#Blossom Rot Records

[bandcampsnoop]

12/29/23.

Jungle Breed are a Melbourne, Australia band that definitely have a sound that is a bit less dolewavy and a bit more upbeat Aussie pop in the vein of Go Get Mum, Boomgates, Pinch Points or one of my recent favorites, Soft Covers. And I'd like to throw in a reminder-comparison - don't forget Rush to Relax (Slovenia). They mine a sound similar to Jungle Breed, but with a bit more Flying Nun.

Hard to believe a band that sounds like this is on a label I've never heard of, but it's true. The LP "Wynona, Paloma, Papilloma" is being released by Blossom Rot Records. They currently have a stable of 11 artists.

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

I DREAM, NOW, OF A NORMAL LIFE WITH YOU ; SUGURU GETO

synopsis; suguru isn’t a lightweight. this is your first time actually seeing him drunk — though maybe it shouldn’t come as a surprise that he’d be the sappy kind.

word count; 9.4k (..... i got carried away ok)

contents; suguru geto/reader, gn!reader (shoko calls u "girl" but in a "girl help" way not a gendered way), written w a no curses au in mind, sugu is a sappy emotional drunk i said what i said, sickening amounts of fluff, depictions of intoxication, reader is averse to alcohol, sugu wants to marry u so bad it makes him look silly, lots of emotions & lots of love <33

a/n; this fic has been ROTTING in my drafts for the longest time but its super precious to me and now i finally get to post it!! @softgirlgonehaywire & @hayakawalove ily ty for being interested in sappy!sugu this is a treat for u <33

the bar isn’t all that far off from your apartment.

it’s a short distance, really. walk straight ahead, until you reach the record store that suguru likes to frequent, and then take a right; a minute or two uphill, and then you’ll be able to see the blue of the sea. once you’re there, all that’s left is to look for mellow golden lighting and descend a set of stairs.

which is what you’re currently doing, popsicle in hand, loose clothes and comfortable shoes on as you wallow in the mellow summer evening. everything is blue — the dark shade of the sky, and your ice pop, pastel and sweet, tasting of pure youth. the hoodie you threw on is a rich cobalt, suguru’s in name but yours in spirit. he only wears it when you complain that it doesn’t smell like him anymore.

humming a jolly tune, you take a sharp turn, allowing the summer sensations to curl around your subconscious. blissed out and content. 

you were so, so bored — stuck at home with no one to keep you company, no one to mumble snarky commentary about the show playing on tv, no one to run their fingers through your hair while your head rests in their lap. pure torture, really, being faced with the consequences of your own actions. after you stupidly told suguru you’d be okay on your own.

he even asked you twice, just to be sure, even told you that he’d prefer you to join him on his night out. and again, you declined; because it’s been so long since he had some time alone with shoko and satoru, and you were feeling a little tired anyways. 

so he gave in. heading out, with a promise to bring back a tub of your favorite ice cream, leaving you with the apartment to yourself. did you come to regret your little white lie? maybe. possibly.

but everything worked out in the end.

a pleasant breeze caresses your skin, brushing against the apple of your cheek, and you watch as peach blossoms dance in a faraway park. cicadas cling to every tree in sight, buzzing a pleasant tune, mingling with the giddy giggles of high school students enjoying their summer vacation. it’s been raining for a couple of days; you can still smell it in the air, feel it in the low tinge of humidity clinging to your skin, still hear suguru’s insistence that you bring an umbrella with you to work — just in case.

but today, the skies were clear, and it’s late, not too humid but not too chilly. and the stars are out, glimmering in that fuzzy sea of mellow cerulean, leaking out like little marbles cast into space. falling down, down, down, close enough for you to see. from here, it looks as if they’re waving. you resist the urge to wave back.

peace. bliss. a nostalgia so vibrant you could drown in it, feel it lick at your ankles like soft sea foam.

eager to scratch a certain itch in your brain, attention span zipping from one street vendor to the pop music blasting from a couple streets away, you take your phone out from your pocket. absently scrolling through your messages, until you get to the ones shoko sent you just ten minutes ago. the ones that brought you out here, into a summer evening soon to slip into nightfall, ones that have you walking to the bar you chose not to join them at.

messages that still have you pushing back a bout of giggles, chewing lazily on your ramune ice pop with a giddy smile.

sho 🚬: come get ur man sho 🚬: he’s drunk. sho 🚬: like DRUNK drunk 

you: …… um.  you: what happened to hi? hello?? good evening???

sho 🚬: no time for that. look sho 🚬: [ image ] sho 🚬: he looks so goofy lol

unable to resist the temptation, you press the pad of your finger against the screen — opening the image attachment, just to drink in the sight once again. what you see is a certain man, slumped over in his seat, cheek smooshed against the wooden table in front of him. messy hair, no longer tied into a bun, cascading down his shoulders and back. from the little you can see of his face, his skin is flushed a light pink, and his eyes are closed, fingers still curled around an empty beer jug. 

