#so the only way to be receptive to the world and to your purpose is to unfold your creases and learn to love each wrinkle and tear

[raspberryjellybrains]

the only way to be truly normal is to not be deeply repressed. the rest is golden.

[gilverrwrites]

Fake Dating tropes with (some of) the birds and the bats. Ft. Babs, Bruce, Dick, Duke, Jason, Kate, and Tim.

GN!Reader, ≈200-250 words each CWs: None graphic mentions of sex, none-graphic injuries, none -graphic mentions of drugs, intentionally minipulative behaviours.🩷

Barbara

The two of you weren’t exactly not dating. Attached at the hip, making goo-goo eyes in person and inappropriate comments over the comms line when apart; it was obvious to anyone with eyes or ears that something was going on there, you just hadn’t put a name on it yet. It’s something the two of you had made plans to nail down and discuss during your sort of but not really a date-date tonight.

But you had only gone and got yourself shot during what should have been a simple trip to the bank. It wasn’t life-threatening, but you’d been rushed off in an ambulance, you’d need surgery, a lot of meds, and months, if not years of physio to get your arms back into shape.

Barbara didn’t know that at the time though, she’d been panic-stricken from the moment she found out. Emotions getting the better of her, brain running at 100 miles a minute as she rushed to the hospital.

“Partners and family only.” The nurse had told her. And without hesitation, she’d responded: “I am their partner.”

Her lie paid off, allowing her access to your bedside, as well as a full update on your status. There wasn’t another face in any universe you would have rather seen upon waking up from surgery. Now you just had to keep up the appearance of being a married couple until you were discharged, maybe longer.

Bruce

It’s a well-organised and thoroughly thought-out publicity stunt. Bruce needed someone new on his playboy roster, and you needed the media to circulate literally anything other than the less-than-flattering leaks that had been sold to them without your consent.

All you had to do was follow the itinerary. A couple of soft launch social media pics, a few whispers to the looser-lipped socialites of your circles, and some ‘private’ candid photo ops of the two of you dating:

Snuggling under the shade of an oak tree in Gotham Park, wearing matching caps and sunglasses that do little to hide your identities as you read a shared copy of Romeo and Juliet together.

Sitting in his car, in the parking lot of Big Belly Burger, munching on an unseemly large order of burgers and fries together. Nobody questions why the previously tinted windows of Bruce’s car are now clear.

Intimately and provocatively embracing, tastefully half nude on the balcony of your uptown apartment. The press didn’t need to know that you’re actually renting an Airbnb for the weekend, for exactly this purpose, and nothing more.

Everything was carefully planned, right down to the T for maximum impact and minimal effort. The only thing that hadn’t been accounted for was one, or both of you catching feelings in the time you’d spent together.

Dick

He’s never been able to say no to you, you know it, he knows it. So when you ask him in an act of desperation to be your fake-boyfriend for your ex’s wedding he’s quick to inform you that this is the dumbest idea he’s ever heard, and that he’s 110% on board.

He takes you shopping for matching outfits, picks you up on the day in Bruce’s flashiest car, suprises you with something pretty, compliments you loudly and romantically at every chance and won’t take his hands off you all the way through the ceremony. He's attentive and outwardly passionate. Not only is he playing the role of the world's best-ever (fake-)boyfriend, he’s making sure everyone in the vicinity knows you’re a (fake) couple.

It’s during the reception when that funny feeling really starts to settle in. The hairs on edge, butterflies in your belly feeling. Maybe it’s the happy, romantic atmosphere, the soppy music, the way his hands sit so perfectly on your hips as he sways you round and around on the dance floor. Maybe it’s the way he’s looking at you with those mesmeric blue eyes but damn if you don’t want to kiss him, right here, right now.

Duke

It was a stupid idea, and his family would give him so much shit if when they found out, but you’d argued that “we’ll never know if it might actually work unless we try” and that had sold him on giving it a go. Even if he thought about calling it off at every turn.

What was the stupid plan, and why was it necessary? Well, your ex was dating his crush, and you’d figured fake-dating might redirect their attention to the two of you. And if not, no harm done, right?

Big harm done. Over the next few months, Duke and yourself had spent most of your free time in close proximity. Sharing clothes, food, and ‘plan-related’ intimate details about each other. When you weren’t together you were glued to your phone, awaiting his texts, refreshing his socials.

Somewhere amongst all the dinner dates, and ‘strictly-business’ public making out sessions, your plan worked; his crush took notice, how could they not, Duke was perfect.

Your ex did not. Not that you cared, you’d moved on, to someone who was about to become equally as unavailable.

Jason

He was trying to infiltrate an infamous drug ring so he could take it down from the inside and needed someone in the know who could double as arm candy to sell his story. You’d already been trying to get your foot in the door for weeks now, but lacked enough street cred for them to take a chance on you. It only made sense that you would join forces.

For a while it’s fun, hanging off his arm, letting his hands roam your body freely, loud-whispering all the things you wanted to do to him for anyone to hear. You really enjoyed pretending to be his devilish trophy partner. You enjoyed the nights where it wasn’t pretend even more. But all good things must come to an end.

He served his purpose of getting you where you needed to be, but now he was getting a little too close to building a compelling case against the ring, you couldn’t let that happen, you had much bigger plans for it.

What? You’d promised information, not loyalty.

Kate

You’re both socialites with fairly large internet followings who run in the same circles. Your relationship has always been that of friendly acquaintances until a photographer snaps an innocuous photo of you both entering the bathroom at the same time and the media goes crazy.

Despite putting out very clear, separate statements, clarifying that there is nothing going on, your respective followers grab the ball and sprint with it until you both innocently start to play along. Leaving flirty comments on each other selfies, acting appalled when the other is rumoured to be dating someone else, tagging each other in scenic snaps that could be considered romantic: graffiti hearts, colourful sunsets, starry skies from the candlelit table of a wine bar.

It’s completely harmless of course, it’s all a joke, until it’s not. Until you actually find yourself flustered by her comments, really wishing she was sharing your dinners, until you brace yourself and send the first DM.

Tim

He really is the whole package. Handsome, hardworking, dedicated, polite, and as smart as he is rich. You can understand why your grandma was so excited, calling you from across the country to confirm if you were the mystery person spotted out and about with Bruce Wayne’s second youngest. You hadn’t lied when you’d said yes, you’d just neglected to tell her that you were only friends. You figured it would get her off your back about finding a nice boy for a while. It kind of felt nice, talking to somebody other than yourself about your big fat crush on him and in your defence, you hadn’t expected things to escalate so quickly.

One minute she’s bragging about her grandchild’s new boyfriend to the ladies in her swim aerobics class, the next she’s booked a flight to come and visit so she can meet him.

If you’d known what she was planning you would have confessed, but she’d already forked out the cash for her plane ticket so you swallowed your pride and begged Tim to help. He wouldn’t even have to do much, just spend the weekend nodding and smiling at an old woman’s stories and then he could reap the rewards of your eternal gratitude. You’d promised 6 months of undisputed lording it over you and a lifetime of freshly made cold brew.

Smile and nod, that’s all you expect, but apparently, that was too easy. Tim just had to make what was already an embarrassing situation, a million times worse. ‘Perfect grandson-in-law’, your ass.

[mewintheflesh-2]

Without You

Rating: Teen and Up audiences

Archive warnings: None

Characters: Francis Mosses, Original Characters

Tags: Unrequited Love, heartbreak, Song: Without You (Strawberry Guy), Crushes, Unrequited Crushes, Francis Mosses has sensory issues (briefly mentioned), minor blood and injury, Francis deals with the qualms of being a retail worker (kinda), men crying, emotional hurt, hurt/no comfort, not beta read, Reader is gender neutral.

Word count: 1,800 (rounded down)

Summary: Francis wasnt having a good time.

And you're not about to make it any better

Also posted on Ao3

Francis sighed solomly as he gripped the now empty milk carrier. Hard enough to leave imprints on his hand and whiten his knuckles.

His black leather shoes clicked and clacked against the cold, concrete sidewalk. The sunset painting everything around him in a golden light. It'd be nighttime soon.

He lifted his free hand to his head and clutched his sweaty hair from underneath his hat. He was so tired. He just wanted to get home and sleep.

But he mostly just wanted to talk to you.

Even if you only really talked through that thick, protective window, youd been making more and more conversation with eachother each time you spoke, getting to know eachother more and more each day.

It wasnt long before Francis' lovesick brain fell head over heels.

It was everything about you. The way you looked, with a smile rivaling the warmth of the sun, and just as dangerous to his heart and mind. You always seemed to know exactly what to say to him to pull at his heart like a puppet on a string.

If he didnt know any better, hed say you were doing it on purpose.

He wouldnt mind either way.

Francis slugged up to the reception window, a weight lifted off of him at the sight of you at your desk.

He pushed his ID and Entry Request inside the letterbox for you to receive, planting his hands on the metal shelf jutting out of the wall just below the window; watching you expectantly with a simultaneous aching and soothing feeling in his heart.

After a minute of shuffling papers and opening folders, you look up at him.

"Hello, Francie." You smiled warmly at him.

There it was.

That nickname.

God how it made his heart swell. 

'Francie.'

Such a cute nickname

and it was just for him, gifted from you.

"How's your day been?" You tilted your head slightly at him, setting down and organizing his identification and sliding his profile back into the appropriate folder.

Francis looked at you for a second before frowning. "Not great." He sighed as he shook his head softly, looking down at his shoes.

Your eyebrows knit together in concern, a frown adorning your lips.

"I'm sorry, Francie. What happened, if you dont mind me asking?" Your voice was so warm and soft as you leaned in closer to the window.

It made Francis' heart flutter for a second before he had to think back to all that had happened earlier.

"It's just a lot of little things building up. I'm probably more upset about it than I should be." Francis looked down at his hands, and then up to you.

The expression on his face was just killing your heart. 

"Im all ears." You speak softly as you push your chair in closer to your desk, and by extension, the window.

"If theres anything you need to say, then say it. Its always nice to get things off your chest, dont you think?" You smile softly at him, pushing your chair closer to your desk, and closer to the window by extension.

"Are you sure?" Francis looked around, almost worried. Surely he'd be taking up your time on your job if he did that, right?

"I have all the time in the world-- and I'd rather be talking to you than anything else right now." You assured, that deadly warm smile on your lips again.

The words made Francis feel warm and soft.

A small smile appeared on his face for a brief, fleeting moment. 

 Francis stared at you for a moment, as if asking for approval to speak.

You nod.

He sighed, looking down at the metal shelf infront of him as his ungloves hands tapped at it, wondering where to begin.

"Its just- work has been just awful today.  Someone had left their dog outside, as soon as it saw me it wouldn't stop chasing me, i tried to run away, but it eventually caught up to me and bit my leg.

It wouldnt let go until I had to pry it off of me. And even then it didn't leave me alone for awhile. Not until it's owners came back to take it off of me." 

You frowned, trying to open your mouth to speak, but Francis kept talking.

"And because of that dog, i dropped and broke multiple milk bottles on the sidewalk. So after the dog got taken off of me, i tried picking up the glass since I didn't want anybody accidentally stepping on it because of me, but the shards cut me. Badly. Even through my gloves."

He held his hand up to the window for you to see. There were bloodied bandages wrapped around his hand, and several smaller cuts on his bare fingers. 

You cringe at the sight.

"I had to take them off to clean the wounds, and everything has just been sensory hell ever since." Francis' face draws to a grimace.

"And to make things worse, I had to deal with people yelling at me for being incompetent for losing their deliveries."

He clenched his jaw, his expression doesn't look anything but sad.

"Even though it wasn't even my fault. I'm not the one who left their dog outside. And just to top it off, I've had a horrible migrane all day, and It's just-" He inhales and groans,  collapsing onto the metal shelf infront of him.

"I just want to take a break. I just want to rest."

He mumbles as he tucks his face into his folded arms.

Silence, for a moment.

"Francie........... That's awful-- I'm so sorry. Is there anything I can do to help?" You frown sympathetically as you push you chair forward even more, squishing yourself against your desk and placing a hand on the window infront of you.

Francis lifted his head to look up at your hand, and then at you.

"I think talking to you and going to sleep is  enough for me to feel better." Francis smiled briefly before registering what he'd said, casting his gaze anywhere but you after he realized what he'd spoken.

You laugh softly. "If you say so."

Silence for a bit, as Francis regains his composure.

He lifts himself up, slowly propping himself on his elbows on the shelf, leaning his head on his knuckles, huffing out a breath of air.

"...How was your day?" He asks after a beat, head tilted curiously.

You smile, retracting your hand from the window. "My days been pretty slow, but im meeting someone later, so im pretty excited for that."

Meeting someone?

...

Francis blinked for a second. His expression faltering to a look of sadness for just a moment.

No. Surely you didnt mean it like that.

"Meeting someone...?" He echoed.

"Mhm." You smiled softly at the thought. "We met just a few days ago. He seems pretty nice, I'm excited to get to know him more." You lean your head on your hand, mirroring the man behind the glass.

"A-ah.......... Congratulations." Francis did his best to refrain from letting any indication of his emotions fall upon his face as he straightened himself out; but he couldn't help but frown. 

"Francie? Are you alright?" You tilted your head the slightest bit, voice a catalyst of concern for the man standing on the other side of the thick, protective glass. 

"Mhm. I just remembered something. Apologies." He held the brim of his cap between his pointer and thumb, pulling it down over his eyes the slightest bit to avoid looking at you. But he really couldn't help himself.

"Oh, alright. Is there, uh, anything I can help you with?" Your voice was calm and careful in a way that just broke poor Francies heart even more. "About what you remembered- I mean." 

"No, no. It's fine. Thanks for the offer." He shook his head softly, forcing a small smile as he looked down at the shelf infront of him.

"Of course, Francie." Your eyebrows knit together in concern. "Just let me know if there's anything I can do for you. You can tell me anything." 

"Mhm. Thank you." Francis took a quick glance at the door, before looking back in your direction-- though nowhere near directly at you. You put together he was probably signaling to you that he wanted to leave now.

"I'll see you tommorow?" Your voice was soft, sweet, a delicacy and a curse to Francis' ears.

There was a light buzzing noise as you pressed the button to unlock the main entrance. 

"Mhm. Goodbye." He waved at you softly, only actually looking into your eyes for a brief, fleeting moment before walking away. 

"Goodbye........." You spoke quietly, a soft pit in your stomach as you watched Francis dissappear through the doors.

You were so caught off guard by his sudden change in behavior you nearly forgot to lock the door again.

He usually liked to stay for as long as he could.

Was it something you said?

You frowned, leaning back in your chair and fidgeting with some papers.

You'd have to ask him about it tomorrow.

Again began the waiting for your neighbors to return to their apartments.

Francis opened his apartment door with shaking hands, keys jingling as they were set on his kitchen counter.

With a heavy sigh, he flicked on his lamp, enveloping the room in a warm yellow glow, trying to keep his composure.

Slowly but surely he kicked off his shoes, grabbing and throwing his hat onto his dresser.

Just as he was about to unbutton his uniform he was hit with a sudden disgusting, sickening feeling in his chest as tears welled up in his eyes.

He shook his head, eyes squinting involuntary as he let himself fall onto his bed.

He lied there, staring at the ceiling, trying to ignore anything he was feeling.

But no matter how many times he tried, something still peeked through.

He inhaled sharply through his nose as he flipped himself over onto his stomach, nestling his face into his soft pillows.

The feeling in his chest was too intense to bear, he could feel his breath become sporadic, unsure if it was because his face was buried in his pillows or otherwise.

He inhaled sharply once more, this time followed followed by a small Hic as his throat began to close up.

No, no, he wasn't going to cry. It's not that big of a deal. He's fine. He should be happy for you if anything.

But. With everything that happened up until that point. He really couldn't help himself from letting his emotions get the best of him.

Hot tears soaked into his pillow as his hands clutched at his hair violently, hissing in pain as his wounds flexed open.

He grits his teeth, another hic escaping his lips as he opened his eyes into the pillow.

Nothing but a warm, yellowish void.

 He pushed himself up and flipped onto his side, curling into himself, yanking a blanket over his shoulders before clutching his head, throbbing in a burning pain once again as he cried quietly.

He didn't even turn off the lamp before he'd passed out.

Silent, steady breathing, wet cheeks illuminated by the soft yellow light of his lamp. 

Tired eyes, finally getting their well deserved rest. 

An aching heart, beating slowly, deep inside his chest.

[a-little-revolution]

Hi lovely, I hope you are well?

I saw the ask about the bathroom accommodations and it got me really interested in two things.

1) what are accommodations that are hLepful (trying to 'help' without actually considering the needs of the individual, for example the step not enabling independence and I imagine from prior posts that it would also cause strain on your joints? (Plus the whole hygiene side, run into that one myself with suggested accommodations) )

2) what accommodations would you want to see in public spaces (doesn't have to be bathroom related, this just showed me a gap in my awareness and I'd like to work on it so I can include more awareness whenever I'm partaking in conversations around accessibility. If you have prior posts do link them, the only one that's coming to my mind right now was discussing the lack of accessibility in hospitals)

Hope you have a good pain/energy day, and I really love your style!

Hello! Indeed, I spoke about some ways to make public spaces more accessible for little people here - particularly when it comes to public washrooms. Here's some more accommodations I'd love to see!

I would love to see more information/reception desks with varying heights! This is an excellent piece of infrastructure that allows little people (and wheelchair users) full access to the counter and a place to speak to an attendant.

In the realm of public counter tops - a huge point of inaccess for me is grocery store conveyor belts. They come to about my chest, which makes loading and packing very difficult. And the "accessible" lane is no different! Plus every grocery store I've been to makes the "accessible" lane also the express lane - so while I'm buying my load of groceries, there's always a disgruntled customer behind me - I've even been denied access for having too many groceries!

The self check out is even worse - in a world where we're now being ushered to interact with these robots instead of real people, I can't reach the screen or the debit machine! So either way I need to ask for help, which completely defeats it's purpose. I would love to see a more accessible option that is lower to the ground.

A second, lower handrail on public stairs is a must! I've seen these in children's hospitals and schools, and would love them to be common place. Average handrails often land at shoulder height or higher - they provide little to no stability or safety for little people.

An access issue that often gets overlooked is the height of public seating - this includes doctor's office chairs, modern theatre seating, bar stools, booths, and office swivel chairs. The irony of a disabled person not being able to sit down is one I come across on the regular. The number of times I've showed up for an interview and not been able to sit without assistance is absurd.

Having a variety of seating options, or providing public step stools (or a combination of the two) could be easy fixes to this issue. In hospitals I am seeing a slow shift towards even lower chairs and beds since this issue is not always unique to little people - anyone who has difficulty bending, sitting, or transferring from a wheelchair has this issue. Modern design needs to account for diversity, instead of steering towards minimalism.

Step stools are of course the easiest means of making public spaces more accessible for little people, but I want to point out that they're not always the be-all-end-all solution, and can actually just be a band aid to some problems. While stools are incredibly versatile, not everyone has the ability to use them and they can pose a hazard in certain situations. In points of high traffic, built-in steps are far safer and could even be designed to fold up when not in use - they can also account for weight and wear.

Additionally, when stools are option in public, it's vital that they be easily accessed and borrowed by patrons without the need for a special request. I've said it before, "If I have to ask for help, it's not accessible". In order for stools to be a viable accommodation, they should be as freely obtained as toilet paper.

[sxfterhearts]

keeho dating a shy bookworm headcannons, i feel like hed be so sweet <33

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ highschool!au - theatre kid!keeho x student librarian!reader ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅

♡ genre/warnings: fluff fluff fluff (i miss writing soft fluff and just writing in general omfg)

♡ word count: 1,171 words

♡ author's note: im crying anon thank you so so much for sending this!! it's my first ever p1h request and it made me so happy :") i'm sorry it took so long (life has been crazy lately) but i really hope this meets your expectations <33333

//

omg this is kinda giving our beloved summer (if you havent watched it, its my fav kdrama ever!!)

ok this might be cliche but i <3 highschool!au so let's roll with it

yoon keeho as a theatre kid (are we surprised) who practices his lines everywhere around school, has friends in every single class and is always being his friendly, extroverted self

y/n as a diligent, reserved student who is also a student librarian - you're usually stacking shelves or scanning books at the library after school on most days

your relationship blossomed through shy glances and soft whispers - keeho used to take note of the days you were on duty and purposely stayed behind to get closer to you

you were in the same english class - and being a theatre nerd, he was quickly intrigued by your ability to not only analyse shakespeare to a tee but also recite the plays word for word, line by line, without missing a single beat

keeho felt his heart speed up whenever he saw you in class, losing yourself in your work. in his eyes, you were always beautiful, but with the sunlight shining through the windows, illuminating your concentrated expression as you muttered to yourself and scribbled in your notebook - he thought that was when you shone the brightest

in the early days of getting to know each other, keeho would disrupt your peaceful reading sessions behind the library reception desk with endless requests of book recommendations earning many shushes from the head librarian

"i really like romance novels... what's your favourite?" hah, very smooth, keeho

you were confused, at first, because why was yoon keeho of all people taking an interest in you?

but then as you got to know him better you realised you shared more in common than you thought. despite your seemingly opposite personality types, the two of you had similar tastes in books, and music, and food, the list goes on

"hey y/n, have you tried the new bakery across the road? they're doing an opening deal - iced americano and a croffle for really cheap. should we try it together tomorrow for breakfast? only if you want to, of course..."

