed, raising an eyebrow, a hint of playful skepticism in your voice. "You're here for the festival?"

"Yeah," he said, sitting up, his movements a little stiff. " I am visiting few friends here so we decided to check the fest. I'm a big fan of the… music scene here. And the… atmosphere." He said the last word with a strange emphasis.

You chuckled, a dry, almost cynical sound. "Of course," you said, your eyes narrowing slightly.

Soobin was your second "situationship," or a failed talking stage if you wanted to call it that. A brief but intense connection that had almost blossomed into something more. You'd been genuinely drawn to him, intrigued by his quiet intensity and his thoughtful demeanor. But he was always a little… hesitant, a little unsure. And you, still reeling from the aftermath of your relationship with Mingyu, were equally reluctant to fully commit.

An awkward silence descended, thick and heavy, punctuated only by the soft murmur of the spa's ambient music. Soobin shifted uncomfortably, his gaze darting around the room, avoiding your eyes.

"So," he began, his voice strained, "how have you been?"

"Good," you replied, keeping your tone casual, your expression carefully neutral. "Busy with work, as always."

"Right. ___ the boss lady" he said, nodding slowly, his eyes still avoiding yours. "The festival… it's quite something, isn't it?"

"It is," you agreed, your voice flat.

Another awkward silence stretched between you, the tension in the air thick enough to cut with a knife. You could feel his gaze lingering on you, a mixture of curiosity and something else, something you couldn't quite decipher.

"You look… good," he said, his voice barely above a whisper, his gaze finally meeting yours.

"Thanks," you said, a flicker of something like irritation flashing through you. "You too."

He was still attractive, you had to admit, but the spark that had once flickered between you had dimmed, replaced by a sense of awkwardness and unspoken regrets.

"It's been a while," he said, his voice laced with a hint of nostalgia.

"It has," you agreed, your voice cool.

God this was painfully awkward. If only Jane and Jimin were here with you now. They would have saved you from whatever this was but also would have a blast making fun of this situation.

"We should… catch up sometime," he suggested, his voice hesitant, his eyes searching for your agreement.

"Maybe," you said, noncommittally, your gaze drifting towards the exit.

The silence that followed was heavy with unspoken words, a lingering sense of what could have been. You felt a wave of weariness wash over you, the day's events finally catching up. You wanted to escape, to retreat to the solitude of your room, to process the unexpected encounter.

"Well," you said, rising to your feet, "I should probably get going. It's been a long day."

"Right," he said, nodding slowly, his expression a mixture of disappointment and resignation. "Yeah, of course."

You turned to leave, a sense of relief washing over you. The encounter had been awkward, uncomfortable, a reminder of a chapter you'd thought you'd closed. As you walked away, you couldn't help but wonder if this was a sign, a second chance. Or just another unexpected, slightly uncomfortable, encounter in the whirlwind of your New York adventure. You decided, at that moment, that you were going to go to sleep and not think about it any more.

Life has genuinely been weird since last two days.

DAY 2 - NYC MIX FEST

The aftershocks of the past two days lingered, a subtle tremor in the usually steady rhythm of your life. Sleep, a fickle companion, had been a patchwork of disjointed dreams and the persistent echo of Mingyu's voice. Then the encounter with Soobin in the spa, though brief, had left a faint, unpleasant aftertaste, a reminder of unfinished chapters.

Waking up late, you felt a strange sense of detachment, a subtle disconnect from the day's impending chaos. A glance at your phone revealed the time – 12:00 PM. Damn, you thought, a wave of mild panic washing over you. You were never late. You were always meticulously punctual. 

New York definitely has had its effect on you.

Rushing through your morning routine, you arrived at the venue at 12:45 PM, a minute that felt like an eternity. Jane and Jimin were already deep in conversation near the Don Julio bar, their laughter echoing through the near-empty space.

“Jane! You didn’t wake me up,” You said in anger, although it wasn’t serious. Day 2 of the fest was supposed to be chill so you weren’t that worried.

It’s just bad habits that die hard.

“Hey!!” Jane exclaimed. “I was letting you rest, knowing you work like a machine,” She said feigning innocence. Now who could say no to that face?

You just playfully rolled your eyes at her and she chuckled.

"Well, well, look who decided to grace us with their presence," Jimin teased, a playful glint in his eyes. "Did you finally decide to sleep in?"

"Sorry," you mumbled, a blush creeping up your neck. "I overslept. I had a rough night."

"It's fine," Jane said, waving a dismissive hand. "We were just about to grab some lunch. Come on, you can catch up on the gossip."

Over a quick lunch of festival fare, the three of you discussed the previous day's events, the client feedback, and the general buzz of the festival. You kept your encounter with Soobin to yourself, not wanting to rehash the awkwardness but knowing sooner or later, you were gonna spill it for them. You just had to make sure that you would be staying away from the hotel spa.

"So," Jane said, her eyes twinkling with mischief, "did you manage to spot your mystery musician?"

You shook your head, a flicker of disappointment crossing your face. "No, not yet. I'm starting to think he's a figment of my imagination."

"Maybe he's saving his grand entrance for today," Jimin suggested, winking. "You know, building suspense."

After lunch, you decided to take a walk around the venue, hoping to clear your head and shake off the lingering sense of unease. You were still feeling slightly off-kilter, a little out of sync with your usual self. 

Just thinking about the last two days. They had been wild and went so fast. You had finally broken away from the shackles of your relationship with Mingyu, felt yourself returning, the Jay and Soobin interaction. So much had happened.

You still felt alone. 

Looking around the fest, you saw couples around you mingling with each other and just having fun and living life and you felt a bittersweet feeling. When was it gonna be my turn? is the only thought that crossed your mind.

You were successful in your career, decent looking yet love was the only part of your life that wasn’t figured out. Actually you had it figured out for a long time when you were Mingyu, almost even thought you would marry him – Yeah no, not that thought.

As you rounded a corner near the main stage, you bumped into someone, sending a set of drumsticks clattering to the ground.

"Oh, I'm so sorry!" you blurted out, instinctively bending down to help pick them up.

Was it the musician?

Looking up, you realized it wasn't the musician, but another member of his band. He was tall, with a warm, friendly smile and a pair of intelligent eyes. You felt a wave of disappointment, quickly suppressed.

"No, it's okay," he said, his voice deep and melodic. "Don't worry about it. It was my fault."

"I seem to be bumping into everyone lately," you said, a wry smile playing on your lips. "It's becoming a bit of a theme."

He chuckled, a warm, genuine sound. "It's a busy place. Easy to get turned around."

You noticed the drumsticks in his hand. "Are you performing here?" you asked, gesturing towards the main stage.

"Yeah," he replied, a hint of excitement in his voice. "We're called Sunrise Boulevard."

"Oh, cool," you said, a genuine smile spreading across your face. "I'll have to check you out. What time is your set?"

"Please do," he said, handing you the drumsticks. "Let me know what you think. We play at 7PM! This is our first big gig,” He said with excitement. It was infectious.

"I will," you promised.

"I'm Namjoon," he said, extending his hand.

"___," you replied, shaking his hand.

You introduced yourself, and he told you a little about the band, their music, and their journey. You explained your role in the Don Julio activation. You found yourself enjoying the conversation, his easygoing charm a welcome distraction from your earlier anxieties.

“Drinks on me, okay,” You laughed and told me.

“I’ll hold you to that,” He smirked.

Jane, who had been watching from a distance, approached, her eyes sparkling with interest. "Who's this?" she asked, her voice laced with playful curiosity.

"This is Namjoon," you said, introducing them. "He's the drummer for Sunrise Boulevard."

"Nice to meet you," Jane said, extending her hand, her smile widening.

"You too," Namjoon replied, his smile equally bright.

Jane seemed particularly interested in Namjoon, her questions flowing easily, her laughter light and genuine. You watched them interact, a sense of amusement mixing with a quiet sense of relief. 

Both Jimin and you saw her tuck her hair while talking to him and smirked. Classic tell-a-tale sign when Jane is interested in someone.

At least someone was having a good time.

After a few minutes, Jane and Namjoon exchanged numbers, and he headed towards the stage for soundcheck. Jane returned to the Don Julio bar, a satisfied grin on her face.

"So," Jimin said, raising an eyebrow, "who was that?"

"That was Namjoon," Jane replied, her cheeks flushed. "He's the drummer for Sunrise Boulevard. They're playing today."

"And?" you asked, a playful smirk on your face.

"And," Jane said, rolling her eyes, "they're a rookie band. This is their first big festival. They're really good, though. You should check them out."

"A rookie band, huh?" Jimin said, his eyes twinkling. "Sounds interesting."

"They are," Jane insisted. "And he's really nice."

"Someone's got a crush," you teased, nudging Jane's arm.

"Shut up," she said, blushing. "I just think they deserve some support."

"Of course you do," Jimin said, chuckling. "We'll definitely check them out."

You made sure to stay away from the hotel spa and any areas where you might run into Soobin. You had no desire to relive that awkward encounter. You were here to work, to enjoy the festival, and to finally see Sunrise Boulevard perform. You decided to make sure to keep an eye out for Namjoon and his band’s set.

With the overwhelming amount of crowd at the Don Julio bar, you didn’t even realise that it was almost 7PM. 

Once the clock struck 7PM, you could see the majority of the crowd gathering near the stage. And they thought they were rookie. You helped the bartending team while bringing in some ingredients for the cocktails when you heard the most angelic possible voice.

“Oh my god, the lead singer is so handsome,” You heard a few girls fangirl (?) and you glanced towards the stage, curious to see what all the fuss was about, and to see if the band was really as good as Jane had said.

The stage lights dimmed, casting long, dramatic shadows across the eager crowd. A hush fell over the venue as the band members took their positions. Then, a voice, smooth and confident, cut through the silence.

"Hey everyone, I'm JK, lead singer of Sunrise Boulevard, and this is our band!" He gestured towards his bandmates. "On guitar, Taehyung! On drums, Namjoon! On bass, Hoseok! And on keyboard, Yoongi!" The rest of them waved towards the crowd which got them screaming.

The crowd erupted in applause as they launched into their first song, a sultry, rock-infused rendition of Chase Atlantic's "Swim." JK’s voice, laced with a hint of smoky allure, filled the space, captivating the audience. The band's energy was palpable, their performance a blend of raw intensity and polished precision.

After the Chase Atlantic cover, they transitioned into their original songs. The first, "City Lights," was a driving pop-rock anthem with a catchy chorus, reminiscent of early 2000s alternative rock. The second, "Lost in the Echoes," had a more introspective feel, with JK’s vocals soaring over a melancholic melody, showcasing his impressive range. For a third song, they played "Crimson Sky," a high-energy rock song with a powerful guitar riff, getting the crowd to jump and sing along.

As the set progressed, you found yourself drawn into their performance, despite your professional focus. JK’s stage presence was undeniable, his charisma radiating from the stage. The kind of presence that demanded attention. You noticed his eyes scanning the crowd, and for a fleeting moment, you thought they lingered on you. You quickly looked away, a blush creeping up your neck, trying to focus on the busy bar.

Yeah no, not the time to be delusional.

As the band finished their third song, JK stepped forward, a slight smile playing on his lips. "We have one more song for you tonight," he announced, his voice soft, yet carrying through the venue. "It's a little different from our usual style. I wrote it recently, and it's called 'Still With You.'"

The crowd cheered as the band launched into the song. It was a slower, more soulful ballad, JK’s voice filled with raw emotion. The song's lyrics, a heartfelt expression of longing and vulnerability, resonated with the audience, creating a quiet, intimate atmosphere. You found yourself captivated by his performance, his voice weaving a spell around you, cutting through the noise of the festival.

As the set ended, JK's eyes swept across the crowd once more. This time, you were sure they lingered on you. He held your gaze for a moment, a subtle intensity in his eyes, then looked away, a slight smile playing on his lips. You tried to dismiss it as a coincidence, but a flutter of excitement stirred within you.

Lord, New York was something else.

The band exited the stage, and you returned to the Don Julio bar, helping the team with the rush of customers. A few minutes later, Namjoon approached, JK trailing slightly behind him, hands in his pockets.

Namjoon hopped onto an empty stool, a slightly sheepish grin on his face. "Hey," he said, running a hand through his hair. "So, uh, how'd we do?"

You chuckled, wiping down the counter. "You guys were great. Seriously. The crowd loved you."

"Yeah?" Namjoon asked, a hint of relief in his voice. "We were kinda nervous. First big festival and all."

"You wouldn't have known it," you assured him. "You guys looked completely at home up there."

"That's good to hear," he said, nodding. "We put a lot of work into this set. Especially JK, he was stressing about the Chase Atlantic cover."

"It was a bold choice," you said, glancing at JK, who was leaning against the bar, observing the crowd. "But it worked. It really set the tone."

"He's always pushing  to try new things," Namjoon said, rolling his eyes playfully. "Sometimes it drives us crazy, but I guess it pays off."

"It definitely did tonight," you said, smiling. "Especially that last song, 'Still With You'. It was beautiful."

JK finally spoke, his voice low and smooth. "Thank you," he said, meeting your gaze. "It means a lot."

"No, really," you said, turning back to Namjoon. "You guys have a really unique sound. It's not just another pop-rock band."

"That's what we're going for," Namjoon said, nodding. "We want to stand out."

"You definitely do," you said, grabbing a bottle of tequila. "So, what can I get you guys? Drinks are on me, remember?" 

"Oh, right!" Namjoon said, snapping his fingers. "I almost forgot. I'll take a... what are you having?"

“Oh,” You chuckled. “I don’t drink and besides I’m at work so,” You managed to say which earned you a look from JK.

“So what will you guys have? Want me to suggest?” You diverted the topic.

“Yes please,” Namjoon smiled. You looked over the menu and suggested ‘Don Paloma’ and ‘Don Picante’ to the two of them. 

“Wow you know your cocktails,” JK said while having that look. The look that made you nervous.

“I wouldn’t be doing a good job at work if I didn’t,” You chuckled.

As you placed the order to the bar team, you noticed Jane and Jimin coming your way. You immediately saw Namjoon smile at that.

Yeah you and Jimin have to clock that.

The conversation then continued to flow easily, but you couldn't shake the feeling that JK was watching you, his gaze lingering, but in a way that felt more curious than intrusive. You felt a strange mix of excitement and nervousness, unsure of what to make of his attention, but the conversation with the rest of them felt like a welcome buffer.

Namjoon grinned, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "You know what? We're running low on drinks for the band. Let's grab another round."

"Good idea," Jane chimed in, nodding towards the bar. "We wouldn't want anyone getting thirsty."

You watched them go, a knowing smile playing on your lips. Smooth. But hey, who were you to judge?

Jimin, who had been uncharacteristically quiet, suddenly stood. "Uh, I need to… check on some, uh, thing," he mumbled, avoiding eye contact. "See you guys later."

Yeah you were cursing him in your mind.

He practically bolted, leaving you and JK alone. "Well," you said, turning to JK, "that was… awkward.”

He chuckled, a playful glint in his eyes. "He's probably checking on the drinks too, you know, to make sure they're… properly distributed,”

He paused, then gestured towards the festival grounds. "Want to go for a walk? Check out the place? See if we can find anything?” 

“You sure? Aren’t you tired?” You asked him genuinely. After that performance anyone would be tired.

"Yes I’m sure,"  he smiled.

As you walked, JK pointed towards the brightly lit Ferris wheel. "Ferris wheel," he said, a hint of amusement in his voice. "A classic." 

"Isn't that a little… cliché?" you asked, raising an eyebrow. "Like, straight out of a rom-com?"

"Sometimes cliché is good," he replied, a playful smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "Besides, it's a great view. And who knows, maybe we’ll have a rom-com moment of our own."

You raised your eyebrow and chuckled.

“Yeah sorry that was bad,” He shook his head and laughed.

“Oh wait, I didn't introduce myself. I’m Jungkook,” He put his hand forward for a handshake. “And I’m ___”, You smiled as you shook hands with him.

As you walked ahead, Jungkook's eyes widened. "Wait a minute," he said, snapping his fingers. "You're the girl from the airport!"

"What? What airport?" you asked, feigning confusion, though a flicker of recognition sparked in your mind.

"Yeah, you were… a bit overwhelmed," he said, his eyes twinkling. "And you're also the girl from the Italian place."

"Yeah, that I am," you replied, a smile spreading across your face. "Small world, huh?" He remembers. And he remembers the details. That’s… unexpected.

Yeah no, you weren’t going to delude yourself.

As you rode the Ferris wheel, the city lights spread out below you, a dazzling panorama. "It's beautiful," you murmured, gazing at the view. "I've never been to New York before."

"Really?" Jungkook asked, his eyes widening slightly. "First time?"

"Yeah," you said, a hint of wonder in your voice. "It's… overwhelming, in a good way."

He nodded.

You talked about your dreams, your work, your passions. He listened intently, his eyes never leaving yours. He’s a good listener. Not something you find every day. Or ever.

“So where have you been till now?” He asked as the two of you exited the ferris wheel. “Uh, honestly? Nowhere,” You shrugged. “We came on Friday and have been working since then. We still have tomorrow to explore,” You smiled and told him.

“Any places you could suggest though?” You asked as you thanked the person managing the ferris wheel not noticing the smug grin on Jungkook’s face for what he was about to say next.

"Well," he said, his voice a low murmur, "I can show you around. Show you the real New York. The places the tourists don't know about."

He’s smooth. You will have to give him that.

“You can?” You raised your eyebrows to which he nodded.

He’s definitely flirting. And you are definitely not complaining.

Since the ferris wheel ride ended, and you stepped back onto solid ground, the city lights beginning to fade into the background as you re-entered the heart of the festival. That was… nice, you thought, a small smile playing on your lips. As you continued your walk, the conversation flowed easily, naturally transitioning to the various brand activations scattered throughout the grounds. You pointed out a particularly eye-catching display, discussing its marketing strategies and potential impact. 

"Wow," Jungkook said, genuinely impressed. "How do you know so much?"

"It'd be funny if I didn't," you replied, a wry smile playing on your lips. "These are my clients. And potential clients. It's kind of my job to know."

He seems to be impressed.

As you walked, you began to get to know each other. "So, you're from Seoul, right?" Jungkook asked, his eyes curious.

"Yeah, born and raised," you replied, a hint of nostalgia in your voice. "Been working with Black Media Marketing for two years now. We handle a lot of brand activations, events, that kind of thing."

"That's impressive," Jungkook said, nodding. "It must be exciting working with so many different brands."

"It is," you agreed, a smile playing on your lips. "It's always something new."

"And you?" you asked. "You're from Busan, right?"

"Yeah, that's home," he said, a soft smile spreading across his face. "The band was created there," he continued proudly.

"You guys were amazing tonight," you said, genuinely impressed by the crowd's reaction. "The crowd was wild."

"Thanks," he said, a hint of pride in his voice, but also a touch of modesty. "It was a good crowd. We're still getting used to this kind of response."

"Getting used to it?" you asked, raising an eyebrow. "You guys were like… rock stars."

He chuckled. "We're just a few guys who love making music. It's great to see people enjoying it."

You spotted a photo booth, a long line snaking its way towards it. "Damn," you said, a hint of disappointment in your voice. "I wanted to go there. Couldn't even get in yesterday."

Jungkook simply looked at you, a thoughtful expression on his face. He’s quiet. Too quiet. What’s he thinking?

As you walked, you spotted Soobin in the distance, talking to a group of people. You both made eye contact for a brief moment, then quickly looked away. Awkward. Just… awkward.

"I'm actually here only for a day more," you said, breaking the silence, the thought of your limited time in the city suddenly feeling more pressing.

"Oh," he replied, a playful smirk tugging at the corner of his lips, "we've got to make the most of it then."

You were taken aback a little. Not that you minded it.

"So," he asked, his voice low, "I'll see you tomorrow?" You paused, a playful smile playing on your lips. He’s asking you out. And  you can’t help but want to say yes. "Yes," you replied, your voice barely a whisper. "I'd like that."

