#i have so many clothes that i love but ive realised they make me feel like im wearing drag and as i said. that is good to feel sometimes.

[rosyblooom]

losing ur interest | op81 smau

PAIRING: oscar piastri x fem best friend!reader WARNING(S): kinda angsty SUMMARY: oscar spent the better half of his teens and early twenties pining after his best friend, y/n, with no luck. however, by the time y/n finally sees him in a romantic light, his love is long gone.

Instagram

yourusername

liked by landonorris, oscarpiastri, lilymhe, and 91,740 others

yourusername did i jump in the water fully clothed for my bestie only to get one nice shot?? yes yes i did that and u would do it too for a free dinner! 😌

view all 1,225 comments

username she was an employee! and she was gonna get employee of the month period y/n !!!

yourusername yessir🫡 username 🤣🤣

username so... where is this picture you speak of🧍‍♀️

oscarpiastri 40 cad of food for 1 pic...😐

yourusername not my fault u're so unphotogenic x username oscar bby the public would like to see it pls 🤲🧎‍♀️

username prettyyyy

landonorris the camera guy always gets the short end of the stick smh guess who paid for my food🤨

yourusername uhm... so anyway the weather was soo nice😋 landonorris woow

oscarpiastri posted to his story!

[ caption: This picture alone is NOT worth a fully paid meal! 2/10 ]

[ tagged: yourusername ]

oscarpiastri

liked by logansargeant, yourfriend, landonorris and 265,880 others

tagged: yourusername

oscarpiastri Two best friends in a room, they might...

view all 3,002 comments

username KISS OMG THEY MIGHT FUCKING KISS YESS PLS😭

oscarpiastri 👀👀👀 yourusername ahahahahahaha😂 username ouch...my heart hurts for osc🥹💔 username alright y/n it ain't that funny😐

username AHHJKSH they're so cute omfg

username slowly realising best friends to lovers ain't ever gonna happen with these two😩

landonorris finally give photo credits???🤨

username oop yourusername never 😙❤️

username the way y/n didn't even like the post omg crying and fucking throwing up

username 😭😭 username sigh... nobody talk to me rn 😞

f1gossipofficial

liked by username, username, username and 11,840 others

f1gossipofficial Y/N L/N, Oscar Piastri's long-time childhood best friend, was spotted entering the paddock today! Despite being a fan favourite, she hasn't attended many races and tends to keep to herself.

Nevertheless, fans are thrilled to see Y/N supporting Piastri at this year's Australian Grand Prix!

Best of luck to all drivers today!

view all 531 comments

username y/n on insta: 🤪😆🗣️ y/n at a gp: 🤐😊🙈

username LMAOO ...why is this me tho🥲 username she's so real for that lololol username ntm on my girl now, she's just shy🤣🫶

username it's so clear oscar's in love with her omg

username she's not tho☹️

username imagine if oscar wins today👀👀

username she looks so prettyyyyy <3

username ew she's just there for the money and fame🤢

username "long-term childhood best friend" what's not clicking??? yall just be saying anything smh

yourusername posted to her story!

[ caption: alright boys, time to get on ur zoom 🏎️ ]

[ tagged: oscarpiastri, landonorris ]

Twitter

Instagram

oscarpiastri posted to his story!

[ caption 1: When your best friend buys you pizza to make you feel better after a crash 😊 ] [ caption 2: Nevermind she dropped it 🤦‍♂️ Actually feeling worse now! ]

[ tagged: yourusername ]

A few months later...

Instagram

yourusername posted to her story!

[ caption: the best type of mattress 😌 ]

[ tagged: oscarpiastri ]

ynfanpage

liked by username, username, yourusername and 3,892 others

tagged: yourusername, oscarpiastri

ynfanpage guys have you noticed how giddy and touchy y/n's become around oscar ever since his crash at the aus gp??? these are some pics she's posted since then👀👀👀

view all 227 comments

username OMG YES IVE BEEN DYING TO TALK ABOUT IT

username what do you wanna bet she realised she was in love with osc that day??🥺

username IMAGINE. that would actually make so much sense!!! best friend to lovers at last omfg 😍🫶 username my nonna always said "sometimes u have to almost lose someone to realise how much they really mean to u"🥹

username Y/N IS IN THE FUCKING LIKES WTF‼️

username probably by accident🥲 username BUT WHAT IF IT'S NOT AN ACCIDENT??? maybe we'll get a hard launch soon omgg

username they're sooo dating lol

oscarpiastri

liked by yourusername, lilyzneimer, logansargeant and 201,888 others

tagged: yourusername, lilyzneimer + more

oscarpiastri Made some new friends at the beach today :)

view all 1,962 comments

username the vibes in these are immaculate🤩

yourusername same time, same place? :)❤️

landonorris where was my invite???

oscarpiastri Non-existent 😊 username lmaoo why are they like this🤣🤣

username is that y/n and osc in the third pic??🧐

username idk but lmk when u figure it out babes

lilyzneimer super fun! nice meeting you guys 💛

oscarpiastri You too 😆

username idk oscar responding to everybody but y/n's comment rubs me the wrong way...🤨

Instagram

lilyzneimer posted to her story!

[ caption: 🍝💛💛 ]

Instagram

yourusername

liked by landonorris, lilymhe, riabish and 82,045 others

yourusername beach x (ty lovely waiter for taking my pic for me)

view all 1,528 comments

lilymhe prettiest! 💕

yourusername youuu <33

username where's oscarrrr

username she's so fake😒 how is she super shy at the gp and then so outgoing here smh??

username lmao maybe bc this is her own insta?? like duh she feels comfortable on her own page wtf

landonorris alone?🤨 where's your shadow

yourusername u're so...😭 username LMAOO referring to oscar as her shadow is crazy??💀💀 username i'm cryin🤣🤣

oscarpiastri posted to his story!

[ caption: 😊❤️ ]

[ tagged: lilyzneimer ]

Twitter

Instagram

yourusername posted to her story!

[ caption: girls night in? yes, yes pls :) ]

[ tagged: yourfriend + more ]

0:02 ㅇ──────────── 3:17

no part 2!

[fuckyeahdindjarin]

Seams drabble: Patch

{ Part IV: Notch | Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist }

Rating: None

Summary: Ellie finds a Pride-themed sew on patch that leads to revelations.

Warnings: Pure fluff and love for this girl, some angst, coming out, total disregard of canon because I don't know how it goes in the game.

Word count: 1.3k

Notes: This idea struck me out of the blue many months ago, and I was waiting for 'the right place' in the series, until I mentioned it to a dear friend in passing conversation and then I just started writing it. Very lightly edited. Set at unspecified time frame after Part IV.

Ellie hums to herself from her spot in a cosy corner of the Outfitters, one watchful eye on the door. It’s an uncharacteristically slow Saturday, but she’s not complaining - she has her hands full.

A big canvas sack lies empty on the floor, its contents strewn haphazardly all over the wooden floor. The mess drives you up the wall, but you know better than to question her (very questionable) methods, so you’re ensconced in the safety of your studio while she sorts through the clothes and odds and ends that the patrollers brought back from their most recent outing.

Though infrequent - most settlements around Jackson have been painstakingly pilfered for anything useful over the years - it’s her favourite duty at the shop. Lucy is looser with the rules, but sometimes, you let Ellie keep little knick knacks that won’t sell.

The teenager goes through the pile thoroughly. Shirts go in one stack, jeans in another, followed by shoes, hats and scarves. Turning to the heap of smaller loose trinkets, she separates mismatched buttons, safety pins, shoelaces and zippers (as Maria always says, every little help), when something colourful piques her attention.

Plucking the piece of fabric out of the jumble, Ellie recognises it as a decorative patch that she’s seen sewn onto bags and shirts. It’s the size of her palm, cut in the shape of a rainbow, the colours still bright. Over the arches, bold white text outlined in black spells out NYC PRIDE 2003.

Tucking it into her pocket for now, she quickly finishes the rest of the sorting. Clothes go into the bin to be collected by the laundry, shoes for the cobbler’s, and accessories into a box to be priced and shelved.

Ambling into the back of the shop where you’re busy hemming a pair of jeans, Ellie plops into one of the rolling chairs, straddling the back of it, and the wheels screech as she careens across the floor to your sewing station.

Your lips quirk as you look up briefly at her. ‘Find anything interesting?’

‘Just this,’ she replies, flashing you the patch and reading aloud, ‘NYC Pride 2003. What does that mean?’

‘There used to be a big pride parade for the LGBT community every year in New York City,’ you explain. ‘They used to close down the streets and everything for it, it was a huge event.’

Ellie blinks, your answer taking her by surprise. She clears her throat, a distant buzzing at the back of her head as she turns the patch over pensively in her hand. ‘What - do you know what it was like?’

‘I’ve never been to one, but it always looked incredible. People used to line the streets in support, and everyone dressed up. There’d be rainbow flags everywhere, floats, dancing, music, and of course, it was an important way for the community to highlight and push for LGBT rights.’

‘You mean -’ she pauses, the unfamiliar feeling of stumbling over her words making her hands sweat. ‘You mean, people would just be out in public, like, being themselves?’

‘More than that - they were celebrating themselves.’

Ellie doesn’t realise she’s fallen quiet until you speak, ‘You can keep it if you want.’

Her head snaps up, disoriented. ‘Keep what?’

‘That.’ You nod towards the patch she’s clinging onto so tightly that her knuckles have gone white.

Panic prickles the back of her neck, an embarrassed heat suddenly making her want to pull at the collar of her flannel. But then you shrug and say, almost flippantly, ‘It’s pretty.’

‘Yes,’ she blurts out in hasty agreement, letting out a breath she’s been unconsciously holding. ‘It’s very pretty.’

Ellie is relieved when you turn back to the sewing machine, leaving her to retrace her steps to the front of the shop. The patch sits on the counter, where she leaves it, as she goes about her business for the rest of her shift.

Her eyes travel to the rainbow, and she thinks of how she wasn’t like the other girls at school, who fawned over dogeared photos of singers and actors long dead. She thinks of how she’s always known she’s different, but didn’t have the vocabulary to express it.

She thinks of Riley.

Riley.

For Riley.

When half three rolls around, you spot the teenager lingering by the studio doorway out of the corner of your eye, her backpack dangling from her fingers. Any other Saturday, you’d be lucky to catch the blurry shape of her shadow when she gallops out of the shop, throwing a see ya over her shoulder.

Thrown by her silence, you prompt, ‘Yes, Ellie?’

Scruffing the tips of her well-worn sneakers on the floorboards, she bites her lip in an atypical display of hesitance. ‘Pin, could you help me sew the patch onto my backpack? Please?’

You smile, eyes soft. ‘I’d love to. C’mon.’

‘You don’t have to do it now,’ she protests, feigning nonchalance, but her twitchy hands give her away. ‘Like, whatever, it’s no big deal.’

Wanting to put her at ease, you shrug. ‘No time like the present. Where do you want it?’

Putting her bag on your work surface, she points. ‘Guess right here under the wings.’

‘Perfect. Can you unzip the bag for me?’

You have Ellie hold the rainbow exactly where she wants it while you thread the needle, and you start sewing it in by hand, stitch by tidy stitch. It barely takes a couple of minutes, but time is of the essence - you haven’t heard the girl take a single breath of air since the anchor stitch.

Snipping off the thread with a flourish and giving it a once over, you grin. ‘There, all done.’

Ellie ducks her head, quiet as she takes the bag from your hands, running a thumb over the arches of the rainbow. Without a word, she suddenly throws her arms around you, hugging you tight.

‘Thanks, Pin,’ she mumbles into your hair.

Your heart swells, and you squeeze her back even tighter. ‘Anything for you, kiddo.’

On Monday morning, Ellie hovers in the hallway outside the kitchen, observing.

Joel is at the table, oblivious with his back to the door, her breakfast of two fried eggs over and easy and toast waiting at her usual spot at the table. Taking a deep breath, she bites the bullet and walks in, backpack in her hand.

‘Mornin’,’ grunts Joel, almost done with his own eggs, sunny side up.

‘Morning,’ she parrots back as she makes herself comfortable.

She usually just dumps her bag on the floor, but today, she pulls out the chair next to her and drops it into the seat. The unusual movement catches Joel’s eye, and he takes a good long look at the backpack.

Eventually, he points vaguely in what she assumes is the direction of the rainbow patch, and says, ‘That looks new.’

‘Yup, Pin helped me sew it on.’

He purses his lips, asking around a mouthful of egg. ‘You know what Pride is?’

She swallows thickly, and it takes a beat to unstick her tongue from the roof of her mouth. ‘Yeah, Pin told me.’

He nods, then turns his attention back to his plate with no fanfare.

Not entirely sure if he caught the nuance but her mind too in knots to care, Ellie picks up her fork and doesn’t think twice when he gets up to put his dish in the sink.

She nearly chokes on eggs when strong arms close around her shoulders in a vice-like grip, scratchy beard on her temple, Joel’s voice so thick that it makes her think if she turns around, she’ll see tears in his eyes.

‘Proud of you, baby girl.’

Later that afternoon, Joel finds you alone in the shop, restocking the women’s outerwear rack.

You toss him a smile over your shoulder. ‘Hey, what are you doing here?’

‘Lucy ‘round?’ he asks.

‘When is she ever?’ you quip with no bite.

Three steps and he’s spun you around by the waist, soft lips latching onto yours in a sweet kiss with just a hint of heated aftertaste that has you swaying on your feet when he pulls back.

A breathless laugh bubbles in your throat as you palm his whiskered jawline. ‘Why, thank you for that, Mr. Miller.’

The corners of his eyes crinkle, and he brushes his nose tenderly against your cheek. ‘No, thank you, sweetheart.’

Notes: I hope I wrote Ellie's coming out as sensitively as I hoped to. As I mentioned, I have no idea how or if she comes out in the game, but despite being such a chatty teenager, I think she'd find it difficult to broach the subject with Joel in conversation. For me, this was a fun way of weaving in her part-time job at the Outfitters and Pin into her coming out story that stays true to Ellie's character. I hope you enjoyed this - comments and reblogs appreciated as always!

P.S. I am not 'back' back, so I don't know when I will next update Seams. Thank you for your patience while I try to navigate my way back to some semblence of writing regularly, whenever that may be.

Thank you @firefly-graphics for the dividers ❤️

[kemendin]

Realisation // Ruin

Jedi Knight Caspian Serapis is at last reunited with his missing crewmates, Kira Carsen and Lord Scourge, when the two make an unexpected appearance on Corellia to rescue him from the wreckage of the Meridian Complex. As Cas recovers and reconnects with his companions in the quiet aftermath of the battle, it isn’t just his own long-lost yearnings that are pushed to light. Now, after so many years apart, both Cas and Scourge must decide - does the path ahead lie again in their curious bond as allies, or as something more?

JEDI KNIGHT X LORD SCOURGE Words: 19800 (complete) A/N: Well, here we are - my version of Scourge and Kira's return, combined with Scourge's romance scene. This started as simple indignation that following Objective Meridian, the story overlooks the incredible potential dramangst of having the player - particular the JK - being rescued from the wreckage of the Meridian Complex, instead of offscreen Tau and Arn. So - I'm fixing that. Sorry Cas! As I've done before, I've taken the basics of in game conversations and reworked/expanded them to better suit my headcanons. I love Scourge's romance scene, but it's always felt a little rushed/choppy to me considering how long he's been gone. I'll be posting two chapters at a time since they're mostly on the shorter side, likely every couple of weeks, but we shall see how it goes. I’ll keep this masterpost updated as I go.

MOOD MUSIC

| i | ii | iii | iv | v | vi | vii | viii | ix | x | xi |

Read on AO3 (short excerpt below cut)

Outside, battle still flurries and flares through the Corellian shipyards, as Republic and Alliance forces work to drive back the breaking Imperial assault.

But here, inside the central spire of the Meridian Complex, it’s oddly quiet; the cries of combat reduced to distorted echoes that flit unsettlingly through the massive, hollow core.

On a central platform high, high above the smoke that wafts from the bombed and burning foundries, a rogue Sith Lord thuds to his knees, his muscles straining against the cybernetics embedded in his sickened flesh, as three battered Jedi close in around him.

“I should have known it wasn’t just a story,” rasps Malgus, his voice a shudder of static within the mask that seems to nearly consume the lower half of his face. “If anyone could destroy him… it was you.”

Caspian Serapis only glares at him, his own lungs heaving as he struggles not to sway beneath the wounds cut into him by Malgus’ lightsaber. He doesn’t need the Sith’s bizarre praise - not here, where he can still feel the dying gasps of CorSec militia and Green Jedi below. Not now, when his clothes are singed by Imperial blasterfire and his face is smeared with the ashes of his home.

His soot-stained hand curls more tightly around the hilt of his lightsaber, the green-gold blade humming readily at his side, should Malgus try to attack again. On the other side of the Sith, Tau Idair and Arn Peralun advance a few steps, menacing their enemy openly with their lightsabers of bright green and azure blue.

“No matter,” continues Malgus, a growl vibrating through his voice. He slides his gaze back over one shoulder, then the other; Cas can see every vein in his eyes, pulsing a sickly scarlet around the manic yellow of his irises. “I will not fail.”

Faster than Caspian’s exhausted reflexes can react, Malgus summons a last gasp of energy and slams at him through the Force. The Jedi is hurled away, tumbling towards the edge of the platform. He manages to catch himself a metre or so from the perilous drop, and though his body is begging him to stay down, to rest, he forces it onward, gritting his teeth as he scrambles up again.

Alarm stabs through him as he whips his attention around. Tau and Arn have been thrown back as well, both Jedi dazed and struggling to pick themselves up under the strain of their own injuries. And now Malgus is on his feet, towering, his eyes blazing like fevered brimstone within the dark hollows of their sockets.

“Your shipyard will crumble,” he vows, and his gaze turns to scorch Cas with terrible, maddened intent. “Your Republic will burn.” 

He lifts his tortured arms, organic and cybernetic hands stretching in unison, as though grasping in beseechment of a god who will not answer. Overhead, the massive generator that hangs beneath the dome of the spire begins to tremble.

As Malgus’ eyes bulge with the effort, Caspian’s own gaze flies wide with realisation.

“RUN!” he cries, as the Force shudders above him, and the weight of the generator groans under the Sith’s unrelenting pull.

[lacunasbalustrade]

Gao Mikado: never expecting any of the beauty that takes you by force, morning waves lapping against the shore of an Irish beach, the aroma of eggs sizzling with butter in a pan, touching someone's soft, cold hand and feeling the warmth transfer between you two like an iv line, sinking into a fluffy bed radiating warmth after a long day, putting your achy head on the table in class. you're so so tired all the time but you know somewhere in your heart that you'll never get these days back. you're making the best of them however you can, "i know you always do your best."

Noboru Kodo: sugar caramelising brown in an oven, waiting for someone until you get the sinking realisation that they stood you up, lazy rainy afternoons under a grey sky, sitting cross-legged with one knee up and being scolded by your mom for looking like a gangster, breathing the taste of minty fir sap in a cooling forest, in a dark room with someone's back to yours confessing every mistake both of you ever made, with embarrassed laughs. backing out of a convenience store queue because there are too many people, "if i could have been born with your courage life could've been so much easier."

Zanya Kisaragi: always on your toes for something that you can't quite understand why you expect, the same familiar street at twilight when everyone returns to their houses and turns on the lamps, the texture of green tea against your dry tongue, dipping your fingers into the swimming pool to check the temperature and feeling the warmth flee from your blood, waking up tangled in your bedspread, clicking noise from stapling paper together briskly. you have something to do later and you're looking forward to it, "you're an inspiration, okay?"

Jin Magatsu: waking up with an unstoppable headache. bumping into pointy cabinets and having to reach too far to grab your throbbing foot with two hands. the flavour of cotton candy melting on your face around your mouth. someone wipes it off for you with the back of their cardigan covered hand. blackberry-infused tea (coffee is for lowlifes), the best time you swear by is naptime on another tiring Monday after work, never quite judging but always perceptive of how those around you feel towards anything, good natured sarcasm, "tell me how I got this lucky again?"

Tetsuya Kurodake: the buzzing sound you get in your head when you've listened to your headphones on max volume for far too long, little packets of vitamin enhanced milk and the crinkly sound wrapping makes when you tear it off, bright cel shading on a hand-drawn animation sheet, forgetting to pick your clothes off the floor in the morning after you left them there last night, vacuuming dust from underneath your bed and nearly choking from the bunnies, maybe a little bit afraid of being inferior at the things you love, "promise me we'll still have tomorrow."

Raremaro Tafudonokimi: traditional kimono. perfectly arranged bouquets, tissue flowers, expensive art that was made by some amateur on eBay. watching run-of-the-mill animation and trying to think of deeper meaning behind it. playing an instrument so badly birds drop from the trees. a gentle late afternoon, even so you complain about how hot it is. small yapping dogs, feeding breadcrumbs to the pigeons, not really sure if anyone looks up to you despite how hard you try, always bluffing your way out of real challenges, "you know, you're not such a bad presence after all."

Kanata Ozora: switching on the stove. it's too hot to stay in your blanket fort although all your air conditioners are on, so you crawl out on your hands and knees only for all the pillows to come crashing down. the way oatmeal slides down your throat like a raw egg. rain off fresh leaves smells so good that you have ten planters on your kitchen window ledge. mini bonsai trees. not really knowing what makes someone so beautiful but wanting to keep them anyways, forever. "why are you so afraid of yourself? you're so much more than i could ever have hoped for!"

Shosetsu Kirisame: stoic apologies. clean washing folded neatly, the warmth of clothes after they come out from the machine, misty showers with wet floors. In the daylight around nine, it's so peaceful and quiet, just the ideal time to get into some studying. open windows, no emoticons ever, the way air tastes in your lungs when you inhale really deep, how satisfying it feels to squirt toothpaste onto the bristles, looking back and wishing you could slap your self-centred egoistic teen self. "if i could do life over again, there are a lot of things I'd change. but I'd never change you."

