#so really. not that you asked but. i really think he shouldn't have said it lmao. bc ppl got Even Nastier after he did

[heartmix]

Private Screening - MV1

Pairing: Max Verstappen x fem!reader

Word Count: 1.4k+

Warning: Max being oblivious, mention of sad reader

Summary: You really wanted to go to the private screening of the F1 movie, but Max doesn't want to

A/N: messy and all over the place

F1 Masterlist / Masterlist

To say you loved movies was an understatement. At any free moment, there was bound to be a movie on. Which is why when they announced they were making a movie about F1 with the same director as Top Gun: Maverick, you were beyond excited. 

The chance to watch them film during the season and also meet the actors made you giddy. Your excitement was more than all the drivers combined, which was hardly any, considering they honestly couldn't have cared less about it. 

Max was one of those who wanted to stay away from the movie. If he had the chance to decline partaking in it, he would have dropped it in a heartbeat. Unfortunately for him, his job forced him, and even more so, you would not stop talking about it every time a promo dropped. 

"Do you think you guys will be invited to the premiere or a private screening?" You asked Max one day while watching yet another trailer drop. 

"If we do, I probably won't go," Max said, not even batting an eye. It was off-handed and you knew you shouldn't have made it a big deal, but deep inside, you were a little hurt. 

The next week, it seemed like everyone was talking about the private screening of the movie for everyone who worked in F1, even down to the engineers. Knowing Max would decline meant you wouldn't be able to go; you were sulking whenever the topic was brought up. 

"What's with the sad face?" Charles asked, seeing your face drop as he and Alexandra were talking about what they were wearing to the premiere next week. 

"You're coming right?" Alex inquired, seemingly knowing what was going on, but she wanted you to be the one to say it. 

"I wish. Max doesn't want to go, and Red Bull is giving him an out." The fact that your eyes didn't meet theirs, instead focusing on the drink in front of you, was a sign that it bothered you a lot. 

"Does he know how excited you are for it? I swear it's all you've been talking about last season." 

"He knows, but I don't think he declined the invite to hurt me. He saw an opportunity to get out of going and took it. I know I shouldn't be sad about it, but I'll get over it." 

"Come with us," Charles mentioned. 

"What?" Your eyes snapped up to his in disbelief, thinking he was playing around. Instead, you found a genuine smile. 

"Oh yes! You can hang out with me! It'll be so fun!" Alex exclaimed with a big smile plastered on her face. 

"Are you guys sure? I don't want to overstep." 

"Trust me. It'll be fine." Charles waved off your concern, not showing a hint of worry. 

Leading up to the premiere, you were super happy. No more the gloomy state you were in. Max noticed it, of course, he noticed mostly everything about you. He was curious about the sudden mood change, but didn't chalk it up to anything. Maybe it was just one of those weeks. If it were anything important, he would be the first one you told. 

He didn't ask about it until the night before the premiere. He was lounging on the bed with the cats while you were in the walk-in closet trying to find something to wear. Not like you were going to be photographed, but there might be a picture or two that would be circulated. This was a big deal to you, and you wanted to look as good as you were going to feel. 

"Schatje, are you almost done? I want to relax and I can't do that without you right here in my arms." He yelled out, borderline whining that you weren't in bed with him. 

"Yeah, just give me a few minutes." 

"The race isn't for a few more days, you don't need to look for an outfit right now. Plus, in case you didn't know, it's in the city we live in. No need to rush." He tried again, but to no avail, you didn't come to bed. 

"Not for the race bubs. It's for tomorrow." 

"Going out with the girls?" He wondered, thinking he had forgotten that you mentioned it to him. 

"Yeah, you can say that. Alex and Charles invited me to the F1 movie screening." Hearing that, he got off the bed and made his way to the closest, confused. Did he hear you right? 

"The what?" 

"Remember the private screening for the drivers and crew. Well, since you weren't going, Charles invited me." You shrugged, not making a big deal. It wasn't a big deal anymore, now that you were going. 

"Why didn't you tell me you wanted to go?" 

"Because you said you weren't going to go before I even had the chance. Even so, you know I've been excited for it, of course, I would want to go." You sighed, looking at him standing in the doorway. It was foolish to think he wouldn't find out, but you didn't know he would make something out of it. 

"I'm sorry, you get excited for practically every movie. I wasn't thinking." He frowned, pulling you into his arms. You knew he felt bad, but there was nothing to hold against him. 

"Don't stress it. I know you don't like media stuff, and you aren't that interested in the movie." 

"Let me take you tomorrow." At this, you chuckled at his sudden urge to wanting to go. He was doing this because he felt bad. You didn't want to force him to go if he really didn't want to, and you know he didn't. 

"Don't be silly. How often do they let you decline something work-related? Plus, I'm going with Charles and Alex." 

"I know you're excited for it, and that's all I need. I'm taking you." The comment came out more as a statement. It was final. He was going to take you no matter how hard you tried to convince him. 

"It's the night before, what are you going to tell the team?" 

"Im Max Verstappen, 4 time world champion. What are they going to do? Decline me?" He had that famous Max Verstappen smugness in his tone. One that would eat everyone up. 

"And your fans say you're humble." You rolled your eyes, and he couldn't help but chuckle. 

Like it was planned all along, you and Max were making your way up the steps of the theater. Cameras flashed from all around you, but you didn't care about any of that. The only thing you cared about was watching the movie. 

"Max! Looks like you made it!" You looked up to the Red Bull social media, Jessica already with a phone fired up in her hand. 

"I did." He said with a slight smile, his way of telling her it was okay to film. 

"Are you excited to see the movie?" She said, holding up the camera to get it all on record.

"My girls' excited about it, so that means I am too." At this comment, you could feel the heat rise to your face, and you tried to look anywhere but the camera. You felt Max's eyes peering down at you, and from he corner of your eyes, you saw Jessica smirking while filming you. Whether it was the bluntness of Max or the numbers it will do on social media, she loved the comment either way. 

"We are glad to have you both." She smiled before ending the video and putting her phone down, thanking you both for the content. 

"Well, well, well, look who decided to show up." Charles' voice came in right from behind you guys with Alex on his arm. 

"Did she tell you about the situation?" Max groaned, not liking Charles' smug look. 

"I knew, I just got the confession out of her." Alex shrugged like it was nothing. 

"Well, all that matters is I'm going to have the chance to see the movie a whole month early. Speaking of you guys should hurry up and do press so we can get to the actual movie." You pushed the two drivers away in the direction of where the rest of them were. 

"You practically begged me to come, now you're getting rid of me?" Max couldn't help but tease. 

With a raised eyebrow, you looked at him in disbelief, "If I remember correctly, you begged me to let you take me." 

"Same thing." 

"Will you just go? I'll meet you inside." Rolling your eyes yet again, this pulled a laugh out of him.  

"Save me a seat?" 

"Least I could do." You smiled before he pulled you in for a kiss. 

[yoiisa]

this is part two of Looks Like the Real Thing!!

Tags: TW for discussions of death and familial arguments where children get involved. AU where Rin is dead. Hurt/comfort, angst with some fluff, sae is trying his best to take accountability, and you are a wonderful wife!

The rest of the week is . . . tense to say the least.

Haru seems to be adverse to Sae like his father's the plague. He interacts with you and Yuki just fine, but the minute Sae enters the room, he falls silent and still. You know it's eating at your husband, even if he does his best to try and hide it.

Finally, the tense atmosphere reaches a breaking point of sorts.

"Sae, please, talk to him," you beg as he gets ready for bed, "He misses you."

"Does he?" Sae asks, turning the sink off and grabbing a sponge to wipe the water away.

"Sae, please. Be anything but sassy right now," you sigh, walking up to his side. You put your hand on his arm gently squeezing his bicep. "He's a little kid, he doesn't know how to deal with his emotions."

Sae stares down at the basin of the sink before turning to you. "Evidently, neither do I."

You shake you head and wrap your arms around his middle, hugging him tight. He's still for a moment, before his hand comes up to rest on the back of your head. Sae turns his face nuzzles into your hair. You turn your head and kiss him deep a slow. It's not enough to heal him and everything he's experienced, but it's enough that he can marginally relax in your arms.

"Hold him," you whisper as you part. "Hug him, rock him, put him to sleep in your arms. It won't fix everything, but it'll be a start at least."

"That's not . . . that's not the problem," Sae groans, stepping back and running a hand through his hair. "I just don't know how to look at him and not see . . . him. Rin."

The name sounds uncomfortable coming from Sae. He says it like his throats a rusty machine that hasn't been oiled in forever, the cogs being forced to run. It takes some energy out of him, you can tell, but it's the most Sae has talked about his late brother in a while, so you consider it a win nonetheless.

"Go," you say more firmly. "He should still be awake reading. Put him to sleep."

Sae sighs and nods, pressing one more kiss to your forehead before disappearing your sight and down the hallways to Haru's bedroom. As he opens the door, he sees Yuki tucking her little brother under the covers of his bed. She startles and Haru's eyes fly open. Both kids freeze under their father's gaze.

"Yuki," Sae's voice is flat as he steps inside, closing the door behind him.

"Mama didn't put Haru to sleep," Yuki explains sheepishly. "I didn't think you would either, so I decided-"

"You're not in trouble," Sae says softly, ruffling his baby girl's hair. He sits on the edge of Haru's bed, and his heart squeezes as the little boy shies away from him. Nevertheless, Sae continues. "I was coming, I just had to do some things first. I- I wanted to talk to you both about something."

Slowly both kids get closer to their father. Haru sits up and scoots closer and Yuki sits across her dad, her hands on his knee.

Sae takes a deep breath before finally speaking. "I'm sorry. I know I probably scared both of you when I got mad, and I'm sorry. I'm extra sorry to you, Haru," Sae's hand rests on his son's head, and he brings Haru closer. His son tucks himself into Sae's side and relaxes a little in his dad's warmth. "I shouldn't have said such horrible things to you. I . . . I can't say how sorry I really am.

"The thing is, recently I've been thinking a lot about my little brother."

"You have a little brother?" Yuki asks, perking up a bit more. Even Haru grows more interested.

Sae's mouth quirks up barely. He nods and explains, "Had. I had a little brother. He's gone now. He died before both of you were born."

Both Itoshi kids are silent before Haru begins to cry. Fat tears roll down his eyes and he shakes his head. Sae shifts Haru so that the little boy is in his lap now. Haru buries his face into Sae's shirt and Yuki just stares at her dad wide eyed.

"How'd he die?" she asks, her voice small and a bit afraid.

Sae takes a deep breath before he whispers, "Sometimes the world is mean to people. As your father, I'll do what I can to protect you from those mean people, but as an older brother . . . I didn't do my part. Sometimes, when the world is too mean, people can die.

"My little brother, Rin, was a victim of a too-mean world, and I was one of the people who was mean. I didn't realize it at the time, but just because I didn't know doesn't mean it wasn't true. Anyways, everything was really bad for Uncle Rin and he," Sae's voice breaks and he pauses, trying to collect himself, "he died."

Both of Sae's kids are silent as Sae talks. "I got married to your mom a year later. We were supposed to get married sooner, but your uncle's death messed me up. I tried to ignore it, but your mother refused to marry me until she said enough time had passed.

"But it wasn't enough time. I don't know if it'll ever be enough time. I never properly dealt with my emotions, the way Mama teaches you two to do. They just kept getting bigger and bigger inside of me, and I just exploded. I'm sorry."

Another tense silence falls over the three of them, before Haru mumbles, "I don't think you're mean daddy."

Yuki nods in agreement. "He's right, you're not!"

Sae squeezes his eyes shut, the sting in them threatening a wave of tears to come flooding out of him. He wraps his arms around both of his children, pulling them tight against him.

"I can be. I can be really mean some times," he whispers, his voice broken and hoarse. "I'm telling you this so you can tell me. Whenever I'm being mean, promise me you'll tell me, okay? Haru, Yuki, please." After both kids give their assent, Sae kisses them both on the head. "I love you both. I'm so sorry Haru, again, for being mean. You know that I don't hate you right? I could never hate you, ever."

Haru nods. "I know Daddy. I know you care about me a lot. Mama and Yuki both say so."

"But do you feel it?"

" . . . sometimes," Haru shrugs.

"Sometimes isn't enough," Sae sighs. He gives his son another squeeze before promising, "I'll make sure you feel it all the time, don't worry. Alright, Haru?"

Haru nods and Yuki smiles at her little brother's behavior. She hugs Haru from behind, sandwiching him with her father.

A couple more minutes pass by before your bedroom door opens. In steps your husband, a kid in each hand. You take Yuki from him and help situate them between the two of you. You hold Sae's hand over their bodies, Haru pressed against Sae and Yuki against you.