like a sleepy puppy.

a coo tiptoes on your tongue, but you bite down on your lip in an effort to stop it, just grinning at your screen with pure adoration in your lovesick eyes. 

he’s drunk, alright. an unfamiliar sight, but not at all unwelcome. because he’s cute, terribly so, so cute that it hurts, even when he’s obviously wasted. it’s almost funny — you know their drinking habits. shoko holds her liquor so well that it’s a little horrifying, and satoru can get wasted if he has more than a sip of it. and suguru?

suguru never gets drunk. he barely even drinks. out of consideration for satoru, maybe, or you. probably both. that’s just how he is; you thought he hated fish for years, because he was always so eager to give you the best bites of the sushi rolls you ordered. turns out he was just indulging you.

so, to be frank — the idea of him suddenly being drunk is a little bit of a shocker. but it’s also kind of exciting, in a ridiculous way. new, fun, just what you need when you’re bored out of your mind.

(or maybe you’re just happy to have an excuse to go see him.)

you: NOOOO  you: MY BABY 😭😭😭 you: what did u guys DO to him???

sho 🚬: satoru and him made a bet 😐 you know how they are sho 🚬: he drank like a divorced mother of four ive never seen something so beautiful

you: …. you: have i told you that you’re both terrible

sho 🚬: u love us <33 sho 🚬: anyway he’s been asking me where u are for the past ten minutes pls come i can’t stand him sho 🚬: he’s crying.

you: HUH???????? you: WHY????????????????

sho 🚬: dude i dont know sho 🚬: please come get him he’s being so sappy that satoru’s abt to throw up

you: ???? okok 😭 you: im omw ig??

sho 🚬: girl hurry he just told me he genuinely appreciates my presence in his life 😐

an exhale — laced with deep amusement — drops from your lips and spills into the summer air. it tastes like a memory from long ago.

slipping your phone back into your pocket, you raise your gaze, searching for a glimmer of goldish light. soaking up the scent of the ocean, sparkling on the border of your peripheral. salty and sweet.

no matter how hard you try, all you can think of is that certain someone, waiting for you to pick him up. your mind keeps drifting back to the way his eyes crinkle when he laughs, the way his hair falls over his face when he leans down, the sound he makes when he stretches in the morning.

you want to see him. badly. you want him near, want to feel the familiar warmth of his presence, want to see him smile and laugh and sigh and raise his eyebrow at your antics. 

so there isn’t any time to waste. you’re walking towards that familiar set of stairs before you know it, shoes hitting the asphalt with a mantra of satisfying thuds. 

and when you step in through the opened door, you’re immediately engulfed by a sense of overflowing comfort. mellow, warm lights, the soft buzzing of static from an old radio, low citypop beats trailing through the air. the bartender by the counter gives you a curt nod in greeting, before motioning towards a certain table. it’s over in the corner, covered in beer jugs and fancy glasses, with three beauties seated around it.

satoru notices you first.

a bright grin finds its way onto his face, and he waves you over giddily, happily. barely contained excitement in the motion. shoko’s gaze follows his, flitting over to meet yours — and you think she mouths an oh, thank god, before taking another sip from her glass. she brings a hand up in greeting when you come closer, and you can’t see her smile, but there’s a crinkle to her eyes; a warmth in them that you’d never miss.

”hey, guys.”

”yo!” satoru chirps, beaming in a way that’s so distinctly him it makes you soften. he looks so comfortable in his seat, with a cocktail you know is non-alcoholic and probably too sweet for anyone but him to stomach. giggling to himself, leaning over to poke suguru’s cheek, with a teasing declaration of your chaperone is here! 

and there he is. 

the man you came here for, still slumped over in his seat, unresponsive. not for long. as the lilt of your voice reaches his ears, his eyes flutter open, in a bout of recognition — even in the drunken state he’s in. an immediate sensation of familiarity creeps into his veins, rousing him from his cozy, half-asleep stupor. 

he doesn’t even grumble over the way satoru keeps poking at his cheek, interest and attention focused solely on a certain someone. you, your presence. 

and when your eyes meet his, he lights up.

it’s precious, you think, how his eyes widen, blooming with genuine affection, so endearing you could kiss him right then and there. his face is flushed, and his hair is tousled, and the warm lighting of the bar paints him in a golden hue. so perfect for him, your star in the sky. 

a smile spreads across his lips, big and happy and warm, and you can’t help but mirror it. 

(gosh, he’s cute.)

with a dizzy kind of eagerness, suguru sits up, palms flush against the table to support his weight. he stumbles out of his seat, paying no heed to satoru’s amused huff of careful! or the rattling of fragile glass.

it only takes a few uncoordinated steps for him to reach you, where you haphazardly lean against the wall, watching him amusedly. that delighted smile never leaves his lips, as his arms go to curl around your waist, big and heavy, his jaw finding its rightful place on the curve of your shoulder. 

