#(I’m up to date but now they’re giving me the stuff they give to babies and grandpas)

[pangur-and-grim]

Pangur has been pivotal to my sickness arc, because we are similar levels of old and tired. bed rotting feels nicer when I have my buddy with me

[rotapathetic]

!cosy reader bringing up the topic of pets (wink wink cats) carefully knowing rafe HATES pets 😭

ˎˊ 𝛝 !COSY 𝛠 wanting a pet though rafe can’t stand them ㅤᩘ

i read this as he hates cats so i accidentally made him a cat hater ✧ ﾟ .

you had been scrolling on pinterest all day, looking at rafe doesn’t know what. but you had been focused on your laptop screen so much, rafe slipped your blue light glasses on you, you mumbling a thank you absentmindedly. what were you looking at?

it was when you two were cosy in bed, rafe reading emails, you still on the app, that you brought up your invested topic, “hm, i sure . . love animals. they’re just the cutest,” you spoke aloud randomly, startling rafe.

he turned to you, staring for a moment, “yeah, sure,” he furrowed a brow, returning his attention to his emails.

you took a deep breath, looking at rafe. right, that didn’t work. you twiddled your fingers, speaking again, “and pets are fun, too. adopting and giving them stuff, you know?” you attempted a careless shrug, your voice giving away your interest.

rafe chuckled, “baby, dating you is like having a pet. i think i’m good for now,” he said, still scanning his emails. you tilted your head. fair, “but like an actual pet, rafe. a little guy running around, i think . . i want one.”

rafe set his device aside, looking to you and how serious you were, “alright . . we can look into it, whatever you want,” you smiled, “so what are you thinking? labs are pretty cool, all dark and mysterious. but it’s up to you, you pick what you want, i take care of getting things for it,” he already went to pull up a website to find things a dog would need.

your smile faltered, glancing to your laptop screen, “what about like . . cats? maybe.”

rafe turned to you, looking again to see if your were serious, and frowning when you were, “you know how i feel about those things.”

you huffed, “rafe, they’re not things, they’re cute little cats. it won’t be that bad, really,” rafe was shaking his head before you finished.

“they’re little evil creatures, you know i think that. baby, you could have any pet you want. i’ll find a way to get you an otter if you want . . don’t make that face,” he said to you slowly tilting your lips down and widening your eyes.

“otters are great, did you know their fur is waterproof? but anyway, i more so want a cat,” you turned your laptop screen, rafe jolting slightly at the sight.

he sighed, glancing up at you, “but . . labs are just as cute. the complete opposite of a cat, how cute is that?”

you slapped your hand on the sheets, “no lab . . ” rafe tilted his head, knowing you weren’t changing your mind, “ . . you’ll like a cat. because i like cats. and you like me, so . . yeah,” you made your point.

rafe’s hand came up to run a finger over your cheek, “man . . why do i like you again?” you gasped, poking his arm, rafe grinning, “ow. of course we can get a cat, anything to keep that smile on your face. if i use you as a shield whenever that thing is nearby, don’t say anything.”

you giggled, “no, you’re gonna wanna hold them and stuff. you’re being silly,” you turned back to your laptop, scrolling at more pictures of cats.

rafe furrowed a brow, “that’s what you were looking at all day?” you nodded, “i was working up the courage to ask.”

rafe frowned, “you can ask me anything, i’ll never deny you of anything, you know that, right?” your head came up quickly, “can we get two cats?”

rafe smiled at your excited face, “of course not.”

[cheriladycl01]

Kinktober 19/10/2024 Franco Colapinto - Panty Kink

Plot: Franco is absolutely obsessed with any and all of your underwear…

Warnings: Kinktober, SMUT, panty sniffing, panty licking, panty stealing, anything and all things panties, eating out, dry hump etc

Since you and Franco started dating it was a sweet and unproblematic relationship. But you couldn’t help but notice some … stranger things the longer you guys were together.

The first time he’d ever stayed over, he just slept in the bed with you after you guys ate loads of junk food and snacks.

A week after he left when you were doing a load of washing you noticed that some of your underwear, specifically your panties and lace ones at that had gone missing.

���Franco baby?” You asked over the phone when you decided to call him to see if he’d accidentally added them to the rucksack he’d brought his clothes in.

“Hi baby, argh god I miss you” you groans happily into the phone and you can’t help the butterflies that rise in your stomach.

“I miss you too. I was just wondering if you accidentally took any of my underwear with you when you left. I know I stripped off and left some at the edge of my wash basket because it was kind of full, but I can’t find them” you say and you hear a little shuffling as if he had gone to his bag to double check.

Little did you know, he had in fact taken them. Right out your dirty laundry basket before using them as he gave himself a hand job using the lace material against his dick for that added sensation.

But of course he wouldn’t admit that.

“Erm let me check the wash coz they aren’t in my bag” he says and he was just making up time to make it all seem more plausible. He had in fact chucked them in the wash after he’d come all over them and wanted them clean for his next time. However now that you were on to them he’d have to give them back.

“Thank you. They’re the only pair that go with the dress I’m supposed to wear this weekend” you tell him.

“Oh yeah they’re here in the washing machine with my stuff from that night” he says and they were mixed in with his washing, now your panties smell like him.

He couldn’t tell what he preferred, your sent on them from wearing them all day and being a little musky from your natural aroma that was driving him crazy and he couldn’t wait to get his first taste. Or his sent on them, making an item of yours smell so much like him which also made his brain a little haywire.

“Thanks baby, you wanna come over tonight?” You ask hoping that he would considering you felt like you hadn’t seen him in ages.

After that, it was a while before anything else bizarre happened. Until you guys were first having sex, he was obsessed with your panties, he’d dragged them down your legs with his teeth and pocketed them in his jeans before he went down on you like a starved man.

You didn’t think anything off it, if anything you found it kind of hot.

And after that, whenever you guys when to races together he’d always dip his hands into your jeans or skirt, whatever you were wearing and running his fingers up and down the hand of the thongs you were wearing that rested nicely on your curved hips.

It wasn’t until you caught him in the act. It was a race weekend and he’d just been promoted from F2 to F1 in a Williams seat. You were insanely proud of him and took the last few days of your working week to travel to Italy with him when you heard.

You’d gone out for dinner with the other wags, Lily becoming your older sister role model in the paddock. Of course neither you nor Franco were media trained so you had been caught on camera being rather chaotic together, and everyone already seemed to adore you.

However when you come back to the hotel room, earlier than the others who were going out clubbing instead and you didn’t really feel like going you decided to go back.

What you didn’t expect was as you got to the hotel room door to open it to here a sort of whimper. You went in as to you from the outside it sounded like he could have been in pain.

As you walked in you saw a sight you never expected.

It was your boyfriend with your sexy pink underwear wrapped in his hand around his dick that was rubbing up and down his shaft releasing moans from deep in the back of his throat.

“Franco?” You asked shocked he hasn’t heard you open the door. His hand dropped and he looked at you in shock before grabbing a pillow to cover himself up.

“Baby! What are you doing back your early” he gulps out looking at you with wide eyes. Full of lust and need.

“All the girls were going clubbing, I didn’t want to go- are you using my underwear?” You ask looking at him shocked and confused. In seconds he’s up and coming up to you, tears building in his eyes as he puts both his hands on your cheeks.

Worry was all that you could see in his eyes now.

“I-I’m so sorry I should have told you but” and ends up rambling about your panties and his kink for anything to do with the provocative underwear, even if it wasn’t provocative he still loved it.

“Baby baby baby, shush it’s okay” you chuckle not bothered about the fact he was using your stuff to help him get off.

“W-what? You just came back to find me using your stuff to get off. Aren’t you mad?” He asks, sniffing a little bit.

“No, you’re my boyfriend. I think it’s sweet you like my panties. But you really couldn’t wait for me to come back? Or were you too embarrassed to ask for my panties” you ask, and he looks down.

“I-“ he starts but you pull him into a kiss, shushing him immediately.

“How about this. I’m here to help now, and you can do whatever you want with the panties I’m in now?” You grin, hoping he wouldn’t feel as embarrassed and open up to you.

“Thank you mi amor” he says before lifting you up and putting you on the bed. He doesn’t waste anytime hitching your dress up. His head immediately dived in between your legs, his nose hitting your clothed clit as he inhales a breath of you.

“Franco” you moan looking down in confusion to see what he’s doing.

“Smell so good. Could just stay here forever” he groans as he kicked a strip up your panties nudging his nose in a little more making a moan come from you.

“Baby…” you moan, your hand coming down into his hair gripping him in closer. He pulls the panties just to the side. Wanting to keep them there as his tongue dove into your deep and wet cavern. His groan vibrated around you making you gasp and your eyes squint shut at the feeling.

Franco had a thing for eating you out. All of your previous relationships, didn’t really do that but my god Franco wasn’t scared to have his chin dripping with your juices by then end.

His nose hit the perfect spot making your hips buck up as that feeling inside you released right into his awaiting mouth.

“Oh my god, so fucking good” you moan as he pulls your panties back across. They were gray and him seeing that little wet spot now building on them made him sit at the edge of the bed. He kept his boxers on and pulled you off the bed so you were stood in front of me.

“Want you on me” he points to his dick making a tent in his boxers and you immediately know he wants you to ride him with your panties on. Both you being clothed and just having that friction.

You turn yourself around so your facing away from him before you balance against his lowered lap, perfect height for your to run your clothed pussy against his restrained dick.

“Fuck baby, that’s it” he says, his hands on your hips snapping the edging of your panties against your hips making you moan out. You swivel your hips a little quicker making him thrust up into you trying to get as much out of it as he can.

“Oh fuck baby I’m gonna cum, gonna cum” he moans his thrusts becoming wild as his dick as the roughness of both sets of underwear rubbing against him. Before he knows it, his white strings of cum are being forced out of his own gray boxers and staining the back of your own panties as you keep moving to reach your own high, which isn’t too much longer after him.

“Fuck that was so good” you say gripping his thighs as you slow down. You turn round to see him, a fucked out expression on his face.

“This… this is why you tell me your kinks” you laugh at him, before getting up to get cleaning supplies from the bathroom. The last thing he sees is the wet spots on your panties from his own cum and your own sweet release.

While your in the bathroom he hears some movement and russling and before he knows it a gray fabric is launched at him.

In his hands was your damp underwear.

And at the moment seeing you grinning, watching him to see his reaction and he knew at that moment you were the one for him.

Taglist:

@littlebitchsposts @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @daemyratwst @lauralarsen @the-untamed-soul @thewulf @itsjustkhaos @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @summissss @gulphulp @starfusionsworld @jspitwall @sierruhhhh @georgeparisole @youcannotcancelquidditch @tallbrownhairsarcastic @ourteenagetragedy @peachiicherries @formulas-bitch @cherry-piee @spilled-coffee-cup @mehrmonga @eiraethh @curseofhecate @alliwantisadonut @dark-night-sky-99 @i-wish-this-was-me @tallrock35 @butterfly-lover @barnestatic @landossainz @darleneslane @barcelonaloverf1life @r0nnsblog @ilove-tswizzle @laneyspaulding19 @malynn @landosgirlxoxo @marie0v @yourbane @teamnovalak @nikfigueiredo @fionaschicken @0picels0 @tinydeskwriter @ironmaiden1313 @splaterparty0-0 @formula1mount

[beiasluv]

— op81, cs55, cl16, ls2

a/n: spent so long on the graphic 💀

yourinsta

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yourinsta call me pitbull cuz I’m mr worldwide 🤫 (+🇦🇺🇪🇸🇲🇨🇺🇸)

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landonorris coppiers

yourinsta you’re my og 🫶

landonorris just og? 😔

username I swear if oscar gives us nothinggg

username MY BABY IS SHY OKAY?

username GOOD DAY TO BE A LOGAN SARGEANT FAN 🦅🦅🦅🦅

username I could only pray the Spanish flag is for Fernando 😩

— oscar piastri

Nervously sipping on his emotional support orange juice. Maybe too much nervous sipping.

“So, what’s your type?”

“My girlfriend?”

“Tell her she’s mine too.”

“WOw, will do.”

Cheeks turning red, munching on the fries like a little chipmunk he is.

“I mean– I have three sisters so…”

“That’s a green flag.”

“Thank you?” a piece of chicken in, a smile comes out. “That’s it?”

“Maybe if he’s…Australian, maybe.” you shrugged.

“Yeah.”

“And if he’s…wait. what sign are you?”

“Don’t know..I think it’s kinda nonsense.”

“That’s a red flag.”

“Sorry?” cheeky.

The orange juice was left unattended for a minute. Good sign. Chuckles were still evident.

“Let’s get serious here…” shifting in your seat.

“Yeah.”

“You drive for a living?”

“Yeah, I go around in circles ‘nd stuff,” juice pause. “I could drive you around Melbourne..if you’d want to–”

“And you’ll take me back by eight? Maybe offering your hand as well?”

“Yeah,” squinting face. “I could do that.”

“Lovely.”

— carlos sainz

Does that thing with his eyes, bending down to take the fries in…while keeping an intense eye contact.

“Smooth operator, you like that song?”

“Everyone favorite song no?”

“Hard choice.” pausing your fries mid air. “Spanish songs that I have no idea what they’re talking about could be up there.”

“Really? Tell me one.”

“The one from fast and furious.”

“A lot of them,” throwing his head back. “Can you sing it for me?”

“Asking for me to sing already. You’re in a hurry Carlos?” a sip of your Diet Coke. “Fast Five?”

“Eh..Danza Kuduro?”

“How could I know?” you shrugged. “What’s the song about anyways?”

“Something like…dancing…er…with tight ass.”

“Make sense.”

Looking confused as ever with that big, brown eyes. Mouth agape and shut every time few seconds, curling into a smile most of the time.

“So you’re still looking for job next year?”

“Huh?”

“Lewis Hamilton? Looking for job?”

“Eh..” leaned back in his seat. “Could be. Are you offering?”

“I’m a pretty busy girl..”

“Really? How busy?”

“So you’re up for it? That’s fast.”

“I’ll have to talk to my manager,” raising his eyebrow. “What is your requirement?”

“A Ferrari driver.”

“Sure.”

— charles leclerc

Trying to not laugh his ass off every five seconds or just completely blanks out. Chicken tasted good though.

“Charles, I have to ask you one thing.”

“Yeah?”

“How do you pronounce your last name?”

“I don’t..I don’t care, really.” Shrugging his shoulders. “Charles. Le. Clare.”

“Hm…maybe just use my last name instead, it’s easier.”

“I– yeah?”

“What?”

His chicken was pretty cleaned up the first few minutes. Plenty of confused chuckles.

“Do you think you are a committed person?”

“I…I…it’s a hard question no?” he put his hand together, in an Italian – sorry, Monegasque way. “I like to say I am.”

“I could tell.”

“Really? How?”

“Your contract with Ferrari.”

— logan sargeant

He was used to burger and fries but maybe he could just tolerate chicken and fries for your pretty company.

“What’s your ideal date?”

“Hm..definitely chicken shop dates.”

“Really? Where’s best chicken you ever had then?”

“This one.”

“That’s not an option.”

Subtle stares here and there, his cheeks might be hurting from all the grinning though.

“What’s your ideal type?” munching his ketchup-ed fries.

“So you don’t do researches.”

“I am now.”

“You know…starting to have a thing for Americans. You have any recommendations?”

“You could start by going fishing in the Keys with me,” stretched his arms.

“I’m not into fishy things.”

“Just boat rides?”

“I could do that.”

Coke break.

“Your thoughts on frat boys?”

“They’re fine,” he shrugged.

“And you’re not like a..secret member? Is it like a One Direction..thing?”

“Maybe better looking?” smirked. “I could see myself being one if I wasn’t racing.”

“Dreams do come true, Sargeant.”

“Ouch,” clutching his chest. “Ah– well– Maybe this other dream could come true as well?”

“You being better looking than One Direction?”

tell me who should be in chicken shop dateee 😩😩

– @namgification @jsjcue @c-losur3

Today’s a great day to take care of yourself!!

[harrysfolklore]

Could you do an insta blurb with Anna Paul as a face claim? <33

never give up - ln4

my first lando blurb !! i was really excited to write for him so let me know your thoughts about this or send requests !

MASTERLIST | MY PATREON

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yourinstagram starting the job of my dreams tomorrow 😭😭😭😭 see you soon bahrain 🏁

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username1 omg congratulations ma friend !! ♥︎ by author

username2 all of those years of watching race cars finally paid off ♥︎ by author

↳ yourinstagram now i’m going to be making tiktoks for them HOW IS LIFE REAL

username3 PLEASE FEED US WITH GOOD CONTENT

↳ yourinstagram your wish is my command 🫡🫡🫡

maxverstappen1 Please don’t make us do any kind of dance… ♥︎ by author

↳ maxfan1 HES ALREADY COMPLAINING HELP

↳ yourinstagram you don’t make that decision sir

username3 i believe in the f1 fan to working to f1 pipeline now

oscarpiastri Hello new best friend ♥︎ by author

↳ yourinstagram HI BESTIEEEEE

↳ oscarfan1 counting on the oscar content

landonorris Welcome abroad 🥰 ♥︎ by author

↳ landofan1 whats with that emoji landoeeee

↳ yourinstagram i’m readyyyy

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lando.jpg touchdown in bahrain. @yourinstagram forced me to try matcha (awful experience)

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landofan1 HE REMEMBERED THIS ACCOUT WE CHEER

oscarpiastri You’re a matcha girl at heart

↳ yourinstagram you’re so right my dearest pastry

↳ oscarfan1 LOVE THEM

landofan2 not lando being a matcha hater 😭

landofan3 yn in the last picture she’s so cuuuute

username1 lando posting a picture of yn 👀 i bet they’re dating

↳ landofan1 you must be new here lando posts literally everyone

maxverstappen1 I spot a Redbull jacket, thank you for picking favorites already @yourinstagram

↳ yourinstagram don’t flatter yourself okay. and tell checo i need both of you for rapid fire questions asap

↳ charles_leclerc I’m getting her ferrari red stuff soon

↳ lando.jpg she’s papaya heart, sorry losers

↳ username2 HEEELP😭

username3 looks like all the drivers get along with yn it’s so fun to see

georgerussell63 Why did you steal YN I needed to run something by her

↳ yourinstagram if by that you mean you need to know which one of your memes is going viral rn, check your messages

↳ username4 PLEASEEEEE 😭

username5 this comment section feels like a gc with all of them and i love it

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yourinstagram tifosi for jeddah. let’s gooo @/charles_leclerc, @/olliebearman ❤️ and sending big hugs to mr smooth operator @/carlossainz55, hope you recover sooooonnn

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username1 SLAYYYY

charlesfan1 YAAS YN IS ON OUR SIDEEE

username2 such a cool jacket omg ♥︎ by author

scuderiaferrari We’re all Tifosi at heart 🙌

↳ yourinstagram love you ferrari admin

landofan1 i know lando won’t be happy

olliebearman Love you 🫶🫶🫶 ♥︎ by author

↳ username1 AWEEEE OLLIE

iamrebeccad 😍 ♥︎ by author

alexandrasaintmleux Ferrari girls >>> 🥰 ♥︎ by author

↳ charlesfan1 i love the ferrari wags sm

landofan2 lando complaining in 3..2..1

landonorris It’s always tifosi or gives you wings but never papaya

↳ oscarpiastri Ouch

↳ yourinstagram top cry babies of the grid: the mclaren boys

↳ landofan1 😭😭😭😭😭

↳ danielricciardo Can you blame them? They’re like 7 ♥︎ by author, georgerussell63, maxverstappen1, carlossainz55

↳ landonorris Can’t hear the haters

maxverstappen1 And who got double podium?

↳ yourinstagram you’re so annoying omg

↳ maxfan1 HEEEELP

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f1gossip Lando Norris enjoys Australia with mystery woman ahead of the Grand Prix this weekend

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landofan1 HEEELP

landofan2 my brother in christ that’s yn

username1 mystery woman 😂😂 @/yourinstagram

landofan3 iconic duo

landofan4 i’m going to say what everyone is thinking: i ship them

↳ landofan1 HEEEELP

username2 we need the teaaaaaaa

yourinstagram i wonder who could that be ♥︎ landonorris

↳ username1 so mysterious

yourinstagram why does this look like i’m showing you receipts of something shady that you did @landonorris

↳ landonorris You look so done with my lies lol

↳ landofan2 WHAT ARE YALL DOING HERE

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yourinstagram AND THAT'S A WIN FOR THE SMOOTH OPERATOR AFTER THE OPERATION ‼️ congratulations carlitosss, don't let the papaya fool you, i was rooting for you

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username1 LETS GOOO

username2 this is such a cool picture ♥︎ by author

mclaren Our papaya heart just broke 💔

↳ yourinstagram NOOOOO

scuderiaferrari FORZA FERRARI ❤️

↳ yourinstagram YAAAS

username3 she really has the coolest job in the world

landofan1 lando finally made her wear papaya 😭 ♥︎ by author

landonorris I was in the podium too, you know?