Sae stays up for a bit, watching over his family while they sleep, before his eyes finally start to droop. The last thing he hears before he finally gets some proper rest is his baby boy's voice, high pitched and innocent whispering, "Goodnight. I love you, daddy."

If a tear leaks from Sae's eye, well, no ones awake to see.

a/n: currently rewatching aot and i'm on season three and red swan was playing while I was writing this and baby eremika and armin got me in my feels

Taglist!!: @levihanmyotp

[felinisnoctis]

Beads and Bonds

Bringing a canon character who really needs a hug and a nap into husbandry.

Tags: @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan @egrets-not-regrets @nightshade-victorian @legionsofthehungry @kit-williams @sleepyfan-blog

Warnings: Shouldn't be any?

Dante slowly blinked as he opened his eyes again, once again somewhat to his disappointment. No rest still, it seemed, somehow, despite injuries that should have felled him. Then he blinked again as he tried to register where he was. There were green plants all around him and he could hear some sort of avian creatures. More importantly there weren't any signs of the creatures he'd been fighting - a devolved but still deadly form of the tyranids.

Curious, he held still and listened to the sounds around him. The small animal noises indicated a likely lack of nearby combat or large predators. And faintly, he could hear what sounded like a recorded human voice in a language he didn’t recognize. Could still be a trap - but he suspected whatever was using that as a trap would be expecting something else.

Levi was out in his back garden twisting wire into shapes. Right now he was making another set of trees, with “blossoms” of rose quartz or citrine beads, and contemplating what to do with the large garnet heart he’d managed to score at the last craft fair. The little trees always did well. Lots of people regarded them as a sort of minor good luck charm, especially if you didn’t have light for real plants. A little speaker was playing a podcast on historical textile production. Maybe he should learn to spin one day.

Dante slipped through the woods following the words. Eventually he came up close enough to see the house and garden and the baseline working in it. Curious - he’d seen many mortals come and go, but rarely got the chance to watch them create. He watched until the light started to fade and the mortal began to pack up his stuff several hours later.

I still don’t know where I am finally occurred to him as he started to emerge from the edge. The human finally turned and started back as he noticed the large figure emerging from the woods. Dropping the tray of beads he was carrying with a clatter and a word Dante somehow knew was impolite despite the language barrier.

Levi took a minute to process the figure coming out of the woods. Astartes, obviously, in full gold armor and a helmet with a face carved into it. And his entire case of beads was now in the lawn. Well that was a problem for later him.

“Hello? Can I help you?” Levi asked the astartes. He’d seen them before but not usually close enough to get an appreciation for just how big they were.

Ah, mortal, where are we? Dante asked the baseline in front of him. He hadn’t meant to startle him, though he wasn’t sure why he felt so concerned to make up for it. But the baseline shook his head in noncomprehension.

“I’m going to get my phone, ok? It’s…it’s not anything that will hurt you,” Levi said.

Dante didn’t understand what the mortal in front of him had said, but sensed the fear and backed up a little. His weapons were already sheathed. It seemed the man didn’t understand Gothic either. Unfortunate.

Levi looked for a moment to ensure the strange marine wasn’t going to attack and then retrieved his phone from the ground and looked up the number for the nearest Astartes helpline.

“Hello? I have a strange Astartes here, gold armor and a mask - I don’t think he speaks any local language - he just came out of the woods.”

Likely new then. Can you put your phone on speaker? The voice on the other end said.

“Ok,” he pressed the button “You are on speaker now.”

Hello. Can you please provide your name and legion, chapter, or warband affiliation? the voice asked in gothic. Obviously an Astartes, even through the communication device.

Commander Dante of the Blood Angels he responded. Can you tell me where this is?

The voice on the other end paused for a moment. That is a long explanation. We will be sending a team to your location shortly.

Acceptable Dante replied, given the strange circumstances. Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to get some beads out of the grass.

[rayraelleaizawa]

Hi! How are you doing? I was wondering how would Shanks react if someone (stranger or family member) insulted his lover like "I wish you were never born" to them? How would the Red-Haired Pirates react? Can you write a one shot about it?

Hi! sorry it again took me ages to write this tho i love the idea!

I hope this is will be to your liking :) I imagine Shanks being more of the quiet guy when he's really angry. Quiet, but deadly.

Shanks x Reader

Female reader mentioned but only 1 time.

It started as a normal day where the Red Force docked on an island and you were out with Shanks roaming through the streets and looking at vendors and shops.

You two have been dating for quite some time, and the world knew you as red haired Shanks' better half, so most of them treated you extra nicely in fear of the emperor. Still, Shanks was always near you, due to his relationship with you you became a target to his enemies.

You and Shanks were having fun, him being his usual self, joking and trying all kinds of alcohol at the different food and drink stands.

Lime Juice and others of your crew were at one market stand, and Shanks and him had a small drinking competition. You leaned at a house wall and watched them smiling as Shanks laughter got louder and louder over the minutes, as someone next you said your name suddenly.

"Is that really you?", said the voice as you turned around and your mother stood there.

You were suprised. You haven't seen your family in ages, and the good-bye with them wasn't a very good one either. You didn't miss your family, especially not your mother, who only cared about image and what others thought of you.

"I shouldn't be suprised seeing you here, after the announcement came that pirates docked at this island", she said in a condescending voice.

You swallowed, as you weren't prepared to suddenly meet your mother again. You haven't told Shanks about your relationship with your family, but he never asked. He seemed to understand that your family was a chapter in your life which you had closed already.

"At first I was suprised when I heard the rumors that you and red haired Shanks were a couple. I couldn't believe that an emperor of the sea would be interested in *my* child", she laughed.

"But then when there were pictures of you in the newspaper, next to that man, i finally believed it. And in the end it all made sense to me. Why haven't I thought of this before? Of course would my inconsiderate good-for-nothing kid go with a drunk criminal without even thinking what it meant for family. What it meant for me! My child is now a criminal! Can you even imagine what the neighbors thought of your father and me?! We had to move to another island so people would stop looking at us"

You looked at your mother with wide eyes as she started getting louder and louder.

"Don't talk about Shanks that way! He is more than just that! He and his crew are the best thing that ever happened to me", you spoke back, and a heated argument between you two arose.

Your mother yapped about having born a criminal and that it is your duty to repay her for giving birth to you, while you argumented back that all you ever did was living for her, how she wanted you to be.

The fight between you and your mother quickly caught the attention from the people around. Shanks stood up and walked closer, but he didn't intervent for now. He knew you could fight your own battles, eventho he was concerned what exactly was happening. Lime Juice, Hongo and others of your crew also watched closely, ready to jump that woman if she went too far.

"Shanks gave me a family I'm proud of. They accept me for who I am! All you ever did was pressing me in a role of the perfect child with the perfect mother!"

"You ungrateful brat! I did everything to make you look good and you can't even thank me for that? I should've thrown you in a trash can when you were a baby. I wish you were never born!", she yelled at you and slapped you across the face.

You stood there, motionless, as you slowly realized what just happened. Before you could turn your head back from the slap, Shanks moved infront of you. His Haki was flowing around him as the crowed quickly got smaller as the smart ones all went to hide. Your mother tried to act tough, but it didn't even last a few seconds as she crumbled before him, tears streaming down her face in fear.

"You can insult me as much as you want, but never. ever. say a bad thing about my queen."

His aura alone got your mother to apologize endlessly and to beg him to spare her life. Shanks was angry, and an angry Shanks is something you never want to witness. He isn't loud and he isn't throwing hands, he is just, quiet, consuming of all your senses. He's your nightmare.

You stood behind him, holding your cheek as Hongo touched your back. His eyes were checking over your frame for injuries. You could also see Benn standing a few feet away, leaning against a house wall as he watched everything with his brows furrued.

A feeling of protection came over you, but your heart still ached. You never had the best relationship with your mother, but she never said anything so cruel to you. You slowly turned around and started walking towards the Red Force. You knew you could leave the rest to Shanks. He wouldn't kill her, she was still your mother, but he'd make sure she'll never came near you again. His crew followed you, with a respectfull distance to not smother you, but still close enough that everyone could see they were ready to kill for you.

Back at the Red Force you went to your joined room with Shanks. You sat on the bed and stared at the wall. Only after some time did you realize you were crying. Not long after you heard the door opening and then quietly closing again. Shanks walked up to you and slowly sat on the bed behind you. He moved his arms around you and gently brought you to his chest.

He didn't talk at first, just let you settle in his arms and cry. He kissed your forehead from the side.

"You are the world, darling. The only good thing this woman has ever done, was bringing you into this world. I couldn't think of what I'd do without you. I love you, and I want you to know that you're appreciated for who you are."

At first you didn't respond, you just moved and buried your head in his chest as he gently held you.

"Thank you for being my family", you said after some time, and Shanks smiled into your hair, pressing gentle kisses on your hairline.

"Always, my love"

The next day, Lucky made your favourite food. Benn lend you one of his infamous notebooks he wrote about his past adventures in that no one was allowed to read. Monster wanted to play with you, and the others all did little favours for you over the next week. Appreciating you even more than they already did. Telling you "thank you" for small things you did, but with the meaning that they are gratefull you exist. And Shanks did everything to let you know that he was the most gratefull of that.

[the-pallid-king]

He snorts. "Is that a promise?" As if Ichigo's ever failed to deliver in the throw down department. "I guess if you promise, I won't ship you off to Ghana myself."

He shoots Ichigo a mild scowl. "Whatever." And takes a drink, before deciding, "if I'm needy, it's nothing new and it doesn't deter you, so you must like it." Ichigo's clearly thinking about this a little too hard. He props an elbow on the table, chin in hand, while he listens. "I mean, that's kinda hot. I could buy you a collar and leash if you want, but I didn't say anything about house arrest. Who said you couldn't leave? I just said you don't have to do dangerous shit and you could stay here." He really does hate people messing with his stuff though.

At first, he just scoffs a mild, semi amused sound, but it bubbles into a laugh that's a little too grim to be true amusement. "I can't just leave. I'd be hunted down by colleagues, by the police. As soon as I step out of this kinda power, I'm a wanted man." Nevermind the addictions and habits and routines. "I had more freedom when I was on the streets. No one woulda noticed me leavin' back then. Just another junkie that disappeared." It's supposed to be a joke when he adds, "Now I'm a notable junkie." But it feels a little too true.

He's not sure if he thinks it's different for Ichigo or not, honestly. Even when apart and trying to hate each other- hell even when Ichigo really did hate him- they seem to be inexplicably drawn to each other. Placeholder feels accurate. Everyone he's tried out, tried on, has felt like a poor fit. A cheap imitation. A fucking joke. He's so distracted ruminating on it that he catches that half assed proposal a beat late and blinks, then frowns.

Yes for sure would fall out of his mouth. It's about to. He opens his mouth to say it, still frowning, but Ichigo cuts in and tells him not to answer. Except he frowns harder. "I'm sober enough to know what I'm saying, jackass. You know how many people try to get me a little too drunk or high to make it easier for them to get what they want? It doesn't work. You get what you want because I want to give it." Wait. That sounds like he's going back on what he said. "But don't ask me right now because I'm mad at you, because you need to be sure, not me. I already know what I want."

He stays leaned over, close, while he waits to see if the phone connects. He wants the girls to be ok too, they're good kids. He won't forget how accepting of him they were the first time he met them, or the random texts after. Then Yuzu answers and a lop sided smirk tugs at one corner of his mouth and he leans back in his chair again, taking a drink from his glass. His attention lifts away from the phone and to Ichigo when Ichigo face plants into his arm like he's hiding.

Fine, his ass. He scoffs into his glass, but doesn't interrupt the conversation. "Glad to hear you're both safe." He says when Karin says hi to him awkwardly. It probably is awkward. They probably never expected to hear from him again. Maybe he should be surprised Yuzu answered at all when his number popped up. But maybe not. Yuzu is kind of a softy like that. She's sweet. He watches Ichigo through the brief conversation, and watches the hurt in him when Yuzu hangs up, the knowing that he just hurt his sisters. "Give it a few days, maybe we can go out there to see them so they don't come here." Because he has no doubt that the girls would at least try to figure out where their brother is.

He shrugs while he finishes off his glass. "Up to you." He's not even entirely sure what Ichigo means to tell them. About them? About his capture? Who knows. "I don't have any experience with siblings, you shouldn't take my advice. I'd tell 'em though."

That sounds crazy, but he wouldn't put it past traffickers to pull something like that off. Half jokingly, "Woulda been a good career for you." Not that there would be any pay involved, so not much of a job.