Keisetsu: chilled pillows against your head. folding your hands behind your back and crossing your fingers. danger at every streetlight (but at least you know it's coming), that moment in the dead of night when you bolt upright panting and not knowing what woke you. you've never had any dreams, awake or sleeping, except for wanting somewhere to belong to, somewhere you can be an irreplaceable part of a world. team player at heart. pastel macarons in between your teeth, cherry sauce scent, ozone depletion under your belt, "i'm hopeless. can't even make you want me."

Shusui Kanehebi: breakdancing and rap music with terrible lyrics and too many curse words. pessimistic social media messages, gulping down fruit smoothies in one go, the taste of adrenaline in your throat when you smell the hunt on the wind. calling someone close to you eight times is a daily routine just for laughs and more often than not they block you until you apologize through a mutual. waking up sleepily and walking into your own bathroom door; your roommate screams at you to keep quiet or die by their blade. "maybe i can live with me, but you sure can't, you're too dang perfect."

Sakate Onagashira: museum dates. it's always been second nature to wait for someone else at the bus stop, but you're still single up till now. late night when you're being kicked out of yet another party - where did you take the forked road? There's no specific moment you can trace it back to, maybe you were just meant to be this way whether you wanted to or not. pepper fried rice smells hella good. peeling open durians and pineapples with your bare hands just to show you can, shivering when it gets even slightly cool out, "there's nothing i have for you, don't even try."

Kemura: never seems to be listening but always remembers everything, is the one who pets the elephant in the room whilst everyone ignores it. self-destructive kindness is a thing? actually listens to all those ads instead of skipping past them. 3 am and visiting the nearby food market for snacks before realising that it's closed, you've been playing video games too long. Plays Pokémon Go, keeps potted plants in your room but they keep wilting and you don't know what to do at all. surprisingly good at handicrafts although you might seem clumsy - "Kemura will do his very best!"

Gaito Kurouzu: trying too hard to seem unbreakable. reads latin during lunch break. never wonders why, only wonders how. throws tantrums like an excellent five year old. has a master's degree in planning documents and arranging their calendar, likes chocolate cake but not the low-sugar ones with less butter. the freshly baked pie smell only top-tier bakers can achieve, burst of peeled oranges as you bite through the skin, citrusy detergent on hands, cloudy nights as you wander around the corner for an errand, "don't you dare sneak off without telling me."

Kyoya Gaen: glass windows that you could fall through if you leant hard enough, little lies that you don't mind anymore. love that you deny everyday by acting cruel to it, as if that'll ever change anything. the sound of the door lock clicking behind you (which side are you on?), gentle somber dust against your skin like specks of glitter, scent of moth-eaten paintings, excruciatingly simple pencil sketches, neutralising the things you don't like by not giving them recognition, the childish confidence most of us lost a long while ago, dead sunsets, "maybe we could have worked out in a different universe, 'name'."

Kiri Hyoryu: scarves tucked tightly around your shaking hands. the sharp bite of cinnamon's aroma that brings a pop of colour, humid windy days when you can't see straight for the hair in your eyes but there's always, always someone who grabs your hand and takes you straight where you need to be. soft white cheese against good bread as you chew, making New Year's mochi and Lunar Month mooncakes by hand (the flour dust against your skin), meeting someone you know well after a while and realising somehow you've only become closer, petting cafes, "how did you find me?"

Rouga Aragami: unshakeable confidence; no hesitation. The darkness of the resting warmth in the night sky, jazz tunes in a dark bar, aeroplanes crossing the sky in their white trails like map lines, no drifting just swimming, chewing meat and ripping it straight from the bone, being the shoulder that someone else leans on as tears roll down their face (however silent or loud they sob, it doesn't matter to you), the sound of milk as it's poured into a glass, forehead against another forehead as you whisper-promise to them that it will work out, climbing a tree and realising that you can't get down, "i won't give up on you, no matter how many times you ask me to."

Tasuku Ryuenji: running in the rain as the wind blows droplets straight into your eyes. you're going in the wrong direction but what does that matter? unease. you constantly don't know what to do with yourself. bread rising in the oven and burning away, smoldering quietly. smell the rich coffee from the cold vending machine as you pop open another cup. falling asleep besides a stuffed animal, its fur is clumped together after a long period of usage. falling for the feeling that you've finally become more than just useful to someone, to anyone, you are loved, "i think that family is something you put in front of the world; you are my everything."

[momota-kaiharem]

hello! i’m not dead!!!! big gasping fish breath

in honour of maki day here are some kaimaki headcanons :) wowie

- ive posted this before i think but maki for sure is a little spoon. 100%. let her have this. i know we like the girlboss but look at this girl and tell me she doesn’t want to be spooned. and she deserves it! but sometimes she will jetpack kaito as a special treat

- i think they switch turns cooking. maki’s more technically competent like with a knife and stuff but kaito likes doing it more. he’ll put on music and sing while he cooks. usually they bake together. kaito always starts some kind of flour fight. maki never initiates but she also never loses (unless kaito tickles her which is cheating)

- maki can b very touch averse when she is panicking. enough to snap or even lash out if kaito overwhelms her. after the first time he starts asking if he can touch her. sometimez it helps maki ground herself when he gives her his hands to hold or touches her face. but she needs the warning first. she trusts him

- kaito’s a big touch guy tho. maki is a little out of her depth at first. he starts panicking and he immediately needs her to hold him and rub his back to calm him down. maki has some experience from the orphanage but she doesn’t always know how to use it or if it applies. in the moment she’ll just kind of put her arms around him and talk him through it. always feels like she’s fumbling. kaito appreciates how grounded she is in those moments even if she isn’t always sure how to navigate it

- she’s good at helping him recover from like a phantom cough or something postgame too. she’ll hold him loosely so he doesn’t feel constricted and then talk him through his breathing until his throat stops spasming :)

- maki sometimes has nightmares postgame… often about the torture she endured as an assassin but often about losing kaito too. just hearing his voice brings her out of it bc she knows he’s there and that means it’s over.

- fluff. shit. okay. maki’s loved gifts are all space related aside from the love hotel key. that fact drives me CRAZY. i like 2 think about her getting into space because of kaito and looking into a lot of the terms and stuff to talk to him about. she likes to be able to contribute. they go to planetarium shows and stuff. kaito buys her space print things and she likes them bc they remind her of him

- they’re that really strong and hot couple you know. you know that one. maki can do pullups with kaito hanging on her back. kaito will do pushups with her on his. shuichi hates them

- i think they have a playful banter but i don’t agree with people who think they’d fight or bicker a lot. maki teases him and kaito teases her back. but it’s more like maki pokes fun at his more silly qualities and kaito calls her cute and stuff to get a reaction out of her. whenever they go off they’re always having fun

- like to think about maki yelling at people who belittle and insult kaito’s intelligence once she realises how insecure it makes him. she’s never trying to hurt him when she says it and i think once she figures out how it affects him she’d lay off and snap at other people who don’t. kaito’s just happy she thinks he’s smart all the extra stuff is like. wow…

- kaito loves to play with maki’s hair. he’ll just mess with it. her bangs and stuff. maki’s tolerant of him bc secretly she really likes it but she always teases him when he starts braiding her hair or something and kaito grumbles at her before kissing her on the head

- kaito the kind of guy to give maki his jacket and let her keep it for a while. the space coat is too important for him to actually just give to her to keep but he loans her hoodies and other coats and forgets about them. maki has a little stockpile. kaito has too many coats

- she for sure wears his clothes. they’re loose and they smell like him and kaito told her she looked cute the first time so. his shirts. coats. things kaito forgot about but likes on her. maki jokes sometimes that he’d give her his whole wardrobe if he doesn’t pay attention and kaito just gives a big ol smiiile

- kaito knits for her too. new scrunchies and hats and scarves. gloves. stuff to stay warm. maki doesn’t even have bad cold tolerance but he always piles her in stuff before they leave on a chilly day then goes out in like, a t-shirt. he’s silly

- kaito who gets sick a lot vs maki who’s the world’s best caretaker when ur sick. she’ll just sit with him through fever dreams and stuff. make him soup. smooth back his hair. kaito gets all delirious and affectionate and maki sighs but doesn’t gripe at him. he’s a sickboy she can be patient

- when maki gets sick theres always a lil bit of panic that comes with that. because being sick in her business is bad news for her and the orphanage. kaito is so steady the whole time. he’ll call off work and hang out with her the full day, stroking her hair and grabbing her everything she needs. even if she can get it herself lol

- they for sure buy matching dresses and skirts and stuff. kaitos bashful about it at first because he has a bit of Masculine Shame but maki doesn’t see the big deal. and that helps. kaito is reassured by how blasé she is and every time he wears something pretty she gets all flustered and sputters that he looks nice after looking like she wants to eat her face and that helps too. it makes him laugh and maki is like oh i’ll get you but she won’t. she loves him

- kaito is so cuddly. maki doesn’t initiate a lot but she doesn’t need to. he’ll come home and perch himself at his side. just melt into her. wherever she is like the couch the bed the kitchen. just curl up on her. like a big teddy bear. maki will take her hand off what shes doing and hold him if she can. he’s a big pda guy too. kissing her on the head or forehead or hand or just melting into her while she’s having a conversation. recharging

- maki’s shy about it… but she’ll initiate occasionally. sometimes when she’s upset she’ll tug his sleeve and kaito will take her into his lap. or when Kaito is upset she’ll wrap him up in her arms. it’s harder for him to ask for touch when he’s hurting and maki will respond by being more assertive about it. parent friend instinct

- kaito treats her like a princesssss breakfast in bed kissing the hand telling her how beautiful she is. it is so much. maki is not used to love at all and kaito loves with a fierceness. its good though. she loves it and he loves doing it. maki likes to pamper her too when he’ll let her, massaging his back and giving him head scritches and making him comfort foods.

- i like them to bathe together too. not as a sexual thing. but they’ll wash each other’s hair and back. kaito will give himself a shampoo moustache and ask maki if he should grow a real one and maki will tell him he shouldn’t and spray him with the shower head. they can’t do it too much bc they always end up letting the water run while they stand close together. unreal

heh. that’s what i got for today… but i could keep going….. :3 happy birthday maki my dear maki

[nyaqtn]

ദ്ദി ˉ͈̀꒳ˉ͈́ ) 13/4/2024; [10:34 pm]

i had a really nice day today, it was exactly what i needed.

first of all.. it was sooOOOOoo nice out.. the temperature was perfeeccttt - not too hot and not too cool, the kind of weather that makes you wish the day would go on for ever ...... ...

as soon as spring starts, my dad and i like to go on motorbike trips. we dont really have the intention of going to certain destinations, he just drives through places nearby (i live in the mountains so theres a lot to explore around here hehe) and i sit on the backseat of the bike, my headphones in and lose myself daydreaming while enjoying the scenery.. despite being a city-person, i really love it here and i just feel at home :3

ive had lots of time to think today so i have many things to talk about hehhehe

oh i also rode my bike today !!! just to check if it still works.. and it does, very well ´͈ ᵕ `͈

one thing that i really really want are rollerskates . i want to go rollerskating with my boyfriend SOOOSO badly.. i bet it would be sooo much fun..

ever since i was little i had this plan concerning getting my licence. the school im currently attending (a fashion school... been my dream since i was in elementary school..) consist of five grades - so to say it takes 5 years to complete, meaning i would be 19 when i graduate. i always had this plan of getting my licence once i gratuated since it would be less stressful... but now... im considering getting it next summer... my grandpa put some money aside when i was little and i will get it once i turn 18 (this november!!) .... i could invest that money into a car... ive been dreaming of owning a white fiat 500 for years.... i will see !!!!!

one thing i like about myself is that i dont need a fixed plan for everything. i love to just live in the moment and do whatever feels right whenever it feels right, this way of thinking has often helped me make my life less complicated and to live in the moment more often.. fufufufu

i ordered lots of clothes this week and im sooo looking forward to trying them on :D i also have a hairdresser appointment this week... and my boyfriend and i ordered skincare which should arrive in the near future aswell hehe

life has been getting better recently and ive come to many realisations that have helped strive into that direction.. i feel like myself again and am not on the verge of despair (specifically when it comes to school..)

i could go on talking for hours and hours but i think this entry is long enough.... hihi

[bkafkab]

obviously ive never been in love, ive just experienced or seen glimpses of it from faraway lol as people around me tell yeah this is good or this is the right step or yk as i stumble my to create something close to resembling what is natural for other people but honestly it is all so fucking hard man. i could do or try to do so many things correct and then yk yeah doing that does not means anything, that is 1ncel talk and stuff or whatever you do this for yourself but that is stupid lol. i dont do anything for myself, it is all for her. yk maybe liking this songs will make me likeable for her, maybe buying better clothes, maybe this or that or whatever. who the fuck cares.

anyway, what i really wanted this to be about was talk about how selfish love makes you to be man. you start off as mutuals, interaction is cool, you are happy with a reply or a like or whatever. then you become friends and yk you are happy to be trusted enough to hear about her ex or when she fights with him or makeouts with him or goes out with someone else. maybe you tell yourself yeah we can be friends maybe im just starved of women friends or something and im just stupid lol. i remember telling her in our very initial chats only how she is someone i would have asked out if she lived in the same city as me and she just brushed that aside and never realised it lol but that hurt then and that is something i remember now. anyways, then you get closer but you want more of her time, more of her energy, more of her music, more of her personality, her jokes, more of her baggage you get jealous you get annoyed you have your feelings controlled by how and when she replies, how much too. but the greed does not stops. more and more and more of everything man. why are you replying to that guy mutual, why are you liking that hot guys tweets, i could kill myself by going on with countless examples like this. you just want her to yourself all the time, you want her secrets, how her day went everything. i wish she loved me man, i really do. i wish she just wanted me. i check her replies sometimes to see who all she has been replying to and im happy when it is just me lol. delusional fucktard. now everyone knows you have made a fool of yourself again, maybe that made you happy ig eh. so many mutuals know you want her so much you ruin each and everyday for her. i see a cute tweet and thing about her, i think of a cool tweet and that is about her. everything is. i would travel 3 hours easily for her man. why the fuck do i need a tumblr or a spam twitter really. i also dont want to be stupid but i think g genuinely had a crush on me but all i did was speak about her man.

[peakyswritings]

Sham || Part III

Tommy Shelby x OC

Part I Part II Part IV Part V Part VI Part VII Final Part

Whatever they had before France was over the moment he stepped on that train. Whatever they had after Grace left for New York was consolation. And their marriage was a sham.

Summary: As Helen seems to have made up her mind, Tommy realises that he needs to try everything to keep her by his side, even though it means wearing his heart on his sleeve, showing his most vulnerable side.

Warnings: drinking, smoking, mentions of sex (nothing too graphic), angst

A/N: Hi guys! I’m sorry it took so long to update, but university is killing me. Also, this series is set between season three and four, so after Arthur, John, Michael and Polly return from jail, but before the Italians. Basically during the time (I think it was two years, but I’m not sure) Tommy doesn’t speak with his family

The gif is not mine, credits to the owner

The Garrison, 1919

The pub was full, that night. A crowd of men gathered around the stools, while a group of veterans drunkenly sang some old song in the back of the room.

It was odd, Tommy didn’t allow singing. Everybody knew and nobody would’ve dared to go against his will. But the thing didn’t seem to bother him at all as he leaned against the counter, smiling at something Grace had said.

“Are you upset?” Polly asked her, resting with her back against the chair of the small table they were sitting at.

“Why would I?”

“Because something happened, between you. Before France.”

Helen quickly turned her head toward the older woman, glancing at her. “How do you know?”

“I always know.” She replied with a knowing smirk as she took a drag from her cigarette.

“It doesn’t matter now.” She shook her head, finishing the drink in her glass. “It’s over.”

And it was, at least for Tommy; but Helen couldn’t forget the night before he left for the front, the night that changed everything, that put an end to their friendship, leaving space for something more.

She could still remember how his soft lips felt against hers, how his hands started roaming on her body, how his hot breath tingled down her neck as he whispered in her ear.

She could still remember trembling hands taking off each other’s clothes, eager eyes silently asking for permission.

He was sweet, and gentle, and caring. He made her feel loved and wanted. And beautiful.

My girlfriend, he called her, as he ran his hand through her hair while she laid with her head on his chest.

But he didn’t call her his girlfriend, when he came back, nor did he act like she was. Tommy seemed to have shut the door on what happened that night, without the slightest explanation. Too many things were left unsaid.

Maybe he didn’t mean that, when he said he loved her. Maybe he just said that because he was sure that he would die in the trenches. He had said a lot of things. Maybe he didn’t even remember them.

And now there he was, whispering something in that barmaid’s ear, looking at her the same way he used to look at Helen.

“You’re in love with him.”

Polly took one last drag before putting out her cigarette, watching as the girl in front of her avoided her eyes. She took her silence as a confirmation. “I pity you. You deserve better.”

Deep down, Helen knew she did. She deserved better than lies, than secrets, than unspoken words and unanswered letters.

Four years. He had been four years in France, and all she received was one letter. She wrote to him at least once a month, when she worked in the field hospital, under the sympathetic gaze of the other nurses, who were sure that “her soldier” was probably dead.

But that one letter gave her hope. Hope for a better future, for a better life, for better times.

And she was ashamed to admit that she still kept it. It was in her favourite book, under the flower he had given her in the summer of 1908. Helen opened that book again, when she went home, as if she wanted to make sure that they were still there. She carefully placed the pressed daisy on her desk, before taking the sheet of paper in her hand. She had almost forgot how messy Tommy’s handwriting was.

She could feel all the suffering and confusion that transpired from his words. He had probably written it quickly, his mind working faster than his hand.

My Dear Helen,

I’ve been underground for three months now. I can’t even remember how the sun feels on my face, or how the stars look. Do you remember when we used to count them, sitting in Charlie’s Yard? It seems like another life. I miss those moments.

I miss throwing rocks at your window just to spend the whole night talking on your rooftop, drinking that awful beer that I stole from Polly’s cabinet. Do you remember when your father almost caught us?

And I miss your perfume, some nights I can almost smell it. Do you still wear it?

I love you, Helen. I should have been braver, I should have told you years ago.

I’m going to marry you. If I ever come back, I’m marrying you. Do you remember our deal? I haven’t forgotten about it. I’ll make us happy. I promise.

Arrow House, 1925

“A divorce is out of the question, Helen.” Tommy argued with a firm voice, slamming his empty glass on the table.

“I’m not asking you, Thomas. I’m telling you.”

“You marry a Shelby, you stay fucking married.” He spat out, pointing a finger at her.

“But you can’t force me to stay here, can you?”

“I wouldn’t be so certain.” He retorted, raising his eyebrows, the slight tremble in his voice leaking out his nervousness.

“What are you going to do? Lock me in a room, put one of your men to guard the door?” She scoffed.

He clenched his jaw, walking closer to her. “Listen,” he stopped in front of her, his expression softening as she looked up at him. “You’re the only family I have left. John, Arthur, Polly… they hate me, Helen. I need you by my side.”

He desperately took her face in his hands, looking her in the eyes. “I need you.”

Helen brought her hands on his wrists, slowly caressing them. She closed her eyes for a moment, before moving his hands away. “Stop.” She desperately whispered, knowing that it wouldn’t take much for her to give up, again.

“What about Charlie? He needs you-”

“Don’t bring Charlie into this.” She harshly interrupted him. “Don’t use him as a weapon.”

“Then do it for me. Stay for me.”

“Tommy, I’m asking you not to be selfish. Just for once.” She begged him, holding back her tears. “If you can’t love me, let me go.”

He stayed silent for a while, just staring at her, and he found himself wondering how he could mess up so much that the one person whom he had cared about all of his life thought that he didn’t love her.

“Look,” he said all of a sudden, quickly walking towards one of the cabinets. He took a box out of it and placed it on the desk.

Helen took a few steps forward, looking at the box with a confused look on her face as he opened it. It was full of letters. He grabbed a few of them, lightly shaking them in front of him.

“All the letters you sent me when I was in France.”

She opened her mouth to say something, but she couldn’t utter a word. Until then, she had even doubted that he had ever read them.

“I still keep all of them. I’ve read them at least a thousand times. I know them all by heart.” He stated, putting them back in the box. “And this,” he continued, taking a wrinkled picture out of the same container. “This is what stopped me from giving up in the trenches.”

She blinked a few times. It was her picture. She didn’t even know he had it.

“When the night came and all I could hear was noise, and cries and screams, I looked at this.”

Tommy looked her right in the eyes, not caring about how vulnerable he looked as he openly talked to her about his feelings for her for the first time in years. “And when you told me you had volunteered as a nurse, that you were going to be sent off to some godforsaken place… Do you have any idea of how fucking scared I was? Of the terror I felt when your letters were late to arrive?” He raised his voice, as if that dread was rising to the surface again after being pushed back for too long.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” She whispered, feeling her eyes watering.

“It wouldn’t have made any difference.”

“It would.”

He sighed, letting himself fall on the chair. He rested with his elbows on his knees, staring at the wall.

“I’m losing you, aren’t I?” He asked her as a bitter, sad smile made its way on his face. “For real, this time.”

Helen shook her head, the lump in her throat growing as that new awareness made it even harder to say the words she wanted to say.

“You already lost me.”

-

Tag list: @arwyn-the-cyrptic-bisexural @iamngoclinh08 @lilywinchesterlove @fandom-puff @capitanostella @caelys @lucillethings @peakyxtommy @queenofkings1212 @lyarr24

“Sham” tag list: @kitsnoopy @myjumper @onlydeadcells @ohshititsfenharel @literishdegree99 @a-dorkier-book-keeper @pulisvertz @notalxx @queenofkings1212 @leftdonuteaglepeach @inocrazeh @julietsecretjournal @lyarr24 @sleepyisy @ivegotparticulartaste

[becauseicantthinkwritings]

hi so ive been feeling like absolute shit lately/constantly crying and id just like to request a soft!werewolf billy, take this however you want just something soft and caring pls

i love your writing sm x

Say less baby, I gotchu

Keep Me Warm

A werewolf!Billy Russo comfort story.