"y/n, have you listened to the new sza album? what's your favourite track? i love all of them, it's so hard to pick..."

"y/n, y/n, do you remember the author i was telling you about last month? they're writing a new book in the series! we should read it together when it's out, i wanna hear your honest review!"

even as a child, you were quiet and mostly preferred to read a book or draw and colour quietly while others played outside. this was both a result of your personality and also a few friendship fallouts that made you more wary (kids can be so mean...)

fast forward to high school, you retreated further into your shell, only keeping a handful of close friends. you preferred to bury your nose in your books and lose yourself in the fictional world of your favourite characters

that is, until keeho came along

the boy was as warm and bright as a summer's day. he had a way about him that just made people feel at ease. perhaps it was because he was so comfortable with being himself, that it helped others open up too

you were no exception. initially you were unsure of what to make of his unexpected friendliness and kindness, but you quickly realised that he was just a genuinely nice person who wanted to get to know you better

and you had to admit - after one too many mornings sitting on the bench overlooking your school field together, munching on your breakfasts and sharing an earbud each, listening to the summer's latest tunes under the gentle morning sun - you wanted to know more about him too

you could feel your cold walls getting dissolved by the warm, toothy smiles he always wore around you, and his melodious laughter

a few weeks into your daily ritual (consisting of breakfast in the morning and doing homework or stacking shelves in the library after school together), keeho finally made the first move

one morning, the two of you were nearly done your with your breakfast croffles when all of a sudden, the cloudy sky turned ominous and lightning flashed before your eyes

before either of you could react, the skies opened up, unleashing heavy raindrops all around you

"quick, y/n!" keeho grabbed your hand and interlaced your fingers with his. the two of you ran to the nearest school building, trudging past wet grass and muddy soil, staining your white school shoes

when you finally made it under the awnings, you both looked down at the state of your uniforms - mildly soaked, and burst out laughing at how ridiculous you looked

naturally, your gaze wandered towards your joined hands, and you slowly looked up, only to find keeho staring at you as if you were the only person in the world

you couldn't read his expression - there was a hidden intensity behind his eyes

he hastily unbuttoned and shrugged off his button-down shirt, leaving him in his white t-shirt, and promptly placed it around your shoulders to keep you warm

"keeho, you'll get cold, i - "

but he cut you off, "i can't help myself anymore, y/n..." it's now or never, he thought to himself

"huh? what do you mean, keeho? i don't - "

"i like you, y/n." he whispered softly, so soft that it nearly blended in with the sound of rain. he stuffed his hands deep into his pockets to stop himself from fidgeting

"what?" you thought you misheard, cos there's no way...

"y/n, i... i like you!" keeho closed his eyes and repeated again, already blushing red, embarrassed

you had an inkling that he was interested in you, but you never allowed yourself to daydream for too long whenever keeho entered your thoughts, for fear that you would only disappoint yourself. but now that you knew his true feelings...

you inched forwards and stood on the balls of your feet. why is he so tall, you thought to yourself as you bravely planted a brief peck against his warm cheeks

keeho's eyes shot open in surprise. it was so quick, his brain failed to process it. "wait, did you just - "

you giggled, eyes crinkling up into the little crescents he adored, and held onto his wrists before leaning in once more

the first meeting of your rain-stained lips was clumsy, as most first kisses are, but the two of you made it up with an eagerness that mirrored your initial desires to learn more about each other

when you both ran out of air, you laughed against each other's lips, basking in the tenderness of a new relationship, blossoming like a flower bud after a bit of sunshine and rain

"so... will you be the juliet to my romeo?"

"they both die, keeho!"

"oh, true... but it's romantic, right?"

[maxybabyy]

It’s barely noon.

Daniel has only been back in Monaco for a handful of hours, burnt out from flying commercial and dressed obnoxiously in bright orange, and still, he’s here.

He pulls up Max’s text one more time and stares sceptically at the building in front of him. But he’s in the right spot, the tiny guy on the map right on top of the address Max had sent.

The lady behind the reception desk looks up when he enters, a polite smile on her lips as she comes forward to greet him, “Bonjour monsieur, comment ca va?”

Daniel’s been here for too long for his French to be as bad as it is, stutters out a, “Ca va bien,” before he switches to English. “Uh, I’m here for my cats?”

“Certainly,” she says, her accent even less pronounced than Charles’. She goes back behind the desk, points out the small bevvy station on her way there. Daniel’s been in formula one for over ten years, has lived in Monaco for most of that, but this fucking cat hotel may still be the fanciest shit he’s been to. “May I ask what cats you are here for?”

Daniel jiggles the handle of the coffeemaker, watches what he hopes is coffee drip into the branded to-go cup. “Uh, Jimmy and Sassy? They’re like, Bengals, with the stripes and shit? If you have two cats that look the same, I reckon it’s probably them,” he says, searches and fails to locate a lid.

The lady coughs, and Daniel decisively doesn’t look at her, cannot – knows she has to be laughing at him. Fucking, disaster step-cat dad that he is; Max would already have them loaded up in the car and be on his way.

“The cats are registered with internal ID numbers, monsieur. I cannot tell you if we have your cats otherwise, my apologies,” she tells him, not unkind.

“Right, yeah. Let me get those for you then,” he says, chuckles. He scrolls back to the cursed message that had started it all, rattles off the IDs for both cats to the lady’s mild surprise.

‘you of course don’t have to, but always the cats like it better when they can be at home.’ He reads back now, wishes he had never ventured into the world of cat sitting and long-term pet boarding.

“I will have someone come out with your cats right away, monsieur Verstappen,” she says, taps away at the computer for a moment before the printer starts to spit out a stack of papers. “If I can just have you sign here, you will be all set.”

Daniel swallows down half of the coffee, scrapes his teeth over his tongue to mask the burn. “’course, I’m not Max, though. Just for filing purposes, I guess.” He says, scribbles his signature on the dotted line. It’s the same fucking signature that he would do on a hat or whatever the fans put in front of him, and it shouldn’t make him feel embarrassed, but it does. “My name’s Daniel. Ricciardo, I should be on the list though.”

The lady smiles, licks her finger to flick a page. “Certainly, monsieur Ricciardo.”

A man in his early twenties comes out, a cat carrier in each arm. He puts the cats on the desk and rattles off a report of their stay these past weeks, the meals they had, how they behaved, their moods.

Daniel tries to listen, makes himself remember enough that Max will be satisfied even if they didn’t also send out an update by mail every three days. The guy doesn’t stop talking, so Daniel nods along, pokes his finger through the grid and watches Sassy swat at it; Jimmy who gives him a polite lick.

Even if their names weren’t printed on the carrier, this would give them away. That at least he knows.

“Great, yeah. Thanks mate,” Daniel says and moves them down to rest by his feet. “Do I need to pay something, or will we get an invoice, or like?”

“Monsieur Verstappen has an account with us, so there is no need for that. He will be notified by mail. But I can offer you a receipt?” She says, and even she sounds unsure about the offer.

“Yeah, that would be good, cheers.”

The printer makes another noise, and one of the cats meows in response, the other quick to echo. She hands it over with a smile, and Daniel stuffs it into his pocket with a quick ‘thanks’ and picks up his cats to leave.

He’s lying on the couch later, Jimmy on his chest and Max’s latest voice message playing over the phone when he finally pulls out the receipt.

“You’re such a fucking spoilt cat, Jims.” He says, kisses his head.

Jimmy meows softly, bumps his chin with his head, so Daniel kisses him again, watches his tail flick in the air.

Yeah, alright, he thinks, maybe they do deserve it.  

[lestappenforever]

My ask is maybe a bit silly, and would probably go in 'sanity check' category. It is about Max, and how he is perceived. If I understand correctly, it is said he is mad max, bad guy, aggressive… and similar. Now, I know teenagers are sometimes a bit crazy, and from what I read he was actually very badly treated by freaking adults, fellow drivers, when he first joined F1, so maybe then he was a bit aggressive, and it would be even understandable… but still it is difficult to even imagine that. Because Max I see (I am only following racing since last year) is nice, soft, funny, polite guy, still more looking like an innocent kid than an adult, even appearing naïve (unlike the sweet, adorable devil that is Charles!), and obviously so nice towards rookies (Oliver and Liam-who himself said it). So am I delusional and see what is not there or for some reason he is so vilified (I guess most coming probably from jealousy and Netflix crap…). Oh and one additional observation, he always looks so much softer and somehow cuddlier and cuter on photos from his streaming at home… What do you think? One final observation, then I will shut up  Sometimes it seems to me that all the Lestappen moments and specila connection maybe come from the fact that when Charles came to F1 Max finally had kinda his person there. Because he went form father abuse to fellow drivers abuse, but when Charles came to F1, he had someone he could have a real relationship with, even if they fought and were a bit sulky almost teenagers still in the beginning, they got over it as they grow up. But Charles is his genuinely healthy, good, fun, friendly relationship. Having spent time as kids growing up of course also deepens the bond and friendship, but also mutual respect and understanding each other’s qualities. I don’t know if explained it well enough… P.S. I LOVE your fics!!!!

Hi anon, and thank you so much for this ask! I don't think it's a silly ask at all.

All these "Mad Max", being too aggressive, being mean claims etc. stem from two things:

1. When Max made it into F1 almost 10(!) years ago, he was 17(!!) years old. He was a kid — a literal child. And he was a cocky, arrogant little shit at that, as any kid would be making their debut in such a prestigious sport at such a young age.

2. Max haters who will hate him forever, no matter what, no matter why. They don't even need a reason; they're just determined to hate him and will do so forever.

But the thing is, and his haters especially seem to love to ignore this fact, Max was seventeen years old when he made his F1 debut. He was, for all intents and purposes, a child. I watched Max make his F1 debut, and I watched and read the way he was viewed and the reception he received from his fellow drivers, the media, and fans alike. And I watched these grown-ass men already on the grid when Max joined welcome him by treating him like shit. These adults were so threatened by this kid who came into the sport without having to go through the same ranks almost every other F1 driver has to go through to get there, such as several years in F3 and F2 (Max only spent a year in F3 and skipped F2 altogether), that they did virtually nothing to make him feel welcome. Quite the opposite, in fact. It was so fucking sad and infuriating, and I lost a lot of respect for many drivers because of it. And if I'm being honest, anon, that's what made me decide Max would be my favorite driver. I can be incredibly spiteful when I want to be, and watching Max get slammed and slandered from so many directions from the very beginning made me want to be very spiteful. That's what made me decide that I was going to support that kid like hell. And I haven’t looked back or regretted it since.

I cannot stress this enough, and I know I've said it so many times before already, but: Max Verstappen was a child when he made it into the world of F1. But he's not a child anymore, which a concerning amount of people seem to be blissfully and willfully ignorant to. Max has grown and matured so much in the years he's been in F1. And, like most other people, Max Verstappen the adult is not the same person as Max Verstappen the teenager, or Max Verstappen the child. And he hasn’t been anything like his 17-year old self in a long, long time. But this, of course, is something his haters will never accept or acknowledge.

I truly believe, from the very bottom of my heart, that Max is always so nice and welcoming towards rookies, always willing to lend a hand or giving them advice, always going out of his way to praise and support them, because practically no one ever did that for him when he was a rookie. And that speaks volumes about his character and the kind of man he has grown into since making his debut.

You're not delusional at all, anon, and having only followed F1 since last year means it's not surprising that you don't see the very outdated and frankly incredibly incorrect persona the people who dislike Max will always keep trying to convince themselves and others is still him. Because it isn’t — not even close. Practically every single person who has worked with or been around Max in the past few years all say the same thing: that he's funny, easy-going, and one of the genuinely kindest people on the grid. And that means a hell of a lot more than the opinions of people who have never and will never know him, and have made it their personal, sad mission to hate him. So you keep holding on to the impression you have of him, anon, because that is a far more accurate representation than the image some people are so hellbent of painting of him. (He’s definitely not naïve, though, not even close.)

And I absolutely agree: he looks even softer and cuddlier when he's streaming at home! I love streamer!Max so much.

"When Charles came to F1 Max finally had kinda his person there". <- You are spot on with this, anon! I've talked about the special bond I think these two share in the past, like in this post, and so have many others. (@tsarinablogs @valyrfia @thearchercore to name a few - highly recommend checking out their blogs if you haven’t already!) It truly seems like they have never, and will never, see any other driver as a big a rival as the other, and the numerous accounts of their karting days from people who got to watch them battle first-hand from such a young age definitely backs up that claim. And I think that's so beautiful, and it's one of the many, many reasons why these two are so dear to me, and why other F1 ships will never be able to come close.

P.S. That makes me so happy to hear, anon, thank you so, so much. 🥹❤️

[wardenparker]

The King's Queen - chapter 7

Javi Gutierrez x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

Prince Javier of the Balearic Islands has always known that one day he would have to follow in his father's footsteps to be the caring and steadfast king that his people deserve. What he did not know is that he would be stepping into the next phase of his life alongside a woman he has never met before - and amidst a rocky sea of unusual circumstances of every kind.

Rating: Mature, but this blog is always 18+ Word Count: 13.2k Warnings: *Blanket warnings for this series: arranged marriage, age gap, classicism, cursing, food and alcohol, mentions of American politics, deceased parents* Mentions of a funeral, shitty parents/family, coping with shitty family, SO much fluff and flirting. A slightly sexy moment with someone unexpected. Summary: Javi has a gift for you on the morning of your crowning, and an idea for an even greater gift that night. But of course, an otherwise beautiful day has to be spoiled by your demanding family. Notes: The sisterhood between Daisy, Maisie, and Gabriela is everything to me 🧡

Ch 1 ~ Ch 2 ~ Ch 3 ~ Ch 4 ~ Ch 5 ~ Ch 6

"Your majesty." Javi nearly sighs as someone else calls for his attention as he walks to the office. No wonder his father was sometimes abrupt when walking around the palace. He has felt like he was being pulled in several different directions, everyone offering their heartfelt condolences on losing the king. He turns to see one of the staff rushing towards him, an apologetic expression on her face.

"A message, your Majesty." The young palace page has a card on a silver tray that she holds out to the king, trembling nerves written on her face for having to actually speak directly to the new monarch. It is early in the morning and when he was the prince, King Javier did not have a reputation for being a morning person whatsoever. The only solace is that it is your brother's already familiar handwriting on the face of the card.

"Thank you, Constanza." He takes the note and flips it open to read it, smiling slightly at the strong, sharp writing and even more at the meaning of the words. The woman is still waiting, hovering at his elbow and obviously ready to take his answer back to the personal assistant to the Princess. "Sí." He nods. "Tell him yes. I will."

"Yes, your Majesty." She is off again like a shot, ready to convey the simple but seemingly all-important message, and barely manages to not collide with the king's personal assistant as he comes around a corner from the hallway. Julius has spent his morning running back and forth to make sure the king's needs will be taken care of this morning and is finally ready to report that things are on track appropriately. There had been a misunderstanding with the setup for the crowning that simply would not do. "Your Majesty," he manages to get the king's attention easily and moves toward him with purpose. "All is well. Everything will be ready in less than an hour, just as needed."

Javi nods, "We have the film crew discreetly placed?" He had only allowed the royal film crew to be present at the actual crowning in the gardens, his need for tightened security growing after news of the king's murder. The video would be streamed to all the public stations to broadcast to the country and world.

"They have been stationed where they will have three good angles, but not intrude on the ceremony in any way," Julius assures him. It will not be the grand, over-the-top event that some crownings have been, but the morning ceremony followed by an intimate reception in the garden will give the members of court a chance to meet their new Crowned Princess properly. Last night's state funeral was not an appropriate moment for such introductions.

"Good." He sighs softly, the weight of his father's funeral still bearing down on him, although it had been a beautiful state ceremony. Most of the country had turned out to pay their respects.

"For your lapel, sire." In his hand, Julius has a boutonniere just like the ones he had pinned to the previous king's formalwear many dozens of times over. The choice to have the country's national flower feature prominently in the decorations for the event today was a wise one and the small pink and white flowers of the almond tree will look beautiful against the king's black suit jacket. "And try to remember to breathe."

“I can’t make many promises.” Javi admits with a short laugh. “I have never been so worried about things going wrong in my entire life.”

"There is very little that is within your immediate control today, sire." His assistant advises him, fastening the flowers to the lapel of his suit carefully. "The princess has far more to be concerned about in terms of ceremony. As long as you can place the tiara on her head and bow, you will be just fine. The words to be spoken will be said by the archbishop and you will merely repeat them."

He knows that. It’s more that he’s nervous for you. Holding you extra close this morning and kissing you tenderly before having to let you go get ready for the moment you will become the Crowned Princess of Mallorca. “I wish for the Princess to enchant our people the way she has enchanted me.”

"I do not doubt it for a moment." Most of the palace staff is already enamored with the American princess, and those that are not are mostly stubborn about you being American or else they are loyal to the Count of Ibiza. "But for your own sanity, I have moved your meeting with the ministers to tomorrow morning." Taking his job very seriously is part of what Julius does best, and he had noted that the Senator and his wife are amongst the listed guests for the event today so he had sought to provide some small solace for the king. An afternoon with fewer commitments is no small feat.

“You are wonderful.” Javi groans quietly. “I understand our evening meal will include the Senator and his wife as well?” You had pouted slightly about that, but he had told you that if you didn’t wish to have dinner with your father, there were many ways to cancel that.

"They did arrive in time for the ceremony this morning, sí. And will therefore be present for photographs this afternoon and at dinner tonight." With the flowers pinned perfectly in place, Julius fusses momentarily with the placement of the king's pocket square before stepping back in satisfaction. "The Senator is reportedly quite pleased with his accommodation, and in a particularly good mood." This was, of course, according to Sebastian. Who would know his own father's mood better than most.

“Good.” At least the trip is starting off on the right foot. “Please make sure that the Senator is well attended to.”

"Of course, your Majesty." Julius nods, having planned on doing so anyway. "I believe..." he clears his throat quietly. "If one wished to see the princess privately before the ceremony, one might find her in the greenhouse."

“Thank you, Julius.” Javi bites his lip for a mere moment before he is turning and striding towards the doors that would take him to you. Eager to see you and calm any last moment jitters, yours and his own.

******

Pacing the greenhouse was the very best place you could think of to get away. Sebastian and Flores had been an expert team at keeping your father, stepmother, and sister busy all morning after breakfast and you had deflected by closing yourself in your suite with the dressmaker who carefully buttoned and fastened you into your ceremony dress. She assured you the myriad of fastenings would make sure the lines of the cream-colored lace tea dress stayed true in all the photography that would be necessary today, you had simply nodded your consent and stood still until she was finished. Now, as time for the ceremony rapidly approaches, you nervously pace through the fruit trees and beautiful blossoms of the palace greenhouse wishing that Javi was near.

Javi strides towards the little greenhouse, the purpose of the stone cottage changing over the years to where now it was more of a little tea house. His mother had changed it during her time as queen. He sees movement in the glass and wonders if you are pacing nervously. Walking up to the door and knocking since you were not expecting him.

The sound makes you jump, heartbeat pounding in your throat as you wonder if you’ve been caught by some member of the court — or press — or worse, if your father found you. But through the trees you see curly hair and broad shoulders at the greenhouse door and you sigh audibly. “Javi.” It doesn’t matter that no one can hear you, seeing him is a balm over your anxious soul and you move across the open room quickly to unlock the door and let him in.

"Margarita." You are stunning. The tea length dress is formal, but not too formal. The daytime coronation is one that the ladies on your staff and his own advisors thought should be less formal than some of the other monarchies' pomp and circumstance. "You look....stunning."

“Do you like it?” The dress had been agonized over, and though you love it, you are relieved to see that he does too. You are even more relieved to see him, though, and instantly sink into his embrace while being careful not to muss his suit. “You look like a dream, querido.”

"I love it, amor." He assures you with a soft smile when he pulls away. "You look like a princess, my princess."

As jittery with nerves as you are, breathing him in centers you in a way that you can’t describe. “I want to make you proud today,” you murmur, smiling reflexively when his own beaming expression washes over you. “The rest…the cameras, the guests…everyone watching? As long as you’re proud of me I know it will all be fine.”

"I am already proud of you, margarita." He promises, reaching up carefully to caress your cheek without smudging your carefully done makeup. "You were my rock yesterday when we had my father's funeral. You have been my safe harbor in the storm since your arrival."

“Thank you for letting me stand by you.” As deeply as you already feel for each other, he still might have easily decided that he wanted to stand alone at these events or that love did not immediately equate to trust — and you could not have blamed him for thinking either of those things. As it is, you’re grateful that he embraced you as a partner immediately. “And you did wonderfully yesterday.” The funeral was dignified, with a beautiful service and many meaningful tributes. Javi had stood tall for everything, always stalwart despite the crushing sadness of losing his father.