His brows go up a little tiny bit and he looks over. Obviously he knows Ichigo's not serious. "I mean. Yeah. That sounds like a dream, why're you saying it like it's not a perfect life? What more could you want?" He snorts a dryly amused sound when Ichigo flips the script. "I wish." He doesn't realize how serious he is until he says it. He does wish he could do that, the lounging in Ichigo's bed part, of course, but mostly the quitting part. There's a lot he'd quit if it were that simple. He takes a deep drink from his glass, then snags Ichigo's to refill it.

"Yeesh. Way to make it depressing." But Ichigo's right. "If I have to bury you any time soon-" he doesn't finish, just shakes his head, looking vaguely exasperated, and shoots the rest of his drink like a shot. He pours Ichigo's, slides it to him, then pours himself another. That softer statement makes something sharp slide between his ribs to prick at his lungs. That's what all the partying and drugs and sleeping around is really about; he hates being alone. He even hates his own company more and more. He's not good for himself. "Not just anyone will do." He's tried. He's been trying. Before Ichigo, and now after Ichigo, and no matter who and how many he surrounds himself with, he's still alone.

Ichigo hesitates to accept Shiro's offer and for a second he wonders why. He wonders what must be going through Ichigo's head. Does he think it's some sort of trick? Or is he afraid of getting answers about his sisters? But he takes the phone. Shiro huffs a small laugh. "It's the one I have on me this late." Or early. Or whatever time it is.

He nods while Ichigo talks, recognizing the nervousness there. He wants to offer reassurance, but he's never been one for false promises, and Ichigo got himself mixed up with some really nasty people. His attention shifts down to where Ichigo's fingers tremble, then raise again, seeing the fear in Ichigo's eyes. He reaches over, hesitates a second, then brushes his fingers across Ichigo's as he hits the call button, then the speaker phone button. They can do this together.

[nicolejones412]

Out of Sync Part 3

Bucky Barnes x fem!reader

Summary: You've found yourself with the 107th fighting Hydra, where you meet a handsome Sergeant. But something just isn't right.

A/N: Enjoy the fluff! That's really all I have to say about this chapter.

Read Part 1 here. Read Part 2 here.

FIC:

Two of the Howling Commandos cleared the radius before the Hydra soldiers caught on, and the explosives started.

You and Bucky waited as he tracked each member retreating, clearing the bath as best he could. You turned around, watching his back in case they sent another soldier up to finish the job.

As Steve was exiting the radius, you clocked 2 Hydra soldiers making their way up to you.

You fired at one and it went wide. Bucky turned.

Both of you took cover as you fired. Each of you took out one of the soldiers.

Bucky grabbed your hand and pulled you along as you ran down the hill toward the rendezvous point.

"It's us!" Bucky called as you approached.

You put your hands on your knees, catching your breath.

"Are you alright?" Bucky asked, looking you over.

"Yeah I'm...I'm ok..." He held your face in his hands, frantically checking over you. He found a scratch on your face from a branch as you ran and -

"You got shot?" You looked down at your arm, and could see that it did in fact look like a bullet had a little more than grazed your left bicep.

"I guess, if this counts. It's barely a graze." Now that he mentioned it though, it did sting.

He shook his head and silently started cleaning and bandaging your arm.

"You shouldn't have come out here by yourself. It was reckless, and you couldn't died," Steve lectured.

"Oh well that's so convincing coming from you, Captain." Steve rolled his eyes.

"That's not-"

"At least a couple of us would've been dead without her quick thinking," Dugan spoke up. Steve rubbed his brow.

"Then I guess we owe you a thank you."

You managed a quick nod. You hated to admit it, but Bucky's silence was worrying you. And the moment from earlier kept flashing through your head.

"We really should get going," Steve said. "It'll be tight, but at this point I doubt you have enough fuel in that bike to get back to base camp." You shook your head.

"Alright then. Let's move out."

-

The ride back was bound to be a long one. Not least of all because Bucky was ignoring you. The other guys were practically singing your praises at this point.

"Tell me again how you snuck up on Barnes and a Hydra hitman and took the latter out."

You chuckled. "It was nothing really. Light on my feet I guess."

"And observant. We should bring you around more often," Dugan laughed as he offered you a drink.

You blinked and suddenly the truck had stopped and you were back at camp.

"Is she alright?" you hear Peggy.

"She's fine. Got a graze and she's pretty exhausted." Steve's voice trailed off as someone came into your field of view.

"Alright sweetheart." Bucky? He helped you up and out of the truck and walked you to your tent. He turned to leave once you were at the entrance.

"Wait." He stopped, turning his head.

"Are you angry with me?"

He looked at the ground. "Go to bed Charlie."

"I'm not tired. I wanna talk because you seem very angry and I just-" He sighed and closed the distance between you.

"Am I angry? Am I mad that once again someone I care about recklessly ran into danger without a second thought and could've gotten themself killed? At least Steve had the serum for crying out loud!"

His volume seemed to raise with every word.

"To think that you could've...I just....You know what? Forget it."

He took a step back again. But your next words stopped him in his tracks.

"I saw you die."

He paused, almost like he thought he misheard you. "Excuse me."

"I saw you die."

He scoffed and grabbed your arm to pull you into the tent. "So what you had a dream or a vision and that's why you ran headfirst into danger?! What were you-"

"Not in a dream or a vision. I went after you because I'm good at my job and know how to spot a trap. And if you all weren't so eager to jump at every opportunity maybe I would've spotted it before you left."

"Then what do you mean-"

"There! On that hill. I had almost made it to you and then that Hydra soldier fired, your head had a hole through it and all hell broke loose. Then suddenly it was quiet again, I was a few steps back, and you were-" Tears were filling your eyes now.

"I don't understand."

"And neither do I! But don't try to make me feel guilty about what might've happened to me when I literally watched what would've happened to you if I didn't show up. Don't lecture me about losing someone you love!"

Bucky stood still and quiet. You took a deep breath.

"So, don't expect me to apologize for saving your life. Because that day is never coming." You looked up at him, waiting for his reaction.

His eyes were softer than you expected. And he held out his arm to pull you into a hug.

You cried against his chest, letting the emotions of the day wash over you finally, as he placed his hand on the back of your head.

-

Apparently it had already been understood among the Howling Commandos that it was only a matter of time before you officially became a couple. Some of them thought you might have been secretly dating already and just waiting for the right moment. You were almost sure you watched money exchange hands the first time you walked up to the table they were all sat at in a bar holding hands.

You sat next to Steve as Bucky went to grab you both a drink, leaning over to whisper to him, "So did you win?"

"I don't gamble," Steve assured you, just as Dugan placed money in his hand. You gave him a pointed look.

"Oh this wasn't gambling. I knew I was right, so there was no way to lose. Besides, it's their own fault for refusing to let me stay out of it."

You chuckled and thanked Bucky as he brought your drink. They poked fun at neither of you being able to stop smiling like idiots, but you couldn't help it. You were blissfully happy.

Weren't you?

As the days and weeks passed, you still couldn't shake the mounting feeling that something was wrong. You triple checked every mission to make sure it wasn't a trap, and every mission they all came back.

You tried to tell yourself it was just that you were at war, and there was always risk for all of you.

It was like a weight lifted off your shoulders whenever Bucky was around. As time went on, you realized that it wasn't going away completely, just getting quieter, or that your joy was louder.

4 months after you started officially going steady, you had been celebrating with the boys after another successful mission. It started to snow, and Bucky grabbed your hand and took you outside to dance.

You laughed at the absurdity, but it was at least nice and quiet.

"It's like it's just the two of us," Bucky said.

"That's because it's freezing out here and everyone else is sensible and indoors." You both started laughing.

"Maybe you're right." He looked down at you, and started humming a tune as you danced, his eyes not leaving your face for a moment.

"What are you staring at?"

"What? I'm not allowed to look at my best girl?"

You blushed. "I mean, I guess you are."

You danced for another minute before you shivered. He chuckled.

"Maybe we should go back inside," you said.

"We will in a second, but I've got something I wanted to say first."

You looked at him expectantly. He took a deep breath as he looked off to the side before turning back to you. Your anxiety mounted. What was wrong?

"Will you marry me?"

You stood in shock, heart pounding. You weren't sure what you were expecting him to say, but it certainly wasn't that.

He studied your face before pulling back from you a little. "I know, it's a little fast, and it's ok if you're not ready for that, but to be honest I've been in love with you since-"

You cut him off with a kiss. He held you close as he relaxed and kissed you back. You pulled back just enough to see his eyes.

"Yes. Of course yes."

You swore his face would crack if he smiled any wider as he leaned in to kiss you again. The world fell away, until the sound of cheering from the doorway of the bar intruded the moment. You both turned to see the team grinning and applauding.

You both laughed nervously before Bucky reached into his pocket and pulled out a simple band with an emerald in it and reached for your hand.

"Not sure what your tastes are regarding jewelry, but this was my mother's."

"It's beautiful." You admired it for a moment before Bucky took your arm.

"Come on. Let's get you warmed up."

-

A/N: Hope you enjoyed this chapter! Because everything is about to change...

[moraesong]

hmm...again

park jisung x female reader (ft. na jaemin)

Well, you still have feelings for Jisung...so what happens when Jaemin asks to join the two of you?

Genre: smut (with fluff and light angst)

Content: this is set in a non-idol alternative universe. once again, reader is an escort who is pining for jisung. unprotected sex, fingering, oral sex (f. and m. receiving), spitroasting, light hair pulling, creampie, riding, mention of breeding kink. fluffy/funny in some parts

Word count: 2,550 words

Author's note: This is the last thing I intend to write for the hmm series (part 1 and part 2 here). I have indicated that Jaemin is "featuring" because the reader is still focused on Jisung throughout this story, and while she likes Jaemin, she doesn't have romantic feelings for him. Just wanted to be clear about that!

It had been Jaemin's idea. Jisung didn't really know how to mention the topic to you at first, though. When he brought it up with you, he told you that he already told Jaemin that he thought you might not want to do it. 

“I don't want you to feel pressured,” Jisung had said, a serious look on his face. “But I did want to let you know that he was interested.” 

Even though Jisung was the only one for you, or perhaps precisely because of that, you had ended up agreeing. You almost feel guilty for having the thought, but part of you thinks that maybe spending time with someone else will help you take your mind off Jisung. You've met Jaemin before, and he's a fun and friendly personality, albeit with the sometimes unnerving ability to read you perfectly and a dazzling amount of beauty. You have no intention to set your heart on Jaemin—wouldn’t that just be doing the same thing all over again?—but a brief respite from thoughts about Jisung would be appreciated. 

Evidently, you were wrong to think that anything or anyone could take you away from Jisung, because even now that Jaemin's here looking at you, you're staring at Jisung. You can't help it. A thin silver necklace dangles from his neck today, and it suits him so well. And he's so so fine too…

Jaemin, who’s sitting next to you on his bed, nudges you, and now you try and pretend like you weren't staring, but he knows. He always knows. “Jisung, I think Y/N has something to say to you.” 

Jisung turns to you, a questioning look on his face. So you blurt out, “Umm, I really like your necklace today.” 

Is it too much? Do you compliment him too much? You could say more, but you don't…you’d rather be subtle. And again. You shouldn't think too hard about him…

Jisung looks down at himself and what he's wearing. He seems to understand the meaning behind your words. “Thanks,” he says.

“Well, I'm sure you two know the old saying about how if you take a picture, it'll last longer. Do you want me to take a picture of you together?” Jaemin offers. 

Oh! Huh. You weren't expecting this at all. You look at Jisung, and he shrugs. So as you’re trying to hide your inner excitement, you tell Jaemin, “Sure!”

Jaemin gets up so Jisung can take his place next to you, and you move closer to Jisung until your thighs are touching. You always get lost in the sensation of being close to him. You hesitantly sneak your hand down to Jisung’s, and he holds your hand back. You look up at Jaemin's camera and smile genuinely, happy that he'd inadvertently given you two this moment together. Then you lean your head on Jisung’s shoulder, still smiling widely.

Jaemin snaps another photo. “Aww. So cute, you two. You kind of look like a couple.”

At those words, you freeze up and start to pull your hand away from Jisung. Maybe you've been too forward with your affection for him, when really you're only here to have a good time with him in the present. The thought of that hurts your chest.

But to your surprise, Jisung holds onto your hand so you can't take it away from his. When you look at him, he sweetly assures you, “I don't mind, Y/N.”

If he keeps on being too sweet like this today, you're never going to be able to let him go.

When you look at Jaemin again, he's already taken his shirt off. Seeing his muscled arms and chest, you naturally find yourself saying to him, “Oh, you must work out a lot.”

Jaemin gives you a big grin. “Flirting with me in front of Jisung already?”

“I—I wasn't!” It makes your face burn. Why is he acting like you and Jisung are an item? You secretly wish that too, but you wouldn't dare allude to such things out loud.