The next morning you smiled as you woke up. It had been a while you woke up like that.

You immediately took your phone from the nightstand and saw a text from him.

Now when did he save his name as that? Oh yeah when he dropped you off at the hotel last night and you exchanged numbers.

Jane was not in the room when you came back from whatever it is that you and Jungkook had going on last night.

You turned around to see Jane fast asleep on her bed. 

Guess you weren’t the only one who had a great time last night.

You didn’t want to enter into something too fast. Hell, you had finally found your way out from the shackles of Mingyu and even Soobin for that matter. You definitely didn’t want to ruin things - if there was even anything, with Jungkook.

You were just gonna see how things go. Yeah.

Getting out of your thoughts, you replied back to Jungkook.

Yeah definitely shouldn’t have said that.

This all you saw for the next two minutes which felt like hours.

Great, just great. 

What felt like eternity, you heard your phone ting with a notification of a new message.

You immediately opened his chat, hoping to see you haven’t embarrassed yourself yet. Lord, please.

Well thank god for that.

With a big smile on your face, you take out your comfiest pair of jeans, crop top and a leather jacket and go for your shower.

Today was going to be good. You had a feeling.

As you exited the elevator, you saw Jungkook waiting in the lobby, leaning against a marble pillar, dressed casually in a faded denim jacket, dark jeans, and sneakers. His hair, slightly tousled, caught the morning light. He looked effortlessly cool. He smiled as he saw you, a warm, genuine smile that crinkled the corners of his eyes. "Ready for what could possibly be the best day of your life?"

"Is it? The stakes seem high,”  you smirked and said, slipping your hand into his. His hand was warm, his grip firm but gentle. His touch, a familiar warmth, a promise of adventure.

He led you out onto the busy street, the air thick with the smell of exhaust fumes and hot pretzels. The sounds of the city surrounded you—the honking of taxis, the rumble of buses, the chatter of pedestrians. "Central Park first," he said, nodding towards the green expanse.

The park was a welcome break from the city's intensity. Sunlight filtered through the leaves of towering oak trees, dappling the paths with patches of light and shadow. You walked, the sounds of the city fading into a background hum, replaced by the chirping of birds and the rustling of leaves. He pointed out quiet spots, little details you wouldn’t have noticed on your own—a hidden fountain, a secluded bench, a patch of wildflowers.

"I used to come here a lot," he said, stopping by a small pond where ducks paddled lazily. "When I needed to… get away. Just to think."

“I have a similar place. In Seoul,” You reminisce and share with him.

You then stopped at a hot dog stand, the aroma of grilled onions and mustard filling the air. "Hungry?" he asked, grinning.

"Starving," you admitted, your stomach audibly rumbling.

You got two hot dogs, laughing as you struggled with the mustard and sauerkraut, the tangy smell making your mouth water. "This is a mess," you said, wiping your hands with a napkin.

He chuckled, gently wiping a smudge of mustard from your cheek with his thumb. "Yeah, but it's good." His touch was light, but it sent a little shiver down your spine, a warmth spreading through your chest. His eyes held yours, and for a moment, the bustling city faded away.

“So when do you come back to Seoul?” You ask, curious. 

“Just one more show in NYC, and we are back,” He smiles and tells you.

He then takes you to a  speakeasy tucked behind an unassuming bookstore, where they sip on cocktails under dim, moody lighting. A rooftop that offers an exclusive view of the skyline, one he swears is better than any observation deck. 

And then a  tiny, family-run vinyl shop where you flip through records together, fingers brushing occasionally as the two of you reach for the same one.

That’s when the conversation shifts.

The two of you talk about your mutual love for music. How it’s always been more than just sound for you—how it’s an experience, an emotion, a story in itself. 

“Ever since I was a kid, I used to collect CDs or cassettes of any new album that came out. If it was new, I just had to have it,” You chuckled and reminisced. 

However you did notice an expression on Jungkook’s face. That made you feel something that you haven’t felt in a while.

You also tell him about the concerts you have attended, the ones you have worked on, how you are drawn to the artistry of it all.  He listens intently, eyes never leaving yours. 

Then, he shares his own journey—his struggles, his passion, the moments that made him fall in love with music all over again.

“You know, when I started out, I had no idea what I was doing,” he admits with a small chuckle, leaning back against the vinyl shelves. “I mean, I loved music, but I didn’t think I’d ever actually make something people would listen to.”

You tilt your head, intrigued. “So what changed?”

He exhales, glancing down at a record in his hands. “I met people who believed in me more than I did. And eventually, I had to start believing too.” He looks up at you then, a quiet intensity in his gaze. “It wasn’t easy, though. I’ve had moments where I wanted to quit, where I thought maybe I wasn’t good enough. But every time I step on stage, every time I write something that actually means something to me… it reminds me why I started.”

You watch him, the way his fingers tap lightly against the record’s cover, the way his voice carries that underlying passion. “That’s incredible,” you murmur. “I think that’s why I love music so much. It’s raw. It’s real. And it connects people in ways nothing else can.”

A small smile plays on his lips. “Exactly.”

There’s an understanding between the two of you, something unspoken yet deeply felt.

Before the night ends, he tugs you toward a small photo booth tucked away in a side street.

“Come on, let’s make it official. Proof that I was the best New York tour guide,” he jokes, but there’s a softness in his gaze.

Inside, the space is small, forcing you both closer than before. The first picture is casual, both of you grinning. The second, a silly face-off. The third? A little more still. You are both just… looking at each other, lips parted slightly, something lingering in the air between them. And the fourth—well, he doesn’t hesitate to throw an arm around you, pulling you just a tad bit closer.

When the strip of photos prints out, you take one, he keeps the other. Neither of you say much about the moment, but you both know something has shifted.

The city starts to feel quieter as he walks you back to your hotel. You both stop just outside the entrance of your hotel, the hum of the streets still buzzing around them. He shifts on his feet before finally speaking up.

“I had a good time today,” You smile. You meant it.

“Me too. Had the best time,” Jungkook looks in your eyes. The kind of look that says he doesn’t want to let go. You knew that because you were feeling the same way.

And then,

“___” He calls out your name and you look at him.

He seems nervous when he says this. “Can I take you out for real? Once we’re in Seoul?” His voice holds a mix of hesitation and confidence, as if he already knows the answer but still wants to hear it from you.

Is this really happening?

Then, after a beat, he adds, “I know this is fast, but I just… I don’t know, I want to explore whatever this is.”

You don't reply immediately, just look at him, your heart pounding against your ribs. Then, with a shy nod, you managed to say, “Yeah. Me too,”

A slow smile spreads across his face.

He looks even more endearing with this genuine smile of his.

Guess you both were the kind of people who wanted to take risks and not have regrets later.

He leans in, pressing a soft peck against your cheek before pulling back.

“Goodnight.”

And just like that, he walks away, leaving you standing there with your fingers grazing the spot where his lips had been, your heart still racing, your mind already replaying the night over and over again.

A week later, you wake up with a text. The kind of text that makes you gushy like a teenager.

And before you could respond to him, you received another text. a series of texts rather.

While the two of them continued to bicker, you had to reply back to him.

Maybe love really doesn’t disappear. Maybe it just reverbs—waiting for the right moment to be heard again.

And maybe it was finally your time.

© foreignjaykay, 2025.

[imaginespazzi]

Part 3: Miss Me, Miss Me Not

Masterlist - Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 9 - Part 10 - Part 11 - Part 12 - Part 13 - Part 14 - Part 15

And it hits me when the lights go on (shit, maybe I miss you)

(In which a lazy writer somehow still manages to make her deadlines, much to her own shock)

Pairing: Paige Bueckers X Azzi Fudd

Themes: Angst, Pining and a teensy bit of Fluff

Words: 5.8K

TW: Swearing (once again I think that's it?)

A/N: Hello my lovelies <3 I'm not gonna lie til about an hour ago, I very much did not think I was gonna give y'all a Monday update but here we are! A couple of housekeeping things, I went back and added months to the years so hopefully that's more helpful. I lowkey dislike this part but I felt like the fic needed it and I'm excited to write the next part. Ngl, the editing on this is pretty nonexistent because trying to read this back lowkey killed me so please feel free to point out mistakes so I can fix them. As always, let me know what you liked, and disliked and anything you wanna see going forward. I really appreciate all of y'alls feedback and the long reviews make my day! Have a good rest of your week lovies <3

September 2017

Azzi: just got home :) 

It’s a simple text and it should be easy for Paige to conjure up an equally simple reply. Instead she finds herself typing and deleting, over and over, because nothing sounds quite right. There’s this hollow feeling thrumming in her chest, that has only gotten stronger every passing minute since she’d said goodbye to Azzi at the airport. If she tries hard enough, she can still feel the remnants of their last hug lingering against every inch of her skin. She wants to memorize that feeling and create a blanket out of its threads to numb the ice cold shiver that’s been repeatedly running through her veins from the second Azzi had gotten on that plane. But even that might not be enough. Not when she’s learnt just how warm Azzi’s presence can be and how everything else pales in comparison. 

Paige lies to herself that it’s an accidental slip of her fingers, that she’d meant to press send not call, that she had every intention of hanging up the facetime on the first ring itself. 

But then Azzi picks up on the second one.

And really it would be rude to hang up. 

“Hey what’s up?” Azzi’s face fills the screen, tired eyes staring intently at Paige through the screen. 

“Oh um-” Paige fumbles for words, awkwardly shuffling her feet that are dangling off the side of her bed, “I just wanted to ask how your flight was?”

Azzi raises an eyebrow, “you couldn’t have texted me that?”

“Too tired to text,” Paige lies and the words i just wanted to hear your voice stay stuck, burning hot, in her throat, “gotta save these money-making fingers for more important things.”

“Yeah I’m hanging up-”

“NO-” it comes out far more forceful than it should and if possible, Azzi’s eyebrow shoots up even farther, as Paige clears her throat, “I mean- uh- you didn’t tell me how your flight was.”

Paige is too busy cringing at herself to notice the light blush that tinges Azzi’s cheeks. She’s too busy wondering why this girl brings out this nervous bumbling side of hers to notice the fond smile that almost cracks through Azzi’s lips. 

“The flight was okay. I actually got to sleep this time,” Azzi says pointedly and Paige laughs. 

“So what you’re saying is it was boring as hell.”

“I’m saying it was really peaceful not having someone yapping in my ear while I was trying to sleep.”

“So you didn’t miss me?” Paige presses, trying to keep her voice teasing despite how desperately she wants the admission. 

Azzi hesitates, as if she’s debating with herself, before, “I didn’t say that.”

It’s a little ridiculous how large Paige’s grin is but it’s okay, because Azzi’s smiling back, soft and shy. They’d look foolish to anyone else, the way they’re so intently gazing at each other through a screen as if there’s no barrier between them at all. 

“It’s gonna be weird going to the gym without you tomorrow morning,” Paige confesses after a second, moving to lay down on her stomach. 

“I bet. You’re gonna get absolutely nothing done without me,” Azzi teases dramatically before her eyes soften, “it’s weird that I’m not gonna see you at all tomorrow.”

There’s something gut-wrenching about that admission and yet, there’s something in it that heals a part of Paige’s heart that she hadn’t even known needed to be fixed. It means something to her that Azzi must feel it too. Because if she’s honest with herself, Paige had been just a little afraid that maybe the connection was just in her head, that maybe Azzi was simply tolerating her presence out of kindness. 

“You should just move to Minnesota,” Paige replies finally, “much nicer than Virgina or whatever.”

“Have you ever even been to Virginia?” Azzi asks, eyebrows raised as she flips herself to lie on her back, holding her phone above her in a way that lets Paige see entirely too much and yet not nearly enough. 

“No but it sounds boring as fuck.”

“Not with me,” Azzi says, biting her bottom lip sheepishly as soon as the words are out. 

Paige smirks, suddenly filled with a brand new confidence, “yeah? You’d make Virgina interesting for me Fudd? What would we do?”

Azzi licks her lips and Paige feels her mouth go dry. 

“We’d be together,” the younger girl says finally, averting her gaze as the depth of her words begin to make Paige feel like she’s being flooded by an ocean of emotions she’s not quite ready to feel yet, “anything can be interesting if we’re together.”

It would be so easy to come up with a sarcastic quip or tease Azzi for being a sap and yet there’s a certain sincerity in this moment that feels too fragile for Paige to feign nonchalance. 

“Is Virginia nice in the winter?” she asks finally, hands fidgeting with the hair ties secured around her wrist, “Minny’s a little too cold sometimes.”

Azzi’s eyes shine and Paige wants to try and read them, find the little clues hidden in her irises and solve the mystery lingering behind the crimson flush of her cheeks. But the truth is that Paige is a little scared of what she’d find, a little scared that discovering Azzi might mean discovering herself too. 

“You should come find out some time,” the brunette says, casual tone filled with intricacies of something far deeper. It’s the closest they’ve gotten to saying anything of actual substance and they tip-toe around saying what they both want, daring the other to ask first. 

“I dunno,” Paige says, determined to win the game, “I’m not in the habit of showing up to places without a proper invite.”

Azzi scoffs, “a proper invite? Are you expecting someone to send you a carrier pigeon with a gold letter addressed to her royal highness or something?”

“That would be nice,” Paige surmises and Azzi rolls her eyes.

“Does your back ever hurt from carrying that ego?”

“Only hurts from carrying my team.”

“Oh my god you’re so full of it.”

“Full of talent? Yessirrrr.”

Azzi huffs, “Paige.”

“Azzi,” Paige hums. 

“Do you wanna come visit me in Virginia during winter break?” Azzi says finally, a small smile playing on her lips like she’s okay with losing this game as long as it’s to Paige. 

“If I must,” Paige says dramatically, shrugging her shoulders and everything as Azzi lets out an offended squeak. But inside, her heart flutters at the offer, at the idea of seeing Azzi again, even if it feels like a lifetime away. Because as long as it’s Azzi on the other side, Paige and her impatient self can wait however long it takes. 

“Actually you know what nevermind, you don’t gotta come,” Azzi concedes bitterly,  scrunching her face (and Paige would never tell her this but she thinks Azzi looks just a little too cute when she’s mad and so maybe she riles her up on purpose)

“No takesies backsies Az,” Paige sing-songs before her lips uptick from a smirk into something more sincere, “hey Az,” she whispers, giggling to herself when Azzi pretends to ignore her, “I’d really like to come see you in Virginia during winter break.”

And as a brilliant grin dazzles across Azzi’s face, Paige realizes that her favorite thing about Azzi’s smile isn’t when her dimples show or when her eyes twinkle, it’s when it’s there because of Paige, when it’s there just for Paige. 

“Good,” Azzi whispers as they fall into a comfortable silence. 

There’s this serene sense of calm that laces itself around Paige’s nerves. Her normally fidgeting body is content to be perfectly still, an anomaly to her usual demeanor. The truth is that Paige isn’t the kind of person who’s okay with just existing; she likes to spend every second in motion, living out the high. There’s a part of her that’s scared of missing moments, scared that the people around her will leave her behind if she doesn’t chase them. But it’s different with Azzi. The younger girl makes Paige feel like it’s okay if she takes a moment to just breathe. Because Azzi will wait. Because Azzi won’t leave Paige behind. 

“Wait,” it’s a little while before Azzi pipes up, shaking Paige out of her thoughts, “what time is it?”

Paige’s eyes flicker to the time on her phone, confused by the line of questioning, “it’s almost 9 why?”

“Don’t you have a team party or something to go to tonight?” Azzi asks, face scrunching, “I swear you told me you had something tonight.”

“Oh-yeah- Amaya’s back to school thing,” Paige sheepishly scratches her neck, suddenly feeling itchy in her flannel shirt. She’d forgotten she was wearing that instead of her daily clothes. Hell, she’d forgotten she was supposed to be going somewhere in the first place, too occupied with other thoughts. 

“Bro get up,” Azzi orders, “you’re already late.”

“Nah it’s fine. I don’t think I’m gonna go,” Paige says and she thinks she should probably feel a little more guilty about it. 

“What do you mean you’re not gonna go?” Azzi asks in disbelief, “dude you’re the star of the team. You have to go.”

“Amaya will understand besides-” Paige drags in a deep breath, feeling vulnerable as the next words fall out in a quiet whisper, “I don’t wanna hang up yet.”

“Paige c’mon we can talk tomorrow,” Azzi tries to protest but it’s half-hearted at best.

“I wanna talk right now,” Paige argues, “you don’t wanna talk to me?”

For a second Paige thinks Azzi might just say no, might just chip away a little bit of heart with a well-intentioned rejection, but she doesn’t, “always wanna talk to you P.”

“Then don’t hang up. Talk to me.”

And Azzi does. All night. 

Two weeks laters there’s a letter, in an envelope with a picture of a carrier pigeon, that arrives in the Bueckers’ mail box. 

To her royal highness, 

Unfortunately I couldn’t find an actual carrier pigeon (I swear I tried) so this envelope and the mailman will have to do. 

~ You are formally invited this winter break to the Fudd family residence in Virginia. ~

(And you better show up Bueckers)

Yours, 

Azzi

February 2033

“I can’t believe you’re leaving me,” Ice whines petulantly as she makes herself comfortable on the couch across from where Paige is getting her makeup done, “this is parental neglect.”

Paige laughs, eyes closed, her makeup artist does her mascara, “you’ll survive.”

“You don’t know that” Ice argues, plucking a grape from the fruit basket before segueing into a rant about how boring Arlington, Texas is. 

Paige is grateful for the distraction her younger friend is providing. Her nerves had been on edge since the moment she’d woken up this morning, anxious to get the impending farewell press conference over with. She’d already started accepting that the Wings weren’t the right place for her but that feeling had only been heightened by her trip to the Valkyries. And ever since she’s come back, Paige feels a little bit like she’s sleepwalking through her final moments in Dallas. If she’s honest, she’s probably rushing things a little bit. There’s still plenty of time before she really has to move to Oakland but it had been her choice to move there as soon as possible. Paige had always been good at conjuring excuses and she had plenty as to why she needed to be in California so soon. But at the end of the day it isn’t about training or team bonding or any of the other hundred justifications she’s given anyone who’s asked. It’s about a little girl who’s eyes had been brimming with tears when saying goodbye, a little girl who had made Paige pinky swear that she’d be back as soon as possible. 

Really, Paige thinks she should be applauded for her restraint, because truth be told, the second Stephie’s lower lip had trembled, Paige had been prepared to ask Ice to just ship her stuff to Oakland so that she’d never have to let go of the little girl’s hand. 

And here’s the thing, Paige is willing to admit she wants to go back to the Bay Area for Stephie. It’s that pesky little part of her that’s desperate to go back for Stephie’s mother, to go back for one more hesitant yet lingering touch, that she won’t ever share with anyone else. 

“I never thought I’d live to see you and Azzi willingly playing together again,” Ice says as soon as Paige’s makeup artist leaves the room, “KK and I didn’t even try betting on it, we were that sure it wouldn’t happen. Shit I should have. I totally would have won.”

“Don’t y’all get tired of betting on my life?” Paige asks, rolling her eyes, trying to ignore the first part of what Ice said. 

“Betting on your life has made me hundreds of dollars bro,” Ice says, before a more earnest  look crosses her face, “but genuinely P, are you sure about this? There’s a lot of history there.”

Paige sighs, “it’s not about our history. It’s a basketball decision. And we’re both mature adults who know that. I’m just tryna win. Nothing else.”

“It’s never nothing when it comes to you two.”

“It is this time,” Paige argues adamantly and Ice raises her hands in surrender. 

“I just don’t want another set of teammates to have to deal with y’alls bullshit,” the younger girl teases, but it’s laced with a hint of seriousness that sends a flare of guilt shooting through Paige’s body. 

“Ice-” she begins.

But Ice is quick to change to a lighter subject, “can’t believe Jana’s the one that gets mom and dad back together. I always knew she was the favorite.”