"I want to celebrate with you tonight." He's been spending a lot of time thinking about love and grief and the next steps he wishes to take. He cannot let his entire life be ruled by his job, or the loss of his father. His need to let his desires grow has been something he wants to discuss with you.

“What did you have in mind?” Thinking of something relatively simple like dessert on the balcony or taking a drive to the cliffs, you are ready to agree without hesitation.

"I—" He takes a deep breath, knowing that even if you are not ready, you will not chastise him or think badly. "I want to make love to you tonight." He admits quietly. "Celebrate that we are alive."

“I—” The lump in your throat is not nerves now but the touching sweetness of the man in front of you, and you feel the soft smile on your face blossom easily. “Mi amor, if you are ready, I am ready. I promise you.”

"I'm ready." He squeezes your waist. "If– there's no use in wondering what might have been." He decides after a moment. "We can only focus on what our future will be."

“Our future will be what we make it.” You wish you could kiss him now, but the makeup artist that came in to complete your look this morning was exacting. “Come to my room tonight like you always do, querido. We will let things happen naturally.”

"I love you." He murmurs quietly. "You are the queen I have chosen." It's important for you to know that he chooses you. That he will choose you every day.

“And I love you.” With his forehead pressed to yours, a wave of calm washes over you and allows you to smile widely. “More than I ever thought possible.”

"Then we will make sure that our people know that we share a deep love." He vows softly.

“I think that all they will need is to see how we look at each other,” you observe with quiet amusement. “My brother said that we looked like a fairy tale when he saw us before breakfast yesterday.”

"I think your brother is paid to find the positive in everything." Javi jokes. "Especially from the stories he was telling me about working with your father."

“He is an excellent person to have around when you need cheering up.” You can attest to that completely. “But he also knows me. And he knows how happy I am with you.”

"We had a talk yesterday afternoon." Javi tells you, not sure if Seb had. "It was very good."

“He didn’t mention it.” He must have decided that it was personal, or that you didn’t need your head full of extra things rattling around with the funeral that day. “But I’m glad you’re getting along.”

"It's standard practice for anyone who is coming to work on the staff to have a meeting with the king." He explains.

“I can take some of those meetings on for you after we’re married,” you offer immediately, knowing that he has more than enough to keep him busy. “To lighten your load a little.”

"I appreciate that, but I enjoyed meeting with him." He admits. "Especially since you so obviously adore him."

“He’s the second best guy in the world and whatever girl finally gets him to settle down is going to be the second luckiest woman in the world.” Second, of course, because you count yourself luckiest for having Javi.

Javi smiles, obviously getting the point behind your comment. "I will endeavor to make sure that your feelings about that never change." He promises, taking your hand and kissing the back of it gently.

“I don’t think you’ll have to work very hard.” The warmth in your cheeks that flashes through your whole body is proof enough of that, and you smile again. “How much time do we have?”

"Twenty minutes." Javi glances at the small, elegant clock that is sitting on the table. "Are you ready, my love?"

“As ready as I think I will ever be.” The crowds have been assembling in the rose garden for a half hour already, and you exhale deeply to steady yourself. “But you’ll be there with me, so I will be just fine.”

"Right beside you." He will already be wearing his own crown, but he smiles at the thought of sharing this momentous occasion with you. "I'll never let you do this alone."

“We will be each others’ rocks.” While you know that you came here to be his, it fills you with a sense of warmth and rightness to know that he wants to be yours.

"I have something for you." He gives you a small smile as he pulls a square of fabric from his pocket. "My mother–she adored the idea of you being my queen." That was an understatement, since it was because of her insistence that the contract was struck between her college friend and the crown. "She had these made for you. I–they were in father's things."

“What a—?” Your confusion dies when he presses the soft squares of linen into your hand, and you can not only see but feel what they are. Beautifully stitched with scalloped edging and subtle colors, the pastel handkerchiefs were obviously made by hand and lovingly attended to. The cream colored square has a butterfly stitched into the fabric, the mist blue has the outline of a dove, the dusty pink has the beautiful form of a stitched roses in the corner, and the golden yellow handkerchief has your initials in a monogram that includes the prominent letter ‘G’ for Gutierrez. While you immediately decide to carry the cream handkerchief today, you hold the yellow one up for Javi to inspect. “I’m going to save this one for our wedding,” you tell him with a waiver of awe in your voice. “Your mamá was planning ahead.”

"She was a woman who enjoyed planning." Javi admits with a smile. He's proud that you seem to love the handkerchief, even more so that you would carry one on your wedding day to him. It will be like having a piece of his mother there.

“The more I learn about her, the more I see how remarkable she was. Our mothers were alike in that way.”

"It is too bad that we could not have met them." He murmurs quietly. "I would have loved to see them together."

“If we are lucky maybe we will have two daughters just like them.” The smile you flash at him is broad and genuine, and you cup his cheek with one hand. “Or one little girl with both of their names, even.”

"I think that would be a good tribute to them." Javi hums dreamily, smiling at the thought of such a future. "A continuation of their legacy."

“It will be something to think about in the future.” Your thumb graces his cheek, smoothing over his warm skin. “And I am so glad to be able to plan my future with you.”

"Have they contacted Seb about the investigation?" He doesn't know if your brother would bother you with it today, but he's curious.

“Yes.” It is a lot to handle and to be coordinated, but you don’t want to put it off. It’s far too important. “I’m meeting with the investigators tomorrow after breakfast.”

Nodding seriously, Javi sighs. "I wish I could be there with you, but it would be best if we talk to the investigators separately. So it doesn't seem like we are conspiring."

“We would probably be best not to speak of it at all in private,” you admit, even though you know it will be hard. But being able to honestly say that there has been no discussion whatsoever is essential.

"You are probably right." Javi admits, squeezing your hand and sighing. "We will be cleared quickly and then we can talk."

“We’ll be just fine.” The best either of you has right now is the hope that this will all be over quickly and that the culprit will be caught. And you’re going to hang onto it like a lifeline.

“I know we will.” Of that Javier is certain, it wasn’t him, and he knows it wasn’t you.

“Chin up, mi amor.” It is becoming abundantly obvious that resisting him is not something you are good at, and you nudge your nose against his to keep yourself from kissing him and smudging your makeup. “Today, at least, will be happy.”

“Yes it will.” He hums softly. “You will be wonderful.”

“I hope so.” Glancing past him and out the windows, you can see Sebastian and Julius walking toward the greenhouse together and you sigh. “I think we are about to be summoned, mi amor.”

“The ceremony won’t be long and then the reception will be for you. A social engagement.” He smiles and nudges your nose with his. “Cocktails allowed.”

"And I will nurse those one or two cocktails longer than any other drink in my life." Being very well aware of your own tolerance, and having approved the menu for the day yourself, you know that you're not eating heavily at this event so you shouldn't drink heavily either. But then...as a royal? You'll never be drinking heavily where you can be observed ever again.

“Absolutely.” As a new king, he completely understands why you would have that outlook. “And I will be with you, and after..” he smiles. “We can have another few cocktails while we relax in our private rooms.”

"We've developed quite the routine," you hum, the softness and affection in your eyes completely obvious, thinking of those nights with Javi out on your balcony. "I like it."

“I’ve enjoyed it as well, but I was thinking…” he leans in right as there’s a discreet knock on the door. “We could use that tub tonight.”

Your eyes widen to an almost comical degree at the suggestion, and your mouth is nearly unhinged when Julius and Sebastian step into the greenhouse looking dapper and official. "Forgive the intrusion, your Majesty, but it is almost time to— your Highness, is everything alright?" Julius looks concerned immediately but Sebastian is doing very well to hide a smirk behind the older man.

“Everything is perfect, Julius.” Javi assures his assistant. “The princess was just surprised by a suggestion I had.”

I'll bet she was, Sebastian thinks as loud as humanly possible as he hands you the soft lace gloves that you will wear during the ceremony and reception today. "Flores is already standing by with pins so the tiara can be secured to your hair after the ceremony is over." He promises you.

"Thank you, Seb." Possibly the most difficult part of this whole thing is not the oath you will take or the ceremony itself, but the fact that you will have to balance that priceless tiara on your head for a full twenty minutes without it being secured in any way. Thank goodness your father was one of those people who still insisted on you learning good posture with a book on your head.

Javi smiles at the obvious affection between the two siblings in front of him. He had always wished for a sibling to share secrets and experiences with. It might be one reason why he had tolerated Lucas's presence.

“We should get the two of you into place,” Julius urges, although he has to admit that he is loath to let you at times like this. You had obviously been having an intimate moment.

“Of course.” Javi nods and squeezes your hand encouragingly. “Today we crown a Princess, one that will be beloved by her people and the world.”

“Let’s not get carried away.” You tease, even though your cheeks are warm from affection and bashful from the compliment. Squeezing Javi’s hand one more time, you put your gloves on and nod to the three men around you. “Alright. It’s showtime.”

Javi lets you walk out of the little greenhouse ahead of him, nodding to Sebastian and Julius before he follows you out into the gardens where music will be piped in through hidden speakers.

The staff had outdone themselves. The traditional gardens, with neat manicured bushes and flowering plants, look radiant with the changes they had made for the ceremony. Flowers had been trucked in from local florists. Red, yellow, blue, and white blooms, all the colors of the flag, arrange in pots that mark the path towards the center. A recreation of the flag in flowers is displayed on the raised bed, the perfect backdrop for photos when you are crowned. Even though it is daylight, the lights that are strung in the bushes, providing a festive celebration of the crown. Javi beams in pride as he walks behind you.

The string quartet that has been brought from the Royal College of Fine Arts is set in a portion of the garden and mic'd, their stunning rendition of the national anthem playing through the speakers that have been hidden amongst the bushes and decor. The rose garden looks stunning, and in the center of all are about a hundred and fifty guests surrounding the platform where the Archbishop of Palma stands beside a beautifully ornate antique Savonarola chair that you recognize from the photographs of Javi’s mother’s crowning. The Throne of the Princess of Mallorca may technically be small but its symbolism is enormous.

Javier knows how intimidating this can seem, having undergone his own coronation when he was of age in a traditional ceremony. He had been so scared he almost threw up.

The carefully curated path through the rose garden has been scattered with petals and every step you take brings perfume to the air. With Javi walking at your side – his hand holding yours up in front of the both of you and wearing a splendid suit with you in a white dress – it feels like a very deliberate rehearsal for the wedding that will follow in a few months' time. There is nothing accidental about the choice to put you in white, of course. It is the color of hope for the people of these islands, worn by kings and queens past as beacons of the future. Guides through dark times. Here, it is not brides who wear white to symbolize their purity, but leaders who wear white to symbolize their good intentions. It was why you wore that white day dress for your arrival to the country, if you are completely honest with yourself. And now, it is why you wear white before the eyes of the entire nation. To promise them that you have every intention of giving them hope, and that you have nothing but good intentions for their future.

Javier stands next to the archbishop and turns to face you, his own crown set on his head before he had walked out into the garden. Looking every bit a strong and confident king like his father had hoped for.

The longest part of this ceremony will be the archbishop’s speech. He begins with words of welcome as Javi moves slowly, gracefully, in a circle as you practiced and stops beside your throne to sit you down comfortably. Between guests and staff there are over two hundred people watching your every move in person and hundreds of thousands if not millions more on television — the sensation of needing to be sick is definitely one that Javi has warned you about but it’s stronger now than you ever thought possible.

Javier's heart pounds, both because he is nervous for you and because he's sad that his father didn't get to witness this. He knows the king would have approved of the elegance in your movements, looking like you have settled on this throne a thousand times before. His steps take him to stand beside you and he wishes he could hold your hand right now, but he cannot.

It will not be a full service of any kind, thankfully. Otherwise this ceremony would take place in one of the nation’s many churches. But the archbishop begins speaking immediately in his all-important tone, preaching to the assembled crowd and cameras as well as to you about duty, responsibility, and the importance of hope. Javi reminds himself that he’s not a child, he cannot look around in boredom. Or stare at you as the other two hundred people are doing. You are beautiful, regal. You are the Princess and future queen that his people deserve and today is the beginning of that legacy.

The guests assembled in the garden are inspecting you. You know they are. But that is part of what you are here for — to be seen and judged by the very people that you are wearing to serve. The thought had terrified you right until the second Javi stepped up to the small dais beside you, coming right back to your side. He makes the chaos of the world quiet around you. The strength of his broad frame at your side makes you feel invincible and the fact that he believes you can do this makes all the difference in the world.

The ceremony is beautiful, the words spoken by the archbishop ring out clear and true. Making Javi nod when he speaks of duty to the people. Listening to the words with a clarity and care he had never had before.

When the archbishop steps back from your other side where he had been giving his advice and instruction, he is also making room for Javi to come forward. The king, already wearing his crown, will be the one to take the selected tiara from its cushion and set it on your head. If this ceremony had happened even one week ago it would have been his father to elevate you in this way, but you will not let the moment be melancholy. This is, the way it is happening now, a monumental occasion. Javi is choosing you this morning — for himself and for his country — and you are grateful for it.

Javi lifts the tiara, holding it in his hand for a moment as he looks you in the eye. A small, subtle wink is flashed at you as he lifts the crown up to place on your head with dignity.

It has the perfect effect: making the smile on your face broad and sweet when the heavy bejeweled tiara is set into your carefully styled hair. The first moment of your life as a Crowned Princess is smiling up at the man you love, ready to take your place at his side. The flash of cameras is everywhere but you hardly notice, straightening your back and raising your head up to your full height on the small throne that is now your own. You look almost angelic, making Javier know that this moment will be the one that he wants made for you. Hoping that the sculptor will capture it. He knows it will be a moment he wants to cherish forever.

What is supposed to be a solemn moment of accepting one’s duty changes very quickly, and you swear you hear the applause begin very nearby but it crashes over the assembled guests like a great ocean wave. Instinct should always be trusted though — because when you glance to your left, Maisie is smirking in a very self-satisfied way from her seat in the front row.

"Your Royal Highness." Javier smiles at you, watching as you execute a perfect curtsey to him and he gives you a formal bow in return. Then he can take your hand and press a kiss to the back of it.

“Your Majesty.” It is not customary for you to give a speech, thank goodness, because right now you’re sure you would faint or stumble or forget every word. Instead you accept the larger leatherbound volume that is being offered to you by the Archbishop — a printing of the laws and rules of Balearica that symbolizes your agreement to uphold them with honor — and you begin the long walk back to the greenhouse where Flores is waiting with hair pins and hopefully encouragement. Javi will follow you. The only time in his reign as king that he will ever walk behind another member of the court.

Your dress is beautiful and you walk with such grace that Javier beams with pride. As soon as you are around the topiaries, he is rushing forward to take your hand. “You were perfect, margarita.”

“Really? I swear I was shaking the entire time.” As much as you want to dive forward into his arms, you only reach out to squeeze his hands and stand perfectly still as Flores attacks your hair with the fist full of pins necessary to secure the tiara. You will now wear one to each and every formal occasion thrown by the palace or royal family and it’s going to take some getting used to.

“You were beaming.” He promises. “Glowing with pride for your station.”

“I am proud.” You can promise him that, just like you can promise him that you love him. They are both deeply true, but the mood is light so you can afford to joke. “And I am also proud that I managed to walk back here without the tiara falling out of place.”

“You were as regal as any princess and queen that have come before you.” He assures you, guiding you into the greenhouse. It will be just a moment before you are needed back out in the gardens, but there was time built into the schedule for a moment to breathe.

Once inside, pins in place and away from the eyes of the court, you pull Javi to you without hesitation. He is what is grounding you today, nothing else. “Te amo.” Even whispered, the words ring clear and true, and you soften under his proud gaze.

“Te amo, mi amor.” Javi wants to kiss you, but he knows that your lipstick is going to transfer. “My queen.”

“Your Majesty.” The voice behind Javi belongs to Julius, but you can tell even without looking that he is smiling. “Your Royal Highness. Very well done. You will be expected at the reception momentarily.”

“Of course.” Even as he answers Julius, he is staring at you. “We will be right out.” He assures his man. “But for now, I need a moment alone with the Princess.”

“Of course, your Majesty.” It is oddly reassuring to see the young king so enraptured by his princess, and Julius blocks Sebastian from entering the greenhouse with a firm but kind hand on his arm. “Give them a moment,” he advises with a smile.

“I have to admit that I wish that we could skip the reception.” Javi admits, leaning in and kissing your cheek, his lips grazing your ear. “I think you should wear the tiara to bed tonight.”

“Javi!” With breathless disbelief in your voice, the shiver that rolls down your spine is delicious. “I promise to choose something very easy to remove when I change after the reception.” This dress will be moved into a special closet of items worn for ‘historic’ events and probably not be taken out again for quite some time.

For the first time since his father has passed, his gaze is more lecherous than loving and he smirks. “It’s good to be the king.”

“I think it’s probably good that I can’t kiss you right now,” you murmur, surprised but not at all upset to see this side of the man you’ve fallen for. “We might not stop.”

“It is a very good thing, mi corazón.” Javi chuckles, leaning in and kissing your cheek again, letting his lips linger. “Later.”

So this is the playboy prince, you think with a grin, reflecting for just a split second how easily his charm comes when he is not burdened with grief. You saw it the first day you were here and seeing it again now is just a confirmation. And you certainly can't fault any of the women who came before you for their good taste. "I think you might be a tease, mi amor. Let's see how long you keep whispering in my ear at this reception and perhaps you will prove me correct."

“I will whisper in your ear all night.” He promises with a wink as he steps back. He’s aware that he has an obligation, as do you. Indulgences can come later.

Apparently the biggest challenge of the day just became keeping a straight face while your fiancé murmurs – possibly dirty – sweet nothings in your ear, and that sounds like exactly the kind of challenge that you are up for. You let him wrap your hand around his arm to lead you back out to the party and arrange your face into something approaching serene instead of your honest expression of eager anticipation. You are very much looking forward to tonight already.

You are never a step away from him. Javi makes sure of it as you begin to make the rounds. This is your introduction and it is only right that it be by his side. His hand settles on the small of your back as he talks, introducing you to those you have not been acquainted with while constantly looking over at you in both awe and reassurance.

There are as many members of court as there seem to be stars in the night sky, and you really are doing your best. But by the time you are able to take a deep breath and have a sip of the drink that you have been carrying so as to politely avoid any attempts at shaking hands or other embraces, the warm cup of tea has turned cold. Thankfully you could not possibly care less, because Javi is still right by your side and the moment to breathe is well appreciated.

“Do you wish for a flute of champagne? “His question is soft, noticing that your tea has gone cold. You have been wonderfully approachable, holding conversations with everyone who wished to speak with you.

"I suppose it's appropriate." He's being very doting and sweet, and you have to admit that you're basically a puddle on his arm at this point. "Since we're celebrating."

“We will have our own celebration later.” Javi reminds you, leaning in to whisper enticingly. “Perhaps we should have a bottle sent to your room?”

“We could certainly do that.” When he puts the glass in your hands it takes all the strength you have in that moment not to react to the enticing spark of his fingers caressing yours. Even for such a small touch, it takes over your entire body. “Our private little treat?”

“With some strawberries.” He hums. “Strawberries enhance the flavor of champagne.”

You have to smirk to yourself a little, because he seems to be approaching the idea of tonight very romantically, but your filthy mind had already conjured up the image of Javi drinking that champagne off of you, not from a glass. “Whatever you wish, querido.”

He catches the small smirk and the physical portion of his attraction and love for you takes over, making him twitch in his pants. “I believe we should both be satisfied, my love.”

“And I have absolutely no doubt that we both will be.” There is heat in his eyes, and probably in yours too, but this would be a very improper time for that to be shown to anyone but each other. “I have a feeling we might be speeding through dinner tonight,” you hum, amused at the thought of it.

“I’m ravenous.” Javi hums. “But not for food.”

“You’re going to be the death of me.” Being only the vaguest of chastisement, it’s really more about the fact that Javi had a lot more practice keeping his poker face on at very important events than you do. You have never needed to not look horny in front of a few hundred people before. Looks like you’re going to learn.

He knows that it's not proper to tease you at your first formal function so he decides to dial it back a bit. Knowing that you will be meeting a lot of important people. "Only after a lifetime, my love."

******

There really has been no peace today, and through meetings and everything else the only thing that has kept your mind clear is looking forward to seeing Javi in private again. It’s the only thing keeping you sane while you sit in formation on a set of carefully arranged chairs in the conservatory of the palace with you father, stepmother, brother, and younger sister being photographed for innumerable royal press releases.

“You there.” Your father snaps his fingers at Julius. “Make sure my office gets copies of these.” He commands, eager to have his own press release again, to remind his constituents what he brings to the table during the election cycle coming up.