“I know, Y/N. You're sweet. But, you wanna feel? It'll be our little moment.” Jaemin winks at you. You think you see Jisung roll his eyes a little bit, but he doesn't say anything.

So you approach Jaemin and carefully put your hands on him, admiring his strength and toned body. He's warm, and his muscles flex under your touch.

“You've got me excited, angel,” Jaemin says, and that really makes you blush. “You wanna touch Jisung too?”

You turn to Jisung now. Although Jaemin has a good body, it's Jisung who's perfect to you. But you don't feel the need to touch him—you’d feel a bit silly doing it, and you know him already. So you just lean in and kiss his lips, your eyes fluttering closed. (You think you hear Jaemin say “aww” again in the background, but this time you pay it no mind.)  

You'd worn a short slip dress tonight, thinking that it would be the most convenient. So now, Jisung moves his hands towards the hem of your slip. He makes eye contact with you and you nod. Then he pushes the fabric up over your hips.

You didn't wear anything underneath either, once again thinking that it would be easier. Jisung rests his palm high up on your inner thigh, and you close your legs around him, needing the friction. But as you relax more, you part them again for him, enough so he can touch your pussy.

He stretches you open gently, and you can't help but leak around his fingers, your body betraying your eagerness for him. Then he curls his fingers inside you and you tense up with the pleasure.

He gives you one long lick along the seam of your pussy, collecting your juices on his tongue. (And it's okay, since you'll make more for Jaemin.) He says he had to, since you always taste so good. Then Jisung leans down one last time to kiss your clit.

Jisung holds your legs open for Jaemin to eat you out, tongue everywhere and loud slurping filling the air. It makes your thighs tremble, but Jisung just grips you a bit tighter, holding you steady.

Jaemin is so good with his mouth that he has you squirting on his face, helpless to him. He grins at you again, lascivious this time. “There we go. Jisung didn't tell me that you could squirt.”

You want to hide your face from his gaze. But Jisung also looks as embarrassed as you feel on the inside, and he admonishes Jaemin for saying that. “Don't embarrass her like that!” 

Jaemin just laughs in response, a genuine laugh, and in that moment you find yourself thinking that he really does have a beautiful smile. But you don't get to say that to him, since he's reassuring you now that you don't need to feel embarrassed. Maybe you can tell him later at the end.

You get on your hands and knees. Jisung’s hands go to your cheeks and he spreads them apart, which opens your pussy below, giving him a good look. Your pussy’s always open for Jisung if he wants it. He can take all he wants from you, because you love when he sluts you out. You can feel Jaemin’s eyes on you, too, making you clench around nothing.

Jisung claims your pussy, big hands holding your hips as you're speared open on his cock, hot and dripping around him. You almost want to run away from how full he makes you feel, but instead you wiggle back on him to get him even deeper inside, his cock touching your deepest parts. You hear Jaemin groan at the sight.

Jisung doesn't move, though. Instead, Jaemin moves in front of you and brings his cock to your lips. You open your mouth for him, and Jisung’s hand comes to your head to guide you onto Jaemin. You obediently follow the pace that Jisung sets as he uses his other hand to hold your wrists behind your back. You like that you're completely under his power, because it makes you feel like you're his. (And you are, but that doesn't mean he's yours.)

You suck on Jaemin dutifully. Jisung's only holding your waist now, skillful hips thrusting into you. It pushes your mouth a bit further down on Jaemin, and he groans and makes a comment about how good you are.

Jaemin knows your effort and rewards you by running a soft hand through your hair. You make a sound around him and try to look up at him the best you can in this position. He smooths your hair and tucks a lock behind your ear, and the affection almost makes you shiver. 

“You like his cock, baby?” Baby. That was the first time Jisung had ever called you that, and in your heart you reply to him, please call me that again. Baby. But you're busy on Jaemin, so you can't answer. You just moan around him, because yes you do, and continue giving Jaemin everything you have.

“Better than mine?” Jisung pulls at your hair to get you off Jaemin.

With Jisung's hand still fisting your hair, you say, “No! No, yours is the best!” You squeeze tighter around him, easy for him as always.

He smirks at that and lets you go. 

When Jisung comes, he makes no effort to pull out of you. Instead, he presses your hips to his so he can be as deep inside you as he possibly can, filling up your deepest parts as he comes.

“My girl,” he murmurs, and the possessiveness only makes you more pliant for him.

But now Jaemin’s asking if you can ride him too. You mindlessly nod at that, and Jaemin notices that, assuring you to take the time to catch your breath if you need it. You're grateful for his attentiveness. Sitting beside you, Jisung's hand goes back to your hair, but now he's very soft with it, running his fingers through it in a soothing way.

“Sorry if I hurt you earlier,” he says quietly, giving you a sheepish look. “I kind of got carried away.”

You shake your head. “It's okay. You didn't hurt me.” To reassure him extra, you give Jisung a quick smooch on the cheek, and you see his cheeks get rosy at that. Getting shy from a cheek kiss after doing all that to you…he's so endearing. 

You think you're ready now for Jaemin. But…your pussy is still stuffed with Jisung's cum, so you look at Jaemin. He tells you it's fine, and beckons you to come closer. 

He puts his lips to your ear and whispers, “You should tell him how you feel.”

You lean back from him in shock, and you steal a glance at Jisung, who's been watching you intently. His face looks perfectly neutral, though, so you don't think too much of it. Should you really tell him how you feel? 

Ooh. Jaemin stretches you out. He's big too. Jisung's cum trickles out of you and onto Jaemin's body as you fully sit down on his cock. Your pussy is still tight for him even after Jisung.

“You feel so good, pretty doll,” Jaemin praises you. “I see why you like her so much, Jisung.”

Your heart perks up at those words, but you wonder if maybe now that you've started a more physical relationship with Jisung, he likes you primarily for that reason. But as long as he keeps wanting you, you'll keep giving yourself to him however you can.

As you're bouncing on Jaemin's cock, Jisung comes over to you to capture your mouth and kiss you deeply, tongue all up with yours. You're happy to be his; you're happy that he's making you his. Then, the two of you part and that leaves you free to cry out. “Jaemin!” He's hitting that best part in you perfectly, and your pussy is throbbing like crazy. The pleasure runs through your body.

Jaemin says he likes watching pretty girls like you fall apart on his cock. His hands go to your soft breasts, pushing them together and pinching at your nipples after. Then he smooths his hands down until they settle around your waist.

“Come on, keep going, doll,” he encourages you. So you do, your breasts bouncing in front of Jaemin's face.

Jaemin comes in you too, his cum mixing with Jisung's. You've now been claimed by both of them. You idly think about what it would be like if one of them knocked you up, how you wouldn't know whose baby you were bearing. But you clench at the thought of that, love the fantasy of giving them a baby. Being slutty enough to do something that would lead to this.

“What are you thinking about?” Jaemin asks you. 

“Oh. Umm, nothing really…” You try to avoid his gaze.

“I know it can't be nothing,” Jaemin jokes with you lightheartedly. “I'm sure you have a lot of thoughts in your head.”

Oh, if only Jisung knew. “I do…”

But you don't say anything more. Instead, you get off Jaemin, and the cum drips down your inner thighs. Jisung comes over to you again with a question in his eyes this time, and you look at him, confused. He reaches out and lightly presses down on you, watching as more creamy liquid leaks out from your pussy.

So, that's all. When you don your little slip dress again, Jaemin exclaims, “You know, pink is my favorite color!”

Really? You look at Jisung for confirmation, and he sighs. “Sorry about him. Don’t mind him. But yes, it's his favorite color.”

“Hey!” Jaemin raises his arm towards Jisung, pretending like he's going to hit him, and Jisung jumps back. Their silly camaraderie makes you laugh, and you feel grateful for Jaemin's presence today and how he put you at ease. 

“I don't mind! Actually, pink is also my favorite color. That's why I wore this dress.”

“Yeah, it's pretty!” Jaemin beams at you, and you smile back. He's so nice. Jisung’s friends are so nice, you think. 

Jisung asks you if you're ready to go now, but you tell him to wait. He nods and leaves the room to wait for you outside, leaving you alone with Jaemin.

“Thank you so much for today. Especially the pictures,” you say. You're not sure why, but somehow you're more nervous right now than you were at the beginning. It's probably because you just alluded to the Jisung feelings.

Jaemin hums, sorting through the items on top of his drawer. He turns around and presents you with all the Polaroid photos he took of you and Jisung. “It's no problem at all. You deserve something nice. And I meant it when I said you should tell him.” 

You graciously accept the photos from him and look at them before responding. “Yeah, you're right. I'm just not sure how or when.” 

“You'll figure it out. I believe in you,” Jaemin says. He glances at the clock and adds, “But you don't want to keep Jisung waiting now, do you? I know he's waiting for you outside.”

Yeah, he is. You thank Jaemin one last time and go, heart a little lighter.

Notes: I started writing this on April 10th, and I had written a lot of the middle part in April, but for a while, I had a lot of trouble actually finishing this. I knew I had to either finish this or give up on it, and luckily inspiration struck tonight, so I ended up rewriting, editing, and finishing this whole thing tonight. I think one reason I had trouble with this is because I sort of overcomplicated things in my head. I had also rewritten the introductory conversation multiple times, and I initially wanted it to be more elaborate and have more context, but that itself was giving me trouble. So I finally realized that I wasn't going to finish this unless I intentionally wrote this story to have minimal context, which is what I did tonight. I really wanted to finish this so I could get it out of my head, and so I could cleanly move on to thinking about other stories. I have a few ideas for stories with more plot! Thank you as always for reading! I hope I did well enough.

Credits

Dividers: by chachachannah

—hmm...again, fanfiction written by moraesong on tumblr, posted 2025

[catzz089]

Can we have our weekly ficlet? (plsssssss, this exam week is killing me, it would be nice to have something to cheer me up)

Come child. Come and destress.

Charles rolled up at 6:50 on the dot, gliding into the parking space with the ease of a man who doesn’t need to worry about parking tickets when he is about half a car outside the lines. He knocked on Max’s door with quick firm knocks.

He rearranged the massive bouquet of tulips. Red Dutch Apeldoom and blue, mixed together, bracketed by an array of pure white tulips.

Red for love, white for purity and holiness and blue because it was Max’s favourite colour and it’s symbolic for trust. But mostly because it was Max’s favourite colour.

The fact that he happened to pick out a slightly deeper shade of red that looks awfully similar to a certain other shade of red was just an absolute total coincidence, that Charles had not at all planned for.

He was confident Max would like it, hopeful that Max would light up like the tulips to be a brilliant shade of red that Charles could hook under his arm and keep by his side the entire night and show that look, even my Max is Ferrari.

Even if Max didn’t know it yet.

The door swung open and fuck.

Charles had thought he was gorgeous before but something about this brought a whole new light to it all.

His legs looked like they went on forever, and Charles just knew the second he sat down the fabric would be fighting against his prominent thighs. His white button up had the top two buttons undone, revealing a patch of gorgeous pale skin, perfectly unblemished. His hair was artfully tousled, thrown about in all the right places and his face carried a light flush all over.

And then there was the suit.

The blazer.

Charles’ own, he hadn’t forgotten Max had it, he remembered that day very well. His surprise came from the fact that he’d thought Max had forgotten it. Max ‘I only wear the comfiest things possible and look adorable as I do it’ Verstappen.

Yet here he was, wearing his blazer. The Ferrari emblem was embroidered into the fabric, tucked under the collar and away from prying eyes. Enough to claim, but not enough for other people to know. 

Max stood awkwardly, staring stiffly at the bunch of flowers in Charles’ arms, an unmistakable red coating every inch of exposed skin.

“Bonjour, mon cœur. How are you?” He crooned.

“Good! Uhm- Very good!” Max stuttered.

“For you, mon amour,” He put on his most charming smile as he held out the bouquet. Max looked overwhelmed anyway.

“Oh! Thank you, Charlie. You really didn’t need to, they look so wonderful.” His face was pinche in awe as he stared at the bundle, gently taking them into his own hands.

“Let me just find a vase for these, I’ll be super quick, I promise.”

Charles chuckled, “Take as much time as you need, chéri. They will wait.”

Max pulled out a clear red vase to put them into, Charles was surprised he even had a vase. He didn’t even have a mug. Yet he owned a vase.

Against his will, an endeared smile crept up his face.

“Okay! Done! Oh, and I also wanted to ask what tie you think I should wear. I can’t decide.” Max said, settling the vase down and spinning around to face him with a hopeful smile on his face.

“Oh? Well, which ones do you have?”  He wasn’t sure why he was asking at all. He obviously wanted Max to go without one, and keep the shirt unbuttoned.