↳ charles_leclerc Me too

↳ yourinstagram did you win?

↳ landofan2 CLOCK THEM

iamrebeccad 😍😍😍 ♥︎ by author

lilyzneimer Beautyyy

↳ yourinstagram PICTURE CREDITS TO BABY LILY !!

carlossainz55 The smooth operation 💪 ♥︎ by author

↳ landonorris I'm getting my apendix removed

↳ yourinstagram DO NOT

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landonorris australia was nice :)

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landofan1 BABYYYYY

landofan2 LANDOOOO THE LAST PIC

username1 yn what are you doing here

carlossainz55 Why don't you post a picture of my win?

↳ landofan1 😭😭😭

↳ yourinstagram bc i'm prettier ♥︎ by author

oscarpiastri Australia: the best country in the world

↳ yourinstagram you're australia's treasure 👐

landofan3 POSTING YN??? ON MAIN??

↳ landofan1 bestiesss

↳ landofan2 i had to double check this was actually his main

username2 he's in love with yn

georgerussell33 crushcrushcrush

↳ username1 he's so strange

yourinstagram i like being each other's personal photographers

↳ landofan1 SOOOO YN TOOK LANDO'S PICS

↳ landofan3 they're in love

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landonorris i didn't get that podium but i did get you some spam

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landofan1 BOYFRIEND MATERIAL

username1 when will lando nowins ends

landofan2 YN AGAIN?????

mclaren ���

danielricciardo Is this a YN fan account? ♥︎ by author

↳ yourinstagram IT SO IS RIGHT

↳ landonorris Can't hear the haters

username2 it's so obvious that those two are in a relationship

↳ landofan1 don't be weird they're friends and yn kinda works for them

↳ landofan2 to be fair yn doesn't really work for the drivers, she works for the f1 pr team

carlossainz55 👀

↳ landofan1 WHAT DO YOU KNOW

yourinstagram thank you for the night walk and the pic buddyyyy ♥︎ by author

↳ landofan1 NOT BUDDY HELP

↳ username1 even i felt hurt by that friendzone

↳ landofan2 lando was found crying

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yourinstagram one moth living the dream life while having the dream job 🥺 let’s go shangai 🇨🇳

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username1 im so jealous rn

username2 teach me your ways

lewishamilton 🖤 ♥︎ by author

maxfan1 REDBULL JACKET SLAY

landofan1 lando crying over the redbull gear soon

username3 traveling the world befriending the drivers and getting free merch this is really THE DREAM ♥︎ by author

lilyzneimer 💙 the bestttt!

↳ yourinstagram i literally lysm baby lily

↳ oscarpiastri Stop stealing my girlfriend from me thank you

↳ yourinstagram the mclaren boys being cry babies, exhibit B

alex_albon Why am I missing from the third pic?

↳ georgerussell63 We we’re gossiping about you ♥︎ by author, oscarpiastri, landonorris, lewishamilton, maxverstappen1

↳ yourinstagram exactly

username4 how does it feel to live my dream

maxverstappen1 Great great jacket

↳ landonorris i’m burning it

↳ landofan1 HEEEELP 😭

landonorris Best season so far 🫶🫶🫶 ♥︎ by author

↳ landofan2 LANDOOOOOO????

↳ landofan3 he’s down bad awe

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mclaren A very special guest joins the papaya garage today 🧡 #MiamiGP

tagged: yourinstagram

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landofan1 AHHHHH

username1 WAG vibes

landofan2 since when does lando have access to the mclaren acc

username2 she looks amazing

lilyzneimer 🫶🫶🫶

↳ mclaren Our other fave 🙌

↳ landofan2 mclaren hyping their wags up so trueeeee

redbullracing Give her back

↳ username1 the girls are fighting

↳ mclaren Never

landonorris 😍😍😍😍 ♥︎ by yourinstagram

↳ landofan1 CONTROL IT

↳ landofan2 JUST KISS HER YOU FOOL

yourinstagram GO PAPAYA BOYS 🧡🧡

↳ landonorris boy*

↳ oscarpiastri Cry cry cry

↳ landofan3 IM YELLING 😭😭😭

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landonorris WWE FUCKING DID IT. P1 🏆

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landofan1 IM STILL SOBBING WTF

landofan2 HE DID IT LITTLE LANDO NORRIS DID ITTTT

oscarpiastri Well done man 👏👏👏 ♥︎ by author

alex_albon Congrats!!! 💪👏 ♥︎ by author

mclaren PROUD 🧡🧡🧡

username1 this man is going to party like an animal tonight

landofan3 whoever or whatever put a fire on his ass to win THANK YOU

maxverstappen1 You had a great motivation to win. Congrats 👏 ♥︎ by author

↳ username2 HUUUUUH

lewishamilton WELL DONE ♥︎ by author

yourinstagram IM STILL CRYING 😭😭😭

↳ maxverstappen1 Because now you’ll have to go out with him? THIS COMMENT IS NO LONGER AVAILABLE

↳ landofan1 MAX WTF WE ALL SAW THAT

yourinstagram CONGRATULATIONS LAN 🧡🧡🧡 ♥︎ by author

↳ landofan2 when the camera focused on her after lando crossed the line 😩😩 my delusional ass is living

↳ username1 these two will be a thing before the season ends

↳ landonorris My good luck charm ❤️

↳ landofan3 LANDO DONT DO THIS TO ME

liked by landofan1, landofan2 and 16,936 others

f1gossip Lando Norris get cozy with mysterious woman after Miami GP win

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landofan1 OMFGGGG

landofan2 CAUGHT IN 4K

username1 who is thissssss

landofan3 IF THIS IS NOT YN I DONT WANT IT

username2 wbk he’s always wildinggggg

landofan4 guys i think this is yn???? she posted stories celebrating with lando

↳ landofan1 omg i don’t want to be delusional

↳ landofan2 AND REMEMBER MAX DELETED COMMENT ????

landofan5 can somebody from the grid spill the beans about his

↳ landofan1 george where are you ?????

liked by yourinstagram, pierregasly and 1,390,180 others

landonorris I’ll remember this forever. Thank you everyone ❤️

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landofan1 AHHHH

landofan2 THE SECOND PIC HELLO????

mclaren We always believed in you 🧡

landofan3 THATS LITERALLY YN IN THE SECOND PIC

oscarpiastri I bet this was your favorite weekend ever ♥︎ by author

↳ landofan1 WHAT DO YOU KNOW

georgerussell63 You finally convinced her?

↳ landonorris And did

↳ landofan2 WTF LET ME IN???? WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT

landofan4 LANYN IS REAL 😭😭😭😭

username1 yn is no better than me i would also fall for lando norris

landofan5 SEE YN WAS THE GIRL WITH HIM IN MIAMI

lewishamilton Did I miss something?

↳ georgerussell63 If you only checked your phone

↳ username2 HEEEELP

landofan6 SO THIS IS SO YN 😭 i really hope they’re together

maxverstappen1 Two things you had been waiting for: the win and the girl ♥︎ by author

↳ maxfan1 MAX HAS NO FILTER I CANT

↳ landofan1 SO THEY’RE TOGETHER

↳ landonorris 🥰

yourinstagram 🧡 ♥︎ by author

↳ username1 THATS ALL??? GIRL ADRESS THE RUMORS

↳ landofan1 GIVE US SOMETHING

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yourinstagram imola, monaco, montreal 🤍

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username1 forever jealous of your life

landofan1 A LOT OF LANDO HERE OMGGG

username2 the second pic, is she dating anyone? 👀

↳ landofan2 lando so true

georgerussell63 You're welcome for the Hello Kitty face mask ♥︎ by author

↳ username1 OF COURSE george would have hello kitty face masks

↳ yourinstagram thank u georgie

landofan3 this is basically a lando appreciation post ♥︎ by author

username3 i sense a soft launch

landofan4 landoyn is sooooo alive

mclaren Our favorite 🧡

lilyzneimer 🤩 ♥︎ by author

oscarpiastri Thank you for the tiktok tips?

↳ yourinstagram you think those were for free? you owe me dinner

maxverstappen1 Why there is no Redbull on this collage?

↳ yourinstagram you and checo have been pissing me off lately

↳ maxfan1 HEEEEELP

scuderiaferrari Some red in sight ❤️

↳ yourinstagram as it should

landonorris so pretty 😍 ♥︎ by author

↳ yourinstagram you talking about yourself?

↳ landonorris nope 😍

↳ landofan1 STOOOOOOOP THIS

liked by daniel3.jpg, yourinstagram and 348,922 others

lando.jpg happy :)

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landofan1 AHHHHHH

landofan2 I JUMPED FROM MY SPOT

username1 wbk they're together

oscaspiastri Cuties

oscarpiastri Lily wrote the previous comment, not me

↳ oscarfan1 HEEEEELP

↳ yourisntagram this is why she's my favorite

landofan3 THIS REALLY CONFIRMS THEY'RE TOGETHER

username3 what if they're not together and everyone is just clowning 😭😭

carlossainz55 I've been replaced

↳ landofan1 HEEEELP

↳ landofan2 CARLANDO FOREVER

yourinstagram 🧡 ♥︎ by author

↳ username1 stop it with the orange hearts SAY SOMETHING

liked by landonorris, olliebearman and 103,827 others

yourinstagram paps hard launched us before i could do it, but here’s our official instagram debut i guess 🧡

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username1 AHHH FINALLY

username2 you've come a long way girl, from fan to working for f1 to dating a driver ♥︎ by author

landofan1 I KNEW ITTT I KNEW ITT

georgerussell63 We had been plotting this since you first met, btw ♥︎ by landonorris, oscarpiastri, maxverstappen1

↳ yourinstagram nosy bitches !!

↳ username1 HEEEEELP 😭

mclaren OUR PRAYERS HAD BEEN ANSWERED 🤩🤩🧡

↳ landofan2 the mclaren admin is soooo me

↳ yourinstagram stop mclaren admin im blushing

username3 slayest couple of the paddock already

oscarpiastri What happened to "my job comes first"?

↳ landonorris Mate do you want her to break up with me or something

↳ landofan1 😭😭😭😭

lilyzneimer Papaya girls stick together 💕 ♥︎ by author

↳ username1 queens of mclaren

↳ alexandrasaintmleux :(((

↳ yourinstagram i literally lysm alex

landonorris my girl my girl my girl my girl ❤️ ♥︎ by author

↳ maxverstappen1 We get it

↳ landonorris you're jealous bc she'll never wear redbull anymore

↳ yourinstagram 🥴🥴

liked by yourinstagram, charles_leclerc and 1,092,388 others

landonorris Never back down never what? Never give up

view all 15,390 comments

landofan1 YELLING

landofan2 I CANTTTT

username1 i want what they have

olliebearman ❤️

mclaren Our parents 🧡

↳ landofan1 its me im actually the mclaren admin

danielricciardo YN blink twice if you need help

↳ georgerussell63 She just did I'm next to her

↳ landonorris Can't hear the haters

↳ landofan2 😭😭😭

username2 i need yn's manifestation methods

landofan4 THE HAND PLACEMENTS ???? LANDO' SMILE ?????

maxverstappen1 Poor girl

↳ maxfan1 LEAVE HIM ALONEEE

carlossainz55 My biggest condolences @/yourinstagram

↳ landofan1 they grid has one mission today and that is to attack lando

yourinstagram 🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍 ♥︎ by author

yourinstagtam leave my baby alone assholes @/danielricciardo @/georgerussell63 @/maxverstappen1 @/carlossainz55

↳ carlossainz55 Don't baby him even more

↳ georgerussell63 cAnT hEar ThE hAtErS

↳ landonorris my girl my girl 😍

[sweetimpurity]

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ 👻🎃 Happy October my sweets! Please enjoy and I'll see ya tomorrow for day 2!! 🎃👻. masterlist>>

cw: fingering 1.6k words. ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

“You did so well today…” Miguel says suddenly, his eyes on the holographic screen in front of him. Breaking the silence of his office except for the hum of machines and computers. You came to discuss a future mission and he’s finding the files in the computer database when he says it. Bringing you to look up at him. Lashes fluttering slightly and a warm satisfaction flooding your chest, smile gracing your lips. You worked hard as you do everyday and it’s good to know he notices. “Thank you…” 

“Really, babe. You were the exact right person for that mission and because of you, it went perfectly.” When he says it this time, he looks into your eyes. A genuine, purposeful look in his eyes. You could swear he can see you literally melting. From the inside out. “I’m very proud of you…” 

 “Thanks, Mig…” You can’t help the smile, warmth flooding your cheeks, a strange feeling inside, like pure happiness and satisfaction. Cracking your knuckles behind your back, crossing one leg over the other where you stand.

…

“I love your hair like that.” His deep voice hums and you feel his fingers on your cheek, pushing some stray strands behind your ear. Turning around to face him and that familiar feeling comes back. “It’s so pretty… too pretty…” He grins as he’s walking past you. His dark eyes raking over you and watching that smile wash over your face. Your voice a meek gentle sound. “Thank you, baby…” 

“Thank you, pretty girl…” 

…

“Amor, you made these yourself?” He smiles across the desk. The fruit-filled empanadas you made in the middle. The dessert you spent so long learning how to make. Because you know they’re his favorite. The butter layered in between, the reduction of berries and sugar to make the jam, the delicate shapes they’re formed into. Made with love and care. “Yeah I did!” You smile brightly across the table. Beaming at him. 

“I’m so impressed, baby, these look so good.” He says as if it’s no big deal. Like you aren’t squeezing your thighs together under the table. He’s been doing this a lot lately. Maybe you’re just now starting to notice. From the compliments on your outfits or how good you look in your spider suit. To the progress you make on missions, the food you make, anything you do. “Thank you Miguel…” It’s something you keep saying. Over the past few days especially. It’s like everything you do, he just loves it. And more than that, he’s letting you know. 

…

“You can pick the movie, I always pick.” You toss him the remote across the sofa. A rare quiet night in after a string of busy society days. Flopping back against the cushions, your legs draped over his lap and his big warm hands running up your calves, to the underside of your knees. “I think you should pick…” He says.

“But I always pick.” 

“Because you always pick the best ones. Every movie you pick… that’s the perfect movie.” 

Your eyes narrow at the side of his face across the couch. And then he finally looks over at you. His brow rising. “What.” 

“What is that? What are you doing?” You smile, giving him a skeptical look. To which he just shrugs. He wasn’t doing this last week. He was his same stubborn and quiet self last time you checked. So you pull your knees up, rolling up across the cushions and over to him. “That thing you keep doing…” 

“I don’t know what you mean.” He says, sighing and fighting back a smile when you climb into his lap. Straddling his lap with his hands naturally coming to your hips. His deadpan face to face with your narrowed expression. 

“You keep complimenting me and… like everything I do, you say it’s good and stuff.” You say, crossing your arms with a pout. The words feeling stupid coming out of your mouth. He’s your boyfriend, of course he’s supposed to compliment you on things you do. Is all of this just normal stuff? No one you dated in the past ever did this before. But why is it such a big deal? 

“You’re just so perfect at everything baby…” He whispers. And it’s now you’re sure he’s doing this with some ulterior motive. “You and I both know that’s not true!” You disagree with a smile, pointing a finger right at his face. “There are lots of things I suck at!” And he just leans forward, pressing his lips to the tip of your finger. “Perfect fingers too…” 

“Miguel, stop!” You pull your hand away, blushing so hard and trying to squeeze your knees together if not for the blockage of his body between them. It’s more confusing than anything. Crossing your arms again. “Perfect fingers, perfect hands, perfect body, perfect face… most perfect girl in the world…” 

Your eyes widen as the whispers hush past his lips. Your heart is starting to pound. “What happened to you? What's going on?” You ask incredulously. It’s comical. 

“There’s nothing wrong… you’re just perfection, baby…” And he just leans forward, closer. You lean back, not knowing why you feel this way. Did he hit his head too hard on the mission today? You’re not complaining but all this praise coming from your usually reserved and quiet man is shocking. His eyes trail up your body as he’s speaking. Scanning you up and down. “You like it when I talk like that, baby?” He whispers looking right in your eyes, grinning at the embarrassing blush fanning your cheeks. 

“I don’t know…” You whisper in return, pressing your cold hands to your hot cheeks and keeping them there. “You like that?” He asks again. Although the answer is obvious. “Mm…” You just hum softly, nodding with your hands on your face, as if to hide from how hot he’s making you feel. 

“You’re such a good girl… such a sweet girl…” He whispers, barely audible over the thumping of your own heart in your ears. Pushing some hair behind your ear with gentle fingers. “It’s my job to let you know, right? To let you know when you’re being a good girl…” His deep voice vibrates.

He can see how this is making you feel. A satisfied feeling for him, watching you react. He’s suspected for a while that you have a thing for being praised and sweet talked. That it’s more effective in getting your panties off than a sharp talon sometimes. Even if you yourself have no idea. Because he can feel it. The way you squeeze around him when he so much as tells you, you’re beautiful during sex. The way you’re ten times slicker when he drowns your mind with countless compliments during the deed, making you hazy. So hazy you barely remember it the next morning. You just remember how good he made you feel. It makes you so much softer, like putty for him to play with. It’s his job to please you as best he can, is it not? 

The past few days have sort of been a test. He’s a scientist after all. He showered you with compliments about anything and everything. It wasn’t hard for him. Since he really does believe in everything he said. He just usually doesn’t make a habit of saying it out loud. But knowing it gets you off was the biggest push for him to verbalize it every time. And knowing you like being good for him does things for his ego. 

…

“You’re my best girl, my pretty girl...my only girl…right baby?” His voice husks, one arm wrapped around your back to keep you in place and the other buried in your panties. “Mm! Hah Mig-” You can only sigh and moan, grinding into his hand. His palm pressing perfectly to your clit. His long fingers curling up inside you, pressing upon your g-spot over and over. Massaging your sensitive walls and feeling you gush on him. You’re just so sweet for him. It gets him hard just watching and hearing you. The soft squeaks and squeals and sighs. Your knees pressing into the couch cushions on either side of his thighs, toes curling in your socks and desperate hands raking through his hair and holding his head in your neck. Listening to the praises and words of devotion flowing from his lips right to your ear. “Such a pretty, perfect pussy, amor… so soft.”

His other hand dips into the back of your waistband. A big warm hand splayed out on your asscheek and grabbing a handful in a squeeze. Pulling urgent moans and whines from your throat. His touch is gentle while still confident and sure. This is about your pleasure after all. Two of his thick digits filling you up already, working in and out, his other hand moving down your ass and snaking between your thighs, making you want to close your thighs again. All his fingers with all their attention on filling you up and making you come. 

“Keep those legs open, baby…” He whispers, making you whine. Nudging your head to tilt back with his strong nose. His lips latching onto your throat in wet kisses, feeling you squirm, you just can’t keep still, knowing you're close. “Come on baby… be a good girl and come for me…” His words alone could get you there. To know he’s pleased. 

“Miguel I-I’m… hah!” You squeal, fingers digging into his shoulder blades, and his head pulls back to look up at your face. “That’s my girl- Oh you look so beautiful like this baby… gorgeous girl… you can come, it’s okay…” 

Your eyes flutter and roll back, a gasp of his name and you’re done for…

if you'd like to be added/dropped from the taglist please comment on my masterlist post or I might not see it! thank you!

[godslino]

IN BLOOM | jisung first date series. second chance lovers.

pairing: jisung x fem!reader word count: 13.2k genre: childhood friends au, angst, fluff, songwriter!jisung, florist!reader warnings: swearing, minor character death, grief/loss (nothing to do with any of the members!) summary: it's february. the tulips are in bloom. jisung is back.

chan | minho | changbin | hyunjin | jisung | felix | seungmin | jeongin · · · ♡ series masterlist · · · ♡ taglist · · · ♡

a/n: *taps mic* hello?? is this thing on?? oh good. yes. hi. hello! it's been a while, as most of you can tell. thank you all SO MUCH for sticking around. if you've been reading my asks you'll know that march and april were rough months for me personally. shout out to my anons and mutuals who kept my spirits high and made my days brighter. uhhh, this was originally supposed to be a stand alone fic but i figured hey, what the hell, and made it into jisung's first date chapter. it's pretty heavy stuff. lots of feelings, lots of love. i hope you guys enjoy reading it as much as i did writing it! again, thank you so much for waiting for me. i'll be back soon with more updates! all the love <3

also thank you kenzie for being such a light during all of this. i hope all my screaming in your messages was worth it!