“Julius doesn’t take orders from anyone besides the king, Dad.” You murmur, keeping your polite smile plastered to your face and managing an apologetic expression in the direction of your fiancé’s assistant. It isn’t strictly true, since Julius frequently takes direction from you, but he certainly does not take it from your father. “I’ll have Seb send them to your office when they’re ready.” Even though your brother is right there a few feet away, you’re not about to turn and give him orders right now.

Frowning, there’s a disapproving sound from your father, but he doesn’t protest further, getting his way is all that matters. Giving a terse nod and then turning back towards the cameras.

"When do I get my tiara, Mommy?" Though she's smiling as she's been taught to do, your younger half-sister's voice is full of a pout.

"Princesses normally receive their first tiara when they are thirteen." Javier explains quietly, looking towards you and tilting his head in question at the girl's question. "That is our custom here."

“So next year!” Michelle bounces in place, her eyes turning to her mother expectantly. She knows she’ll be scolded for moving during photographs but she wants that tiara more than she wants to sit still. “Next year I get to be a princess too?”

Gently clearing his throat, Sebastian steps forward. Figuring that he would be the one to break the news to the half sister you share. "Unfortunately, that's not how princesses happen in this country, honey." He kneels down and pats her knee. "You either have to be born a princess or marry a prince, just like the movies."

Unfortunately for everyone present, the preteen’s reaction is instant. Her chin starts to wobble and water springs to her eyes, and she turns on the pout that makes her mother cave to every single whim. Very few people ever tell her no successfully. “But…” she looks down at Sebastian and back up at her mother. “We’re supposed to share.” It’s infuriating when Michelle plays the ‘little girl’ card because she’s actually quite clever. Being clever and spoiled has made her greedy and manipulative, though, and you can’t believe you didn’t anticipate this. Of course she’s whining about wanting all the attention you’ve gotten today. God forbid the middle child get anything nice. “Sharing is important, Michelle.” You give a subtle signal to the photographer to pause for a moment and turn toward your little sister. “But there’s more to being a princess than wearing a tiara. And I know you wouldn’t want to give up spending time with your friends and riding your horse to move across an ocean and become a princess just for the tiara.”

"But...." Her eyes narrow in calculation as she weighs the need for a pretty tiara against her passions. "I could bring my horse and my friends here and still get a tiara." She decides after a moment, working out the logistics in her mind in a typical, simplistic fastion of a pre-teen.

“That still isn’t quite how it works, Chelle.” You can feel Javi and Julius and everyone else in the room watching this exchange, but the only thing it does is to show how fundamentally ignored your situation was while growing up. Michelle has known for her entire life that one day you would leave the US and marry a prince. But still no one thought to explain it thoroughly. All she’s ever known is that one day everything of yours would be hers — so it makes perfect sense that she assumes that will include your title and new life.

“I hate this!” She literally stomps her foot and crosses her arms. “I want to be a princess!”

“I think that’s enough photographs for now.” Julius murmurs to the press, not wanting notebooks or recorders to come out.

Your father, sensing that this would be a bad look for the American family of the future queen, leans over and whispers in Michelle's ear for a moment. As if by magic, her face clears and she uncrosses her arms.

“Her Royal Highness and her father will be available for more photographs in the library in ten minutes.” Ushering the press from the room, Julius gives you a barely perceptible nod.

"Surely something can be done." Your stepmother offers Javi a politician's smile, just as concerned with optics as her husband, but her own daughter. "There must be some formal title for members of the family."

“That isn’t how it works.” With the press cleared from the room, you watch Julius shut the door behind himself before turning back to your stepmother and half-sister with as much patience as you can muster. “Dad’s title is Senator. Yours is Señora. Michelle is Señorita Michelle. That’s as formal as it gets unless you plan on becoming Balaerican citizens and earning a noble title through good work for the people of this country.” The fact that they barged in and started demanding special treatment like ugly Americans isn’t even what surprises you. What surprises you is that now they’re encouraging Michelle to do it, too.

"I think we are a little bit more than normal family." She tells you, keeping her polite smile as she cuts her eyes to her husband.

"Dear, I don't think that it is what we should be discussing right now." Your father decides that tact would be the better part of valor right now. "She is not married yet, she can only suggest change at this point. Wait until she is the queen. It will be far more useful then."

“Excuse me?” When the only people in the room besides your family are Javi and two footmen, you are much less self-conscious about raising your voice to your father than you might have been otherwise. The idea that you will be useful to them in any way is atrocious and you stand from the sofa immediately. “Please tell me that I misheard you just now.”

Your father frowns at you, surprised that you have any complaint about what he said. "What do you mean?" He demands. "What was there to mishear?"

“I am hoping that I didn’t just hear you say that you intend to abuse my position as queen for personal gain.” You aren’t stupid. There’s no way you think that this arrangement — your betrothal — wasn’t agreed to for the prestige. You aren’t blind enough to think your father hasn’t been drafting press releases and planning to work his way into something diplomatic by riding your coattails. But you honestly hadn’t gone so far as to think that they would expect you to perform political favors. So maybe you’re a little stupid after all. Or at least overly idealistic.

"Has my time in Washington taught you nothing?" He asks, shaking his head in disappointment. "It's about connections and I happen to have a connection to the throne." He scoffs. "I would be a fool to not expect to be able to speak to the movers and shakers here."

“Speak? Sure.” You can feel your eyes roll back so far in your head that they threaten to go a full three hundred and sixty degrees. “But you don’t get to waltz in and give orders to Javi’s staff and presume on noble titles just because we’re related. That isn’t how this works.”

While he senses that you are not going to be open to dialogue right now, your father decides that it is best to pull back on the conversation. "Of course not." He shakes his head. "It was tactless and presumptuous of them." He motions towards your stepmother and half-sister. "Excitement."

“Does that apology go for you, too?” Considering he was the one who started snapping at Julius like a misbehaving dog, your exasperation is very real at this point.

He tilts his head in contemplation as he wonders why you are pushing back against him. He opens his mouth to ask that question but instead offers a 'sincere' smile. "Of course it does, pumpkin." He offers. "I apologize. Thoughtless because of the jetlag."

That smile is practiced. It is perfectly executed and usually reserved for people he considers — privately — deeply beneath him. The fact that he’s using it on you is unsettling to say the least. “We have pictures to take in the library.” Is what you say instead, before turning to Javi and pressing a kiss to his cheek. “I know you have a meeting, mi amor. I promise we will all behave ourselves until dinner.”

Javier can see the worry and upset in your eyes and he wishes to pull you away to talk to you. Right now is not the time and he makes a note to tell Julius to have Sebastian to check on you and let him know how you really are. "Of course, mi amor."

“I will see you for dinner.” A quick squeeze of his hand and you are turning back to your family with a serious expression fixed back on your face. “Sebby, I think our stepmother and sister would like to see the palace grounds before dinner, don’t you?”

"Would you like to see the royal stables?" He asks Michelle, knowing that will peak her interests. "I'm sure that we could arrange some riding while you are here."

When your bonafide horse girl little sister shrieks with joy at that suggestion, you know that at least things will be okay on that front. Your brother leads them away to change into riding gear and head down to the stables, and you nod to your father. “The library is this way.”

"It seems that our decision was good for you." He offers as he extends his arm for you to take. "The King seems to be very warm to your presence and you to him."

There is a moment of reluctance, of hesitation before you take your father’s arm, but eventually you decide to have less fuss and accept the gesture to walk along the hall. “It turns out that Javi and I have a lot in common.” Not because of the endless poking and prodding to make sure you watched the movies and read the books that the prince liked. Not because of that. But because of who you are fundamentally as people.

"Then we have done well." He hums, extremely pleased. A happy king is an accommodating one and he can see this as being very lucrative to his career. Perhaps he will become an Ambassador here. It would be fortuitous and sometimes ambassadors have more discretion to make policies than senators at times.

That isn’t necessarily how you would put it, since one of the things you have in common with Javi is demanding fathers who didn’t really take the time to get to know you. So for now you just hum and politely nod to the few people who stop to pay their respects to you in the hallway as you walk. “It could just as easily have gone badly,” you remind him quietly.

"Except that it hasn't." He doesn't like that you are focusing on the what could have beens instead of the what ares. You have a tendency to do that. He does like the measure of respect that you are being shown, and in turn, he is being shown.

“Through no measure of coercion, or play acting, or ulterior motives.” Up ahead, the door to the library is already open and the press are waiting inside. “I love him. It’s as simple as that.”

He's not quite sure how you have come to love a man you have only met a few days before but he pats your hand and gives you a beaming smile that is sure to be captured by the press. "I am glad. It's all I want for you."

It isn’t. You both know it isn’t. But it’s a lie that you are comfortable living with for the time being. Instead of instigating a conversation about anything of the sort, you hold your head high and glide into the library to the best of your ability.

If there is anything paternal about the man who has created you, it’s this moment that it shines. His smile turns almost genuine as he courts the press and makes a show of settling you into the chair Julius has set up for you. Photographs will be taken of you sitting in a lush rose-colored upholstered chair with deep wood tones to offset the damask fabric. Still in your tiara and crowning dress, you sit in front of your standing father with your ankles neatly together and his hand elegantly – so he says – held to his midsection. Perfectly posed, it's obvious that you have both taken countless photographs before. The difference is that this is the first time that your father has ever been the one in the secondary role.

Once the countless photos are taken, the Senator expects a few candid shots from the press and helps you up with the same manners as when you entered the room. Enjoying the way the staff and the journalists bow or curtsey, pretending it’s for him.

“I have a few things to do before dinner.” As soon as you’re out of the room and Julius has reappeared beside you, you carefully extract your hand from your father’s arm and smooth out your dress. “If you’d like to go down to the stables I’m sure Julius can arrange for a car,” you offer. It’s not even that you have things to do — it’s that you need some time to breathe.

“Of course.” He knows when he’s being dismissed and while he doesn’t like it, there’s not a whole lot he can do about it. “Looking forward to a family dinner together.” He promises.

"We'll meet you in the drawing room before dinner for an aperitif," you tell him, trying to sound nonchalant about a thing that you are actually not looking forward to at all. Standing around having a drink with your family sounds agonizing. "Seb knows the way. He'll go down with you."

"Well then...." It's quite a change of pace to be the one dismissed, to be left for others to have more important issues to attend to. Slightly disconcerting for him but your father nods and moves towards the doorway. "Perhaps a footman can show me to the stables?"

“I’m sure Rafael would be able to show you the way.” The nearest footman is one who has been assigned to see to your needs specifically so you don’t feel odd about asking him out of all of the other staff present. Still getting the bearing of things around the palace, you’re at least able to learn your own staff quickly.

“Of course.” Your father doesn’t even think to bow to you, just nods his head and turns to walk towards the footmen as they stand near the door.

The careful, pointed way that Julius clears his throat in your father's direction is about as polite and subtle as he can manage, but the palace staff all know what it means. No one moves, although they should step aside to open the door for your father right away. They would have – if only he had shown you the proper respect. And if only Julius hadn't quietly pointed it out.

Your father stops, realizing what is required of him and turns back around. “It’s hard to remember that my daughter, my little girl, requires a bow.” He jokes, even as he bristles at the faux pas. He offers a stiff, formal bow before he straightens back upright.

"I'll see you at dinner." It shouldn't be as satisfying as it is that he has to be formal with you, but after an entire lifetime of being bossed around it does make your shoulders feel a little more square and your chin tilt a little higher.

"This way, Senator." Rafael opens the door and waves your father through right away.

As soon as your father exits the library, your ladies in waiting file in, ready to accompany you.

“I’d like to change,” you murmur to Maisie and Gabriela as soon as they’re at your side, wanting to be anywhere but under the public eye at the moment. Things with your father feel weird – shaky in a way – and you don’t like that one bit.

“Of course.” Gabriela nods and immediately takes your arm. “Are you excited by having your family here? They all looked so proud during the coronation.”

“My family is complicated, as I’m sure you can understand.” The offer of her arm is a comfort, though, and you take it readily. “I’m glad their visit will only be a few days. It makes it easier to make sure they enjoy it.” And easier to make sure nothing goes wrong…

"Of course." She understands, more than anyone else, what it means to keep the peace. Even if it means sacrificing your own comfort for some time. In her case, it's all the time. Especially in the past year.

“Did you two enjoy the reception?” There was barely time to say hello to them afterward, with the number of acquaintances there were for you to make in your first hours as Crowned Princess, but you had seen them laughing and eating with friends in the garden.

"I—" Gabriela bites her lip. "It was very nice to socialize." She admits. "Thank you for selecting me again to be one of your ladies." Often Lucas would dominate the conversations or steer her away from most people. It was a nice change to be the more important of the two.

“I’m grateful you agreed.” You tell her honestly, before looking over at Maisie. “Both of you.”

"What else do we have to do?" Maisie teases as she leads the pair of you towards the door, nodding as the footman rushes to open it.

“There’s plenty to do these days.” With wedding and the joint coronation — when Javi is formally crowned king and you become queen — is the sole focus of your work these days.

"Only as your ladies-in-waiting." She chirps as the three of you march down the hall towards your suite.

“There should be something in the planning soon for each of you to enjoy.” As much as you know that they are here to help you, you also don’t want them to dread the time you spend together. There should be things to look forward to that aren’t about you at all.

Gabriela hums and leans in. "It will be very busy right up until your tour of the kingdom." She reminds you quietly. "You just need to decide who you would like to have accompany you on the tour, since it is technically your honeymoon." The jealousy that she had been expecting wasn't there, just worry about being left behind.

“Should that not be up to the two of you?” Honestly you’re not sure at all what the protocol is, so you’re really asking.

"As queen, it is your decision who accompanies you on the tour." Maisie reminds you, her eyes on Gabriela. Wondering if the Countess is trying to get out of going or throwing her hat in the ring.

“I have a feeling I’m going to miss the days when I could get out of making decisions,” you murmur good naturedly as the three of you turn into your suite. Privacy is such a luxury today that you sigh. “I would be delighted to have either of you come,” you tell both ladies. “But if one of you would rather not, for any reason, I fully respect that.”

There's a pause before Gabriela speaks again. "I–I understand that my presence might make your trip.....uncomfortable." She admits. It would be awkward to have the woman that Javi once wished to marry on the honeymoon with the new wife. "Perhaps it should be Maisie."

“If it would make you uncomfortable, that is one thing.” Alone with them, you turn and take both of Gabriela’s hands. “As far as I’m concerned, you are a very kind friend who is about to be family. If I had thought this would be uncomfortable for you or Javi, I would never have asked you to be my lady in waiting in the first place.”

It's almost embarrassing how she tears up. Biting her lip and trying to keep her chin from trembling. You have been so kind to her, despite you having every reason to despise her. Closing her eyes, she nods. "I–I would like to go. As your lady."

“Is that alright with you, Maisie?” You have a feeling that she might feel about it like you do — that getting Gabriela away from regular life for a little bit will be a good thing. That giving her something new in life, and showing her actual appreciation? It’s more than just a little necessary.

“I think that it will be perfect.” Maisie agrees quickly. “Gabriela is a much better historian than I.”

"But I want you both to come to Monaco." There will be no ifs, ands, or buts about it. These are the two closest friends you have in the world besides your brother, and Seb will be there right alongside the three of you. "Before the wedding."

"Of course." Maisie agrees, shooting a grin at you before she starts to walk towards your closet. "We wouldn't miss it. What outfit would you like to wear?" She asks as she disappears into the closet.

“It’s a formal dinner, but something…less fussy would be good.” All you can think is that it’s going to be the thing that Javi takes off of you tonight, and you follow Maisie in with a slightly lopsided smile.

"Something.....playful." Maisie decides, looking back at you. "After the extremely formal events, I find it quite refreshing to wear something fun. Perhaps one of your own outfits you brought?"

“There is a burgundy dress in here somewhere…” You start looking around, trying to figure out where some of your American dresses were hung. “High collar, sleeveless, and ankle length. But it flows beautifully.” And the neckline is also tied up with a string at the base of your throat, something you feel positively tingly thinking about Javi untying.

"Burgundy is a strong color to wear." She muses, moving over to the section of the closet where your clothes have been neatly arranged as Gabriela comes in to sit down on the small settee. "So have you and Javi....you know, yet?" Maisie asks, her head stuck in the closet, pushing clothes out of the way.

“Maisie!” If she had asked the question five seconds ago instead of right when Gabriela walked up beside you, you would be far less embarrassed. Now you feel like your face is on fire. “No! N-no—I mean—his father just died!”

"You should." The former love interest of the now king smiles. Sitting down beside you and patting your hand. "Javier is physical, he needs touch." She bites her lip, knowing that it was very improper of her to talk about those things, but there is an openness between you. "He is honestly the best lover I've ever had. I know he will please you."

“It’s not—I mean—we’ve slept together,” you clarify, feeling awkward yourself after promising up and down that having Gabriela here isn’t awkward at all. You just don’t want to hurt her with how fucking deeply in love with Javi you’ve fallen so fast. “But actually sleeping.”

"That sounds romantic." It's bittersweet, a pang that she doesn't have that with Javi, would never have it again, but it was a star crossed love. It could never be real. "I hope that it has brought you closer together."

“It has.” It was unexpected, the way things have progressed, but not in any way unwelcome. In fact, you welcome tonight with open arms.

She smiles, truly happy that her former love has found happiness. it was all she had ever wished for him, even if she has not found it herself. "Then you should not waste a moment, an opportunity to make sure that he knows how you feel."

“We…” Looking between both women, you can feel the heat rise in your cheeks. “We…talked about…tonight…”

"Ohhhhh." Maisie's smirk grows wide and even Gabriela grins. "Now we need to talk lingerie." She decides and the other woman pulls you to your feet to drag you over towards the built- in drawers.

“I—I don’t own any lingerie,” you protest immediately, though they seem to be sure of where to take you. “Just regular things…not showy things.”

Gabriela bites her lip, aware that it would be too improper to offer you some of her own. Especially considering the circumstances. "I have some." Maisie offers with a grin. "And we will have the modesite come to measure you for some custom pieces."

“Is that…a normal thing to do?” Partially you mean to ask if it would be normal for a clothier to make lingerie specifically for a princess, but you’re also asking about relationships in general. You may have had boyfriends before — and done plenty of messing around with them — but the reality of still technically being a virgin is beginning to weigh on you as you think about tonight. The last thing you want to do is disappoint Javi.

If the question catches either woman off guard, they don’t show it. “Sometimes. It’s something fun and sexy. Especially under formal dresses.” Maisie answers with a grin.

“I take it it’s something your husband enjoys?” Since Maisie has only ever spoken well of her husband, you’re willing to bet those small, sexy surprises are a positive thing for them. A happy thing.

“A present he gets to unwrap.” She assures you with a naughty smirk. “I wear something sexy when I want attention, or to surprise him. Or just to feel pretty.”

"I've never..." Wrapping your arms around your waist, you debate telling them. Your whole truth is such an odd one and you don't know at all how they would react to it, so you swallow the thought for now and try again. "I've never been with someone long enough...to, you know...surprise them like that."

“Oh.” Maisie glances over at Gabriela and nods. “Nothing to worry about.” She promises you. “But it means virginal might drive Javi insane.”

"Is it..." They apparently knew exactly what you meant, and you feel yourself getting a little more self-conscious in the moment. "Something that...he likes? I guess I was always under the impression that men...preferred experience? Not that I'm inexperienced of course, it's just...it's that specific..." Nerves make you ramble, but you catch yourself and swallow a groan before dropping your face into your hands. "May I be honest with both of you? Or would you prefer I keep this to myself?"

“Please, share anything you wish.” Gabriela reaches out for your hand to pull it away from your face. “We are here for you and I wish to repay your kindness, your friendship, any way I can.

"The thing is..." With a sigh, you sit back on the pouf set in amongst the shelves and racks in your closet and look up at the two women who have agreed to help you through this transition. To be your friends. Arranged friends just like your arranged marriage. "I've known that I was going to marry Javi since I was young. Practically my entire life. Our mothers...it was all arranged by our parents, and I wasn't really allowed to have serious boyfriends growing up because I knew I was going to marry this faraway prince. So it's not that I'm completely inexperienced, but...this?" You curl your arms around yourself and shrug helplessly. "I have very literally been waiting for him my whole life. And it's just starting to hit me that the waiting is completely over."

“Oh, Daisy,” Gabriela softens even more and reaches for your other hand while Maisie holds the other. “I know you have to be excited, nervous. If Javier knows, he will be very considerate, even more than he always is.” She smiles. “I cannot think of a more perfect man to experience intimacy with for the first time.”

“He knows.” You nod once, squeezing Gabriela’s hand. “But he…he didn’t know about me until just before I arrived. I need you to know that, Gabriela. My parents prepared me for this for my entire life, but Javi had no idea that everything had already been arranged.” It makes it rather sweet, how quickly you have fallen for each other, but it’s important that Gabriela know that Javi had never lied to her. That he hadn’t kept this large secret while he was with her.

“I had been told.” Gabriela reveals quietly. “By King Miguel when he told me that he was rejecting Javier’s request to propose to me.” She squeezes your hand back. “The king ordered me to not tell his son. That it would be told to him at the proper time, but he wanted me to know that he was not denying him because he thought I would not be a good Princess, a good wife, for Javier. He and his wife had just decided on someone else long ago.”