“We didn’t have favorites,” Paige plays along, thankful for Ice and her ability to always keep the tension to a bare minimum. 

“Oh don’t lie. We all know you did,” Ice scoffs and then lets out a chuckle, “and now Azzi’s actually a mom. That’s kinda insane. And you met the kid right?”

“Yeah. Yeah I did,” Paige says and she can’t help the way her entire face breaks into a gleaming smile as her thoughts turn into memories of Stephie. She doesn’t even realize she’s gotten lost in a different world until Ice coughs, an amused grin playing on her lips. 

“You’re so royally fucked Paige,” Ice shakes her head, “the only person I’ve seen you smile that big for before is Azzi.”

“She’s a cute, smart, adorable kid, that’s why I’m smiling,” Paige tries to defend herself. 

“She’s Azzi’s cute, smart, adorable kid,” Ice counters. 

“That has nothing to do with it,” Paige protests again but it rings hollow to her own ears.

“Oh my god I needa call KK and get this bet started. It’s only a matter of time for real,” Ice says, more to herself than to Paige, as she whips out her phone, probably texting KK. 

“A matter of time till what?”

“You’ll find out Paigey,” Ice says gravely with a mocking smile, patting Paige’s head, “all in due time.”

***

The Dallas Wings media room is buzzing, reporters desperate to ask Paige questions and the blonde tries to maintain a smile despite the fact that her heart is lurching in her throat right now. Her opening speech had been short and sweet, parroting basically the same thing that had gone out on her social media the night before; she’d been desperate to just get it out. Generally, Paige is pretty good with the media, having been immersed in the spotlight since basically forever. The attention and how to maneuver it has always come naturally to her so she’s not sure why she feels so unnerved by it all today.  From the back of the media room, Ice sends her a thumbs up and a reassuring grin and Paige lets out a breath, glad to have at least that comforting presence with her. 

“Aidrian Ginsburger with Bleacher Report, Paige, you’ve obviously spent all of your career so far with the Wings, can you tell us a little bit about the impact this organization has had on you?”

Paige smiles at the question, letting her brain skim through pages and pages of fond memories she has of time spent with this team. It might be time to move on but that doesn’t mean she doesn’t have plenty of cherished moments. 

“Yeah um- this place has really shaped who I am as a person. Since day one, the front office, obviously it’s a different one to the one I came in with, they did a lot to make sure that I was comfortable. My teammates through the years have been incredible and I wouldn’t be the player I am today without them. And of course the fans you know, they always showed out for the team, for me. Always supported me in anyways and I hope that I was able to give back the love to them that they always gave to me,” she says, suddenly nostalgic for the team that had started it all. 

The next questions are similar in nature and Paige’s answer varies only in words but not substance. She feels herself start to settle into it, now fielding the expected questions about the Wings and Valkyries with an air of confidence. There are a couple questions about Azzi that make her heart thump, but that was to be expected. It’s a pretty brilliant story in the making, two MVPs who used to play on the same college team coming together. Talia had warned Paige in advance that there was no avoiding it. But for the most part the questions have an easy answer about how Azzi’s a brilliant player and she’s excited to play with her old friend again. That is until a familiar hand shoots up and all the tension that had previously dissipated, comes roaring back with a vengeance. 

“Olivia Reynolds with the Dallas Morning News, Paige, as others have said today, you and Azzi Fudd played together at UConn and you were best friends.” Olivia’s eyes glint viciously, “I mean it’s pretty well documented how hard you tried to recruit her to UConn. But despite being best friends, the two of you have been never seen hanging out, outside of games and formal events, unlike your other teammates that is-”

“Is there a point to this?” Paige asks, hands fisting in her lap as she tries to keep herself calm. 

Olivia smiles, sugary sweet, “I was just wondering if maybe there was some tension and how that would affect your on-court chemistry at the Valkyries?”

“There’s no tension,” Paige lies through gritted teeth, “we didn’t hang out because we live far apart. There isn’t much else to it. And even if there was, Azzi and I are professionals. We wouldn’t let anything off the court affect our goal to win.”

“You lived far apart before UConn too, but that didn’t seem to stop you guys. What changed?” Olivia presses.

“Time did. Our lives did. There’s nothing sensational here. It’s just a case of two people drifting apart,” Paige says and the fabrication feels heavy on her tongue. If only it really had been that simple. 

“But clearly not that much,” Olivia says, and Paige glances at the moderator, desperate for an intervention, “there were plenty of fan pictures of the two of you out getting ice cream with Azzi’s daughter. It seems like you’re already fitting into that Bay Area life-”

“I’m not hearing a question at the end of your sentence,” Paige hisses and she can practically already hear the scolding she’s going to get from Talia once her agent gets wind of how this press conference had gone. The entire media cohort is watching the exchange with wide eyes, no doubt questioning whether they were embarrassed or impressed by their colleague. Ice is mouthing something to Paige, probably something along the lines of please keep your shit together, but Paige is steaming. Really, she should have expected this. 

“Well if you’d let me finish,” Olivia snarls, the façade of innocence dropping, “even if the two of you have drifted, as you put it, clearly there’s still a relationship there. How big of a role did Azzi Fudd play in your choice to move to the Valkyries?”

Paige sucks in a deep breath, nails digging into her palm at the question, “Azzi is the best shooting guard in the country. That was her role in my decision to move to the Valkyries. I don’t know what else you’re trying to imply, but I want to play with her because we play well together. That’s it,” she stands up and there’s pin drop silence, “thank you all for coming but we’re done with this press conference. 

***

Paige is seething as she exits the media room, Ice hot on her heels trying to calm her down. The sane part of her knows she should head back to the makeup room or even to her car, instead she finds her feet carrying her in the direction of where she knows Olivia Reynolds will be, reviewing her press conference notes by the coffee machine like she always is. 

“What the actual fuck was that?” Paige spits as she comes to a halt in front of the reporter. 

“I know you think playing basketball is the only job in the world Paige, but that was a reporter doing her job,” Olivia says, her calm and composed voice only furthering Paige’s irritation. 

“Bull-fucking-shit.” Paige sneers, “that wasn’t a reporter out there, that was my ex-wife grilling me like we were back in fucking divorce court.”

Olivia cocks her head, “oh so you do remember who I am to you then?”

“Oliv-”

“Because if you did remember, I’d like to think you’d have the courtesy to at least personally tell me that you were moving to your,” she drops her voice, “ex-girlfriend’s team instead of letting me find out with the rest of the world. You don’t think you owed me that?”

“That’s what this is about?” Paige sighs, “Olivia we’ve been divorced for almost three years now, I don’t owe you-”

“You didn’t owe Azzi anything either,” Olivia whisper-yells, the calm in her voice replaced by the same anger that had tainted the last year of their marriage, “but when we first started dating, you kept us a secret for months. You wouldn’t even tell your fucking teammates cause you were so scared she’d find out,” her eyes drift towards Ice who looks like she wishes she’d made a different decision rather than following Paige out here, “you said she deserved to hear it from you but apparently I don’t-’

“I didn’t mean it like that Olivia. Look, I meant what I said up there. There’s nothing between- ”

“Spare me,” Olivia says, as she stuffs her notepad into her bag, “you can lie to all those other reporters out there about how all of this is a basketball decision. You can even lie to yourself if you want. But you can’t lie to me, not when I spent four years fighting to keep our relationship from getting crushed under whatever it is that Azzi is to you.”

***

It doesn’t matter how far Paige burrows her head into her pillows, she can’t seem to stop herself from hearing Olivia’s words reverberating through her ears. The two of them had done well at co-existing in their social circles after the divorce had been finalized. While no one could quite call them friends, they’d done a good job at being friendly, being able to converse and share an occasional drink when in their combined friend group. And if Paige is honest, she knows she’s fucked up, knows she probably did owe Olivia a call. But calling Olivia would have meant calling someone who would inevitably make Paige face the truth, just like she had today. The truth that, even with the deal Talia had concocted with the Liberty hanging in the background like a dark presence, the move to the Valkyries was about a lot more than just basketball for Paige. 

She’s so entrenched in her thought that she doesn’t bother checking who it is when the facetime rings, irritation seeping into her voice as she answers it, face still buried in her pillows, “WHAT?”

“Miss Buecks?” a tiny voice comes through the phone and for a second, Paige thinks she must be dreaming, until she finally lifts her head to look at her phone, and Stephie’s small face lights up the whole screen. And it’s like she can feel little hands on her shoulders, slowly unknotting her tightened muscles. 

“Stephie,” she breathes out, a sudden sense of serene calm washing over her previously tense body. 

“Hi Miss Buecks,” Stephie says happily before she squints at the screen, “you sleep weird.”

Paige laughs, “and why’s that?”

“You’re not wearing pajamas and it’s only seven. ‘Dults don’t sleep at seven,” Stephie says matter-of-factly. 

“It’s actually nine here,” Paige says, a little surprised by the time; she hadn’t realized she'd been moping in her bed for that long. Ice had forced her to get lunch together, not wanting to leave Paige alone after the encounter with Olivia. Once she’d finally gotten back to her apartment, Paige had flopped on her bed, taking out her frustrations on her poor pillow. 

“That’s not poss-ble,” Stephie scrunches her face, “Mama’s phone says it’s seven.”

“It’s seven in California, it’s nine in Texas,” Paige tries to explain though by the way Stephie’s looking at her, she thinks she’s probably just confusing the girl more, “how’d you figure out how to call me babe?”

Stephie gives her an exasperated look, “Miss Buecks I’m five. I know how to use facetime.”

“And does your Mama know you're facetiming me?” Paige asks, eyebrows raised.

“She’s in the shower,” Stephie whispers, grinning sheepishly. 

As if on cue, Azzi appears on the corner of the screen and Paige feels her mouth run dry. The darker skinned woman is clad in a light pink fluffy bathrobe that ends right above her knees, giving Paige the perfect view of her long, toned legs that seem to shimmer despite the shitty quality of the facetime. Rivulets of water cling to her neck, delicately cascading down the valley of her breasts before disappearing from sight. And Paige must be dehydrated because never has she wanted to taste a drop of liquid more than she does right now. 

“Stephie,” Azzi groans, as she walks towards the phone and Paige gulps, heart beating faster with every step the other woman takes, everything about her becoming clearer and clearer, “what did I say about using my phone.”

“Only in em-a-gencies,” Stephie recites, “but Mama I had an em-a-gency.”

Azzi tilts her head, eyebrows raised as she gives her daughter a knowing look, “and what was your emergency?”

“I really, really, really, this much” Stephie stretches out her hands as far as they’ll go,  really, really, really, miss Miss Buecks.”

Paige feels her heart flutter. Stephie’s words feel like a hand carefully pulling her out from under the pile of stress she’d been buried under the whole day. It’s like the little girl is pushing away the rubble pressing against her lungs, turning the rocks into dust with a light touch and Paige feels like she can finally breathe. 

“Sounds like a pretty big emergency to me,” she says, relishing the way Stephie’s face lights up at the admission, “cause I really, really, really miss you too Steph.”

“See Mama,” Stephie says, placing the phone against a wall so can place her hands on her hips and look up at Azzi with a pleased smirk. 

Azzi rolls her eyes before glaring at Paige, “you’re a bad influence on her.”

“I’m the best influence on her,” Paige argues, sending Stephie a conspiratorial wink, “just you wait Az, I’mma teach her all the good things.”

Something unreadable flashes across Azzi’s face before she’s back to looking at Paige with an unimpressed arched eyebrow, “I am not letting you corrupt my daughter Paige Bueckers.”

“We’ll see,” Paige says slowly and Azzi shakes her head before turning to Stephie. 

“Alright Stephie bean time to go brush your teeth. It’s almost bedtime babes,” she says with a stern look 

“But Mama-”

“No arguing, you have school tomorrow missy,” Azzi reminds the little girl and Paige can’t help but marvel at the mother that Azzi’s become. And it makes her heart ache for the fantasies she’d dreamed of when she was in her early twenties. She’d always known Azzi would be a great mother; Paige had just naively thought she’d be there alongside her too. 

“Can Miss Buecks stay on the phone till I fall asleep?” Stephie asks, peering up at Azzi with big doe eyes, “please Mama pleeeease.”

“I’m sure Miss Buecks has other things-”

“I don’t,” Paige cuts in far too enthusiastically, clearing her throat to get back some semblance of restraint as both mother and daughter turn to look at each other, “I don’t have anything to do tonight so I can stay till you fall asleep Stephie.”

“YAYY,” Stephie cheers enthusiastically while Azzi studies her with a weary look, “I’m gonna go brush my teeth and then you can read me, my story Mama.”

With that, the little girl runs in the direction of what Paige can only assume is the bathroom, skipping with childlike joy as she sing-songs about something Paige can’t quite make out. 

“You know you don’t have to say yes to everything she asks right?” Azzi says slowly as she grabs her phone and sits on the couch. 

Paige shrugs, “I have time to stay.”

“Do you?” Azzi asks skeptically, “because from what I heard the Wings are having a little farewell party tonight, for you.”

Paige narrows her eyes, “and how exactly did you hear that?”

“I have connections.”

“You talked to Ice.”

“I talked to Ice,” Azzi concedes, “and I’m pretty sure you’re already an hour or so late for it.”

“Exactly. I’m already an hour late so why bother,” Paige says, sitting up so she can rest head against her headboard, “why were you talking to Ice?”

“I can’t talk to my friend?” Azzi asks slowly. 

“Of course you can but why specifically today?” Paige presses 

Azzi bites her lip, “I um- I watched your press conference today. You uh-” she averts her gaze, “you seemed really stressed at the end and I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

A soft grin upturns Paige’s lips before she can stop it, “were you worried for me Fudd?”

“That’s not-” Azzi groans, “shut up.”

Paige smirks, “you were worried for me.”

“I was concerned for my future teammate," Azzi huffs, “besides,” her face hardens, “she was way out of line.”

Paige sighs at the implied mention of Olivia, “maybe but maybe I deserved it.”

“No you didn’t,” Azzi protests and that oh so familiar protective tone in her voice carves itself into every crevice of Paige’s heart, “no one deserves to be put on the spot like that. She was being unethical trying to dig into your personal life like that.”

“This is nice,” Paige says softly, unable to help herself. 

“What is?” 

“Seeing you get all defensive over me. It's nice to see you still care. I didn’t know if you still did.”

Azzi’s quiet for a second, gnawing at her bottom lip as she looks at Paige, “I’ve always cared Paige. And-” she hesitates as the tightrope beneath them wavers, “I’m always gonna care.”

There’s years worth of unsaid words lingering in the silence between them as they breach some unspoken rule they’d both inadvertently agreed to. And they both know that they shouldn’t be saying things like this to each other, that they’re teetering on the edge of falling into an abyss that has nothing but destruction at the bottom. But Azzi’s words feel like sunshine, like heat waves across her skin and Paige is so tired of feeling cold. 

Before either of them can say another word, Stephie comes back into the room, crawling into Azzi’s lap.

“I’m back,” she beams, completely unaware of the way the two adults are scrambling to act normal around her. 

“Here baby,” Azzi hands the phone to Stephie, “take Miss Buecks to your room. Mama’s gonna go change and then she’ll come read to you okay?”

“‘Kay Mama,” Stephie complies, pressing a soft kiss to Azzi’s cheek before running towards her room. For a second Paige’s screen is blurred in motion until Stephie fixes her again and Paige catches a glimpse of Stephie’s room, specifically the walls that are painted the perfect shade of Valkyrie purple. 

“I love your walls Stephie,” she compliments.

“They’re pu-ple,” Stephie exclaims, “that’s my favorite color.”

“First the ice-cream, now the color, you’re stealing all of my favorites kid,” Paige teases but she’s secretly pleased by this revelation. It’s dangerous how fast Stephie’s starting to whittle down Paige’s walls and build herself a permanent shelf in Paige’s cabinet of my people. 

“Can I tell you a secret Miss Buecks,” Stephie whispers, bringing her lips closer to the phone. 

Paige smiles, “of course you can.”

“I think Mama misses you too,” Stephie says softly and Paige feels her heart catch in her throat, “I heard her tell Nanna on the phone.”

“Can I tell you a secret Stephie?” Paige lowers her voice, leaning into her phone. 

“‘Course you can Miss Buecks.”

Paige swallows as the admission falls from her lips, “I really miss your Mama too.”

I miss her always and I think I’ll miss her forever. 

“What are you the two of you whispering about,” Azzi’s voice cuts in as she tucks herself next to Stephie, a children’s book in her hand. 

“Nothing Mama,” Stephie says immediately, winking at Paige through the phone. 

“Yeah,” Paige echoes, ignoring her erratic heartbeat, “nothing Azzi.”

Azzi looks between the both of them, clearly aware she’s being left out of something, but doesn’t push further. Instead she flips open the book, pulls Stephie closer into her arms and starts reading. If anyone were to ask Paige later, she wouldn’t have the faintest idea about a single word in that damn book. Because as Azzi’s soothing voice begins to lull Stephie to sleep, and the younger girl, despite her yawns, holds the phone up so the blonde can be included in every second of it, Paige feels herself being pulled into a dream she has no right to dream. She dreams of being in Stephie’s purple bedroom. She dreams of her and Azzi lying against Stephie’s lilac bedspread, their hands entwined in the middle over Stephie’s little body. She dreams of a forever that she’d long forsaken.

[sincerelybubbles]

It's a Date part 2

warnings: fluff, descriptions of being touch starved (? idk) not really edited oopsies

synopsis: things go well after f!reader and spencer's date, spencer helps reader see that she's wanted and deserving of affection

part 1

⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 .𖥔˚⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 .𖥔˚

“Sorry, it’s messy,” you say, wringing your hands as you walk through the door. You hear Spencer laugh out through his nose, a quick burst of air that has you spinning around to watch him latch the door. 

He’s shaking his head, hair falling in front of his eyes, nose bridge crinkled. 

“What?”

“You’re acting like I’ve never been here before.” He twists the deadbolt and walks over to you, shaking his head one more time before slipping off his shoes and heading into the kitchen. 

“I don’t know, I guess it feels different, somehow, now that …” Neither of you has tried to put a label on this. It’s been weeks, coffee dates squished between hectic work schedules, yawning absences while he chases cases with the team, and one movie night at his place that had you listening to him rant about the inaccuracies of a historical drama you picked out. It’s been lovely, you adore his tendencies to go off on tangents, enjoying simply watching him light up and trip over his own words to get everything out. It feels like he’s racing to say whatever he can before you interrupt him. You never have, something he commented on during your second date. 

“You know you can just tell me to shut up when I go off about stupid stuff like that. Everyone does, I’m used to it, I don’t want to bore you.” “Why would I? It’s not boring or stupid — it’s stuff you care about and I like hearing what you care about.”

“Now that, what?” Spencer asks, settling his back against your counter and resting his hands on the edge behind him. 

He’s still in his work clothes, tie loose, gun at his hip, hair behind his ears. 

One thing you didn’t expect from him? Confidence. You knew he had to be confident in some ways — he’s never doubted his intellectual ability that you could tell — but it only took a short time for him to gain his comfort around you. No longer did he blush and bumble his way through sentences, struggling to meet your eye. Your first kiss actually seemed to clear that up quickly. 

It happened feet away from where you’re standing, outside of your door, after dinner. He reached forward to brush an eyelash on your cheek as you said goodbye, you leaned into his hand and, after a moment and with a burst of adrenaline that fueled your forwardness, you leaned up and toward him, a hand on his arm, and brought your lips to his.  He was hesitant, fingertips brushing your cheekbone, but he came to life as you pulled away to ask him if this was alright, palm meeting your cheek fully and bringing you in for a proper kiss.  Excitement was evident by the way he pressed closer to you, stepping nearer and putting another hand on your waist, locking you in place. Under the excitement was a tenderness you’ve never felt before. He kissed like he wanted to take all the air from your lungs but he held you with the sort of care that made your lungs ache for a reason entirely seperate from the kissing. 