You're buried layers deep in blankets when Billy finally finds you. His nose twitches, frowning at the acrid scent of despair permeating your apartment. He doesn't say anything, nosing his way under each layer, until he finally comes upon you. His heart cracks at your red, watery eyes. You've got a box of tissues beside you and one pressed to your nose.

"Baby?" He asks soothingly, "Did something happen?"

He watches you sniffle and shake your head.

"Too much, too many things, want it to stop, Billy. Please, make it stop."

Billy nods in understanding.

"How about some self care? A bath? A meal?"

You hiccup a sob.

"You don't have to do that for me. I don't deserve-"

You break out into tears, and he leans closer to press his face to yours. He pulls your shirt to the side and places his lips to your mark soothingly, hoping to encourage you to relax.

"Shh, shh shh shhh, princess, you're alright, I've got you. That's it," he kisses your mark again, "deep breaths."

When you stop crying, he pulls back to smile at you.

"Take a bath with me?"

You think for a moment before nodding. He grins and pulls away.

You can hear him moving about, starting to fill the large tub he'd gifted you last year. You hear all sorts of shuffling, the click of a lighter, the shake of what you assume are bath salts, among other noises.

When he finally noses back into your cocoon, he's smiling excitedly.

"Ready?" He says raising the blankets a little. You mewl in protest.

"The light-"

"No light, princess, I made it dark for you."

He peels the blankets off your skin and you're comforted to find that your room is dark. He'd tossed thick blankets over your windows to stop the light from coming in. He'd also lit a few candles so that you could see everything well enough not to bump into it.

"So beautiful, princess, why don't you get in, I made sure the water is nice and warm for you."

Your stomach flips, and you smile. He's decorated the area to make it as soothing as possible, even going as far as to have a glass of wine poured for you. You almost choke up at the thought of such a powerful man, doting on insignificant, you.

You strip slowly and get it, loving the warm water on your skin. He's entering the room a few moments later.

"Thank you, Billy." You say, smiling up at him.

He kisses you on the forehead.

"Want me with you? You can say no, I'll sit right here, or i can get lost if you want-"

You shake your head.

"With me." You say simply, and you watch as he tugs his clothes off in one sweep, dipping in behind you and pulling your body back onto his.

You stiffen as you feel his erection on your behind.

"Ignore him, he doesn't know how to read a room."

It's the first genuine laugh you make in a while, and Billy can't help but laugh with you.

"Seriously, I've gotten some awkward boners. One time, i got hard in the barracks, and everyone thought I was into the captain, which was insane because he's not even that hot."

You giggle again, resting your cheek against his chest.

"Another time, we were mid exercise, and I had to use my gun to cover my dick and Frank was laughing at me."

You feel his chin rest on your head and with his arms and the warm water around you, you think this is better than any depression burrito you could have made.

You both stay there for a while, in the darkness and heat of the tub in silence, until the water chills and you let out a small shiver.

He helps you out, and wraps you in a robe, before scooping you up like you weigh nothing. You sigh in bliss as he places you down on what you realise is a fresh mound of sheets.

"Sorry, yeah, changed your sheets. Old ones smelt like sad."

You smile up at him as he helps you dry off and dresses you. He gets himself a shirt and a pair of boxers and slides into his side of the bed beside you. His arms pull you snug to his warm body, he presses his nose to your mark.

"I love you so fucking much, princess. I'll always be here."

He kisses your mark.

"When you're up to it, we can go get some food. But right now, i just want to hold you."

Your mouth curves up, and you turn toward him to kiss his mark, a low rumble leaving his chest.

You could maybe get used to this.

[tarosin]

the great adventures of y/n tommy jack and tubbo

requested: yes/no

an: part 4 of the great adventures series

pairing: platonic y/n/tommy/jack/tubbo

warning: cursing

It was the afternoon before your new adventure with your friends. you had no idea what to expect, however everyone else knew even ranboo, and he wasn’t even joining you all. you would be lying if you said you weren’t nervous, especially after hearing some of tommys plans for future uploads. tubbo had been trying to drop hints about what was going to happen. You honestly couldn’t tell if he was excited or nervous, either way you could tell it was going to be a once in a lifetime opportunity and boy were you excited. the sound of knocking pulled you from your thoughts.

“hi y/n! sorry for the unexpected visit, i tried to call you but it wouldn’t go through.”

“oh god sorry, tubbo, my phones on charge upstairs, ive just finished babysitting my friends twitch chat.”

“that’s okay, tommy wanted me to see if you want to stay the night as i can take you with me now. he said something about it saving time tomorrow as jack won’t have to go as far and we can get there earlier, i honestly just think he’s slightly nervous and wants to spend time with someone.”

“i’ve not prepared a bag or anything as i was just planning on grabbing everything i needed in the morning, but i’m down to go with you. i’ll pack a bag real quick, make yourself feel at home. you can stay down here or come upstairs with me.”

tubbo followed you upstairs, and helped you pick which outfits would be the best to wear for the trip. around 10 minutes later you finished packing your bag and turned around to see a very pale tubbo, dropping your bag to the floor you pulled a chair up to your bed sitting opposite him.

“you feeling okay tubs?”

“just nerves, I'll be alright, are you ready to go?”

“ready if you are!”

the journey to tommys was relatively quick, you spent it talking about group plans for when ranboo comes to the uk.

tubbo: almost here!

tommy: yes! want to stream for a bit later, just something small could do laugh and the stream ends. i’ll go talk to my mum now!

•••

tubbo: please open the door

tommy: on it

the pair of you stood at the door waiting for tommy to unlock it

“TUBBO! Y/N I'M GLAD YOU COULD BOTH MAKE IT!”

not too long later, you and tubbo had put everything away and sat with tommy planning out a small stream.

“so i was talking with my parents and we can do an outside stream, and set fire to marshmallows!”

“as much as i love fire tommy i don’t think your parents will appreciate arson in the garden.”

“it’ll be fine now grab a jacket, we need to go walk to the shop.”

the three of you set off determined to get to the shop and back before it got dark, tommy and tubbo walked on either side of you as they want you to feel safe. thankfully the shop was only around the corner so you were all only out for about 20 minutes maximum, you probably could have made it back earlier but you stopped every time you saw a pretty rock.

“y/n come on we still need to stream!”

“did you tweet that you were streaming?”

“no he didn’t.”

“then come and look at this pretty rock!”

tommy and tubbo couldn’t help but laugh at how many rocks you managed to pick up.

•••

“guys i think i’d rather just spend time with you all rather than stream.”

“that’s fine, tommy!!”

the three of you sat around the fire updating one another about plans and opportunitie, coming. the conversation swiftly came to an end when tommy had set fire to a stick claiming it was to make the fire grow. you laughed as you heard his mum yelling at him to stop trying to set you and tubbo on fire.

“sorry about that everyone, but look the fire is big again.”

it got colder as the sun went down, so the three of you sat with a blanket draped over you all. his mum offered to take photos for you and you happily accepted, the pictures looked amazing and you posted it to instagram with the caption ‘i am cold and no one is telling me what’s happening tomorrow.’

it was around 11pm when the three of you agreed it was time to go back inside and sleep.

•••

you and tubbo stayed downstairs and tommy stayed in his room. the sound of tubbos alarm woke the pair of you up.

“turn that fucking thing off!”

“this is the fourth time it’s gone off and you’re still not up?”

“that’s because i’m tired.”

“please get ready jack will be here soon enough.”

realisation finally hit today was the day you were finally about to find out what this once in a lifetime opportunity was. tubbo advised you to wear sensible clothing and not wear the zodiac necklace you always wore, so you decided to wear the hoodie ranboo sent you a week ago and leggings.

“y/n you might wanna tie your hair up.”

“tubbo are you sure you’re feeling okay? you genuinely look ill."

“i’m fine.”

jack: right i’m outside so whenever you’re ready

lani: we’re making our own way later on as the hotel we stayed at is closer

y/n: will someone tell me what we’re doing

ranboo: no

y/n: you’re not even joining us how did you get in the gc

ranboo: magic

y/n: fuck off give me a clue

ranboo: i’ve said it since you dyed your hair neon f/c you’d be able to see from way up in the sky

y/n: what the actual hell is that supposed to mean

•••

soon enough you met up with everyone else and lani started recording.

“we’re skydiving, you ready tubbo?”

“WERE DOING WHAT? HOLY SHIT!”

you honestly couldn’t wait to do this. it was something you had wanted to do for a while, tubbo on the other hand clearly didn’t agree, which was evident through his whining.

you stood with tommy laughing as tubbo sat alone questioning why he agreed to this.

“look at him.”

“he’s is not happy.”

you sat next to jack and tubbo watching the video demonstrating what you will all be doing soon. you let out a nervous laugh, as although you were excited, you couldn’t help but be a bit nervous.

“you could fall into the engine and get chopped up.”

“tommy stop scaring tubbo!”

“what if the parachute doesn’t work?”

“free fall to your death.”

“y/n you’re not helping!”

you stood recording tubbo laying on the floor once again whining.

“tubbo there are so many people behind you!”

“i’m sure the parachute won’t fail tubbo, but if it does it was lovely knowing you!”

“uuuuuuugh!”

“i fully agree bo.”

soon enough you tommy and jack joined tubbo on the floor.

“look at the clouds.”

“we’re going to be in them soon.”

“hell yeah!”

“ughhhh!”

you tried not to laugh trying to calm tubbo down a bit before you all jumped out a plane, which worked until you left him alone with tommy whilst you spoke to jack for a while.

“to be fair that looks quite fun.”

“and dangerous!”

“STOP!”

“well sounds like tubbos thrilled to be here.”

the four of you sat on a bench talking about what’s going to happen, and laughing at tubbos nerves trying to make light of the situation.

“look it’ll be fun, tubbo, provided we don’t die there’s a chance we’ll be in more vlogs.. okay so ignore the black cloud of smoke!”

“that’s not a good omen.”

“shut up!”

you wrapped an arm around tubbo trying to make him feel comfortable and reassure him it’ll be fine, only to be interrupted by jack and tommy bickering about eating before jumping from the plane.

•••

the four of you went to the briefing, at this point you were struggling to contain your excitement, and couldn’t help but laugh out of pure joy.

“no, they are listening, they're just excited.”

after doing training for the jump, you stood with tommy whilst someone questioned him about how he got 9 million subs.

“I just went around being incredibly cool.. doing minecraft.”

you and jack burst out laughing whilst tommy went on to make jokes about how much money he was earning.

•••

it was now almost time to jump out a plane. it was around now nerves were kicking in, so you all went around messing about till you were told it’s time to make your way to get ready.

“let’s go gamers!”

•••

“are you a skydiver enjoyer?”

“i am.”

“well that’s always good... please, don’t let me die!”

“y/n are you scared?”

“no, my ranboo merch will protect me, but if i die can we blame tommy for coming up with this?”

“ranboos not going to believe that you’re wearing the jumper he sent you to jump out a plane.”

a few minutes later you over heard a worker say they’re nervous causing you to tilt your head and blink again, trying to process what was said.

“heh???”

it was now time for the four of you to put the equipment on, so you were ready to jump. jack started talking a lot more than usual at a quicker pace due to the fact he was getting nervous. tommy pointed it out and jack trying to argue he wasn’t made you laugh.

“y/n keeps making a lot of jokes about my parachute being shit.”

“sorry manifold should be fine...more than likely...hopefully. only time will tell really.”

“how you doing buddy?”

“i’m feeling okay. i feel my insides doing inside bits.”

“wonderful!”

you were now all waiting to go as a worker jokes about forgetting something.

“y/n you’re going with him!”

“okay, but why?”

“well you said your ranboo merch will protect you..”

someone went by going rather fast causing you to stare in awe.

“we don’t go that fast, do we?”

“no not unless something goes terribly wrong.”

you all stood there laughing.

“stoppppp!”

“y/n, i’m now thinking you should go with them instead!”

“are you trying to kill me off jack?”

•••

you all set off towards the plane, a mixture of excitement and nerves began kicking in.

“tubbos on a lead.”

“oh i’m really nervous jack.”

“look at y/n!”

lani began to record you, who was now way ahead of the others, so you stopped and waved at lani.

“BYE LANI! HOPEFULLY ILL SEE YOU ON THE OTHER SIDE!”

the others caught up and everyone had their equipment checked again.

“oh dear.. should be fine.”

“i’m alright, don’t worry my ranboo merch will protect us!” you got on first and that when you realised they set you up, so you jumped last as you were more confident and tubbo was jumping first so he could get it out the way.

you all sat on the plane and waved at the camera.

“hi there!”

“hello!”

“hi!”

“please don’t let us die!”

“we’re really jumping out a plane with a dream stan.”

“this is the highest we’ve ever been.”

“gamers in a plane whatever will they do...hopefully not die!”

“Y/N!”

“sorry tubbo!”

you were currently at 2,000 feet and sat looking out the window waiting to reach 14,000 feet. jack turned to you and tommy, “i can’t believe you’re jumping out the plane in philza merch and y/ns jumping out in ranboo merch.”

“if i die at least ill look great doing it.”

12,000 feet later it was now tubbos turn to jump, he looked back at you all.

“YOU GOT THIS TUBBO!!”

you watched as tubbo went.

“GOOD LUCK TOMMY!”

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN GOOD LUCK? Y/N?”

“BYEEEEE!”

you laughed as tommy went.

“see you later jack!”

you gave jack a high-five and watched as he went.

“holy shit they actually did it!”

“are you ready, y/n?”

“hell yeah, let’s do this!”

you laughed as you jumped, you couldn’t believe you actually got to jump out of a plane, you waved at camera.

lani met the others as they landed and began telling them about it.

“wait where’s y/n?”

“there they are!”

“Y/N!”

the others ran up to you as you landed.

“i’m glad you didn’t die!”

“thanks jack!”

•••

“would you all do it again?”

“yeah.”

“no.”

“maybe, i’m not sure.”

“i reckon so.”

not too long later, you were all given certificates to celebrate the fact you had jumped out a plane.

“yay it made nearly dying worth it!”

“you’re so dramatic!”

•••

you thought the day was over and that you were going home, little did you know that wasn’t the case.

“were not done for the day.”

“what?”

“heh?”

“you’re tilting your head again.”

“i know it’s because i’m confused!”

“anyway, what do you mean we’re not done?”

“you know george, he’s arrived!”

“gogy!”

“GOGY!”

“can i have a nap in the car please? i’m so exhausted."

taglist:

@l0ver0fj0y

[alltoolewis]

30 with lando pls

"Ride me."- Lando Norris.

Summary- you and lando celebrate his highest placing poduim after you comfort his nerves before the Italian grand prix....

Words- 1808...

(Warnings- Alot of fluff & smut! 18+! You've been warned!)

------------------------------------

You couldn't believe how quickly it all flew by. It felt like just yesterday when you met him... you the new photographer for McLaren, who didn't have a clue about F1, moving away from everything you knew to travel round the world taking pictures of cars worth more than your credit card & him, the new rookie, who had so much confidence on the track but who had near to none when it came to speaking to women... until you came along & And now here you were... 3 years later, moved in together, traveling the world doing the thing both of you loved & what a better way than doing that together.

----

Your hands trembled just looking at him pacing the room,you could tell he was nervous.. I mean who wouldn't be, starting P3 in one of the most anticipated races of the calendar....

"Baby your making me dizzy" you giggled,slowly making your way over to him as he reaches for your clammy hand.

"Im sorry" he sighed, leaning into your touch as you pulled him closer "just nervous... I mean with all the pressure of me and danny starting up the grid & McLaren not having the season they hoped for, its just getting to me.. and you-" stopping himself, he looked deep into your eyes and for the first time you could see the panic and fear glossing his eyes like smoke...

"Im what baby?" You whispered, gently tracing your fingers though his newly combed locks, an action that you knew relaxed him...

"Your here..."

Confusion washed over you gently let go of him, taking a step back to watch his new fear wash over him..

"I can stay back here lando... if I'm the one making you nervous... I'm sure they wont mind me sitting out on this one, they have so many talented photographers, they won't miss m-"

Put of nowhere lando pulled you closer, locking your lips with his, taking all the unnecessary words out of your mouth.

"I'll miss you" lando mumbled against your lips, before pulling away pushing your forehead against yours...

"Your not the issue baby.. its just I know how dangerous this track is & I just don't want you to see anything that you shouldn't.... I couldn't cope with mysel-"

This time is was you to interrupt him, lifting up his chin to meet your.

"Lando I know the drill.... its not my first rodeo baby, every race is a dangerous one... I knew what I signed up for the minute I started falling in love with you & guess what... I dont regret one bit & you know why...?"

"Why?" He whispered, voice full of uncertainty.

"Because you.." you sighed, locking your lips with him again "are the best driver on that grid and you I've never been more proud of anything or anyone in my life.... your gonna be okay... and im gonna be right there for here for you, together forever eh?" You say, smirking as you see his face light up at your words, reaching out for your outstretched hand, locking your fingers as he repeated your words..

"Together forever"...

--------------

"How many more laps left??" You sighed, hands beginning to tremble as you looked at the monitor, lando dropping down to 6th after his pit.

"26" zac sighed as he sat next you, placing a hand on your knee "hes doing well you know.... he a supers-"

However zak never got to finish his praise as gasps fill the garage, looking up to see Max's car ontop of Lewis's. Heart skipping a beat as you realised just how close it was to being lando...

"I have to go- I... what if it was him.. he was so close to them he was only a second away... what if" you whispered all the possible scenerios as tear filled your eyes, causing zac to pull you closer...

"Listen... you can't live your life with what ifs (y/n).. it could of been him but guess what it wasn't andd look where he is know!" He smiles looking up at the monitor just as lando overtakes Charles, reaching p2.

"I mean you could leave... but Together forever I heard?" Zac smirks as he places a headset on your knee as he gets up to get back to his place... "just in case you want to pop in and check up on him... you stresshead"

As the lap count increased, so did your heart rate, as you seen lando still at p2 with 1 lap to go and a 2 second gap between him and perez. Hands hesitating to pick up the headset that remained on your knee like a safety blanket. Only picking it up as the mclaren garage erupts in applause, not only has lando picked up his highest ever poduim but Daniel won!

'Lets fucking go lads' lando screeches as you place the headset on, zac giving you a little nod, letting you know you can talk to him.

"Baby" you whisper through the mic, voice trembling with pride and emotion.

"(Y/n)!!! We did it! We fucking did it!!" Lando screams as he makes his way to the last corner..

"We lando?!? I didn't do anything but hid behind zac the whole time" causing lando to chuckle before the set goes dead and the garage yet again erupts... letting you know the mclarens have parked up.

Lando was the first one out, immediately running over to zac and the rest of the team, and although you could tell he was ecstatic, apart of you knew that he was gonna be disappointed about not getting p1... but he's a team player & at the end of the day thats all that matters.

After the hugs from the team, it was your turn to be pulled into your sweaty boyfriends arms, in the biggest bear hug you've ever been given.

"I'm sooo proud of you baby" you whisper, running your hand through is wet locks. Tears welling your eyes for what felt like the 50th time today.

"I love you so much" he screamed, picking your feet of the ground as he twirled you around, so fast you would of sworn he would of got the fastest lap!

"And by the way" he smirks, locking your lips with his "theres no me without you...."

However your sweet moment was inturpted as you get rudely pulled away from eachother by a certain ecstatic Australian....

"Alright love birds, plenty of that later" grabbing lando by the shoulders, pushing him towards the poduims "continue that later please, me and loverboy here have a shoey to do"

Your heart melts as you hear landos laugh, even from 10 meters away, but nothing made your race more than seeing him mouth the words anyone would dream about hearing.....

"Cant wait too rip them clothes off".....

And by lord did he keep his promise, not even being able to close the door before your 'mclaren 4' tshirt was pulled from your body.

"Ive been dying to do this from the moment I crossed that line" lando groaned as he pushed against the wall, using all his last energy, locking his lips with yours. Tounges fighting for dominance as he unhooks your bra, throwing it carelessly across the room.

Before you knew it you thrown on the bed, just as carelessly as your long forgotten bra.

"How the fuck did I get this lucky" lando moaned as he hovers over your already shaken body, eyes gazing over your bare body, filling with not only with lust but love....

Sitting up you, you lock your lips again....

"I should be saying that too you.." you mumble against his mouth, flipping your body ontop of his as your hands trace down his bare chest.

"Ahh taking in charge I see" he smirks, throwing his arms at the back of his head, as your unbutton his belt, seeing his hard cock push against the poorly made cotton.

"Only the best for my champion" you whisper, pulling down the last layer before getting to work. Lips locking over the tip, as you look straight in his eyes, making sure he can see the collection of pre-come of your tounge as it traces on his tip.

"Fuck doll..." lando wheezed as your hand goes up and down his shaft, his hands pulling your hair back as you take him deeper down your throat. His groans filling the room as your eyes welled up for a different reason this time as you feel his tip against the back of your throat, however you didnt have time to enjoy your meal for any longer as he pulls you away. Leaning down, he latches your lips to his, moaning as he tastes himself on your tounge.

"Dont want to finish in your mouth"

Laying back down, throwing one of your legs over his waist causing you to straddle him....

"Ride me." He demands, and like the good girl you were you took no time to fulfill his needs. Pulling out a condom from under the pillow he wa layed on..

"Dont judge me.. i knew this was gonna happen"

Lando chuckled as you slipped the condom on him, positioning yourself before sinking on him, Causing both of your breaths to hitch...

"Fuck (y/n)... how the fuck are you still this tight after 3 years of fucking you" lando moaned as your hips start to rock against his waist, finding your familiar rhythm as his hands find your waist. The sound of skin slapping could only be heard, as you allowed him to fill you up.