“Please know that I truly do love him.” It is desperately important to you in this moment that you are honest with her, hoping to be able to put some of this awkward worry between you to rest. To be able to move forward as true friends. “I never expected it to happen so quickly, but it has been undeniable.”

“That is all I would hope for.” The former flame of the king assures you quickly. “You do not wish to be in a loveless marriage.”

Unfortunately, the implication is all too clear, and you pull yourself off the pouf to envelope her in a tight hug. “You are a kind soul, Gabriela,” you murmur after a moment. “And I hope you know I am grateful for your friendship.”

"As I am for yours." You have no clue how grateful she is. How indebted she is to you for the kindness and sensitivity you have shown, when she could not have expected it with anyone else. Especially since you seem to not care for her husband. Something else the two of you share.

“And yours, dear Maisie.” She cannot be left out of this for a single moment, especially as she has been your true and constant ally since almost the moment you met.

"We will all be one big, happy sisterhood." Maisie insists. "Now. Do you want to come to my room or should I run to go get those things for you to see and try on?"

“Do you have anything that would match the dress?” Gabriela prompts, finding herself on slightly surer footing now. With you, at least, she feels a bit freer.

"I have some black things that would go nicely, but there is...." She snaps her fingers. "I have a pale pink set that would go beautifully under the maroon dress. It's innocent and sexy all at the same time." She smirks. "Even better? I've never worn it for my husband."

“And you wouldn’t mind?” Sharing lingerie is very much a new experience for you, and you chew your lip with nerves. “I’ll replace it for you, I promise.”

"No, I insist, it's a gift." She winks at you playfully. "My contribution to the happiness of the monarchy." She holds up a finger. "Give me two minutes and I'll be right back with them."

“I’m nervous,” you admit with a sigh as Maisie goes bounding from the room. You only thing you can think to do is focus on dressing and you turn to the wall of shoes in your closet.

"Did–" Gabriela pauses delicately. "Is there anything I can share with you?" She asks softly. "Or questions to be answered?" While she's sure you know the mechanics of sex, it would be hard to be an adult in this age and not, maybe there are some questions that having a woman who is experienced would be able to be answered for you. She can't imagine you are terribly close with your stepmother.

“I’m inclined to ask if there is anything Javi particularly dislikes, but that might be too invasive of a question.” You bury your face in your hands again and sigh. “Please don’t feel the need to answer that. I’m just thinking out loud.”

“I know this is awkward.” Gabriela laughs quietly, embarrassed herself but she’s not going to let it stop her from making sure that you know what you need to. “Javi is a very giving lover, so he neglects things he wants.” She admits. “He loves being kissed and touched. Showing that you want him.”

“That…” A nervous giggle escapes you. “Will not be a problem. I can promise that entirely.”

She bites her lip and decides to be more bold. “There is something you can do, it’s – it is with your tongue.” She huffs, unable to come up with the words and takes your hand. “Let me show you.” She decides and pops your index finger in her mouth.

“Gabri—” Your eyes nearly bug out of your head when you feel the swirl of her tongue, a wondrously uninhibited feeling for a person such as yourself who tries to maintain control of herself at all times. “I—” You stammer again, swallowing thickly. “I–I see why that would have been difficult for you to describe…”

"Yes it would have." Gabriela giggles in embarrassment as she pulls your finger out of her mouth and immediately produces a handkerchief to start cleaning your finger off.

“I will…bear that in mind.” It will surely give away that you have talked with Gabriela about him, but you aren’t so sure that that is a bad thing. After all, is she not the one who knows him best?

"You don't have to use it, I am sure that Javier wants you just as you are." She assures you. "Your closeness and your...." she searches for the word. "Groove together will come naturally."

“I don’t think anyone has ever implied I had a groove before.” You can’t help but giggle about it a little, feeling a little more relaxed for it. The wall of shoes in front of you is what should be holding your attention before you run out of time to appear out together, so you loop your arm through Gabriela’s and turn both of you toward the collection. “I’m very glad you’re here, Gabriela.”

"I am glad I am here too." She tells you, meaning every word of it. "What about the silver stilettos?" She asks, tilting her head as she looks at them. "Or, we can wait to see what color pink the lingerie is and see if we can match it. An homage to what is underneath the dress."

“For the first time it seems practical to have multiple pairs of pink shoes,” you joke, lending her a smile. “But if none of them match, the silver will be lovely.”

"I've got them!" Maisie crows as she sails back into the dressing room with a bag. "I thought this would be more discreet." She admits, holding it up for them to see.

“Yes. Much.” The bag is marked with the logo of a posh spa in the city that you had read about before. Anyone curious enough to look would assume that Maisie was bringing you lotion or some equally innocuous bath products.

"Strip down." She orders you with a grin. "We have to get you all sexed up tonight!"

“Absolutely the first time in my life anyone has said that to me.” With a burning face, you nab the bag from Maisie’s hand and duck behind the nearby dressing screen to change.

"Let me know if you need a hand!" She calls out, sitting down behind Gabriela. "How are you, honey?" She asks her quietly, knowing that she might have reservations about everything that she doesn't want to express to you.

“Okay.” She forces herself to smile, folding her hands in her lap as they sit together on the overly large pouf. “Better than you might think. It is…” She sighs softly. “It is a relief to know that he is loved.”

"You are a fantastic woman, Gabriela." She murmured softly, reaching out and covering her hands with her own. "A true lady."

“I hope so,” she whispers back, grateful for the quiet moment. There are so many things which have turned out so differently than she expected. If she has retained even an ounce of her own kindness, she will be relieved.

"I know so." Maisie, squeezes her hands again and then leans in. "If you ever need anything, I hope you know you can trust me." She offers. "I feel as if we will be wonderful friends going forward."

“Thank you,” Gabriel murmurs, breathing out a shaky breath as you step out from behind the dressing screen.

"Ohhhhhh." Maisie turns to you, immediately giggling. "You are going to knock the king on his ass tonight when he gets a load of this outfit on you. You look stunning."

“We seem to be the same size.” The pieces underneath your dress fit perfectly, which you admit is a bit surprising but right now you’re grateful for it. “Do you really—is it—do I look okay? Really?”

"What do you think?" Gabriela stands and guides you over to the mirror to let you look at yourself. "You look gorgeous. Sexy."

“I feel…outside myself,” you admit quietly. The dress is beautiful. It always has been. But knowing what is on underneath it makes you feel like you have the slyest secret of your life. “I just hope he likes it.”

"He will love it." That she can assure you. "Now, we can choose your shoes and change your makeup to something a little less sweet and more sexy."

The makeover is so quick that it feels like a movie montage, and in a mere half hour you’re restyled to be ready for dinner — and for Javi tonight.

******

Javi is nervous. He knows that you don’t have experience and he wants to make this good for you. “Julius, have a bottle of champagne and a platter of strawberries put in the princess’s room tonight after dinner please.”

“Of course, sir.” Julius doesn’t make a habit of asking questions, but it is a romantic gesture and the king seems nervous this evening as they wrap up his work before dinner time. “Is there anything else you will need tonight?”

“No.” He shakes his head firmly. “No one is to disturb the Princess and I once dinner is over unless war breaks out or the palace is on fire.” He declares. Everything else could wait for morning.

“Shall I post an extra guard?” Though he isn’t entirely sure what the king has planned, Julius can certainly ensure security if necessary.

“No, no extra guards.” The last thing he wants is for you to be embarrassed if someone hears something. “No guards by the doors. Have them at the end of the hall.”

“As your Majesty wishes.” He does find that to be a bit of a clue and smiles.

He knows the man isn’t stupid, he understands and Javi waves his hand. “Anything I’m missing?” He asks him seriously. “Candles? Flowers?”

“Do you know her favorite flower?” Julius asks, wondering if it is the sort of thing to have come up in conversation yet. If not, Flores will know. “That is always a nice touch.”

“Daisies.” He smiles softly. “She loves daisies.”

“I will have some arrangements sent to her suite while you are at dinner,” he promises. “Perhaps with roses for embellishment?”

“Perfect.” Javier smiles as he imagines your reaction. “And the candles. Just candlelight.”

“Yes. I will see to it now.” Julius slides from the room with a bow, off to collect the first footman he finds to begin preparations for the king’s evening. Paperwork can wait. The palace — even part of it — will have happiness again tonight.

Javier finishes up the last of the signatures needed and stands, sighing slightly. Hoping that your parents will behave better than they had before, hating that you had seemed so upset. He straightens his suit coat before he begins to walk towards the dining room.

______

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[kwanisms]

Kinkuary 13 Changbin — formal wear // choking

➥ power bottom!Changbin × switch!Reader summary: Looking at Seo Changbin, one would expect him to be a dominant kind of man but that couldn't be further from the truth. At least, not with his girlfriend. She's the one who calls the shots, especially when Changbin is wearing his suit and tie. wc: 2.7k warnings: afab reader, adult dialogue, alcohol consumption, established relationship, sexual content (minors dni!): switch!Reader, power bottom!Changbin, formal wear kink, sensory deprivation (blindfolding and that's it lol), choking kink, Changbin has an oral fixation, teasing, use of pet names (reader calls Changbin sweet things like babe, good boy), tit play, Changbin is very vocal, let me know if I missed any warnings! a/n: normally I'd write Changbin as a dom or as a switch at the very least but I wanted to try something different. I hope I did well and you enjoy this part! Thank you for reading and as always, this is a work of fiction and all characters are not reflective of their respective irl counterparts. for entertainment purposes only. banner made by me. I do not allow reposts or translations of my works. All my works are ©️ kwanisms. Permanent taglist: @yoonguurt @candidupped @dejavernon Kinkuary full taglist: @baldi-2 @wonderfulshinee @lacie220900 @sup-dallyboy @drunk-on-dk @violagoth @mixling-blog @kosmoreads @yourfavoritefreakyhan Stray Kids taglist: @niktwazny303 @g4m3girl @rapmonie2047 @indigo35 @witherednotes @cixrosie @fay-ebrahim @kirooz @flowerboykun @beomgyusbabygirl Strikethrough means I cannot tag you. MINORS WILL BE BLACKLISTED AND BLOCKED. Join the taglist!

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“Well don’t you look nice,” you said, glancing up as Changbin entered the room. He looked down at where you sat, eyes looking him up and down. 

It was no secret between the two of you that you loved it when he dressed up, especially in a suit or a tux as he was wearing now. You always liked it the most when he came home all dressed up. It was like getting a present.

Noticing the look in your eyes, Changbin tried not to think about how you looked like you were about to jump his bones any second. ‘I should have changed at the building. She’s about to make it very difficult for me to leave.’ 

His cheeks turned pink, images playing in his head about why he might be late before he turned to search for his shoes. “Where are you going?” You asked, settling back against the couch as you returned your attention to your book, the tv playing in the background.

“One of my manager’s is getting married today, remember?” Changbin answered as he finally found the shoes he was looking for and moved to the dining table to put them on.

You did remember. You remembered how he came home and told you the news. You were happy for his manager but when Changbin said that he couldn’t bring you, in fact that he was forbidden to bring you with him, you suddenly weren’t as happy as before.

Truth be told, you were actually pretty bitter about the whole situation for a few days but as time went on, you eventually forgot that bitterness and went about your life as usual. Until Changbin appeared in his suit anyway.

Now you were bitter again.

It wasn’t like his managers didn’t know you existed or that you and Changbin were together. They were well aware and never made any demand that Changbin end things or hide you away from the world. Even the fans knew you existed.

So why you were forbidden from attending the wedding was beyond you and it was beyond Changbin as well.

“Well, have fun,” you said shortly, not noticing the way Changbin threw a guilty look your way. He felt beyond horrible that he had to be the one to tell you that you couldn’t come to the wedding with him. He wanted nothing more than to take you with him, show you off, and dance with you.

But his manager was adamant. You were not permitted to attend the ceremony or reception.

It was no secret his manager, for some reason, didn't like you and Changbin couldn’t fathom why. You were always polite, extremely intelligent, unimaginably funny, and a complete joy to be around. It was a mystery not only to him but to the rest of Stray Kids as well. Neither he nor his friends could figure out why his manager seemingly detested you.

He couldn’t do anything about it now. It was his manager’s wedding after all so it was his decision.

Changbin got up, shoes now tied properly and walked over to where you sat, leaning over the back of the couch and kissing the top of your head. “I’ll be back later,” he said softly. You hummed in response, keeping your eyes on your book. “I love you,” Changbin whispered.

You set your book down and looked up at him. “I love you, too.”

He took the opportunity to steal a kiss from you, his body demanding more as he pulled away, not knowing your body was craving more but you’d have to wait until he got home later.

“I’ll see you later tonight.”

You occupied your time with reading until you finished your book and decided to get some chores done. The laundry was waiting to be done and the dishwasher needed to be emptied and refilled so you started with the laundry, making sure to empty both yours and Changbin’s hampers.

While the washer worked, you emptied the dishwasher, putting away the clean dishes before filling it with the dirty ones and shut the door. The washer buzzed, signaling it had finished some time later and you started the dishwasher and moved to put the wet laundry in the dryer.

While the dryer ran, you watched some television, catching the tail end of an episode of a drama you’d already watched with your boyfriend. You decided to tidy up to kill time until the dryer finally dinged, letting you know it was done.

With the fresh laundry in a basket, you sat on the couch, folding your clothes, sorting between yours and Changbin’s as you worked. You flipped through channels, trying to find something to watch but finding nothing. Instead you booted up Netflix and put on a movie you’d been meaning to watch while you folded laundry.

Once done, you took the clean clothes to the bedroom and put it away, hanging up your nice blouses and Changbin’s shirts. You put away the rest of the clothes and put the empty basket on top of the dryer, closing the folding doors and heading to the kitchen to make a bowl of popcorn before heading back into the living room to resume the movie.

As the movie was wrapping up, the front door opened and you glanced over as Changbin arrived home. He kicked his shoes off, tossing his keys onto the counter as he locked the door and walked further into the apartment.

His eyes landed on you and the previous expression on his face melted and softened as he moved to throw himself onto the couch. You let out a cry of surprise as he threw himself onto your lap, burying his face in your waist as his arms wrapped around you.

“Changbin, what the—?” You started but he shook his head. “I missed you,” he said softly. You hesitated before relaxing against the couch, running your fingers through his styled locks, messing it up but you couldn’t be bothered.

Changbin loved it when you ran your fingers through his hair.

Your phone buzzed on the coffee table and you leaned forward to grab the device, ignoring Changbin’s whines of protest. You unlocked the screen to see a text from Chris.

Chris🐨: did Bin make it upstairs okay? You: yeah, he threw himself onto my lap as soon as he got his shoes off Chris🐨: good. He did not have a good time tonight You: what? Why? Chris🐨: he missed you a lot. He wanted you here You: i wish i could have been there but not much we could have done about that Chris🐨: i know it just Chris🐨: i’ve never seen him like this before Chris🐨: it really tore him up, not being able to bring you with him You: i understand, thanks chris Chris🐨: no problem y/n

You set your phone aside and looked down at Changbin. ‘Poor guy.’

“Did you have too much to drink?” You whispered, expecting him to say yes. “Not really,” he grumbled. “Just not in a good mood.”

Your brow furrowed but chose to ignore it. “Anything I can do to help?” You asked, noticing the way he merely shrugged.

“Oh hey, I didn’t get a good look at you before you left,” you said suddenly.

Changbin lifted his head to meet your gaze.

“Get up,” you urged, making him whine in protest. You nudged him until he conceded with a whine. He got up and stood before you for a moment before sitting down. “That wasn’t nearly long enough,” you pouted.

“Do it again.”

Changbin whined but stood up again, cheeks burning as you checked him out.

“Are you done?” He asked, drawing your attention back to his face.

You got up slowly, hand moving up his chest to his shoulder, then down his arm to take his hand in yours before tugging him from the living room and to the bedroom.

You pulled him into you, lips meeting and surprising him but he welcomed the kiss all the same as his hands found purchase on your waist. “What’s gotten into you?” He mumbled as your lips left his, trailing down his jaw to his neck. “Hopefully you will,” you murmured cheekily.

Changbin groaned, his hands moving to your hips, pulling your body closer to his.

“Shit, Y/N. All this because I wore a tux?” He asked, a hint of amusement to his voice. You nodded, turning him to push him back onto the bed, causing him to laugh as he landed on his back on the mattress.

“You’re something else,” he said as you undid his jacket, making him sit up to push the article off him, your hand going to his tie and pulling it loose. “You know you’re supposed to wear a bowtie with tuxedos,” you chastised him jokingly.

You pulled the tie off as he chuckled. “I don’t have any bowties here,” he answered as you undid the knot in the tie. “Then maybe you should get some,” you replied, holding the tie up.

“Keep undressing me and I’ll get something,” he retorted as you carefully wrapped the tie around his head, tying it firmly to restrict his eyesight. “What are you doing?” He asked, looking around blindly, making you giggle, pushing him onto his back.

“Keep it on,” you warned as your fingers moved to undo his shirt one button at a time until you got to his pants. You undid the belt, pulling it from the loops and threw it aside with a grumble when it fought against you.

Changbin laughed from under you though he couldn’t see.

Your fingers fumbled with the button and zipper on his pants until you were finally able to pull his pants down, climbing off him and taking the fabric with you and throwing it away. You pulled him up to sit and pushed the shirt off him.

“You’ve taken so much off me,” he said as you climbed back onto his lap, his hands moving to your waist, fingers toying with the hem of your shirt. “But you’re still fully clothed,” he pouted.

Without a word, you pulled your top off, dropping it behind you onto the floor. Changbin’s hands slid up your sides, moving to your chest to cup your breasts over your bralette.

“Am I going to wear this blindfold the whole time?” Changbin asked as your hips moved, grinding against his cloth covered erection. You nodded, humming in response. “Until I say you can take it off.”

You pushed him back onto the mattress, leaning over to take his lips in a teasing set of kisses, making him chase your lips each time you pulled away. “Stop teasing me,” he groaned, his hand grabbing the back of your neck and pulling you into a rough kiss, his other hand grabbing your thigh, fingers digging into your skin.

Your hips continued to move, rolling and grinding against him until Changbin couldn’t take it anymore. “You just gonna strip me down and not fuck me?” He growled.

You sat up, climbing off him. He thought he’d fucked up until he felt you tug his underwear down, probably throwing them somewhere in the room. You always undressed him so hastily when he came home dressed up.

You climbed back on top, taking in the site of your blindfolded boyfriend below you. Taking his cock in your hand, you gave him a few strokes before sinking down, your lips parting in a moan as you took him in one motion.

“Fuck,” Changbin hissed, his hands grabbing your hips. “That’s all I had to say?” He asked with a chuckle, letting out a moan as you rolled your hips experimentally. “Don’t talk back,” you warned. “Or I won’t let you cum.”

Changbin fell silent, letting out a groan as you lifted off him, sinking back down on his cock and setting a steady pace, lifting your hips and sinking back down on his cock. “Oh fuck,” he moaned, hands moving up to your chest.

“Oh, you finally got fully undressed too?” He asked, cupping your tits and squeezing gently. “Only because you’ve been such a good boy,” you replied, drawing your bottom lip between your teeth as his hands moved, thumbs brushing over and circling your nipples, the skin pebbling under his touch.

“He noticed how the skin changed under his touch. “I don’t even need to see to be able to affect you,” he chuckled, rolling your nipple under the pad of his thumb.

“I wish you’d let me fuck these,” he added, squeezing and pushing your tits together. You moaned, walls clenching around his cock. “Shit,” you hissed.

Changbin sat up, lips finding your nipple and taking it in his mouth, his tongue swirling around and lightly flicking against the sensitive bud while his other hand kneaded and teased your other nipple, gently squeezing and rolling it between his fingers. “Keep going,” Changbin said breathlessly. “Keep riding me like that.”

Your thighs were starting to burn but you weren’t going to give up that easily. “You sound so pretty,” Changbin whispered as you moaned, resting your forehead against his shoulder. “Are you getting tired?” he asked in an amused voice. You lifted your head, putting your hands on his shoulders and pushing him onto his back.

“Stay down,” you ordered, making Changbin chuckle. He loved it when you tried to act like you were in control.

“Whatever you say, babe,” he said teasingly, his hands moving to your hips. “Just ride me.”

One of your hands moved to his neck, wrapping your fingers around his throat lightly.

“You talk too much,” you snapped breathlessly, squeezing your boyfriend's neck slightly.

Changbin has never regretted teaching you how to choke more than right now. He never expected you to actually use it against him but he'd be lying if he said it wasn't a little hot, your hand on his neck as you rode him, chasing your own orgasm.

He was fine with you cumming first. You usually did and he normally made it his mission to make you cum first so when you sank onto him one last time, moaning his name as you came, he was more than happy to take over.

He ripped the blindfold off, tossing the silk tie aside as he sat up, pushing you onto your back and immediately resumed the same pace, thrusting into you, pushing your thighs back and folding your body in half.