“Okay well I have the regular red one- you know, for the work special occasions- which I thought, maybe I shouldn't wear my work tie, but it’s also plain, so it’s not like anyone would know.” Which was a massive lie, Charles had given him that himself, the entire inside was coated with horses, not that Max would ever check the inside, but they were there. “But then the only other tie I have is orange and like, a bright orange, almost papaya actually. And I-”

“Don’t wear one,” Charles interrupted. He’d heard enough. He sure as hell wasn’t going to let his Ferrari employee wear McLaren colours.

McLaren would never be able to lay claim on Max.

He was Charles’ and that meant he was Ferrari and anyone who dared to look at him would burn.

“Won’t they kick me out? I’m pretty sure it’s part of most places' dress code.” He had his head tilted to the side all confused and pretty, but that was okay. Charles was there, and he would always be. Max never had to worry about using his precious little head.

“Of course they won’t, you look gorgeous without the tie; they’ll be begging for you to come in.” He wrapped a sturdy arm around Max’s waist, going underneath the blazer and feeling the delightful shiver next to him.

He pressed Max closer as they left.

[jungkoode]

WE GREW UP SOMEWHERE ALONG THE WAY | 01

˗ˏˋott and capy ˎˊ˗

“Ott and Capy. Stupid nicknames, really. Which is fitting when you’re like 8? 10? and your best friend is being annoying. Now at almost 30 it’s… something alarming to be called in the middle of Tennoji Station. But then again, this is your childhood friend Hoseok who you’re talking about.”

next | index

⋆｡°✩ chapter details ✩°｡⋆

word count: 4,7k

content: moving out/in, new beginnings, discovering Osaka, wondering the merits of texting your childhood best friend, 5 years no contact, reconnecting, work discoveries, dinner plans, hobi being loud on purpose, hobi being a literal golden retriever, nicknames (are we surprised this is a kiki fic), yn being black grumpy cat coded andweird feelings.

Kiki Nation’s discussion thread for this chapter.

✧ author's note ✧

HEEEEYYYYYY did ya losers miss some good ol’ Kiki-Hobi energy???? WELL GUESS WHAT. I’m back. I’m here. I’m mentally unwell. And I’m writing Hoseok as a hentai mangaka. You’re welcome.

So here's the thing: after Off Labels I thought I was done. Thought I’d said all I had to say about Hoseok and trauma and weird intimacy and shame and giggles through grief. And then this man—this stupid man with his stupid loud laugh and his stupid kind eyes—crept back into my mind and refused to leave. He's my wrecker. Shocking, I know. Please hold your gasps.

This fic came to me because I couldn’t stop listening to Kyary Pamyu Pamyu and having weird visual flashes of neon Osaka streets, vending machines, childhood nicknames, and that very specific flavor of yearning that comes from bumping into someone you used to know so well, and realizing you don’t know them at all anymore. I sat with that for a while. It festered. And then, like all things in my life, it became fiction.

This chapter… hurts. Like?? Soft and fluffy?? Kind of?? But also??? Pain?? It’s not loud pain. It’s not sobbing-in-the-rain pain. It’s quiet ache pain. It’s “do they still like lemon cake” pain. It's the psychological spiral that hits when you realize someone who once knew you like breathing is now asking you for your address like a stranger. It’s sitting across from your childhood best friend and realizing neither of you remember how to touch. How to say goodbye. How to exist in each other’s presence without flinching.

And yeah okay I know exactly why it hurts. (I’m a psychology girlie. I analyze my own trauma for breakfast and then write porn in the afternoon. Duality.)

It’s the displacement. The unspoken. The existential nausea of identity—like who are you, if the person who knew you best doesn’t recognize you anymore? It’s the phantom limb syndrome of old intimacy. You keep reaching for a version of them that doesn’t exist anymore. And maybe they’re doing the same with you.

This fic will be slow-paced. Of course it’s slow. This is a Kiki fic. We write longing so extended it loops back into erotic torment and then loops again into grief.

Anyway, I’m really proud of this chapter. Like, genuinely. I think the tone is doing something very specific that I don’t always allow myself to linger in: melancholy. It’s bittersweet but not tragic. Nostalgic but not sappy. It’s two people walking a tightrope over their shared past, too scared to look down.

I’ll stop rambling now (no I won’t). Read the chapter. Text your childhood best friend. Or don’t. Maybe just sit in it. Let the ache settle.

Thanks for reading. ~ Kiki (aka Capy in spirit, Ott in chaos)

P.S. If you're not already invested in Hoseok as a feral golden-retriever-turned-hentai-artist, I will make you. Give me three chapters. Bet.

⋆｡°✩ read on ✩°｡⋆

wattpad

ao3

Your phone's been staring at you for three hours, and you're pretty sure it's winning.

You've spent three days arranging your meager possessions in this shoebox apartment, and still, it doesn't feel like yours. 

The walls are too thin, the floor creaks in places it shouldn't, and there's a mysterious stain on the ceiling that looks vaguely like Australia—which feels like some cosmic joke you're not in the mood to appreciate.

And it’s Sunday evening in Osaka. 

Tomorrow you start your new job at that international marketing firm—the one that hired you specifically because you can string English words together without having an aneurysm. 

Impressive skill, that.

Your phone sits on the fold-out table, screen cracked in one corner from when you dropped it while unpacking. 

The pixelated display of your Nokia mocks you with its emptiness. 

No messages. No missed calls. No one even knows you're here except your family, your new boss and the unimpressed landlady who barely looked at you when handing over the keys.

And right now you're sprawled on your sad excuse for a futon, scrolling through Mixi for the fourth time today like some digital masochist. 

There it is again—Jung Hoseok's profile, mocking you with that ridiculous peace-sign photo and his stupid orange beanie.

Osaka Life: Year Five! with a picture of manga sketches and what looks like convenience store ramen. 

Classic.

You scroll through the contacts, thumb hovering over his profile. 𝐉𝐮𝐧𝐠 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐨𝐤. Saved without a nickname or emoji because you're allegedly an adult now.

"This is stupid," you mutter to the empty room, tossing the phone onto your futon. It bounces pathetically, like everything else in this apartment—cheap and temporary.

Five years. Five years since you've properly seen him. 

Yeah, there was that awkward coffee when you both happened to be home visiting parents three years ago, but that barely counted. Twenty minutes of surface-level catching up before he had to run for his train. 

You both promised to keep in touch better. 

Neither of you did.

You wouldn't even know Ott was still in Osaka if you hadn't stumbled across his profile on Mixi last month while researching your move. 

The nickname forms in your head unbidden. 

Ott. 

Right. The stupid nickname. Ott. Otter.

Because he never stopped moving as a kid, always splashing around, getting into everything, making noise. 

Like an otter. 

You called him that once to piss him off, but he'd just grinned that stupid grin and started calling you Capybara—Capy for short—because you were ‘always sitting there, judging everyone, looking grumpy but actually kind of cute.’

You were not cute. You were eleven and had braces and hated everything.

Still kind of do. 

Your apartment's single window faces another building, barely six feet of space between them. Someone's laundry hangs on the opposite balcony—a man's shirts and pants, all in dark colors. You wonder idly if your neighbor is as lost in this city as you are.

You moved to Osaka because it made sense. The job offer came at the perfect time—just when your old position in Sydney had become so monotonous you were considering setting your desk on fire just to feel something. 

They needed someone who could communicate with their English-speaking clients. 

You needed a change. 

Simple math.

The fact that you knew Hoseok lived here was irrelevant. Completely irrelevant. It's not like you were expecting to run into him in a city of 2.6 million people. And it's definitely not like you were going to reach out to him.

Except now you're sitting here, stomach growling because you still haven't figured out where to buy groceries, staring at your phone like it might bite you.

You hear everything happening outside.

Distant trains, muffled voices speaking rapid Japanese you can barely follow, someone's TV playing what sounds like a game show. 

You've learned exactly seventeen useful phrases in Japanese, and fifteen of them are food-related.

Your laptop sits on the floor, ancient and struggling to connect to the building's spotty internet. The email from your new boss stares back at you: 

"Looking forward to seeing you tomorrow at 8:30. Please be punctual. Orientation materials attached."

God, you're not ready. You're not ready for any of this.

You grab your phone again, a decision forming against your better judgment. 

It's just practical, really. He knows the city. He could tell you where to get decent food that won't bankrupt you. Maybe recommend a better internet provider. That's it.

Your thumb hovers over the message button. You type, delete, type again. Finally:

𝐘𝐨𝐮: 𝙷𝚎𝚢. 𝙸𝚝’𝚜 𝚈/𝙽. 𝙵𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚂𝚢𝚍𝚗𝚎𝚢. 𝙸 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚖𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝙾𝚜𝚊𝚔𝚊 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚔. 𝚂𝚊𝚠 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚘𝚗 𝙼𝚒𝚡𝚒. 𝙰𝚗𝚢 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚊 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚘𝚗 𝚌𝚊𝚗 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚍𝚎𝚌𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚏𝚘𝚘𝚍 𝚊𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚒𝚜𝚗 𝚝 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝟽-𝙴𝚕𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚗?

You hit send before you can overthink it, then immediately throw the phone down like it's contaminated. 

What the hell are you doing? He probably doesn't even remember you properly. Or worse, he does, and he'll think you're some desperate loser who can't make friends without dredging up people from elementary school.

Five minutes pass. 

Ten. 

You force yourself to unpack the last box, arranging toiletries in your tiny bathroom, pretending you're not listening for the message alert.

When the phone finally beeps, you nearly trip over your own feet rushing to check it.

𝐉𝐮𝐧𝐠 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐨𝐤: 𝙲𝙰𝙿𝚈?!?!? 𝙽𝙾 𝚆𝙰𝚈!!!!! 𝚈𝙾𝚄’𝚁𝙴 𝙸𝙽 𝙾𝚂𝙰𝙺𝙰????

All caps. Multiple exclamation points. Some things never change.

Before you can respond, another message:

𝐉𝐮𝐧𝐠 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐨𝐤: 𝚆𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞?? 𝚆𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚊𝚛𝚎𝚊?? 𝙸 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝙰𝙻𝙻 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚐𝚘𝚘𝚍 𝚏𝚘𝚘𝚍 𝚜𝚙𝚘𝚝𝚜! ヽ(°〇°)ﾉ

And then another:

𝐉𝐮𝐧𝐠 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐨𝐤: 𝚆𝚊𝚒𝚝 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚒𝚗 𝙾𝚜𝚊𝚔𝚊 𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚗𝚘𝚠?? 𝙻𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚁𝙸𝙶𝙷𝚃 𝙽𝙾𝚆???

You stare at the screen, a strange mixture of irritation and something warmer swirling in your chest. 

Of course he texts like an overcaffeinated teenager. Of course he uses those stupid Japanese emoticons. Of course he still calls you that ridiculous nickname.

You type back, deliberately keeping it casual:

𝐘𝐨𝐮: 𝚈𝚎𝚊𝚑, 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚖𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚍 𝚒𝚗. 𝙸’𝚖 𝚒𝚗 𝚃𝚎𝚗𝚗𝚘𝚓𝚒. 𝚂𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊 𝚓𝚘𝚋 𝚝𝚘𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚛𝚘𝚠 𝚊𝚝 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚔𝚎𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚎. 𝙰𝚗𝚍 𝚢𝚎𝚜, 𝚁𝙸𝙶𝙷𝚃 𝙽𝙾𝚆, 𝚊𝚜 𝚘𝚙𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚎𝚡𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚊𝚜𝚝.

The reply is instant:

𝐉𝐮𝐧𝐠 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐨𝐤: 𝚃𝙴𝙽𝙽𝙾𝙹𝙸?! 𝙸’𝚖 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝟷𝟻 𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚜 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎! 𝚃𝙷𝙸𝚂 𝙸𝚂 𝙵𝙰𝚃𝙴, 𝙲𝙰𝙿𝚈! (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧

You roll your eyes so hard it almost hurts. 

Fate. More like unfortunate coincidence. 

Your stomach chooses that moment to growl loudly, reminding you of the original purpose of this ill-advised communication.

𝐘𝐨𝐮: 𝚂𝚘... 𝚏𝚘𝚘𝚍 𝚛𝚎𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜? 𝙿𝚛𝚎𝚏𝚎𝚛𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚢 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚙𝚎𝚗 𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚊𝚗 𝙴𝚗𝚐𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚑 𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚞.