“All of these had to be pulled.” Hyunjin huffs, dropping a few crates just past the doorway. 

“Again?” you ask, hands on your hips as you stare at yet another wasted supply. “I don’t understand, they sold so well last year.”

Hyunjin gives you a sad smile. “It’ll pick up eventually, don’t worry. I mean the holidays just finished and business usually slows down in the months after anyways.”

He’s being sincere, you know that. But there’s a part of you that also knows it’s a lot more than just the usual ebb and flow of sales. He’s being nice for your sake.

“Maybe we could try coming up with other ideas?” he suggests, because Hyunjin is nothing if not kind. Always willing, always finding a way.

He moves past you to grab a fresh pair of gloves. The ones he’s wearing are dirty, pollen-stained and ripped at the edges. 

“You’ve always been really good at basket arrangements. We could try to make some for Valentine's Day. Different sizes, maybe? The big ones will probably do well for online orders since they’re more optimal for things like office deliveries and stuff like that.”

You hum in approval. “True. I mean, I was kind of worried we would have to skip out on deliveries this year since we don’t have the manpower to handle all of that, but I think Jeongin’s been looking to pick up hours around here again. He said something about his program giving them a month of independent study, so he’ll be home for a bit.” you say, scribbling down a reminder in your notebook. “I could ask him to help with driving the truck in his free time?”

Hyunjin lights up– he always does when Jeongin is mentioned. 

It’s been a lot quieter ever since he left for college. There were so many tears and so many hugs that were met with countless 'you guys are dramatic's in return. But it’s hard to not feel sad when people leave town; when they decide the borders lined with apple trees and rice fields aren’t enough to stop their dreams from blooming into more than what’s capable of being pursued here.

That, unsurprisingly, is something you know all too well.

“Can’t believe he’s driving.” Hyunjin laments as he wipes his floral scissors with a rag. “I used to spend my days changing his diapers and spoon feeding him redbulls– but now? Driving? My baby is all grown up.” he fake sniffles. “By the way, I’m gonna take my fifteen after I’m done snipping these tulips.”

You snort, bending down to take the crates of wilted flowers to the back for disposal. Hyunjin moves to help but you shake him off.

“Sounds good. Also, don’t let Innie hear you say that. I’m about a thousand percent sure he has the strength needed to throw you into the dumpster with one arm now.”

“My baby would never do that to me!” Hyunjin calls out as you round the corner, bumping open the back door with your hip. 

February brings a lot of rain in Jeju. Today is no different; fat drops landing on your head as soon as you stumble out into the alley behind the shop. Footsteps heavy on wet brick, you curse under your breath as you run as fast as you can to the dumpster.

There’s still a few supply boxes from yesterday’s shipment laying around. You meant to bring them in, but you were so exhausted that it slipped your mind while you struggled to make sure everything inside the shop was figured out.

Scrambling, you haul them in one by one, shoes squeaking against the floor as you alternate in and out, soggy cardboard pressed against the front of your apron. 

Hyunjin’s on break. A necessary one at that. You can’t bother him, especially not when he’s done enough by taking on more responsibility both as a physical worker and a newly actualized business partner recently. A few stacks of boxes and wet hair seem like a fair trade off for what he’s had to sacrifice in the past year now.

“Idiot,” you mumble, cursing yourself for carelessness. Your slip ups have been more frequent lately, evident in the way you constantly forget things and can’t seem to push away the haziness clouding your mind. 

If it weren’t for the timing of it all, you’d blame it on the weather. The gloominess. The overcast skies probably have some sort of hand in your lack of clarity. Shrouded.

But it’s February. And in Jeju— it rains.

By the time you make it back inside, you’re drenched. 

“You look like you just got dunked in a pool.” 

You frown, ringing your hair out into the trash bin by the door. It’ll definitely take time to dry off, both your hair and your clothes are soaked through.

Hyunjin watches with an amused look, arms crossed as he leans his back against the counter.

“Might as well have. It’s insane out there.” you sigh. “How was your break?”

You look up to find that his face has gone unreadable.

“Yeah, about that…” Hyunjin trails off, voice suddenly smaller than before.

“Everything okay?” 

“Yeah, yeah it’s just–” Hyunjin chews at his bottom lip.

You push past him into the supply room to switch out your apron just as he says, “Do you mind if I leave a little early today?”

You scoff, turning to face him. “Hwang Hyunjin,” you scold, lips twitching when he visibly startles at your tone, “You don’t have to ask me that. We’re partners now, remember? We run this place.” 

He shifts on his feet, still unsure.

“Besides,” you huff, tying a knot behind your back, “We were friends way before that, too. You don’t have to be all proper with me. Of course you can leave early. It’s slow today, I can take care of it.”

Hyunjin sighs after contemplating for a second. “Are you sure you’ll be okay, though?” 

When he stares at you for a moment too long, you know the real reason for his hesitation. It makes something twist deep in your gut.

Guilt, maybe, amongst other things.

“Of course.” you shrug, doing your best to seem nonchalant. 

Hyunjin’s ability to read people is kind of intense, a little scary at times. You happen to be one of his favorite subjects in that regard.

“Have fun. Tell Minah I said hi.”

He pales, sputtering around words as he struggles to say something. It’s cute, his plump lips opening and closing, eyes wild.

“I’m not going to see her! I’m–it’s just a movie! How did you—God, you’re so annoying. I should’ve made you trim the tulips. Hah!”

You giggle. “It’s funny that you think I wouldn’t know, especially with the way you love to actually make yourself look busy whenever she stops by to say hi.”

“I am busy.” he mumbles, looking away. “I just emphasize it a lot more when she’s here.”

“Sure,” you roll your eyes, “Let’s go with that.”

He whines a couple more times, trails after you around the shop and laughs when you swat him away with a rolled up newspaper that’s used for wrapping vases.

It’s loud. Easy. Hyunjin is a gentle reminder that normalcy still exists in your day to day, even if it’s hard to find. 

When he finally decides to leave, he lingers for a moment, triple checks that you’ll be okay. You roll your eyes for what feels like the millionth time today, but deep down you’re grateful. 

“Love you,” he says, one foot out the door. “Call me if you need anything.”

You shake your head, ignoring him. “Love you too.” 

And then he’s gone, a skip in his step as he heads down the sidewalk, leaving you with nothing but freshly-trimmed tulips and the sound of rain. 

“Herb snips, shears, tape…” you mumble, scanning the supply shelf. 

There’s not much to do in-shop right now. Almost all the arrangements have been tended to by Hyunjin already, his specialty being his keen eye. That’s why he handles the appeal of the shop, leaving you to figure out all the logistics. Learning it all was easier said than done.

In reality, it was never your intention to take over the shop at all. 

“When I die,” your grandma would always say, ignoring the way you groaned and begged her to stop bringing it up, “Sell this place. Use the money for something worthwhile. A trip to Greece, maybe?”

“Nana,” you would scold, glaring at her where she stood next to you, trimming a batch of roses.

Wrinkled hands that still held all the skill of youth. Fingers moving at a speed others could only ever dream of having– you included.

Your grandma handled flowers with the same amount of care she did everything else. It’s no wonder that when they grew they would lean in her direction, drawn to her like they would be the sun. 

“I’m not selling this place. It’s too special, too important. A vacation only lasts so long, Nana. This is forever.”

She would smile, turn petals over in her hand. Sometimes the marigolds would match the glow in her eyes, a testament to the belief you harbored as a child that she had the ability to sprout blossoms from her fingertips.

“The one thing you shouldn’t do, my dear, is rely on forever. Because that, too, is uncertain.”

You wish you hadn’t been so hard headed. Wish that you would’ve believed her, taken the time to listen, cherished the moment a little bit longer instead of relying on the promise of tomorrow.

I’m sorry for your loss.

Your grandmother was a wonderful woman.

She’ll be with you in your heart, forever.

Oh, what a lie forever is.

The shop stays empty for the rest of the day. There were a few passersby, all of whom simply stopped to scan the arrangements along the windows before giving a polite nod and carrying on their way. 

Realistically, the shop has no problem with attracting customers. It’s a sight to behold: mid-floor to ceiling windows with various displays, hanging baskets of winding greenery, countless arrangements that fill the shelves and add a pop of color, and a wide assortment of flowers for each season. 

The real issue lies in your inability to sell. Most people regard the place as being good for nothing more than window shopping and the usual photo-op.

Business has slowed since your Grandma passed; since you took over as the sole owner and were suddenly face to face with the task of making decisions in the shop’s best interest– both integrity wise and from a business standpoint.

“I know, I know,” you say around the pen cap between your teeth, “You used to be the brains around here, not me. I’m not creative enough for all of this, you know? No matter how much I try to be.”

You look up from where your notebook lays open, dozens of scribbles for arrangement ideas and planning. The picture on the wall stares at you, unmoving, eyes as bright as marigolds.

“Don’t give me that look.” 

She stares. A gaze that holds all the answers while also saying nothing at all.

“Ugh.” you groan, leaning your palms on the desk.

You allow your head to hang forward, defeated, exhaustion flooding your bones. 

Just as you’re about to speak again, to complain about yet another thing that probably has her rolling around in her grave, the bell at the front counter dings.

The clock on the desk reads 6:55pm, five minutes until close. You hadn’t even heard anyone come in.

“Be right there!” you call out, rushing to grab your apron from where you’d thrown it on one of the chairs. 

In your haste, the box of seed packets you’d been inventorying goes tumbling to the floor.

“Fuck,” you mutter, bending down to pick everything up. One more thing to add to the list today. 

Off-kilter. Disoriented. Exhausted. 

You sniffle a few times, blinking against the sting behind your eyes as you stand up to put the box back in its place.

One deep breath, a shake of your shoulders. Just enough to chase it all away until later. 

“Sorry about that,” you say cheerily, pushing past the hanging beads that separate the front of the shop from the back. “How can I help you?”

There’s a stranger, his back turned, attention focused on a batch of tulips. Freshly cut. White, blue, purple.

You realize, belatedly, that you’d forgotten to grab your apron in your haste to clean up the seed packets. Another slip up. Nana always prided herself in her apron, wore it like a badge of honor, raised you to do the same.

Just as you spin around to grab it, the stranger says, “It’s okay. I just, um, I wanted to say hi.”

You freeze. There’s a long moment where his voice rings loud in your ears, reverberates against the walls of your brain until it travels through your blood, the feeling like wildfire in your veins until it settles deep in the pit of your stomach. 

Slowly, you turn, heart clamoring in your chest, threatening to stop altogether as soon as you come face to face with the one person you never thought you’d see again.

Because there, at the front of the store, is Jisung.

Jisung, with wide eyes and parted lips. Jisung, with hair that still curls at the ends and falls in shags around his face. Jisung, broader, more actualized, now grown into his features but still undeniably soft around the edges. Jisung, with thick framed glasses pushed up his nose and silver hoops dangling from his ears. 

A stranger. But undoubtedly Jisung. 

“You look…nice.” he says, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly with his free hand.

Three words is all it takes. Ice turns to fire. The blood that had drained from your face returns with the blaze of a thousand suns, anger burning your throat. 

You reach forward, grab the remote for the neon Open sign and click the power button. Jisung watches in confusion.

“The shop is closed.” you manage on a shaky breath.

Jisung sighs, something heavy. “Listen, I’m—”

“The shop–” you try again, louder, “–is closed.” 

Jisung stares. His eyes are still the same velvety brown; big and round and just as you remember. 

There was once a time where the sight of Jisung in your Grandma’s shop made your heart sing. A soft tune, the thrum of a thousand harps, a song only for him.

His heart-shaped smile as he helped her hammer some of the shelves onto the wall. The sound of his laughter whenever you’d enter a sneezing fit from accidentally rubbing your face with a gloved hand. His rosy cheeks, burnt from the wind whipping past his face as he ran on foot to make sure you were okay the one time an angry customer smashed a vase on the floor and you called him crying.

But now, seeing him here, a stranger in a body you once knew like the back of your hand— it feels wrong. 

“I…” he trails off, registering the way your fists are clenched at your sides. 

“Okay,” he resigns, licking his lips. “I, uh– have a good night.”

He gives you one last look, bottom lip pulled tight between his teeth, and then slips out the door. You watch his retreating figure through the glass panel, dark gray skies muting the sound of your rattling heart.

It’s February. The tulips are in bloom. Jisung is back.

And in Jeju– it rains.

There’s an apple tree in the middle of town where Jisung told you he loved you for the first and last time. 

Off the corner, a few minutes down the road from where your houses stand a mere five hundred feet away from one another.

Your grandparents were farmers. Your grandma started her floral business a few years before you were born, a dream she always had that your grandpa urged her to pursue once he decided to sell the animals to a younger, more capable couple that could take care of them. 

Jisung’s parents, new residents on the island, looking to settle down and start a family. 

That’s how it happens. Yours and Jisung’s story, two authors of the same book, destined since the start.

Jisung was born on the same night your mother left you at your grandparents’ doorstep. One note, an apology, is all you’ve ever known about her. Your grandma never cared to indulge you. You’re glad in a way. She provided more than enough love to make sure you never felt an absence in her wake. 

The townspeople used to say you and Jisung were soulmates. Something about the heavens knowing he would need a friend, hence why you were delivered that night. From that moment on, the two of you were inseparable. 

Attached at the hip, you and Jisung grew up together. First steps, first birthdays, firsts for everything under the sun.

Jisung was there in the morning to walk with you to school and he was there at night when the two of you tucked into bed, sleepovers a regular occurrence, both of you counting the pale green stick-on stars dotting his ceiling until you fell asleep. 

Jisung was always around. He held your hand and walked with you to the nurse’s office the first time you got stung by a bee. He wiped your eyes when the boy you liked told you he only ever saw you as a friend, your first rejection. He sat with you under the stars the night your grandpa died, your face tucked into his neck as you stained the collar of his shirt with tears until you were too tired to cry. In the years that followed, he took care of you and your grandma like the two of you were his own. 

Jisung, for lack of a better word, was your first forever.

“You could come with me, you know.” 

Under the stars, real ones that time, Jisung had turned to you and offered the world. 

The air was cold. The apple tree was bare.

“It’ll be fun. We’ll be together, we’ll experience new things. I can do music and you can study all that history stuff you like to learn about. You know, nerdy things.”

“They’re not nerdy things, Ji. Don’t you know everything we have now is because of what’s happened before us?” you’d asked. “Doesn’t it make you wonder? Learning about the past helps us better understand the present, and ultimately the future.”

Jisung had hummed softly, an agreement. “I don’t care about the future, though.” he’d said. “I care about right now. You, me, this.” 

When you turned to look at him, he propped himself up on one elbow and stared down at you from above as the moon casted a halo around his head. 

“I love you,” he whispered, “And I want you to come with me.”

Jisung, with all the stars in his eyes and a heart full of dreams. Jisung, with the world at his fingertips and the ambition to make it his own. 

You, with all your hopes stuffed tight into a suitcase and chained to a boulder, thrown into the ocean. Sinking and sinking until it hit the bottom.

“I love you too,” you whispered back.

Images of marigolds flashed behind your eyes when you closed them, a tear rolling down your cheek. Jisung’s mouth was soft when he kissed it away, salt on his lips. Burning. 

“But I can’t.” you choked. 

Under the apple tree, Jisung told you he loved you for the first and last time. He promised that the distance would be no match for him, that he would traverse oceans to find his way back. He promised forever.

It was February. The tulips were in bloom. Jisung left to pursue his dreams with a guitar on his back and your heart in his hands. Your understanding of forever was shot at point blank. The bullet passed clean through you. 

And in Jeju– it rained.

“I think you should talk to him.”

The sun is out today. Perfect weather for another field harvest. The distributor had called you early in the morning to ask if you’d be willing to accept a drop off even though it’s the weekend. You’d agreed, calling in your most reliable help for the job.

“And I think you’re not helping.” you huff, snipping the head off another hyacinth.

“Agreed,” Hyunjin parrots from beside you, currently in the middle of putting together an arrangement, “This guy sounds like a total dick.”

Chan sighs from behind the two of you, his knees knocking against the legs of the desk when he swivels back and forth in the chair. 

Besides Hyunjin and Jeongin, both of whom moved into town after you’d already graduated, and of course, Jisung– Chan is your oldest friend. 

Chan was also a neighbor of yours. Three years older than you and Jisung, he was the one who acted as a role model for the two of you when growing up. Nowadays he helps his parents run the largest orange grove on the island during the day and DJs one of the clubs in the tourism hub at night. 

“Jisung’s not a dick, he’s just–”

“An asshole.” you finish, smirking when Hyunjin cackles. 

Chan sighs. Again. “Yeah okay, I’ll give you that one.”

“Listen, I know I’ve never met him, but isn’t it weird that he just, like, showed up?” Hyunjin asks, setting down his scissors. You continue trimming the hyacinths, listening halfheartedly.

“I mean, think about it. Dude disappears to pursue music, right? He’s gone for what– three years?”

“Four.” you correct.

“God, even worse.” he grimaces.

“But yeah, okay, four years. And then boom! He just strolls in through the front door without so much as a word during the time he was gone? No letters, no phone calls, not even a damn visit. Nothing! All so he can pop up and go ‘oh, you look nice’? Come on.” he scoffs, crossing his arms.

You wince, caught off guard because you’ve never really heard it phrased as bluntly as Hyunjin put it just then. It’s no surprise that he’s annoyed, having only just heard the full story thirty minutes ago. He’d been shocked, partly because you never told him and also because he just couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

“Okay, yes, he was wrong for that. But isn’t part of you even just the least bit curious as to why?” 

You pause mid-snip, mulling Chan’s words over in your head.

The most frustrating part about it all is that you are curious. You wish you weren’t, though. Not when you’ve spent the past four years trying to convince yourself that you don’t need to know what Jisung’s been up to, don’t need to know if he’s been okay since he clearly held no concern for you in that regard anyways.

“What?” you ask when you realize that both boys are staring at you. 

“Well?” Hyunjin pushes. “Are you?”

You shrug. “No, not really.” 

There’s a total of five seconds that pass before Hyunjin is stomping over and hauling Chan up out of his chair, pushing him towards the front door as he protests.

“Out! Out, out, out, we have important business matters to discuss.”

“But we were supposed to get lunch—!”

“We’re taking a rain check!” Hyunjin fights back, shoving him out of the shop before he has a chance to answer. He drops the shade to cover the glass, Chan’s sad figure left alone on the other side.

You gape at him. “What was that for?”

Hyunjin scoffs. “You think you’re convincing? Think again.” 

He hops up on to the counter and gestures for you to do the same. When you do, he pulls you closer, grabs your hand in his, and pushes your head down until it’s resting on his shoulder. 

“Tell me the truth now,” he says, soft. “I know there’s more to it.”

Hyunjin’s warm to the touch. The heat seeps through the fabric of his shirt, igniting the skin of your cheek until you feel like you’re standing too close to the sun. A star. Hyunjin is a light in your tunnel.

“I am curious,” you start, “About him, I mean. I’ve– I don’t know. It’s been so long. I tried to pretend I didn’t care when I saw him, but the minute I looked into his eyes it was like I was eighteen again. Eighteen and happy and looking at someone that I always thought would be there, you know?” 

Hyunjin hums but doesn’t say anything. He squeezes your hand once, a signal to keep going. 

“I’m scared, though. Part of me doesn’t want to know.”

Hyunjin takes a deep breath. “What are you scared of?”

Through the gaps in the beads you can see into your office, the picture of your Grandma hanging on the wall. She stares at you, unblinking. 

“What if he tells me that it’s true?” you ask, lifting your head to look up at him. “What if he says that I was right, that he didn’t care? That he left and didn’t want to call because it no longer mattered to him? That he loves his life there and only came back to clear his own conscience?” 

“Oh honey,” Hyunjin soothes, pulling you into his chest. You hadn’t realized you were crying, that the anger and fear had bubbled over until there were tears falling down your cheeks, wetting the fabric of Hyunjin’s sweater. 

He lets you cry for a while. It’s nothing new; Hyunjin has seen you break down countless times. He’s been there through the worst of it, held your hand even in the aftermath. He’s picked you up off the floor more times than you can count, has grounded you when you felt like the world was gonna open up beneath you and swallow you whole. Salt of the earth, returning you to its core.

Once you’ve quieted into nothing more than shallow breaths and a few scattered hiccups, Hyunjin speaks again.

“Can you be honest with me?”

You nod, the hair stuck to your cheek with tears rubbing against his shoulder. 

“Do you love him?”

It nearly knocks the wind out of you. This concept, so foreign to you now, shoved to the back of your mind to make room for the things that matter most. Hospital visits, labor cuts, wage increases— none of it left any room for love, let alone the thought of someone else. Especially someone as all-consuming as Jisung.