”baby,” he drawls, fond and affectionate. breathing you in. ”sweetheart. my angel.”

a flustered puff of laughter slips from your lips, stumbling a little under his weight. his voice is syrupy sweet, overflowing with love and adoration, soft in a way that has your knees buckling. a little raspy. murmured right into your ear, sending pleasant shivers down your spine. 

he’s too sweet for you to handle, really, even sweeter than satoru’s overpriced cocktail. and he smells the same as always; a blend between coffee grounds, cigarette smoke and rain, one that never fails to soothe you. even when it’s tangled up with a vague but vivid stench of alcohol, courtesy of the drinking he’s been doing until now. 

you crinkle your nose, but don’t let go of him, nuzzling your cheek against the side of his head. words buzzing with warmth. ”hey, sugu.”

suguru only squeezes you tighter, content to have you in his arms. finally, his world makes sense again. all he can do is bask in your voice, warmth, scent — he’s just so enamored by it all. almost in a trance, heartstrings dancing along to the beat of your presence, your very existence, that appears to him as something almost angelic. soft and familiar, something that feels right at home when it’s tucked into his embrace. where he can keep it safe.

”missed you…” he murmurs, sleepy, smearing an open mouthed kiss against the crook of your neck. ”i love you s’much…”

a chuckle. ”i love you too,” you echo, running a steady hand over his back. your voice is laced with something teasing, but awfully fond. ”you really are drunk, aren’t you?”

”mm…” he only hums, cheek pressed flush against your soft skin. ”’m sorry…” he mumbles, stifling a yawn. he sounds a little guilty, and it makes you want to coo. pull his cheek a little.

instead, you laugh. amusement vowen into the bubbly noise. ”it’s fine, sugu. c’mon — let’s go home, alright?”

at that, satoru visibly reacts, placing his glass on the table with a soft clink before getting up to stretch. he grabs suguru’s discarded jacket, letting it hang off his arm as he walks over to the two of you.

”i’ll help you carry him,” he smiles, always so dependable. so ready to be of service. maybe a little too eager to carry suguru around like a sack of potatoes. 

a smile blooms on your face, and satoru gives you a playful wink. shoko just leans back in her seat, stretching idly. it feels like home with them there.

”i’ll stay here,” she hums, a faint grin tugging at her lips. ”he’s your problem now.”

”got it.” you meet her lidded eyes, sharing an amused look as satoru tries to coax suguru away from you, pulling at his cheek while he whines and clings to the fabric of your clothing.

finally, he relents, and you look back at the table with a grin. ”see you later, sho’.”

a smile is the only response you get, but it’s enough. it’s her, the same as always, still sipping from a glass of expensive whiskey and raising her hand in a silent see you. relaxed and cool, and so very lovely. 

with one arm over satoru’s shoulder and the other clinging to your hoodie, suguru stirs.

”shoko…” he groans, craning his head to look back at her, even as satoru makes a move to leave. ”don’t drink too much. and watch out for strangers…” 

he trails off, blinking drowsily, a protective tone to his voice. worried. awfully like him. neither you nor satoru can resist the chuckle you indulge in, but shoko just rolls her hazel eyes.

”i don’t need to hear that from you,” she scoffs, tinged with amusement and what you’re almost certain is embarrassment. there’s a fondness to her snark, one you’d never miss. 

(shoko will always be shoko. you know that she appreciates suguru’s concern, even if she doesn’t want to show it.)

”alright, c’mon,” satoru quips, slapping suguru’s back with a grin. ”there, there, big guy. let’s get you home, hm?”

just as you suspected, he doesn’t let you help, doing all the heavy lifting on his own. not breaking a single sweat, flaunting his strength as he hoists suguru up the steps — while you do nothing but follow, a light jacket hanging off your arm. 

cold midnight air embraces you, slathering your cheeks with the essence of summer as your shoes meet the asphalt. satoru smiles, a low exhale escaping him, dusting off his hands. ”there we go.”

suguru stumbles towards you, no longer caged in, slumping against your shoulder with a satisfied sigh. blinking slowly, as you link arms, his muddled senses adjusting to the outside world. a pleasantly blue sky, a sun long set, and a string of lamp posts to light up the street ahead of you. artificial fireflies, watching over the town you love so dearly.

you part your lips, and a soft exhale slips out, dripping with fondness. ”thanks, satoru,” you smile, meeting his gaze.

”don’t mention it,” he waves you off, but you know he appreciates it; always eager to be praised. ”can you bring him back by yourself?”