Three dots appear, disappear, appear again. Then:

𝐉𝐮𝐧𝐠 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐨𝐤: 𝙸 𝚌𝚊𝚗 𝚍𝚘 𝚋𝚎𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚗 𝚛𝚎𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚍! 𝙸’𝚕𝚕 𝚂𝙷𝙾𝚆 𝚢𝚘𝚞! 𝙸 𝚌𝚊𝚗 𝚋𝚎 𝚊𝚝 𝚃𝚎𝚗𝚗𝚘𝚓𝚒 𝚂𝚝𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚒𝚗 𝟸𝟶 𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚜! 𝙽𝚘𝚛𝚝𝚑 𝚎𝚡𝚒𝚝!  𝙸 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝙿𝙴𝚁𝙵𝙴𝙲𝚃 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚏𝚒𝚛𝚜𝚝 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕 𝙾𝚜𝚊𝚔𝚊 𝚖𝚎𝚊𝚕!!

You stare at the message in horror. 

No. Absolutely not. 

You did not sign up for actually seeing him tonight. You're not mentally prepared. Your hair is unwashed, you're wearing your oldest t-shirt, and you haven't slept properly in three days.

𝐘𝐨𝐮: 𝙸 𝚍𝚒𝚍𝚗’𝚝 𝚖𝚎𝚊𝚗 𝚝𝚘𝚗𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝.

𝐘𝐨𝐮: 𝙹𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚐𝚎𝚗𝚎𝚛𝚊𝚕 𝚛𝚎𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚊𝚛𝚎𝚊.

𝐉𝐮𝐧𝐠 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐨𝐤: 𝚃𝙾𝙾 𝙻𝙰𝚃𝙴! 𝙰𝚕𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚢 𝚙𝚞𝚝𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚗 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚎𝚜! ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ

𝐘𝐨𝐮: 𝙷𝚘𝚜𝚎𝚘𝚔, 𝙸’𝚖 𝚜𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚘𝚞𝚜. 𝙸’𝚖 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚍𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚐𝚘 𝚘𝚞𝚝.

𝐉𝐮𝐧𝐠 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐨𝐤: 𝚆𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚍𝚒𝚍 𝙲𝚊𝚙𝚢 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝚌𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚋𝚎𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚍𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚞𝚙? ヽ(°〇°)ﾉ 𝚂𝚎𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚒𝚗 𝟷𝟿 𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚜!

You throw your phone onto the futon with a groan. 

This is exactly why you hesitated to contact him. The man has no concept of boundaries. Never has. 

You remember how he used to climb through your bedroom window when you were thirteen because your mom said he couldn't come over until you finished your homework. He'd just sit on your floor, reading comics quietly, claiming he wasn't ‘technically’ visiting if he didn't talk.

You glance at your reflection in the small mirror above your sink. 

Dark circles under your eyes, hair pulled back in a messy ponytail, wearing sweatpants and a faded t-shirt from a concert you don't even remember attending.

"Fuck it," you mutter, grabbing a somewhat cleaner shirt from your suitcase.

You're not dressing up for him. You're just not going to give him ammunition to tease you about looking like a zombie.

As you change, you tell yourself this is purely about food. 

You're hungry. He knows places. End of story. 

It's not because some small, traitorous part of you is actually relieved to have someone familiar in this strange city. 

And it's definitely not because, despite everything, you're curious about what five years in Osaka has done to Jung Hoseok.

Sixteen minutes later, you're standing at the north exit of Tennoji Station, arms crossed over your chest, scanning the sparse Sunday evening crowd for a familiar face.

You spot him before he sees you. 

He's jogging toward the exit, still wearing that stupid orange beanie from his profile picture, a faded hoodie hanging loose on his frame. 

He looks... the same, somehow. 

Different, but the same. 

Like someone took the Hoseok you remember and just stretched him slightly, sharpened some edges, but left the core intact.

He hasn't seen you yet, and for a moment, you consider turning around and heading back to your apartment. 

Pretending you never messaged him. 

Starting fresh tomorrow without this complication.

Then he looks up, eyes scanning the area, and his entire face transforms when he spots you. 

His smile is so wide it should be physically painful, eyes crinkling at the corners, hand shooting up to wave frantically like you might miss the only person having a full-body spasm in the middle of the station.

"CAPY!" he shouts, loud enough to make several people turn and stare. "CAPYBARAAAAAA!"

You want to disappear into the concrete. 

Instead, you lift a hand in the smallest possible acknowledgment, your face already settling into the scowl that feels most natural around him.

He bounds over like an overexcited puppy, stopping just short of actually tackling you, which you half-expected him to do.

"Look at you!" he says, eyes scanning you from head to toe. "You look... exactly the same! But taller? Did you get taller? No, that's impossible, we're adults, we don't grow anymore. Maybe I shrunk? Did I shrink, Capy?"

He's talking too fast, shifting his weight from foot to foot like he can't contain the energy in his body. 

Some things really never change.

"Hello to you too, Ott," you say, the nickname slipping out before you can stop it. "And no, neither of us has experienced a height change. You're just as annoyingly tall as always."

His grin somehow gets wider at the nickname, like you've given him some kind of gift. "You remember! You still call me Ott! This is the best day!"

"It's been five years, not fifty. I haven't developed amnesia."

"Five years, three months, and approximately—" he makes a show of checking an imaginary watch, "—twelve days, but who's counting?"

You raise an eyebrow. "Apparently you are, which is concerning."

He laughs, the sound exactly as you remember it—too loud, slightly high-pitched, completely uninhibited. "Come on, I'm taking you to the best okonomiyaki place in Osaka. The owner has a daughter who speaks some English, so you can point at stuff if you need to."

Before you can protest, he's already walking, gesturing for you to follow. You hesitate for only a second before falling into step beside him.

"That's the best convenience store—they never card you for beer. That place has decent ramen but the bathroom is sketchy. Oh, and never go down that street at night unless you want to get offered 'massages' by very persistent men in suits."

You're barely listening, too busy trying to process the fact that you're walking through Osaka with Jung Hoseok, like the last five years never happened, like you're still the same people you were back in Sydney.

But you're not. You can't be. Too much has happened. Too much time has passed.

As if reading your thoughts, he glances at you sideways. "So. Marketing, huh? Always figured you'd end up doing something with all those fancy words you know."

"It's just copywriting. Nothing fancy."

"Still. International firm. Sounds impressive."

You shrug. "They just needed someone who speaks English. The bar was pretty low."

He nudges your shoulder with his. "Classic Capy. Never take a compliment when you can deflect it instead."

"It's not a compliment, it's an observation. And what about you? Still drawing?"

Something flickers across his face, too quick to catch. "Yeah. Still drawing."

"Anything I would have seen?"

He lets out a short laugh. "Uh, depends on what kind of websites you visit."

Before you can ask what the hell that means, he stops in front of a small restaurant wedged between a closed flower shop and what appears to be a tiny bar. The sign is all in Japanese, and the windows are steamed up from the heat inside.

"Here we are! Best okonomiyaki in the city, I swear."

As he slides open the door, the smell hits you—savory, slightly smoky, with hints of ginger and onion. Your stomach growls audibly, and Hoseok laughs.

"Someone's hungry! Don't worry, Capy, I'll feed you." He puts on a baby voice, reaching out like he's going to pinch your cheek. "Poor widdle Capybara, all alone in the big city with no food."

You swat his hand away. "Touch my face and lose the hand, Ott."

He clutches his chest dramatically. "Still so violent! I see Osaka hasn't softened you at all."

"I've been here three days."

"Ah, so there's still hope!"

The restaurant is small but cozy, with grill tables where customers cook their own okonomiyaki. 

An older woman greets Hoseok warmly in Japanese, exchanging a few sentences before she leads you to a table in the corner.

As you sit down across from him, the reality of the situation finally hits you. 

You're having dinner with Jung Hoseok. 

In Osaka. 

After five years of nothing but occasional likes on social media and that one awkward coffee shop meeting.

He's looking at you with a strange expression, head tilted slightly, like he's trying to solve a puzzle.

"What?" you ask, immediately defensive.

"Nothing," he says, but the look lingers. "Just... it's weird, right? You being here. In my city."

"It's not your city. You just live here."

"Five years makes it mine. Three days makes you the tourist."

"I'm not a tourist. I live here now."

His eyes widen slightly. "Wait, for real? Like, permanently?"

You shift uncomfortably. "Well, the contract is for a year initially. But yeah, I moved here. Shipped all my stuff. Got an apartment. The whole thing."

"Huh." He leans back, processing this information. "A whole year of Capy in Osaka. The city won't know what hit it."

The daughter—presumably—comes over with menus, speaking in careful, slow Japanese mixed with English phrases. 

Hoseok jumps in, ordering in fluent Japanese that flows so naturally you almost forget he's half-Australian. 

His mom made sure he was bilingual from the start, but hearing it now, surrounded by the actual language and culture, makes you realize how much more connected to this place he is than you.

When the waitress leaves, you raise an eyebrow. 

“Show off."

He looks genuinely confused. "What?"

"The Japanese. You sound like you actually belong here."

"I mean, I've lived here for five years. And I am half-Japanese, remember?"

You do remember. His mom speaking to him in Japanese when you were kids, though he'd usually respond in English because it was easier around you. 

Another piece of Hoseok that feels different now, more layered than the boy you knew.

"So," he says, leaning forward on his elbows, "what made you choose Osaka? Of all the cities in all the world, you just happened to pick the one where I've been living?"

There's something in his tone—playful, but with an edge of genuine curiosity—that makes you look away.

"The job offered the best package," you say, which is true. "And I needed a change from Sydney. That's it."

"That's it? Not even a little bit because you knew your favorite childhood friend was here?"

You roll your eyes. "You weren't my favorite childhood friend. You were an annoying neighbor who wouldn't leave me alone."

"I was totally your favorite," he insists, grinning. "You let me read your diary once."

"I did not! You stole it, and I pushed you into a bush for it!"

He laughs, the sound filling the small restaurant. "Oh yeah! I had scratches for weeks. Your mom thought I'd been attacked by a cat."

"You were. A human one."

The banter feels so familiar, so easy, that for a moment you forget the five-year gap, the distance, the strangers you've become. 

For a moment, it's just you and Ott, arguing like you're thirteen again.

The waitress returns with a tray of ingredients and begins preparing the grill built into your table. Hoseok watches you, strange expression back on his face.

"What?" you ask again.

He shakes his head slightly. "Nothing. It's just... good to see you, Capy. For real."

It catches you off guard, the sincerity in his voice. 

You don't know what to do with it, so you fall back on sarcasm.

"Well, don't get used to it. I'm going to be very busy with my important marketing job."

"Of course, of course. The great Y/N, too important for old friends." He contorts his gaze in fake agony. "How will I survive the rejection?"

"The same way you've survived the last five years, I imagine. Without a single thought about me."

It comes out more bitter than you intended, and you see it land—a slight widening of his eyes, a pause in his perpetual motion. 

For a second, neither of you speaks.

Then the waitress saves you by placing a bowl of batter on the table, demonstrating how to mix in the cabbage, meat, and other ingredients before pouring it onto the hot grill. 

Hoseok jumps in, taking over the cooking and flipping the pancake-like creation with surprising dexterity.

"I thought about you," he says quietly, eyes on the grill. "I just... didn't know what to say anymore. It felt like we'd gone in different directions."

You don't know how to respond to this sudden honesty, so you watch him cook instead. His hands move confidently, sprinkling bonito flakes and drizzling sauce over the okonomiyaki once it's cooked through.

"Try it," he says, cutting a piece and sliding the plate toward you. "Best thing you'll ever put in your mouth, I promise."

You take a bite, and damn it, he's right. The flavors explode on your tongue—savory, sweet, umami, with the perfect texture of crispy exterior and soft interior. You can't help the small sound of appreciation that escapes you.

Hoseok's face lights up. "See? What did I tell you! The Ott never lies about food."

"The Ott refers to himself in the third person now? That's not concerning at all."

He laughs, taking a huge bite of his own portion. "Some things change, Capy. But the important ones stay the same."

You're not sure what he means by that.

You focus on eating instead. 

The food really is incredible, and you realize just how hungry you've been, and for a few minutes, you both eat in companionable silence, the awkwardness fading under the simple pleasure of good food.

"So," he says eventually, "where's your apartment? Is it nice? Do you have roommates?"

"It's in the south part of Tennoji. It's tiny and depressing, and no, I live alone. The company arranged it."

"Alone? In Osaka? That's no fun. You should have called me before moving! I could have helped you find something better."

The idea of planning this move with Hoseok's input is so absurd you almost laugh. 

"Right, because we've been in such close contact."

He has the decency to look slightly abashed. "Yeah, well... we're fixing that now, right?"

You're not sure what to say to that either. 

Are you fixing it? Is that what this impromptu dinner means? Or is this just a one-off reunion before you both return to your separate lives in the same city?

"How's the manga going?" you ask instead, changing the subject. "I saw your blog. Looked like you were working on something."

That strange expression crosses his face again. "It's... going. It pays the bills."

"What kind of manga? Anything published?"