Slowly, you inhale, breath shaking on the exhale. Hyunjin squeezes your hand to remind you that he’s there.

“I don’t think I ever stopped, Hyune.”

The silence stretches thin. The realization is dizzying. Years of suppressed emotions, of telling yourself and everyone around you that it wasn’t a big deal. The sad eyes of the townspeople whenever they’d see you sitting beneath the apple tree. The gentle touch of your grandma’s hand when she’d find you on the front steps alone, staring at the stars. The soft hum of the radio in the shop, set to a playlist of all the songs he’s written, the only reminder that somewhere out there he was doing well.

The final crack in the dam, its water pushing until it gives way.

“Then you owe it to yourself,” Hyunjin says. “You owe it to your heart to get an answer. Free yourself from this pain, love. Don’t let yourself suffer forever.”

Forever. That word again. No matter how many times you’ve tried to escape it, it always comes back.

“It’s gonna hurt.” he sighs, tightening his grip when you sniffle. “It’s gonna hurt so fucking bad, babe. But you can take it. You’ve got people who love you enough to stand in front of you and soften the blow from time to time. But you’ll be okay. I’ll make sure of it.”

He hops down from the counter and moves to stand in front of you, right between your legs. Placing both hands on your shoulders, he pushes until you’re sitting with your back straight and lifts your chin. 

“You deserve an answer.” he says, with conviction this time. “Okay?”

He lets his thumb swipe beneath your eyes, smiles softly. Unconditional— that’s what he is. Hyunjin burns brighter than any star in your sky, the heat wrapping its arms around you like it’s too scared to let go, to watch you freeze and die out like so many others. 

“I don’t deserve you, though.” you say, laughing wetly when he rolls his eyes.

“Shut up,” he chuckles, pulling you in for a hug, “You deserve everything and more.”

When Jisung comes into the shop two days later, you’re ready for it. 

Chan had talked to him. No surprise, really, not when he’s been letting him crash in his spare room ever since he figured out that he was holed up in one of the hotels out in the tourism hub. 

If there’s one thing about Chan, it’s that he’d rip the shirt off his back to clothe anyone in need. Housing a friend is nothing, especially when that friend is Jisung.

“I don’t know how much of a consolation this is,” he’d said nervously, watching as you regarded him with an expectant look, “But he’s pretty cut up about you not wanting to see him. Which, I know, is stupid. He is the one who fucked up. But I just– I don’t know. I’ve never seen him like this, I guess.”

It’s not a consolation, not really. Knowing that Jisung is struggling is far from anything you want to hear. 

Sure, there’s anger present. Anyone would be stupid to not feel the least bit frustrated with what’s happened. Years lost, time stripped away. But you’ve long since come to terms with it, the anger turning to sadness in the meantime.

“Also, he leaves tomorrow.” Chan smiled sadly. “He really wants to talk to you before then.”

Hyunjin left early again today to give the two of you space. Not before making a show of his own though, threatening to incite violence with his arms that are supposedly ‘shredded’ from years of lifting boxes filled with petunias. 

The shop is slow again, not many sales nor a lot of foot traffic. Usually when the sun is out there’s more to do; people to see, smiles to give. But there’s nothing, just the chirping of birds and the sound of cars rolling by. 

Maybe the world knows that this is what you need. The calm before the storm. 

Five minutes until close. You’ve spent most of the day pacing back and forth. Waiting. Anticipating. 

Chan had said Jisung planned on stopping by, trying again. You’d told him that was okay, and his eyes lit up. Too much hope, maybe, that something might come of this. 

You’re seated in the back office, staring at marigold colored irises when the front door opens. You hear it this time, ears fine tuned, waiting. 

Slowly, you stand, make your way to the front. You don’t realize you’re holding your breath until you pull back the beaded curtain and Jisung’s figure comes into view. 

He looks the same as he did the other day: curled hair, thick glasses, parted lips. His sweater, fluffy and striped, hangs off of his shoulders in a way that boxes off his tapered waist, one that you know is hidden beneath all the layers. The sleeves are way too long judging by the way it curls over his fingers. 

“Hi.” he breathes out, watching as you step into full view.

You blink. “Hi, Jisung.”

His name feels weird on your tongue. Bitter. It’s been years since you uttered it, forbidding yourself from the luxury out of fear that it would make his absence more real. Talking about him in the past tense always scared you off before you could even get the chance. 

“How– How’ve you been?” he chews on the inside of his lip.

You want to scold him, tell him to stop the habit just like you always would in the past. He’d make a joke then, tell you to kiss him so that he had something else to do instead. You would laugh, feign disgust, but in the back of your mind you’d wanted it more than anything. 

You’d waited for it, the day you could kiss him without warning and melt into his touch as he kissed you back. Another stupid bet on forever; the belief that you had all the time in the world for things to get to that point.

“I’ve been better.” you say, taking a deep breath. “What about you?”

Good, you think. He’s been good. He looks good. He doesn’t need this place.

“Me too.” he says instead. “I’ve been better.”

You don’t know what to say to that. Silence fills the room, heavy on both your chests. The anticipation feels like it might kill you before anything else does. 

“I’m sorry that–”

“Is that all you came here to say?” you cut him off.

“What?” he asks, confused. “No, I– no.”

“What, then? What is it you want to say, Jisung?” your voice is firm. He winces when his name leaves your mouth. “Because, honestly, I’ve waited all this time to hear literally anything from you, and if all that comes out of this is that you’ve ‘been better’ I might actually lose my fucking mind.”

The words tumble out faster than you intend. You can’t help it, not with the way anxiety has been bubbling over in your chest since the moment you woke up this morning. You could barely sleep last night, not when you were playing out every possible scenario in your head, the anticipation of it all making your sheets feel scratchy against your skin and the lumps in your pillow more discernible. 

“No, no, of course I wouldn’t do that.” he says quickly. “It's just that I didn’t know where to start. I don’t know how much you’ll allow me to say, what the boundary is here. I didn’t want to just barge in and demand you listen to me. You don’t owe me that. You don’t owe me anything. Not after what I did.”

What I did, his voice rings loud in your ears. He’s aware of it, of the pain he caused. 

He takes a step forward, and then another, again and again until he’s right up against the front counter, an arm’s length away. 

Your breath catches then, when you see him up close for the first time in four years, see the way he’s grown and changed with your own eyes. 

Stubble dotting his chin, laugh lines around his mouth, the dip and curve of the bow above his lips that you always loved. Brown eyes, soil and stardust. 

“Tell me what your conditions are,” he says quietly, “And I’ll give you every explanation I have.”

The sincerity on his face is blinding. Your stomach twists at the thought of hearing what he has to say, that same fear brewing in the pit of it. You take a deep breath, feel the phantom ghost of a hand squeezing yours and a crescent moon eye smile. 

“I waited four years for you.” you say.

“I know.”

“I trusted that you’d be back. That you would keep in touch during the time you were gone.”

“I–” his voice cracks. “I know.”

“You lied to me.”

Jisung tips his head back then. Swallows down a lump in his throat. Blinks rapidly at the ceiling, veins of ivy crawling along the expanse of it.

“I know.”

“So you owe me everything. I deserve that. I deserve answers.”

When he brings his head down to look at you, it’s unreadable. A mix of emotions that you aren’t familiar enough with anymore to decipher. Fear, guilt, sorrow. Hope, too. Maybe.

You stare at him head on, fully letting your eyes meet for the first time in what feels like an eternity. He holds your gaze, unwavering. Determined. The sight makes your heart clench. 

“Okay,” he says after a beat of silence. “Okay. I can do that.”

Despite the ever-growing mountain of things to address, you decide that the first thing you want to hear from Jisung is about his time in Seoul. 

You’re only human, after all.

Best friends from the start– you can’t stop yourself from wondering what life has been like for him. Jisung’s always been good at storytelling, animated in his features and gestures to the point that you’d be rolling around and clutching your stomach from laughter. It’s one of the things you missed the most, just talking and being present in one another’s lives.

The two of you end up at one of the diners down the road. The owners, an elderly couple, coo as soon as they catch sight of you.

“My flower girl,” the old lady, Mrs. Kim, greets.

“Mrs. Kim,” you beam, moving in for a hug. When you pull away, Jisung is behind you, hands clasped behind his back and feet together like he has his tail between his legs.

“Halmeoni,” you say, gesturing at him, “Do you remember Jisungie?” 

His eyes go wide at the nickname, and you try to ignore the heat creeping up your neck, avoiding his gaze and instead watching as Mrs. Kim blinks in surprise.

“Oh! Oh my goodness, our Jisungie? Honey! Honey, look, Jisung is here! Oh you crazy boy,” she scolds, rushing forward to hit his shoulder and pull him in for a hug. “Where have you been? It’s been ages!” 

Jisung lets out an oof! as her body slams into him, all of his anxiousness dissolving into laughter as he hugs her back. 

“Hi Mrs. Kim, how have you been?” 

“Me?” she asks, pulling him away to hold at arm’s length, “Nevermind about me! I’m old! How have you been?”

Good, you think again, a mimic of earlier. Jisungs eyes flit over to yours for the smallest of moments before he answers.

“Better,” he says. “I’m doing better.”

Once both Mr. and Mrs. Kim are done doting over the both of you, they seat you by the window.

The island is always beautiful on sunny days: trees swaying, golden rays painting the rooftops in hues of pink and orange, the indigo shimmer of the ocean off in the distance.

“So,” you say, catching Jisung’s attention, “Tell me about Seoul.”

He hums. “It’s busy. Stinks. Lots of people.”

“Dream come true, yeah?” you joke, taking a sip of your water.

Jisung chuckles. “You could say that, I guess.”

“I mean, it was yours.”

“It was.” he sighs, looking down at the table. “I don’t know. It’s nice. I met good people, made even better connections. I live in this one bedroom studio apartment just outside of Itaewon, so I’m close to where all the foreigners hang out. I’ve learned a lot, gained a lot of inspiration for my music.”

You follow along, staring at him intently. His mouth, still heart-shaped, twitches when he catches you in the act.

You clear your throat, glancing away. “Yeah, I’ve– uh, I’ve heard some of your songs.”

He raises his eyebrows, almost like he hadn’t expected you to say that. “Really?”

“Yeah. I mean, I hear them on the radio sometimes.” A lie. “It usually takes me a second to realize that it’s you.” Another lie. “But they’re good, you’re doing well.”

Pink dusts the tops of Jisung’s cheeks as he turns back to the window, clearing his throat.

He looks younger like this, like he’s still the same boy who would sit across from you all those years ago. Cherry-stained lips and a smile so bright it put the sun to shame.

He talks a bit more about his music, about how he’s with a good company that gives him creative freedom and enough support to pursue more if he desires.

His eyes light up when he tells you about his studio, a small room on the fifth floor of a building in the middle of the city where he does all of his writing. It’s equipped with an entire soundboard, full of instruments that he says he’s been able to get signed by artists that come in and out. Most notably, his guitar, the same one he left with. 

Slowly, like a flower blossoming, petals opening one by one, you feel yourself falling back into step with him.

Everything is so familiar: the curve of his smile, the tilt in his voice when he gets excited, the rumble of laughter when he recounts an embarrassing run-in with an A-list celebrity in the company’s cafeteria. He shares stories that fill your heart as the two of you fill your stomachs.

But with the ease comes something more, something you recognize as longing. You hadn’t realized how much you longed to be there through this part of his life, how you wished you’d been the one to answer a video call as he showed off his apartment the first day he moved in, his company badge when it was newly issued, every moment of happiness that you’d been absent for just as much as he was absent for yours.

He seems to share the same sentiment then, when he sets down his fork and stares at his empty plate. 

“You run the shop now,” he says, “How’s that been?”

You purse your lips, nodding your head slowly. You knew this conversation would happen, that it was coming.

“It’s good, I guess. Been almost a year now since, uh, it was left to me.” you shrug. “I’m not alone though, Hyunjin is a big help. I don’t know what I’d do without him.”

Jisung noticeably bristles. Eyebrows pulled together, staring more intently at a crumb on his plate. It looks like there’s a lot he wants to say, like he can’t find the words to say them.

So, naturally, you do it for him. 

“I assume Chan told you so I wouldn’t have to, by the way.”

He looks up then, as if he wasn’t expecting you to address the very obvious elephant in the room.

“He did, yes.” Jisung says after a while. His voice is quiet, gentle, like he’s walking on eggshells. “I– I didn’t know how to bring it up. I assume you’ve heard it all already but– I really, really am sorry to hear about Nana.”

The way her name sounds coming out of his mouth turns your mind to static.

Suddenly you’re in the hospital again, monitors beeping, hands as soft as petals cradled in your own and wishing that you could bury your face in a familiar neck as you cried and watched the marigolds wilt. 

“I don’t need an apology for that.” you croak, blinking back tears. Jisung is somewhere in your periphery, your vision blurry around the edges.

“It wasn’t sad. Her life, I mean. It was full. Of love. Of light. She left this place happy. That’s what she told me, at least.”

You take a deep breath. “So don’t be sorry about it.”

Jisung sniffles, and the sound shoots straight through your chest. 

“I know. I just– I’m sorry I wasn’t here. I should’ve been. I had no idea that–”

“Nobody did, Jisung. Don’t punish yourself for that.”

He sees it then, when you finally meet his eyes, the acceptance. You’ve come to terms with things a long time ago, have fought tooth and nail to come out on the other side of all the guilt and resentment and grief alive. Scathed, but alive nonetheless.

“You’re right.” he sighs, wiping at his eyes quickly. “She’d probably yell at me for saying that.”

You laugh, suddenly, the noise startling him. Jisung looks at you like you’re crazy.

“I think she has a lot more to yell at you for than being sorry that she died.”

The bluntness punches a chuckle out of him, and you giggle at the thought.

Your grandmother was always such an outspoken person. She always said what was on her mind, speaking it loud. There’s no doubt that if she was here she’d be berating Jisung, smacking him upside the head before pulling him into a hug and cooking his favorite meal. Tough love, but still, love.

“She would’ve loved to be able to see you.” you say once your laughter dies out, the air a bit lighter between the two of you. “She always wondered if you’d grow your hair out without her around to nag you about keeping it short.” 

He reaches up to run a hand through his curls, the strands falling around his face in a way that has your heart stammering in your chest.

“Well, clearly I don’t know how to listen.”

“No, you don’t.”

Jisung smiles softly. “Maybe I’ll cut it now. You know, since I’m here. And because I know she’d want me to.”

You watch him carefully, searching his eyes. For what, you don’t know. All that’s in them are stars. 

“Yeah,” you say quietly. “You’re here.”

By the time the two of you leave the diner, stomachs full and enough bags of extra side dishes hanging off of your arms to last you at least two weeks, courtesy of Mrs. Kim, the sun is almost fully set. 

The ocean is calm, the evening breeze just barely brushing the surface of the tide. Jisung walks in step with you down the street, one side of his face cast in a glow from the sun’s fading rays. 

“Do you think you’d maybe want to stop by the arcade that Old Man Park runs? Just for a little?”

You snort. “Why? So I can embarrass you?”

“Hey!” he puts a hand on his chest, offended. “I’ll have you know that I let you win all those times.”

“How do you let someone win after spending hours practicing while I worked at the shop?”

“I was being nice!”

“Uh huh.”

“Don’t believe me?” he grins. You try not to look, afraid of how bad your blood pressure might spike from the sight. 

“I’ll have you know that I’m one of the best Kart Rider players in the PC Bang scene back in Seoul.”

“Jisung,” you scold, “That’s a computer game. These are coin-ops. There’s way more skill needed.”

“No there isn’t!”

He knocks his shoulder against yours, tucking his chin to his chest to hide his smile when you try to fight back.

It’s easy. Nice. There’s a soft melody echoing in the dust-covered chambers of your heart. You still know all the chords.

Old Man Park’s arcade is a few doors down from the shop. You stop there to drop off the food, spare a glance in the mirror hanging in your office to fix your hair.

Your grandma’s picture stares at you from the other wall, eyes bright.

“Love you,” you say, kissing the skin of your fingertips and pressing it gently against the frame.

Jisung is toeing at a few rocks on the sidewalk when you walk back out. He doesn’t see you, too busy with his eyes casted down at the concrete, hands shoved into his pockets. 

It’s still hard to believe that he’s here. Flesh and bone. For a long time it felt like he was nothing but a distant dream, someone who only existed in the memories that you kept locked deep within your heart, the key somewhere on the streets of Seoul.

“Ready?” you ask.

He looks up, his glasses moving when his cheeks round into a smile.

Something passes across his face– a myriad of emotions in just a fraction of a second. Hesitantly, he holds out his hand. Long, delicate fingers.

You stare at it, swallowing roughly around the butterfly wings flapping inside your throat. 

The one thing you shouldn’t do, my dear, is rely on forever. Because that, too, is uncertain.

Forever isn’t promised. But even then, there are things you know for sure:

It’s February. The tulips are in bloom. Jisung is here. Living, breathing, in the flesh. 

So you take his hand, watch as relief floods his features, and let yourself feel.

The wind in your hair, the calluses on Jisung’s palms, and the warmth radiating out of the smile that threatens to split his face into two.

And with that certainty, the two of you start walking. A silent agreement to focus on the now.

You. Him. This.

“God, I can’t believe everything is only one coin.”

You laugh, watching as the multi-colored lights cast a glow on Jisung’s face. 

“Stop acting like you don’t remember this place.”

“I don’t!” he argues, smiling. “We stopped coming here, what, in middle school? Once Chan hyung started driving? We would always ask him to take us to the other one out in the big town!”

Chan’s first car was an old Camry with leather seats and enough room for the three of you to pile into after school. Used, but still with enough juice to satisfy three young kids who felt like they were on top of the world.

You used to sit in the back, the wind whipping your hair every which way while yours and Jisung’s hands lay side by side in the middle seat, pinkies brushing but neither of you willing to take it further. 

“Oh, shit!” Jisung gasps, letting go of your hand as he runs up to the space invaders machine. 

“Here we go,” you sigh, following after him. He’s like a kid in a candy store, face filled with innocent wonder and joy.

“Aren’t there, like, I don’t know– things better than this in Seoul?” you ask as he shoves a coin into the game.

Jisung turns to look at you with a devilish grin. “Obviously,” he says, “But I can’t beat anyone’s high score over there. Here though? Ha! This place is ancient. I can finally be at the top of the leaderboard in something.”

“We’ll see about that.” you mumble, the noise of the game booting up drowning you out. 

Jisung sticks his tongue out when he focuses really hard on things. It’s cute, the way the end of it sits between his lips, spit-slick and parted just a little bit.

He’s glowing, probably because of the lights, hues of red and green and blue flashing across his face. But then again, Jisung has always shined brighter than anything. 

The game beeps to signal that he has one life left. He grunts a few times, his fingers tapping the buttons madly as his other hand handles the joystick in a frenzy of movements.

When it ends, he groans, throws his hands up in defeat.. 

You shake your own head knowingly, watching his eyes bug out of their sockets as soon as the leaderboard appears on the screen, the 8-bit letters blinking at him. 

“You’re joking.” he laughs in disbelief, turning to stare at you. “Please tell me you’re joking.” 

There, on the screen, is your name. The highest score. Jeongin and Hyunjin’s names sit just below you, respectively.

“What was that again about finally being able to be at the top?” you mock him, smirking.

“Since when did you get good at this?”

You shrug. “Had to find something to do in my free time.”

“No,” he says, rolling up his sleeves. “Nuh-uh. No way. This is not happening. I will beat you.” he holds out his hand for another coin, to which you roll your eyes and place one in his palm. 

“You might as well give up now. We’ll be here all night.”

“In your dreams.” he scoffs, assuming his position as another round loads onto the screen.  

Jisung has always been competitive. It’s one of his more hidden characteristics. 

It persists still, you realize, as you watch him burn through the styrofoam cup of coins that Old Man Park had given the two of you. Free of charge for old time’s sake.

Fort-five minutes. All he’s managed to do is bump Hyunjin down to fourth.

“Ugh!” he groans, kicking the machine lightly with his foot. 

“Look at you throwing a tantrum.”

“I’m not throwing a tantrum.” he pouts. You raise an eyebrow.

“Okay fine. I’m throwing a tantrum.” 

“Thought so.”

“Can you blame me?” he asks. “This is, like, our first date. And I’m sucking. Hard.”

“Our–” you stop, eyes wide. Jisung mimics you, almost like he didn’t mean to say what he did. 

Heat rushes to your cheeks. Your mind goes blank. But the world doesn’t end. Time keeps moving. Jisung is still here.

“I didn’t–”

“I like the sound of that.” you say quickly. “Of this being our first date, I mean.’

He smiles. Slow and sweet like molasses. Blinding.

“And the fact that you suck.”

The moment is shattered, his resulting whine echoing throughout the arcade.