”yeah, we’ll be fine. it’s close, anyway. don’t worry.”

a hum buzzes in his throat, and his cobalt gaze drifts upwards, to bask in the starry sky. a moment passes, and then he’s looking back at you and suguru; a soft and earnest smile playing at his lips. so sincere you want to reach out, cup his cheek, make sure he knows how loved he is.

”i’ll go back to shoko, then,” he chirps. bubbly and graceful, giddy and playful. always so lovely. ”gotta make sure she stays out of trouble.”

a chuckle. you mirror his smile. ”of course.”

and with that, your precious best friend makes a move to return to the bar, taking a decisive step away from you. before he can get too far, though, a certain hand reaches out to hold onto his sleeve — keeping him still.

satoru turns around. blinking once, then twice, in confusion; faced with none other than suguru, still slumped against you. a little out of it, sleepy and disoriented, yawning quietly, but his eyes are as clear as ever. caring and sentimental. 

his gaze cuts to the bone of things. it’s something you’ve grown used to.

”thanks, satoru,” he murmurs, letting go of said man’s shirt. the words that spill from his lips are straightforward, a little tactless, but overflowing with earnest appreciation. ”you’re my best friend.”

a moment passes. the stars burn in silence.

satoru blinks.

then he sighs, with what you know is nothing more than feigned annoyance. masking his embarrassment, the same way shoko did, the same way suguru always does. your repressed, beloved little losers. 

”yeah, yeah. i got it,” he pats suguru’s shoulder, once, twice. not looking at him. ”you’re such a sap, you know that? geez.”

a grin crawls up to rest on your lips, fresh mischief blooming in your eyes. ”not gonna call him your best friend back?” you tease, a soft tilt of your head.

satoru gives you a glare, playful, one you can’t physically see from behind his shades but still somehow sense. ”don’t add fuel to the fire,” he grins, with a halfhearted flick to your forehead.

before you can bicker further, suguru yawns, loudly, closing his eyes and nuzzling into you. you share an amused look with satoru, until he shakes his head fondly.

”take care of him, alright?”

”i will. you guys have fun!”

and at last, satoru turns on his heel, coupled with a smile and a lazy wave. but suguru calls out to him once more, unwilling to part ways without saying his piece. so sentimental, so loving it comes to him like breathing.

”bye-bye, satoru,” he slurs, voice loud enough for the entire street to hear, tired and honest. raising his arm in a lazy wave. ”i love you!”

”go home already!” satoru shouts, descending down the steps with a flush to his cheeks that you’ll tease him for later. his soft laughter is carried away by the breeze, sweet and saccharine.

(satoru will always be satoru. you know that he loves suguru back, even if he doesn’t want to say it out loud.)

with a faint chuckle, melting into the summer air, you tug on suguru’s arm. ”alright,” you chirp, looking up at him. ”let’s go!”

he seems a little more awake now, at least, trying to match your steps. meanwhile, you do what you can to support his weight; he’s stumbling a bit, but you don’t mind. if anything, his weight is a comfort, your arms linked together like a lucky charm. a safe harbour.

suguru is acting kind of like a big puppy, gazing at you with hearts in his eyes. a little meek, clinging to you, trailing after you pliantly. he’s a little dizzy, still, and he needs you to get back home in one piece. it makes you puff out your chest, stand up straighter. makes you feel protective of your 6’2 boyfriend, all toned muscle and broad shoulders, the personification of scary dog privilege. but he needs you right now.

a soft bout of laughter spills into the air, as you try to ignore his heavy stare. it’s impossible, though — so you turn your gaze to meet his own, and he practically glows under the sound of your giggles, that cheeky smile you’re wearing. ”you okay, suguru?”

his eyes soften. silently, he runs a thumb over the knots of your knuckle, smoothing down your skin, thick fingers intertwined with yours. 

he looks deep into your eyes, and a soft hum of affirmation buzzes in his throat. 

”i’m just so happy,” he grins, with a sincerity that has your heart doing flips inside your ribcage. it flutters, flutters, flutters, in the wake of his unbridled joy. it buzzes like it wants to break out.

suguru has this dreamy look on his face, one you can do nothing but admire, painted over with fluorescent moonlight and pure summer bliss. one that reminds you a little of high school rooftops, midnight road trips, what it means to be in love.

you nudge him, softly, with the arm that’s tangled up in his own. tilting your head, teasing words on the tip of your tongue. ”you know, i never took you for a sappy drunk.”

suguru's only response is a cute little mmrn, steps heavy as he leans on you for support. trying his best to carry himself, not wanting to inconvenience you, but it’s just a little tough. especially when he feels this soft, this grateful — this blessed.

a giddy, dreamy smile tugs at his lips. his amber gaze travels up, towards the little pale dots of star clusters all across the night sky, gleaming like milk poured over rich coffee. then he exhales; a soft, blissful little sound. ”i’m so lucky.”

a moment passes, silently. in the distance, cicadas buzz. with a patient smile, you admire him, the reflection of starlight in his eyes. suguru has this forlorn look, etched into his expression, like he’s seeing something that isn’t quite there.