Not only was this his favorite position, he got to help you ride out your current climax while also speeding you towards another one. You didn't even have time to catch your breath before you were cumming again with a cry, chanting Changbin’s name over and over like a mantra as your walls convulsed around him.

The fluttering of your cunt sent him over the edge as he came, burying his cock as deep into you as he could reach, his load exploding inside you, filling you up as you shuddered. “Fuck!” Changbin hissed, arms shaking as he tried to keep himself from collapsing onto you.

He let your legs go, one at a time and finally laid down, resting his head on your chest, cheek pressing to your skin and hearing your heart hammering in your chest almost in time with his own.

“You okay?” you asked, fingers combing through his hair, pushing his sweaty bangs off his forehead.

“Yeah,” he panted. “Just give me a second.”

You hummed in response, continuing to card your fingers through his hair as you both came down from your post orgasm highs, the exhaustion passing and giving way for the euphoric feeling that always followed.

“You wanna shower?” Changbin murmured, finally breaking the comfortable silence that had settled between you.

You nodded. “I could go for a shower,” you sighed. Changbin finally pushed himself up, his cock already having slipped out of you and his cum working its way out of your cunt. “Keep that in there,” Changbin said softly, using his fingers to collect the small amount that spilled out and pushed it back in.

You slapped his hand away playfully, admonishing him. “Changbin!”

He smiled cheekily as he rolled off the bed and waited for you to get up to join him.

“Now we're showering, right?” You asked as he took your hand and dragged you towards your shared bathroom.

“Right? We’re showering, aren't we? Changbin?” You asked as he chuckled.

“Maybe we are and maybe we aren’t,” he answered as he pulled you into the bathroom with him.

“You’ll just have to wait and see.”

[raainberry]

Moonflower - III

« In literature, the moonflower has been used as a symbol of love, mystery, and enchantment. »

Sana x gn!reader

Okay maybe it’s angst this time

synopsis - your job is still flowers. she's still not sure how she got into this mess. but maybe you could get her out of it.

- part I - part II -

wordcount - 3.4K

TW - like three (3) of the same soft cuss word

A/N - here is my first piece of work that made me cry out of frustration (we will be blaming emo hours). now if you saw my breakdown live on the tl two days ago, no you didn’t. and if you saw my update yesterday saying this very thing would be up later that day, no you didn’t either. i fell asleep, your girl was running on three hours of sleep (wonder why🥰) it happens to the best of us SORRY. hope you enjoy it though! im actually not too mad at how it turned out🤭

“How would your wedding look like?” She asked, taking a sip of her water bottle.

You chuckled softly at the question, wondering what had prompted it apart from the obvious.

“I haven’t thought about that.” You answered truthfully.

“Not even once?”

“No.”

“You’re lying.” She said, convinced of her own words.

“Am I?”

“You’ve helped hundreds of people with their own.” She pointed out. “It’s impossible not to think of what yours would look like.”

“I help them choose flowers. I’m not organizing their entire reception.” You argued.

“Then you probably thought about that much.”

You turned to her.

She was right, but you weren’t lying either.

Flowers were the only thing you’d envisioned so far.

“So which is it gonna be?” She insisted.

“Moonflowers.” You answered, making her chuckle.

“I could have guessed that.”

“Yet you haven’t.”

You fully expected the way she rolled her eyes at you before looking away to focus on the dark horizon.

A small, comfortable silence settled between the two of you. One of many throughout this spontaneous outing, and with each one, you seemed to appreciate them a little more.

Because they never seem to last with her.

“I’ll get the moonflowers.” She blurted out, cutting the moment short yet again.

“What?”

“For the wedding.” She said, almost shrugging as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

Given the context, it was, but still… You stayed silent, thinking back to the very reason you were even sitting beside her at the moment.

The two of you were parked at the top of some small hill overlooking part of the town, laying against the windshield of your car and sitting on top of the hood.

All your problems seemed so small up there, barely even deserving of a thought. The afternoon you just spent together did wonders for your souls.

She had asked you to drive around before going back home. That somehow lead you to hours of wasting gas and money at random shops, most of which you’d never even heard of.

The more you followed her around, the more it all felt like a getaway. Not in the idyllic sense, rather in the literal one. You could tell she was avoiding her apartment. Obviously you had an idea as to why, and maybe that’s what pushed you to give in to every single one of her requests.

It was nice doing things she wanted.

Sana eventually realised that was the true reason why she delayed returning to her apartment over and over. She couldn’t care less about the man living there with her, nor about whether or not he was actually waiting for her there.

She just didn’t want it to stop. The feeling of mattering. Of being considered. Being seen. Heard.

Her smile slowly returned as hours went by, justifying everything you’d done for her in so little time. It gave you purpose, proving you weren’t losing your mind in vain.

Because boy did she drive you insane.

Was she really still going through with it all?

“Why don’t you choose your own?” You asked her, trying to distract yourself from your own thoughts.

At the end of the day, it was none of your business. It wasn’t your decision to make.

“Possessive much?” She teased, and you straightened yourself up. The top of this hood suddenly felt uncomfortable.

“Not necessarily. But the only way you’re getting moonflowers at your wedding is by marrying me.”

That’s what you heard yourself say just seconds later.

You’d mumbled it to yourself, letting your old flirting skills and days get the best of you for some reason. You looked at her, hoping she hadn’t heard or at least not enough to get it.

A second passed. Then two. Three.

The lack of questioning was alarming, and in good reason.

You had managed to make her speechless. Unwillingly, yes, but it only made it that much more unbelievable.

Even thinking she couldn’t do, as if her mind had short-circuited at the thought of marrying someone else than the man she’d been conditioned to.

“It was a joke.” You finally spoke up, hoping to break her out of her trance.

It was the truth. It might have been borderline flirting, but the main goal was humor. You were technically joking.

But still. All she did was blink.

Maybe she needed help at finding words, that’s why her lips suddenly fell on yours, right? To steal them from you?

You mentally chuckled at your ridiculous thought process, ashamed of it as if it had been heard by the whole world. Good thing it faded out with each one of her kisses.

She was efficient, you’ll give her that. However what stuck with you was how soft, how delicate her lips were against yours. It debilitated all cognitive functions of your brain. The power was out for at least three seconds at one point. You couldn’t think straight, kissing her back as if you were supposed to.

As if she were yours to begin with.

It’s unclear how long it took for you to gain enough sense back, all you knew was that feeling her bite down on your bottom lip did the trick.

The faint pain as she tugged on it ever so softly snapped you back to reality, warning you about what would come if you didn’t pull away in the next second.

You felt your heart race as it all sunk in.

The one thing you had told yourself not to fall into earlier that day… A trap that seemed so obvious it managed to fool you. You practically jumped into it.

As much as you danced around it, you knew what you were here for. What you’d agreed to. What she wanted you for.

You knew you were just a pawn in her vendetta from the start. She’d made it very clear. So why did the whole idea just dawn on you now?

Maybe you’d turned a blind eye for as long as you could, you couldn’t say to save your life. All you knew was that you didn’t like it one bit.

So when she went for another kiss, leaning in to capture your swollen bottom lip, you made sure she never reached it.

That earned you a confused look from her, as if it were the first time her kiss was denied. The sight would have been amusing, if only you didn’t feel so torn yourself…

Your gaze reflected that to Sana, and she had a hard time figuring out what exactly was it that was so wrong.

Though she could at least tell you were tormented, it was only confirmed when you jumped off the hood.

She watched as you started to walk away from the car and further into the darkness surrounding you.

Where the hell were you going? You were basically in the middle of nowhere.

“Y/N!”

The sound of the rocks and dirt beneath your shoes faded out as you came to a halt, feeling her eyes burning into your back.

“Where are you going?”

You turned around, seeing she had stepped off the hood too, and taken a few steps towards you.

“I’m going home.” You told her, tearing your eyes off her as you started walking away again.

“So you’re leaving me alone in some hilltop at night in the middle of nowhere?”

No, you weren’t.

You made sure to brush right past her on your way back, though, heading straight into the driver’s seat.

Slamming the door behind you, you let out a heavy sigh you were sure she’d heard from outside. It took longer than you’d have liked for her to join you, only sitting in the passenger seat after making sure you’d calmed down.

Not a word from her. Not a sound from you. Only your clothes rubbing together as your leg showed itself to be restless.

You refused to look at her. She didn’t like the attitude, but a part of her could understand. So she didn’t say anything, and stared out her own window in silence.

As minutes went by, your anger and frustration slowly get overcome by a familiar sensation.

Greed. You wanted to know.

Nothing about this woman concerned you. Yet you wanted to know more. You needed to.

The feeling appeared as soon as she’d spoken up at the flower shop, and now it managed to appear without a single word from her.

It was only days ago. The speed of it all was frightening.

Yet you couldn’t help how curious the still silhouette in the corner of your eye made you. What was she thinking about now?

The wedding? Her fiancé? Herself? You?

Turning to look at her, you watched her through a calmer mind as your questions grew in number despite yourself.

“What’s on your mind?” You finally spoke up.

Your voice was louder than you remembered. It startled her, but she hid it well before meeting your gaze.

“Nothing you’d care about.”

You frowned internally. The same feeling as back in the flower shop again. You felt it back when she sat down beside you on the hood earlier too.

She was close. She was pretty. So pretty.

You suddenly felt jealous, and that pretty much signed off on the insanity of this situation you’d somehow put yourself in. Or maybe she’d dragged you in it, who cares, it wasn’t important anymore.

“Don’t get married.”

You whispered this time, but the words were still loud.

Sana closed her eyes, and the silence that followed was loud enough to stress about it. Your words had slipped out again, but this time you found nothing to cover them up with.

Partly because you didn’t even want to cover them up.

Her eyes opened again, allowing the cheap lighting outside to reflect on those beautiful brown eyes. You were in awe at that point. Tired, but still able to appreciate such a pretty sight.

“You’re so unfair.”

You snapped out of your trance at the sound of your own thoughts echoing through her lips.

“What?”

“You know why I brought you here, right?”

Her gaze fixated far ahead while you could only focus on hers. You weren’t trying to make her look at you, though. You were only trying to see what she was seeing.

“Answer me.” She ordered, attempting to conceal the weakness in her voice.

“I do.” You admitted.

“Then help me.” She pleaded. “I can’t do it alone.”

“I’m trying to.” You assured her. “Ever since you stepped into the shop, that’s all I’ve done.”

“Then why did you pull away?”

You sighed once more, finding interest out the windshield as well. Your lips parted without sound for a second, debating on whether or not you should let these words slip out too…

“I don’t want to be your scapegoat.”

Sana swallowed the knot in her throat. The truth was a little hard, but it remained. You were right.

She didn’t plan on kissing you earlier. That alone could have proven your worries to be wrong. However, everything she managed to think about as soon as her lips touched yours… It all gave you more than one reason to worry.

Giving in to desire was weak on her part. Part of her regretted it. It threw away all her hopes of ever pulling the spectacular revenge she dreamed about.

So she had to think of a backup plan.

What she managed to come up with was simple, deprived of any details she would normally be able to think of. Infatuation only allowed her to think of the big picture, while she focused on satisfying her desire.

By that point, she did plan on sleeping with you. She did plan on letting her fiancé find out. And after that, she did plan on throwing you under the bus if things ever got too much to handle.

Now that her mind was given time to properly think, she realised something very upsetting.

This so called backup plan was none other than her inital one. One she’d made up in the lowest point of her life, all out of hope and lost in purpose.

She was back at square one.

“I’m sorry.” She whispered, making you look back at her.

Her eyes were closed, and you found out it was a weak attempt at stopping the tears from rolling down her cheeks.

The sight of them surprisingly left you indifferent. You stared at her in silence for a few long seconds, unsure of what to do, or say.

You were hesitant, but you were far from heartless.

Your index finger ended up reaching for her jaw, catching the salted droplet before it stained the fabric of her pants below. The one on the other side of her face might have, but that wasn’t something to worry about for either of you.

Sana’s mind was stuck on your finger lingering on her sharpest bone. The feeling of your skin against hers, of a touch as innocent as this one… It was conflicting.

She opened her eyes, catching yours by surprise. She expected you to, but you didn’t look away this time. That allowed her to notice the color of your eyes for the first time.

She couldn’t tell you why she got stuck on such a detail, and to be honest, she didn’t feel the need to find a reason.

She could, so she did. Something else she hadn’t been able to do in a long while.

And it felt good.

“Y/N…”

Your jaw clenched at the sound. Your name sounded so pretty enlaced in that sweet voice of hers…

You felt your breath catch in your throat as you anticipated her next words. The flutter in your chest made itself known again as the adrenaline left little room for shock when she’d eventually say them.

“Do you still want to sabotage a wedding?”

A heavy sigh freed the breath that had caught in your throat.

It dawned on you yet again. Hearing those words for a second time… You were going in circles. This really was nothing but a trap.

You didn’t know if she’d done it on purpose, if she lured you in or if she was just as stuck as you were—Hell, you didn’t even care.

You just needed to get out while you could.

So your hand found the key in the ignition, and it took no time for you to start the car up.

The sound of the engine revving as you prepared to leave triggered something in the woman sitting next to you. Something that made her heart race as she began mumbling something.

It seemed as though she was repeating something under her breath, her gaze out in the dark around you and absent like she’d retreated within her own mind.

Her words were loud enough for you to notice she was saying something, but not enough to understand it.

You froze at the scene, unsure if you should hear her out, reassure her or step on the gas. It was obvious what you should do, yet you couldn’t bring yourself to.

So she made you do it herself.

“I don’t want to go back!” She yelled over the engine, and grabbed onto your arm.

You let go of the key, her fingers tightening around your forearm as her eyes looked for yours.

“I don’t want to go back.” She repeated, her voice barely a whisper.

Your eyebrows furrowed, something you could only feel as your body reacted to her once more. You didn’t know what hurt more; seeing the tears pool in her eyes as she struggled to hold them back or her nails digging though the fabric and into your skin.

“Please...”

You couldn’t answer as something on her hand distracted you from the pain. Something shiny. A glimmer on her ring finger—most likely diamonds. Might as well have been rocks; it held no value in that so called promise between her and that man. At the least it didn’t for one of them.

You looked back at the bearer, your jaw tense as you thought. Your mind flashed back to mere moments ago. Why was she still wearing it? She had no right to. Not after leaving such betrayal on your lips.

“Then take it off.” You spoke up, your voice hoarse as if you’d been yelling for liberation.

Her mind was shaken, desperate to see through eyes that looked so unfamiliar now.

Your gaze was stern. It all looked blurry, as if you’d built a wall in front of what she had access to just moments ago…

“What?”

“The ring, Sana. Take it off.”

She barely glanced down at her own hand before looking back at you. The chuckle tasted bitter on your tongue.

“You can’t even face it.”

“That’s all I’ve been telling you.” She let out a defeated sob. “Why don’t you just do it for me?”

You looked back down at her hand, and her gaze followed yours to land there as well. She hated the sight of it. It felt as though it had been there forever.

All she dreamed about was taking it off.

All you had to do was take it off.

So you did, and finally slipped the ring off her finger, holding it between two of your own.

She mindlessly watched as your thumb and index rolled it around to observe it above the steering wheel. All that pain. All that torment. All because of a single, shiny metal ring.

“Doesn’t it feel lighter?” You spoke in an attempt to pull her out of her own mind. The last thing she needed was to get lost in it.

“I…” She trailed off, looking down at her hand, and finally seeing her finger naked in what felt like a lifetime. “It does.”

You trapped the jewel inside your fist, sighing as you leaned back against the back of your seat.

“What are you going to do now?”

“I don’t know.”

“Well…” Your hand found the commands of the automatic windows, pushing the button to roll yours down. “Whatever you do, you take care of yourself.”

Most people would have asked what the hell you were doing. If that ring didn’t hold any sentimental value, financially, it still held its own.

Not Sana, though. She didn’t seem phased by your action as she watched it land who knows where.

“Wait…” She trailed off, rewinding your words. “Are you not going to stick around?”

“I did all I could, Sana.” You started, your eyes focused out the open window as a breeze helped to dry off the tears before they even formed. “I kept my word and helped you. I took it off. But you’re gonna need to face him yourself.”

“But I can’t do it alone—“

“You have to.” You snapped, turning back to look at her. You ignored her lips parted in surprise, and continued. “If what I’ve learned about you in this short time is true, it’s the only way you’ll ever be free.”

“What have you learned?”

“Nothing.” You scoffed. “That’s why you have to do it. You’re the only one who actually knows how to deal with this. I can be by your side all you want, but I’ll never be any help. No one ever will.”

Your rant caused a small sob to escape her lips, and she ignored your surprise when she reached for your hand. You could only let her again, allowing yourself to relish in her touch and find pleasure in your body’s reactions to it.

You looked down at your joined hands, watching her intertwine them. You found yourself responding to her touch, your fingers closing around hers.

“Then at least stay.”

You softly caressed the top of her thumb, giving yourself some time to actually think before agreeing this time.

“On one condition.” You said, finding her eyes.

“What is it?”

You glanced down at your tangled hands.

It was an insane thing to look at. To feel. It didn’t make any sense. You’d only met her three days ago. You’d only spent an afternoon, part of an evening with her.

Yet so much happened. So much was felt.

You blinked, and her hand was still in yours. It felt good. But it lacked warmth.

It was telling.

At that moment in time, deep down, you knew this wouldn’t last.

Maybe you’ll part ways right after she’d break the engagement off. Maybe you’ll date and break up once you realise it was all comfort and reassurance disguising as love and affection. Maybe she won’t even break the engagement off.

Whatever the reason, you knew you wouldn’t see her at your wedding.

So you had to make one last thing clear.

“I keep the moonflowers.”

[silversweetpea]

Come Home

word count: 3798

summary: A nightmare is only a nightmare when viewed at the right perspective.

Warning: reader is sad and doesn’t like themselves a whole lot but there’s no outright self deprecation. 

author’s note: I am obsessed with the idea of Nightmare reader and the way that I just barely restrained myself from making this like a 30 chapter slow burn makes me feel like I have earned a little treat. A little reward if you will, so if you need me I will be writing up yet another self indulgent little story lmao. Also if anyone wants those thoughts on previous chapters of pining I cut so that this wasn’t insane I have so many thoughts please come talk to be about them holy shit.

❀✿❀✿ ❀✿❀✿ ❀✿❀✿ ❀✿❀✿ ❀✿❀✿ ❀✿❀✿

Nightmares weren’t designed to be loved. They weren’t even made to be thanked. You, in specific, would know that better than anyone else. And yet, standing on the outskirts of yet another beautiful party for yet another beautiful couple, it was easy to ignore the sting in the back of your throat and the way that you could feel the vines curling around your heart. 

You were made in the image of love unrequited, you had always known that. But the waking world was bursting with love and at least this way you were able to stand in its afterglow. 

The bride and groom were beaming, radiant in their joy. There was a moment where you were worried about the state of things when it started to drizzle but there had been backup plans ready, tents secured, and smiles on everyone’s faces.

“It’s good luck,” The bride had giggled when you did your final pre-ceremony check in with her. The woman couldn’t be older than her early twenties and yet for just a moment you could see the echoes of all the brides you had assisted. Young and old but always beautiful in their joy. eighty years was a long time to stay in the same field, to keep mysteriously appearing at just the right time, and yet you couldn’t resist it. 

The plate in your hand was easily placed in reach of a wandering child, sure they would get far more enjoyment from the sugar rush than you would. You lingered long enough to look at the couple again, to rest in their warmth and imagine for just a moment that you could have that someday too.

And then there was a cough that began to threaten to rip through your throat and you were moving again. It was better that way anyhow. 

“He’s not coming back for you, don’t you get that? He’s not coming back for any of us. You might as well see the world, have a little fun.” The Corinthian was the closest thing you had to a friend these days which meant that even after months of silence between you two, his voice lingered in the corners of your mind. 

It didn’t help that he didn’t understand your need to be so close to humanity and you didn’t know how to explain it. Not to someone who had always been content with his purpose in the dreaming. Hell, the only reason he had ever found to venture further than it’s boundaries was because he wanted more of the world to see him and what he could do. Corinthian loved, you knew he did, but it wasn’t the sort of endless ace that you were forced to chase for all of time simply by virtue of being alive.

Still, you thought of calling him. Especially when the man in a suit similar to his tailed you from the reception.

“Hey! You’re the planner right?” Nightmares could recognize one another plain enough for you to know that the groomsman meant no harm in chasing after you. Unfortunately that did little to ease the annoyance at his questions and when you turned to face him the most you could manage was a thin smile. 

“That’s me.” His eyes were bright, almost the same shade of Dream’s the last time you had spoken to him. There were no stars there though, no depth to the waters. His hair was several shades lighter and much shorter, his posture more outward than your king would have ever been with you. 

“I just wanted to...” he struggled for a minute before you could see the lightbulb go off. “I just wanted to say thank you for your help in the wedding. It was really great and I know that Garrett and Anna wouldn’t have been nearly as prepared without you.”