"Fuck lando" you yell throwing your hand back as he places his hand on your clit, matching the rhythm of your hips "dont stop" you scream as he picks up the pace.

Using his free hand to continue guiding your hips on his cock, pushing his hips up to meet yours.

Moans filled the air, both of you knowing full well that the rest of the mclaren could hear your 'private celebration' however neither you seemed to care as your screams filled up the room.

"Im so close" you sigh as lando continues to meet your hips half way, leaning down to meet his lips.

"Me too baby... fuck me too"

Without out any more warnings, lando let go, feeling his seed fill up the condom that was still thrusting inside you.

"Come on baby let go" lando yelled, hand moving faster against your clit as he, attaches onto your sensitive tits. Something that he knew could bring you to cum hust on its own...

"Fuck!!!" You scream as the pleasure washes over you, collapsing on his chest as you both tried to catch your breath.

"I love you so much" he whispered as he pulled your swollen lips into one last kiss..

"I love you too lando" you whispered back, leaning back into his chest as he begins to comb his fingers through your hair, a action that after 3 years of love he knew would instantly put you to sleep... and like everything that boy does, he never fails...

[peakyblindersxx]

whiskey business - john shelby x reader (part 6 of ?)

gif by my queen @michaelgreys, i'm basically her fanblog now but im not mad about it :) i mean just look at him!!1! i almost fainted

a/n: first of all, if you stuck around to this point, tysm for reading!!! this has been one of the most amazing fics ive ever been a part of and it's all thanks to the gorgeous @stxdyblr-2k, who generously took control of the next few parts. her brain is beautiful and we all owe her flowers or something. when i read what she sent me i couldn't bring myself to change much except for some small edits, so pls give her lots of love if you like it!!!! i'm still working on requests as well :)

love, abi xxx

read part one two three four five | my masterlist

tagging: @datewithgianni, @mayaslifeinabox, @deepdonutkid, @springsoulofengland, @lilymurphy03

prompt: nothing this good can last forever. john doesn't know how to feel, and neither do you.

warnings: nsfw! a teensy bit of smut, angsty as fuck prepare yourselves accordingly, a lil fluff if u squint, yeah this fucked me up

Obviously, it wasn't the last time.

Over the coming months you had many last times; his mouth pressed against your neck said as much. As his responsibility at work increased, you'd find yourself heading to his office after your lectures and night classes more often, perched on his lap, smoking, while he finished up his numbers under your critical gaze.

Thomas was more than aware; his snarky comments made it obvious he had his ways of monitoring your actions. You'd seen the dark car lurking outside your rallies and lectures, and no matter how you'd try to throw him off, not even telling Ada where you were going and even, in a moment of desperation, through your neighbours back window, somehow, his silent shadow was still looming. He was practically begging you to make a mistake, to give everyone an easy out. You just couldn't give him the satisfaction. You knew Tommy saw the world as a chess board, always several moves ahead of his opponent. Even when you played him in chess club all those years ago, you could outflank him if you thought on your feet and kept him thinking he was winning until you obliterated him in the end game. It was brutal, sure. But as he told you, there were bigger games at play. You had your own. Thomas could read your mail, intercept your phone calls and have you followed, but he couldn't hear what you said out of earshot. Your lot could smell an interceptor in your ranks, so spying at that close of a proximity was out of the question.

That's why he'd decided to let you have John. You knew his silent approval and his constant management of the narrative meant he saw a tactical gain. There was only so much information he could get from Ada, but John? He just had to agitate him in the right way and all your secrets would come tumbling out. It was difficult hiding your world from John; of what he knew of, he was supportive, quizzing you over current affairs and political discourse, listening intently. Yet, you had to watch your mouth. You had to keep a barrier up and you knew John sensed the distance. Fundamentally, there was nothing either of you could do.

So here you were, in a comfortable limbo. Your days were filled with work, evenings were for lectures and reading groups at the city's university, Ada and you often stopped for a drink or three; you'd go by your flat to freshen up, and then to John's office. Sometimes, you wouldn't visit for a week or so when the guilt sent you over the edge, it was draining to be living so many lives and knowing you were betraying the person you loved most on earth. Ada was oblivious, taking you on her nightly adventures filled with men, dancing and waiting while she was busy kissing in dark corners. Sometimes a young blinder would ask if you wanted to be walked home. The first occurrence you thought was sweet, but as the nights it occurred coincided with nights John seemed extra pent up, you'd decided to ask. The boy, who couldn't be older than twelve but who you knew was trained in using firearms and had a revolver pinned to his hip and a razor in his cap, looked confused.

"Mate, it's not a tough question. Why do you come and ask?"

"There's a phone call." He shrugs, "Isaiah or Michael tells us to go and get you."

Isaiah and Michael were somewhat aware? Fucking hell. Your fling was basically a military campaign at this point, so many of your friends were complicit. The little lads who ran as messengers around Birmingham were complicit. You had to just end it.

But when you sat on his thigh, his chin hooked over your shoulder, it felt so worth it. He never turned you away when you came crawling back. He never mentioned it until after you were finished, hooked under his arm.

"Fucking missed you, gorgeous."

Sometimes he'd remind you not to be a stranger with a wink, but you could tell it was tearing him apart too. He never once came to you. That's how he could justify it in his mind; obviously, the bare minimum was not having sex with his sister's best friend, but in failing that, waiting for you to initiate it was somewhat better. He barely talked to Ada now, citing work as an excuse, but truly the guilt sickened him. He couldn't believe he was prepared to continuously hurt his little sister and betray her. But every time you turned up at his door, he couldn't find it in himself to turn you away. In his mind, every single time you came to visit him was the last time he'd let it happen, yet he was always waiting for you to come back, his blind closed to signal he was prepared. He never would call, it had to be your choice.

You'd been off and on for over five months now. It was so difficult to hide in plain sight, but you just couldn't stop yourself. Neither of you purposefully meant for this to be happen but fuck, was it fun.

For your birthday he'd gifted you a fur coat from the same shop his sister, aunt and the fashionable crowd of Birmingham had purchased theirs. He joked that you looked like a "proper razor chaser", kissing you when you pouted at his teasing, begging you to wear only the coat when you fucked him next. It was a practice for blinders to buy a coat for their wives and girlfriends as a status symbol. You were neither, but John claimed that being his "favourite lass" also counted.

John was a laugh, but you knew at any time he could close his door to you. Until he decided he couldn't be bothered with you, you weren't going to get caught. You just had to be careful until he got bored.

***

You did end up putting a foot wrong. It was a Thursday night; you were sitting on the edge of John's desk while he was ridding you of your blouse. It was past midnight, Birmingham was asleep. You almost didn't bother coming out tonight, but you knew John had lost a deal and you wanted to be there for him. Your skirt and stockings were strewn across the desk with his shirt, vest and waistcoat, muddled into the files and papers which were once neatly stacked.

His fingers were pumping in and out of you, his mouth lapping at your breast, your head tipped back in euphoria, groaning. The stress made him more affectionate and tender with you, and it was nights like these that made you wonder. Wonder if this could ever be something more, something real.

John's body suddenly pulled away from yours, quickly turning the light off.

"John, what-" You were cut off by John’s hand over your mouth, muffling your words.

"Shut up and get behind the desk." He hissed. "Someone's coming upstairs."

You quickly grabbed your clothes from the shiny oak surface and crouched, hiding yourself from view, quickly making yourself decent. You weren't going to get shot through the head with your tits out. You listened to the stairs creek, and it sounded like a group. You two were easily outnumbered. They were talking, but the thick panels of wood muffled their voices.

As your eyes adjusted to the darkness, the cracks in the door giving the room a dulled glow, you could make out the figure of John. He was free of his shirt, toned body on display, standing with his back flat to the wall, revolver produced from a discreet notch in the door frame, gaze fixed on where they'd enter. He was tense, ready. The door was unlocked from the outside, the door handle twisting.

John's lip shifted in confusion yet still he kept his trigger finger ready, not a single shake from your general.

The light flicked on and a shriek rang out. It was blinding, and you stood up slightly dazed. Finn was in the doorway, John next to him clutching his chest, panting and lowering the gun.

"Jesus Christ, Finn, can't you knock like a normal person? Scared the shit out of us." John bellowed, shaking as the adrenaline coursed through his body, resting his hands on the edge of the desk as he regained his breath.

"You're the one who pointed a gun at me! I didn't even know you were in 'ere!" Finn yelped.

The commotion had attracted the attention of Ada and Isaiah, who had come running and stopped in their tracks upon seeing you standing behind John's desk in the middle of the night. They weren't stupid. John was topless, your clothes obviously rumpled, both with matching tousled hair and practically stinking of guilt. You'd been caught red handed. Ada's eyes flicked between both you and John, and you could practically see the pieces of the puzzle clicking together in her mind, all the moments she found questionable since you'd returned suddenly making sense, realising she had been deceived by the two people who she was meant to trust most in life. Finn looked absolutely crushed, he'd never been able to conceal his emotions as well as his older brothers and sister, linking his fingers through Ada's, squeezing her hand.

"I forgot to drop this off earlier." Finn stated, holding up a money box, "Ada had keys so we thought we'd sneak in so I wouldn't get done by Tommy. We did call round yours, Y/N. We thought you were in bed."

"I'm sorry." You said. It was not enough but you just didn't know what else to say. You couldn't make it right, you'd really fucked up this time. Tears pricked at your eyes, as Ada examined you in silence.

John stepped in front of you defensively. "Look, Ada-"

"How long has this been going on?" She asked, her voice shaking with rage. You and John exchanged a glance. "I said, how fucking long?"

"Five months, six in a fortnight." He answered.

Isaiah whistled lowly. "That's fucked. I thought it was only a few times, that it'd finished."

"Never really over when it's John is it." Finn interjects, you glance to him, were you just one in a long string? You shouldn't be surprised but it was easy to pretend he may actually care about you.

"You've been fucking around for six months behind my back?" Ada yelped, Finn trying to comfort her but she pulled away from him. "And you fucking knew Iz."

"I'd expect this from you, yeah? Wouldn't put anything past you these days.." she sneered at John, "But you? You?! You're meant to be my best mate, but here you are sneaking about fucking my brother?"

"Ada-" you began, eyes welling with tears.

"I thought I could trust you. You're just another fucking razor chaser, aren't you?" She spits. "That's why you came back."

"No it wasn't, Ada-"

Her eyes flashed with anger, but this time John was on the receiving end. "You bought her that fucking coat ,didn't you? The fur one. You did! Fuck's sake!" Her fists were clenched, shoulders squared. For the first time in your life, you understood why crowds parted for Ada Shelby. Understood all the free drinks and cab rides, the nervous serving staff declaring your meal on the house (always acknowledged by Ada with a hefty tip), understood why the men of Birmingham didn't last long with her.

"Did it feel good to swan about town in that fucking coat, while acting as though you cared about me? It's so fucking embarrassing. All trussed up because my knobhead big brother makes you feel special? Thanks for rubbing it in my face."

"Ada, I love you. I never meant to hurt you, I got caught up and that's on me. It's my fault."

"You're not acting like you love me. This isn’t what love is, Y/N." She retorted.

You couldn’t do anything but nod. She was right.

John opened his mouth to speak, Ada silencing him, a scowl darkening her features.

"I don't care what you have to say. Any of you. Who else knows?"

"Thomas, Michael, Arthur-" John listed off slowly, each name prompting Ada to break down a little bit more in front of you.

"I didn't know Arthur knew." You said pointedly, John sending you an exasperated glance. He was planning on dealing with that later, but right now was about his sister. Fuck him if he thought you were going to stick around much longer. You didn't want to hear him justify everyone else knowing about your fling with your best friend being left completely in the dark.

"That all you have to say for yourself?" Ada snaps at you.

"I have fucking no defense, do I Ada? I should've walked away." You pushed your hair back, frustrated at yourself, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. You begged yourself not to cry. Tears wouldn't help anything.

"Why didn't you?"

You didn't know. Your silence only riled her up.

"Why didn't you fucking walk away?" Ada yelled, slamming her hands on the desk.

You felt hot tears run down your face, quickly moving your hands to dab at your tears.

"Don't you dare fucking cry. After all you've done, you don't get to cry in front of me." Ada growled at you, John going to shush her, obviously wanting to comfort you. "You can all fuck off. You've all lied to me and gone behind my back. Fuck’s sake, you could've just told me. You could've just told me."

"We didn't want to hurt you." John said, reaching out to squeeze her shoulder but she flinches away.

"This hurts so much more. You get that you all lying to me is so much worse, don't you?"

"We weren't thinking."

"You really fucking weren't." Ada laughs bitterly, shaking her head, blinking away tears. "Fuck you lot."

She stormed out, tailed by Finn, begging her to slow down and talk to him, protesting his innocence in the situation. Isaiah hesitated in the doorway, his eyes flickering between you and John.

"I had no idea you two've been at it for so long."

"Iz, fuck off yeah? I've had enough today." John shot back, sliding across the desk towards you. "You alright, lass?"

"We're done here, John."

He slid off the table, his hand cupping your face, "Hey, gorgeous, I get it but don't go breaking my heart tonight. Can we just leave this for tomorrow? Sleep on it."

The idea of getting any sleep at all tonight was laughable, you'd be up all night replaying these moments and torturing yourself. Tonight couldn't get any worse so you had to finally end it. Now was the right time.

"John, it should've never happened."

"But it did."

"I don't want to talk about this anymore. It's over."

"Y/N. You know for me it was never just about-"

"You're making it difficult. Stop making it difficult. Whatever you say isn't going to change that right now we have to do the right thing."

"I know you're right, but I don't want to let go. Is it so wrong to want you? I adore you, you know that."

You wouldn't meet his eyes. Sighing, John pressed his forehead to the side of your head, chin brushing your shoulder, eyes closing. He was begging you to stay with him. There had to be a solution, you'd figure it out together. His voice was cracking, eyes glassy. He looked so much younger when he was pleading. The tall bloke who terrorised the Midlands with his razor rimmed cap, a revolver in his hand, and a ruthless trigger finger had vanished. You wanted to stay, burning to curl up with him and for him to kiss it better.

"I should go." You told him. He rested his forehead on your shoulder, letting out a shaky sigh before pulling away, nodding.

"I'd drive you home but obviously-"

"Obviously."

John suddenly turned from you, eyes narrowing at Isaiah who was still hovering at the door. "Thought I told you to fuck off. Make yourself useful and get Y/N home safely." His tone was ice cold once again.

Isaiah nodded, offering his arm to you. You reached the door and instinctively looked back at John. His eyes met yours, staring at you from his desk, just as you knew he would. He prepared himself to watch you leave every night, but this time was different. That was it with you two.

Isaiah strode down the street with you in silence. You were tucked into his side as was customary with the upcoming blinders who were particularly ambitious, but there was no relaxed chat.

"Isaiah. What’re you thinking?" You asked, voice tinged with nervousness.

He sighed, running his free hand across his jaw, "That was intense in there."

"Just how he is." You shrugged.

"Does he love you or sommet?"

"Fuck knows… does it matter?"

"Of course it does. Do you love him?"

"Drop it. None of that matters, it shouldn't have happened in the first place so it can’t," You snapped, the anger at the situation you'd created suddenly overwhelming.

Isaiah whistled, raising his brow at your obvious turmoil. "You're in fucking deeper than you want to admit."

He walked you up your path, watching you turn the key to the side door leading to your bedsit. You paused, turning to him.

"Iz… I don't know what to do next."

It was so dark, you could see his face only by the lit cigarette burning to embers between his fingers. He inhaled deeply, pausing before delivering his carefully laid out plan of avoidance. Obviously the event of him crossing the Shelbys and losing their good graces weighed heavily on his mind. You nodded, listening intently, noting his ideas of relocation but he explained they were a final resort. The best thing to do was try to regain their trust; in the long run, he had calculated, it was the only option that didn't result in your life being haunted by the Shelbys. Even if they left you alone, their enemies would make a point to go after you, seeing you as an easy target. The other option was to leave the country.

"Good luck, Y/N. I mean it." He muttered as you turned the handle to the temporary safety of your home. You nodded, offering you cheek for the polite good night kiss you'd become accustomed to. He rolled his eyes and obliged, pressing an affectionate kiss to your cheek and ruffling your hair. "I'm serious. Watch your back."

***

John broke down when he finally heard the lock click shut. His eyes had been prickling with boiling tears, his jaw tensed to hold them back. He yelled out in anger, flipping his desk with force, a loud crash as the wood splintered against the stone flooring, glass shattering from the photo frames. His hands went to his head, unable to stop the gasping breaths escaping from his trembling lips, his face reddening.

"Fuck’s sake." He growled. He'd fucked everything up. He had nothing, just as he'd told you the first night you returned. The consequence was no surprise, he'd anticipated the fall out for a while, but he couldn't resist you. He was completely guilty and had no defense; his only justification being that you made him think with his cock, not his brain.

Fuck’s sake. Polly was going to murder him. She'd always had a soft spot for Ada, as the only girl in the family, and was no stranger to lecturing him over his flirtatious behaviour around Ada's friends. She'd murder him. He had a half mind to never go home. He rubbed at his eyes with his knuckles. Polly had no use for tears. That's what she'd tell him when he was a boy coming home with a skinned knee. This was far worse.

He was also sure that he was a worse brother than Tommy, perhaps the worst in the world. His baby sister, who he'd helped to toddle, carry proudly on his shoulders after school and race with her on his back through the fields on the outskirts of Small Heath, had walked in on him obviously in the midst of fucking her best mate. If he had swallowed his pride and actually talked to her, he wouldn't be in this mess. He could've told her that things changed, that for the same reasons Ada loved Y/N he had fallen for her, that he was truly sorry but she had to know before it got too far and someone got hurt. He couldn't go back.

He should've never approached you that night.

He should never approach you again.

He looked over the mess of his office, the splintered wood and shards of glass, a confetti of paperwork. Now nothing mattered. None of this mattered. He'd lost everything and he had only himself to blame.

[lacunasbalustrade]

MY BUDDYFIGHT AESTHETICS, but this time bold what applies and italicise what sometimes does! cross out what never applies

Gao Mikado: never expecting any of the beauty that takes you by force, morning waves lapping against the shore of an Irish beach, the aroma of eggs sizzling with butter in a pan, touching someone's soft, cold hand and feeling the warmth transfer between you two like an iv line, sinking into a fluffy bed radiating warmth after a long day, putting your achy head on the table in class. you're so so tired all the time but you know somewhere in your heart that you'll never get these days back. you're making the best of them however you can, "i know you always do your best."

Noboru Kodo: sugar caramelising brown in an oven, waiting for someone until you get the sinking realisation that they stood you up, lazy rainy afternoons under a grey sky, sitting cross-legged with one knee up and being scolded by your mom for looking like a gangster, breathing the taste of minty fir sap in a cooling forest, in a dark room with someone's back to yours confessing every mistake both of you ever made, with embarrassed laughs. backing out of a convenience store queue because there are too many people, "if i could have been born with your courage life could've been so much easier."

Zanya Kisaragi: always on your toes for something that you can't quite understand why you expect, the same familiar street at twilight when everyone returns to their houses and turns on the lamps, the texture of green tea against your dry tongue, dipping your fingers into the swimming pool to check the temperature and feeling the warmth flee from your blood, waking up tangled in your bedspread, clicking noise from stapling paper together briskly. you have something to do later and you're looking forward to it, "you're an inspiration, okay?"

Jin Magatsu: waking up with an unstoppable headache. bumping into pointy cabinets and having to reach too far to grab your throbbing foot with two hands. the flavour of cotton candy melting on your face around your mouth. someone wipes it off for you with the back of their cardigan covered hand. blackberry-infused tea (coffee is for lowlifes), the best time you swear by is naptime on another tiring Monday after work, never quite judging but always perceptive of how those around you feel towards anything, good natured sarcasm, "tell me how I got this lucky again?"

Tetsuya Kurodake: the buzzing sound you get in your head when you've listened to your headphones on max volume for far too long, little packets of vitamin enhanced milk and the crinkly sound wrapping makes when you tear it off, bright cel shading on a hand-drawn animation sheet, forgetting to pick your clothes off the floor in the morning after you left them there last night, vacuuming dust from underneath your bed and nearly choking from the bunnies, maybe a little bit afraid of being inferior at the things you love, "promise me we'll still have tomorrow."

Raremaro Tafudonokimi: traditional kimono. perfectly arranged bouquets, tissue flowers, expensive art that was made by some amateur on eBay. watching run-of-the-mill animation and trying to think of deeper meaning behind it. playing an instrument so badly birds drop from the trees. a gentle late afternoon, even so you complain about how hot it is. small yapping dogs, feeding breadcrumbs to the pigeons, not really sure if anyone looks up to you despite how hard you try, always bluffing your way out of real challenges, "you know, you're not such a bad presence after all."

Kanata Ozora: switching on the stove. it's too hot to stay in your blanket fort although all your air conditioners are on, so you crawl out on your hands and knees only for all the pillows to come crashing down. the way oatmeal slides down your throat like a raw egg. rain off fresh leaves smells so good that you have ten planters on your kitchen window ledge. mini bonsai trees. not really knowing what makes someone so beautiful but wanting to keep them anyways, forever. "why are you so afraid of yourself? you're so much more than i could ever have hoped for!"

Shosetsu Kirisame: stoic apologies. clean washing folded neatly, the warmth of clothes after they come out from the machine, misty showers with wet floors. In the daylight around nine, it's so peaceful and quiet, just the ideal time to get into some studying. open windows, no emoticons ever, the way air tastes in your lungs when you inhale really deep, how satisfying it feels to squirt toothpaste onto the bristles, looking back and wishing you could slap your self-centred egoistic teen self. "if i could do life over again, there are a lot of things I'd change. but I'd never change you."