”i have satoru and shoko…” he mumbles, just loud enough for you to hear. as if he’s tasting the words on his tongue, as if he can’t quite believe them himself. that’s how lucky he feels, sometimes.

a nod. ”they love you a bunch, you know?”

(they do. they’re both horrible at saying it out loud, but you know they do. you know that they love suguru, just as much as he loves them, even if none of them are good at putting it into words. perhaps they don’t really even need to, in the first place.)

suguru mirrors the soft nod of your head, bangs falling over his eyes as he does. ”and i love them, too.” his smile grows. ”they’re my best friends.”

absently, you reach a hand out, brushing away the strands of hair obscuring his vision. and suguru stirs, his gaze shifting until it falls on you. like a moth to a flame. there’s something indescribable in his eyes, soft and heavy and tender and true.

”— and i have you.”

a stutter of your heartbeat, a jolt throughout your chest. his stare almost burns, but you can’t avert your gaze — suguru looks positively lovesick. admiring you with a dreamy gaze, as if he can’t believe you’re real. 

he reaches a hand out; cradling your face with one big palm, the rough pads of his fingers smoothing down your skin so very gently. smearing his fondness from your jaw to your cheekbone, so loving your breath hitches in the back of your throat. 

a soft, content sigh spills into the air, like a prayer that doesn’t need any words. his smile is serene.

”my angel.” 

as the words fall, that peaceful smile of his changes shape, shifting into a big, giddy grin. it lights up his whole face. a chuckle leaves his lips, content and delighted. ”i’m the luckiest guy in the world.”

and for a moment, you fear that your heart will stop beating entirely. frozen, listening to the lullaby of your heartbeat resounding in your ears. 

suguru has always been frighteningly good at flustering you — but isn’t this a little unfair? you clear your throat, hoping to regain some composure. it’s tough, though. your words could never measure up to his, could never flow as freely, but they’re honest. wholly and thoroughly. and maybe that’s enough. 

”we’re the luckiest in the world, too, then,” you echo, smiling, words barely above a whisper. willing yourself to meet his gaze. ”since we have you.”

suguru looks into your eyes. there’s starlight inside them, he thinks, shining brightly, gleaming in the dark. with the hazy filter of intoxication clouding his mind, it’s all he can think. you’re his northern star, his lighthouse. his one and only saving grace.

(you’re so, so pretty.)

a pause. after a silent moment, spent etching your features into his retinas, suguru tilts his head. his expression is unreadable.

— he boops your nose.

you blink. once, twice, caught entirely off guard; and suguru giggles. soft, giddy little breaths falling from his lips like marbles, strewn over the sand of a warm beach. his eyes are crinkled at the edges, and his smile is sweet, meeting your surprised gaze with a honeyed coo. ”you’re so cute, baby.”

silence. you look up at him. 

then you sigh, exasperated, more flustered than you’d like to admit. god. okay, he’s really out of it. for some reason, you still thought you could get a good one-liner in, but of course he had to ruin that by being a little tease.

you grab onto his bicep. gaze fixed straight ahead, giving it a tug. your steps are more decisive now, and suguru follows you happily. ”alright, alright. c’mon,” you beckon, slightly gruff. ”we’re almost there.”

when you finally reach the familiar front door of your apartment, you exhale a deep sigh, laced with pure relief. limbs tired from dragging suguru up the stairs, mind muddled and sleepy and senses practically engulfed by a man still clinging to you like his life depends on it.

after fumbling with your keys and hearing the click of the lock, you take a victorious step over the threshold, and a familiar scent greets you. soothing, comforting, a blend between fresh laundry and leftover curry and blooming hydrangeas. filling your senses with a fervent kind of bliss. of course, suguru’s does the same; intimately intertwined with the scent of home. that everlasting, never-changing blend. 

with him clinging to you like this, it’s almost suffocating — but you truly don’t mind. suguru’s warm, and sweet, and being close to him like this makes you feel at peace. his hands rest on your hips, his jaw on your shoulder, and he adamantly refuses to let go of you for even a second. it’d be annoying if he wasn’t so cute, if he wasn’t suguru geto, if you weren’t so horrendously weak for him.

what you don’t know is that suguru has an agenda. one that isn’t just i want to hug the love of my life, although partially that as well. suguru has a plan, one he’s been absentmindedly dreaming of for the past five minutes; he’s a man on a mission.

but he’s patient. always has been, always for you. so he waits, and waits, for you to hang his jacket up, for you to kick your shoes off your feet. and when you’re finally, finally finished, suguru leans in to kiss you.