He coughs, suddenly very interested in arranging the remaining food on his plate. "Yeah, it's published. It's, uh... it's adult manga, actually."

It takes you a moment to process what he's saying. 

"Adult as in...?"

"As in not for kids." He meets your eyes. "Hentai, if we're being specific."

You blink. "You draw porn?"

"I draw adult-oriented manga with complex characters and narratives that happen to include explicit sexual content," he corrects, the words sounding rehearsed. "But yeah, essentially, I draw porn."

Of all the ways you imagined Hoseok's life had gone, this was not on the list. The boy who used to draw elaborate superhero comics in the margins of his school notebooks now draws hentai for a living.

You can't help it—you start laughing.

His face shifts from defiance to confusion. "What's funny?"

"Nothing, just..." You try to control your laughter. "Of course. Of course that's what you do. It's so perfectly ridiculous."

"Hey! It's legitimate art! I'll have you know I've won awards!"

This only makes you laugh harder. "Awards? For porn? Like what, 'Best Depiction of a Tentacle'?"

He rolls his eyes, but you can see the tension leaving his shoulders. "Mock all you want, but it pays well, and I'm good at it. I have a whole fan following online."

"I bet you do," you say, wiping tears of laughter from your eyes. "God, Ott. Only you would somehow turn drawing dirty pictures into a career with awards."

He grins, seemingly relieved that you're not judging him. "What can I say? I found my calling."

"Does your mom know?"

"She thinks I illustrate 'romance novels,'" he says, making air quotes. "And we're both happy with that explanation."

The image of Mrs. Jung proudly telling her friends that her son illustrates romance novels while he's actually drawing explicit hentai is somehow both hilarious and oddly sweet.

As your laughter subsides, you realize something. 

This is the first time you've really laughed since arriving in Osaka. 

The first time you've felt anything close to comfortable.

Hoseok is looking at you again with that soft expression that makes something flutter in your chest. 

You quickly squash it.

"What?" you ask for the third time tonight.

"I missed that," he says simply. "Your laugh. It's still the same."

“Well, don't get used to it. I don't plan on making a habit of laughing at your poor life choices."

"But you'll have to see me again to laugh at my future poor life choices," he points out, grinning. "So that means we're hanging out again, right?"

You hesitate. 

The sensible thing would be to thank him for dinner, go home, and focus on your new job. Keep things casual. A message here and there, maybe coffee someday. 

Not jump right back into whatever intense friendship you had as kids.

But there's something about sitting across from him in this tiny restaurant, the familiar rhythm of your bickering, that feels like the first real thing since you arrived in this city.

"I start work tomorrow," you say, neither a yes nor a no.

"Perfect! You'll need dinner after your first day. I'll show you another spot."

"I didn't agree to that."

"You didn't not agree either." He reaches across the table, stealing the last bite of your okonomiyaki with lightning speed. "Come on, Capy. You missed me too."

Too. 

You narrow your eyes at the theft of your food. "I will admit no such thing. And you'll pay for taking my food."

"See? Violent as ever." He beams like your threat is the greatest compliment. "I'll pick you up after work tomorrow. Where's your office?"

Before you can protest, he's already pulling out his phone, ready to input the address. 

And somehow, against every instinct screaming at you to maintain boundaries, you find yourself telling him.

He walks you back to your apartment building later.

And it’s not because you wanted to (you said no multiple times). But he insisted on seeing you home safely, ‘because Osaka can be confusing at night.’

So now here you are, both walking, side by side whilst keeping a deliberate distance between you. 

Most shops are closed by now, and the night air is cool against your skin, makes you nuzzle your sweater a little bit.

"This is me," you say, stopping in front of your building. 

It looks even more depressing at night, the lighting in the lobby flickering slightly.

Hoseok looks up at the building, assessing. "Not bad. Kind of reminds me of my first place here."

"Let me guess, you live somewhere amazing now, with your fancy porn money?"

He laughs. "Nah, still in a pretty basic apartment. Just with more bookshelves for all my manga research." 

He waggles his eyebrows suggestively at 'research.'

You roll your eyes. "Gross."

"You love it."

"I do not."

He grins, rocking back on his heels. "So, tomorrow. After work. I'll meet you at your office at... what time do you finish?"

"I don't know yet. And I didn't agree to tomorrow."

"Text me when you know," he says, completely ignoring your protest. "I'm free all evening."

You should say no. You should set boundaries now, before this becomes a thing. 

But the thought of coming back to your empty apartment after your first day at a new job in a foreign country...

"I'll text you," you concede. "But no promises."

His smile is annoyingly triumphant. "That's all I ask, Capy."

There's an awkward moment where neither of you seems to know how to say goodbye. 

In the past, you might have shoved him, or he might have ruffled your hair. 

Now, you stand a careful three feet apart, the years between you like a physical barrier.

"Well. Thanks for dinner," you say finally. "And the recommendation. It was good."

"Anytime. Seriously." There's that sincerity again, throwing you off-balance. "It's really good to see you, Y/N."

The use of your actual name instead of the nickname startles you. 

You look at him—really look at him—for the first time all night. There are new lines around his eyes when he smiles. His hair is different under that beanie, longer than he used to wear it. He's thinner than you remember, or maybe just more angular. 

But his eyes are the same, dark and warm and always, always watching you too closely.

"Yeah," you say, before you can think better of it. "You too, Hoseok."

His smile softens into something different, something that makes your stomach do a strange little flip. You quickly look away.

"Goodnight, Ott," you say, already turning toward the building entrance. "Don't get lost on your way home."

"Goodnight, Capy," he calls after you. "Sweet dreams about your first day in the big, scary office!"

You flip him off without looking back, his laughter following you as you enter the building.

Inside your apartment, you lean against the closed door, releasing a breath you didn't realize you were holding. 

The space feels even smaller after being out in the city, the silence more pronounced.

Your phone beeps with a message:

𝐉𝐮𝐧𝐠 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐨𝐤; 𝙼𝚊𝚍𝚎 𝚒𝚝 𝚑𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚜𝚊𝚏𝚎! 𝙸𝚗 𝚌𝚊𝚜𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚍 (𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚍𝚎𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚒𝚝𝚎𝚕𝚢 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎). 𝙶𝚘𝚘𝚍 𝚕𝚞𝚌𝚔 𝚝𝚘𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚛𝚘𝚠! 𝙶𝚊𝚗𝚋𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚎!!! ヽ(°〇°)ﾉ"

You stare at the screen, torn between annoyance and something dangerously close to affection.

𝐘𝐨𝐮: 𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚜𝚗’𝚝 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚍. 𝚈𝚘𝚞’𝚛𝚎 𝚊 𝚐𝚛𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚖𝚊𝚗 𝚠𝚑𝚘 𝚜𝚞𝚙𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚎𝚍𝚕𝚢 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚒𝚝𝚢.

Three dots appear immediately.

𝐉𝐮𝐧𝐠 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐨𝐤: 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚘𝚝𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚍. 𝙰𝚍𝚖𝚒𝚝 𝚒𝚝. 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚌𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚖𝚎𝚎𝚎𝚎𝚎.

𝐘𝐨𝐮: 𝙶𝚘𝚘𝚍𝚗𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝, 𝙷𝚘𝚜𝚎𝚘𝚔.

𝐉𝐮𝐧𝐠 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐨𝐤: 𝙶𝚘𝚘𝚍𝚗𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝, 𝙲𝚊𝚙𝚢! 𝚃𝚎𝚡𝚝 𝚖𝚎 𝚝𝚘𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚛𝚘𝚠! 𝙳𝚘𝚗’𝚝 𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚐𝚎𝚝! 𝙸’𝚕𝚕 𝚌𝚛𝚢 𝚒𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚐𝚎𝚝! 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚕 𝚝𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚜!!

You put the phone down without responding, but there's a small smile tugging at your lips that you can't quite suppress.

Tomorrow you start your new job. Tomorrow you begin the life you came to Osaka for. Tomorrow everything gets real.

But tonight, for just a few hours, it felt like maybe you weren't completely alone in this strange new city. Like maybe there was one person who still knew you, even after all this time.

You're not sure if that's comforting or terrifying.

Probably both.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

goal: 150 notes.

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[sambhavami]

I am so sorry. I just did not want to ask you this question. But my curiousity is killing me.

Do you think the disappearance of pradyumna as infant made Rukmini drift away from Krishna and limelight.

Or the age difference between them made it appear so. Like it happens when there is mismatch between couples in terms of age.

Also during The joking of Krishna,where she gets a panic attack she does counters him right.

Sorry 😔 i just want to know better

No worries! ❤️

The age difference between them didn't help their relationship, and neither did the Pradyumna thing.

There was always this power imbalance (like Krishna calling her a "silly girl" and a "scaredy cat" on many occasions, affectionately, but imagine that in public/semi-public, as the queen-mother with a daughter-in-law of herself). Also, consider Rukmi's personality- the way he handled the marriage situation, I highly doubt that Rukmini was ever taught to stand up for herself against her brothers/father. I am guessing the pattern continued with Krishna.

Also, she was married at a very early age (sources say 11), but, logically (for my own sanity), I'm going to say 13-14, as opposed to the usual 16-17 for other girls. Jambavati and Satyabhama are older, closer in age to Krishna, and have solid family support. They are therefore able to afford mouthing off to Krishna more often.

Krishna always wanted her to be an equal, voice her opinions and not just blindly follow him around. Instead, she listens to the 'society' around her and becomes this hyper-submissive 'devotee' almost, annoying Krishna to no end.

Rukmini's response too is understandable. When Krishna made that joke, Rukmini reacts quite predictably. She is already young, anxious and sensitive, and if Krishna were to throw her out of his house, she would have literally nowhere to go. For her, probably no one even taught her (given he mother also had passed away), what flirtations and jokes look like within a married couple, and she never learned to recognize the difference between jokes and actual abuse (maybe her brothers were rude to her and then said, oh I was just joking).

Now, Krishna is a drama queen, we shouldn't forget that. So, when he said what he said, he was acting as though he was dead-serious, and Rukmini was a bit too naive to catch that.

Dr. Bhaduri describes that situation as: since Krishna had come to visit her after a gap [of being with other wives], she had on this occasion, dressed up to the nines with the most expensive jewellery, like 7-8 necklaces and stuff, and then she sat had Krishna down on her white-sheet-fitted bed and started fanning him, massaging his feet etc. Just being quite extra.

We should also remember Krishna's childhood- where he started, and where he is now. Given his background, a princess of Vidarbha, noted even then as an incarnation of Lakshmi, acting like a maid in his presence, it embarrassed him.

Also, imagine the gossip! Satyabhmaa gets parijata, Jambavati gets him to do tapasya, and Rukmini gets whipped around by Durvasa! (Look at how he treats his youngest wife! The one who couldn't pay her dowry because her family won't talk to her! Look at how Krishna makes her work so much more than his richer wives!)

We, the readers, know that this is 110% just Rukmini (maybe, yes, she is overcompensating for not being politically or materially 'beneficial' for Krishna) being herself, but Krishna is getting bombarded with these accusations in public, that he cannot really counter. Even if he tried to explain, any sane person would still blame him, thanks to largely the age gap itself.

There is also a sense of failure and disappointment on Krishna's part, that he feels that even in so many years, Rukmini hasn't been able to trust him fully, or rather that he hasn't been able to give her a sense of security enough for her to lash out at or oppose him every once in a while. Instead, when he tried to get a rise out of her, she cried, fainted and got up and said, "You're my god and I am nothing."

[mollypaup]

i think a really great aspect of oofuri is how much it gets mihashi's ass for being overly timid and dependent. it would be really easy to write off the way he and abe interact as being abe's fault because he is overbearing, and a lot of people do, but it has some really great moments of going "hey, you cannot hide behind abe or depend on him to make every decision. it's not good for you, or him, or the team."

[beef-brisket]

Bel smiled softly: That won't happen, Adam.

Adam: Yeah. I know. No need to comment on it, man...

Bel: Hm... well, I think it needs commenting on. The past won't and can't change. And I feel like that's what led you to this point. I'm curious, why did you sign a contract with Valentino? You've been the leader of the Exorcists for thousands of years, you can't expect me to believe you had no idea who Valentino was.

Adam tensed. He wasn't used to being called out like this- okay, he was. But it was bringing back some less than nice memories.

Adam: I... k-knew of him. I just... I was scared- and I didn't want to go to Lucifer- or his kids' place, so... I don't know... he helped me. Without question.

Bel nodded: And what was your contract?

Adam: ...I would perform for him, act for him- do photoshoots, dance... fuck whoever paid. I did everything he wanted me to do... I'm his- I was his...

Bel: How did you get a drug addiction?