Keisetsu: chilled pillows against your head. folding your hands behind your back and crossing your fingers. danger at every streetlight (but at least you know it's coming), that moment in the dead of night when you bolt upright panting and not knowing what woke you. you've never had any dreams, awake or sleeping, except for wanting somewhere to belong to, somewhere you can be an irreplaceable part of a world. team player at heart. pastel macarons in between your teeth, cherry sauce scent, ozone depletion under your belt, "i'm hopeless. can't even make you want me."

Shusui Kanehebi: breakdancing and rap music with terrible lyrics and too many curse words. pessimistic social media messages, gulping down fruit smoothies in one go, the taste of adrenaline in your throat when you smell the hunt on the wind. calling someone close to you eight times is a daily routine just for laughs and more often than not they block you until you apologize through a mutual. waking up sleepily and walking into your own bathroom door; your roommate screams at you to keep quiet or die by their blade. "maybe i can live with me, but you sure can't, you're too dang perfect."

Sakate Onagashira: museum dates. it's always been second nature to wait for someone else at the bus stop, but you're still single up till now. late night when you're being kicked out of yet another party - where did you take the forked road? There's no specific moment you can trace it back to, maybe you were just meant to be this way whether you wanted to or not. pepper fried rice smells hella good. peeling open durians and pineapples with your bare hands just to show you can, shivering when it gets even slightly cool out, "there's nothing i have for you, don't even try."

Kemura: never seems to be listening but always remembers everything, is the one who pets the elephant in the room whilst everyone ignores it. self-destructive kindness is a thing? actually listens to all those ads instead of skipping past them. 3 am and visiting the nearby food market for snacks before realising that it's closed, you've been playing video games too long. Plays Pokémon Go, keeps potted plants in your room but they keep wilting and you don't know what to do at all. surprisingly good at handicrafts although you might seem clumsy - "Kemura will do his very best!"

Gaito Kurouzu: trying too hard to seem unbreakable. reads latin during lunch break. never wonders why, only wonders how. throws tantrums like an excellent five year old. has a master's degree in planning documents and arranging their calendar, likes chocolate cake but not the low-sugar ones with less butter. the freshly baked pie smell only top-tier bakers can achieve, burst of peeled oranges as you bite through the skin, citrusy detergent on hands, cloudy nights as you wander around the corner for an errand, "don't you dare sneak off without telling me."

Kyoya Gaen: glass windows that you could fall through if you leant hard enough, little lies that you don't mind anymore. love that you deny everyday by acting cruel to it, as if that'll ever change anything. the sound of the door lock clicking behind you (which side are you on?), gentle somber dust against your skin like specks of glitter, scent of moth-eaten paintings, excruciatingly simple pencil sketches, neutralising the things you don't like by not giving them recognition, the childish confidence most of us lost a long while ago, dead sunsets, "maybe we could have worked out in a different universe, 'name'."

Kiri Hyoryu: scarves tucked tightly around your shaking hands. the sharp bite of cinnamon's aroma that brings a pop of colour, humid windy days when you can't see straight for the hair in your eyes but there's always, always someone who grabs your hand and takes you straight where you need to be. soft white cheese against good bread as you chew, making New Year's mochi and Lunar Month mooncakes by hand (the flour dust against your skin), meeting someone you know well after a while and realising somehow you've only become closer, petting cafes, "how did you find me?"

Rouga Aragami: unshakeable confidence; no hesitation. The darkness of the resting warmth in the night sky, jazz tunes in a dark bar, aeroplanes crossing the sky in their white trails like map lines, no drifting just swimming, chewing meat and ripping it straight from the bone, being the shoulder that someone else leans on as tears roll down their face (however silent or loud they sob, it doesn't matter to you), the sound of milk as it's poured into a glass, forehead against another forehead as you whisper-promise to them that it will work out, climbing a tree and realising that you can't get down, "i won't give up on you, no matter how many times you ask me to."

Tasuku Ryuenji: running in the rain as the wind blows droplets straight into your eyes. you're going in the wrong direction but what does that matter? unease. you constantly don't know what to do with yourself. bread rising in the oven and burning away, smoldering quietly. smell the rich coffee from the cold vending machine as you pop open another cup. falling asleep besides a stuffed animal, its fur is clumped together after a long period of usage. falling for the feeling that you've finally become more than just useful to someone, to anyone, you are loved, "i think that family is something you put in front of the world; you are my everything."

Paruko Nanana; livestreams & podcasts on a computer, a phone, an iPad, a MacBook, and a headset all at once. "only someone like you could handle all that."waking up on chilly rainy mornings at 6 am after studying till 2am, so used to telling the camera to get your good side that you forgot how some liked seeing you with silly haircurlers in. drinking bubble tea; the joys of youth. can't stretch or flex for your life, but the Easter Bunny couldn't jump higher. your idea of comfort food is french fries in ketchup someone save you from yourself, healthy living is working & playing hard in your book, bicycling in gardens, affection badly expressed, using short forms & text emojis, talkative but comforting, conscious of other people's existence,"YOU. you get me."

Kazane Fujimaya: positivity post accounts, local thrift shops and flea markets, haggling good-naturedly. that specific moment when the sun starts to rise and you've hiked up to the top of some steep hill that smells of fresh bamboo and steamed chestnut buns. it's sunrise over calm waters and there are no clouds if there are you're in the wrong place. being a regular customer, would volunteer at pet shelters but you're allergic to fur, eating egg mayonnaise sandwiches with black pepper and dropping it on your lap, you'll never get that stain out if you soak it for the rest of your life. vegetable soup is so good you swear by it, feeling alienated from everyone by some really hurtful circumstance but going home to face it regardless. "hey, are you awake yet?"

Kuguru Uki: clay scent of contented pottery wheels, oven mitts, potwarmers, the way lavender hangs in the air over the blue that has yet to descend and bring twilight with it, getting ready to leave and sitting down to pull on your shoes over your feet in their padded socks. never yelling in case you startle someone nearby who's working. getting used to warmed-up rice balls in place of actual meals. inhumanly good at playing those claw machine games, even when they're rigged. "fifty points to gryffindor", sitting and revising your notes only to realise that your handwriting is embarrassingly rushed, redoing them although it's still readable. life's a balancing act and you are a champion. compromises. "there you are, I've been waiting for you!"

Megumi Mamakari: buying instant fashion from high-end malls, inhaling the aroma of cold-brew coffee beans in a place so cold your fingers are turning pink, mini whitebread tuna and lettuce sandwiches that crunch underneath your teeth, doing ballet as a kid and never tiptoeing again because your toes are still bruised underneath your socks. crawling under the bed because you take hide-and-seek very seriously. copying people's handwriting is a strange hobby but if it's not fascinating your hair isn't lemonade pink. the most starched out days when moisture hangs so thick you could slice it with a knife, the clouds are as grey as your jumper, lightning may strike any moment, that's part of the thrill. rollercoasters & haunted houses, "laugh all you want. you can't deny it."

Suzuha Amanosuzu: perfect eyeliner. flawlessly groomed, prideful with a reason, being the benevolent queen is difficult but you'll do it with grace and strength if it costs you your beautifully manicured fingernails. "End of discussion - there's nothing more to say" bubbly apple cider bursts against your palate, let it wash down the aromatic basil-topped lamb cutlet that's laid out artisan style on your porcelain plate. korean dramas and scandalous romance novels, you know the myths better than the history professor does, that doesn't disconnect you from reality. snapping a painted fan closed, elegant victorian fashion, stars coming out in a whole parade across the galaxy at 4am (you glow brighter than all, this is light pollution my dear), "what, are my feelings a concern to you?"

Ku Teito: flashy sunsets on the subway, riding on the carousel when the circus comes to town. big hearted only means your heart falls harder, darling; the air smells lonelier at night when you're out patroling on your lonesome: you always work yourself to the bone. chocolate roll bread fresh from the oven that your teeth sink into like butter. drafting reports by using the speech function because you'd rather use your hands to play Minecraft and Nitendo Wii games instead, you actually subscribe to legitimate music services instead of pirating. good for you. the world is so big and you could fit in a pocket of my hands, you need to be protected but only wish to protect others, selflessly, brightly, purely. it's not about the ego for you. karaoke master. "you can never match up to me, but go on and try!"

Mrs Fujimaya: making jokes that aren't funny. stop using your humour to cut wounds open in yourself; those who love you do not want to watch you bleed. i know you've been staying strong all through every trial, just a little longer, keep standing, please. having a picture perfect memory: the differences in the world you move forward through is as glaring as the sun to you, you are the closest to realisation you've ever been. keep going. popcorn salted dissolves in your mouth leaving only hard kernels of truth - the scent of flower pollen is one you'll never forget as you kneel in front of his portrait (in front of him at his grave.) days when you couldn't bear to open the windows and no one kept track of time for you, it's so hard being a mother who has to shoulder her little girl's pain on top of her own. "you don't have to worry, I can push through like a freight train."

Suzumi Mikado: the clouds are so much closer than you thought at first, green crocuses, leaves falling in a crochet pattern, beckoning storms and their irises of calm, the final light of the day, twisted paper cones of salted peanuts, tricoloured pansies, black tulips "you sure don't mess around, do you?" mad rollerblading skills, probably jogged every day before school, had a million graduation photo albums and her son's smile, bulldog terrier as a childhood pet, against light pollution, manic for radio dramas. constantly smells of hugging, how can someone smell like hugging? the one who eats door-to-door salesmen for breakfast, but charms the entire parent support group with your boisterous enthusiasm and courageous grace of carrying yourself well. you are a survivor. "you! stand up on your own two feet!"

Ageha: little white lies. the epitome of showbiz. slightly bizarre but you never want those clicking high heels to stop, champion of climbing trees. snakes and the divine are inextricably connected like the four beasts of the directions that protect a large snake coiled at the centre of the world (isn't that what you are?) time doesn't leave a mark on you, to you it is inconsequential my lady. spray that hibiscus perfume once again and watch me become enthralled by it. pancakes are a go to breakfast with your secret sauce that's really just citrus juice mixed with cream and vodka. kindness in the mask of an expertly carried theatre performance, or the rhythm of a street dancer, you bring tidal waves wherever you step. "you should know by now, that isn't enough to keep me entertained. show me something spectacular!"

Sofia Sakharov: compassion never picked up on, you prefer it that way. sticky food like homemade jam with the pips squeezed out, borscht and rye bread a familiar but not comforting texture on your pale tongue. days and nights blend together when you are the very essence of stars and the sun is right beside you - what more do you need? never have you ever been interested in the moon. putting up with things, a magenta that demands attention. unconsciously mimicking those around you and copying theur behaviour; it must be a pattern by now to blend in. that's all you've ever been asked to do. little ways of being rebellious. blunt and insensitive comments that scream for someone to try and uncover their source. tsarina of a thousand fullstops, sarcasm, matryoshka dolls,"who are you to lecture me?"

Terumi Kuchinawa: hungry looks exchanged between lovers. you probably learned french in school. speaking of that, slightly burnt french toast scarred like the sun's surface with a thousand pits, sweet and thick like a promise. here you are at the steps of the school waiting for the pigeons to take flight, over the rising light that illuminates your world (and you alone.) smell the cigarettes and stamp your foot at the irresponsible person who ruined your beautiful morning. where is the shyness and insecurity that you hide so well under the surface? oh but my dear you are a dragonfruit; when squishy, you burn with a whoosh of fire. not so innocent are you? your worth has pain dormant in yourself all the time you were searching for someone to give it to. "you're pathetic! but then, I guess you already know that."

Yuga Mikado: the traffic light turns green exactly as you step onto the road, maybe you know more than you should at the age you are, still waiting aren't you for the window to dry off after you scrubbed it clean, sparkly, transparent. nothing is bright but that's ok because you are enough. you glow brighter than lanterns. confident strides; how have you grown so fast, my child? you know all about living in someone's shadow but you have mint on your breath and we will go into the light with no regrets. aut inveniam viam aut faciam. "being around you is the most fun thing I can imagine!"

Ranma Kakogawa: and where would I have found myself if you had not been there in my time of need? ache of always being caught on your own. wouldn't it be nice to be crowded around for once, someone born to shine as bright as a fire. but sweetheart, should you ever have been held up to the right kind of mirror, you would have seen that you are the lens of a camera; seen and seen through, needed, loved, held. caramel latte art and a full English breakfast. can you hear the way the helicopter whirrs over the fields in the morning? praeterita mutare non possumus. "We're going to make it. I'll do whatever I have to to make it happen."

Subaru Hoshiyomi: could I believe in your courage the same way you trust in others? hesperus or venus, there is no difference in my eyes. a rose by any other name smells as sweet, the confidence you exude is a charisma of its own that you wield with ease. so selfish in your own way, unable to see beyond your own nose. wisdom and knowledge are different, but you will learn with time. you could call out the birds and sing down the mountain dawn with that compelling honesty of yours. brazen, tongue-in-cheek luceo non uro. "Even I can't fully understand you. However, that may not...be such a bad thing after all."

Masato Rikuo: strong chai tea topped with leaves and cinnamon. whatever are you waiting for? your boundless energy is more than an inspiration, at the heart of it, it's an innocent desire of a child. you've listened to those who poured out their ideals and that is all that can be expected from you. sometimes I think you do too much. concentration, additives, you may taste of all these, but you're au natural. never lose heart, dear one, never turn back or away. they will come to their senses in time. aut insanity homo, aut versus facit. "with you here, I could conquer the universe!!!!!! we're invincible!"

Light Kurouzu: seeing your face in a thousand and three copper whistling kettles steamed up with condensation. too many things you can't run from. videos without the ads because you paid for premium when you were down and now you can't waste it. yet another reason to dodge another batch of questions. there is roadwork and a ladder and a black cat on your daily journey home and you have made peace with every one of them. some things shouldn't be hidden inside superstition, you believe, rubbing at scratches. nec spe, nec metu. "You're going to be famous in a foreign city."

Seiji Kido: and again you pound your hands on the keys. There are no melodies, only different languages, and your inability to comprehend them frustrates you to no end. perhaps the beauty you've been seeking is in the openness of not knowing. can you wait a little longer to be accompanied in the empty concert halls? i promise there is someone waiting in the wings for their cue. faith is something terribly complicated to cultivate, but I give it to you now without charge. go forth again with your gifts and lay barr your heart. you have been heard and perhaps we were never lost, merely searching. semper ad meliora, "I'm right here, moron. Talk to me."

Masato Foil: conundrums again. You bear the weight of capital letters in your shoulders, raised to be a king, born to be a soldier, yet susceptible to the notions of poets that you request to be removed from a distance; they are not yours and never will be. so many possibilities yelling your name that you ignore as if you were deaf. I'm not sure whether I shall call you resolved or witless. Mountains will tremble when they are in your presence and countries will now before your feet. I just hope the hurt is worth it, dear liege, I have seen the heart you hold like a pen as you sign your edicts in blood.

si vis pacem, para bellum. "I rule for you alone."

Alexandre Ankh: scornful crown; you do not rule, you are a ruler and few can tell the difference. easy to read as palm lines, running fingertips over the intercrossed veins, as shallow and as deep as the surging currents of the parted Red Sea beneath Moses's staff. forever I would entrust the burdens to you because you do not see them as burdens but responsibility and that could be a curse or a birthright, I would not know. tear apart the lies for I give you my signet ring; take it and guide the people. you have the strength to be who you are, endure and admonish the lost. littera scripta manet. "You need never kneel when you are with me."

Kei Jinguji: paralysed worse than a paraplegic. who was the soul who ripped out your joy and replaced it with such numbing fear? I will readily admit that shame is not a medicine I wish to taste, yet the way you shudder in fear makes me want to swallow it for you. take a look at how I am making my words fall softer on your ears than light, and think to yourself that maybe the purpose of imperfection is to help us understand what grace is; what love is, that you need not be so desperate for something that requires nothing of you. the rainclouds are blocking out all your monsters, you are safe here. memento vivere. "It's my loss to you."

[floralseokjin]

⤑ made-up love song i.

Your first encounter with Kim Seokjin doesn’t go so well, nor your second, or your third… and maybe that’s because it shouldn’t work on paper. You’re an elementary school teacher living with your best friend, and have never left the country despite hitting the third decade of your life not so long ago. He’s the dad of one of your students, nearly a decade older than you and divorced. Oh yes, and just another minor detail – he’s a multimillionaire.

Your lives are lightyears apart, yet somehow, your paths having now crossed, things just seem to fall into place…

pairing; kim seokjin x reader  genre/warnings; strangers to lovers, romance, eventual smut, eventual angst, single dad! seokjin, ceo! seokjin, elementary school teacher! oc, age gap (oc is 30, seokjin is 37), seokjin is a dilf, not really much to warn in this first chapter, there’s some flirting, oc doesn’t want to admit she finds seokjin dishy, she’s possibly in denial that there’s a spark there, jimin and soobin appear 🥰 words; 11,028 

↪︎ chapter index

chapters; i • ii • iii • iv • v • vi • vii • viii  • ix • x • epilogue  (+ drabbles)

You hated being late. Not only did you pride yourself on your impeccable time management but sleeping through your alarm always threw you out of whack for the rest of the day. You blamed the annual student reports that had to be written. No matter how organised you were, every year they seemed to sneak up on you and disrupt your prompt 11pm bedtime. You’d been still awake past 1am last night, determined to give each student the report they deserved. The yearly parent-teacher meetings were tomorrow (Friday) and Monday evening; it was officially the end of the school year countdown, which was ironically the most difficult time of the year. 

No wonder your stress levels were so high lately. You felt like a ticking timebomb, wondering what on earth would set you off – because it was inevitable. This morning it could have been a number of things… Your inability to awake when your alarm went off, the fact your clothes were still slightly damp from insufficient drying time, your forgotten lunch still at home in the refrigerator, or now, your current predicament – you couldn’t find a space to park your car. 

You always got to work an hour early, that way you had enough time to get ready for the school day before the student’s turned up and the teacher’s parking lot was empty. You had your pick of spaces. Today however, with just fifteen minutes to spare before class began, you didn’t have much choice. The spot that required you to reverse in between two cars, or the one that was secluded but came with a price – the sun’s hotspot. 

You were stopped idly between the two, mentally making you decision while also damning this day to hell, when suddenly there was a thud and you jerked forwards, a gasp escaping your fallen mouth. Your hands had unconsciously clenched around the steering wheel so you ever so slowly eased up, straightening your back as you caught a look in the rear-view mirror. 

“Oh, my god.” You breathed quietly, reaction time delayed greatly. Shock probably. 

You watched as a black car – twice the size of yours and almost blindingly shiny – pulled away from the side of your vehicle, back into the space they’d just reversed out of. They’d hit you. You’d been hit. As if this day couldn’t get any worse. It wasn’t even 8am. 

There was a clunk of a car door and then a man in a suit came hurrying into view, as fast as he could manage, a look of pure horror on his face. Still on autopilot, you felt your hand reach for the handle of your door, pushing it open to find yourself getting out. 

“Are you okay?” The well-dressed man asked, panic evident in his voice. The very well-dressed man. His suit was a three-piece, black and white houndstooth. It looked expensive. Which just seemed to piss you off for some unexplainable reason. 

You were fine of course, dazed maybe, the blow hadn’t been that serious at all, but that was besides the point. This man, in his very obnoxious suit (even if it did hug his body in extremely cruel ways) had not been concentrating. He’d reversed straight into your poor little car that was no match for his hefty thing. Your shock was shifting. In its place grew anger. 

When you didn’t reply, than man carried on. “I am so sorry, Miss.” An annoying shrill sounded between you both. The cell phone in his hand. He ignored it – or at least tried to. “I really am. I was–” 

He stopped abruptly midsentence, letting out a huff. Whoever was calling him wasn’t relenting. He picked up, talking quickly, an air of authority to his voice that caught your attention. “Kim Seokjin, speaking. Please can I – I’m sorry, but I’m going to have to call you back. There’s been an emergency.” A pause as the person on the other end of the line spoke. They weren’t given much time. “Thank you for understanding. Goodbye.” 

The man – Kim Seokjin apparently – hung up, attention immediately back on you. “I’m just so sorry. Is there any damage?” He made his way over to the place he’d hit, just above your back wheel, crouching down, and grimaced. “Oh god.” 

You followed, coming face to face with the black scratches that now marred the white paint of your vehicle. It wasn’t so bad, he hadn’t sped out of the space, but something had definitely scraped the steel, and again, that was beside the point. He’d still reversed into your car. 

“The bike rack,” he muttered to himself. Your answer. He looked across at his car, brushing a hand through his hair. It stayed perfectly in place, pushed back above his forehead. He was a striking man, you’d give him that. Features made up of, what you could only describe as soft angles. Actually, thinking about it, he was pretty intimidatingly beautiful. That just made you angrier. How dare this stranger unnerve you with his good looks.  

“What happened?” You asked hotly. 

He looked up at you, taken back by your tone, but composed himself fairly quickly. “I-I was distracted for a moment, I didn’t realise–”

“Were you on your phone?”

“I’m sorry?” You looked down at the device still in his hand. On cue it started ringing again. He hit ignore straight away. “No, no. God, no.” He protested, shoving the phone into the inside pocket of his suit jacket. He straightened up, head and shoulders above you. You crossed your arms and waited for his explanation, straining as tall as you could get. His cologne smelt amazing, you tried to ignore it. 

“I was – I was trying to get the handsfree to work in this damn car and last time I checked there was no one there.” He seemed flustered. A far cry from the authoritative figure he’d been on the phone call. “I wasn’t thinking, I just backed out –” He stopped, as if he suddenly realised something. “Why… Why were you on stop directly behind me?”

“Excuse me?” You instantly got defensive, hands waving about animatedly as you explained  “I wasn’t stopped, I was trying to find a space.” 

You hadn’t been aware there was someone occupying the vehicle. No one left the staff parking lot in the morning so there was never any worry about somebody reversing into you. This was all on him. He wasn’t going to try and turn it around on you. 