“Just doing my job.” He didn’t need to know that you weren’t paid, that you had no intention of being paid other than the slice of cake. You never were. You had plenty of money and the fewer ways for people to prove you existed the easier it was to convince them you didn’t. That their friends were actually the planners along with some strangly helpful staff at the locations. 

“I, uhm, never got your name,” Josh. That was his name. He wasn’t the best man but he was fairly close with the groom. There was a split second where you allowed yourself to imagine what would happen if you introduced yourself. The few weeks of easy affection and the hope, however brief, that you would finally find use for the bouquet within your ribs. Poppies could represent something soft and romantic instead of a constant reminder that you were left behind. Abandoned on a windowsill to wilt.

But you had played that game before and eventually the thorns would grow too big or you would pull away from a kiss to watch them pull petals from their mouth. And then when you left, the ache would be so intense you were sure it would kill you. 

“You didn’t need it.” The gap closed between the two of you just enough to give him a pat on the shoulder before leaving. You didn’t look back at him as you waved. “Goodnight Josh.”

He was still standing there when you pulled out of the parking lot. New York didn’t feel nearly as big as it used to as you pulled up to your apartment and went through the motions of packing up. Four years on the dot. More than enough time to make a name for yourself that you could use as reference when you arrived wherever you were going. 

Instead you ran a bath of scalding water and lingered in the water until you could convince yourself that the brief flicker of warmth you felt was not Dream reappearing in the waking world after a century of silence, but rather that it was just the water. There was no love for nightmares, no matter where you went that was true, and if there was to be no love for you in either realm at least in the world of the waking you could peek through the windows at its beauty.

There was, however, voices in the living room that shouldn’t be. It was hard to make out the words but you knew the deep baritone and creaking of floorboards were not from the television. You hadn’t even brushed by the thing since yesterday evening when you finished your last minute paperwork.

Pajamas were slipped into quickly and quietly, footsteps muffled from the towel you’d placed on the ground to absorb any of the water spilled from your movement in the bath. Your throat burns with the scratching of vines creeping up it and your hand shakes as you hover over the doorknob. You don’t fear whoever is on the other side, you worry for them. To be buried in flowers sounds so beautiful until you see it happen. 

“Are you sure about this boss?” You don’t know the voice, but there’s a strange chirp like sound at the end of his sentence. There’s no malice but the words do quiver slightly. Whatever his boss is doing is making him nervous. 

You don’t wait for his boss to respond before opening the door and allowing the thorny vines that had been writhing under your skin to pierce through. The petals that suffocated you were flowing freely from your mouth, piling up at your feet. 

The man in front of you doesn’t budge from the monstrous image and when you manage to look him in the eye, the thorns retreat.

“What are you doing here?” It’s your turn for your voice to shake as you look at Dream. He seems tired, but not ill, gaunt but strong enough to demand respect in the center of your living room. Behind him is a raven, not jessamy but you knew how to recognize the king’s familiars in moments.

Dream doesn’t respond, voice just as you remembered it the last time you spoke over a hundred years ago. For his part, he says nothing about what the piles of petals at your feet or the way your jaw drops open. The last time you had seen him plays in snapshots in your mind. 

“All I have ever asked was that you let me have some semblance of a home. I have lingered at the edge of your shadow for millennia and all I have to show for it is the same empty chasm within myself that I had upon my first breath!”

His features were just as hard as they had been then. Except for the fact that he had his hands hidden from you now. Tucked away into the pockets of his jacket, eyes softer than was warranted for a nightmare. Morpheus loved all of the dreaming, but he was never soft with a nightmare, it isn’t what you were made for.

“We can talk about this when I return.”

“Corinthian told me you have begun to use a new name,” He speaks as if this was a social call. Nothing more than two friends catching up together instead of a call for you to return to your duties or a warning of your punishment to come from leaving your post. Its all you can do to move far enough into the living room to rest your weight against an armchair.

“Yeah, I have. I found that (Y/n) fit me a bit better than Isolation.” The raven gave a startled sort of noise, head whipping between the two of you before falling back into silence. “I’m sorry, you’re new right?”

“Yeah, sorry. Name’s Mathew,” It suited him. Names usually did. Perhaps that was why Dream was still staring at you with that closed book expression regarding your new title. The warm lights of your apartment looked strange on his cool toned skin. Your life here had been built up in such a carefully human way that you weren’t sure that he was really there at all. Mathew looked like he belonged on your couch more and he was a literal raven. 

Your chest aches again. To know that Dream is so close, that his whole attention is on you for however brief a moment, it’s intoxicating. It’s also suffocating.

“Well, is there a point to this call?” There are snappier responses on the tip of your tongue but you can’t will them into existance. Not when your king, the only person you have ever truly longed for, was taking such slow and graceful steps in your direction.

“(Y/n),” your voice sounds like a prayer on his lips. You had chosen it for yourself because you loved it but that love is easy to grow accustomed to, to take for granted. To hear Dream say your name is to fall in love all over again, both with your self chosen identity and the king who spoke as if you were something precious he couldn’t afford to loose. “I would like for you to come home.”

You will. His hand moves from his pocket to rest in the air, palm up. You know, despite only having brushed by his hands with your own on rare occasions, that his skin will be cool to the touch, near freezing given that your skin was still steaming from the bath. 

Mathew watches the two of you, you wonder what he must think to see someone stare so intensely at Lord Morpheus’ hand.

“Why did you abandon us?” the room chills by several degrees but you don’t look away from the extended hand that stays just in your reach. “I would rather have been unmade on the spot where I stood than spent a hundred years thinking that you just didn’t care enough to come back and finish the job.”

“I have always cared for you, I care for all of the Dreaming.” A single cough, enough to dislodge a stray petal that you pull from your mouth with little more than a sad scoff. 

“I know. Gods I know you care, that’s what hurt the worst. I know I’m not made to be loved or cherished like a dream is, like you are, but when you said you were coming back to talk to me I had hoped-” the words die on your tongue. You were willing to reveal more than you had ever before, but some things were still too personal to put into the air. You can only imagine the chaos that could be inflicted by someone like Desire should they catch you straying too close to their realm.

The silence is heavy and you can’t tell if you would rather it end or stretch forever. At least in this space of in between he hadn’t confirmed your fears yet. The petal you had been playing with was slowly picked from your grasp and it looked even more fragile in Dream’s touch. 

“Was I really so cruel that you would think so little of me?” His voice is little more than a whisper. In fact you weren’t sure that Mathew was able to hear the two of you all. That was probably for the best though given that you were currently struggling to breathe once more and barely managed to sputter out a word before being cut off once more.

“Little-”

“You came to me with a problem and I had every intent on fixing it.” His gaze burns into you but there’s no bravery left to meet him. You just accept that he is examining you. If his face was the opposite of the careful regret in his voice you’re not sure you wanted to see it anyhow.

“You’re a king. You’re able to do whatever you want and that didn’t include finding me.” The floorboards crack as Dream moves closer again. It’s just another foot or so but you can nearly feel the brush of his jacket against you where it sways.

“It was not for a lack of wanting to search,” Mathew shuffles a bit on the couch behind Dream. Does he know who you are? If he doesn’t, who does he think he is meeting? In the time that you look away to Mathew your king moves ever closer. A single hand reaches up to your cheek at the speed which would make the erosion of stone feel like a flash in the pan of time. “I should not have made you in this image.”

“But you did.” You sound as breathless as you feel and can’t help but close your eyes at the intimacy of the moment. Millenia of longing, of starvation for the barest of touches had left you in this predicament. You can feel every atom of where you end and he began and wished that you could press those atoms even closer together to close whatever space remained between you for this moment.

“Yes.” A second hand comes up as the first lowers, both of them cupping your face. You can feel Dream’s breath on your skin but you still fear what you may find in his eyes if you look.

“Why?”

It takes him longer than you thought it would to answer and you swallow no less than three budding flowers in that time. Stress had never seemed to activate the more painful parts of your condition before and yet now you were sure that it did.  

“Because when you were made, I was alone and that had seemed the worst nightmare of all. And now that I am not I see that I was correct.” There’s a flutter of wings that draws your attention and Mathew, who just a split second before had seemed to be elated with something, now turned his head down sheepishly.

It’s enough to make you smile, which is enough to give you the strength to look him in the eyes. Dream’s eyes have always been that which you admired most about him. No matter the color or shape his eyes always seem to hold infinite depths within them. Morpheus was the Dreaming and his eyes were the ocean which never quite calmed enough to navigate safely.

“Glad to be of service your majesty.” The title causes a twist, nearly imperceivably, in his expression. Had you not been watching the man so closely you would have missed it you were sure. The hands do not leave your face and for a second you allow yourself to daydream of leaning forward, of kissing him. 

“You have done more than I could have asked of you, (Y/n), It is time to rest.” His hands are cool on your face and cool where you rest your own hands over them, a silent ask for him not to withdraw, not to leave you alone in your own skin again. “Please, come home. Let me remake you into something less cruel.”

It should make you nervous, the thought of being unmade. It should drive you to the brink of fear and anger and cause you to run or fight but instead you imagine living without the burden of want and your body relaxes. 

“Do you promise it will be kind?” If Dream had been mortal he would not have heard you. It’s little more than a thought, your lips barely move. But Dream is not mortal and your eyes close just as soon as he nods, eyes still locked in on yours.

“You have both my word,” his voice deepened and the volume dropped as you feel his lips press to your forehead ever so lightly. “and my deepest apologies.”

The magic of the moment lingers as you feel yourself slinking into the dark of the void beyond. It isn’t particularly cold or particularly warm but you feel something you can only attribute as peace as you faded into the depths.

Being born again is as easy as waking up. The first sound is the crashing of waves on a familiar shore and the first smell is salt and water. Your new eyes’ first sight is so similar to your old ones that you’re almost not sure that this isn’t a memory for a moment.

But then Dream smiles, small and questioning in its silence, and something in you melts. Your hand moves to cover your mouth on instinct only to find...nothing. No petals. No torn up mouth. No vines. 

Through your self exploration, the turn you make as you look for any sign of nightmare within yourself and the laughter that builds slowly but surely until you can’t keep it in anymore, Morpheus says nothing. You’re not sure how long you stand there because time has always been such a nebulous concept in the Dreaming, and yet you know that it’s long enough for you to make yourself dizzy from the spinning.

“What’s my title?” The king finally seems to snap out of whatever daze he had found himself in while you looked over the familiar build. From what you could tell it was exactly the same save for the self consuming flowers that threatened to rip yourself apart from the inside.

"Anything you would like it to be,” You spin again, elated at the ability to move without the feeling of constriction around your bones. Dream’s voice is warm and you can hear the smile again as you stumble to a stop, closer than you would have ever dared without an excuse to fall back on. An excuse you wouldn’t need if the sudden presence of a cool hand against your hip to steady you was any sign of approval. The closeness makes it hard to focus on air again, caught instead by the intensity of the look leveled your way. “You told me that you would grant me anything I asked of you, and yet you never stopped to wonder why I could not bring myself to ask.”

Your hand shakes as you bring it to his face as he did to yours in the waking world. Every moment is slow in case he were to change his mind, to give him a opportunity to pull away. Dream doesn’t though and to feel him lean into your touch is enough to make you giddy all over again. It makes it easier to ignore the way that your stomach has begun doing summersaults at the thought that your longing had been but one side of a window for all this time.

“I didn’t think you wanted anything I had to offer.”

“I wanted everything you had to offer and then some. I would have destroyed you.” It’s a statement, a fact. And yet you can’t help but take a step closer into his personal space, to lean more into him and see if he would support you. Dream does, without question or comment. 

“Maybe. But I would have taken it nonetheless.” A second hand joined the first on the opposite hip and now that you were secure and there was no way to run from the situation you had found yourself in there was a spark of bravery in your veins. Not quite enough to lean forward and kiss him yet, but enough that despite his gaze you didn’t shy away from openly admiring him. “I still would if you offered.”

“And if I offered a place at my side instead?”  There’s quiet again. Morpheus holding your hips and you holding his face and the neither of you speaking, just swaying ever so slightly in the wind.

“I would take it.” Tension slips away at the confession. A small release in the lines of his brow and an easier lilt to his smile. “You could ask me to be your advisor or your jester alike and I would accept either with the same optimism.”

“And if I would ask to court you?” The kings voice isn’t scared, but it is cautious. His words even slower, his swaying stopping long enough for him to make eye contact during which he seems to search your very being.

“Dream,” The gaze doesn’t break. “Morpheus, I would give you everything I am for nothing more than a moment with you.”

The silence returns just for a beat, something you can hear unobstructed from within your chest for the first time. And then, like the sun rising over the horizon, a smile lights up Dream’s face as he leans his face ever nearer your own.

“Is that a yes?” You can feel his words against your lips for how close you two are and you can only hope that when you close that final gap he doesn’t doubt your answer too terribly much.

Although, if he did you had some ideas on how to convince him.

[ineffable-opinions]

In the year of dragon, I wish they retained Mungkorn (มังกร) instead of translating it to 'dragon' in the 2nd episode of Love Sea.

For context, I'm referring to the scene where Rak speaks about public reaction to his writing:

I just wanted to share a story I loved with like-minded people. But as the reader base grew, some groups of people started finding faults with it. "Why did this character do that?"

It's just like when people ask why there are dragons in a fantasy world. Because it's a fantasy world, so of course it has dragons. Illogical things... can only happen in fictional worlds.

While there is nothing wrong with the translation as such, some cultural nuance is missing. Firstly, fire-breathing western dragons and auspicious (and political claw count) eastern conception of "dragons" are different in many ways.

Mungkorn also has an important place in Thai culture and politics.

So it is understandable that having mungkorn in fantasy fiction would be different from having dragon in fantasy fiction.

Here's an excerpt from Thai BL authors' interviews with scholar Jooyin Saejang quoted in the 2023 paper Chinese Historical BL by Thai Writers: The Thai BL Polysystem in the Age of Media Convergence

Writer B, too, penned Chinese historical BL not only because she liked Chinese historical dramas that often feature extravagant settings and costumes, but also because she could use 'their history and beliefs as storytelling materials without worrying about any "drama". For example, if I want my male protagonist to be a ruling monarch, I can do it [in a Chinese setting], but if I do it in a historical Thai setting … [laughs].' Writer B added that:

Actually, it's not just politics. Religious beliefs are also the same. For instance, I write about Chinese gods and spirits, I can reference the Bodhisattva without worrying about any drama because it is fantasy. But if I use the Bodhisattva in a Thai setting, then I might face a backlash like 'why did you do this to other people's belief?' It is more sensitive. I feel like when everything I include is historical Chinese, then people will understand that it's just fiction, just fantasy. They can see it as unrealistic. I read a novel like this but set in Thailand before. It touched on people's religious beliefs, so the reception was not so good. A lot of people were against it because it was in their daily life. They didn't want anyone to touch on it. It was their belief.

When asked why she did not attempt a Thai BL period drama, Writer C similarly cited historical China's affordance of surrealism which allowed her to avoid any backlash.

With historical China, I can portray things that are surreal. There are eras that have Chinese gods, spirits, and demons. If you ask me why I won't write a Thai BL period story, mainly because I am not well-versed in Thai history and because historical Thailand is quite sensitive in Thai society. Anything about Thai is very sensitive. We cannot do anything with it. If I do something with it, there will be those curious people who are always like, 'Why is it like this? Why is it like that? No, it shouldn't be like this. It should be like that.' Cut to the Chinese historical setting, I claim that it's about gods and spirits, then nobody will question me. Or even if there is, I can argue that my story is not based on anything. Don't use it for your history test.

-

As with gong shou convo in Unknown, imo, this translation too defeats the purpose of the scene.

[kingsandbastardz]

fic prompt: hair combing in the wedding chamber

01 li lianhua

the existence of a torture chamber beside the wedding bedroom and its contents shouldn’t be a surprise at this point. and yet… it’s the redundancy you find offensive. she has a multi-chamber dungeon. she has a water chamber in her own quarters. why must it extend here as well? you despise the sight of unmarked bottles sitting ominously on a small table beside a decorative chair. they’re placed in front of an x-shaped rack fitted with iron ankle and wrist cuffs. there are hooks freshly installed in the ceiling.

you hear rattling and di feisheng is beside you, his expression neither upset nor surprised. just blankly contemplative. he kicks lightly at a thick gauge iron chain on the floor comb in hand and his hair thrown over one shoulder. he looks around the room, eyes unfocused -- you’re not sure he’s actually seeing anything -- the snapping sounds as he rips the comb through a knot in his hair grates against your nerves.

you don’t want to be here anymore than you want him here – so you hold your hand out in front of his face and say, “give me that. i can’t stand watching you – do you want to go bald?”

it is a moment too long before he finally looks at you and the comb is deposited silently in your hand. you lead him to the table in the bedroom. on the way, you spot his hair ornament on a shelf and grab it.

at least while sitting, he’s tall enough that combing his hair is an intimacy that is easy on the arms. you’ve done this for a handful of others. your shiniang, your past lovers. your once-brother. now it is di feisheng’s still-damp hair you run your fingers and a comb through. silkier than zhan yunfei’s, more voluminous than qiao wanmian’s. its weight sits in your hand and tangles your fingers with the same tenacity of a spider’s web.

the knots cling, every bit as stubborn as their owner. was he born like this? or was this a learned trait? has he ever regretted a decision?

this man has followed you across the world – with or without his memories, every bit as dogged and loyal as fang duobing. ever single-minded in purpose. the affection he makes you feel has always been uncontrollable. you want to resent him as much as you feel fondness, but in the end, the fondness always wins out.

you tie his hair back and lock the familiar silver ornament in place, sliding the pin through the knot. (you bought this for him. with your own money, even, and not xiaobao’s.)

he twists around to look up at you – eyes open and clear in a way no one with his personal history should be able to. you’ve never once felt this unburdened. years ago, you and lao di were both in the middle of puberty, youths, barely old enough or tall enough to count as adults.  he looked up at you back then, in the same way, as you looked down from the trees. he never had to say or do anything to capture your attention. he just gazed straight into you, soft, open, and entirely receptive to anything you wanted to throw at him.

what else could you do?

you hit him with your very best.

xiaobao understands you like no one else. but this one – this one never cared about any of the things the world wanted from you. he didn’t see the future. he didn’t see potential. he didn’t see the power you wielded for the benefit of everyone. he saw only the you that stood in front of him. nothing more, nothing less.

and now? you know what he wants because you want it too. even now, there are moments you can hear the clang of sword, smell the burn of sparked sword oil, feel the heady rush of bloodlust. you crave the razor-sharp clarity that overtakes you as you take flight and know the man following you will be able to keep pace no matter where you go and what you do. you can let go. you don’t have to hold back anymore.

he sees you the way no one else does and you want him to see you that way again. you want to see him on the other side of your crossed blades and to find your steps again in the sky unburdened by lies or death. you want the life you could have had together.

there was a time, you could have dreamed of fighting together. eating together. watching as his hair turned white to match yours.

but you can’t. you only have memories left of that old you and the bitter flavor of passed time.

if only you had met again 10 years ago. or even 5 years ago, once your rage had burnt its way out of your heart and bones.

you can’t afford to want what di feisheng wants. (but you do. you want it. it burns worse than poison.)

tonight.

tonight, under the influence of good wine and the warmth of shared smiles, you will pretend you have the luxury of health and time.

tonight, you will pretend you are living the life you should have – a life free of shan gudao's shadow and without regrets.

--

02 di feisheng

you are tortured your whole life and for a moment, you actually die; but you are alive now and stronger than ever. you drink wine with a loved one and he smiles in shared understanding (finally, after all these years. you’ve waited for him.)

the suffering was worth it if that is what brings you both to this moment.

under the moon’s blessing, you smile back and for the first time in your life, you hope for the future.

[freyjalumiere]

The magical love of the twin flames

The spiritual world is far more interesting that what we might probably think.

We heard a lot about the concept of soulmates, those souls who are always in our journey and can be from our parents, siblings, friends and even our pets. A soulmate is not just one soulmate who shares a bond with us but in fact the number of soulmates we have is difficult to know.

The twin flame on the other hand is our other half with an intense soul connection. Is the opposite of our soul but with the same essence. Let's make the example by this: we have a pizza. There are not other pizza made in such way and the ingredients are so unique. In the moment we cut it in two pieces, the ingredients are still unique but each left with different proportions of those ingredients. The two pieces are different but still the same.

The two parts go in different paths and journey but belong to each other. Both pieces can't stop but trying to find away to return back to the other.

I was a helpless in love about love even if I was always single and I remember always dreaming about the moment I could find that other half of me. I am alway very receptive when I go to sleep and is in the dream realm where I get most of my prophetic dreams. One night asking about that other part of me, I had a dream. My Twin Flame was with me, he was giving me the strongest hug that it felt even after I woke up. I couldn't see his face, only that was a very tall and strong shadow.

Where one can find our Twin Flame in Astrology?

As i am on my big journey in this amazing study of astrology I believe the information about our Twin Flame can be found in the Draconic Chart but we have to understand something and not everyone have a Twin Flame. That is because some souls haven't the experience yet of the separation. In those cases the Draconic Chart, depending of the individual, represents a past life or the soul journey.