Adam: ...I didn't want to work this one night- my body was killing me, but he wouldn't let me out of it... he gave me... something. It was like a restart. I felt sick. But really good... I worked for over 30 hours. I didn't even realise he left. Been addicted ever since...

Bel: And what happened after Lucifer broke her contract?

Adam tensed up: I-I went back to Val...

Bel: What did he do?

Adam: ...T-Tortured me. F-For a week... t-then dumped me in the trash. Like I'm nothing- I am nothing. W-Worthless.

The sin watched Adam curl up on the couch, bringing his legs to his chin: I-I tried! I always tried! It didn't matter what I did- he said he loved me! He was the first one to say he loved me- to treat me so sweetly- l-like I matter...

Bel: But you don't. You didn't in Eden. You didn't on Earth. You didn't in Heaven... so, why did you think Hell was any different?

Adam quickly teared up as Bel talked, and by the time she was finished, he was crying so hard, he didn't think he could answer her.

Adam: I-I don't know- I-I ju-just- wanted- to b-be-... f-fuck- I don't... w-want to t-talk, an-anymore...

Bel: ...You can't keep running away from the obvious, Adam. That's where I'm going with this. I'm telling you a lie. Of course, you matter. But you let the actions of people make you believe you don't. Or didn't. You need to be more... independent, Adam. You rely on people. And they let you down. Even those who claim to care about you.

Adam: ...I don't want to be alone.

Bel: ...But, after everything, you are alone. Aren't you?

The sin sat in silence as Adam cried.

Bel: ...This leads back to my previous comment. The past won't change. It'll always hurt. You had a lot of commitments in Heaven... willingly?

Adam slowly shook his head 'no'.

Bel: You're in Hell. You're a sinner. This is your chance to do something with your afterlife, Adam. So survived permanent death that day outside the hotel. People have hurt you here. People have hurt you in Heaven, your own family hurt you on Earth, and the only three people you loved in Eden all decided you weren't good enough. Not important enough to add to the risk factor. Lilith and Lucifer, your wife and best friend, left paradise. Left YOU. Only to come back after Heaven tore open your skin and pulled a bone out of you. But they weren't there for you, but for the one that came from you. Eve. They didn't come for you. They didn't care that you were alone. And would be alone again after they take Eve... did you bite the apple, Adam?

Adam: ...D-Didn't need to... Heaven said- t-the pain- I went through... made me aware...

Bel: So, your entire being is built on pain and loneliness. All of this is brought on by other people... what are your hobbies, Adam?

Adam: D-Don't know...

Bel: No? I don't believe you.

Adam: ...Gardening...

Bel smiled: That's good. Do you have a garden in Hell?

Adam shook his head: I... don't want to ask... him.

Bel: And you shouldn't. Get a job. Earn money. YOUR money. Buy your plants. Maybe you could afford your own place.

Adam: M-My place...?

Bel: Your place. You're a good person, Adam. You're just hurt. Damaged. Broken. You have more than. 10,000 years worth of pain to heal from. Which is possibly impossible. But, you've survived worse, haven't you?

Adam: ...S-Stabbed in the chest... so... yeah... L-Lucifer fucked me up in Val's apartment. I... I'd like my own place...

Bel: To heal?

Adam: Y-Yeah... maybe... be... better?

Bel smiled: That's a good goal, Adam. A very good goal. Independence. Growth. And improvement. All things I believe you can do. Without anyone's help or interference. Especially Lucifer's.

✨️Stardust✨️

@talesfromawannabewriter

((⚠️tw: Valentino and literally everything⚠️

Adam stumbled into the staff bathroom. He made a silent prayer that it was empty. He could feel his legs giving way, his whole body shaking and sweating. His outfit felt tight and suffocating.

Stumbling to the sink, Adam used his arms to hold himself up. He hated looking in the mirror, even in Heaven, but now? After what he's become? Nearly every mirror in his apartment was smashed, he couldn't look at himself. At the mess of a stranger he's become.

But, he had to fix his make-up, so he would grin and bear it.

He felt like he was going to be sick as he braced himself.

Looking up into the mirror, he felt like he was looking at a stranger. His pupils were blown wide. He looked like he hadn't slept in days- which wasn't a lie. He felt like a stranger.

Adam jumped when he heard the door open, the noise from the club deafening him for a second before the door closed.

Valentino: Ah, there you are, baby~.

He hated how his heart skipped a beat hearing that it was Valentino. Adam leaned into the moths touch when he came up next to him.

Valentino: And here I thought you were running away~.

Adam: N-No, daddy. Just-.

Valentino: Shh, baby boy. I know what you need. I can see it written all over you~.

The first man's mouth watered when the mother held up a little baggie of white powder. Adam's eyes followed it as Val waved it in front of his face.

Valentino: Hm, I'm not sure if you deserve it, darling. You owe me so much already!

Adam panicked: I-I'll pay you back, daddy- I promise! I just... I just need-.

Valentino: Time? Money? Work~?

Adam: W-Work- daddy. More- work.

The first man gasped as the moth grabbed his jaw and pulled him into a kiss. Adam wanted to push him away, but he couldn't. Deep down, he didn't want to. He moaned as Val's saliva coated his mouth and ran down his throat.

Valentino: Work can be arranged, baby~. So, you want daddy's stardust~?

Adam: P-Please, daddy- please.

Valentino: Fuck, I love it when you beg~. Mm, just this once, Addie.

Adam felt his heart race, and his palms got sweaty as Valentino cut a small line of powder before handing him a little paper tube.

He hated how many times he's done this. He doesn't even need to think about it. Snorting up the drug, he breathed a sigh of relief. Closing his eyes, Adam moaned, and she felt that horrible shaking go away.

Valentino: Good boy... now, get your loose ass back out there.

He nodded and kissed Val on the cheek before making his way to the door.

Valentino: Oh, and Adam?

Turning around, Adam smiled sweetly at Val: Yeah, daddy?

Valentino: Come see me when your shifts finished, I think we need some... personal time~.

Adam almost moaned at the thought.

He opened the door and smiled when everyone cheered. Adam knew everyone wanted to fuck him, it felt... good. Familiar. Like Heaven. His own personal Heaven.

Valentino: Go get em, baby~.

[pocketgalaxies]

hi! seeing you during all this ep95 mess has been a breath of fresh air. you seem to have a really firm grasp of canon so I wanted to ask what you think of the recent discord message from Liam where he says Orym didn't know that Laudna was under Delilah's influence when she killed Bor'dor? I watched the clip from 4SD, & it's pretty clear that Liam says Orym understood Laudna was opening the door for Delilah when he encouraged her to kill Bor'dor & even says "we'll need that." But the Discord message seems to walk that back. It's been super frustrating being accused of vilifying Orym or infantilizing Laudna for repeating what Liam himself said. I just don't really know how to reconcile these two statements from Liam & it has me a bit confused on Orym's character.

hi anon, thank you!

this turned into a much longer one than i was expecting dfksjdkfs

so last week i posted this Really Long Ask about the whole discussion, if you want to take a look. but i intentionally didn't bring up liam's discord message because you're right! it seemed contradictory to something that was stated in the past, which was confusing

honestly i think the most realistic answer is that liam probably didn't mean for what he said on 4SD to be understood as such a strong and maybe even polarizing character choice. i think a lot of us heard it as "orym sees delilah as a useful/necessary asset that outweighs what might happen to laudna afterward." particularly because he framed it as something that made the whole situation "even creepier," and during that same convo, marisha was emphasizing the psychological impact that killing bor'dor had on laudna. it's a strong stance and it reflects what orym is doing to himself (handing his endgame over to the questionably fickle nana morri to increase their chances of success against ludinus)

but i suppose liam's clarification suggests that he meant it in a softer, more practically level-headed way, like "orym knew he couldn't do a whole lot about delilah's return but he also thought it could have benefits," or something along those lines. they're obviously two hugely different interpretations with pretty big implications on how we understand orym's relationship with laudna

i'm not a connoisseur of orym's character by ANY means so i can't confidently tell you what the change might mean from a narrative perspective, but i personally still prefer the former stronger stance. because i think it raises interesting questions about how orym views his own place in this war and whether or not it's valid for him to (intentionally or subconsciously) project that placement onto the other party members. is it okay for orym to expect the same level of personal sacrifice from laudna, or imogen with predathos (a whole separate can of worms), or anyone else? is it safe? etc etc. but maybe liam doesn't want to go in that direction, or maybe he does but just not in the way we expect, i don't know! only time will tell!

also regardless of what he meant, i think it's important to acknowledge that it's really easy and completely understandable to feel like he was walking something back. that episode of 4SD was almost a whole year ago! many of us built that statement into our perception and understanding of orym's character for a long time, so it's totally valid to go "wait what the fuck???" when liam suddenly pops into the discord to say that's not what he meant. those feelings are valid and real! especially when discourse can already make you question your own intelligence and your personal interpretations of a story, having that pillar, as big or small as it might've been in your mind, knocked over can be really jarring. you are very much not alone in that, and it's okay!!

[disapprove]

"I'm very serious. If you guys are really as could as you portray, I'm happy to do a little word for you. Send me some of your stuff later. It's also an extra excuse to get some more Spanish sun for you... ¿Quién no querría eso?, who wouldn't want that?" Her mother being Spanish did help her to speak another language. "So I'll meet you in the spa tomorrow morning, book us both a massage. You might need it, in case we make it late." She said with a small smile.

Eden followed his gaze to Duke and she chuckled. "Oh, he totally knows that he's a handsome guy." She said. "And he looks like he knows exactly what to say to wrap a lady around his finger." Eyes moved back to Rhett. Sure, Duke was hot - but there was something about Rhett that she enjoyed more. Maybe it was the fact that he didn't try, he was genuinely confident in just the way he spoke or walked. That itself was attractive for her. Eden was probably looking at him for a little too long, with her mind going places they shouldn't go to. So she just moved to the bar and leaned to the side.

"I can't make any promises. Sometimes it goes real quick. That tiny body of mine and this heat-" She shook her head slowly. "Alcohol is a deadly thing for me, then." Eden chuckled. "But it's great that you're willing to look after me. Might take that as an excuse to have a good time myself instead of babysitting the other. Please do take my room key after my third drink tonight. I have a thing for losing those and yesterday it was kind of my last warning from the staff that I won't be getting another key if I lose this one." Eden confessed. "Must protect this one with all I got." As he ordered the cocktails for them, she raised her brows and was unable to hide the chuckle falling from her lips. "Fruity, fun and I'm on freakin vacation," Eden repeated. "This better be good." The blonde hopped onto one of the bar stools, watching the bartender making their drinks. "So what kind of diner are you taking us tonight? Is it casual, fancy?" Eden asked. "Might already think about what I'm wearing." Because now, it was just a ponytail, no make-up and a bikini.

"Yeah something like that," Rhett smirked knowing their work sometimes became more personal with some clients. At the mention of her father owning a vineyard his ears perked up becoming a bit curious. "The idea of wanting us to work for your father would defeat the purpose of this just being a little fun while on vacation. I won't mind passing my number along though if you're serious." He offered with a casual shrug of his shoulders. "Fair to say we both deserve a massage, I'm sure the spa gives some real good deep tissue shit too."

Although she was kidding the idea of his brother getting taken advantage of that amused him a bit. "Hey if that happen to Duke, the dude has it coming. He's still all about soaking up as much attention as he can from women even if he pretends he isn't."

When Eden mentions her low tolerance Rhett raises his eyebrows. "I'll be sure to keep that in mind, I won't be above carrying you back to the resort to make sure you get to your room safely. No dancing on tables tonight sweetheart." When the bartender came over he ordered for them both. "Can we get a couple of cocktails, something special, you know that you can only get at this place? Something fruity and fun that screams, I'm on a freakin' vacation. Make mine strong, hers not so strong."

[s2pdoktopus]

Me with my favorite fictional morally dubious terrorists/war criminals: Half the things they are experiencing is their own fault but they deserve better actually, for you see; if that didn't happen they wouldn't have to do these.

Me with my ocs who killed at most 10 people: EVIL! You have your reasons but that's no excuse. SUFFERRRRRRRRR!!!

[nobodybetterlookatme]

Wait I think I missed something in this incredible saga. Are you going on a date with the coworker??? I swear the last thing I saw was “no I would never” lmaoooo. If so, I (like the rest of snzblr) are anxious for updates about your love life. You’re one of the top snzblr couples now, enjoy 🤙

I did say I would never and I was a fucking liar apparently 😔 it's not technically a date tho bc I never told him it was bc I need to be so casual and mysterious ahdkaksk but it's a date To Me lmao. It's tomorrow tho bc we're still at work rn and it doesn't look like we're leaving anytime soon so at least I have that to look forward to I guess lmao