“I’m sorry, but do you even work here?” This school was small, he definitely wasn’t a teacher here, and you doubted he was a substitute. He was too well-dressed for a start. Who the hell was he?!

He looked momentarily confused. “Work here? No.” 

“Then why are you using the teacher’s parking lot?” Your arms were folded across your chest again. 

His eyes widened in horror, realisation setting in. “Oh no. I didn’t realise...” 

“It’s signposted.” His mistake seemed genuine, but that really wouldn’t cut it. Because of his mistake your car was now scratched. You’d have to contact your insurance company and god only knows if they would pay out seeing as the damage was really only cosmetic, and if they did, it would probably take an age. 

“It’s my first time dropping off my daughter at this school. I didn’t know where to go, and I was getting so many phone calls, I was just trying to…” He petered out, realising you probably didn’t care about his morning. So what? He was having a shitty one? So were you! 

“There’s no excuses for this.” He lowered his head in apology. “I’m truly sorry and I feel awful.” 

You found yourself softening. He did sound extremely genuine. You opened your mouth to reply, to accept his apology, but he spoke up again. “Let me sort this out. Money is no object. I can call my mechanic straight away and–”

“There’s no need,” you told him immediately, horror stricken. 

“It’s really no problem.” He insisted. “Come on, if we wait for our insurance companies to sort this out god knows how long it will take. No, I’ll phone the mechanic I use right now and they can come and pick your vehicle up. It’ll be fixed in no time. You won’t have to pay a thing.” 

“No, thank you.” Your anger was growing again. Irritation itching your face. Who did this man think he was? Money didn’t solve everything. Most people didn’t have that luxury. 

“No?” 

His bewilderment made you see red. “I don’t need your help or your money.” 

You could be very stubborn when you wanted to be. You’d been told so throughout your life; family, friends, exes… No, you’d just pay for the repairs yourself. You’d rather wake up late for an eternity than take his money. 

“But I did this.” 

He really wasn’t getting it. “It’s fine, just –” You were interrupted by the ringing of his cell phone again. “You’re obviously very busy, just forget about it. It’s a few scratches.” You turned your back to him, glancing at your watch. You had just under two minutes to decide on a parking space and get to your classroom. 

“Wait,” he called out.

“Goodbye,” you called back, rounding the front of your car to dive back into the driver’s seat. 

“But – Argh!” You heard him let out a yell, his phone still shrilling loudly. He sounded frustrated when he answered. “Soobin, what is it?! Yes, I already told him I’m – What? He said they were…” 

He became inaudible as you slammed your door shut, using his distraction to drive off – straight into the easiest parking spot available… You guessed your poor car would have to turn into a damn sauna for today. 

.

.

After the morning you had you were thrown all out of whack. All day you didn’t know whether you were coming or going, your students seeming more hyper than usual and by 3pm you were ecstatic to see them leave. Your head was throbbing by the time half 4 rolled around, the final touches to your student reports complete at least. Not long after you trudged in the direction of your boiling hot car, stomach still queasy from the canteen slop you’d been forced to eat today and stress levels now barely manageable. Only one more day until the weekend, yet now you’d be forced to deal with finding an affordable mechanic with your free time. 

You were still in disbelief over today’s events. That frustratingly handsome stranger with the concentration levels of a two year old and more money than sense. You scoffed to yourself, how dare he try to flaunt his wealth around like that. What had his name been again? He’d said on the phone… You couldn’t remember, your temper had been too distracting…

Whelp. You were having second thoughts… Maybe you’d been too harsh earlier… You hadn’t been overly rude at all, but you had been quite curt. He did seem genuinely sorry after all, and maybe you’d misjudged what you guessed was an act of kindness. After all, you had been on stop behind him, and while he should’ve double checked before backing out, it wasn’t all on him. You were both to blame. You felt guilty for not thanking him for his apology. For your preconceived opinions on him. You didn’t even know the man and there you were making judgements – 

You stopped dead in your tracks as you got closer to where your car was parked, thoughts immediately interrupted. “What the –?”  

Stopped in front of it was small towing vehicle, Park Esteem written along the side in bold orange font. A man rounded the corner of the truck, a clipboard in his hand as he looked around, presumably for the owner of the car he seemed so eager to tow. You. He was looking for you. 

You jumped to action, breaking into a run. “Excuse me, Excuse me!” The guy with the clipboard looked up at the sound of your strained voice calling out. It was shrill as you came to a halt right in front of him, demanding an explanation. “What are you doing? Why are you towing my car?!”

“You’re the owner of this vehicle, Miss?” 

“Yes!” You exclaimed in disbelief. “What’s the problem?” 

He looked down at his notes, visibly confused by your reaction it seemed. “Uh, Mr. Kim has requested I pick up your vehicle and take it to be fixed for the damage he caused?”

Mr. Kim?! Who the hell was – wait. Kim Seokjin. His name came back to you instantly. He’d gone behind your back after you explicitly said you didn’t want or need his help. How dare he. And there you’d been feeling guilty for the way you’d treated him not two minutes previous. 

“He said to be here at 4pm as you should be finishing work around then…” The mechanic carried on, voice softening, as if he was about to bear bad news. “I’ve been here for thirty minutes, Miss. I’m afraid I’ll have to bill him for that separately. Time is money after all.” 

You checked your watch on autopilot. It was coming up to twenty to five. Shaking out of it, you straightened your shoulders, back to fighting mode for the second time today. “You can’t just take my car without my permission.”  

The man grimaced slightly. “Well see, he’s already paid for the towage, and Mr. Kim is a very valuable and trustworthy customer.” 

“Trustworthy?” You scoffed. “He’s stealing my car! I’m sorry but no, I refuse this…” You paused to think. “This service.” This was so absurd. Not only had this Mr. Kim totally disregarded your wishes, the towing of your car was incredibly over the top. The damage was cosmetic, everything was in fine working order. It didn’t need to be helped to the workshop. The thought of something so dramatic was infuriating. 

“I’m afraid that’s impossible, Miss. Mr. Kim already paid for the towage upfront so I can’t actually do anything about it now…” 

You stared at the man, telling yourself to take deep breaths. It wasn’t his fault. He was just doing his job. “So I have to let you take my car?”

He gave you a gentle smile. “I’m afraid so…unless…” He hesitated. “Unless you pay for the reversal…” 

“And how much is this reversal?” Your arms were crossed for what felt like the hundredth time today. 

You nearly keeled over when you were told the price. Damn that arrogant handsome man. Damn him straight to hell. Kim Seokjin, you would never forget that name now. What a complete and utter d–

“I’m sorry for the confusion, Miss. I was under the impression you knew Mr. Kim.” The mechanic apologised. 

You found yourself softening. He had a gentle voice. A gentle face too. It was that conceited so-and-so you were mad at. You were glad you’d left the classroom late today, not many cars left in the parking lot which meant less chance of a co-worker seeing this embarrassment. 

“So, I’m going to need to take your details now.” He continued, holding his clipboard out, sounding hopeful that you’d calmed down. “Just so I can arrange drop off at your address tomorrow.” You nodded slowly, watching him stretch out a hand. “I’m Jimin, by the way. Park Jimin from Park Esteem Car Services.” 

You shook it, introducing yourself automatically. “I’m Y/N.” 

He gave you a dazzling smile. “Lovely name. How do you spell that?” 

Ten minutes later your poor car was hooked up to Jimin’s truck, ready to go, just as a sleek black car with tinted windows pulled up alongside you. Out rushed a tall young man. He looked a little frazzled as he straightened out his suit jacket but smiled your way. “Hello, are you the owner of this vehicle?” 

“Yes,” you replied rather woodenly. What fresh hell? 

He smiled wider, outstretching his hand. “Hi, lovely to meet you. I’m Mr. Kim’s personal assistant, Mr. Choi, but you can call me Soobin.” 

You completed your second handshake of the day – two too many and introduced yourself too.  Inside you had a million and one questions. It began with ‘Why was his personal assistant here?’ and ended with ‘When would this day finally be over?’ 

“I’m so sorry I’m late.” The young man – Soobin – apologised. “Things have been incredibly hectic at the office today. I’m so glad you’re still here.” 

Jimin appeared by the side of you then. “Hi, you work for Mr. Kim?” Soobin nodded, tilting his head in curiosity. “Well, there have been a few misunderstandings this afternoon. Mr. Kim said he knew the client but she really has no idea who he is. Other than he was the one who hit her car.” 

Soobin grew flustered, bumbling over his words. “Oh, well, um…” 

“It’s fine,” you shook you head, not wanting to put the poor boy in an awkward position. This Mr. Kim seemed to like passing the buck onto innocent people. 

Jimin nodded. “Maybe just let your boss know that next time he should probably inform the person whose car he’s having towed…” 

Soobin laughed then, making light of an awkward situation even if it was forced. “Sure, sure.” 

“Okay, well, nice meeting you,” Jimin turned to you. “I’ll have this done by tomorrow, shouldn’t take too long, there’s not much damage at all.” You had the sudden urge to apologise for wasting his time but you stayed quiet. “You said you’ll be home by 7pm?” You nodded. “Great. Someone will drop it off shortly after that.” He tapped the side of his truck and smiled. “Have a lovely rest of your day, Y/N.” 

“Thank you, and you.” You waved him off – waved your car off too as Jimin started to drive and it disappeared into the distance, then you turned your attention back to Soobin. What was he doing here? 

On cue, he began to explain. “So, Mr. Kim is giving you a temporary loan of one of his cars for the time being, as apology and, well, a gesture of good faith. He really is awfully sorry about this morning.” There was silence as you made sense of his words. “The tank is full, no need for any expense on your side.” 

You forced yourself to speak. “Wait, hang on, he’s loaning me his car?” 

“One of them, yes,” Soobin smiled. One of them. How many did this man have? “He really doesn’t use this one, so don’t feel like you’re an inconvenience, it’s really no bother at all.” He pulled the key fob out of his pocket and handed it to you with a kind but awkward smile. “Here.” 

“So… I’m just riding his car home?” You’d told Jimin you’d call your best friend to pick you up when he’d offered you a ride home. You could still very well do that, but refusing this young man just seemed plain mean. After all, he had driven here despite a busy schedule. You didn’t want to waste his time. Poor boy was just doing what he was told, this Mr. Kim’s dogsbody. 

“Yes,” Soobin nodded, looking a little confused now. As if he was wondering why you weren’t understanding what he was saying. “Oh, wait,” he suddenly remembered, pulling a piece of paper (cream wove) out of his breast pocket. “Here’s a contact number for him to arrange the pick-up of the vehicle tomorrow evening. It might be me, but it depends on my schedule.”

“Okay,” you mumbled, still a little dazed, looking down at the number. You folded the paper and dropped it into your purse, suddenly realising something. “Wait, how are you getting home?”

“Hm?” He wasn’t expecting that question. “Oh, subway probably.” 

You anger flared once again. “So this Mr. Kim instructs you to ride one of his cars to my place of work, loan it to me and then expects you to just walk to the subway station?” 

Soobin blinked slowly a couple of times, hearing the attitude in your voice. “Well, when you say it like that you make it seem…bad. Your tone...” He shrugged and then gave a small laugh that wrinkled his nose. “I’m happy to walk, you know, exercise, get that blood pumping…” He finished with a few nimble stretches just to emphasise, before looking comically aghast. “Sorry. Ignore my unprofessionalism.” 

You jerked your head towards the car. “Get in.” 

His mouth hung open in confusion. “What?”

“I’ll give you a ride home. Do you live far?” 

“Not too far, Miss.” 

He waited for you to get into the driver’s seat and then followed quickly, getting in beside you. He couldn’t have wanted to walk that much then... “Call me Y/N.” You told him with a kind smile. “I don’t like all this professionalism. Besides, I get called Miss all day, every day. It gets tiring after a while.” 

He nodded dutifully in reply, back straight. 

.

.

You were on pins driving all the way home, eager to drop Soobin home so you could let go of your composure. This car was way too nice for you. Why did this stranger trust you with it?! His car. He didn’t know you. You could be the worst driver in the world for all he knew. You weren’t, but you could be. 

After you’d pulled up in your driveway you stayed there for a few minutes, needing some silence, just to calm yourself down, because you knew soon enough you’d get bombarded with questions. Sooner than you thought actually, because there was your front door ripping open, your best friend and roomie, Soojung, rushing out. “What is going on?” She demanded as you pushed the car door open. “Taken up car theft in your spare time?”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” you sighed, already trudging to the house. 

She followed behind closely. “Um, you’re talking about it alright. You can’t just park up in a car worth more than both our salaries a year and expect me to not bat an eyelid.” 

You scoffed at her dramatics, hanging your purse over the coat rack. “It’s not worth that much.” 

“Y/N, I mean this with the least possible offence, but you know absolutely jack shit about cars.” You had no time for a comeback. “Now tell me where the hell did you get that car?!”

After the third degree from Soojung for over an hour, you managed to shut her up with an in depth description of your car thief (as you were now calling him), which included in no particular order: what he looked like, his estimated age, his outfit and how rich you thought he was. You insisted you were in no way bothered by any of these factors and you were only humouring her for some much needed peace and quiet. She spent the next ten minutes begging you to call him and put him on loudspeaker so she could hear his voice, but you outright refused. You were not calling him tonight, you couldn’t trust yourself not to raise your voice. It could wait for tomorrow, when your first round of parent-teacher meetings were over and you had your own car back in your driveway. Mr. Kim could wait for his, it was the least he could do after all the trouble he’d caused today. You bet he had another six cars anyway – one for each day of the week. 

Soojung made you both a late dinner and not long after that you crawled your way to bed, exhausted and not at all mentally ready for tomorrow. You did wake up ten minutes before your alarm though, which you chose to take as a good sign, remembered your lunch too, and you hated to admit it, but your loaned vehicle drove like a dream once you weren’t so scared of accidentally careening it off a cliff, or something equally as impossible. 

You day actually went by without a hitch. All the children were well-behaved, much more subdued than yesterday, but maybe that was because your stress levels had rapidly decreased with the positive signs from this morning. They had raised a little when Mrs. Jeon from third grade had enquired about the new car she’d seen you driving into school, but after giving her a very much condensed version of yesterday’s events you both had a little laugh together, where she then proceeded to joke around and tell you that you shouldn’t give the car back… or at least you thought she was joking… However, other than that, the school day breezed by. 

Better yet, all the parents scheduled for meetings today were on time, and despite the rush end of year reports brought, you genuinely did love the opportunity to talk with your students’ parents one on one. You’d been teaching the first grade at the same school for over seven years now and despite the ups and downs being a teacher brought, it really was the most rewarding and fulfilling job. Especially at a school like this. This place was like a home to you, all you had ever known, and your students meant the world to you. Each and every one. Class sizes were always small at Primrose Hill, and that always made your connection with the kids even greater. 

There was always a sadness in your heart when May rolled around, the school year nearly over and you had to get ready to bid goodbye to the children who’d been a part of your life for over nine months. Of course, come September you would greet a new class of students once again, but it was always so bittersweet… 

It was just gone half past six now and you were waiting on the last parent of the evening. 5/6 parents on time was still a success. Hopefully Monday you would see full marks. You were waiting on the father of your newest student, Kim Arin. She’d only been with you two months, and it was very unusual that a child joined you so late into the year. You didn’t know all the details, but it seemed that her parents were divorced and she’d recently moved to live with her dad. You liked Arin, she was a sweet little girl, quite timid at times, especially in the beginning, but that was to be expected of course. It was always nerve-wracking to start a new school. She’d gradually come out of her shell, made friends and she was incredibly gifted in storytelling for such a young age. In a few years, if she kept it up, who knew what she’d be creating. You couldn’t wait to tell her father that. You’d grown very fond of her very quickly and you would definitely miss her come September. 

“Come in,” you called, a knock on your classroom door breaking you from your thoughts. Your back was to the entryway, preoccupied with collecting Arin’s report and classwork on your desk, so you didn’t see who entered, although presumably it was her father. 

“Oh, hello again.” 

You froze at the sound of the voice. That voice. Why was it so familiar? Why did it get your hackles up? As if you needed to prepare for a fight– Oh.

You turned abruptly, eyes wide as you came face to face with the car thief. What on earth was he doing here? Had he come to collect his car?! Maybe you should’ve rung him last night, but it seemed a little unbelievable that he was chasing this up so keenly. You weren’t the thief in question. He was. How insane was it to track you down like this. Who had given him your name? Who had told him what class you would be in? Surely it was forbidden? 

“If this is about the car business, we’ll have to sort it out later on, I’m expecting a parent of a student any minute now.” Straightening your back you held eye contact. He was very amused, eyes twinkling as he smiled at you, cheeks rounded. It made you feel slightly unnerved, but by damn had you forgotten how infuriatingly handsome that face of his was. Jerk. 

He held up his hand slightly and laughed. “I’m the parent in question.” 

“What?” 

You stood there limply like an idiot, blinking slowly as you tried to mentally put the pieces together. Kim Arin. Mr. Kim. Kim Seokjin, the arrogant, money can solve everything so-and-so was Arin’s father? Great. Absolutely gr–

“You’re Miss. Y/L/N?” 

“You’re Arin’s father?” It was obvious by now, but maybe there was that 0.001% chance he’d gotten the wrong classroom. Maybe. 

“Such a small world,” he grinned, all hope lost. He held out his hand for you to shake. “It’s nice to officially meet you.” 

There was a teasing to his tone, it got you pissed again, but you had to take it. You were in a professional setting now, you were his daughter’s teacher. His hand was warm, soft, grip gentle. Maybe you squeezed too hard, maybe he didn’t notice. “Please take a seat, I won’t be a minute.” 

Your tone was clipped, unable to sound at all breezy like you had with the other parents, and you turned back to your desk, rifling through more papers even though you had everything you needed. In all honesty, you just needed some thinking time. Get through this twenty minute meeting, you told yourself. Pretend like he wasn’t the man who hit your car and then got it towed a few hours later. You could do it. 

You felt him take the seat behind you, amusement still strong as he asked you a question. “So, are we just going to pretend yesterday didn’t happen?”

You collected Arin’s work and rounded your desk, taking a seat directly in front of him, careful to keep your expression neutral. “Right now’s not the time to discuss personal matters. Let’s just wait until this is over.” Twenty minutes and then he’d have it. He wouldn’t be smirking then. 

Although surprisingly, immediately after you said that he grew serious, nodding his head in agreement. “Of course. My apologies. Sorry I was late, by the way, I couldn’t escape the office.”

Taken back by his sudden change in demeanour you shook your head. “It’s fine.” You weren’t expecting it to be so easy, but he listened. 

“So,” he prompted when you didn’t follow up with anything. “Should we get started?”

You jolted, unaware you’d been lost in thought and silently cursed yourself. He was going to think an idiot was in charge of teaching his daughter. Not that it mattered what he thought, but still, you needed to snap out of it. He was here to talk about Arin and as her teacher you had plenty to say. 

Seokjin was highly focused throughout the whole meeting, taking on bored everything you had to say with earnest. He wanted to know how his daughter was getting on at her new school and was interested in all the work she had completed in the short amount of time she’d been here. He didn’t have to, but he gave you a small explanation about why she’d had to switch schools so late into the year, and even though you already knew it was because she’d moved to live with him, you stayed silent, letting him carry on. He sounded so genuine, so worried about what the move could’ve done to Arin’s education and mental health that it ended up touching you. It was visibly obvious how much he loved and cared for his daughter and that was refreshing to see. A lot of the time it was the mothers who attended these parent-teaching meetings, you rarely had the chance to speak to the dads, so you did relish in this opportunity, discussing Arin’s talent in creative writing in depth, showing Seokjin the collection of short stories she’d written, and giving him tips when he asked on ways she could improve. 

That would come with age, you said, but there was one small thing she may want to stop now rather than later. Her most recent story, a beautiful and creative fantasy piece that she unfortunately ended with the ‘it was all a dream’ trope. 

“What’s wrong with that?” Seokjin asked. You instantly sensed that his defensive was up. It made you smile as you gave a slight shrug. 

“Nothing per se, it can just be a little cliché. There’s much better ways to end a story.”

“Sure, but she’s only 6. It can’t be that serious?” 

Your smile grew. “I understand that, Mr. Kim. Like I said, Arin is truly gifted for her age, it was just a pointer that you asked for.” You wouldn’t have brought it up otherwise, but he seemed thoroughly into this discussion now. 

He tilted his head in thought. “What if it was the legitimate ending of a story? There’s obviously famous novels with such conclusions.”

Amused, you mimicked him. “For instance?”

“Hm?”

That caught him off guard. “What novels? Name me some.” 

His eyes grew comically wide at your request, and just as you suspected, he couldn’t answer. He chuckled, looking a little embarrassed. Was that a little colour on his cheeks? “You’ve put me on the spot.” 

You were both so engrossed discussing Arin that the time seemed to fly by. It was near to 7pm by the time you wrapped things up, and you’d enjoyed yourself so much you almost forgot you’d made a deal with yourself to start chewing Seokjin out the moment it was all over. He ever so kindly reminded you. 

“You know, I was expecting a very angry phone call last night. I was quite surprised when it never came.”

Both of you were now stood up, your desk still between you. Seokjin held copies of Arin’s stories that you’d given him to read over in his free time and you with nothing to fiddle with, folded your arms across your chest. Ah, here we go again. The playful lilt to his voice back from earlier, that infuriating smirk too. 

He was dressed in a much less flashy suit today. A simple slate grey two piece, his dark hair styled against his forehead, the smallest peek of forehead visible. It made him appear younger – not that he looked old anyway. Your guessing was mid 30s maybe, but this hairstyle made him appear softer. The faintest of lines around his eyes provided the slightest of giveaways, but then again, you only noticed them because you were searching for any clue to his age. His hair was still thick and dark and it definitely didn’t look like he dyed it. His body was… hm, he was built well. He certainly seemed to look after it. Not that you were looking, of course. 