— you block his mouth with the palm of your hand.

a moment passes. silent, almost tense. in his stupor, suguru’s mind can’t quite seem to comprehend the situation before him; he doesn’t understand why he isn’t pressing a kiss to your lips, right now, why he’s kissing the skin of your palm. he doesn’t understand why you look so troubled, a faint guilt simmering in your eyes. he just doesn’t understand.

all he can do is blink, dumbly, surprised. a question written on his features clear as day. 

”well, it’s just…” you sputter, sheepishly. avoiding his gaze, a little guilty. ”you know. since you’ve been drinking, and all…”

and it hurts, you think. it hurts a lot more than it should. it hurts to reject him, hurts to see the way he deflates at your clarification. like a big kicked puppy. like you just threatened to throw him out into the street.

suguru removes your hand, gently, holding it in his own as he speaks. those amber eyes are downcast, and a soft pout rests on his lips. the sight alone feels like a dagger to your chest.

”but…” he frowns, voice awfully meek. he looks so sad. ”i wanna kiss you…”

a soft sigh leaves your lips, before you can think to hold it in. oh, he’s being so unfair. guilt clings to your mind, an itch you yearn to scratch, and all you want is to kiss his pout away. but you really, really don’t want to kiss his alcohol-soaked lips.

so you settle for the second best option.

”’m sorry, sugu,” you coo, reaching a hand out to cradle his cheek. he leans into your touch, still pouting, and you tug a little at his bottom lip. wasting no time in closing the narrow distance between you.

the kisses you press against his skin are soft. peppering kisses all across his face; ghosting your lips along his jaw, trailing towards his cheekbones, and settling on his forehead. tiny little pecks, wherever you can reach. your voice is soft, muffled into his skin between butterfly kisses. ”tomorrow, okay?” 

and suguru seems to brighten up a little, melting under the contact, exhaling in pure bliss. he fervently returns the treatment, planting open mouthed kisses all over your face, respecting your wishes and avoiding your lips. they’re a little sloppy, but you don’t mind.

it does make you a little flustered, though. with his palms cradling your face, engulfing you, there’s nothing you can do except drown in his affection, the love he showers you with. it tickles — and suguru’s smile only grows, at the sound of your soft giggles. his cheeks are starting to hurt.

the state he’s in is just a little bit hazy. despite his initial dejection, he no longer minds that he can’t feel your lips against his, disappointment warded off by your smile and laughter alone. he thinks you’re so, so cute, and all he wants is to kiss you forever. 

but you have other plans.

and before you know it, you’re both curled up in bed, limbs all tangled up beneath the blankets, bodies pressed together as suguru cages you in. he squeezes you tightly, hugging you close, practically melting into you. usually, it’d be so easy to fall asleep like this. with suguru cradling you, covering your body with his own, warm and safe. he’s like a furnace. 

but right now, it’s a little tough. you’re kept awake by open mouthed, ticklish kisses pressed against your skin, supplied by the love of your life. it’s sweet, but he’s being far too distracting — as soon as your consciousness begins to fade into the fuzzy realm of sleep, he leaves a sloppy kiss against your collarbone, and you’re jolted awake once more. 

”suguuu,” you whine, dragging his name out with childish inclination. ”we need to sleep…”  

”sorry,” he only murmurs, muffled into your skin. he doesn’t stop, though, planting a wet smooch on your cheek, and then another. you squirm a little in his hold, and he emits a shaky breath. ”jus’ love you so much…”

suguru knows that he needs to stop. he knows that both of you need to sleep, that you need to rest up. that he needs to recover from the intoxicated state he’s fully aware that he’s in — but he just can’t seem to follow through with it. every cell in his body burns with a certain desire, a need to shower you in love, and it’s unendurable. with every kiss, every giggle he manages to pull from your lips, suguru’s heart fills up just a little more. 

your presence surrounds him, like a weighted blanket, and he clings to it with a desperation he never knew before you. 

in the midst of his feverish consciousness, you’re all his muddled mind can think about. the way you fit together with him like a puzzle piece, like he was formed in the shape of someone meant to hold you. like you were formed in the shape of his embrace. with you pressed up against him, limbs tangled with his, everything feels so right.

but it’s so overwhelming. 

you’re so, so close, so close he’s practically engulfed by your scent, your touch, everything that makes his heart burn with devotion. it’s beating so viscerally in his ribcage, stirring the protective instinct inside him; he just wants you to stay close, by his side, wants to keep you safe and happy. wants to make you feel loved. 

suguru’s heart feels wet and raw and bare, fully exposed for you to see. beating just for you.

with the alcohol inside his veins, and the nostalgia of the summer evening on his mind, everything weighs on him just a little too heavily. everything feels just a little too much. every sensation, every emotion, every sappy thought. all of it together is almost too much for him to handle.

all he can think of is you. how lucky he is, to have met you, to have gotten to know you. how much you’ve changed him, changed him for the better, how much of him is directly tied to your existence.