“I don’t know,” you say, chickening out from asking for the hundredth time, going to meet him in the kitchen. 

“Hey,” Spencer says, catching you by the waist and pulling you to come stand near him with one hand on your hip. “Ask,” he says, tucking his chin to grin down at you, nudging your foot with his.

“Why don’t you?”

“I’m afraid to scare you off,” he says with a smile. Behind his eyes, though, you can see the truth in it. 

He called you the morning after your date. Young sunlight caught in your eyes and caused you to squint as you searched for your forgotten phone, spots dancing and dust creating a kaleidoscope as you pressed answer.  “Hello?” you asked, confused. It was Spencer, wishing you a good morning. He went quiet when you asked why he called, if everything was okay.  “Everything is fine, sorry, I didn’t mean to worry you.” “It’s okay, I need to be up soon anyway. Why’d you call, though?” “I just couldn’t get the thought out of my head last night that I must have done something to mess it all up. I wanted to call and make sure I hadn’t.” “You could never, Spencer.”

You know the uncertainty still rears its head, even with the confidence that’s fostered with time. 

“It feels incredibly juvenile,” you say, rolling your eyes and smoothing your hands up his chest to rest on his shoulders. 

“Ask,” he whispers, “I’ll say yes. All you have to do is ask.”

The week after your first date, Spencer showed up at your office, panting, a bag in his hand. You stood up, shocked to see him at the station, and hurried out to meet him in the lobby.  “You said you wanted lunch from the Chinese place down the road because you forgot to pack something,” Spencer said by way of explanation. You had mentioned it, briefly, in a text. “I was just complaining, you didn’t have to spend your lunch break on this,” you said, eyes welling up with tears. You reached forward, ignoring the bags, and pulled him into a hug. “You’re entirely too sweet to me. This was too much.” “Nothing is too much, all you have to do is ask.” 

“When I call back my friend later,” you start, determined to ask while looking in his eyes, drowning as you do it, face heating, “can I tell her my boyfriend came to spend some time with me?”

It’s sort of a cop-out, of course, and Spencer catches it — you’re not directly asking, but he nods anyway, then laughs, leaning forward to kiss you. 

The kiss is messy, he’s laughing and you’re smiling, but you appreciate it all the same. 

“Why are you laughing?” You ask, leaning back and catching another kiss on your nose and then your cheek. 

“There’s a few reasons. I never thought I would have this, for one, and I guess I’m just happy.”

“You guess?”

“I know.”

You wind up in bed. Nothing nefarious, not yet — both of you understand that space to breathe and grow together is much more important and that awkwardness needs to settle into comfortable familiarity before crossing that specific line. 

Spencer drags his finger across your cheek, tracing your bone structure. His other hand is tucked under your side, holding your hip and keeping you close. 

The feeling in your chest is heavy, pressing up into your throat and capturing any words you could dare to think. 

“Are you okay?” Spencer asks, voice a whisper, breath fanning across your face and causing little hairs to prick up across your arms. 

You nod, looking him in the eye and signaling the truth. His nearness wasn’t causing you distress but the unfamiliarity of it is hard to not become consumed by. 

You squeeze your eyes closed, nose scrunching and fight tears. 

“Are you sure?” Spencer asks, voice hesitant, fingers leaving your face and arms pushing to give you space. Space you don’t want. Space that makes your eyes snap open, searching for him, afraid he might waltz off any moment. 

“Yes,” you say, voice certain and hand snapping out to grab him before he can go too far. 

Tears well up in your eyes, against your internal fighting. You huff out an embarrassed laugh, leaning forward to press your forehead into his shoulder. His arms tighten around you, hesitant around your waist and cradling the back of your head. 

“Tell me what’s wrong, please,” he asks, voice soft, begging, an undertone of a demand that you adore. The sense that he would do anything to ensure that you feel better washes over you. It makes the sweetly-sick feeling well up into you further, drowning your senses. 

“Nothing is wrong,” you say, cuddling into him, slipping a foot inbetween his and tangling yourself tighter, “it’s just been a while since I’ve felt … wanted. And I do, now, with you — feel wanted. At least, I hope I am.”

“You are,” Spencer interrupts, reassuring. 

“It’s nice but I don’t really know what to do with it.”

“It?”

“The feeling, I guess.” You shrug. “I suppose touch starved is the right word, but it feels like more than that.”

His grip tightens as your tears come with a faster frequency, to your own annoyance. 

“I’m sorry, this is a really nice moment, I’m beyond happy, I don’t mean to ruin it.” You attempt to pull away to wipe your face but Spencer doesn’t let you. 

“Did you know that some studies show that a lack of connection socially is more detrimental than obesity or smoking? We literally need to feel connected to other people. And that’s just social connection — when left alone without any type of physical connection, specifically physical connection from someone you care about, depression, stress, and physical health can deteriorate. It’s natural to feel overwhelmed when you’re finally getting what you need — what everyone needs.”

“Touch starved,” you whisper, allowing him to hold you tight, relaxing further into his hold.

“Sorry?”

“Touch starved — I’ve heard people call it touch starved.”

Spencers hand moves to stroke your hair, picking up strands and twisting them before smoothing it down again. 

“That feels like an apt term for it.”You fall asleep like that, warm and pressed into his side, listening to him softly tell you about his week, feeling secure and wanted in a way you never have before.

taglist: @0108s22m @bowerfeithwk @screechingphantommaker @cultish-corner @doigettokeepyou @izukuwus

note: i really intended on this being more so please forgive me -- let me know what you think! i welcome constructive criticism as well as any and all thoughts you have!!

now that i've finished this, i might attempt another part to give u guys more but i also am taking requests/thinkin' of new things to write!! more spencer to come, as well as possibly some hotch, so keep an eye out

ily all and tysm for the support <3

[mydear-corinthian]

Dirty Diana || Thomas Shelby x reader

Synopsis: After the war, you and Tommy were separated leaving you in London alone with no money at all. Pairing: Thomas Shelby x reader , Tommy Shelby x reader Warnings: SMUT +18, mentions of prostitution & misogynist, p in v, unprotected sex, dirty talk Notes: I saw this Dirty Diana edit of Tommy Shelby & Diana Mitford so why not do a fic about MJ's song?? I'm so happy that Dirty Diana is getting popular and getting the hype that it deserves !! This fic is terribly written and rushed :c Click here to see the MAIN MASTERLIST Click here to see the PEAKY BLINDERS MASTERLIST Click here to see the CILLIAN MURPHY MASTERLIST

Tommy and you were together before the war. His family happily accepted you and eventually treat you as one.

Unfortunately, you two parted ways following the battle. While you were stuck in London trying to become a banker, he was back in his hometown.

As a woman, landing a career like that hasn't been normalized yet. Often, men claim that it was a "man's job" exclusively. You met all the standards perfectly, but in the end, you were not hired. You were left with nothing as a result. No family, no home, and no money.

That's when you started working as a prostitute, something you never thought you would do. It was your last option since you could no longer survive without money. Given that you were making far more money at the job, you cannot complain about it. Constantly receiving enormous sums of shillings in a single night.

You decided to change your name, Diana.

Every night you wait on the busy streets of London for customers. Bending over their vehicle, seducing them.

It wasn't easy and it will never be easy to be working in this line of work. You've been sleeping with young, old, single, married, or even widowed men for money.

It was the usual night. Waiting for new customers as you stood on the busy streets outside of a hotel. Your black dress perfectly traced your curves, a white shoulder fur covered your elbows.

You finally saw a car stopping in front of you. A man wearing a neat navy suit, a newsboy hat decorated his hair, a cigarette burning between his lips.

Due to his hat, you cannot fully see who he was, only his mouth. You walked seductively towards the man's car, bending over the window. "Sir, I have to go home 'cause I'm so tired you see..?" you ask, pretending to be exhausted. "I hate sleeping alone, why don't you take me?" He took a bill out of his pockets and showed it to you. "My place. The hotel." he plainly said.

Seeing the large amount of bill made your eyes widened. Never in your job had you encountered a man giving you this big amount of money for one night.

"Well, I'll see what I can do with that, sir," he exited the vehicle, walking towards the hotel as you followed him. The anonymous man was walking in front of you so you cannot see his face.

You couldn't shake the thought of Tommy, no matter how many men you slept with. You still have feelings for him. You was hoping he could find you and look for you. Your first love was and is him. He was everything to you. It's not that you two split up; rather, it was more that you stopped seeing one another, no goodbye's or hello's after the war. You believed that his 'breakup' was final. that he had already had enough of your relationship. While a part of you believes he is better off without you, the other half of you longs to visit him in Birmingham. That he's already forgotten you.

The both of you were already inside his luxurious hotel room. It wasn't really that tidy but it was manageable.

The anonymous man finally removed his hat, showing his full face at you. As soon as you saw him, your eyes widened and your heart sank.

"Tommy?" you shockingly asked.

"(Y/n)." he greeted plainly.

"How did you- How did you found me?"

He actually haven't moved on from you too. Tommy tried to marry someone for you to leave his mind but that didn't worked for him as well. He just doesn't feel the same feeling that he was with his current wife than you. He wants to relive that feeling and he is hoping that he will be with you again.

"I searched for you. I searched every spot in Birmingham and you weren't there. And so I found you here. In London," he said. "And I know about your job, Diana."

His deep and sultry voice always gets you. Having the sudden desire to take him, make you his, and just be with him.

"How about you stay with me, tonight?" he asked. 

"Oh Tommy, I'm all yours," you answered. Your lips meeting his, passionately tasting him. Tommy's hands roamed all around your small back, allowing the kiss to get deeper and deeper.

He suddenly stopped, pulling his face away. "My wife is at home tonight, she's probably worried tonight. I haven't told her I'm alright." he sighed, walking up to the telephone on the desk just beside the door. He rolled the numbers before speaking. 

Before he said something again, you heard a woman's voice on the telephone, screaming at him. Tommy's wife was mad.

Suddenly, you grabbed the telephone, hearing the voice of his wife. The speaker was on your ear, "He's not coming back, he's sleeping with me,"

You dropped the telephone harshly, smiling at him. "Are you not worried she'll leave you?" you asked, your fingers tapping his chest seductively. Tommy's lips found yours again. The kiss is turning harshly and messier. "It's alright, she was using me for money anyways," he said in between kisses. "And Polly didn't approved my relationship with her but we got married anyway,"

"God, I've been waiting for you," your hands found its way to his hair, crumpling it as you felt his tongue explore your mouth. You moaned in between kisses, eager for more. 

You pushed him into the king-sized bed's soft mattress. You unbutton your wrinkled shirt while leaving your bra on as you crawl from his legs to his hips. He showed how hard he was by the way his pants were rising. Tommy's breath hitched, his skin heats up.

"Where have you been, my darling?" he breathly asked, cupping your cheeks once again to examine your face, processing what is happening right now. You're back. You're here. 

Slowly, your hips rocked on his boner, the friction making your eyes roll. Tommy swallowed hard, feeling the sensation that's happening. "I've missed you, Tom," 

You continued to stroke the hard swell beneath his pants with a look of enticing eagerness, every stroke a whispered promise of something more. You carefully and slowly removed his belt buckle, the metal clasp giving way to your touch with a gentle click. With careful care, your fingertips traced the fabric of his pants, revealing the shapes of his buried need as you undid each button. Gentle yet focused.

A rush of electricity shot through Tommy as her hands discovered his shaft, igniting every nerve ending with a burning passion. You moved his cock up and down with such delicate strokes; it was a rhythmic dance that left him panting, his chest rising and falling in time with your motions.

"Oh god, you're so good at this," he praised. 

Your touch was like a kiss from heaven; it sent electric sparks of need shooting through him, burning an inferno of desire. His breath caught in his throat with every stroke, the melody of pleasure surrounding him so intensely that he was unable to resist, his moans echoing at the limits of his arousal.

He finally came, his white seed spurted all over the mattress and your hands, staining them You chuckled. 

Suddenly, Tommy switched positions, he's now on top of you. "You think we're done?" he asked, his fingers touched your clit, sending shivers all around your body due to the sudden touch. 

"Oh god!" you moaned. 

His fingertips tracing passionate patterns over the fabric that covered your aching core, your back arched in ecstasy as he increased his speed driven by an early desire. Your body trembled with anticipation with every round move, a burning desire that cried out to be let out. Time appeared to stop still as his touch danced over you in the heat of passion, each movement an ode to the unbearable depths of his desire.

You moaned out loud, feeling your orgasm coming. "Tom - I'm gonna .. oh god!"

His movements stopped unexpectedly, leaving you on the verge of euphoria and desperate for release. A line appeared on your forehead as a wave of opposing emotions passed over you, your need pounding against the limits his seductive pause forced.

"Ah, not yet," his husky voiced rang to your ears.

Tommy removed your underwear, showing how wet you were from him fingering you. He aligned his shaft in front of your cunt before you fully took him, making you moan. 

You felt full just from his cock. His warm cock filled you, making him push in even further. Your eyes closed, your head rolling back. 

"So fucking tight," he exhaled deeply. His rough hands gripped your hips making him pound in to you harshly, hitting your sensitive spots all over and over. 

"No one ever pleasured you this good huh?" 

Sweat was streaming down his strained brow, reflecting the fever that was pumping through his body. The air in his hotel room pumped with the sound of your lewd moans and his sultry groans, echoes swirling passionately together and filling the room with a euphoric atmosphere.

His trusts became faster and harsher. His and your skin slapped together, earning a loud sound. 

You felt your orgasm coming up again making you moan louder, seeing nothing but starts and feel like you've been drugged by the most pleasurable medicine there is out there. You clenched on his cock, indicating that you were close. 

"Tommy, I'm gonna cum," 

"Yeah? Cum then, love," he demanded.

You both reached the your high of ecstasy with a few last, powerful thrusts, your bodies combining in a melody of pleasure. During that moment of explosive release, when your senses were overwhelmed by a rush of sensations, you felt him spill out his essence into you, filling you to the overflowing limit with his ecstatic warmth. Every muscle clenched with fine pleasure as your climax came over you in waves of joy, your combined passion setting off an inferno of desire that swallowed you both completely.

Tommy pulled out before dropping his body beside you, panting hard. 

"Come back to me," he whispered. 

"Oh Tommy. I never left you."

[voltronisanobsession]

Hi hello! I hope your having a good day

This might be a little boring but what about a Percy x reader childhood friends to lovers?

Percy had a fat crush on reader growing up (and never gets over them) but then he was swept away to camp half blood so suddenly so he didn’t have time to say anything to reader, and because of the no cellphone rule at camp reader is like all up in their feels thinking their best friend just left without telling them. So when reader sees Percy at school in the winter they kinda avoid him assuming that he was doing the same, basically they drift apart.

But a year or two later, it turns out reader is also a Demi god just found out later in life maybe a child of Apollo or smt, so they come to camp and they see Percy and suddenly everything is making sense, like why he left on such a short notice why he never contacted them, etc. then Percy and reader just have this little catch up where they realize they still have feelings for each other ,but are maybe too nervous to admit because they don’t wanna ruin their friendship again?

It’s so cliché I know, but I’m such a sucker for the childhood friends to lovers trope.

Percy with a Childhood Friend

Omg this is so CUTE ARGGH!! This is my second time writing this cuz I accidentally deleted everything the first time </3

It’s a little long since I wanted to somewhat incorporate a story🔥 not proofread🔥🔥

Edit: I finished proofreading this and DAMN there were a lot of errors💀💀 do not write when ur about to pass out guys💀

This is literally the cutest idea EVER!!

You guys would totally become friends because of your mutual confusion with school💀 Like you both bond over struggling with school and immediately grow closer

Since he could remember, Percy always had a harder time learning the materials in school and was outcasted for it in a way

So when you sit next to him during recess and start talking to him out of nowhere, he knows you guys are gonna be stuck with each other for a long time

Since you're basically his first friend, in like forever, he can't help the growing feeling he has for you

The way you brightly smile at him when he asks for help on a reading he can’t quite seem to grasp, or the way you patch him up after getting into a fight with one of the bullies

You’re just like the light in his life, you’re warm presence immediately settling his anxiousness

You guys are stuck together like glue and no one can seem to separate you both, something that many have tried to do

Percy believes that nothing can get better than this honeymoon phase in your friendship, swearing that he’s going to confess his small crush on you and everything😭

Until he’s kicked out of school and your family moves away and you begin attending Yancy Academy💀💀

Percy is obviously just as heart broken as you

So for the next few years, Percy faces all these new schools alone and gets kicked out of all them

And when he’s sent to Yancy Academy and finally reunited with you again, he quite literally JUMPS on you

Like this boy is SO HAPPY to see you omg

That spark never left between the two of you and you both make up for lost time

So while school is still the same, getting to see you everyday now is a game changer for Percy

The buried feelings come back full force, your warm and bright smile still making him feel gooey inside after all this time

And you’re just as nervous to him too cuz AHHH!! Childhood crush is back!!

Of course we all know how this ends, Percy is unfortunately kicked out of school again and you’re both heartbroken in the end

Percy leaves mysteriously while you’re wondering where he went

You question Grover on the boys disappearance, the satyr giving you a nervous look while saying Percy didn’t feel quite right attending the school

Which confused and hurt you because Percy had said you made going to this prison worth it

Percy never got to say his goodbyes and is suddenly dragged into the half blood life, continuing his life with danger at every corner

Even after going on all these exciting and dangerous quests, years later Percy will never be able to stop his mind from straying to the one he let get away

He feels regret for the most part and probably thinks you hate him for leaving you so suddenly💀

He often wonders what your doing

Maybe your reading a book from that one author you like

Or maybe you’ve picked up a new hobby. Last time he saw you, you did mention you’ve had this strong urge to learn archery

School starts again and Percy is once again sent to a new school

He’s already anticipating going to camp next year but is immediately caught off guard when he sees you in the distance in one of the school halls

It’s LITERALY like time slows down

His eyes widen when he makes eye contact with you, the light hitting your face in a certain angle that makes you look ethereal

He feels his heart speeding up when your recognize him from the distance

Your face is scrunched up in confusion and then hurt, quickly looking away from him and walking down a different hallway

He’s so happy to see a familar face that he doesn’t even think about how you might be feeling after not seeing him these past few years

Percy looks different. Hes way taller than he was before. His hair is longer and messier, but makes it work. His face is more defined, skin glowing even under the florescent lights

You can’t deny the way your heart skipped a beat at seeing Percy again but everything crumbles down when you remember his unannounced departure from Yancy Academy

‘He could’ve at least told me’ you bitterly think while slamming your locker

Yeah you would avoid him like the plague while school’s in session

Walking in the opposite direction when you see him and avoiding his eyes when he tries to get your attention during class

It isn’t until when a monster interrupts the formal winter dance that you finally speak to him

Percy is trying his best to fight off the monster when it knocks him to the ground with a force that has him hackling for air

That’s when you come to the rescue

“Percy get down!”

“Y/N?!”

With a bow and arrow in hand, you aim for the beast with such precision and confidence, he stares in amazement as you single handily slay the monster with one arrow

He unfortunately has to flee the scene when he hears people barreling down the hallways, anxious to see all the commotion he caused

Yeah he gets to camp early that year💀

And when this guy sees you at camp during the summer, everything suddenly clicks in his head

The way you could see the monster and WERENT affected by the mist

Your scary accurate hit with a bow that seemingly came out of nowhere

And even the way the sun would shine in your favor in random moments

When you see Percy though, your confusion is maxed out. Was this why he left? Why you were never able to get ahold of him?

Yeah things are a little awkward during this time

While you’re put into the Apollo cabin after being claimed and adjusting to camp, Percy finds a hard time to talk to you

He’s SUPER excited knowing you’re a half blood too

He doesn’t have to worry about keeping any secrets from you and can tell you all about his journey throughout the years!!!