You could definitely see the resemblance between him and Arin. Their eyes were the same almond shape, both deep brown in colour, and while their noses were slightly different, Arin’s cheeks obviously rounder, their plump lips were uncanny. 

Despite very much in thought, you kept your expression unreadable, nose in the air as you replied. “Perhaps I was too mad for words.”

He raised a perfectly sculpted eyebrow. If they were natural, life was incredibly unfair. “And now?”

“It would be unprofessional of me to start yelling at my place of work.” 

“You want to yell at me?” His eyes twinkled with silent laughter. It was obvious he was holding it in. 

You were glad he found this funny because you didn’t. No matter how much he’d impressed you as a father it still didn’t change yesterday. “You had no right just stealing my car like that.” 

He scoffed. “It was hardly stealing. Who steals a car to pay for the damage he caused?”

“I didn’t want you to pay!” 

He still looked baffled by your stubbornness. “That’s just absurd.”  

“You’re calling me absurd?”

He sighed. “Of course not.” He was getting flustered now, similar to yesterday. It was funny to watch. “I just…” He trailed off, catching the grin on your face. “You’re enjoying this.”

You rolled your eyes. “Yes, I love a complete stranger backing out into my car to then subsequently steal it from right under my nose.” 

He eyed you hesitantly. You knew he couldn’t tell if you were joking around or not. Your words and posture said no, but your eyes and lips gave it away eventually. “We’re still on this stealing business?” He paused, lips quirking. “Besides, I’m not a stranger. I’m your favourite student’s father.” 

You laughed in disbelief. This man was so full of himself. “I’m a teacher, I don’t do favouritism.”

“Oh?” He seemed sceptical. 

You shook your head, he really was unbelievable, but you couldn’t stop the smile that creeped its way to your mouth. “If that’s all, Mr. Kim.” You pointed to the door. It was getting late now, your car should be getting dropped off soon too. 

He chuckled as he started to make his exit, you following closely behind. When he stopped abruptly, turning back, you weren’t expecting him to be so close. You could notice the beginnings of stubble growing above his top lip, a sure sign you were in too close a proximity.

“She likes you a lot.” He murmured, serious once again. You wished he’d stop doing that. Was he an obnoxious rich jerk, or a caring, hardworking father? You would have gone with the former right before this meeting, now you had no clue. Maybe you’d gotten him all wrong. That would teach you for judging a book by its cover… 

“Arin,” he added, as if it wasn’t obvious. “She’s always speaking about you when I ask how her day went. You’re her favourite ever teacher.” He grinned then, laughing, amused by himself. 

You groaned. “Stop trying to guilt me.” He laughed harder, throwing his head back. Was all that true? Arin talked about you? You were her favourite teacher? Or was he just making it up for reaction? You didn’t ask. 

“Although, I will say it’s nice to put a face to the name now.” Maybe you didn’t need to ask. “Just wasn’t expecting it to be the woman whose car I drove into yesterday morning…”

No, neither were you. 

“I really am sorry about that.” 

He sounded nothing but sincere, you couldn’t not accept his apology, despite being still annoyed by what he had done afterwards. “You keep saying.” You gave an accepting sweep of your hand. “Let’s just forget about it, accidents happen, right?” 

“Right.” He gave a quick nod of his head, followed by a shrug. “…aand I guess you were parked behind me so…” 

You opened your mouth to refute such a claim but his laughter was so loud, so unlike his outer appearance, if that made any sense, (all high-pitched and squeaky almost), you were dazed for a moment, couldn’t help but join him – quietly so, but it was something. This man obviously thought he was hilarious. 

He opened the door, hand resting on the handle as he spoke again. At this rate the janitor would appear for his shift and you’d still be here talking to Seokjin. “Listen, I can’t find anyone to pick up my car tonight so how about tomorrow? Is that okay for you? You can give me a call in the morning and we’ll arrange a time suitable.” 

Oh yes, you’d forgotten all about that. Too distracted. By what? Him? “It’s fine. I can drop it off myself tomorrow.” 

He raised that perfect eyebrow again. “You can?”

You gave him an affirmative hum. Why was that so surprising to him? 

“How will you get home?”

Shoot. “Subway,” you thought quickly. 

“Are you sure?” He looked even more surprised, was about to suggest something else it seemed, until you spoke again. 

“Saves that kid wasting his weekend.” 

“Kid?” 

“Soobin.” No doubt he’d be the one to pick the vehicle up, being Seokjin’s personal assistant after all. You needed one of those. They could mark the children’s homework and plan your lessons…

“Oh. He really wouldn’t mind,” Seokjin reassured. 

“Really?” It was your turn to raise an eyebrow. Both of them actually, but they weren’t as devastatingly shaped as his. That reminded you, you needed to get them threaded again soon. “Poor boy was about to trek to the station yesterday before I offered him a ride.”

“You took him home? He didn’t tell me that.” Seokjin sounded surprised. 

“I wasn’t going to let him walk after he went to all that trouble for me.” 

He nodded in understanding. “You’re very kind.” 

You felt a little panicky, unable to read his reaction very well. “He won’t get into trouble?” You couldn’t see why he would, but you never know. 

“No,” Seokjin laughed. “Is that what you think of me?”

You shook your head. “Of course not, I was just…” You stopped, unsure what to say.

“I wonder what you do think of me,” he pondered, voice low, lips curled. 

“I don’t think it really matters what I think of you.” You replied cryptically. 

He liked that, chuckling softly. “Can’t a guy be curious?” You remained tight lipped. “My employees love working for me, for your information.” He added. Maybe as damage control, who knew. 

You rolled your eyes for the second time this evening. “You’re very full of yourself, Mr. Kim.” 

“Please, call me Seokjin,” he requested. 

You nodded, but you still didn’t think you were at that type of pleasantry yet. You could think of him as Seokjin but to say it aloud felt wrong almost, you didn’t know him. Thinking about it, it wouldn’t really matter come tomorrow anyway.

You watched him pull out a small notebook and an expensive looking pen from his inner jacket pocket, holding the copies of Arin’s stories under his arm as he used the door for support to write his address down for you. Ripping out the page perfectly, he passed it to you with a smile. “Drop the car off around 3pm. I should be long done at the office by then.” 

He was working on the weekend? He certainly was a busy man. Who looked after Arin while he wasn’t there? These curiosities you had couldn’t very well be asked, not unless you wanted to appear nosey and overstep the mark… 

“Okay,” you replied. “Then we arrange repayment.”

“Repayment?” He looked bewildered. “You’re not paying me back.” 

“I am.” 

“You’re not.” His tone was stern. You could be sterner, you were sure of it. 

“I am.” You insisted, staring him down. “The mechanic informed me yesterday that you’d be charged separately because he had to wait an extra half hour.” 

“Oh, that.” He shook a hand. “I knew that might happen because I was uncertain when you finished work. It’s really no bother.” 

No bother? Was this man adamant to hear you raise your voice? “I’m paying you back.” 

He feigned confusion, teasing you. “I don’t think you are.” 

“I – Look, we’ll sort this out tomorrow.” You’d be here arguing until Monday otherwise. 

He scoffed. “There’s nothing to sort out.” 

You shot him glare. It was a warning. Tomorrow you’d let him have a piece of your mind if he continued to refuse. You didn’t think he took it seriously. 

.

.

“I’m sorry, but you can’t just sit here and I say he wasn’t flirting with you.” 

“He wasn’t.” You were adamant. Soojung had made you relay your whole conversation with Seokjin as soon as you’d let slip this evening’s revelation. You were regretting it now. You were trapped on this couch forced to listen to her insane claims. There was no way in hell that man had been flirting with you. 

“You were definitely flirting back.” 

You felt yourself flush, voice raising as you insisted that she was wrong. “As if.” She shot you a look that told you she didn’t believe a word. “He’s rich and arrogant.” 

She laughed. “You say rich as if it’s a bad thing.” 

It wasn’t a bad thing, it just wasn’t your thing, but if rich made him smug and think he could throw his money around when you’d explicitly stated you didn’t want him too, then yes, it was a bad thing. 

“I wonder how loaded he really is…” Soojung thought aloud. “Millionaire status? He didn’t say where he worked?” 

“Didn’t come up,” you replied shortly. You were done talking about him now. In your eyes it was nearly over. Your car was back in its rightful place on your driveway and Seokjin’s would soon follow in its rightful place – surrounded by a handful of others. You would never have to see that frustrating man ever again – hopefully. 

“Find out tomorrow.” 

“I am not finding out tomorrow,” you exclaimed. It wasn’t important. He worked in an office, nothing out of this world amazing. “I’m just going to drop off his car, write out a cheque and be on my merry little way.” 

Soojung snorted. “Bitch, you’re going to be repaying him back a dollar a week.” You glared at her but she wasn’t fazed. “There’s no way you can afford it. He probably uses the most expensive mechanic in the city.” 

“Shut up.” You didn’t care if you had to use your savings account. He was getting his money back one way or the other. You refused to be indebted to him. You were a little nervous though… “It can’t be that much. He only had to repaint some scratches,” you worried.

Your best friend ignored you, nestling in closer, an overjoyed grin on her face. “Tell me again, is he dishy?”

You sighed – loudly. Why couldn’t she let the topic drop? “I’ve already described him to you, and besides, that’s not the point.” 

She wriggled her eyebrows suggestively. “So that’s a yes then. You’re into the Dilf!” 

You didn’t bother replying, instead choosing to throw a cushion at her. She was unbelievable. But why did her teasing annoy you so much right now? 

Saturday and Sunday’s always allowed you to sleep in, although 8am probably wasn’t what most called late. You liked to make the most of your weekends and today was no different. After breakfast you showered and got ready, putting aside an hour to go over the student reports for Monday instead of wasting your Sunday night instead. You and Soojung had made plans to go out for coffee late morning as it was rare to see her free on a Saturday. She worked hectic and last minute hours as a department store manager, but she’d finally bargained her first full weekend off in months. 

Somehow your coffee turned into a little bit of a shopping spree, your credit card violently cursing you, but after the past few days you’d had you couldn’t find it in you to give a damn. You ate a late lunch at a one of your favourite cafés and then sadly, it was time to rush home and drop off Seokjin’s car back to him. You were very much dreading it – happy it would soon be over, don’t get you wrong, it was just the thought was making you all fidgety and nervous. Soojung wasn’t making it any better, she wouldn’t shut up about it, trying her best to get you give his address up. As if. You knew better than that. She’d be straight on her phone, google maps up in an instant. 

You said a begrudging goodbye to her half 2, promising you’d call her straight away with all the details once you were done. She was spending the night at her boyfriend Taehyung’s house tonight but that still wouldn’t stop her innate need for gossip. Your phone acted as GPS on the way to Seokjin’s house, having no idea how to use the fancy one in his car. Not that any of it helped. His house seemed impossible to find. It did not take the predicted twenty minutes your phone told you. No, it was near forty by the time you finally found the concealed long road you’d driven past three times that led to it. 

You came to a stop outside a pair of intimidatingly large gates and nearly choked when you saw his house. Well, you couldn’t really call it that. It was a mansion. Eight times the size of the house you and Soojung rented together, maybe more. He really was loaded. You just hadn’t realised how loaded until now. You felt a little sick as you spotted the intercom system on the wall, wondering if you could just ditch the car here and run as fast as your legs could carry you. Why had you not just let Seokjin arrange someone to pick it up from your house? Why were you always so stubborn?! 

Taking a deep breath you got out of the vehicle and walked over to the intercom, feeling partial relief to find it didn’t have a camera attached. You would absolutely die of shame otherwise, hopelessly unphotogenic and camera shy. Your teacher’s ID card would forever haunt you. 

It rang for a few moments before a woman picked up. “Hello, may I ask who it is?”

You weren’t expecting the female voice so you were stumped for a moment, stumbling over your words before you managed to settle on something helpful. “Hi, yes, this is Arin’s teacher, Miss. Y/L/N. I’m here to return the car Mr. Kim loaned me…” 

“Hello, love” the woman greeted sweetly. “Drive up to the front of the house. I won’t be a moment.”

“Okay.” You were thankful she hung up first because you let out a shriek when the gates started automatically opening. You dreaded to think if there were security cameras near. 

With a delay you got back into the car and started it up again, thoughts a little preoccupied now that it wasn’t Seokjin who’d picked up. You’d taken it he lived alone, not that he’d told you that. Maybe he had a new girlfriend, you were unsure how long he’d been divorced for. Although you didn’t recall Arin mentioning a woman’s name when she talked about her father. Not that you’d like to admit it, but you’d spent a generous portion of time last night while you waited for sleep trying to recall times when Arin had mentioned Seokjin. You didn’t know why, curiosity you guessed. 

But anyway, if Seokjin in fact did have a new partner, then you also guessed Soojung’s theory was incorrect. He had not been flirting with you. Which wasn’t a surprise. It had been a long time since a guy had flirted with you… You were probably to blame there, but it didn’t particularly bother you. Your life was busy enough as it was, throw in a man and you’d hit your breaking point. 

The woman who’d answered the call was waiting for you outside as you pulled up, older than her voice had made her seem. You stopped the car and got out, greeting her. 

“Hi, nice to meet you. I’m Arin’s Nanny, Misook.” 

Oh. That made sense. You guessed your imagination had run wild with you for a few unexplainable moments. You felt almost embarrassed as you stood there awkwardly. Was she going to take the keys? Could you leave? 

“Please come in.” She smiled kindly. “Seokjin won’t be long, he’s just showering, work ran late.”

Come in?! Oh no, no, no. That wasn’t part of the plan. It was drop the keys and run. However, like a fool, you were unable to say no, looking behind you at Seokjin’s vehicle. “Is the car okay here?”

“Of course,” she nodded. “He’ll place it in the garage later. Follow me.” She turned her back and started making her way inside. 

You followed with heavy feet, not quite ready for this. Your first three encounters/dealings with Seokjin had been interesting to say the least. How would the fourth go? You felt a little rude entering your way inside his house (mansion) but Misook wouldn’t have invited you inside if it wasn’t okay, right? Maybe Seokjin wanted you here… 

“Make yourself comfortable while you wait.” Misook said once you’d taken off your pumps and she’d led you to the room nearest the entryway. The living room? The lounge? The family room? You didn’t know what else to call it, descriptions too basic for this grand home. 

Not that the décor and furniture were too elaborate. In fact, everything looked so homely and cosy inside. The couch was definitely leather but the throw draped over it and the cushions out of place made it look lived in. The colour scheme was minimalistic, walls cream, accents mostly teal blue and grey. Seokjin had style, or perhaps he’d hired an interior designer. You suddenly wondered what the rest of his home looked like. 

“Do you want anything to drink? Anything to eat? I’m just making Arin a snack.” Misook offered, but you immediately shook your head, not wanting to put her out. 

“Oh, no thank you. I ate before I left.” 

She nodded and left the room, leaving you to your own devices in a stranger’s house. The stranger who had hit your car and then proceeded to steal it from right under your nose. The stranger who had let you borrow his car and the stranger who was Arin’s dad. The world worked in mysterious ways. Or it was just mere coincidence, whatever. 

You perched yourself on the end of the teal love seat nearest the large bay window, fluffing up the cushion behind you to at least look a little comfortable. You looked around the room casually, spotting a hardback book on the coffee table – The Rough Guide to the 100 Best Places on Earth. Did Seokjin like to travel? With a seemingly busy lifestyle and a child it seemed pretty impossible. Maybe he just liked to dream? Maybe he’d travelled in his younger days? Wait, why were you thinking about these things? You looked over to the impressive brick fireplace, the obvious focal point of the room; it was stunning. A chunk of waxed driftwood sat above it, acting as a shelf and in the middle of it was a photo of Arin and Seokjin in a silver frame. Both their faces filled the image, grinning widely and they really did look so alike. You found yourself smiling, jumping a little when you heard your name. 

“Miss. Y/L/N!”

You followed the tiny excited voice, finding Arin in the doorway smiling shyly at you. She gave you a little wave. 

“Hi, Arin,” you greeted. 

That was all she needed to skip inside, sitting on the end of the couch closest to you. “Daddy told me you were coming today.” Well, at least she wasn’t surprised to find you in her living room. “He told me what he did. Silly daddy.” 

You let out a polite laugh. “It’s okay, accidents happen, huh?” You couldn’t very well say your daddy was an idiot, could you? “How are you today, Arin?” You asked, changing the subject, finding yourself in teacher mode instantly. “Do you have any plans?” 

“I’m okay,” she let out a comical sigh. “Daddy is taking me bowling.”

“That sounds like fun. Why are you sighing?” 

“I was supposed to see my mom but she was too busy…” She answered rather dejectedly. 

“Oh, that’s too bad.” You tried to think of something to say to reassure that little sad face of hers. “I’m sure she’s just as disappointed.” 

Arin gave a little shrug. “She’s always busy.” 

In the two months you’d been her teacher you’d never seen her mood like this. Yes, for her first week in class she’d been quiet, but that was because of nerves, today she looked deflated. You found yourself struggling for something to say, which was unlike you, especially with all your training. It was your job to reassure children after all. 

“I’m so sorry to keep you waiting.” 

Your head jerked up at the sound of Seokjin’s voice. There he was in the doorway, smiling your way. There was something different about him. What was it? Oh – his clothing. You noticed eventually. He was dressed incredibly casual today – normal. A beige coloured sweater and dark blue jeans. His hair wasn’t styled, flat to his forehead and still partly wet, his skin flushed from the heat of the shower.  You still couldn’t place his age. You were sure he was older than you, but by how much was difficult to say. 

“Mr. Kim, hi,” you greeted, standing up for some reason. You still couldn’t bring yourself to call him Seokjin unless it was in your own head. 

He walked towards you, in slippers. You didn’t know why but the thought was so bizarre. You were being ridiculous. Of course he wore slippers, why wouldn’t he? 

“Daddyyy,” Arin sung, running towards him and hugging his legs. She looked up at him, asking sweetly, “Are we ready to go?”

He chuckled, rubbing her hair. “Soon, sweetie. Go and find Misook in the kitchen so you can have your snack before we leave.” 

She looked at him coyly. “Can we have pizza later?”

He laughed again and gave a small shrug. “Sure. As a weekend treat.” 

You watched on, not realising there was a smile on you face. They were cute together. You noticed Arin peeking at you, then she looked up at her father again. “Is Miss Y/L/N coming too?”

Seokjin had the brazenness to look across at you, raising his eyebrows expectantly, as if it was your call. Was he insane? Not only was it implausible, it was downright unprofessional. You were Arin’s teacher. Yes, for just a few more weeks, but this interaction was already out of your comfort zone. 

“Uh,” you started, feeling awkward. “No, sorry, Arin. I, um, I have plans today.” 

You didn’t want to let her down, but luckily she didn’t seem to mind, giving you a roll of her shoulders and a cute smile. “Okay. See on you on Monday, Miss.” And off she skipped, out the door and to where you presumed was the direction of the kitchen. 

“Sorry about that,” Seokjin chuckled, stepping closer, as if he hadn’t pretty much invited you himself. What if you’d said yes? He’d have been okay with that? 

You felt yourself begin to heat up at the close proximity. You had no idea why he made you feel like this, especially now. You’d handled it so well yesterday, but then again, maybe that was because there’d been a desk separating you. In a professional setting. Right now you were out of your comfort zone, out of your depth. In his home, in his living room, a mere few inches between you both. Why did you find it so intimidating? Why did you find him so intimidating?!

That face… That face with that infuriating smile, and those eyes that seemed to twinkle with amusement, as if there was a joke you weren’t aware of. Multiple jokes. What did he find so funny? Was it you? You felt instantly defensive. He probably used those good looks to unease people, to make them do as he wanted. Not you. 

You took a step back, your legs brushing the love seat behind you, and reached for your purse, pulling out your cheque book. “So,” you began, hating the way your voice faintly shook. “Let’s settle. How much do I owe you?” 

His smile instantly disappeared as he rolled his eyes slightly. You caught them and it made you want to fight. “You’re still on this.” 

“Yes, I am,” you bristled “They washed my car too.” 

“Don’t look at me like that,” he groaned. “It was part of the service.”

“Just tell me how much I owe you.” You were adamant. 

“No.” So was he. 

“Mr. Kim.” 

“Seokjin,” he corrected, a small smug smile on his face. 

“Tell me!” 

He brought a hand to his temple, tapping the skin with his fingers as he let out a grunt. “You know what, I can’t seem to remember. It’s been a busy week, memory’s a little fuzzy.” The grin on his face told he was messing with you. 

What an exasperating bastard. You didn’t swear often, but he’d just driven you to it. Any more and it was out loud. Maybe your face gave something away because he soon changed his tune, falling serious, like he could so magically do sometimes. “Look, it was my fault, so I paid.” 

You wanted to scream. “What if I had an accident in your car? Would I have to pay the damage?” 

Instantly he looked worried, those perfect eyebrows furrowing in alarm. “Have you? Are you okay?” 

It looked like he was about to reach out a hand to comfort you, and you panicked, rushing into explanation, taken back by his concern. “No, I’m fine. I-I was just being hypothetical.” He looked confused. “By your logic, I would have to pay, right?” 

“My logic,” he mused, chuckling softly. “I’m just doing the correct thing. But yes, I suppose you’d have to pay.” He gave a shrug, that annoying smile back on his face. “Good thing there were no accidents then.” 

He was probably right. You weren’t that angry to prove a point. You’d probably have to take a lifetime loan to pay the damage off. You felt defeated. What more could you do? Write out a cheque for a guesstimated amount? Imagine the humiliation if you totally undervalued it. No, maybe you should just let it go. Bite your tongue and take this “gift” from a stranger. He had backed out into your car after all, regardless if you were hovering there, he just hadn’t been paying attention. He felt a guilt, a need to repair the damage caused so you’d just let him, even if it went against everything you believed in – your morals. He could obviously afford it and never miss the money. 

So you let him win this one, let him walk you to the door before you were late for those important plans that may or may not involve being sat in front of the television all evening watching sitcom reruns on the comedy channel. (He didn’t know that of course.) 