suguru never truly appreciated his name until you came into his life. it was always no more than a simple fact, a gift from his parents that he hadn’t asked for. something natural, that he didn’t question, didn’t think about. 

but you say his name with such warmth.

he wants to hear you say it, over and over again, forever. suguru — in that sweet, lovely voice of yours. better yet, just sugu, a cutesy, silly nickname he could never bring himself to actually hate. he just wants to hear you call out to him, with that warmth of yours, the one that never fails to soothe him. no matter how tired he is, how stressed. how much everything else weighs down on him. 

at the end of the day, he’s simply your sugu. and that’s all he ever really wants to be.

with a hazy filter clouding his senses, coaxing him into closing his eyes, suguru should give in. he should fall asleep, let you fall asleep. but he can’t bring himself to stop thinking about it; he just loves you so wholly. who you are, what you do. as an equal, an individual, a little galaxy tucked into a body made of flesh and blood. no matter what you’re doing, no matter where you are. 

and right now, you’re here, with him. curled up in bed, in your shared apartment, inhaling the same air, exhaling at the same time. by his side, when you could be anywhere else in the world.

his heart is yours. that’s all suguru can bring himself to think, the only coherent thought he can cling to and echo in his head. his heart is yours. forever and ever. 

he makes no attempt to stop the tears from pooling in his eyes, even as he feels them cling to his lashes, even as his breathing clogs up in the back of his throat. they’re proof of his devotion, his carefully nurtured love. growing over the years, into something almost sacred, a kind of faith. something so fervent he wouldn’t dare deny himself of feeling it.

he can’t hold in a faint sniffle, either, just barely audible. one that breaks your heart in two. it aches, aches, aches. suguru is gazing at you with glassy eyes, a sight you aren’t used to seeing — but he also looks so genuinely glad. his tears aren’t ones of sadness. you know, because you know him. 

”aw, honey…” you coo, the pads of your fingers reaching out to cradle his cheek. despite your efforts, your voice wavers when you speak, little more than a whisper. ”don’t cry... you’ll make me cry, too.”

suguru places his larger palm over yours, choking on another sniffle. the sight renders you completely helpless — you want so desperately to stop his tears from falling, but a part of you is too touched to speak. too mesmerized by how beautiful he is, translucent tears illuminated by softly flickering moonrays, lashes glimmering like shooting stars.

all you can do is smooth a thumb right under his eye, wiping away a stray tear with enough tenderness to stitch his heart back together. suguru emits a shaky breath.

”’m sorry,” he sniffles, closing his eyes. nuzzling into the crook of your neck. ”i’m just so happy… love you so much… you mean so, so much to me, i…”

an exhale, a little breathless, tears soaking through the material of the shirt you’re wearing. his shirt. that realization makes him cry even more, a shuddering breath that shatters like glass when it drops from his tongue. 

and then, in a voice so quiet you barely hear it, a soft whisper worth a million words:

”i don’t know what i’d do without you.”

and it hurts. your heart aches so sincerely, thorns curling around your ribcage, because suguru is crying, and he’s telling you all this. with such an honest intonation that you don’t dare doubt him, even for a second. heavy thumps of blood rush through your veins; he’s still clinging to you, sniffling into your neck, and you’re so in love with him that you almost can’t comprehend it.

all you can do is press a kiss to his shoulder, chaste and tender, and hug him just a little tighter. echoing his words, in earnest, desperately trying to keep your voice from breaking apart. ”i love you, too. more than anything.” a sigh, full of wonder. little butterfly kisses scattered across the expanse of his neck. ”you mean the world to me. honestly.”

with a smile against his skin, you hope so tenderly that the soft kisses will comfort him, will stop the tears from falling. 

”my sweet boy,” you murmur, lovingly, because he is. the sweetest boy you’ll ever know. suguru shudders when you press your lips against his jaw. ”i’m so, so lucky.”

with the combined efforts of your kisses, the alcohol slumbering inside his veins, and the tears running down his cheeks, suguru begins to feel awfully tired. sinking into sleep’s embrace, like a sailor lost at sea. comforted by the glimmer of a lighthouse, just out of reach.

everything feels right. he’s safe, and happy, and in love. so hopelessly, blissfully in love.

the exhaustion creeps up on him, tidal waves embracing a shore, beckoning him into closing his weary eyes. a yawn leaves his lips, and he shifts a little in your hold. you’re smoothing down the back of his head, almost protectively, and sleep is only a flicker away for the both of you. with the last of his strength, suguru snuggles just a little further into you, nose pressed up against your neck, close enough that he feels the flutter of your heartbeat. 