But fate seems to pull you and him further apart, bit by bit

He’s forced to hear your contagious laughter from afar during dinner, watching with soft eyes as your siblings surround you, nudging you suggestively when they catch him staring at you

You look over to him and send him a shy smile, in which he would perk up at finally getting your attention :D

After that night, things get a little easier

He’s still dragged away whenever he tries to approach you, but now he isn’t the only one trying to talk

You both wave whenever you see each other

Percy still stares at you whenever a camper tries asking him a question

While you try to walk up to him, he’s magically bombarded by other campers crowding him

He would push past them all to finally get to you after you nod your head to the side, urging him to follow you

“Yeah you know what guys? How about we catch up with this during the campfire! Yeah yeah, totally, see ya!”

He’s jogging up to you as you both walk the shore

“Well aren’t you popular here.” You say with a sly smile

“Oh yeah, I’m kinda known around camp. I’ve had a few uh, memorable, moments.” This dude is blushing like crazy cuz FINALLY! He’s finally alone with you!

After settling everything between you two, once again you’re stuck together

Training together despite your different weapons, doing activities together is a new norm

Except things are different this time

Percy isn’t the shy boy he was when he was young

He’s more confident and wants to make his intentions know to you

While he shows you how to use his sword during training, you guys already know he’s placing his hands over yours to show you the ‘correct placement’

So sly teehee

During the art and craft activities , he’s suggesting you guys to make a matching bracelet

His smooth flirting isn’t missed by you and you’re literally having a HEARTATTACK

You aren’t used to Percy being so bold, buts it’s honestly such a nice change of pace

He would definitely confess his feelings after dinner near the shore

And despite his suave attitude the past weeks, he’s so clumsy when he reveals his feelings for you

“So um, I like y- wait. Ok ok, sorry. What I wanted to say is that like, I like you. A lot actually. For a while. And you know it’s completely fine if you don’t, but I hope you like me the same because this would be really embarrassing for me-“

“Percy! It’s ok um! I like you too. A lot.”

It’s SUPER CHEESY BUT LIKE

COME ON

HES GIVING YOU PUPPY DOG EYES WHEN YOU SAY THAT AND UGH

He’s would totally lift you up and spin you around because he’s so HAPPY

Bro finally got his crush😭😭

He’s so sweet to you like bro

Always hyping you up during mock battles, cheering you on during camp games even if you’re aren’t on the same team

You already know he’s willing to lay down his life for you😭

And you wouldn’t hesitate to do the same even if he begs you not to say that (he doesn’t want to even think of the thought of you leaving him)

He’s an extremely affectionate person, pda is his middle name

If you aren’t that comfortable with pda though, he’ll settle with just holding your hand. He’ll just cuddle you later in private😻🔥🔥

But of course you guys are still best friends so you both would still clown the other if one of you does something stupid

He would love it if you play with his hair

He would be sitting in front of you during the campfire while you’re on a log seat when you brush some hair away from his face.

You rub his head a bit and Percy would lean his head into your hands.

When you’re done you pull away only for your boyfriend to bring your hands back to his hair, silently asking you to continue (UGHHHH MY HEART)

Sally loves you and is supportive of you guys (your number one supporter)

She invites you to have dinner with them and how could you refuse😩

Percy is so down bad for you and always brags about how long you both have known each other and how close you are

Like no one cares but he’ll just keep and talking about you to anyone around

Sometimes when you bunk in his cabin for a night or two, he likes talking about the past and how far you’ve both come

It’s during these nights where he’ll get emotional, maybe cry because he’s so grateful he has you in his life

You would kiss his tears away (SCREAMING)

Overall, childhood friends to lovers works out PERFECTLY with Percy. He values your friendship as much as he values your relationship

He knows you better than anyone in your life, has seen different versions of yourself and has always stuck by your side, through thick and thin💔

[ahgasegotarmy116]

The Art of Etiquette Part 9 | Jeon Jungkook

Summary: Your call with Jesse is dramatic on his part to say the least but looks like there's a new guy in town and he's got his sights set on you. Pairing: f!reader x Etiquette instructor Jungkook Word Count: 2.2k~ Warnings: Explicit and suggestive language but barely lmao a/n: Sorry this one is a little shorter guys but I figured this was a good stopping point so I hope you enjoy it 🥰 p.s. barely edited as always lol Start from the beginning

"Hello?" I say, my voice ridden with exhaustion since I was woken up out of a sound sleep from my phone ringing on full blast. 

"Hello? That's all you have to say to me? Girl I've been texting you since last night and you never responded" Jesse scolds through the phone and when I look at my messages I have over 50 from him alone. 

"I'm sorry Jess I was busy with Jungkook all day yesterday and I just ended up taking a shower and going to sleep. I guess I forgot to tell you how it went" I apologize, rubbing the sleep from my eye.

"Tell me everything I don't care if you're all over the place I just need to live vicariously through you" he says, his excitement palpable even though the phone.

"Well we went to the modiste and found my dress an-" "No no I don't care about the boring stuff. Tell me about what happened between you and Jungkook. Did you guys share glances? Did he touch you? Did he hold your hand? You know the juicy stuff. Well, I guess as juicy as you could get with an etiquette teacher" he spouts off, trying to keep me on track.

"I thought you said you wanted to live vicariously through me? So I was taking you through my day step by step" I say, smiling at his impatience.

"I meant the good stuff" he groans and I laugh at his playful frustration before having mercy on him and telling him everything.

"I found out that we like the same music and like similar foods and that he really is a nice guy. Under all of that commanding and strict nature he truly is a great guy" I admit, morning thoughts now full of him giving me a fuzzy feeling in my chest.

"You're falling for him aren't you?" Jesse asks, amused once he hears how I've changed my tune so quickly from one day to the next.

"I wouldn't say I'm falling for him but there are some, stirrings" I say, confused and still half asleep, not being able to fully express my emotions properly. 

"Stirrings?" Jesse laughs, knowing what I'm meaning to say without actually having to say it but still pushing me to say more.

"Yes stirrings and let's leave it at that for now" I say, sitting up and stretching before getting out of bed. 

"Whatever you say" he sings leaving me rolling my eyes as I walk to the bathroom and start to pull out the various things I need to get ready.

"He also kinda sorta kissed me" I mumble and immediately pull my phone away from my ear, knowing how loud he's going to get about me hiding this from him for so long. 

"HE KISSED YOU? LIKE FOR REAL THIS TIME?" he asks, repeating his reaction from last time but needing to clarify right away since things have been interesting between us to say the least. 

"Well it wasn't full on but it was more than last time" I smirk, knowing that Jesse's way more excited about this than I am.

"What's that supposed to mean" he asks quickly, dying to know since this is probably the most important piece of the puzzle he had been waiting for.

"Well I walked him out to his car after he dropped me off to say goodbye, and well he..."

"Y/n I swear if you don't just spit it out I'm going to come over there and strangle it out of you" he growls and I laugh, always loving the feeling of torturing him. 

"Alright, alright. So when I walked him out he said goodnight to me but when he said it, he said it against my lips. Like he brushed his lips against mine and just left me there and drove off like nothing happened" I say and the silence on the other side of the phone worries me. 

"Jesse?" I ask and then I hear what sounds like him punching his pillow or something. "Jesse are you alright?" I laugh and soon he takes in a deep breath and yells out

"HOW DOES IT FEEL TO BE LIVING MY DREAM?!?!?!" and I bust out laughing while he scolds me on the other end of the phone. 

"What are you doing?!?!?! You're literally wasting precious time that you could be using to let him fuck your brains out all because he just likes playing games with you. He wants you so bad so just go for it! If not for your own sake then for mine" he whines and I just continue to laugh, trying not to take him seriously because if I do I don't know if I'll be able to act like I don't want him too. 

"When's the ball?" Jesse asks after I had been tuning him out for a second or two. "Next Saturday" I answer and he hums, thinking about if he can squeeze me in for something or other.

"Why?" I ask, his silence peaking my interest. 

"Well I wanted to see if you'd let me come and help you get ready for the ball? You know, hair, makeup, nails the whole nine yards" he says and I groan thinking about all of that stuff thrown together in one day. 

"My guess is that my mom is gonna either have someone come over to get me ready or that she'll send me to some sort of shop. If you want you could come with? Maybe get a manicure too while we're at it?" I offer and I can just tell how excited he is about it already.

"Yes yes a thousand times yes! I swear every time I've asked you to do anything that is remotely girly you've always said no so there's no way I'm passing up on this one!" he says and I can't help but smile.

"Well I'm glad that I'll have someone by my side to help me endure this torture" I groan and he brushes me off, my claims sounding absolutely ridiculous to him. 

"Anyways I've gotta get ready for class so I'll see you then, alright?" I say, checking the clock, thankfully seeing that I have more than enough time to do so.

"Alright well hurry up so we can grab some coffee or something beforehand because I'm exhausted" I scoff at his words, since he was the one that woke me up two hours before my alarm was supposed to go off. 

"Why the hell would you be tired? You're the one that woke me up!" and he scoffs right back at me.

"I was getting impatient alright! And rightfully so! How could you not tell me he kissed you?" he whines and I know this is my cue to wrap up the call. 

"He didn't kiss me alright. If he does you'll be the first to know, I promise. Unless someone sees of course" I say and he sighs dramatically, impatient with how slowly this whole thing is playing out. 

"Yeah yeah whatever, I'll see you soon. Should I just grab you something and meet you at our table?" he asks and I hum before responding. "Please and thank you" I say, dragging out the last word and soon ending the call.

Classes go off without a hitch with Jesse bugging me every other second about Jungkook so I guess it was a pretty normal day to say the least.

"Tell me if anything happens at your lessons today, alright? No more late updates! I'm honestly still mad at you" he groans before picking up his stuff to go. 

"Yeah yeah whatever. See you later loser" I say, rolling my eyes and he rolls his right back at me even more dramatically.

"Bye bitch" he says over his shoulder, giving me one last wave before walking to his last class while I make my way to mine. 

Walking into class I'm greeted by the murmurings of almost all the girls in class all aimed at one guy in particular that I'd never seen before.

Granted I don't really pay attention to anyone in this class besides the professor anyways but seeing that there's a big enough reaction, my interest can't help but be peaked. 

As I make my way over to my usual spot in the lecture hall I begin to notice that he's sat right across the aisle from me.

I try to keep to myself and quietly go to my seat and pray he doesn't notice me because the last thing I need is a some guy trying to distract me in class. 

Don't get me wrong I'm not saying that I don't like helping people but, no actually I guess I really don't like helping people now that I think about it.

That's besides the point though.

All I need to worry about is getting through this lecture and getting out of here so I can make it to my lessons on time with Jungkook. 

As the professor finally makes his way into the classroom and starts to set up I hear someone trying to get my attention. 

"Psst" I hear and know exactly who it is, making me cringe but deciding to acknowledge him nonetheless.

I look up at him and realize why those girls had been whispering about him since he, putting it as plainly as I can, is a very attractive human being. 

"What?" I respond and he grants me a smile that would make any other girl swoon, I however am not that girl. 

"Do you have a pencil I could borrow?" he asks, giving me the lamest excuse in the book to get a girl's attention.

I summon all the strength I have in my body to resist rolling my eyes and decide to just reach into my bag and grab him one, hoping to be done with this conversation as soon as possible so I can focus on the lecture. 

I hand him the pencil and feel him purposefully brush his hand against mine and I pull my hand back, making him drop it and gaining the attention of the professor. 

"Is there a problem Mr. Foster?" the professor says to the freeloader next to me.

"No sir, no problem at all" he says smoothly, trying to charm is way out of the scolding.