“Come on you big baby,” you laugh, grabbing his hand. “I know a game you can beat me at.”

He lets himself be pulled, pretending that he’s upset, but you can see the smile tugging at his lips when you lace your fingers together.

The feeling is still new, this ease you have with him. The wounds you sported all those years are still healing, some more fresh than others. But with each laugh that comes out of Jisung’s mouth and shared glance, every note that your heart sings, you can feel them beginning to fade. A balm to soothe the burn.

The Pac-Man game is situated in the back corner of the arcade, right next to the jukebox. It used to be your favorite, because Jisung would always use his own coins to play songs for you while you tried to score higher than twenty-five thousand points. 

When you get there, he frowns. “The only game you think I can beat you at is Pac-Man?” 

“I don’t think,” you say, grabbing a coin before shoving the cup into his chest. “I know.”

The game boots up instantly, and you smile softly to yourself when Jisung moves wordlessly behind you, slips a coin into the jukebox.

“Play something good, Jisungie.”

He freezes. Out of the corner of your eye you watch him stare at you for a long moment. And then he smiles. Stardust.

“You got it.”

In a matter of seconds, Lovers In A Dangerous Time by Bruce Cockburn rings throughout the arcade, the speakers on the ceiling fighting past the static.

An old song. The same one your grandparents would dance to in the mornings, eggs on the stove and love in the air.

Your grandma used to say it was written for them, because when they fell in love the war was at its peak and she didn’t know if he’d ever come home. 

After he passed, she still played it, except those times it was Jisung who twirled her around and painted a smile on her face as you watched from the same spot you grew up in. Always there.

Jisung, Jisung, Jisung. 

When the game starts, you try your best. It’s hard. You’ve always been terrible at anything involving quick decisions. Focusing on everything at once isn’t easy for you, that much is still true. 

“Shit.” you mumble, the top right corner of the screen reading ten thousand points as the ghosts run into you.

Jisung lets out a low whistle. “Harsh.”

“You wanna go back to space invaders and waste the last of our money?” you raise an eyebrow. 

He holds his hands up in surrender. “Sorry, sorry. Go ahead.” he says, holding the cup out for you to take another coin. 

You try a couple more times, failing each and every one. You can tell that Jisung is growing more and more amused with every attempt, and the smugness radiating off of him is starting to rub you the wrong way.

“If you’re so good,” you say after a particularly sad attempt, turning to glare at him. Jisung has his lips pulled tight to stop himself from laughing. “Then why don’t you try?”

He chuckles then. “I’d rather help you, if you’ll let me.”

“How are you supposed to do that? We only have one coin left.”

Jisung doesn’t say anything. He puts the cup down, the last coin held between his fingers. You watch as he slips it into the machine, move to get out of his way once he’s done, but he stops you by grabbing your hand and spinning you back around, his fingers placed over yours on the joystick. 

With your back flush against his front, caged in by his arms on either side, Jisung takes a deep breath.

“This okay?” he asks right next to your ear, the curls on the side of his head brushing your cheek when he leans down to get a better look at the screen.

Warm. He’s so warm. The material of his sweater only worsens the heat, and the faint scent of vanilla makes your head swim.

It’s more than okay. Great, even. It’s Jisung. Everything and more.

“Yeah,” you say, letting him control your hands as he flicks the joystick. “It’s okay.”

The hair against your cheek moves when he smiles. “Good.” he says, and then hits the start button.

The game begins but you’re barely processing what’s happening, too aware of the feeling of his body pressed against yours. 

A firm chest, different from what’s observable on the outside, what with the fluffiness of his sweater and soft features. His arms too, encasing you, the bulge and flex of his biceps every time he moves.

It’s all so intoxicating, so much so that you don’t even realize you’ve beaten the highest score in the system by the time he loses his last life. 

“What?” you blink. “What the hell?!”

You laugh, spinning to face Jisung who’s grinning from ear to ear. In your excitement, you jump, flinging your arms around his neck. He’s surprised, but catches you nonetheless, circling his arms around your waist.

“Holy shit how’d you do that!” you squeal while he swings you around, feet off the ground.

“Magic, I guess.” he chuckles. 

The closeness of his voice brings you crashing back down, suddenly aware of what position you’re both in. You pull back quickly, clear your throat, and watch as his face falls from the loss of contact.

It’s been a long time since you hugged Jisung. The thought transports you to that day four years ago, standing under the apple tree, the future uncertain. Forever promised.

Things are different now.

“Sorry,” he backtracks. “I didn’t– um, I wasn’t trying to–”

You cut him off by throwing yourself at him for a second time. Intentional. Breathless. Tired of running and acting like it’s not the thing you want most in the entire world.

Jisung doesn’t react until he feels your face against the skin of his neck. On instinct, he hugs tight, hands around your waist, breathing in the smell of your hair.

“Hi.” you whisper against him. 

One word. Simple. However the weight of it sends a chill down his spine. It feels like home. 

He tightens his hold. A silent understanding. The two of you never had much of a need for words anyways. 

“Hi.” he whispers back.

The apple tree is much bigger now.

Long, thick branches, a wide trunk, a slight tilt in its shape.

It’s bare. The season is long gone. But it’s okay, because it means that the view of the stars isn’t blocked when you and Jisung lay beneath it.

It’s the same but it isn’t. There’s gaps– periods of time where the two of you grew separately. There are moments and memories tucked away that neither of you know about, whole lives to discover. 

But even so, it feels right. His arm wrapped around you, your head on his chest. The stars and the moon. You and Jisung.

It’s nice. Perfect, even. But there’s a conversation that needs to be had. One that can’t be put off any longer.

“Ji.”

“Hm?”

“Can I ask you something?”

Jisung shifts beneath you, tightening his hold. The grass is damp. Neither of you care, too caught up in each other to stress about whether or not it’ll stain.

“Of course.”

“Am I ever gonna see you again?”

He takes a deep breath. “Yes.”

“You said that last time.”

“I know.”

“So what makes this different?” you ask, sitting up. He watches you carefully, eyes trained on every movement like he’s scared you’ll get up and run away.

When he realizes you’re waiting for an answer, he sits up too, pulls his knees to his chest and wraps his arms around his legs. 

He doesn’t say anything, just wordlessly reaches into his pocket. Silently, he hands whatever he grabbed to you. A guitar pick.

It’s white, a marbled design. Golden flecks infused into the lines. There, on the front, is a singular marigold. When you flip it over, you’re met with a tulip. 

“Do you remember that one time, when you called me crying at midnight because Nana told you that she didn’t know if she’d be able to afford school in the city?”

You nod silently, still turning the guitar pick over in your hand. 

It was one of those nights where the rain was relentless. Monsoon season always tagged on to the tail end of the school year, bringing with it a more intense gloominess than usual. 

You’d been angry. Stressed. Irritated that other kids at school were making plans to go to the mainland for college and you were stuck helping your grandmother trim foliage and wrap vases in newspaper.

“You told me that you couldn’t do it anymore.” Jisung whispered, staring up at the sky. “That you were tired of being here. That you needed to get out.”

You remember. Jisung had walked through the rain to show up at your window. Had climbed in with muddy shoes and sat on the floor of your room with you until the downpour stopped and your tears dried.

“And I said that I would make it happen, that I would invent a way to live amongst the stars so you could be as far from here as possible.”

“So what?” you ask, looking at him. “Did you finally do it, then? Is that why you came back?”

“Don’t be like that.”

“No, Jisung, I’m gonna fucking be like that.” you scoff, rising to your feet. 

There’s a fire in your veins, stoked until the embers are burning hot against your throat. Too good to be true. You should’ve known that there was no explanation left for him to give.

Jisung scrambles to his feet. “It wasn’t like I wanted to–”

“Oh like hell you did.” you say, turning to face him. “Four years, Jisung. I waited four years and you just– you come back and decide to tell me about some make-believe bullshit to save yourself and feel less guilty about the fact that you left.”

“It wasn’t make-believe to me,” he argues. “It was real. Everything I said was real. I left and I tried for years to make something of myself so I could come back here and get you.”

“Oh so it’s my fault? I made you leave, is that it?”

“That’s not what I said.”

“So then say something else!” you yell. The stars rumble, threatening to fall out of the sky. “Say something else, then, Jisung. Why didn’t you call? Huh?”

“Because I–” he stops, licks his lips. “God. Fuck. I couldn’t face you if I had nothing to show for myself, okay? It wasn’t fair to you for me to leave you behind just so I could fail.”

“Ha!” you laugh, running a hand through your hair in disbelief. “So you decided to go radio silent instead? Decided to not only leave me alone but let me suffer and wonder about where you were because that’s so much better than telling me that you were struggling, right? Great choice, Jisung. Really.”

He blinks a few times, watching as you pace back and forth in the grass. 

Anger bubbles deep in your gut. This whole time, he knew. It was a conscious decision. Jisung deliberately didn’t contact you because he chose not to.

“Did you ever even love me?”

The words tumble out before you can stop them. Jisung’s entire body goes rigid, his face falling and eyes hardening within a fraction of a second.

“Watch what you say.” he says, his voice low in his chest.

“I wouldn’t have to if you’d just be honest.”

“I’m trying.” he pleads. His eyes are glossy. Big and round behind his glasses. Illuminated by the moon. 

“I fucked up, okay? I prioritized myself and the way I felt over you and fucked everything up. But I tried. I tried so fucking hard. And I’m sorry it took me so long but I wanted– no–  I needed to make sure that I had everything figured out before I came back. I promised I would.”

“No, Jisung, you promised me that–”

“I’m not talking about you.” he says then, taking a deep breath. “You weren’t the only one I made promises to back then.”

Before you have a chance to speak, Jisung says, “I promised her. I told her I’d get you out of here. That I’d give you a life that you deserved, because she knew she couldn’t.”

You drop to your knees when the first sob hits, the force of it racking your body so hard you feel like you’re drowning. Jisung catches you on the fall, holds you up, lets you bury your face into his neck like he had so many times before.

“She told me you believed in forever. She wanted me to give that to you. I’m sorry it took me so long.”

Jisung lets you cry. He holds you through the storm, your wails as loud as thunder and tears as heavy as rain. Four years in the making; the sky and the earth colliding until the dirt and layers of sediment give way to the molten core that’s been hiding beneath the surface all along.

Pain. Grief. All of it pent up and leading to this moment. 

“You should’ve told me.” you cry, beating a fist into Jisung’s chest. “You idiot. You fucking idiot. You should’ve told me.” 

Jisung pulls you in closer, takes each hit as long as it means that it’ll soften the blow on your heart. He whispers apologies in your ear, runs a hand through your hair. 

When it quiets again, the worst of the storm gone, he shifts so that your head is in his lap, his legs crossed and tucked beneath him. A few stray tears wet the fabric of his jeans, your eyes focused on the field of flowers across the street.

“I won’t ask you to come with me.” he says after a long while, when your breathing has evened out. “I know that things are different. You have a life here that you’ve made for yourself, responsibilities to bear as well.”

He pauses to push a few strands of hair out of your face. His fingers are gentle against the skin of your cheek.

“But I promise it’ll be different. I spent too long away from you, was too selfish for my own good. I won’t disappear again. I’ll call every day. I’ll visit. You’ll get every part of me that I kept away from you all this time, and I’ll get every part of you in return.”

Your heart thrums. The thought of having what you’ve wanted for so long. Of having Jisung.

“And when you’re ready, when you feel like you can’t do it anymore, there’ll be a place for you.”

His voice is firm. Confident. More sure than he’s ever sounded before in his life.

When you turn to face him, he’s already staring back. Jisung, with all the stars in his eyes and a heart full of dreams. Jisung, with the world at his fingertips and the offer to make it yours.

Under the apple tree, Jisung leans down and kisses you for the first time. Twenty four years in the making, soft and slow, his lips a perfect fit against yours. A starboy and his flower girl. His glow is so bright it makes blossoms sprout from her fingertips.

Soft curls tickle your eyelids when he pulls away to rest his forehead against yours. You reach up to run a hand through them, smiling softly when he presses a kiss to the tip of your nose. 

“I love you.” you say first this time. 

He reaches out a hand, closes it over your fist that’s still clutching the guitar pick. A marigold and a tulip, both working together to make a perfect harmony. 

“I love you, too.” Jisung whispers back. “Forever.”

Jisung stops by the shop early to say goodbye.

There’s less tears this time, less of a reason to be sad. But still, when he wraps his arms around you, vanilla filling your nose and curls against your face, you feel your composure crumble.

“Every day.” he says, repeating the same thing he did all night. “I promise. Morning and night. Also at lunch. Oh, and on your days off. Matter of fact, you can call when you’re on the toilet too.”

The last part earns him an elbow to the ribs, his laughter bubbling up and out of his throat as he tries to dodge any and all subsequent attacks.

He kisses you stupid before he goes, Chan rolling his eyes from his car out front. You flip him off blindly, Jisung’s lips still attached to yours, earning a loud honk in response.

When he leaves, the shop is quiet, the only sound being the buzzing of your phone as Jisung blows it up with text messages the second the car pulls away.

You’re too busy replying, giggling to yourself when a slew of cute emoticons start appearing one by one, that you nearly fall over out of your chair when Hyunjin bursts through the door.

“Jesus Christ Hyune, did you have to–”

“What the hell are you doing here?” he asks, breathless. 

“Uh,” you blink, glancing round. “Working?”

“Is Jisung not on a damn plane right now?”

“I mean he’s on his way to the airport. Chan is–”

“Chan hyung told me that Jisung wanted you to go with him.” Hyunjin says, brow furrowed.

You sigh. “He didn’t want me to go with him. Well, okay, he did. But I told him I can’t just pick up and leave. He knows that. Nana left this place to me and–”

“You are so stupid.” Hyunjin sighs. 

“Excuse me?” you ask. You stand up, crossing your arms as you walk closer to the counter. 

“Come on. We have to go.”

“Go where, Hyunjin? I’m not leaving to–”

He cuts you off, places an envelope on the wooden surface. “And I am not letting you stay here and pretend that this is what you want.”

“What is that?” 

“A plane ticket.” he says, pushing it towards you. “To Seoul.”

Your mouth opens and closes, lost for words. Hyunjin is already moving around the counter, pushing past you with an expression the most serious you’ve ever seen on him.

“Hyunjin I– I can’t– where did you even…?”

“Chan hyung has a friend.” he mumbles as he begins pulling stuff out of the office. Your planning notebook, your apron, the picture of your grandma off the wall. All of it thrown into a small box he managed to snag from somewhere off to the side.

“His name is Seungmin or something. Met him out in the tourist hub. Dude’s super rich with tons of miles and apparently owed Chan for a drunken night where he needed to be escorted to his hotel. So thanks to him, you’re leaving.” he explains as he grabs the box with both hands and starts walking towards the door.

“Wait.” you stop him, watching as he turns to regard you with a look that says his patience is running thin. 

“I told you I can’t leave, Hyunjin. This place is where I need to be.”

He huffs, places the box on the ground in front of him. His hair falls in waves around his face, a shimmery dark brown beneath the rays of the sun poking into the room. 

“Can you be honest with me?” he asks. 

You nod, slowly. 

“Do you love him?”

Hyunjin watches you with careful eyes. Reads you like a book, something he’s always been good at. You don’t doubt that it’s written on your face. Star-kissed cheeks and eyes as bright as marigolds. 

“So much that it hurts, Hyune.”

Hyunjin smiles, eyes watery. “Then you deserve to go. You deserve your chance to be free. Don’t worry about this place, I’ll take care of it.”

The familiar sting of tears sits behind your eyes. Your heart swells full of love for this friend, this light, this beacon of unconditional love in the shape of your best friend.

“I don’t have clothes.” you manage to say around the lump in your throat.

Hyunjin shakes his head, tears spilling down the bridge of his nose. 

“I’ll send them to you.”

“There’s a lot to do around here for just one person. What if you need me?”

“I’ll manage.” 

You round the corner quickly, throwing yourself into his chest. He catches you with ease, wraps his arms around your body as the both of you cry into each other.

“I’ll miss you.” you say weakly.

Hyunjin’s throat bobs against the top of your head. “I’ll always be here in our little corner of the world.”

The two of you stay like that for a while. Hyunjin’s warmth seeps into your skin, lights you ablaze. By the time he pulls away, his hands on your shoulders, you feel like you’re floating. Unreal.

“I don’t have a way to get there.” you say quickly, glancing at the clock. 

Jisung’s plane leaves soon. The airport, the only one on the island, is a thirty minute drive. You’re at a disadvantage the more time you spend not moving. 

“Don’t worry,” Hyunjin chuckles. “I’ve got that taken care of.”

You open your mouth to ask him what he means when you’re cut off by the sound of honking from outside. Confused, you run to the door, your jaw dropping as soon as you realize who’s waiting for you.

“Hurry up people we don’t have all day!” Jeongin calls, his upper body hanging out of the window. He’s parked outside in a beat-up truck, arms waving wildly when he spots you.

“Innie!” you scream, pushing through the door to run at him. He jumps out of the truck just in time for you to barrel into his chest, laughter loud in your ears as he spins you around. 

“You’re here! Oh my god I thought you weren’t coming for another two weeks.” you say in disbelief once he puts you down.

He looks older, more sophisticated. His hair is rusted and falls past his ears, the ends just barely touching his shoulders. 

“Yeah, well,” he shrugs. “I figured I’d show up earlier. You know, see you before you leave, catch up with my parents, help Hyunjin break into your house. The usual.”

“Help Hyunjin break into my what–” you say, but you stop when your eyes fall on the small suitcase in the backseat. Your own bag, the one that’s been sitting in your closet untouched for years now.

“For the last time,” Hyunjin says from behind you, carrying the box in his arms. “It’s not breaking and entering if I have a key. Which, by the way, I told you would come in handy one day.”

He sets the box down next to the luggage and dusts his hands on his pants. When he turns to face you, he’s smiling, eyes disappearing into crescent moons.

With tears threatening to spill once again, you stare at the both of them, your heart bursting at the seams. “I love you guys.”

Jeongin grimaces, opts for getting back in the driver’s seat as you laugh. Hyunjin rolls his eyes and ushers you inside of the truck.

“Yeah, yeah. Save it.” he says. “Right now, you have a plane to catch.”

The airport is crowded. 

There are tons of people everywhere, some saying hello and some saying goodbye. Hyunjin explained the gate system to you before you left him and Jeongin on the curb, and you keep glancing down at your ticket to make sure none of the information has changed in the past thirty seconds since you last looked. 

Thankfully, your gate isn’t far. With twenty minutes to go until boarding, you can feel the sweat building up beneath the hand that’s curled around your suitcase handle. 

It’s scary thinking about the fact that this is it. That you’re finally leaving. 

It’s bittersweet, too. There’s an excitement in the pit of your stomach as well as a feeling of dread in your chest, both of them meeting in the middle somewhere. 

You let your eyes scan the crowd, searching for wavy hair and thick-rimmed glasses. However, the first thing you see is the familiar neck of a guitar, strapped right on to a back that you would know and recognize anywhere without warning.

Jisung is seated near the gate, his eyebrows furrowed and lips set in a pout as he glares down at his phone. You realize that he’s probably wondering why you won’t answer, why all of his emoticons are going ignored. 

Quietly, you come up behind him, reach into your pocket, and say, “Excuse me? I think you dropped this.”

Jisung startles, his eyes falling on to the guitar pick being held out in your hand. Slowly, he lets his gaze follow upwards, wide-eyed and shocked.

“What– what are you doing here?” he asks. 

You place the pick in his hand. “I'm on my way to Seoul. There’s a guy there that I’ve been trying to find for a while.” you say. 

Jisung catches on quickly. “Oh, really?” he asks, moving over so you can sit beside him. “This guy must be pretty great if you’re leaving for the mainland.”

The rain starts hitting the tarmac outside right as you sit down. “Hm, yeah. He is. He really likes the stars. He says that he found a way for me to live in them, too.” 

He laughs, the sound making your stomach flip. “Sounds like you’re excited.”

You nod. “I am. He promised me that we’d do a lot together, experience new things. Apparently he’s gonna write songs and I’m gonna be a nerd.”

Jisung snorts and reaches across to link his hand with yours.

“He’s really lucky.” he says, leaning over to plant a kiss on your lips.

You smile into it. “So am I.” you whisper into his mouth, your heart stuffed to the brim with flower petals. 

And when Jisung smiles back, his other hand coming up to cup your cheek and give you another kiss with the force of a thousand suns, you feel the key you’d been searching for finally click into place. 

Salt of the earth. Soil and stardust. A boy who glows so bright that his girl sprouts blossoms from her fingertips. 

Forever isn’t promised. But then again, with Jisung by your side, there are things you know for certain:

It’s February. The tulips are in bloom. In Jeju– it rains.