That is because there are some souls who doesn't have a past life and they have their first time coming on earth. Just like in my case while using the Norns asteroids of the past, present and future. My past and my present is the same, showing me that this is my first time here. Also why my dominant planet in my birth chart is Pluto, I am having a non stop transformation (as if my soul is trying to catch up with the old souls who have more reincarnations).

Having your Twin Flame in the Draconic Chart also doesn't mean the person will have to go and search for the meeting, that is because sometimes one of the half can be on earth (material world) while the other can be on the spiritual world. Sometimes the life purpose is to learn and develop independently on earth.

The only important here about the Twin Flames is the unique and strong love of the two souls.

[mythicamagic]

Skin Hunger: a Xiaolumi oneshot

Summary: When immortals fall in love with each other, they have all the time in the world to explore their relationship; but first comes the insecurities.

Totally inspired by this - gorgeous fanart

--------

Warning: some angst. No smut despite the nudity.

Xiao had witnessed enough mortal dreams to somewhat understand their desires, no matter what shape they took. Mora, fame, greed…

This was no different when it came to pleasures of the flesh. Two mortal lovers alone, and naked as they were now- would probably rush to embrace and fornicate.

Things were never that simple when it came to himself and Lumine. He should've known by now not to judge her by human standards.

They'd been caught together in the middle of a downpour near Guili Plains. Lumine had grabbed his hand, making a mad dash through the pelting rain toward an inn in the distance.

He'd followed without a word, unable to remind her of his teleportation abilities when she squealed and laughed so elatedly. 

They'd been received with a warm welcome by the innkeeper and provided with a fresh set of clothes each. Unfortunately, there was only a single room left available and no catering service since it was so late at night- but Lumine had accepted it without a second thought. 

He could see her profile now, hidden behind a partition screen in their bedroom. The warm orange glow of the lamps backlit her silhouette as her back arched. She stripped out of her soaked dress with a soft sigh.

Xiao fell still. His heartbeat stumbled. The rain was a gentle, tinkling patter in his ears, like playful fingers drumming on the roof tiles. 

Distant thunder boomed, signalling a storm's steady approach.

A good lover would have joined her by now. Lumine would be receptive. She wasn’t stupid: the show was meant to entice him. 

Xiao remained where he was. Pale, damp skin gleamed in the moonlight as he shifted his weight. His soaked clothes lay in a heap at his feet. He should change now. The innkeeper was nice enough to provide a Changshan. Their kindness should not be squandered.

'You are a coward.’

'The little Adeptus is too frightened to touch his woman. Scared you'll cover her in your filth?'

'Heh- should set her free already. You're a burden to her and everyone who knows of your pathetic existence. Disgusting. Weak.'

'She claims to love you but she knows nothing. Poor girl. Remember the time you ripped open a girl with blonde hair just like her? Those soft locks fell through your fingers so sweetly-'

Old memories assaulted Xiao's mind. He hissed out a breath, bowing his head and gnashing sharpening teeth together. He tried to focus on something else. Block out the karmic influences with good memories; the feast among friends at Liyue Harbour, lively conversations, Lumine's smile.

All of it paled to the tidal wave of loathing that swept through him. Lumine's enticing silhouette looked so far away right then. The cosy room way as well have stretched for miles.

Xiao looked down at his hands, sweat beading on his brow. He so rarely took his gloves off. Callouses and scars stared back at him, old and new. He'd dug those hands into skulls and stomachs once upon a time- ripped dreams and souls asunder in equal measure. Weapons were twirled through those fingers before they'd plunged into hide or bone. He'd clawed into blood-streaked snow just to shove it into his mouth and eat something. Anything. His former master had purposely starved him so that even snow felt like a treat.

Xiao shook his head, trying to calm his breathing. That was a long time ago now. 

'Yet it never stops running through your mind. There's more to consider too. You've waded waist-deep through the remains of Gods. You will never be clean.'

'You would inflict all that you are onto her? Infect her with your disease?”

“The selfish Yaksha who should be dead commits more sins, still. Your greed knows no bounds.'

The cool air settling on his nude form began to feel sickening. How could he ever think to touch another with a body as disgusting as his? He wasn’t even human. He was-

"Xiao."

A presence drew near. Xiao felt rather than saw how the air shifted. He sensed hands rising. Hands usually meant striking and clawing. Touch was for violence.

He sucked in a sharp breath, flinching as fingers lightly touched his collarbone. They brushed against the necklace around his neck that suddenly felt so very heavy. 

Xiao pried his eyes open, only to meet glimmering gold.

Lumine was there, completely bare and standing in the darkness with him. Her eyes held him captive in the gloom. Twin pools of warmth beckoned with all the welcome reprieve of a hearth offering sanctuary from the storm. 

"Has anyone ever told you how beautiful you are?" She hummed, tilting her head with a smile. 

She always did say the most unfathomable things. Of course they hadn't. Only the foolish would call a bad omen beautiful. 

The beads clinked in her hands as she lifted them overhead- 

And everything in him held its breath. Xiao tensed up as the necklace was removed. He felt lost without it. Fumbling as if blind. He needed the necklace to aid him with exercising evil spirits. 

But that kind touch returned quickly. First at his shoulder, giving a squeeze that grounded him. The second is a light drag up his spine, settling beneath his shoulder blade. 

She knew. Of course she knew what heavy thoughts were holding him under. Perhaps that was why Lumine pressed herself against him of her own accord. 

Her kiss shocked him completely awake to the world of the living. Kind, soft lips ghosted along his neck in a gentle trail. Their chests met snugly, stomachs bumping. 

Xiao was wrapping his arms around her before he could even realize. It felt bizarre to be so close and vunerable. Strange on a whole other level. 

But it was also right and warm and tender. Lumine wrapped her arms around his neck in turn, stroking his damp, feathery hair. 

"It's alright now," she murmured. "You're alright. Whatever you were thinking about…you know it's not true. I’m here.”

His heart dithered and fluttered like a nervous bird. He expected to feel caged. Trapped. There is no such emotion to be found inside Lumine's arms. Xiao buried his face in the juncture between her shoulder and neck, inhaling. She smelled like petrichor and carried the scent of foreign flowers. He clutched her tighter if possible.

"Mn," his body wilted with the force of his sigh. "I know."

Lumine fell silent for a while, just holding him. Occasionally he felt kisses press to his neck, ear or shoulder- but it wasn’t a sign to hurry up and return her affection. The Traveller was always patient. Whatever she gave; she did so freely, without expectation he do the same. That was why their initial friendship had felt so…comfortable. 

No one had ever wanted to be around Xiao without demanding something of him. For some reason, however, she’d kept reaching out- an enigmatic smile on her face. Initially, he’d thought her strange, then slightly bossy, before finally settling on mysterious the second she’d told him stories of her past; how she’d journeyed beyond distant stars and witnessing their end. As an enigma- she only grew all the more perplexing when asking him to date her all those months ago.

His hands finally moved, sliding down Lumine’s back and running over her shoulder blades contemplatively. 

"That tickles," she giggled softly. Hot breath fanned over his ear, eliciting a shudder. "What's wrong? Are you looking for something?"

Xiao closed his eyes. She really had no idea of the effect she had on him. Was he allowed to be this happy? This content? It felt effortless with her, like breathing. Surely that wasn’t right. Nothing was ever this easy. "You said you had wings once. I was just wondering if you had any scarring…I'm sorry if that was presumptuous of me. "

"Don't be silly. And you don't need to be so formal, Xiao. Especially not when we're holding each other like this." A laugh was in her voice. It livened his heart to hear it. 

"The wings were more like…crystalflies. They were thin and shimmered like gossamer. You won't find any lost remnants of them on my back but I miss them all the same."

This gave him pause. Lumine often gently encouraged him in many ways, especially with verbally expressing his desires. However, she herself rarely took her own advice. "You miss flying…"

"Yes,” she murmured, a rare moment of visible melancholy passing over her face- but her expression shuttered as she quickly moved on. “How about you? As an illuminated beast- and a bird at that- you must have wings. Pretty ones, I’d wager."

He scoffed. "Don't speak of these matters so simply. Adepti are not like regular birds."

Lumine bobbed her head seriously. "True. You're much better.”

"I didn’t mean it like- gn…" he trailed off, clenching his jaw as she pressed a smile against his neck. Damn her. His face grew warm. In retribution for her little tease, he tightened one arm around her waist and teased the curve of her ear with a much needed nibble- thrilled by her ensuing yelp. 

The rain pelting the rooftop above their heads and crawling rumble of thunder felt muted in comparison to Lumine’s little noises. All he could see and feel was her, but he knew she’d done that on purpose. All of this; her embrace, kisses and conversation- were designed to put his mind elsewhere. Away from the smell of copper on snow.

Lithe fingers combed through his hair again as if on cue.

"Are you feeling okay now?"

"Yes," he rasped out quietly. "I always do, with you. It might take time, but eventually…when I feel you or hear your voice, it has a calming effect. To this day, I do not understand why."

She gave a soft laugh at that. “You’ll find the answer, one day.”

“Lumine.”

Xiao pulled away, gazing quietly at the woman in his arms. In truth, she could have almost anyone she wanted. The Traveller was not in want of suitors. Many offered to help her with commissions but she always took him along instead. 

He lifted a hand and ghosted his thumb across her lip once, before pressing down a little firmer and swiping it back, watching with fascination how she parted her mouth. Her lips looked so glossy under his touch, soft and yielding. Her cheeks grew red as they sometimes did in his presence. 

“I told you before that I was unfamiliar with the human concept of dating, or even taking a lover. As I am now…does it not frustrate you?”

Lumine sobered. She smiled and took his hand, shifting the palm to cradle her cheek as she leaned into it. “No. It never will. You’re worth the wait, Xiao- and we have more than enough time. Don’t rush things just because you think it would make me happy, that’s just a surefire way to make me sad,” she gave a wan smile, pressing kisses to his fingers. “You always put everyone else first, at the cost of yourself.”

Funny, he saw her the exact same way. 

Xiao fell into a contemplative silence, busying himself with stroking the length of her spine and revelling in her warm body pressed up against his. Lumine’s heartbeat thundered strong and fast. 

Perhaps the reality of their shared nudity had finally caught up to her. That heartbeat thudded a little quicker- before she pulled away a little in his arms. “Ah, now that I think about it- the room is getting pretty chilly. Let me grab a blanket for us-”

“Hold still a moment.”

Lumine quietly gasped as air rushed past her cheek. Something shot out around her, arching high overhead. Twin masses of dark feathers streaked with teal snapped open like regal fans, scooping her closer and threatening it sweep her feet out from under her. 

Proof of many hard-won battles lay bare on his body, but it was also a canvas of past sins. This was most prevalent on Xiao’s wings. What had once arched upward with fine pride and full plumage now looked bedraggled. To even the most untrained eye, one could correctly surmise they’d been torn once upon a time and then struggled to heal. 

Lumine beheld them with awe. She didn’t move from his embrace again, but reached out to stroke the cocoon of tattered feathers. 

“Amazing,” escaped her lips. “I knew they’d be pretty.”

His stomach twisted. He could bear her compliments for most things, but not for this. He hadn’t unfolded his wings in what felt like a millennia.

“I only brought them out because you seemed cold. It was not for praise,” he muttered. 

“That’s okay, they’re still worthy of it,” Lumine reached out, splaying her hands against the primaries and smoothing her touch down to the secondaries. Despite their bedraggled appearance, she seemed unfazed. “Do you not like them?”

His brows pulled down, complicated emotions flitting through his eyes even as his face remained largely passive. “You see the bright colour of my tattoo?” he nodded to his arm, waiting for her attention to return to him. “That was the original hue of my feathers,” Xiao uttered in a tight voice, avoiding her gaze. “So it was with my hair as well.”

Karma and other less-than-pleasant effects had seeped into him. His hair could pass for natural, but there was no hiding the effect of his deep-rooted filth when it came to his wings. If Xiao morphed forms completely and returned to his original state as a crane, the reflection he’d behold in the water would likely be a stranger.

Something bumped his lips once- and then again, longer. He blinked, becoming still as he focused on Lumine’s kiss. Before he could think to respond, she pulled away. 

"I didn't know you before, so I can only go off what I know,” Lumine lay a hand over his tattoo, gazing into his eyes meaningfully as she gave it a squeeze. “I love how you look now- even if you've changed."

Xiao stared. His breath caught in the back of his throat. He didn't know what to say to that. His eyes stung- throat becoming tight. Her unending acceptance of him, no matter the flaws or danger, was hard to grasp sometimes. He'd be thinking about her words for weeks after she'd spoken them.

He wanted to make her as happy as she made him- but lacked the knowledge of how to.

The only thing he could think of was to replicate her kindness. 

He took an unsteady breath. "I-it's the same for me."

"Hm?"

He gestured to her back, feeling heat warm his face. "With your lack of wings. I didn't know you then, so to me, you are not 'lacking' anything. "

Lumine blinked, lips pressing together as if fighting a big smile. "Hey don't steal my lines."

"Hm, too late," golden eyes glittered.

With a giggle, she sank right back into his arms, looping both arms around his neck and cuddling close. "Thank you all the same," came her muffled reply. Xiao’s teal lashes swept shut, breathing in her scent once more and curling his fingers into her hair. He pressed his forehead against the locks with all the reverence of a worshipper. For his kind; the act would be akin to the deepest form of affection, but she likely didn’t know that and he wouldn’t tell her- so as ever, his feelings remained unspoken.

At her suggestion, they finally moved to the bed and curled around one another for warmth. Cocooned in a nest of dark teal feathers and buttery blond hair, whispered immortal sentiments were exchanged, stories told and kisses traded- until Teyvats distant sun crested the hills once more.

End

[tarotbydelilah444]

💞✨What Next In Love + Advice

This pac reading is dedicated to all the singles out there that may be interested in a new beginning in love. Some piles may also resonate for those who have someone in mind already, but this reading is designed specifically for singles. Hope you enjoy this reading and make sure you like, share, and follow for more content. As always, sending you love and light 🤍✨ - Delilah

pile 1 | be your own sunshine, baby

crystal | chrysocolla | chrysocolla aids you in allowing you to communicate and express your feelings and needs in a loving, yet honest way without being swayed by aggression, anger, judgement, or fear. This precious stone helps you release any guilt, resentment, and any negative emotions that blocks your heart space to allow you to open fully and be open to receive love. Perfect stone for those on a self-love journey and tapping into your divine feminine energy.

oracle messages | dance & sun | you may have issues with expressing yourself, or you restrict yourself from showing up in the world. Your light needs and wants to be shown to the world, but you have hidden it away or you are too afraid to let it shine. You have so much to offer the world, and you should stop holding yourself back. Stop dimming your light for yourself and for others because you are meant to be seen. You are being encouraged to get out and have fun and express your true and authentic self without shame.

what’s next in love | 3 of cups | how can you find love if you don’t allow yourself to get out. Love doesn’t show up at your front door, sometimes you have to make your own luck. Take yourself out or invite some friends for a night out, you never know who you might encounter. Just be your authentic self and enjoy the ride. If you are single, you will have an abundance of suitors that will be interested in you and to chose from. Prepare to go on dates, random and fun adventures, occasional hookups, and fun memories to be made & had. This a great time for you to have fun and take a chance. If you have someone in mind, this person may return back with an offer to reconcile and restrengthen the relationship, if there was any issues in the past.

love advice | knight of pentacles | take your time. Don’t not rush into any commitments without thinking it fully through. Be patient with yourself, you should be in no rush to run into a relationship, if you aren’t fully ready for one. Take time to get to know the person and build trust. Communicate your wants and needs when it comes to love and relationships. Also, stop holding onto old narratives when it comes to love because it’s holding you back from giving and receiving the love you deserve.

pile 2 | a new era of me

crystal | green aventurine | green aventurine aids you in helping you heal old wounds and let go of being too critical of yourself and towards others. It allows you to be open and receptive to love without letting resentment and apathy that remains in your heart. This is the stone for attracting good luck and new opportunities.

oracle messages | make a meal & whale | you are likely someone that shields and protects your heart fiercely. You may have been hurt in past relationships and you rely on your mind and logic than on your heart and emotions when it comes to matters of love. Practice love and gratitude when it comes to yourself and when trying to attract love into your life. You cannot love from a place of emptiness or fear. You are responsible for filling your own cup before you can pour into another’s cup. Some of you could choose to run away from your emotions rather than face it and healing it, but this will only make things worst until you decide to fix it yourself. The wall you have built up has served its purpose, now is the time to be strong and allow yourself to feel and heal. Once you decide to do this, your luck will change.

what next in love | queen of swords | like stated above, you must open up and communicate your feelings, if you desire love. You guys are literally an ice queen/king. Your heart is so cold from holding onto repressed feelings and old wounds. How can you expect someone to love you or be in a relationship with you if you still holding onto past baggage and resentment. For some, you could have going through a divorce/separation, so you may be content with being alone for now, but you should still heal your heart and free yourself from any negative feelings you may be still holding onto from past experiences. You are being asked to stop being closed off and open up your heart for a change. Build healthier and stronger boundaries with yourself and in future relationships, but don’t shut yourself from a chance at real love and happiness.

love advice | ace of swords | take time to focus on your healing process. Figure out what you want for yourself in terms of love. Make sure to be very clear in your intentions when it comes to getting into any new connections. Work through your issues before entering into a new relationship and learn how to communicate your feelings in a healthier way without running or repressing them. 

pile 3 | it’s already yours

crystal | malachite | malachite aids in clearing energetic blockages from the past that prevents you from attracting a healthier form of love. It helps you in attracting a love that is rooted in unconditional love rather than codependency and temptation.

oracle messages | sing & light | you are ready for change when it comes to your love life. This is the perfect stone if you are inspired to seek change and new beginnings. This is another pile that needs to express themselves and share their light with the world. Many of you can have issues with trusting and listening to your inner voice. Your inner voice is a superpower that we all possess and it’s suppose to guide you and protect you from danger, it’s never meant to put you in harms way or lead you astray, if you listen to it carefully, and heed its warnings and messages it wants to communicate with you. Check out the messages in pile 1, you may also resonate with those messages.

what’s next in love | the star | you could have been through in a lot of ups and downs in your love life, yet you kept your light and remained hopeful that all was not lost. You are currently or have been in a place of healing from things that happened in your past connections. You are healing past baggage, so it will not affect your chances of finding and being in a new connection. The time of heartbreaks and disappointments in love is over and the universe will be granting you a new love connection soon. Your prayers and wishes have been received and will be delivered very soon. Stay optimistic and open to receiving your blessings. If you have a person in mind, there is a chance for a renewal, but make sure the person has truly changed before reconciling. If you want this connection to work again, you two must be willing and open for change and to heal any past wounds that is/may affect the connection. 

love advice | page of pentacles | remain grounded and be realistic when it comes to love, but still make sure that you are enjoying the journey. Don’t be afraid to set boundaries and raise your standards if you feel called to. Make the effort and make sure that your person makes the effort as well to keep the connection stable and flowing smoothly. take your time, take it slow, and don’t rush, if your desire longevity.

pile 4 | your own happiness comes first

crystal | rhodochrosite | this stone is perfect at aiding you to show compassion to yourself and others. Rhodochrosite is a great stone for helping you heal on an emotional level and clearing any residual wounds, traumas, and self esteem issues that you may be holding onto and keeping you from loving yourself and finding happiness. A wonderful stone for inspiring playfulness and intimacy with others.

oracle messages | chanting & bear | are you being hard on yourself right now? Do you lack self love and self compassion with yourself? Stop being hard on yourself and start being kind to yourself. You are only human and you deserve nothing but happiness and love. You guys need to focus on loving yourself and healing any issues that you are still holding onto and punishing yourself for. It’s okay to make mistakes whether if it was your mistakes or the mistakes of another. Forgive yourself and accept what you cannot change. You did the best you could do at the time. It is time to lift yourself up and focus on loving yourself unconditionally (every aspect of yourself). You should consider finding self love related topics that you can practice, like guided meditations, journaling, glamour spells or self love spells, or subliminals to help boost your self worth, confidence, and love for yourself. 

what’s next in love | two of wands | you have to make a choice on staying in your comfort zone or taking a chance and try something new for change. The choice is up to you. Ask yourself if you are truly ready for a new relationship or do you need more time to work on yourself before entering a relationship. It’s completely fine if you need more time, don’t feel rushed to get into a connection, take your time and explore your options before deciding what you truly want for yourself in the near future. If you have someone in mind, make the first move and stop waiting. You never know the possibilities, until you give it a shot.

love advice | nine of pentacles | take this time to enjoy your singlehood and independence. Don’t rush into any commitments right now and take things at your own pace. Take this time to love and value yourself as this will attract others to you without you having to rush or forced anything. Romanticize your life and do things for yourself for a change without having to rely on others to do it for you. Get comfortable in doing things alone and enjoy being independent. Good luck pile 4, I believe in you.