"See that there isn't" the professor says, raising an eyebrow at him while the boy apologizes making the lecture resume after that. 

~~~~

"Hey" the guy calls out after me as I make my way out of the classroom. I stop and look at him, only planning on giving him seconds to say his piece before leaving, knowing that I'll get an earful from Jungkook if I'm late again.

I raise a brow at him as he smiles down at me and doesn't make moves to say anything first. 

"Can I help you?" I say, finally breaking the ice and wanting to get to the point.

"Actually you already did. I just wanted to give you your pencil back" he says holding it out to me with a bright smile.

"Keep it" I say and turn my back to go and unfortunately he follows after me.

"What's your name?" he asks after squeezing through the students in the halls so he can walk next to me. "None of your business" I grumble and try to walk faster but he follows all the same. 

"That's a curious name" he chuckles, refusing to take the hint to the fact that I don't want to talk to him.

"Can't you just leave me alone?" I question, stopping in my tracks, trying my hand at this method rather than just trying to outrun him which seems futile at this point based off of how long his legs are compared to mine. 

"I just wanted to thank my savior since I would've fallen even further behind in class if I wasn't able to take any notes today" he says and I cross my arms, knowing for a fact that half the time he was just looking at me since I could feel his eyes on me every time he looked my way.

"The best way to thank me is to leave me alone. I've got things to do and I don't have time to waste on you Foster" I say, using his last name since that's all I know so far.

"It's Daniel" he chuckles at my effort to push him off (figuratively of course, thankfully he has manners enough to maintain personal space).

"I prefer Foster" I say sarcastically and he laughs as if I've said the funniest thing in the world.

"Foster it is then" he agrees and I groan, walking off to my car and luckily this time he doesn't follow me, watching me from where we had been standing until I'm out of his sight. 

'Just when I thought my day was going well I've some how created a tail. Why me? Why not all the other girls in class that were obviously fawning all over him?'

I shake my head and open my car door, slumping down into it and take a deep breath before putting on my seatbelt and putting my keys in the ignition. 

Hopefully I'll be able to get rid of this sour mood by the time I see Jungkook otherwise our lessons aren't gonna be the prettiest today and we don't have time for anything but pretty.

Time is running out and I need to remain focused if I want to do this and do it right. 

I want to leave a good impression on everyone for James' sake, but more than anything I want to make Jungkook proud of me...   

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[yuespropagandablog]

Hello esteemed mutual. If you are reading this, then that means my propaganda is working. But you might still have questions, so I am here to answer them. Well. Actually. My propaganda already worked without the help of Captain America, but I also like writing these posts and SOME OF Y'ALL haven't bought it yet after I posted a lot so here I am after all.

What is Spiritfarer?

Spiritfarer is a management game by Thunder Lotus Games about death. Yup, death. I have... an interesting history with this game, that you can ask me about later, but I read multiple times that it's a great game to deal with grief and yes, it is. Also, apparently it's been renamed to Spiritfarer: Farewell Edition, but that basically means that the game is complete. After release, there were some major free content updates. Now that the game's been finished, I might replay it as the full package.

You play as Stella, who upon her death, arrives in an afterlife of sorts and takes over from Charon (yes, that Charon) to become the Spiritfarer. In life, Stella was a palliative care nurse in charge of helping increase the quality of life of patients with a serious illness, who stayed with these patients till the end in order to ease their pain. That's why she is fitting for this role. Stella inherits Charon's boat and sails around, picking up spirits of deceased people who haven't really moved on 'to the great beyond' just yet. Stella houses them on her boat, makes them feel comfortable, helps them with unfinished business, and eventually lets them go.

Yup. You need to let them go.

Anyway, have a trailer:

What's so great about it?

Personally, I think this game excels at the combination between story and gameplay. As in, I am usually fine if a game prioritises one over the other (like Tears of the Kingdom's gameplay is better than its story, and Night in the Woods's story is better than its gameplay), but this game is just right. It's a management sim, so you need to care for these spirits, update your boat for more rooms with activities to do, collect resources, farm, cook etc. Your management influences the mood of your spirits, which in turn impacts the game.

Once you're off your boat, there's some platforming and 2D exploration. There are also special events for certain kinds of items that lead to a special mini-game.

It would've been a cosy and relaxing game if it weren't, you know, about death. I mean, it's still relaxing and chill. It's really nice to play. The impending goodbyes just loom over you.

And aside from satisfying gameplay, the story is just amazing. The amount of characters that Stella meets is great and everyone has their own story. It's a game about death, as I said before, and it shows how death can occur in different ways. Prepare to weep. A big part of this game is about saying goodbye. The game simulates a grieving process. You may foolishly believe that it's just a game, and you control it, and you may hold on to some spirits, but in order to progress, you need to let them go. Oof.

The story is well-done in a way that it surprised me, but looking back on them, all those surprises were predictable. Those kinds of stories are the greatest. It still makes you feel something, but it wasn't a left field either. It's just good shit.

Where can I play this?

Thank you Wikipedia for listing it: Linux, macOS, Windows, Switch, PS4, Xbox One, Stadia, iOS and Android. I think the mobile port is done through Netflix Games. I played it on Switch.

Can we play together?

There is local co-op. Stella is joined by her cat Daffodil, even in the soloplayer mode. But in multiplayer, the second player controls Daffodil. I have never played it in co-op, and Daffodil cannot do everything that Stella can do. I think he's like a better Cappy. But again, I have no experience with it myself.

Are there content warnings?

It's about death, and as I said, it's about different ways death can occur. Death isn't always natural. In fact, people unfortunately die from illness, unnatural causes, or from self-inflicted harm. And not everyone reaches old age. Also, you delve into the lives of the spirits, and not everyone had a rosy life. Topics like abandonment issues and unhealthy relationships are part of the story.

Is there DLC?

Nope. That's because the content updates were free. I do have, you know, things to say about content updates in general, but I have more to say about paid DLC so I respect the hell out of Thunder Lotus for not charing extra money for it.

Are there German characters in Spiritfarer?

GUSTAV IS GERMAN, BABY!!!!

[bambisafe]

ashley graham / gender neutral!reader

cw : reader is not a morning person, reader's occupation is up to the reader, reader and ashley go on a picnic.

word count : around 500

author's note : i saw the cutest edit of her last night and had to write a little something for my bisexual princess.

ashley didn't have classes for the next, not two but three days. and how would she spend it? with you, of course.

the early afternoon of friday came and ashley’s name shone across your tiny phone screen, your ringtone blaring in the quiet of your bedroom.

scrubbing a hand down your face, you answered, voice sleep-laden. “hello?”

“hey!” ashley sounded too bright for ten a.m.

you groan, flopping back on your pillow groggily. “what's up?”

“what's up? i’m taking you on a date, silly.” her voice beams through the phone with radiance that rivals the sun.

with your mind shrouded in sleep-induced fog, the cogs began to turn, and slowly at that.

“did we plan this?”

“nope!”

ah, right. impromptu date. how so very ashley of her. you could practically hear the smile from her end of the line.

she was lucky she was so cute, otherwise you wouldn't get up this early on a weekend for anyone else.

“alright,” you sigh, swinging your legs over the side of the bed, feet touching the floor. “gimme a sec to get ready. i’ll call you.”

the phone call ends after brief goodbyes are bade, and with that, you dress yourself. casually, comfortably, before grabbing your essentials — keys, phone, wallet.

you double check, making sure you have everything before dialing up your girlfriend again as you slip your feet into a pair of shoes.

“so, where we meeting?”

—

within twenty minutes, you meet ashley at a park, which was desolate on a friday morning.

you and ashley sat on a plaid blanket under a tree that's begun to bloom the first leaves of spring, a wicker basket, silverware, and plates laid out between the two of you.

ashley came from a wealthy background, she grew up with housekeepers— a foreign concept to you —and they had prepared a simple italian meal for your’s and ashley’s picnic.

the food was still warm, steaming, in fact, as the sweet blonde assembled chicken alfredo and two buttered rolls on what looked to be fine china. fancy.

“that's not all,” ashley held up a finger, brows raised to the point of nearly touching her hairline. god, she was cute. you couldn't help but let yourself smile (just a tad) at her.

she brandishes a thermos, unscrewing the large cap and letting you peer inside.

“it's just tea,” she shrugs, her tone a touch lighter than before. “i figured it was too early to whip out the champagne.” ashley chuckles awkwardly, free hand laying out flat, palm facing the sky.

you snicker, shaking your head fondly. “tea’s perfect,” you assure, reaching out to pat her stocking-clad knee.

her spark seems to return, nose twitching like a rabbit’s. “i thought so too,”

she pours the warm drink into two floral teacups, handing one over to you, which you take with a whispered, thanks.

“so…” ashley’s eyes seem to flick between your meal and you, a glimmer of hope in her green optics. “did i do good?”

did she do good— please, she did perfect.

you nod, expression tender. “of course,”

unable to help it, you lean over, dropping a kiss to her cheek and when you pull back, you take quick notice of her blushing.

“thanks, babe,” she giggles girlishly, tucking a few blonde tresses behind her ear before plucking up the fork next to her plate. “shall we dig in?”

consider reblogging if you enjoyed, it helps out writers a ton !

[saiilorstars]

Ch. 29: Fragile Lines

Fandom: Harry Potter (Hogwarts years 1-7) Pairing: Draco x OFC

taglist:@ocappreciationtag @arrthurpendragon @anotherunreadblog @maaaaarveeeeel @stareyedplanet @foxesandmagic @kmc1989

​​​​Story Masterlist // Romina’s Masterlist

Fanfic • Ao3 • Wattpad

If you’d like to be a part of this OC’s work/edits, let me know!

The weeks after the big game, things dwindled down for the Slytherins. Gryffindor was over the moon with its win and naturally it took some weeks to come down from it. The fact that exams were coming help with that. Most of the time, the third years found themselves either in the common rooms or the library to study.

Romina and Hermione got together one afternoon to go over their notes for their shared classes. Everything seemed to be piling on each day and it only got worse when they had their schedules finally planned out.

The only reason Romina paused her studying was because she got a glimpse of what Hermione's schedule looked like. "Now wait a minute," Romina waved a hand in front of the brunette girl, "If this is right, how the heck are you taking two exams at the same time?"

Hermione's eyebrows raised with only slight interest in the question. She had a mounting pile of books on her side that she needed to get through. "I just am, don't worry about it," she answered in a fast pace tone. "Do you have the Muggle Studies study guide you made?"

"Yeah, but...Hermione, how are you doing all this?" It felt like an age old question at this point in the year. As much as Romina badgered Hermione about it, the latter never gave her a straightforward answer. "I mean, you're super smart but this is beyond you."

Hermione tapped her fingers along the table, her impatience marking her forehead with a crease. "Romina, the study guide, please?"

With a sigh, Romina handed the papers over to her. "Well, I guess good luck is in order. I'm a little worried over my potions' grade."

"Why? You're pretty good at them," Hermione said distractedly while she skimmed through the guide.

"Decent, I suppose," Romina shrugged. "But there's always an ingredient I forget." She hated to admit that Draco always helped her out in the class. As good as she thought she was at potions, he was exceedingly better at it.

"You'll get it, Romina, you always do." Hermione sounded like she was reciting more than having an actual conversation. Romina didn't blame her, she was too focused on the guide to concentrate on anything else.

She decided to leave a little early to give Hermione plenty of solo time for her studying. She grabbed her things and stuffed them into her book bag. "See you later," she told Hermione. She doubted that the brunette even heard her. She headed back for the common room to get a start on the Transfiguration studying.

"Oh hey Romina," she heard Pansy's drawling call in the hallway. She and Millicent were sitting together on a bench with a book between them.

"Hello and goodbye, Pansy," Romina said, making a beeline for the common room now.

"Wait! Don't you want to see the album we're looking at?"

Romina paused right in front of the steps. She looked back at Pansy with a deep scowl. "Now why the hell would I want to do that?"

"Because you're in it," Pansy said and Millicent giggled beside her.

"What?"

"Well, I guess it's not technically you but she looks a hell a lot like you," Pansy said, turning the album over for Romina to see.

Of course, being too far had Romina coming back to get a better look. Her heart nearly stopped at the sight of her mother's moving picture. "Where the hell did you get this from?"

"I have my ways," Pansy said all too proudly. "It's an old Hogwarts yearbook. Did you know that your mother was an outstanding student at getting into trouble?"

Romina bit the inside of her cheek. The picture she was lucky to see had her mother smirking maliciously at the camera. God, she hated the woman.

"And then your father…" Pansy started flipping through the pages to no doubt pull a photograph of Caplan too.

"Stop it!" Romina snatched the album altogether.

"Hey! Give that back!" Pansy was quick to jump off the couch.

"Why are you so hung up on my parents, Parkinson!?"

Pansy had a good laugh before she responded. "That's rich coming from you! Look at what you've done to your hair, for God's sake! And for what? Because you look like Mummy!" She snatched the album back and chucked it to Millicent. She ignored the gruff noise Milicent gave as she stalked up to Romina. "And guess what, Oswell? No matter what the hell you do to your hair, to your face, you will always look like your mother!" Pansy's voice started increasing in volume. "A death eater."

Romina swallowed hard as students began to stop in their tracks to witness the scene. All eyes were on her again.

"It doesn't matter where you go because everyone will always know who you are and what your parents happily did!" Pansy laughed. "And you really think adding some stupid highlights or cutting your hair is going to make that disappear?"

Romina stepped back from Pansy. She could feel her face burning with embarrassment and shame. Was she imagining the whispers or were those real? It felt like it was getting louder and louder...

Pansy was more than satisfied with the scene. She laughed triumphantly. "At this point, may I suggest Polyjuice for your troubles?"

Romina looked around and swore that the crowd was multiplying. Tears filled her eyes. Her hand came up to her hair to grip.

She dashed away before anyone said anything to her. She heard the gruff of the first years she pushed through but she didn't dare look back to apologize. By the time she reached the common room, she was in full fledged tears.

Arden, who was studying at one of the round tables, looked up to see Romina running inside. "Romina? What's the matter?"

Romina didn't answer. She didn't even look in Arden's direction as she ran into the hallways. Arden had no choice but to leave her things to chase after Romina.

Romina ran straight into their room, her head flipping in every direction as if she was searching for something. She went under her bed to pull out a box. Her hands ransacked it all until she found what she was looking for: a pair of scissors.

When Arden finally caught up with her in the room, Romina was already standing in front of Daphne's long view mirror getting a fistful of her hair to chop off. "WOAH!" Arden had never run and jumped over beds so fast. She only just made it in time to snatch the scissors from Romina, a dangerous act alone. "ARE YOU MAD!?"

"Give them back!" Romina exclaimed, hand stretched out to take the scissors.

Arden took a few wild steps back. "NO!"

Tears were streaming down Romina's face as she grew more desperate. "Arden, please! I need them!"

"For what!? To chop everything off again!?"

"YES!"

"Why!?"

"Because I look just like her! No matter what I do, I still look like Elora!" Romina finally burst into fresh tears. She turned back to the mirror and gripped her hair. "No matter what I do, it doesn't change anything! I'll always be their daughter! Pansy's right! Everyone will always know who I am and what my parents did!"

Parkinson. Arden knew the girl was behind all this. She took a heavy breath in before the wretched name slipped out of her with a curse. "Romina…"

The girl in question was a distraught mess. She had crumpled to the ground and buried her head over her knees.

Arden had never seen Romina in such a state. She hurried to leave the scissors in her own area, not wanting to leave them out in the open for Romina to use in another state of rampage. She then came back to Romina's side on the floor. "C'mon Romina, you can't let Parkinson get to you like this."

"It's not just her!" Romina sniffled. "Every time something bad happens in the school, especially if it has something to do with Sirius Black, everyone thinks I helped him somehow. Some people still think I'm the one who gave him the bloody passwords to get into the Gryffindors' tower!"

Arden looked away with pity. Yeah, she heard those rumors too and from people she never even thought would believe in that nonsense. "Okay, okay, things could be better but in order to be better, you have to get up."

"What's the point, Arden?" Romina shrugged her shoulders. "I'm an Oswell. No one's ever going to look past that."

"What are you talking about? People already have. Not everyone, yeah, but many of them. There's the Paes twins, Daphne, the Weasleys, Harry! Luna Lovegood never even cared! There's Rolf too! Hell, even Draco didn't care! There's so many of us who could give a crap about a last name. Don't let Parkinson get to you because that's exactly what she wants. She can't stand that you've bested her so many times. This is petty retribution for what you did to her during Potions!"

Romina knew that was true. She always knew that Pansy would get back at her eventually. It was just hard moving past it.

"Romina, you can't keep messing with your hair like this," Arden said. She made herself more comfortable on the ground beside Romina. "You are who you are, whether your hair is short or long or red or even pink but it does not mean that you're like your parents."

"I hear you, I do, but knowing what's happening with Black...it's messing me up even more! I wish they just caught him already."

"They will eventually," Arden said with no doubt in her mind. "Nobody escapes the Dementors."

"I don't know what to do right now, though," Romina said with a long sigh. The tears were slowing down which was a good sign at least. She swallowed hard and wiped away some of the tears on her cheeks. "Pansy just made a fool out of me again in front of everyone. They'll be talking about this for weeks—until the end of the year!"

"So what?" Arden challenged. "Who bloody cares if they're talking about you?"

"I do!"

"These people love gossip but once something new comes by, they're going to forget about you."

"That's all I want," Romina said. She just wanted to disappear in the dark corners where nobody paid her any attention.

"Please, let's study together," Arden said. "We'll figure out a way to get Parkinson back."

"No," Romina shook her head. "I don't...I don't want to keep this game going. I just want her to leave me alone now. I'm afraid of what she could do next time."

"Oh no, you are not going to be afraid of Parkinson!" Arden snorted. "There is nothing to be afraid of from that girl! And once you start feeling better, you'll see that too. Right now your head is all wonky from the tears. Give it a day or so."

Romina half-smiled. This wouldn't be the first time she had to come back from one of Pansy's tricks. "Okay, let's go study."

Arden beamed. "That's my best friend!" She threw her arms around Romina for a side hug. Eventually, she managed to pull a smile out of Romina too.

~ 0 ~

Transfiguration was up first in the long list of exams. Romina thought it was a fairly easy exam with the only slightly more difficult assignment being the last one where they had to turn a teapot into a tortoise. That could've gone a little better for some students. Charms was right after and it went pretty well too. Romina was most confident in her Care of Magical Creatures class both out of Rolf's helpful tips beforehand and the fact that Hagrid had given them all such an easy assignment.

Romina spent that entire week with her nose in her books. She had no desire to see nor talk to Pansy, much less if it was to get a glimpse of the triumphant smirk that had been glued to her face ever since the incident in the hallway. Romina didn't feel confident enough to uphold any type of conversation with her. By now, the entire House had learned what transpired and while some of them kept their comments to themselves, others were bold enough to side with Pansy (whether they knew her or not) or ask Romina questions about her parents. At times, Romina felt like throwing whatever book she had in her hands at the nosy students.

Muggle Studies was a breeze in the exams. Whatever Romina didn't know, she put faith in her common knowledge of the life she'd lived for the past 13 years. Herbology was only a pain because of the heat and Astronomy was, as usual, a mysterious delight. History of Magic, as boring as it was, wasn't very challenging either. The last exam she took was Potions and, surprisingly, Romina found herself constructing the assignment fairly well. She might have to admit to Draco that she owed him...maybe. She didn't want to risk inflating his ego.

It was Buckbeak's execution day that put a damper in Romina's mood. She met Harry, Hermione and Ron on that unfortunate afternoon to go down to talk to Hagrid.

Hermione was furious, to say the least. She stormed down the courtyard, leading the group towards the hills. "How can they do this? How can they be okay with killing Buckbeak like this? It wasn't his fault!"

"I'm sorry, I tried talking to Draco but he suddenly had no ears to listen with," Romina said with a roll of her eyes. He was the definition of selective hearing.

"We know you tried, Rom," Harry said with a comforting pat on her shoulder.

"We should just go see Hagrid," Ron said. There was really nothing else they could do at this point.

"Hey Romina!"

Romina, along with the trio, looked back to see Cedric Diggory coming towards them. "You got a moment?" he asked Romina. "It's about the Transfiguration tutoring you're doing for my friend Heidi?"

"Uh, yeah, yeah, of course." Romina leaned closer to the others to whisper for them to get a head start for Hagrid's hut. "I'll catch up soon, promise."

The trio nodded and left in a hasty stride. They literally had no time to waste.

"So, what do you need, Cedric?" Romina asked the older boy. "I didn't know Heidi was your friend. She's a bit on the, uh, younger side…" Heidi was a timid first year she was tutoring and now that Romina remembered, Heidi had mentioned in one of their sessions that she had made friends with a cute older boy in Hufflepuff.

Cedric smiled, and Romina thought it was absolutely charming. "She got lost in a hallway once and I sort of showed her around. She seemed very frightened."

"At Hogwarts as a first year? Oh yeah," Romina nodded. First year was a terrible year if anyone asked her.

"Anyways, after that, I sort of just check up on her every once in a while," Cedric said. "She's been a little nervous about her upcoming exam in Transfiguration and I've talked to her a bunch of times. I know she's gotten a lot better since you started tutoring her."

Romina smiled softly. "She's definitely improved. I think she can pass the exam no problem."

"I think so too," Cedric nodded, "But if you wouldn't mind, I don't know, talking to her before her exam tomorrow? I feel like she might listen to you more than me."

"Of course," Romina assured him. "I'll go talk to her tomorrow morning. Give her a pep talk, you know?"

"Thanks Romina, seriously. You're the best!"

Romina's lips pursed together in an awkward smile. "Really? You think so?"

Cedric guessed where her doubt was coming from. He had heard plenty of things about her over the year and even more recently. "Of course. What people say...it doesn't matter, honestly."