And no matter what, despite all odds, you and Jisung will always find your way back to each other in the place where marigolds grow.

[tags: @skzstarnet @snowyquokka @palindrome969 @summergirlsmj @n1staytiny @drhsthl @strwbrrychannie @shays-library @giuliadesu @iknowyouknowminho @linocz @pynchkilledme @jisunglyricist @itsgghowitsgg @alician87 @skzms @meloncremesoda @ilychee08 @allaboutsan @legally-lixs @stayceebs97 @candyquokka @chans1aptop @liknws @realrintaro @beeracha @vxllxnsworld @feelikecinderella @caitxx1 @lilac13 @sebastianswhore13 @classiclitandmemes @hyunverse @linosazuna @lastgreatamericandynasty1 @bubbly-moon @cookiesandcreammy ]

[amphitriteswife]

Jaegyeon na dating headcanons! Sfw and Nsfw

I was too impatient to finish the other ones so yeah-

@yue-yolk

_______________

✨ Dating Jaegyeon na means you’re dating the definition of a mood swing. Sometimes he’s all flirty and confident, the other he’s childish and whiny.

✨ He likes it if you ask him to drop you off somewhere or pick you up. He shows off Initial N and calls it his ‘baby’. Don’t call it junk or he’ll lose his shit.

✨ Loves shopping. If you tell him you’re shopping he’ll either ask to go with you or invites himself. Usually ends up buying expensive clothes and necklaces. They’re not for you though. This one’s for him. He’ll buy yours next time

✨ ‘hey Y/n get me ice cream’ ‘no get it yourself.’ ‘Could’ve told me to cut off my balls as well.’ He takes little things seriously. Not always but usually. Sometimes its for comical reasons and sometimes he’s just insecure

✨ fragile masculinity. He’s the type to freak out if you call him pretty boy because ‘he’s not pretty. He’s handsome.’ He thinks of himself as very manly man.

✨ LOVES kissing. Doesn’t even have to be intimate, he just likes kisses or kissing. You did something nice for him? He gives you a kiss on the forehead. He missed you? He kisses your cheek. He just feels happy? He’s placing his lips on yours. They’re not always super long, sometimes just a peck.

✨ very active on socials. He watches your stories everyday and likes your every post. Always responds to them too, sometimes goofy and sometimes serious. Or its just an excuse to text you. ‘Babes plz buy me that too i want to be matchy.’ ‘Babee who’s that in your story?’ ‘Stop putting DG in your story his music isn’t that good. I’m better looking.’

✨ He’s a jealous boyfriend. No matter what gender or who it is he’s still jealous. He’ll also get defensive about it and start sulking if you point it out. He doesn’t want you to know that he’s sometimes feeling like that.

✨ babe. Who is that in your instagram story?’ ‘Thats my best friend. You met her.’ ‘Okay but even so why am I not your only bestie????’

✨ ‘babe why are you saying happy birthday in your story?’ ‘Because one of my friend is having their birthday.’ ‘Okay but you didn’t even congratulate me today too?’ It was in fact not his birthday he just wanted attention.

✨ Attention seeker. Man cannot stand you having eyes for someone else, well just being very close to someone that isn’t him. He wants to be your bestie and boyfriend. Just like how you are to him. He wants to be your number one. Just like how you are…together with Initial N.

✨ You can see him kissing his car sometimes. He’s not even embarrassed by it, but he does make it a point if you say that it’s disgusting. ‘You’re just jealous that i kiss my baby a lot….i love you dont leave me.’

✨ NEEDS to sleep in your bed. He hijacked it. He thinks your bed and house is more comfortable than his so he sleeps over a lot of times. He likes snuggling up to you though, especially in the winter

✨ if he’s at your house he makes himself comfortable very fast. Its yalls house now. He usually goes into your closet or looks trough most of your stuff to see what you do and don’t have

✨ He does online shopping a lot, mostly buys clothes or unnecessary and stupid things since he’s rich and has money to waste. This time he did buy you things too.

✨ Likes outgoing dates, he likes parties, clubbing and concerts but also enjoys museums, markets and cinema’s. Anything you like too. He’ll probably make your hobby his own so that he can see you get happy about it.

✨ He probably does car racing in his free time and usually takes you with him. Most of the time he only watched and just stays by your side. If he’s out racing and sees you with another guy, he’ll get jealous and give you the silent treatment

🔞 Man’s a horny dog okay? He’e not always like that but sometimes. Sometimes it can get real intimate. He’s not ashamed by it either. And if you match his freakiness its even better

🔞 Calls you ‘princess’ or ‘queen’ depending on which one you prefer. He takes pride in it if you like the nickname too and uses it regularly. But usually his voice is soft and a little hoarse when he does.

🔞 He might moan his own name or Inital N during sex on accident. It’s an honest mistake okay? ‘Ugh King you’re doing great.’ ‘The hell????’ ‘Sorry babes I got carried away’

🔞This man is sensitive asf. Touch his body with your hands. He loves it. The way your hand glides across his skin and squeezes his muscles…the way your lips press against his neck and whispered against it…he might come only by that.

🔞 definition of a switch but is definitely leaning on a little more bratty sub side. He will not listen to you. He’ll act super childish and selfish about it too.

🔞 car sex. And no he’s not fucking initial N. It’s with you in the car. He gets off if he thinks about you and him doing it in the car, don’t ask him why he doesn’t know it either. Don’t stain his seats tho, but he’ll definitely do it in the backseat or while he’s driving.

🔞 receiver. HEAVY receiver. Make him feel good. He’ll be at your mercy if you do it. Do anything to him. Gag him while you ride him. Choke him while you kiss him. Make him cry out your name out of pleasure

🔞 praise kink. Whisper those sweet seductive words in his ear and he’ll crumble right under your nose. He’ll beg and cry if you ask him too. Make him feel as if you’re the only one who can do this to him.

🔞 suck him while he’s driving. The mix of arousal and self control with trying to keep his eyes on the road will definitely make him feel hot.

🔞 He cums a lot. And fast. You’d only have to touch him and you’d already see the wet spot in his pants along with a tent. Make him stroke himself trough his pants because you refuse to touch him anymore and you’ll see him absolutely flabbergasted

🔞 he might have a thing for if you slap his face. He likes it if you handle him roughly because he’s been a brat. Put a gag in his mouth and you’ll get extra points. Man handle him please

🔞 loves Handjobs, he thinks it’s super hot or he’s lowkey embarrassed. Don’t ask him why he’ll get defensive, but he 100% likes the feeling of your hands stroking his sensitive skin

Thank yall for reading 🥶🙏

[m4nj1r0s]

Ran Haitani relationship headcannons

- Was probably only using you for entertainment, and was 100% planning on leaving you after about a month.

- Since you two weren’t serious in his mind, mf was a MENACE.

- Got you a COLD pack when you were on your period and had cramps.

- Like my Hanma post, gives bad girl advice to Rindou.

- “Girls prefer cold packs when they’re on their period, it helps the cramps.”

- Like a week before he was going to break up with you, he noticed a rival of his making lovey-dovey eyes at you. He postponed breaking up with you just to spite his rival.

- Was extra affectionate with you if he ever saw the guy JUST to be petty to the max but he found himself doing it privately too. And.. he liked it. Rindou helped him come to the conclusion he genuinely liked you!!

- But now you can’t leave him, ever :(

- You guys have dates where you just nap together. I’m not talking like you just came over and you two were bored so you took a nap. No, no, no like this is an actual PLANNED date. It’s marked on his calendar and everything as ‘date night’ with a bunch of hearts made with red sharpie. Ran probably gets Rindou to go out so you guys can have some peace and quiet.

- “Isn’t this nice, baby?”

- “I can feel you trying to interlock our toes.”

- Probably took Rindou a while to warm up to you, but the real ice breaker is when Rindou came home drunk whilst Ran was asleep so you guys played video games and did karaoke.

- Ran wanted to tear his hair out at Rindou’s singing but he said yours was like a lullaby. 🤗

- Probably has a picture of Nahoya and Souya that he throws darts at in his room. 😭😭

- If you’re shorter than him, he loves putting things you need on a high shelf so you have to ask him to get it.

- And he does this whilst you’re using it. ☹️

- Backfires when you just ask Rindou..

- Expects you to have his picture as your lock screen and refuses to put yours as his. His lock screen is a picture of his bed.

- When you got upset he refused to have your picture as his lock screen, he tried to make it up to you by taping a picture of you to his fighting baton.

- “This is practically the same thing, actually, it’s better! Would you rather I tape it to my uniform instead??”

- He’s genuinely asking.

- You’re saved in his phone as smth like “Honeycomb suckle sugar plum pumpkin pie ❤️💜🤍🤎💚🧡💝😫”

- Wants to learn a new language with you just so you guys can talk about stuff without Rindou eavesdropping (I hc Rindou has a bad habit of this).

- He is IMPOSSIBLE to wake up, like you could try everything and he would still be fast asleep.

- Literally the only thing that makes him wake up is the smell of breakfast or any food in general

- Has a black hole as a stomach (metaphorically)

- It’s cute since you guys can have that thing together where if you can’t finish your food he will just finish it for you :)

- Type of guy to lay on his side with a rose in his mouth and his head propped up with his hand when you come home from work or whatever with careless whisper playing on in the background

- Backfires when he cuts his lip with a thorn 😭

- “I’m never doing this romantic shit again.”

————————————————————————————

I was debating making this a yandere hc post but it feels more of a normal one

It’s a pretty short hc post but I’m back now 🤭

And I will get to requests that are already in my ask box in the next few weeks, since it’s close to exam season for me 😓

[littledovesnow]

a growing family | part 4

a/n: the finale!!!! i had so much fun with this mini series, i hope you love it!

warnings: childbirth (but traumatic), idk... hospitals? inaccurate medical stuff (i worked in a hospital but i don't know shit about medicine!!!!)

part 1 | part 2 | part 3

-----

Following a few Peacekeepers back to the train, you and Coriolanus talked softly about the conclusion of the tour.

“How did you like to see my old stomping grounds?” He asked, referring to the quick stop you two had made in the Hob so you could use the restroom.

“It certainly looks like the place that could draw a crowd.” You smiled, thanking the Peacekeeper as he helped you into the train.

Coriolanus walked dutifully as you more-so waddled down the aisle to the private car. “Are you feeling okay?”

He had noticed you taking more breaks while walking, discomfort on your face.

Nodding, you toed off your shoes and lounged with your feet on the opposite bench, letting your husband rub them once more. “Just ready to get these babies out of me. I feel like a beached whale.”

Coriolanus laughed, looking out the window as the train began the two-day journey back to the Capitol. “I’m sure they’re excited to be out in the world, have more space to move.”

You snorted, letting your head roll back and lean against the plush booth. “How long do you think we have until they come?”

“A couple more weeks, I hope. It’s still a little early.” Coriolanus chuckled as you let out a moan when he got a particularly rough knot out of your foot. “What are you thinking for dinner tonight, my love?”

You two continued the conversation while you both watched the trees go by, content in your last days alone.

-----

The following morning, you woke before your husband, smile coming to your face when you saw the Capitol’s skyline in the distance.

Slowly rising from the bed, you paused for a moment when the world went off-kilter.

You stood and walked over to the exit of the private car, moving into the dining one for something to drink, never understanding why your mouth was so dry when traveling on the train.

 “Goodmorning, ma’am. How are you feeling?” A Peacekeeper asked, soft smile on his face as he poured himself a cup of coffee.

“Tired. How about yourself?” You replied, eying the mug of coffee with envy.

You two kept a quiet conversation until the door opened once more, Coriolanus entering the car.

“You could’ve woken me; I would’ve gotten you something to drink.” He chastised, pressing a soft kiss to your head.

Rolling your eyes, you smiled as the Peacekeeper left to give you and Coriolanus some privacy. “Coryo, I’m going to be holed up in a bed for weeks in a few days, let me get movement while I still can.”

Coriolanus tsked as he looked over what would be served for breakfast shortly, smile coming to his face when you pulled his free hand into your own, fiddling with his wedding band. “How are the babies doing?”

Shrugging, you looked out the window as the snow-capped mountains drew nearer. “They’re getting anxious, certainly hope they’re both in the correct position now.”

Coriolanus chewed on his lip as he hummed in agreement, not wanting you to experience surgery if it could be avoided. “We shall see, you’re meeting with the doctor the day after tomorrow, correct?”

Nodding, you sipped the tea that was placed in front of you. “Unless I go into labor beforehand.”

The elephant in the room was finally mentioned, and Coriolanus’ frown returned.

“Coryo, you know as well as I do that there’s a high possibility we’ll become parents before the end of the week. I want as much as you do to wait until it’s safer, closer to the due date, but twins come early a lot.”

Nodding, the blonde took a long sip of his coffee. “As long as you’re all okay, that’s all that matters.”

-----

You woke to a loud screech, groaning into Coriolanus’ chest as the train stopped moving, stationed back at the Capitol.

“Good morning, welcome home.” Coriolanus whispered, voice hoarse with sleep.

“Good morning, Coryo.”

Both of you getting up, albeit you at a slower pace than Coriolanus, there was a small crowd cheering when you two disembarked the train, publicity-trained smiles on both of your faces.

Several reporters for the Capitol News had come to the station, vying for questions about the tour and wondering it’s success.

You sucked in a breath while Coriolanus spoke with Lucky Flickerman, keeping your face neutral as you interrupted the conversation. “Excuse me, Lucky, but Coriolanus and I have prior engagements we need to get to.”

Coriolanus sent you a look as you dragged him away from the cameras. He leaned down to ask you a question, voice soft to keep it off of the microphones. “What are you talking about?”

Looking up at him, you sent him a tight-lipped smile. “I’ve been in labor since four this morning. We’re going to the hospital.”

-----

You groaned in pain as your OB/GYN walked into the room, smile on her face. “Didn’t think we’d be seeing each other so soon, my dear.”

“Well, we like to keep you on your toes.” You grumbled, letting out a sigh as the pain dissipated.

“Where’s Coriolanus? I expected him to be stationed next to you the entire time.”

Laughing, you watched as the doctor put some bands over the bump to monitor the twins. “He stepped out to call Tigris and my mother. He should be back shortly.”

Moving to examine you, you looked on the monitor to watch the babies’ heartbeats.

Coriolanus re-entered the room soon after the examination ended, smiling at the doctor when he noticed her, though when he saw the tears brimming on your lash line his smile dropped. “What happened?”

“Baby B is still in a breech position, we’re going to have to do a C-section.”

At the doctor’s repeated explanation, Coriolanus was next to you in an instant, clasping your hand in his own. “It’s going to be okay, dove. You’ve got wonderfully trained doctors, the best in all of Panem, you’ll be fine.”

It felt like a whirlwind while you were being prepped for surgery, contractions getting worse as time went on.

Coriolanus stood next to you, wanting nothing more than to help take the pain away, willing the pain away.

“Mr. Snow, we’ll be going to operating room shortly. We don’t normally allow this, but you are able to sit in the surgery with us. Meet your children.”

You frantically looked up at Coriolanus, nodding rapidly. “Please, please Coryo. I need you, I can’t- I don’t want to do this alone.”

Coriolanus nodded, allowing himself to be layered in the sterile gown and booties, nerves skyrocketing as if he was the one on the table. “You’ll be okay, my love. It’s going to be okay.”

There was an oxygen cannula pressed against your face, IV into your arm, short curtain set up on top of you, inhibiting your view of the doctors at your other end.

Coriolanus pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, salty with the sweat still beading along your skin.

You felt the pinprick of a local anesthetic, the sounds of medical instruments being picked up and jostled, and the low voices of the surgeons and doctors birthing your children.

“You doing good up there, Mrs. Snow?” One of the surgeons asked, glancing up at your stats.

You nodded, too afraid to speak.

“Alright, let’s meet Baby Number One.” Your OB/GYN smiled, and a piercing cry erupted into the room. “Welcome to the world, Little Girl Snow.”

“A girl, we have a girl, Coryo.” You looked over at Coriolanus, ignoring the pressure in your head.

“We have a girl, love.” Coriolanus smiled, tears threatening to spill over.

You heard one of the machines behind you beeping more incessantly, the voices of the doctors growing muffled and distant.

“Coryo, some-something’s wrong. I feel- something is wrong.” You mumbled, words slurring.

Coriolanus felt his heart drop onto the floor at your admission, head snapping to the doctors who had started to rapidly soaking blood up, and he could pick out a few phrases from their rapid chatter, the words “obstetric hemorrhage” sending chills down his body.

“What’s wrong, what’s going on with my wife?” Coriolanus yelled, terror on his face.

“Mr. Snow, you’re going to have to head to the waiting room.” A nurse spoke, ushering him out of the operating room.

He saw one of the doctors pressing his fingers onto the second baby’s chest, while a handful of other surgeons and doctors focused on you, and Coriolanus had never felt fear quite like this.

-----

Four hours had passed since you were ripped from Coriolanus’ sight, four hours since he last saw his children. “A boy and a girl, Mr. Snow. Congratulations.” The nurse had said, smile on her face.

How she could smile in the face of a man whose wife could be dead, he’ll never know.

Coriolanus’ knee was bouncing a mile a minute as he awaited any news on your state, on the babies, on anything.

“Mr. Snow?”

His head shot up when he heard a soft voice call his name, and he saw a nurse approaching, hesitant smile on his face.

“Is my wife okay?” He asked, eyes frantic.

Nodding, the nurse lead him to a private room, away from any prying eyes. “Mrs. Snow is stable. She experienced a large quantity of blood loss during the birth, but with some transfusions, she is stable and should wake up shortly.”

Nodding, Coriolanus let out a sigh. “The babies? Are they- can I see them?”

The nurse paused, and Coriolanus saw a tick in her jaw.

“What’s wrong with my children?”

“The boy, I’m not sure if you’ve decided on names yet, but the boy will need to be monitored for a few weeks here. His lungs weren’t as developed as his sister’s, but with some supplemental oxygen and time, he should be a fighter.”

“My daughter, is she okay?”

“Would you like to meet your daughter, Mr. Snow?”

The nurse lead him to the nursery, motioning for him to sit in one of the rocking chairs. “Newborns do best with skin-to-skin, if you unbutton your shirt, I can place her on your chest.”

Coriolanus quickly undid the buttons, ignoring the nurse’s gasp at the few bruises on his chest from back on the train, and gently placed the newborn in his arms.

The baby was smaller than he expected, having never held a newborn before, but he felt enamored by her, by his daughter. Already, he was wrapped around her little finger, wanting nothing more than to give her the world.

“She has her mother’s eyes.” Coriolanus whispered, soft smile on his face as he rocked slowly in the chair.

Looking up at the nurse, Coriolanus asked about you, when you would be awake and ready to meet the twins.

“It’s hard to say, some mothers wake up shortly after birthing. Others, ones who had complications not unlike your wife, it can be a few hours to days before they wake. Rest assured, your wife is being monitored closely, and you will be able to bring your daughter to meet her mother.”

Coriolanus nodded, blinking back the few tears that threatened to leak.

He was thankful you two had decided to have the hospital facility to sign NDA contracts, not wanting his soft side to be released to the public.

“I’ll let you two bond, just press that green button when you need anything.”

Coriolanus thanked her, looking down at the small baby in arms.

“Welcome to the world, little one. You and your brother aren’t going to have to worry about a thing, I’ll make sure of it.”

-----

Coriolanus looked at himself in the mirror of your hospital room’s bathroom. The man staring back at him did not look like the Coriolanus Snow who was on the presidential election posters that were recently debuted to the public.

No, the man staring back at Coriolanus had greasy, unkempt hair, stubble popping up along his face, and bags under his eyes. Tigris had stopped in with a change of clothing and something to eat, knowing her cousin wouldn’t eat if it meant leaving your side.

The twins were recovering well, the boy’s lungs growing stronger with each passing day.

You were now Coriolanus’ top priority, you still haven’t woken from the emergency surgery and complications from days prior.

The doctors were unsure of why you hadn’t woken yet, speculating your body needed more rest than you let on, the tour taking a toll on your body.

Coriolanus walked back to the chair on the side of your bed, cracking his neck as he sat down and took your hand in his.

“The babies are doing well, doctor’s speculate we’ll be able to take them home in a few days. We have to name them first, and I know we decided on what to call them, but it feels wrong to sign the certificates without you there.”

The blonde man had taken to talking about his day, explaining things the twins were doing, hoping you would wake up and respond to his ramblings.

The only response he got was the rhythmic beeping of the heart monitor, the only thing keeping Coriolanus sane.

A knock on the door drew Coriolanus out of his stupor, tight smile coming to his lips when he saw Tigris.

“How is she?” The older Snow asked, dropping a small box of baked goods on the table next to your bed.