“Alice in Wonderland,” he said suddenly, just as you were coming to a halt by the grand wooden door. You turned to see him grinning and looked at him questioningly. What on earth was he on about? “A famous novel that uses that ‘it was all a dream’ trope you hate.” 

You raised an eyebrow. “I think someone may have been on google last night.”  

He held up his hands. “Guilty as charged.” 

You let yourself laugh, genuinely amused. You weren’t so nervy now, as comfortable in his presence as you were going to get. “Goodbye, Mr. Kim.” 

He tutted. “If you call me that one more time I’ll be forced to take that cheque from you.”

Really? Interesting… “Mr –

“I take it back,” he interrupted quickly, realising his mistake. “But please, call me Seokjin. I get called too many formalities within the week, I hate it.” 

You had to agree with that, you knew that feeling all too well. “Fine,” you gave in. “Goodbye, Seokjin.” There, you’d bitten the bullet. Calling him by his name aloud made you feel funny. “Thank you for… everything.” 

He mulled over your gratitude, seemingly satisfied. “I’ll take that.” You ignored him and turned to leave. He stopped you, his hand touching your elbow and warmth spread throughout your body instantly. “Are you really taking the subway home?”

You nodded. 

He looked dubious. “The nearest station is quite a walk from here.”

“How far?” Now you were too. 

“Let me give you a ride there.” He offered. “I’m taking Arin downtown anyway. Her plans with her mom got changed last minute so I’m trying to cheer her up.” At the mention of his ex-wife  his voice became tense, his expression darkening for a moment before he shook himself out of it, a smile back on his face. “So, what do you say?” 

“Okay.” You agreed, smiling back. “You can drop me off.” In all honesty, you had no clue where you were going anyway, this part of the city unfamiliar to you. That, and your cell phone had only 20% battery life left after the palaver of trying to get yourself here. Driving you to the station wasn’t going to put him out so it was fine. 

“Great. Oh, by the way,” he slipped in, as if he’d suddenly remembered something. Or maybe he was just trying to sound casual. “Are you ever going to tell me your name or do I have to live in mystery for the rest of my life?” 

You grew surprised. Of course, he didn’t know your name. You’d never told him. Maybe subconsciously you’d imagined Soobin would’ve relayed that piece of information back to him, or maybe, and most likely, you’d never actually thought about it at all. No wonder you hadn’t realised. You felt almost rude. 

“It’s only fair,” Seokjin said, mistaking your silence as indecision. “You know mine, and I can’t keep referring to you as Miss. Y/L/N. It’s a bit strange, don’t you think?” 

That was interesting. When was he planning to refer to you again at all? Not that you needed to be persuaded. But you were being polite, that’s what you told yourself. You knew his name so like he’d said, it was only fair. There was no other reason, and of course the idea of him being curious about your name made you feel nothing whatsoever. Okay? 

You gave him a quick smile, feeling a little coy for some reason. “It’s Y/N.” 

“Y/N,” he repeated, murmuring it softly as the mystery unveiled itself. 

That was dangerous. Hearing the syllables roll from his tongue so gently sent a rush of heat through your body. It settled on your face, tingling, and you prayed it wasn’t visible. 

What the hell was wrong with you?! 

Written 2020 - 2021.  Please refrain from posting my work elsewhere. No translations allowed. © floralseokjin 2021

[sequinsmile-x]

Gentle

Well, it’s been a HELL of a 24 hours in the Hotchniss fandom, and I thought we could all do with some fluff. So, here it is in the form of a domestic Hotchniss mini-fic.

This is set in my Full House universe, which also has a follow up called Empty Nest 

Words: 2,242

TW: Pregnancy/Sickness/Labour 

It was her turn to put Ivy to bed, the little girl insisting for once that Emily did it. She didn’t complain, her daughter's requests were so rare for her that she jumped at the chance to do it. To watch her fight sleep as she read her a story, her grip on Emily’s clothing loosening as sleep finally won out. 

Emily gently closes the bedroom door behind her and goes in search of her husband. She has to stop when she gets to the bottom of the stairs, breathlessness caused by the baby in her belly still taking her by surprise even at this stage of her second pregnancy. She feels her little girl shift around and smiles. She spots the dining room light is on and walks towards it, seeing her husband sitting at the table, intently watching his screen, headphones on. 

He spots her almost immediately, and closes the laptop so quickly it makes her raise a brow at him. He takes his headphones off, and attempts to look nonchalant.  She rounds the dining room table and stands next to him, hip resting against him as he sits. 

“You know I don’t mind if you watch porn, honey. I’d just rather you didn’t watch it where our children eat breakfast.” 

Aaron flushes immediately, an outraged look flooding his face as he looks at her. “I am not watching porn, Emily.” 

She holds her hands up and can’t help the smile that blooms on her face at his irritation. “Well what are you watching then?” 

He sighs and opens the laptop, the screen displaying a YouTube video of a woman braiding a little girl's hair. 

“Ok, not what I was expecting.” She lowers herself into the chair next to him, hand pressed into her baby bump as she does so, a grateful smile aimed at him as he helps her settle. 

Aaron places his hand on her belly, smiling when he feels their daughter move around under Emily’s skin. “Ivy keeps insisting that I do her hair.” 

“Because you’re her favourite.” Emily grumbles, the irritation in her tone fake as given away by her still present smile. It irked her sometimes, that their daughter was obsessed with Aaron when she was the one who had brought her into this world, but then she’d see them together and her heart would melt. 

Ivy was always seeking Aaron out, wanting to curl up in his lap at any opportunity, or be carried by him everywhere. The way they looked at each other made Emily’s entire body sing with happiness, and it made every single thing that they had been through, together and apart, seem worth it.

That didn’t mean she wasn’t currently holding out hope that the baby she was currently pregnant with would be a mommy’s girl. It seemed only fair. 

“Ivy keeps insisting that I do her hair.” He repeats, ignoring her comment about favouritism. “And I want to make sure I do a good job.” 

He gestures towards the notebook next to the laptop, and that's when she realises he had been taking notes. 

Emily has to bite her lip to stop the pure happiness that bursts in her chest from pouring out. Not for the first time she was wondering how on earth she had gotten so lucky to marry Aaron, to have his children. She still berated herself sometimes for not noticing him sooner, for the time they had lost in the years where they both just ignored what was clearly there. 

“I love you so much.” She says, the words flowing from her so easily. “You’re such a good dad.” 

Aaron smiles at her, and dutifully ignores the fact that she absolutely has tears in her eyes, a complete slave to her hormones at this late stage of her pregnancy. “I love you too, and you’re an amazing mom.” 

She smiles at that, and a tear falls onto her face which she quickly wipes away, her frustration at her constantly wavering emotions clear. “You are so getting lucky tonight, Agent Hotchner.”

“Oh really?” 

“Yes. As soon as you help get me out of this chair.” 

______

Emily yawns as she reaches the bottom of the stairs the next morning, excited to drink the one caffeinated drink she was allowed a day, and is stopped in her tracks at the adorable sight in front of her. 

Ivy is sitting on the kitchen counter, something that would usually make her nervous, with Aaron standing behind her putting the finishing touches on her hair, two dutch braids holding their 2 year olds unruly hair into place. Emily wonders how on earth their tiny daughter managed to convince Aaron to braid her hair before 7am on a Sunday, but it didn’t overly surprise her. The little girl was quickly learning there wasn’t much she couldn’t get her father to do. 

“Daddy done?” Ivy’s sweet little voice asks, shifting on the counter like she’d been sitting there patiently for hours, when Emily knew it was likely only minutes. 

Aaron chuckles and Emily watches as he secures the final hair tie. “Almost, sweetheart. You certainly got Mommy’s patience as well as her hair, huh?” 

The look he throws over his shoulder lets her know that comment was purely for her, his first acknowledgement that she was in the room. She rolls her eyes at him and walks over, pressing a kiss to his cheek as she joins them at the counter. “Is Jack up?” 

“He’s awake but still in bed.” He explains as he finishes his task, immediately picking Ivy up and hoisting her onto his hip. “All done.” 

Emily smiles as her daughter grins. “You look so pretty, baby.” She leans forward and presses a kiss to Ivy’s cheek. “Maybe Daddy should do my hair.” 

Ivy frowns at that, her grasp on Aaron’s pyjama shirt tightening. “No, my Daddy.” 

Emily narrows her eyes at her husband when he laughs. “Well, how about Daddy makes us all breakfast?” She tickles the little girl's belly, smiling when a laugh escapes her. “And you and me go watch some cartoons?” 

Ivy seems to consider it for a second before nodding, reaching for her mother with tiny hands. Emily gladly accepts her, shooting down any protests from Aaron on whether she should be carrying her when she’s 8 months pregnant with a single raised eyebrow, and holds her daughter close. 

Emily presses a kiss to the little girl's head. “What do we think for breakfast? Pancakes?” Ivy nods enthusiastically and Emily smiles at her husband over their daughters head. “Pancakes it is.” 

Aaron rolls his eyes but is already getting the pans out by the time Emily leaves the kitchen. She walks to the living room and places Ivy down on the couch before sitting next to her, the little girl immediately cuddling into her mother’s side, her hand pressed on her belly. 

“Baby.” 

Emily looks down at her daughter and pulls her slightly closer, lamenting briefly that her bump made it close to impossible. “That’s right, sweetie. Baby.” 

Ivy frowns slightly at that, a look that makes her look exactly like Aaron, no matter what he said. She then cuddles into Emily, tiny hands grabbing at her shirt. “My Mama.” 

Emily smothers a laugh by biting her lip, and mentally makes a note that they will have to talk to their daughter about sharing, again, before the baby arrives.

_________

He looks so worried when he enters her hospital room it makes her heart ache. Aaron gently slips into the room and closes the door behind him, their hours old baby in his arms. 

“Hey, honey.” Emily rasps out, cringing at how exhausted she sounded even to herself. “You ok?” 

Aaron fixes a look at her and walks over, sitting on the edge of her hospital bed. Expertly holding their tiny daughter with one hand so he can grasp one of Emily’s in his own. “No, I am not ok. You almost died.” 

She tilts her head at him and smiles, her chapped lips sticking together. “I’m fine, Aaron.”

“You lost half your blood volume, Emily.” 

“Hey.” She reaches up with her other hand and cups his cheek, the terror in his voice briefly overriding her need to hold her baby. “I’m ok. It was scary as hell, and I can’t imagine what it must have been like to watch, but I’m ok.” She smiles as he presses a kiss to her palm. “She’s ok too, right?”

He smiles then, the first real one since he walked into the room, and looks down at the sleeping bundle in his arms. “She’s perfect.” 

“Can I hold her?” She had only held her for a fleeting second before everything went wrong, the baby snatched from her chest as quickly as she had been placed there when things started to get really hazy, really fast. 

Aaron doesn’t hesitate. “Of course.” He passes their newborn daughter into her arms, careful not to knock any of the many IVs Emily has attached to her following the emergency that had come shortly after their youngest’s birth. 

Emily smiles broadly at her newborn. “Hi sweet girl. Hi Audrey. You’re so beautiful.” She raises her up, her arms feeling weak, and presses a kiss to the baby’s head. “You look just like your sister did when she was a little baby.” 

“You mean she looks just like you.” Aaron says, reaching forward to straighten the cannula Emily had her nose that was delivering oxygen to her. “I called Jessica, she’s going to bring the kids by in the morning. I’ve held the team off too, I thought you’d appreciate some time after what happened.” 

She tears her eyes off of her baby and looks at her husband. “Thank you, I don’t really feel up to any visitors right now.” She looks back down at Audrey. “Plus I must look a state.” 

“You look beautiful.” 

Emily looks up at him with a raised brow. “You’re a liar, but you’re sweet.” She looks at Audrey. “Daddy is lying, Mommy looks terrible but you’re worth it.” 

She flicks her head back, the hair that had been in the loose bun she had put it in at the start of labour escaping into her face. She makes a frustrated noise when it immediately falls back. 

Aaron looks at her and gets off the bed in search for her hospital bag, digging through it until he finds her hairbrush. He moves back towards the bed. “Shift forward a bit.” 

Emily looks up at him questioningly and shakes her head when she realises what he’s offering to do. “Oh, Aaron no. My hair is disgusting.” 

“Em, sweetheart, we’re married. I’ve seen worse. You do remember your bachelorette party right? Or the aftermath at least.” 

She knows if she was well enough she would have blushed, memories of him sitting with her on the bathroom floor when she was throwing up, cursing the day Penelope Garcia was born. Crying as he wiped tears, and vomit, from her face whilst she asked if he was still sure he wanted to marry her. 

“Fair point.” She says, wincing as she moves forward enough for him to slip in behind her. Audrey cries out, and Emily’s attention is immediately back on her baby, soothing her with gently rocking and noises as Aaron does her hair.

“I’ll be gentle.”

“You always are unless I ask you not to be.” She quips, smiling when he grips her shoulder and mumbles something about her being ridiculous under his breath. 

She sits there and feels as he brushes it through, trying not to cringe when stringy parts of it fall in her face as she thinks about how much she really needs a shower. It feels nice when he braids it, being as gentle with her as he is with Ivy, and she thinks it might be one of the most intimate things he’s ever done for her. 

When he’s done he flicks the braid over her shoulder and pulls her back to rest against him, placing the brush on the bedside cabinet. 

“Thank you.” She says softly, leaning her temple against his. “Ivy would be jealous.” 

He laughs, wrapping his arms around her. “She can never know.” 

Emily lifts Audrey to kiss her again, marvelling in the smell of her baby’s skin. “I better be your favourite, little one. Considering I almost just died bringing you into this world.”

���Emily.”

“Too soon?”

_________

All of their daughters, including the twins when they come along, end up insisting Aaron does their hair, and over the years the styles he can do get more elaborate. 

It’s something she never shares with anyone, not even JJ and Penelope, because she knows he would be embarrassed by it, even though it was one of her favourite things about him. How much he loved their children, how absurd his huge hands looked braiding the hair of tiny little girls, so gentle in his touch that they never complained. 

Years down the line when Ivy gets married she nervously asks Aaron if he’d do her hair for the day, one final reminder of her childhood, something he hadn’t done in a long, long time. 

He’s thrilled. But insists on practising on Emily since he swears he is rusty at it now, the times when the girls would line up in the living room to get him to do their hair long gone. A fleeting memory of when they were small, and their house was full. 

Emily lets him, and playfully argues with him as he insists on trying just one more time. She tells him, having had one drink too many at her eldest daughter's wedding, that she’s always liked him doing her hair too. 

[astradrifting]

GRRM really created so many parallels and foreshadow using the DoD characters that honestly we could just figure the asoiaf ending by analyzing it. My favorite is the Aegon III-D@ny parallels, the fact that one of his closest allies was a face-scarred Master of coin Lannister who ended as Hand to Bran' parallel character just make it so obvious its funny.

Oh my god I didn’t even realise Tyland Lannister was initially on the greens’ side! I’m not super fond of Tyrion ending up as Hand, but you’re right that it’s so obviously meant to reference him. There’s so many parallels that it’s a little crazy. I don’t want to say that the second Dance will end exactly as the first did, it’d be a little too neat if history repeated entirely, but you can see so many echoes of it even in the show’s bastardised ending.

“The broken, shattered realm suffered for a while yet, but the Dance of the Dragons was done. Now what awaited the realm was the False Dawn, the Hour of the Wolf, the rule of the regents, and the Broken King.”

(TWOIAF, Aegon II)

I’m not sure what the False Dawn is going to parallel to, it refers to the period of time after Aegon II’s death but before Lord Stark got to King’s Landing, when people thought that peace had finally come. It kind of brings to mind the War for the Dawn, though personally I think that the threat of the Others will be resolved before the Dance is over. The Hour of the Wolf is obviously about House Stark’s rise back to power, and the Broken King is Bran - though if he actually becomes known as Bran the Broken I might end up committing violence ¯\_(ツ)_/¯. 

The parts about Lord Corlys Velaryon are why I’m so hopeful that Jon’s book ending will be completely different from the show’s. He’s arrested for Aegon II’s death by Cregan Stark, even though Cregan had previously declared for Rhaenyra, because as TWOIAF puts it, “to kill a cruel and unjust king in lawful battle was one thing. But foul murder, and the use of poison, was a betrayal against the very gods who had anointed him.”

Corlys didn’t deny his guilt, and expressed no regret. “What I did, I did for the good of the realm. I would do the same again. The madness had to end.”

Cregan Stark declared him to be guilty of murder, regicide, and high treason, and he was sentenced to execution. But many spoke in his defence, even people who had fought against him in the Dance. Baela and Rhaena Targaryen, Corlys’ granddaughters and Aegon III’s half-sisters, convinced Aegon to issue an edict pardoning Lord Velaryon, which Alysanne Blackwood then convinced Cregan to let stand. Lord Velaryon was pardoned and even restored to his offices and honours, made one of the king’s regents and given a place on the small council.

Corlys’ words definitely could be Jon’s as well, a much more in-character declaration post-D@ny’s death than the drivel GoT tried to feed us. I was worried for a bit that this would be how Tyrion is let off scot-free, but Baela and Rhaena, who were vital to his release, are such obvious Arya and Sansa stand-ins, and they’re certainly not going to expend any effort in helping Tyrion. So Corlys’ circumstances more likely lays the groundwork for how Jon will be freed and remain in political power, while Tyland frankly inexplicably becoming Aegon III’s Hand after he was in favour of brutally killing him parallels Tyrion managing to fail up, as a way of reconciling the old regime with the new one.

This makes Tyrion becoming Hand more palatable IMO. Either Jon and Tyrion both should have been punished or neither should have been punished, not the travesty where Tyrion gets everything he’s ever wanted while Jon is exiled to a Watch with no purpose and a Wall that’s already half-collapsed, so what exactly can it protect against? I suppose they were afraid of seemingly rewarding Jon for killing d@ny, especially if pol!Jon had been revealed, but most people noticed how nonsensical his ending was, and it just led to ‘Bloodraven/Bran is the real villain’ takes anyway.

(Side note: Asha/Yara basically still being loyal to D at the end annoys me so much, and made no sense. Jon did more to help save her by giving Theon that pep talk than D@ny did. Maybe it was a leftover from her taking Victarion’s role in the story, but in no reasonable world is anyone going to listen to the Ironborn who brought the Fire threat over in the first place.)

Of course Tyland Lannister isn’t actually Hand for long, given that he dies barely two years later from Winter Fever, feared and hated, alone except for a maester and King Aegon. It might be an indication that Tyrion will face a similar fate, that he’ll die after he’s seemingly won, exactly what he threatened Cersei with:

“A day will come when you think yourself safe and happy, and suddenly your joy will turn to ashes in your mouth, and you'll know the debt is paid."

(ACOK, Tyrion XII)

So that I can stop talking about Tyrion, here’s some facts about Rhaena and Baela that are obviously meant to reference Sansa and Arya, so much so that it feels a little bit like GRRM is winking and going “See what I did there? Huh? Huh? Did you see??”:

- their descriptions: “Rhaena was slender and graceful; Baela was lean and quick; Rhaena loved to dance; Baela lived to ride...” + “Baela was wild and willful”, “more boyish than ladylike”, and kept her hair cropped short as a boy’s

- Rhaena spent most of the Dance in the Vale, where she lived in relative comfort as the ward of Lady Jeyne Arryn. Baela was a dragonrider and so moved between Dragonstone and Driftmark, but was captured on Dragonstone when Aegon II descended upon it

- Rhaena was favoured to be queen after her brother, considered more qualified than her wild sister

- Baela liked to spend time with “unsuitable companions” she would bring to the Red Keep - including a comely juggler, a blacksmith’s apprentice whose muscles she admired (!!!), a legless beggar, a pair of twin girls from a brothel, an entire troupe of mummers once

- After her brother’s regents tried to marry her to a lord 40 years older than her, Baela escaped the Red Keep by climbing out of a window, trading clothes with a washerwoman, then walking right out of the front gate. She ran away to Driftmark and married her supposed cousin (though more likely he was her half-uncle), the legitimised bastard Alyn Velaryon, which might have had me worried about j0nrya if Alyn weren’t best known for being a daring sailor who went on many voyages, including sailing the Sunset Sea, until he was finally lost at sea during Aegon IV’s reign. Alyn’s mother was also called Mouse, for being “small, quick, and always underfoot.”

- another fun fact about Alyn: he’s a bad haggler, and had to agree to a high ransom and many concessions in order to get Prince Viserys returned to Westeros. This automatically disqualifies him as a Jon stand-in, because as we all know, Jon Snow can haggle like the best of fishwives.

- My absolutely favourite detail that has my jonsa heart singing - Rhaena was more dutiful than her sister and would have married a man that the king and council chose, saying that as long as he was “kind and gentle and noble, I know that I shall love him.” She was able to marry her first choice, whom the regents didn’t immediately approve of but that they ultimately accepted  - Ser Corwyn Corbray, the brother of the Lord Protector of the Realm, a second son (!) whose late father had gifted him the Valyrian steel sword Lady Forlorn (!!!)

And as a treat for @istumpysk, some similarities between Rickon and Viserys II!

- the youngest child of their family

- separated from their older brother after they were forced to flee their home, trying to get to safety while their other brothers and mother were at war

- worshipped their oldest (half-)brothers, but were closer to the brother nearest their age

- spends the war stuck on an island, populated by people closely linked to their family’s origins - Skagosi are descended mostly from the First Men, while Viserys was on Lys, where the blood of Old Valyria still runs strong

- sought by/held hostage by a powerful and wealthy family, who will treat them well but whose intentions are dubious

- will be brought back from exile by an upjumped bastard/commoner from a port town who was raised to lordship and became their monarch’s chief admiral

- after they are returned, long after the wars and crises, is happily welcomed as the heir to their older brother’s throne (shhhhh just let me have this, let the baby live)

Thanks for the ask!