Romina's expression softened with his words. It shouldn't matter, she told herself. That's what Arden said, that's what Harry said, that's what everyone she cared about said. Maybe she should start to actually listen.

She thanked Cedric for his kind words and started for Hagrid's hut. Harry, Ron and Hermione were probably already in and so should she. She was so focused on getting to the hut as quickly as possible that she could've never expected to crash into someone just as soon as she stepped onto the sloping field.

"Argh! Watch it you — Oswell!"

Romina rubbed her forehead as she took a step back. "Please, Draco, don't sound so sorry about it."

"I'm not!" He didn't hesitate to clarify. He sounded extra cranky for some reason and when Romina finally dropped her hand from her forehead, she saw why.

Her eyes widened at the pool of blood under his nose. "What the hell happened to you?"

"It's your mudblood of a friend—Granger!"

"Hey! Watch it!" Romina pointed a finger at him. She looked past him to Crabbe and Goyle with the same warning eyes in case they had a thing to say about it. "Bet if Theodore or Blaise were here, you wouldn't have been so stupid."

Selective hearing was happening again because Draco didn't even acknowledge her words. "Look at what she did to me!? She broke my nose!"

"Well, what did you do?" Romina crossed her arms.

The amusing manner in which she asked and the fact that she had even asked in the first place infuriated Draco. "She broke my nose, Oswell!" He yelled incredulously. "I swear I'm going to get her back for this!"

Romina silently listened to him rage about the hell he would unleash on Hermione. She stepped closer to him but in his rage, he didn't notice.

"And if any of you three breathe a word about this to anyone, I'll—"

Romina's hands seized his nose and pushed it back into place. CRACK!

Draco's scream could've echoed through the school, and maybe it had. "What the hell!?" Romina blinked calmly under his murderous glare. "What did you—"

"I fixed your nose," she said flatly.

"What!?" His hands flew to his nose. "How did you know how to do that?"

"It is amazing what you learn in a muggle school's aftercare." A smile tugged at Romina's lips. "There really should be more supervision but then I guess I would've never learned how to do that." She pointed at his now healed nose. "Fair notice that it will be sore for the next couple of days."

"What? Just like that?"

Romina rolled her eyes and yanked his hands from his nose. "Let me see," she swatted his hands as he tried to touch his nose again.

"See what? I thought you 'fixed' it," he said with too much sarcasm in his tone.

Romina tutted. "Not the way to talk to someone who just did you a favor. Move your hands, dammit!"

With a huff, Draco did as told. Romina gently touched both sides of his nose. She pressed ever so lightly, like a feather's weight, and asked him if he felt any pain.

"Not really," he lied for some reason. He did feel the echoes of the sharp pain he first felt when Hermione's fist collided with his nose, but Romina was looking up at him with big dark eyes waiting to find out if her trick really helped him or not. She was very close to him and for the first time, he could smell a faint scent of...what, roses? It was nice. She still wore the headband he gave her. She never really took it off, did she? He tried ignoring the strange feeling in his stomach when he wondered if she really liked the headband that much to never let go of it.

A snap of Romina's fingers brought Draco out of his thoughts. The snap hadn't been for him but instead for Crabbe behind him.

"Napkin," Romina had instructed, or rather ordered, so swiftly. Taking command looked very good on her.

Crabbe and Goyle fumbled between each other to produce what she had asked for. In the end, they handed her a handkerchief that she crumpled into a ball to tuck underneath Draco's nose.

"Just wash your face," she told him with a small smile. "And I look forward to hearing what, oh what, you said to finally make Hermione snap."

It was easy for Draco to slip back into his usual self. He rolled his eyes and stepped away from her, though he did take hold of the balled up napkin under his nose. "I'm going to get her back," he warned her.

"No you're not because then I'll break your nose this time," she promptly said back. She flashed him a smile and moved around him.

"Where are you going, Oswell?" Draco turned after her. "It's almost dark."

"Don't worry about me so much," Romina put a hand over her chest. She laughed when he rolled his eyes. She then turned towards Hagrid's hut to catch up. She'd spent a little bit more time up here than she wanted to.

She sprinted down the field only to catch sight of Dumbledore, Fudge, and the damn executioner were already on their way inside the hut.

"Aw dammit!" She stomped her foot. She quickly looked around for her friends and caught a break when she saw the trio sneaking their way towards the forest. She scurried through the outskirts of the garden to sneak up on them from behind. "What's happened!?"

"What does it look like? They're here!" Ron exclaimed and was promptly shushed by Harry and Hermione.

"What took you so long?" Harry asked Romina as they made space for her between them.

"Umm...Cedric," Romina supplied the lie a bit slow on her part. "He, um, he was concerned about the girl that I tutor. Apparently, they're friends." She made a show of focusing entirely on the happenings in the hut ahead of them. She had a feeling that Harry would not like to know that she fixed Draco's broken nose that he no doubt deserved to have broken.

The group eventually had to sneak back up the field before the adults came out of the hut. They stopped right where they'd been earlier to look below. The executioner had already come through the pumpkin patch where Buckbeak awaited and with one swing of his ax, the job was done.

Hermione was in full-fledged tears. She turned to hug Ron but it was cut short with Ron's yelp. "Scabbers!"

Romina's eyes widened at the sight of the rat scurrying away from them. Ron went after the rat despite Hermione's and Harry's calls for him to stop.

"What—I thought it was dead!?" Romina exclaimed.

"Hagrid found him," Harry said before they took chase after Ron.

They shouldn't be chasing Ron and his rat when it was starting to grow dark out but here they were, coming to a stop a short distance from the Whomping Willow.

"Ron!" Harry exclaimed once they found the redhead on the ground picking up his rat.

"Oh—he's too close!" Romina pointed at the Whomping Willow that was coming to life. "Ron, run!"

At the sound of their voices, Ron looked up. Dread filled his face but not for the reason the group presumed. "No, you run!" He pointed at something behind them, forcing them to spin around and see what was there.

A jet black dog was coming for them, running, and leaped at them, or so they thought. It jumped clear of the trio to land on Ron instead. He screamed as it bit his ankle and dragged him towards the Whomping Willow.

"Oh my God!" Romina was frozen in her spot but thankfully Harry was not. He lurched forwards in an attempt to catch Ron before the dog took him away.

Hermione then jumped after Harry to create a chain and hold him too. "I've got you!"

Unfortunately, nobody had anybody. Romina saw her friends being dragged towards to the Whomping Willow like they were nothing but ragdolls. She ran forwards hoping to catch Ron instead of following the chain. The dog had already slipped through a gap in the tree and eventually, as much as Harry held onto Ron's hand, it took Ron with him.

"ROOON!" The remaining trio yelled after him.

"What do we do now!?" Romina could see nothing but darkness through the gap. They could still hear an echo of Ron's screams but it was fading.

And then Hermione screamed. The Whomping Willow had swept her up into the air and it came for both Romina and Harry next. They landed a good distance from the gap albeit in awkward angles. One by one, they rose from the ground and made a race for the gap again.

"Watch out!" Romina cried as one branch came plunging down on them. They had to jump in opposite directions. Romina and Hermione made it but Harry was smacked again and this time, his glasses went flying in the air.

Hermione attempted to jump over the branches swinging her way. She got the first one but the second one took her right with it. Romina felt like she was in a wicked game of double dutch, only this one was deadly. The endgame was the gap and one way or another, they had to make it through to catch up with Ron. She made a clean run for it, making jumps every now and then despite several branches making gashes over her shoulders and one terribly painful one against her cheek. Her hair was also not helping one bit. One branch managed to entangle itself with a part of her hair which then plucked her right up from the ground. Like Hermione, she screamed.

Only Harry remained on the ground and not by much. Already he had to avoid more branches, with absolutely terrible vision, and he could hear both of his friends screaming. He got a lucky break when he found his glasses on the ground and they weren't broken. As soon as he put them on, he saw Hermione coming in his direction.

She grabbed his shirt on her way and picked him up. Harry had no idea why this would be a good idea but now there he was hanging on for dear life. A short second later, however, he felt Hermione's hand push him off. Down he went into the gap and through the dark tunnel.

"JUMP!" Hermione then told Romina.

"I CAN'T!" Romina shook her head—part of her hair was still tangled in the branch. "It's too long! Go without me!"

"Fat chance!" Hermione managed to sneak her wand out of her pocket. She thanked the heavens the crazy spinning hadn't yet made it fly out. Now she just had to make sure she aimed right...on a moving...tree…

"Don't you dare!" Romina yelled at her as soon as she saw Hermione's wand making an aim towards her. "WE'RE MOVING!"

Yes, yes they were moving and they were very short on time so…

"Diffindo!" Hermione cried.

Romina felt the slicing of her hair and because of it, she let go of the branch. Her body went tumbling into the gap, coming to an unceremonious landing somewhere dark and cold.

"Rom!?" Harry was already up and no doubt waiting for them. "Are you—"

Romina groaned when Hermione's body landed right over her.

"Oh, sorry!" Hermione rolled off her.

"Hermione Granger..." Romina's voice shook as she pushed Hermione off of her then sat upright. "What did you do to me!?"

Harry produced a wisp of light with his wand, allowing him to see exactly what Romina was so upset about. His eyes widened. "Oh, Rom…"

Romina's hands flung to her hair which was now chopped in a very uneven manner with some tips far shorter than others. Hermione winced at the strangled cry Romina gave.

"Romina, you'll be okay! You can just fix it with a-a hairstylist or — Madame Pomfrey! She can help!"

"I can't fix this on my own! I look hideous!" Romina shouted. Up until today, she had only shortened and enlarged her hair's length and changed part of its color. She had no layers which made it even easier but now that was all gone.

"You guys, we need to find Ron," Harry said. It sounded inconsiderate on his part but he was thinking about how Ron was doing with some psycho dog and suddenly hair issues didn't seem as important. "Rom, you don't look that bad—"

Romina cried even harder knowing that was a full lie. "Parkinson is gonna have full ammunition against me now!"

Hermione rushed to Romina's side to try and calm her down. She apologized over and over, swearing that she would help fix the hair until it was beautiful and perfect again.

Harry felt stupid the way he stood there watching one of his best friends sob. He honestly thought there was something wrong beyond the superficial hair problems. Romina wasn't the kind of girl to fixate so much on her appearance. This entire year had been one whole mystery with Romina and Harry suspected that this was the final straw. This was more than an uneven haircut.

Harry moved in front of Romina and bent down. "Rom, you're obviously going through some things and I'll be here after this to talk but please," he touched her shoulder, "we gotta go find Ron. He could be in real danger."

Romina's tears stained her face. She felt an overwhelming urge to cry and cry and...cry. She was so tired of everything, having to change every little thing about her in hopes that she would look different.

"Romina, we'll change your hair back," Hermione kept reiterating. "I will not rest until your hair is what it was before, I promise."

New tears filled Romina's eyes. "I don't want my hair to be what it was..." Her voice was strained as she stifled another sob. "I'm...I just want to be normal again."

Hermione exchanged looks with Harry. They had a good idea about what she meant now.

"I just want to be me..." Romina continued, instinctively reaching for a strand of her hair. She caught one of the longer ones by luck. "With my hair."

"Well, Rom, you can do that," Harry said slowly. "You can be whatever you want to be."

"But then everyone will think that I look like my mum — Elora. I'm going to look like Elora, and I don't want that.I don't want the first thing that people think of when they see me to be Death Eaters and that I'm one of their spawns."

"Parkinson has nothing to be talking about, Romina," said Harry sternly, knowing that girl was a huge factor in Romina's abrupt appearance changes. "Her parents may not have been death eaters but they were big supporters. She's a malicious pureblood witch. You're nothing like them."

"Not even close," Hermione agreed with a firm nod.

"Romina, you gotta believe us," Harry said. "And you gotta help us find Ron, please."

Romina thought for a seconds until sense hit her. Ron's in danger! You can't be so selfish! She couldn't be that selfish. That would make her exactly like the people she wanted to be different from.

She started clearing the tears off her cheeks. "We need to find Ron." She pulled herself up from the ground, dusting herself off as best as she could.

Harry was relieved with her choice and scrambled up to his feet as well before she changed her mind. Hermione followed and together, the three set out to find Ron at the end of the tunnel.

~ 0 ~

To the trio's surprise, they reached the end of the passageway and they climbed up into the Shrieking Shack.

"Of course we'd end up here," Romina mumbled under her breath. The place was so infamous that even the ghosts didn't wander near it. Where else would they end up if not there?

Harry was focused on the visible paw prints on the dusty floor. They heard creaking from the second floor which could only mean Ron was upstairs. They hurried up the steps and once they were up, they noticed there was a clear stripe on the otherwise dusty floor. Somebody had been dragged up and over the floor towards the only room at the end of the hallway that had a lit light. The trio exchanged glances before they started for the door. All three of them had their wands at the ready when they burst into the room.

Ron sat on a ruddy bed looking scared for dear life, clutching his rat to his chest.

"Ron! You're okay!" Hermione dashed for him. Romina followed closely behind, her hand still gripping her wand.

Harry lingered as he scanned the room. "The dog—where's the—?"

"It's a trap!" Ron frantically shouted, startling the trio. "He's the dog! He's an Animagus!"

Harry followed the track of paw prints on the floor and, to his wonder, they turned into the shape of human feet. That led him to—

"Oh my god!" Romina yelled this time.

Sirius Black was standing in the shadows waiting for them. Even when he looked like he could crumble from how slim he was, his grimy appearance was a fright. Harry wasted no time in drawing his wand again. Hermione set herself in front of Ron's bed and Romina made a dash to position herself in front of Harry.

"If you want to kill Harry, you'll have to kill us, too!"

"ROM!" Harry was downright horrified with her actions. He tried shoving her out of the way but it turned out she was a long stronger than she looked.

As scared as she was—and she was—Romina narrowed her dark eyes into a deep hateful glare on the man ahead of them. This was the man who had worked with her parents to kill Harry's parents. If he thought that she would be just like Elora and Caplan, he had another thing coming.

"No. Only one will die tonight," Sirius said, pointing a finger ahead of him.

"Then it'll be you!" Harry finally got a grip on Romina and pushed her to the side and ran straight for Sirius.

"Harry, no!" Hermione yelled as he lunged on Sirius.

Sirius laughed as Harry wrapped his hands around his neck. "Going to kill me, Harry?"

Harry didn't even hesitate to say a sharp 'yes!'.

"Harry, stop!" Romina came to pull him off the man before he attacked them. "Harry!" She pulled her friend back with him then drew her wand at Sirius again. "We don't kill him, but we can certainly turn him in—"

Suddenly, Lupin burst into the room and disarmed both Romina and Harry. With a nod of his head, he prompted the two to step back to where Hermione and Ron were. It was a wonder what would happen next. Too many questions were running through the students' heads.

Lupin pointed his wand at Sirius on the ground. "Looking a bit ragged, aren't we, Sirius? Finally the skin reflects the madness within!"

"You'd know all about the madness within, wouldn't you, Remus?" Sirius answered much too casually for the situation. A moment later, Lupin was helping him off the ground and they were hugging.

"No!" Hermione voiced everyone else's thoughts. "I trusted you! And all this time you've been his friend!" She looked at the others when she explained what she had to keep a secret for months. "He's a werewolf! That's why he's been missing classes!"

Romina was stunned. Harry and Ron were dumbfounded. How could they have missed that? If they'd paid more attention, the signs had all been there...

Lupin didn't seem very distraught that his secret was out. He regarded Hermione with bemusement. "How long have you known?"

"Since Professor Snape set the essay."

"My, my, you really are the brightest witch of your age I've ever met, Hermione."

Sirius blew a raspberry. "Yes, you glow like the sun. And you howl at the moon. Enough talk! He dies!"

"Wait, Sirius!"

"I did my waiting!" Sirius frantically yelled. "Twelve years of it! In Azkaban!"

"Very well," Lupin gave in.

"No!" Harry brandished Hermione's wand at the pair. "You betrayed my parents! You sold them to Voldemort!"

"It's a lie!"

"No, you did," Romina spoke much calmer than Harry but that was only because a lump in her throat was threatening to spill tears. "You worked with my parents and then together you all sold the Potters out. Everyone knows the bloody story!"

Sirius now regarded her with some interest but Lupin cut in before he ever said anything. "Romina, it's been a lie. Someone did betray Harry's parents. Someone in this room right now. Someone who, until quite recently, I believed to be dead."

"What're you talking about?" Harry demanded. Romina was too dumbfounded to speak. "There's nobody here."

"Peter Pettigrew! He's in this room! Right now!" Sirius exclaimed. "Come out, come out, Peter! Come out, come out and play!"

The door burst open again and this time Snape came in. "Expelliarmus!" Everyone's wands flew out of their hands. "Vengeance is sweet. How I hoped I'd be the one to catch you."

Lupin raised a hand towards him. "Severus—"

"I told Dumbledore you were helping your old friend into the castle. And here's the proof!

"Brilliant, Snape." Sirius rolled his eyes. "Once again you've put your keen penetrating mind to the task and as usual come to the wrong conclusion. Now, if you'll excuse us, Remus and I have some unfinished business... to attend to."

Snape pointed his wand at him, closely to his jaw. "Give me a reason. I beg you." Sirius had no choice but to back away.

"Severus, don't be a fool, Severus!"

"He can't help it. It's habit by now," Sirius said with a hint of a smirk.

"Sirius, be quiet!"

"Be quiet yourself Remus!"

The students all looked between the teachers bickering until Snape cut in. "Listen to you two. Quarreling like an old married couple."

"Oh, why don't you run along and play with your chemistry set!" Sirius waved him off.

"I could do it, you know. But why deny the dementors? They're so longing to see you." Snape grew closer to Sirius, his wand at the ready again. "Do I detect a flicker of fear? A Dementor's Kiss. One can only imagine what that must be like. It's said to be nearly unbearable to witness, but I'll do my best."

"Severs, please!" Lupin tried once again.

"After you!" Snape made a gesture for them to start walking. He wasn't going to let them get away. The pair had no choice but to start walking.

Harry took his opportunity to grab the last wand still with its owner.

"Hey!" Ron said when Harry pulled his wand from his pocket. Whatever else was about to come out of his mouth was forgotten when Snape went flying in the air against the wall.

"Harry!" Romina clapped a hand over her mouth. "You attacked a teacher!" And Snape of all of them!

Harry had the decency to look shocked himself. He got over it quick, though and pointed the wand at Sirius. "Tell me about Peter!"

"He was at school with us. We thought he was our friend!" Lupin explained.

"No! No. Pettigrew's dead. You" — Harry pointed with the wand at Sirius — "killed him!"

"No, he didn't," Lupin argued quite certainly. "I thought so too, until you mentioned seeing Pettigrew on the map!"

"The map was lying, then!"

"The map never lies!" snapped Sirius, also very certain of it.

Romina lifted an eyebrow at him for it. "How would you know that?"

"We made it!"

Romina was once again stunned. "No way…"

"Yes," Lupin confirmed.

"Pettigrew's alive! And he's right there!" Sirius pointed over to Ron who, by now, was tired of being at the other end of his slim finger.

"He's mental!

"No, not you! Your rat!"

Ron stood by his previous statement. "Scabbers has been in my family for…"

"Twelve years? Curiously long life for a common garden rat! He's missing a toe, isn't he?"

Hermione's eyebrows raised when the piece fit. She looked over to Ron almost apologetically.

"So what?" Ron shrugged.

"All they could find of Pettigrew was his…" Harry trailed off. The pieces were beginning to fall into place.

"Finger!" Sirius finished. "That dirty coward cut it off so everyone would think he was dead! And then he transformed into a rat!"

"So he's an Animagus too?" Romina pointed at the rat. Ron was utterly offended that she was believing the nonsense so easily. "Wouldn't-wouldn't that be on the registry. Hermione, you said—"

"Not if he wasn't registered," Hermione whispered. Romina had declared her crazy months ago when Hermione confided in her that she'd gone above and beyond for their Transfiguration class by looking up the Animagus registry to see what wizards and witches were registered on it.

Romina's eyes widened. She turned completely over to Ron, her hand pointing at the rat he so desperately held. "Oh! If he's been pulling that trick-Ron! He knows the truth!"

Ron shook his head and held the rat closer to his chest.

"The Oswell girl is right," Sirius said. "He knows the truth. He framed me! I would never betray my best friends like that!"

"Show me," Harry demanded. "Ron, give them the rat."

Lupin walked forwards to retrieve Scabbers and as much as Ron would've liked to fight for the creature, he let go simply to find out whether or not he and his entire family had played hosts to a murderer for the past 12 years. Lupin backed up with Scabbers in his hand. He set him down to cast the spell but that's when the rat took its chance to run.

Romina thought that was truth enough to what they'd been saying. What rat would run so desperately if it wasn't a human being in hiding? Eventually, Lupin managed to strike the rat with the spell and suddenly, Scabbers was no longer a rat but instead a big man with grubby little rat hands.

"Remus? Sirius?" He turned towards the two men. "My old friends!" His eyes then flickered to the students, precisely on Harry. "Harry! Look at you! You look so much like your father!"

Harry took a step back when the man came running up to him. Romina, with a crinkled nose, took a few long steps to the side.

"Like James! We were the best of friends—"

"How dare you speak to Harry!? How dare you talk about James in front of him!" Sirius bellowed and went after Peter. The shorter man ran to the first piece of furniture that would give him some safety for the moment.

"You sold James and Lily to Voldemort, didn't you?' Lupin demanded to know. Behind him, Harry wanted to know the same thing.

"I didn't mean to!" Peter said with a voice that sounded ready to crack. "The Dark Lord. You have no idea the weapons he possesses! Ask yourself, Sirius! What would you have done? What would you have done?"

"I would have died!" Sirius continued to roar. "I would have died, rather than betray my friends!"

Peter whimpered like an actual child. He dashed towards Ron on the bed. "Ron! Haven't I been a good friend? A good pet? You won't let them kill me, will you? I was your rat…"

Ron drew away from him as much as he could. He was downright disgusted.

Peter, desperately, turned for Hermione. He grabbed her by the shoulders and she quickly tried prying him off her. "Sweet girl. Clever girl. Surely you won't let them…"

"Let her go!" Romina yelled at him. He took one look at her and, possibly more frightened, stepped away from Hermione but only to then make an attempt on Harry.

"Harry, James wouldn't have wanted me killed!" Peter made a turn for Harry. He managed to slip from Lupin and Sirius for the moment. "Your dad... Your dad would have spared me! He would show me mercy!"

"You should've realized, Peter, that if Voldemort didn't kill you, then we would!" Lupin said, upholding his wand again. "Together!" Sirius was more than ready as well.

"No!" Harry suddenly shouted, startling everyone in the room.

"Harry, this man…"

"I know what he is. But we'll take him to the castle."

Relief flooded Peter's face. "Bless you, boy! Bless you!" He attempted to hug the boy but Harry shoved him off.

"Get off! I said we'd take you to the castle. After that, the dementors can have you.