“The same.” Coriolanus croaked, voice raw from the nights he spent crying, hoping you didn’t suffer the same end that his mother did.

It was as if Tigris could hear his inner monologue, as she hugged her cousin tightly. “She won’t be like your mom, she’s going to wake up, and she’s going to raise those babies down the hall, and she’s going to be your First Lady.”

Coriolanus nodded, dam breaking as tears escaped his eyes, racing down his chin to meet each other.

-----

Two weeks after you had become parents, Coriolanus had to make an appearance in public to show the Capitol he was still strong, and he would be Panem’s next president.

He was sitting next to Lucky Flickerman, answering lukewarm questions and entertaining the premise that he was running on a full night’s sleep, not the coffees he had been all-but bathing in.

While the show was at a break, one of the Capitol News associates came over to the two men, serious look on his face. “Excuse me, Mr. Snow.”

Coriolanus looked over to him, Lucky frowning that his story had been interrupted.

“Mr. Snow, I’ve just gotten a call from a Tigris Snow? She said that you’re needed at the Capitol Medical Center urgently.”

Coriolanus felt the blood rush to his ears as he left the station without a single look back, commanding his driver to what had become his second home at this point.

-----

Footfalls echoing off the walls, Coriolanus’ eyes were wide as he turned the corner and entered the room that had become familiar over the last weeks, the room seemingly brighter when he saw your smiling face back at him.

“Love.” Coriolanus sighed, rushing to your side, kissing you as if he was starved.

You kissed back just as eagerly, only breaking the kiss when you felt your stitches pull. “Hi, Coryo.”

“Hi, dove.”  

-----

a/n: the end <3 maybe you'll see this beautiful family in some future fics!

[lulunothulu]

“Uninspired”

Glen Powell x Reader

Summary: You’re a writer who’s feeling uninspired, and when Glen notices your frustration, he tries to help. 

“What’s bothering you?”

You blink shaking your head to try and make the blank thoughts go away. “What?”

Your boyfriend smiles, caressing your cheek with his thumb. “What bothering you? And before you say nothing, I saw the thinking face you were making.”

You’ve been staring at your laptop screen and frowning because you just couldn’t think. Every time you type something, you delete everything and then stare blankly at your laptop screen.

“Nothing,” You sigh, closing your laptop.

“Come here.”

You stand from the kitchen table, walking to where Glen stands by the kitchen island before being pulled into his strong arms.

His scent plus the warmth coming from his chest makes you sink deeper into him, allowing yourself to lean into his body. You feel one hand slip into your hair, softly rubbing your scalp; the other rubbing small circles on your back.

When you sigh in content, he asks, “So what was bothering you?”

“I can’t think,” you tell him. “Every time I try to write something, I feel like it’s terrible or it’s complete shit and I end up deleting it. It’s starting to piss me off because every time I want to write what I feel is a good line, I reread it and it’s terrible.”

“Would you like me to look at it?”

“No,” you sigh. “I think I just need a break. I’ve been there for a good half of my day.”

“Have you eaten?” He asks, pulling you back a bit.

“No.” As if on cue, your stomach grumbles loudly making him chuckle.

“Let’s get some food in your stomach and talk about it.”

~*~*~*~

After eating, Glen sits you down at the island and opens your laptop again.

“So let’s talk about where you’re stuck at. What’s going on in the story?”

“The two main characters just got back together after she thought that he was cheating on her even though they’re not actually dating.” When he gives you a look of confusion you add, “They’re fake dating to keep their exes away.”

“Okay gotcha,” he nods. “So what do you want to happen right about now?”

“I want to write some cute romantic stuff that they’ll go through since they’re newly together for real,” You start. “What I’m getting stuck on is how they should be acting. Because they’re supposed to be going to some party together, but I just keep blanking every time I try to add any sort of fluff.”

“Think of how we are, or should I say how we were, when we started dating.” And he sees that you’re starting to think he adds, “Now think of how handy we were. Think of how much I did not want to let you go anywhere alone.”

You smile, remembering how clingy and loving he was, and still is.

“You got it?” He asks, a smile forming on his lips.

“I do actually. Thank you, baby.” You kiss his cheek before turning to your laptop and beginning to type out the next scene for your book. When you feel his lips on your temple, you smile before facing him and puckering your lips.

“Thank you.”

“I’ll always be here to help.”

You smile sweetly before waving him off. “Now, shoo so I can continue writing. I’ll come get you in a little bit.”

He only chuckles before raising his hands in surrender. “Yes ma’am.”

Something sweet and simple because I’ve been uninspired and I needed to have a peptalk from Glen( aka myself 😂)

[littlemisssquiggles]

Why did no one tell me about the little “omake” chapters of DandaDan?

I was today years old when I learned the existence of these little extra omake or bonus chapters of Dandadan that expand on what’s going on with some of the other DanDandan characters like the Aira and Evil Eye Jiji one for example.

I thought it quite cute that Evil Eye cared enough about Aira to help her with getting her old friends to start talking to her again. That was actually oddly sweet of him.

If I didn’t know any better, I’d say the Evil Eye might secretly have a widdle crush on Aira. Doesn’t have to be true. I mean it’s just me spitting here.

But I’d be lying if Evil Eye crushing on Aira is definitely feeding into my thoughts on Aira and Jiji eventually being a couple.

I DO LIKE the Jijira ship. I mean Dandadan got me wracking up new ships to love like Uno cards with each new arc.

Already I’m Team Momokarun - obviously. Otherwise why am I even here if not to suffer at the hands of Yukinobu Tatsu as he proceeds to write the most beautiful shoujo romance love story disguised as a shonen battle anime that the world has ever seen and taking his sweet ass time doing it too. That magnificent romantic bastard.

---

I’m Team Jijira - I just think they’re NEAT okay? Our secondary BAKAS IN LOVE potential couple next to Momokarun.

No seriously, I think these two can actually work really, REALLY well together if Aira would just come to her senses of seeing that Okarun is OBVIOUSLY in love with Momo and NOT her, get over him and redirect her interest to the guy who is actually always by her side more than Okarun. Meaning Jiji.

As for Jiji and where he stands on love and romance. To all the people who keep saying that Jiji is in LOVE with Momo, I raise you one important question? Where? Where is this love you keep insinuating that Jiji has for Momo?

Believe me, I have watched the anime. I have read the manga up to date and all I’ve seen so far is a good boy who just simply cares very deeply for his childhood friend and is very protective of her. Nothing more.

I mean Aira is more obvious with her feelings for Okarun than Jiji is for Momo.

I dunno man. The Momiji ship and its shippers is giving me Zutara from Avatar vibes. Ya’ll up in here painting this magnificent love story between these two characters and telling everybody who would listen about it but when you actually read the ACTUAL canon content, there is nothing to insinuate anything like that at all.

Then again, I might just be biased because even IF Jiji DID in fact have a crush on Momo … that means shit because WE KNOW Jiji will NEVER end up with Momo BECAUSE SHE IS IN LOVE WITH OKARUN AND HE LOVES HER TOO!

Not unless Tat-Tat writes an arc where there’s an alternative universe/ reverse time line type shit where Momo ended up with Jiji instead of Okarun due to weebly wobbly, timey wimey stuff.

And now thanks to Aira omake chapter with the Evil Eye, I have more reasons to believe that Jijira could be a possibility. Either way, my Jijira shipping heart has been fed.

---

I’m Team Vaminta: or Kintola? Whatever the official Vamola x Kinta ship is called. Doesn’t matter. Vamola is (literally) a queen and Kinta is her king. Nuff said!

My goat and baby girl deserve each other!

---

And finally; I’m Team Rinuma - yes, yes, I KNOW Rin and Zuma have yet to actually officially interact in the story but how can I NOT ship them prematurely. The girl with gravity powers making people float and the boy with the umbrella? C’mon it’s like poetry. The ship practically writes itself even if Tat-Tat hasn’t gotten there yet. I see the vision and I’m embracing it while I can; dagnabbit!

---

So yeah, those are my current favourite Dandadan ships. Returning to the omakes, I also enjoyed the Chiquitta one.

Did not know Chiquitta was attending school on Earth. I mean it would make sense since his father is currently working on Earth so that Chiquitta can get all the milk he can get to keep himself healthy and strong. Yeah makes perfect sense actually.

Loved the chapter showing Chiquitta protecting his classmates from older bullies. Like father, like son. Chiquitta got hands man! That’s our favourite kappa son!

Also Chiquitta imitating Jiji of all people when interacting with a girl is insanely cute. Of all the people for Lil Chiqui to copy, why Jiji of all people? Then again, better him that Kenta, am I right?

There’s also speculation now that the little girl that suspects Chiquitta to be an alien is actually related to Okarun.

Like she’s his little sister and that Okarun comes from a large family where possibly some of the background characters we’ve probably overlooked throughout the story may allegedly be related to our favourite Yokai speedster.

Personally I’m down for this theory since it’ll actually confirm Okarun as being from Earth instead of my crazy theory of him secretly being a member of a humanoid alien race who was abandoned on Earth at birth and raised by a human family or someting like that. .

Because we have yet to glimpse into what Okarun’s home life is as yet, it’s got me wondering if Okarun even has a family. I mean surely he has to have a home because in spite being a loner/outcast for most of his school life, Okarun is always well-clothed, well fed and stocked up on occult-related magazines.

So outside of the alien heritage theory, it wouldn’t surprise me if Okarun actually comes from a pretty wealthy family and the reason why he’s always seen ready and flexible to go off on his own without his parents wondering about his whereabouts is probably because Okarun’s parents/caretakers are probably living a life where they’re never home with him.

Perhaps Okarun’s parents work overseas and the reason for Okarun’s deep fascination with the occult is cause its related to his parents’ occupation.

Maybe his parents are archaeologists or astrologists or a pair of people who study these kind of things and often have to travel abroad for long periods of time while Okarun is left alone; unable to accompany them due to him attending school in Japan.

I mean, it would make sense why we haven’t seen them as yet in the story. To me, Okarun living alone because his parents work overseas sounds more plausible than them secretly being alien.

Perhaps the little girl who suspects Chiquitta of being an alien doesn’t necessarily have to be someone related to Okarun. Perhaps she’s his neighbour or something. Or maybe she doesn’t even know Okarun and is just someone related to Chiquitta’s side of the story.

On the subject of aliens, it would actually be pretty funny if Okarun’s parents were another pair of refugee aliens who have been living on Earth for years and thus Okarun is secretly an alien who was born and raised on Earth.

Like his parents brought him up on the occult to desensitize him to the existence of the alien race. Their race; although they never revealed the truth of their alien lineage to Okarun, wanting him to grow up believing himself to be just a “normal human boy on Earth” when he actually isn't.

I mean that’s another theory for the pool of possibilities.

If Okarun parents are indeed secretly aliens then imagine them being Ken Takakura fans as much as Momo is because his movies were the first thing they were exposed to once they came to Earth and thus they decided to take the surname of Takakura and named their Earth-born “alien” son, Okarun after him.

It would honestly be insane if there comes a time when Momo gets to meet Okarun’s parents and the first thing they bond over is their shared love for Ken Takakura.

That would actually be insanely cute.

Overall, these are just little headcanons. For all I know, there’s probably no twist to Okarun at all.

He could really just be a regular guy who, despite everything that life had thrown at him, lucked out and found the love of his life and the literal girl of his dreams when she just happened to be passing by on a bad day and noticed him for the first time.

That really could be just it.

Then again; who really knows.

We really have to see what Tat-Tat has cooking up in that noggin of his for this ongoing love story he's made.

The most I will say is that the longer the story drags on with us readers never seeing or knowing anything about Okarun’s homelife, the more this squiggle meister will start to believe that he’s secretly an alien until it’s debunked by the actual story.

~LMS (2025)

[espinosaurusrexex]

!this is a repost because something was wrong with the original!

Thank you so much! I had a lot of fun with this. Already looking forward to all the other imagines lined up 🥰

Secret Relationship (Bingo Game)

!BINGO ASKS CLOSED!

BuckyBarnes x Female!Avenger!Reader

word count: 1.4k

warnings: fluffy af, little angst

Your eyes stared over the coffee mug at him from across the room. He was stealing glances over to the kitchen in which you sat as Sam and Tony tried to convince him to meet the smoking hot yoga teacher bachelorette the two of them had found for him this week. 

You felt a little bad for him, to be honest. Bucky seemed exhausted from their constant nagging. It was weird to see the two men together like this. Normally, Tony and Sam would just pass in the hallway with subtle nods. But when it came to finding a woman for Bucky, the two could be mistaken for best friends. 

“Her name is Ronda and she is hot.”

“Mhm. Gives hot yoga a whole new meaning.”

“That’s right. And she’s willing to meet you!”

“Well, I’m not willing.”

“Why are you always like this, Bucky? We go out and we find you a nice girl and you decline every time.”

“Maybe he’s like this because Dr. No over here isn’t getting laid. Which is why you should go on this date.”

“I don’t need to get laid to be in a good mood, Tony.”

“We don’t know that. You’re always grumpy and you’re most certainly not getting laid. Doesn’t sound like a coincidence to me.”

“Oh, that definitely isn’t a coincidence.”

“I’m a scientist I know that stuff.”

“Yeah, he’s a scientist. Listen to him.”

“Shut up, Sam.”

But Bucky was panicking, you could see it in his eyes. He wanted to say it, that he didn’t want to go on dates because was already dating you. But you had forbidden him from doing so. It was better this way, and he had not spoken up when you suggested keeping your relationship a secret for now. 

With a small smirk, you got off your chair.

“Have you two geniuses ever thought about your annoying banter being the reason for his bad mood?” You sauntered past the men with your mug still in hand, the other slightly grazing Bucky’s back on your way to the door. You could feel his muscles relax just from the small touch. 

“How are we being annoying? We are literally helping him get some.”

“I don’t need to get any!” 

That was the last thing you heard Bucky shout frustratedly when you entered the hallway, a small chuckle leaving your lips before you went to your room to finish the report you had yet to hand in. 

-❁-

It wasn’t long before Bucky entered your room with an exhausted sigh. He leaned against the closed door when you looked up and then proceeded to approach you at your desk, where he leaned over your shoulder, arms caging you to his chest and chin nuzzling in your neck. 

“They’re the worst,” he mumbled into your sweater before placing small kisses along your neck. 

“I know, baby.” You stroked his arms. “For the geniuses, they claim to be, they’re really hardheaded.”

“I feel like it’s just me they’re bothering with this. For all they know, you are single too.”

Another pang went through your chest. Bucky had not been part of the team for long. And you had spared him all of the details about most members that Steve hadn’t already told him about. 

There was a reason why Tony and Sam didn’t suggest eligible partners to you, and that was because you had multiple suitors amongst the team and beyond already. If you wanted to have someone, they just assumed you would get them. Not to mention the total embarrassment they had witnessed when you had rejected Pietro in front of the team during movie night. You hadn’t meant to, but he had sprung it upon you without warning, and you hadn’t wanted to lead him on. 

Then there was Peter, the intern, that harbored a silly schoolboy crush on you since he had gotten his first action figure of you, and letting him down gently was harder than you had thought. Tony and Sam, especially, had gotten amusement from the frequent serenades and suggestive fan mail you received. They even suggested an “open mail + wine night” for their personal entertainment one time. And, well, you didn’t say no to wine and gossip. 

But despite all this, it wasn’t the reason why you wanted to keep your relationship a secret. Bucky had been closed up from the very first time Steve introduced him to the team. It had taken two months for him to reply to simple questions such as if he wanted coffee, too. But somehow, you had the honor of being the first person he trusted after Steve. And once you had gotten to know him better, he was the sweetest person ever. Caring, funny, charming - very touchy. But you were scared this would go away once everyone started teasing him about it. So yes, it might have been to protect Bucky, but it felt more and more like personal gain to you. 

“I want you to know that I don’t need Yoga Brenda, or Coffeeshop Mandy, or anyone else. I just wanna tell them that I’m already dating the most gorgeous woman they could ever find.”

“You are wonderful, do you know that?” Your head leaned against his shoulder when you felt Bucky smile into the crook of your neck. “And I guess I could deal with a little more PDA - warm the team up to it slowly.”

“Sounds like a great plan.” And with that Bucky turned your chair and pulled you up and towards the bed. “Until then,” he patted his lap once he sat down, “I demand a kiss for every time I had to vouch for us.”

You smirked before straddling him. “Oh, I’ll gladly pay up, then.”

-❁-

You knew Bucky was touchy, but now that he had permission to do so outside your rooms, it lit a whole new fire within you. You couldn’t reach the cupboard? He would press up against you with a hand on your hip and get whatever item you needed. You walked through a door? You bet he would hold that thing open until you were all the way through. 

But those were just the, in his way, subtle approaches for when everyone was around. When the two of you happened to catch a quiet moment, he wouldn’t hesitate to hug and kiss you in every common area of the compound. 

You didn’t mind it too much - Bucky was a great lover all around. But you were still a little nervous as to what the team’s reaction would be. You had already gotten glimpses of it. A raised brow from Natasha, who really was just surprised it had gone past her for so long. A double take from Pietro when Bucky brushed an eyelash from your face. And a knowing smile from Wanda, who to be honest, had probably known all along - your thoughts weren’t exactly subtle... or PG.

Though you had yet to see Sam or Tony react to the increase in affection Bucky gave you. It wasn’t unusual that he asked you to train or make a joke - you were friends in everyone’s eyes. But it would become obvious if he kept up the thing he was doing right now. 

Bucky had just swiped some chocolate from your face in the kitchen, and when Clint had left the room, Bucky’s hand just lingered on your face. You were staring at him. And every time those eyes gazed into yours, it was hard to remember that there was a world around you. 

“I like this,” Bucky smirked when his thumb grazed over your cheek. His mouth followed shortly and soon he was stealing pecks from your soft lips.

“It is very nice,” you admitted flustered from the kisses, your hands now grabbing at his shirt. 

“See, it’s not so bad.”

You just hummed in response when Bucky patted your ass affectionately.

“Ahhh! What did I just see?” Sam’s eyes were wide, his head immediately snapping to Tony. You just sighed as you leaned against Bucky’s chest. It had to happen sooner or later...

“Holy smokes, Barnes. Had we known you got Miss Unattainable, we would have shut up a long time ago.” Tony whistled in acknowledgment before he approached the fridge and retrieved a water bottle.

Bucky just looked at you with a lazy smile, his hands rubbing up and down your back. It was nice not to hide anymore.

“What can I say?” He was looking into your eyes when he spoke. “She likes to keep me to herself.” And when you responded with a smile, he leaned in and kissed you shamelessly.

“Geez, get a room,” you heard Sam mumble gruffly. 

But all you could do was giggle as Bucky hid his smile in the crook of your neck, his scruff tickling your skin and the weight of the secret falling from your shoulders.

Wanna be added to the Taglist?

@circe143 @valkyrie418 @mirikusashes @noideawhyimdoingthislol @nikkitc0703 @lethallyprotected @erynnnn @misshale21 @almosttoopizza @sociallyimpairedme @royalwritersoftheuniverses @i-l-y-3000 @mrsgweasley @prettylittlepluviophile

[heartsforvin]

Hi! I Hope you’re well🫶

Can you write something where vinnie was rude to y/n because he’s quite irritable since he’s trying to quit vaping (proud of him btw!) and then he feels terribly sorry so he covers y/n with kisses and hugs🥹

MOOD SWINGS

i’m doing good thank you ! and thank you for the request !! so proud of vin for tryna quit cus ik that shit is not easy to do 😭

pairing; vinnie hacker x fem!reader

warnings; cussing, use of pet names (baby, princess, etc), lil bit of angst, i think that’s all but lmk if i missed somethin !!

summary; vinnie accidentally lashes out on you but quickly realizes what he did

for a few years now, vinnie has been trying to quit vaping. it’s been a rough road over the years, but you’re proud of vinnie for actually sticking to his goal.

you knew when you started dating vinnie that he vaped, but he had told you he stopped months ago.

when you saw him vape about a month ago, you were confused, questioning him on it and wondering why he was starting the habit back up again.

“baby i swear i’m quitting, i’m sorry,” he rambled to you. “i’ve been taking zyn’s to help me quit it, and i know it’s like swapping one thing out for another, but they’re really helping me.” he explained.

you smiled at him and had given him a hug, looking up at him with your pretty eyes. “don’t be sorry, my love,” you told him. “i know you’re trying to quit, you’ll get there eventually.”

vinnie gave you a quick kiss and had thanked you for being so supportive.

fast forward to a few weeks later and his habit is still here, but you know he’s trying to stop it, and you knew it took some time.

it’s been difficult on you, on your relationship, but you know the two of you will get past this.

vinnie’s become a bit more irritable since he’s been trying to quit the habit, you try not to take it personal and tell yourself it’s just a mood swing thing, but it’s hard not too when it’s the person you love so much.