Whatever relief had been on his face vanished the moment the realization sunk in.

~ 0 ~

Sirius and Harry each held one of Ron's arms to help him out of the passageway. Behind them were Romina and Hermione (who had miraculously known a sleepwalking spell to bring back Snape with them as well) and lastly Lupin was right behind a whimpering Peter.

Romina had been unusually quiet all the way and that was only because she didn't want to risk causing any rocks to fall on them. As soon as she saw the opening, she prepared herself. When they were out on the field again, they set Ron down to rest for a second. Harry couldn't help but wander to Sirius who put some distance between him and the group. Romina then saw her opportunity.

"Romina?" Hermione glanced at her when she noticed Romina standing up.

Romina ignored her and walked up to Peter. "Do you know me?" she asked the man, or rather demanded.

"Romina, I don't think this is the time," Lupin told her. He was still holding his wand at Peter because he had no doubt the man would make a run for it at the first chance he got.

"No, everyone got their go, it's my turn now," Romina said darkly, eyes glued to the prattling Peter. "Do you know who I am?"

"Of c-course," Peter answered in his shaky voice. "You're the Oswell girl. Their child."

"You worked with my parents," Romina said, briefly casting a glance in Sirius' direction. "It had to have been you if not...not Black. You worked with them! One-on-one, I'm sure!"

"I had to!" wailed Peter. "Your parents — they're wicked! You don't know them! They would've killed me if I didn't work with them!"

Romina swallowed hard. She abhorred the fact she agreed with someone like Peter. All she had were stories about those two and this was the first person who showed the true fear that Elora and Caplan Oswell instilled in their victims.

"They wanted the location of James and Lily. They were going to do things to me if I didn't give them what they wanted!"

Romina drew in a shaky breath. "They would have killed you for sure," she whispered. She almost, almost, apologized to Peter on behalf of her parents.

"You'll be just like them if you let them turn me over like it was my fault!"

Romina's eyes widened and pretty quickly formed a killer glare on the man. Her hand gripped her wand even tighter and she jabbed it against Peter's chest, eliciting a whimper from the rat-man. "What did you say to me?"

"Romina, step back," Lupin ordered. "Now!"

But Romina did the exact opposite. She got closer to Peter; her glare deepening on her face. "You're the criminal in this story! I know who my — I know who Elora and Caplan are and what they did but anyone brave enough would've done what was right and be loyal to their friends. I have no doubt that Elora and Caplan would've killed you whether or not you gave them the location. I know what they're capable of because I've heard all the stories, but me helping set the record straight and sending you to Azkaban doesn't make me like them. It'll set me apart from them." Her voice gained a roughness that she didn't even know she was capable of. "Rot in Azkaban next to them for all I care and tell them that I'm going to be fucking amazing without them." She twisted her wand against Peter's chest and watched him writhe in pain until Hermione pulled her back.

"Romina, stop—!"

Romina ripped her arm out of Hermione's grip and turned away, leaving a very startled Hermione behind her. Hermione gulped and looked back at the others who seemed just as concerned as she was.

Romina was practically shaking with anger and yet, at the same time, she could also say she was in despair. Everything about her parents was true, and here was the living proof. They happily turned one friend against his other friends and allowed for the framing of an innocent man. And this was just one of their pettier crimes. She wanted nothing to do with them; she didn't want to call them her parents anymore; she wished with all her heart that she could change her last name. Romina could feel the heated tears threatening to escape from her eyes. She wanted to be done with those two.

"Harry!" Hermione's sudden frantic cry made Romina's eyes snap open. She turned as Harry and Sirius did the same to see Hermione pointing at Lupin.

The full moon had risen.

Sirius was quick to reach his friend. "Remus, my old friend! Have you taken your potion tonight?" He had to hold onto Lupin because the man was getting ready to change into his wolf side, but it appeared like he was trying to fight it. "You know the man you truly are, Remus! This heart is where you truly live! This heart here! This flesh is only flesh!"

"No!" Harry saw Peter take hold of Lupin's wand. "Expelliarmus!"

The wand was out of Peter's grip but it was too late, he transformed back into a rat.

"NO! NO!" Romina would've chased after the rat had Hermione not grabbed her arm to yank her back. Lupin was already halfway to becoming a wolf.

"Run, all of you!" Sirius told them. His efforts to qualm Lupin's turn was done in vain. With one shove, Sirius toppled over the ground. Lupin finished the rest of his transformation to become a full werewolf.

"P-professor?" Hermione called him. For the moment, the wolf was still. Only his jagged breathing made a noise in the air.

"Nice doggy, nice doggy," Ron whimpered.

"Oh, that's not going to work!" Romina scolded the pair of them. "He's not...he's not...him anymore." And sure enough, the wolf started growling at them, inching closer to them.

"There you are, Potter!" Snape had finally come out of his spell and unknowingly blocked the group from the wolf. Of course as soon as the wolf growled loudly, Snape whirled around and saw what they were dealing with. His arms opened to cover the students.

The werewolf pounced on them but before it reached any of them, Sirius, in his animagus form, cut him off. They fought each other but in the end, the wolf was too strong. It threw the dog way over the field and dashed after to keep the fighting going.

"No, Sirius!" Harry slipped from Snape's shield to go after them.

"Come back here, Potter!" Snape yelled after them. Hermione and Romina attempted to do the same but he caught them both by their arms. "Don't even think about it!"

"But Harry!" Romina was frantically gesturing after their friend. He was in the dark forest chasing after two creatures with absolutely no back up.

[petrichoriansys]

Hi! You can call us Petrichor. Ric or Ricky also works. We collectively use they/he pronouns. Our body is 17y/o, so please keep that in mind, even when interacting with adult alters. French is our native language, so please be patient, sometimes we mess up our english.

We are a french and indigenous DID system. This blog was made to reconnect with the osddid community, since we’ve been falling back into denial lately.

We used to be particularly active in the syscourse community. There will be absolutely no syscourse on this blog (ha I’ve broken this already sorry -John). This is to stay a fully safe and discourse-free space for our system. (Since I’ve broken this rule already, click here for our syscourse opinions and endo interaction boundaries).

I’m willing to bet this account’s aesthetic will change regularly. This seems to be an aesthetic we all agree on, but the moment Ellie shows up everything is likely becoming pink again. Just bear with us.

Do not interact: Basic dni, proship/comship + supporters, discourse exclusive blogs, fakeclaimers, against educated and researched self diagnosis.

More information after the cut.

Dropping the aesthetic from here since this part’s hidden.

We don’t often refer to ourselves as a system and more often than not will use ‘I’ instead of ‘we,’ but for simplicity’s sake we will be doing the opposite in this post.

We gave up on sticking with a host. It’s tiring and with us being polyfragmented, it’s much easier to just let alters switch around as they please without having a set host. Because of this, our frequent fronters change a lot.

Also, please keep in mind that while not all our alters are introjects, our brain has a much easier time forming alters when there’s a base to go off of, and our fictives tend to be the most comfortable fronting. It might be rare for a frequent fronter to not be an introject. Most our introjects aren’t incredibly connected to source. Doubles are fine to interact, some of us may just step back if it feels weird.

Here are some of our frequent fronters. We will try to update this regularly, but no promises. Each member description is accompanied by an image of approximately what they look like.

JOHN - He/him

35y/o, m-leaning bi, ambiamorous, might accidentally speak to you in a british accent.

Introject of John H. Watson (specifically BBC Sherlock s4).

You can find him at @jonkwatsom !

This took ages to find. Nobody draws any fully sfw solo John fanart. Our John has the s4/Everett Ross haircut though, a tad less hedgehog-y.

CONAN - He/they

30y/o, gay, ambiamorous, less likely to speak to you in a british accent but still possible, don’t believe him if he says we play violin (he desperately wants to learn it).

Introject of Sherlock Holmes (Mostly BBC Sherlock, but there’s a bit of Doyle canon and MTP as well). Don’t call him Sherlock, he might yell at you.

(Lil sidenote from John: we sometimes refer to each other as Jawn and Sher, please don’t do that. That’s a little joke between us).

John (hi hello I’m the one making this post) thought this image was cute (and a tad funny). Conan, you’re free to change it, just don’t fuck up my intro please.

That’s it for now. This will definitely get edited later. It’s getting WAY too long now, so… goodbye.

[shepardstales]

So... who wants to read the prologue of Chain Of Memories?

Bearing in mind, this is draft 1 and I wanna edit it when I'm done writing the whole wip

I sent it to @midnight-blue-moon-princess

About this wip

Okay so Chain Of Memories is about a non-binary person named Eon and their friend Regina, who keep getting memories of their past lives, of something that happened to them and as the world they’re currently in, is falling apart, they’re trying to save the world and stop the bad guys, then when they find out what relation they are to each other, that being partners, they try to break the cycle so they can live their final life in peace/ live together for as long as possible and travel to see the world

Prologue

1924

???

The sound of shattering glass pierced my eardrums and I knew I had to keep on running. Looking around me, I try to get my bearings. I’m in a castle, it seems so familiar to me but now is not the time to reminisce, I’m in a hallway with many connecting hallways, courtyards, twists and turns.

They turn another corner and I hear screaming and things being thrown behind me. I keep my sight ahead of me and keep dodging anything that is thrown my way.

The twists and turns seem to shatter and fix themselves in new ways, making new pathways and we don’t even know where the true exit is. This is The God Complex.

Two figures are running away, up in front of me and I can barely make out who they are, but they are friends. Family, even.

“Eon! Regina!” I call out, trying to catch up with them.

There’s no time to be happy, there’s no time for a hello. We need to keep on moving.

“Stay and play with us! You won’t get stronger that way. You want to be stronger, don’t you?” A voice pierces our ears, taunting us. Bone-chilling.

I feel my hands grow cold and numb, so I look back and see two balls of light and darkness fighting to keep up with us. Wings clash between the lights. Angels and Demons fighting, an age old story.

Behind this, a pillar of light slams into the ground, missing us by inches, but I’m sent flying by the force of the movement anyway. The orbs of Angels and Demons fly down the hallway, skidding into a wall and letting down their guards.

“No!” Eon screeches, Regina falling behind him into a statue of pure horror.

They look around them, unsure what to say or what to do.

My fingers skim Eon’s clothing, trying to grab on, noticing the ground disappearing and hands made of outer space and pure power yank me out into the air and pull me into a literal black hole.

“You think this is over? You haven’t seen nothing yet, cockroaches!” A voice fills every sense imaginable and drowns me in my own sorrow.

The last thing I see are the hands closing the darkness around me like a bubble and Regina’s horrified screams being drowned by a Demon’s grasp on her.

Say goodbye to tomorrow. Say goodbye to everything.

[equixen]

Equixen’s Master List

All my stuff grouped by fandom. Most links go to the related Tumblr post but a few of my older videos aren’t on Tumblr so those links go straight to YouTube.

The Chronicles of Narnia - Caspian/Peter

Fan videos:

The Union

O Night Divine

Remembering You

The Great War

Run To You - Original Post / Retrospective 

The Reunion

Immortals

Before You Go - Original Post / Retrospective

What Hurts the Most

Fan fiction:

You Take Me Higher

What Stays and What Fades Away

Safe In Your Hands

Our Hands Are Tied

Before You Go

Live With Me Forever Now

Image edits

Modern AU almost kiss (manip)

Desktop wallpaper 4

They’re the same picture (meme)

Kisses in the dark (manip)

Before You Go armour scene (manip)

Kiss in an 1890′s AU (manip)

Desktop wallpaper 3

Not needed here anymore (manip)

Goodbye/Hello (edit)

Desktop wallpaper 2

Desktop wallpaper 1

Other:

Ocean/Sun Headcanons

The Chronicles of Narnia - Other

Fan videos:

Poison & Wine - Edmund/Sanya [OC]

Keep Us Connected - Susan Pevensie (The Last Battle)

Goodbye - Lucy, Edmund, Susan and Peter

My own merch creations:

2024 Narnia calendar

Narnia Poster

Doctor Who

Fan video: Hold My Hand – 13th Doctor/Yaz

Fan video: My Once In A Lifetime – Doctor/Rose

Fan video: It’s Out of My Hands – 9th Doctor and Clara (AU)

Fan video: Beside You - Amy/Rory

Fan video: Hurricane – The Doctor

Fan video: You’re Everything – 11th Doctor/River Song

Fan video: Silence Is All You Know - 11th Doctor/River Song

Fan video: Here With Me – 10th Doctor/Rose

Fan video: I Do (Cherish You) – Doctor/Rose

Marvel Cinematic Universe

Fan video: Unconditionally – Natasha/Bruce

Fan video: Almost Love – Steve/Bucky

Fan video: Stay – Steve/Bucky

Class

Fan video: Never Gonna Be Alone – Charlie/ Matteusz

Fan video: Sine From Above – Charlie and Miss Quill

Poster: The Cast

Xena: Warrior Princess – Xena/Gabrielle

Fan video: Space Between

Fan video: Who Knew

Fan video: End of The World

BBC Sherlock – Sherlock/John

Fan video: All of Me

Fan video: The Truth In Your Eyes

Adam Lambert

Desktop wallpaper 1

Desktop wallpaper 2

Desktop wallpaper 3

Queer As Folk

Desktop wallpaper – Ben/Michael

Desktop wallpaper – Brian/Justin

Fan video: Say When – Ted

Fan video: It’s Complicated – Brian/Justin

Fan video: Pride – Brian/Justin

Fan video: All That I’m Asking For – Brian/Justin

Fan video: Permanent – Brian/Justin

Fan video: I’d Come For You – Brian/Justin

Other:

Fan video: Lose You Now – How I Met Your Mother - Barney/Robin

Poster: Team Free Will - Supernatural

Fan video: Somebody To Die For – Good Omens - Crowley/Aziraphale

Fan video: Better Than I Know Myself – The Witcher - Geralt/Jaskier

Fan video: Always Remember Us This Away – Outlander - Jamie/Claire

Fan video: So Cold – The Book Thief

Fan video: All About Us – The Newtown Girls - Alex/Scarlet

[buyersguides]

iPhone 16 Pro Max

A Game-Changer in Mobile Technology

Discover the iPhone 16 Pro Max, groundbreaking features, unmatched performance, and sleek design. Learn why it’s set to redefine the smartphone experience in 2025. Check UK Prices

Introduction

The iPhone 16 Pro Max is here, and it’s turning heads in ways no other smartphone has before. Apple has once again pushed the envelope, delivering a device that’s not just a phone but a technological masterpiece. Whether you’re a photography enthusiast, a gamer, or someone who simply loves cutting-edge tech, this phone has something for everyone. Let’s dive into what makes the Apple 16 Pro Max the ultimate powerhouse and why it’s worth all the hype.

Design and Build: Sleek, Stylish, and Sturdy

Apple never disappoints when it comes to design, and the is no exception. Crafted from aerospace-grade titanium, this phone is lighter yet more durable than ever. The edges have a polished, ergonomic curve, making it a delight to hold for hours—no more hand cramps after binge-watching your favorite Netflix series! - Display: The 6.9-inch Super Retina XDR display is simply stunning. With ProMotion technology and a buttery smooth 120Hz refresh rate, scrolling, gaming, and streaming feel incredibly immersive. - Colors: Available in classic shades like Graphite, Silver, Gold, and an all-new Midnight Blue, this phone screams sophistication. - Build Quality: Dust and water resistance (IP68) make it the perfect companion for adventures, whether you’re lounging poolside or braving the rain.

Performance and Power: The A18 Bionic Chip

Let’s talk speed. Powered by Apple’s new A18 Bionic chip, the iPhone 16 Pro Max delivers performance that’s nothing short of jaw-dropping. This chip isn’t just fast—it’s scorching fast, handling everything from 4K video editing to demanding mobile games without breaking a sweat. - Efficiency: Thanks to its 3nm architecture, the A18 Bionic is more power-efficient, giving you extended battery life without compromising on performance. - Multitasking: Whether you’re switching between apps or running heavy-duty programs, this phone handles it all like a pro.

Camera: Redefining Photography

If there’s one area where the 16 Pro Max truly shines, it’s the camera. Apple has introduced a triple-lens system that takes mobile photography to the next level. Say goodbye to blurry snaps and hello to DSLR-level quality in your pocket. Key Camera Features - 48MP Main Sensor: Captures incredible detail, even in low light. - Periscope Lens: Zoom up to 10x optically without losing sharpness. Perfect for wildlife photography or candid street shots. - Photonic Engine: Enhances colors, textures, and details for lifelike images. - Cinematic Mode: Now supports 8K video recording with HDR, making your videos look like they were shot in a Hollywood studio. Selfie lovers, rejoice! The front camera now includes auto-focus and improved low-light capabilities, ensuring your selfies always look flawless—even during those late-night outings.

Battery Life: All-Day Power

Tired of your phone dying mid-day? The iPhone 16 Pro Max has got your back. With a larger battery and the efficiency of the A18 Bionic chip, you can easily power through a full day of heavy use. From morning emails to evening gaming sessions, this phone keeps up with your lifestyle. - Fast Charging: Get up to 50% charge in just 20 minutes with a compatible adapter. - Wireless Charging: Supports MagSafe and Qi wireless charging for added convenience.

Software: iOS 19

The 16 Pro Max runs on iOS 19, Apple’s latest operating system. Packed with new features and enhancements, iOS 19 is designed to make your life easier and more enjoyable. - Dynamic Widgets: Customize your home screen like never before. - Improved Face ID: Works even when wearing sunglasses or a face mask. - Focus Modes: Tailor your notifications and apps for work, relaxation, or sleep.

Gaming on the iPhone 16 Pro Max

Gamers, rejoice! The 16 Pro Max is a beast when it comes to gaming. With its A18 Bionic chip and ProMotion display, you can enjoy lag-free gameplay with stunning graphics. Plus, the new haptic feedback system adds a layer of realism that makes mobile gaming feel like console gaming.

Privacy and Security

Apple has always been a leader in privacy, and the 16 Pro Max continues that tradition. From on-device Siri processing to app tracking transparency, your data is safer than ever. - Secure Enclave: Keeps your personal information locked down. - Crash Detection: Alerts emergency services in case of an accident.

FAQs about the iPhone 16 Pro Max

1. What’s new in the iPhone 16 Pro Max? The iPhone 16 Pro Max boasts a titanium build, the A18 Bionic chip, a triple-lens camera system with a periscope lens, and iOS 19. It also introduces a larger battery and enhanced gaming capabilities. 2. How does the camera compare to previous models? The camera on the iPhone 16 Pro Max is a significant leap forward. With a 48MP main sensor, 10x optical zoom, and the Photonic Engine, it delivers breathtaking photos and videos. 3. Is the iPhone 16 Pro Max worth upgrading to? If you’re looking for cutting-edge performance, unmatched camera quality, and all-day battery life, the iPhone 16 Pro Max is absolutely worth the upgrade. 4. Does it support 5G? Yes, the iPhone 16 Pro Max is 5G-ready, ensuring lightning-fast internet speeds wherever you go. 5. What’s the difference between the iPhone 16 Pro Max and the regular iPhone 16? The Pro Max offers a larger display, better battery life, and advanced camera features like the periscope lens, making it the premium choice for tech enthusiasts.

Conclusion

The iPhone 16 Pro Max isn’t just a phone—it’s a revolution in your pocket. From its sleek design and powerful performance to its groundbreaking camera and long-lasting battery, it’s clear that Apple has outdone itself yet again. Whether you’re a tech geek, a photographer, or someone who just wants a reliable, stylish device, the Apple 16 Pro Max is worth every penny. Ready to experience the future of smartphones? The 16 Pro Max is calling your name—don’t keep it waiting! Editors Choice

- For a list of our main buyers guides use the drop-down menu at the top of the page. Topics related to this article are: Electronics Buyers Guides Buyers Guides Homepage - Read the full article

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October 2024 Zoho Books Product Updates: Elevate Your Accounting Game with Integs Cloud 

At Integs Cloud, we believe in working smarter, not harder—and with the latest Zoho Books updates, you can do just that. These fresh features are designed to take the heavy lifting out of your accounting, making your workflows as smooth as silk. From hassle-free tax management to seamless payment solutions, the October 2024 updates are packed with tools to keep your business running like a well-oiled machine. Let’s dive into the key highlights that will help you stay ahead of the curve!

1. Zoho Payments for Zoho Books: Your Money, On the Move  

Ever feel like you’re chasing your tail when it comes to collecting payments? Well, not anymore! With Zoho Payments, you can now streamline the payment process right inside Zoho Books. Say goodbye to delayed payments and hello to secure, daily payouts. Whether your customers prefer credit cards, net banking, or UPI, Zoho Payments has got you covered.

Currently available in India (and in early access in the U.S.), this feature is a game-changer for businesses that want to keep cash flow rolling in smoothly.

2. Keep TDS Tax Management in Check(India Edition)  

As tax rates change faster than the weather, it’s crucial to stay on top of them. Zoho Books has introduced the option to set an applicable period for TDS rates, helping you keep everything up to date. Once the period expires, you can’t apply the old rates, ensuring you’re always in line with government regulations.

This feature is your safety net for compliance—because when it comes to taxes, it’s better to be safe than sorry.

3. Multitasking Made Easy with Minimized Web Tabs  

Do you ever feel like you need an extra set of hands to keep up with your workload? The new minimized tab view lets you juggle multiple tasks without breaking a sweat. Now you can minimize your web tabs and hop between modules without losing track of what you’re working on. It’s like having your cake and eating it too—productivity at its finest!

4. Assign Company IDs to Customers and Vendors (Global Edition)  

In today’s globalized world, keeping track of customer and vendor information is no small feat. Zoho Books’ new Company ID field simplifies this by allowing you to store unique identification numbers for each business. Whether it’s the SIREN number in France or any other regional ID, this feature ensures your records are as organized as a filing cabinet.

5. Envia Integration: Your Shipping Solution in One Click  

Shipping operations can feel like navigating a maze, but with the new Envia integration, Zoho Books makes it a walk in the park. You can now generate shipping labels, track real-time rates, manage stock levels, and even automate repetitive tasks.

This integration is a perfect fit for businesses that use the Zoho Inventory Add-On, streamlining logistics and saving you time.

6. Advanced Searches in Manual Journals: Zero In on What Matters  

Tired of searching for a needle in a haystack? With Zoho Books’ new advanced search for manual journals, you can now filter entries by customer or vendor name. It’s a small change, but it packs a punch in terms of efficiency—saving you time and headaches.

7. Automate Workflows with Custom Triggers  

Set it and forget it! Zoho Books now allows you to customize workflow triggers based on specific actions or events. This means you can automate tasks across multiple platforms, like creating a lead in your CRM every time an invoice is generated in Zoho Books. On top of that, you can export workflow logs in CSV or XLSX format to keep track of everything.

This feature is the perfect example of “work smarter, not harder.”

8. Other Feature Enhancements  

You can now associate TDS at the line-item level for more accurate tax management (India Edition).

Enhanced filtering options in Activity Logs and Audit Trail reports help you stay in control of your financial data.

AR Aging Summary and Details reports now come with advanced filters and groupings, making them easier to navigate and customize.

Final Thoughts  

In conclusion, these updates are more than just bells and whistles—they’re game-changing tools that will help you simplify accounting, boost compliance, and streamline operations. As your trusted Zoho Solution Partner, Integs Cloud is here to ensure you get the most out of Zoho Books, whether it’s managing taxes or automating tasks.

Ready to jump in? Contact Integs Cloud today to explore how these updates can help your business run smoother than ever!