“sweetheart, have you seen my zyn’s anywhere?” vinnie asks you as he walks into your guys’ shared room in his apartment.

you’re sat on his bed with hera in your lap when you saw him walk into the room. “no i haven’t, im sorry.”

muttering what sounded like a cuss word under his breath, vinnie goes into the bathroom to see if he had left them in there.

“fuck,” you hear from the bathroom. you carefully place hera on the mattress next to you and stand up to see what has vinnie so upset.

“vinnie?” you slowly walk into the bathroom to see vinnie move stuff that’s on the counter around. “baby it’s okay, calm down,” you walk up to him and rub his back. “we’ll find them.”

you’re trying so hard not to let your emotions get to you when vinnie suddenly turns to face you. the look he’s giving you is something you can’t explain.

“and what if we don’t?” he asks, the look in his eyes immediately changing and you can tell he’s getting upset.

“i need to quit this awful fucking habit,” he says, pacing around the bathroom. “you hate it, i hate it, everyone hates it, it’s no good.”

you agree with him, it is no good, but getting upset over losing something to stop that habit shouldn’t be happening.

“this whole thing just pisses me off,” he tells you as he continues to walk around the bathroom. “i should’ve never started.”

it’s silent for a moment before vinnie yells out something and that’s when you knew he was really upset.

“vin, baby, it’s okay we can—no, we can’t do anything. this is a me thing.” vinnie cuts you off, and when the words come out of his mouth tears immediately well up in your eyes.

you and vinnie are a team, always have and will always will be, it’s how you two work. so when the sentence ‘we can’t do anything’ fell from his lips, you wanted to cry.

you knew you shouldn’t have, and was probably gonna hear it from him after, but you hit his chest out of frustration and walked out of the room.

vinnie watched as you walked away with a slam to the bedroom door, muttering something to himself once the door shut.

he knew it’d end up like this at some point, and he felt like shit for raising his voice at you and making you cry.

hours went by and you were back in vinnie’s room, curled up in his bed with hera laying against your chest.

you hear the door quietly open and you know it’s vinnie, but don’t make an attempt to roll over to face him.

“sweetheart?” you hear as his voice sounds hurt, like he knows what happened hours ago, as if it finally processed in his head.

the mattress dips and that’s when you know he’s laying on the other end of you. vinnie moves some hair that’s in your face and he plants a soft kiss right below your eye.

“i’m so sorry i raised my voice at you, my love,” he starts, making you smile that he’s finally apologizing. “and for making you cry.”

“i just, it’s been tough on me, you know? all the mood swings and shit, but that can’t be an excuse, i shouldn’t have yelled at you like that.” he explains.

you carefully roll over to face your boyfriend, hera still laying beside you as you do. vinnie carefully reaches up to caress your cheek and smiles.

you lean into his touch and kiss his palm softly. “it’s okay, you just need to remember that you’re not alone in this, i’m with you.” you explain.

vinnie smiles and leans in to kiss you, smiling once the two of you pull away. hera moves out from beside you and that’s when vinnie gently pulls you closer to him.

wrapping his arms around you, you nuzzle into his chest, loving the way he alone can calm you.

“i know,” you hear vinnie speak, the vibration in his chest making you giggle. “i’m still so sorry. i know we’ll find them, i just need to quit this, it’s giving me terrible mood swings.”

it’s silent but vinnie knows you heard him, soon you’re being covered in kisses and you can’t help but laugh.

vinnie hugs you tight after, making you smile and nuzzle into him more, loving being in his embrace.

“i love you, baby, we’ll get through this.” you tell him, looking up at him as you do.

vinnie looks down at you with a smile. “i love you too, i know we will.” he replies kissing you softly once more.

the two of you lie there wrapped in each others arms for awhile, knowing the two of you will in fact get through this.

hii !!! i hope you enjoyed this !! so so proud of vin for sticking to his goal and trying to quit vaping <33

tags: @cosmicanakin , @lyndys , @forevergirlposts , @visualbutterflysworld , @slvthrs , @bernelflo , @kriissy4gov , @laylasbunbunny , @st4rswrld , @hallecarey1 , @supabhad , @lovingsturniolo , @leqonsluv3r , @violet0182

[bettystonewell]

The Mark of Cain: Chapter 2

Series Masterlist || Main Masterlist

Pairing: Dean x Aussie!Reader

Summary: Having escaped the police station with the help of Dean, you start to feel like you might have been safer where you were. Dean claims he can help you, but the guy is talking about monsters and playing with guns.

Chapter Word Count: 2.4K words

Tags/Warnings: language, she’s rather chill with the Stockholm syndrome

Aussie Stuff: a Crocodile Dundee reference and referring to Baby’s trunk as a boot

Previous Chapter || Next Chapter

December 2013

Shit, shit, shit. The words repeated over and over in your mind. A worried expression now crossed your face and Agent Smith, scrap that, Dean fucking Winchester, was darting his eyes back and forth between you and the road as he continued driving further away from the police station.

You were essentially trapped in the moving vehicle with no hope of escaping. The car was moving way too fast for you to even attempt to open the door and roll safely away. Even though you hated to admit it, you realised you had been safer with Officer Tubby at the police station all along.

“Sorry for lying to you back there,” Dean spoke with a half grin. He sure didn’t look sorry. “But it was the only way for me to get in there to talk to you.”

You stared at him, dumbfounded. Saying anything seemed way too risky given the situation. You had no idea what this guy was capable of. He’d already lied to the local law enforcement.

You looked over at the odometer on the car’s dash, but the numbers were lower than you expected. ‘Right, America uses miles,’ you thought. So you tried to calculate in your head how fast you might be going. ‘There’s about two kilometres in a mile—’

“Look. I’m not gonna hurt you. I’m the best chance you’ve got of making your way back home.” He raised his hand and pointed his thumb like he was hitching a ride. “The officers back there, they can’t do jack. Same with the other guys that were coming for you. They have no clue what they’re dealing with.”

“And you do?” you asked, the sarcasm clear in your voice.

“Yup.” His eyes moved back to the road once again.

“Okay,” you started, trying to choose your next words carefully, “Look. I really appreciate you getting me out of there and all, but I’m good now. You can just—drop me off somewhere and I’ll figure it out by myself and—”

“Yeah, I can’t do that.” The grin that had lined his face vanished and his green eyes narrowed. “Someone’s gone through a lot of trouble to bring you here, and it’s my job to find out why.”

“Your job? You’re clearly not any kind of law-officer-person, so what exactly is your job?”

A slight chuckle escaped his lips as he heard you stutter through your American legal terminology. You barely had any knowledge of the cops back home, having never done anything remotely criminal. Well, maybe a speeding ticket or two, but you’d never set foot in a police station and definitely never been contained as you had been back there.

As for things in the United States, that was a whole other ball game. You knew nothing except what you’d seen in movies and TV, but that was all fiction. This definitely wasn’t. Law and Order SVU wasn’t going to help you here.

Country hopping in your sleep. International fraud. The stint back at the police station and this ‘little joy ride’ you were now experiencing in Dean’s car (assuming it was his and not stolen), was the most adventure you’d probably had in your life to date and you weren’t even the one driving. You were wearing the handcuffs though and in that moment you were reminded of the metal rings giving you more cuts. Your attempt to readjust them up your arms and away from the raw skin didn’t go unnoticed by Dean.

“I’m a hunter,” he said while you played with the cuffs. You just needed to get out of them, then you could consider your other options. “When we’re a safe distance away, I’ll help you get them off.”

Wait. A hunter?

It took a while, but when the word finally registered in your brain, it brought on questions.

Lots of them.

“A hunter? Like ‘wascally wabbits’ and ducks? Or are you America’s answer to Dundee?” The jeer was probably a bad idea, but you couldn’t help it. Why would he bring up his hobby of all things?

“No.” Dean’s demeanour was no longer playful if you could have ever really called it that to begin with. “You know Twilight? Vampires, werewolves, it’s all real. Just—less sparkles, more blood. A lot more blood.”

Your mouth dropped open. You quickly shut it before Dean noticed.

“Me and my brother, we hunt them, all of them. Not just Dracula. Demons, ghosts, pretty much everything except Big Foot and Godzilla all exist. And angels, too. Those cuts on your skin, the Enochian, some angels and demons still speak it. I know a guy who can probably tell you what it says. Might be your ticket home,” Dean finished matter-of-factly.

“You’re serious?” was all you managed to spit out. Not only was Dean dangerous, but he also clearly needed therapy.

“It’s a lot to take in, okay? Believe me, I know. This ain’t my first monster talk.” A slight grin had returned to his face, his tone a little more relaxed. “Normally I have to give the talk to people after they’ve seen something. So I get it. You’re sceptical. But it’s the truth. Just give it time. Hanging out with me, whatever’s going on with you there, you’re bound to see it for yourself sooner or later.”

“And what makes you think I want to ‘hang out’ with you?” your sarcasm returned.

“Right now. You don’t have much of a choice.” He was quick. Witty almost, and damn irritating. “You’re technically a fugitive.” He smirked.

The sun was setting as Dean walked back to you, waiting in the car out front of the shady-looking motel. You’d been on the road for about two hours now and were relieved to know that you were finally going to be given the chance to get out and stretch your legs.

You had discovered on your journey that the black beast of a car did, in fact, belong to Dean. It had previously belonged to his father, who had started him on his path to what Dean called ‘the family business’. He’d also told you briefly about his brother, Sam, who had recently stopped talking to him over ‘something stupid’.

Man, it was odd to be making friends with a guy who was potentially your captor, but small talk was better than awkward silence.

Dean had asked you more of what you remembered during your night out in the city. Had you noticed anyone following you? Had you met or talked to anyone new? Had you felt or seen anything unusual? Cold spots? The smell of eggs? His questions were strange, but you humoured him, anyway.

The car was moved to a parking spot in front of the room the two of you were going to be staying in for the night. You walked inside ahead of him as he went to retrieve his belongings from the boot of the car.

As you didn’t feel like sitting down again but were also at a loss for what to do while you waited, you poked around the tiny room. Checking it all out, only there wasn’t much to look at. Two beds, a table and chairs, a mini fridge and ageing yellow walls that reminded you of piss...

At least there was a bed for you - with stained sheets and a scratchy blanket. A vast improvement from your cell cot back at the police station.

Dean entered the room and locked the door diligently behind him, making certain to apply the little chain that was supposed to add security. You were starting to believe him, at least in his sincerity p that he thought monsters and such existed. He was definitely putting on a show for you, but you were a firm seeing-is-believing type. If anything it humoured you to see the grown man acting so cautiously.

He placed a duffle on the bed closest to the door and a first aid kit on the small table that sat in front of the only window in the room. He then reached into the back pocket of his suit pants and pulled out a small metal cylinder, using one hand to take the lid off, revealing a lock pick.

“Let’s get those cuffs off,” Dean said as he motioned for you to come sit down at the table with him.

Your eyes followed his hands as he worked to pick the tiny lock holes and within a couple of minutes, you were released from the silver rings. It was such a relief to be free again, and you pulled back the cuff on both arms of the jacket you were wearing to inspect the injured skin they left behind.

But regret hit you as Dean grabbed your arms and he too examined the cuts and old bruises along with them. “They were really rough with you at the station.” It was a statement, not a question, and one filled with pity.

A small sound of agreement escaped your lips.

“Let me clean up these fresh cuts and then I’m sure you’d appreciate a hot shower.”

He was right.

“You hungry? I bet they didn’t feed you much in that cell either?”

You were hungry. Tired, too. And that shower, although smelling a little funky at the back of the room, sounded amazing, and you practically jumped at the chance to wash away the metaphorical filth of your ordeal.

There were no clean clothes to change into though and the thought crossed your mind to use one of the robes the motel had provided in the room. However, knowing that you were going to be sharing a room with Dean for the night made you cautious. You were warming to him, at least less on your guard than you were when you’d first met, but he was still a stranger and you felt uncomfortable wearing nothing more around him.

So you put on the same clothes you’d been wearing since you’d last left your apartment back home in Sydney, and stepped out of the bathroom, feeling somewhat refreshed.

As you entered the main part of the room once again, the smell of burgers and fries filled the air and you looked over to see Dean with a cheeseburger in one hand and a beer in the other. He had been out while you showered. “Burger?” he mumbled through his mouthful and pointed to an unopened package sitting on the table.

He pulled a second beer out of the six-pack sitting on the table and offered it to you as you sat down. “You drink beer?” His mouth was finally empty of food.

“Sometimes,” you said, taking it from his hand. “Thanks.”

You wiped the top of the bottle over with your shirt, trying to remove the condensation from its tip, and then twisted the lid off with your hand, the fizz of the air escaping the thin neck.

“I’ll take you to a mall or something tomorrow and you can pick up anything you think you might need.” Dean began in between swigs of his beer. “I’m sure you’re sick of those clothes.”

“Yeah. Didn’t exactly pack real well for my night out, did I?” You laughed at your small joke. “But my credit card is fake, remember, and I doubt anywhere around here takes my dollarydoos. I’ve got no way of paying for anything.”

“Just leave that to me,” Dean replied with a smile.

“I couldn’t. You’ve done enough for me already.” You hated being in debt to your friends, let alone someone you’d just met.

“No, really. My cards fake too…” Dean said with his now trademark grin. “But unlike yours, mine works.” He winked at you.

You woke up the next morning, your mind refreshed, but feeling not so clean as you still wore the same clothes you’d put on almost a week ago. Your eyes soon adjusted to the morning light, and you sat up to see Dean sitting at the small table by the window. He was fidgeting with a large metal object in his hands. The metal clinked and clacked together as he moved the mechanical pieces of what you now realised was a gun.

You’d never seen a gun in real life before. Hell, most people you knew in Australia probably hadn’t up close. They were objects only seen on the belts of street police, or a farm maybe, or on TV of course.

You knew there were biker gangs that probably used them too, but all you knew of that was what you’d heard on the news. Yet here you were in this dingy motel room, somewhere in the middle of the US with your new found companion Dean, a self proclaimed monster hunter who helped you escape the American police barely twelve hours ago.

The small cuts still stung on your body when you moved wrong or grazed too hard against a surface were the only evidence you had that proved this wasn’t a dream. Everything you saw before you was very real.

“Morning,” Dean grunted. His lips curving in an attempt at a warm smile. He had changed his clothes sometime during the night, no longer donning the black FBI suit, but jeans, a chequered flannel shirt, military-style jacket, and boots. His appearance was definitely more rough around the edges than the day before.

You’d call him handsome, except the real gun he held in his hands threw any thought of that out the window. A small amount of fear bubbled once again, deep in your gut.

“Hi,” you breathed out, trying not to alert him to how you really felt in the moment. Unfortunately for you, though, he read you like a book.

Dean looked down at the gun in his hands, and in quick movements, clacked the moving parts back into their usual positions and then reached around and slid the gun into the makeshift pocket, made by his back and his jeans.

“You guys banned ‘em, right?” He was right, but he didn’t give you the chance to answer him.

“You’d best get used to it.” He chuckled, tilting his head to the side. “Don’t worry. I already told you, I’m not gonna hurt you. I’m just… Always prepared. Y’know? For the things that go bump in the night.”

He stood up and started packing them away. “I thought we’d leave in about ten minutes. Get some food, get you some essentials, and then I can figure out what I’m going to do with you,” he continued.

And geez, that sounded promising.

Previous Chapter || Next Chapter

Ahhh - the first few chapter were so short. They get longer. I wrote this on the notes app on my phone before I considered really thinking about my word choices. I’m going to try uploading the next two on Sunday (16th) and Tuesday (18th) because they’re shorter.

The aussism’s are rather tame in this one, but they will become more obscure. For the Aussies playing along, I’ve wanted to slide in Rhonda and Ketut and “Charter boat? What charter boat?” in here for the longest time, but haven’t managed it yet.

Expect gems like, “We’re not here to fuck spiders,” and “It’s a long way to the shop if you wanna sausage roll,” to come ☺️

@globetrotter28 @ambiguous-avery @arcannaa @jollyhunter @zepskies

@reluctanthalfwayoptimism @supernotnatural2005 @jackles010378 @kaz-2y5-spn @applelovesposts

@jaydensluv @foxyjwls007 @deans-spinster-witch @roseblue373 @waynes-multiverse

@kazchester-fanfiction @maddie0101 @ladykitana90 @luvr4miya @amyjam78

@stoneyggirl2 @winchesterwild78 @missywinchester15 @deansbbyx @kr804573

@lyarr24 @salemslostwitch @mostlymarvelgirl @ladysparkles78 @multiversefanfics

@31miw-inkpsycho @yoursrosie @Theantisoci-alone @roseamie13 @krazykelly

@my-stories-vault @levine-23

If you’d like to be tagged in this series or any of my other works, you can let me know in a comment/ask, or you can add yourself HERE.

[autisticfaun420]

I opened up to my mom about age regression

(if you are reading this and are new to my blog I am high support needs autistic and I already have childish interests please don’t say I’m infantilizing autism)

So first of all she kind of knew something was up with me, I brought my plushie with me to my disability day program. I showed her my blog, she said she hadn’t logged into my account to check yet so it was a surprise to her. First of all she was very proud and said I was brave for opening about some of my struggles and being so candid about it, I don’t know if it’s bravery or just autism making it so I don’t know what’s appropriate to share haha. Then I showed her my posts about age regression and how I learned about it here and was like, instant hyper fixation for me. I told her about how I never felt negatively infantilized by her and my dad almost never compared to people at school or strangers and I enjoy the connection we have when my parents kind of “baby” me the right way when they take care of my support needs. Like I need to have physical touch to calm me down and being cradled and my diaper changes are met with nick names, hugs and tickles, yeah very embarrassing I’m sure but whatever. I told her about “little space” and how I already enter it when she takes care of me sometimes and she said she always knew something like was going on but never pushed me or into it and made sure I was enjoying myself in those moments. She said if it would make me happy she and my dad would for sure be willing to help me out with little space. I told her that I want to take the power back from people who infantilized me negatively and assume I can’t think for myself by doing this and that surprised her but she said it made sense. I mentioned that I want to keep what independences and adult privileges I do have and I don’t want them to think I want this 24/7 and they said of coarse they will and I trust them. She had a talk with my dad real fast and they agreed to let me spend some of the money I saved up doing internet surveys, like a hundred dollars for an age regression starting pack essentially, my dad asked if this is really what I want and I guess the way I looked at him after and nodded made him believe me. My dad talked to me about how it’s important to keep my regression inside so others don’t get the wrong idea and I said of coarse and I shouldn’t do more then take my plushie with me in public and I agree. However I’m getting an adult sized bottle and pacifier, a mobile for my special needs cubby bed and a few fisher price toys. I am over the moon ecstatic and my mom said she’ll throw in the money for overnight shipping cause I earned it for using coping mechanisms when meltdowns could of gone worse lately.

I told them about pet regression too and they were still supportive of me being interested in it, they said they would feel uncomfortable with treating their disabled child like a pet personally and I can see where they’re coming from on that. They told me that one day I can find someone special to do that stuff with. As you can imagine dating is really hard with my level of needs but I’m not completely discouraged I’ll find somebody but that’s a post for another day. We did have a talk about how much I enjoyed being on an anti elopement harness and how I would pretend play as a puppy when out on walks with her, she said she knew had a feeling that’s what I was doing. Also I had my pacifier till 4 or 5 years and she said me giving it up was one of the hardest things she saw me go through and joked about it like I’m a drug addict about to relapse on it. I still have so many oral stims and use chewerly throughout the day so I think she has a point. Imagining what a paci would feel like in my mouth makes me feel so happy. I am just excited all around and can’t wait till tomorrow. For now my mom asked if I wanted some “little time” tonight and of course she said yes. We watched In the Night Garden on the big TV while she stroked my hair and cuddled when I normally only watch shows like that on my tablet as a form of stimming I guess. It was nice watching it where I could relax. I felt extra giggly at all the dumb stuff in the show, my friends describe it as an “acid trip” if that gives you an idea about what it’s like. My mom after the episode tickles me down and played games with me like I did when I was a little kid and I loved it. I started crying tears of happiness because I felt so loved I guess you could say. She teared a little bit too and told me every mother secretly wishes they could still baby their grown children so she said she had fun, I don’t know if it’s true or not but it’s a funny thought.

I feel so happy I wanted to write this out and share with you guys. I don’t know what else to say I think I wrote out enough. Now my mom wants me to get into my pajamas early I think she’s having too much fun with this but so am I and my dad is gonna run to get some of my favorite ice cream when I was a kid. I feel so lucky to have parents who can support my physical and emotional and disability support needs.