”wanna be with you forever,” he murmurs, sleepily, stifling another bout of yawns. his smile is sweet and dreamy. ”gonna marry you one day…”

a moment passes.

for a second, you think your heart does actually cease beating entirely.

swallowing a gulp, you allow yourself the luxury of an inhale — and fresh air fills your lungs. grounding. all you can hear is the rapid beating of your own heart, heavy thumps reverberating in your ears. warmth flows through your entire body.

marry.

the word is spoken so casually, so sincerely, as if he’s said it countless times before. as if he’s repeated it, over and over again in his mind, just to get used to the idea. as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. marriage. something so foreign, so scary, enough to send shivers down every narrow of your skeleton. such a large step to take. 

(but suguru says it with such tenderness.)

”… okay,” you whisper, at last. breathless. ”i’ll be waiting, then.”

there’s nothing else to say. you don’t know if suguru is even conscious enough to hear you, let alone understand the full weight of your words, of his own words. but you don’t mind. 

a soft smile lingers on your lips, as you stroke his hair, mind hazy and limbs heavy. nuzzling your cheek against the side of his head, full of affection. dripping from your hands down to the column on his throat, through his windpipe, down to his heart.

”goodnight, sugu.” you press a kiss to his messy hair, tender and chaste. ”i love you.”

an incoherent mutter leaves his lips, in response, one you can’t quite make out — but you don’t need to. because you already know what it means, in the same way you know that the sky is blue.

(an echo buried deep within his subconscious, voiced without effort, as easy as breathing.

i love you, too.)

the sizzling of a pan and the whirring of a coffee machine form a beautiful morning symphony, bouncing off the walls of your kitchen. to your ears, and your still sleepy brain, it’s a soothing sound — coaxing soft little melodic hums from the depths of your throat.

with such a tantalizing aroma in the air, a blend between espresso and pancake batter, you can’t help but buzz with a mellow, groggy kind of joy.

honestly, you're beginning to understand suguru’s fondness for the morning hours. waking up to his soft snores and content expression was more than enough to give you the energy you needed to get out of bed; all sleepy and relaxed and pretty, with hazy morning sunrays kissing up his bare skin, caressing his messy bedhead. 

a rare sight, awfully precious. a part of you wanted to stay in bed and admire him all morning, but the thought of taking care of him coaxed you into leaving. it’s the least you could do, really — after seeing him so sincere, so open and vulnerable. 

hopefully, his headache won’t be too brutal when he wakes up. you left some hangover pills on the nightstand, courtesy of shoko’s advice: just get him ibuprofen and coffee. works like a charm. are you a little worried about her nonchalance? maybe. but you trust her judgement. they’re a handful, but you love them — even when they’re drunk or hungover. 

which is why you’re standing in the kitchen, engulfed by the morning sunlight, in front of a sizzling pan. trying your very best not to burn the pancakes you’re making, patiently waiting for the coffee to be done. 

in your blissful stupor, caught up with thoughts of suguru and breakfast and forevers, you don’t notice another presence coming up behind you.

two arms wrap around your waist, and a jaw attaches itself to the curve of your shoulder. you startle, a little, jolting at the contact — but then you recognize that telltale scent, the familiar weight of his arms, and immediately melt into the embrace.

suguru breathes out a raspy chuckle, amused at your surprise. 

a sigh slips from your lips, content. ”good morning,” you hum, placing the palm of your hand on his forearm. suguru shifts a little, getting more comfortable as he leans against you. tenderly, not too much weight. he’s delicate like that.

”g’morning,” he rasps, leftover sleep clinging to the syllables. the usual smoothness of his voice is coupled with a deep, rough kind of tilt, one that always accompanies it in the morning. your heartbeat picks up, silently.

suguru smiles. dreamy, giddy, because you just looked so pretty, in the morning light, hair still a tad messy. humming happily, swaying slightly side to side. so irresistible. he’s beginning to understand why you love sleeping in so much; getting to wrap his arms around you like this, instead of the other way around, doesn’t feel bad at all.

he squeezes you just a little tighter, hoping it’ll convey his gratitude. there are holes in his memory, last night no more than a blurry sequence of still images, but some bits and pieces remain intact. he remembers getting drunk in a way he hasn’t since he made that bet with satoru back in high school — and he remembers that you were there to take care of him.

a smile tugs at his lips. a little giddy, butterflies erupting in his chest. he’s so damn lucky.

”thanks for taking care of me yesterday, sweetheart.”

a hum. you smile, sheepishly, patting his arm. ”don’t need to thank me for that. how do you feel?”

suguru smiles. you feel it, against your skin, a chaste kiss on your neck. ”better.”

the low purring of the coffee machine has stopped, but the sizzling of the pan remains. from beyond the opened windows, you can hear the chirping of cicadas, melodic and serene. singing a summery tune. both of you soak in the preciousness of the moment, the fragile silence, before suguru breaks it.

”everything from last night is kinda fuzzy,” he admits, clearing his throat. just a tad sheepish. you simply hum, a low noise of acknowledgement, and he continues. ”i don’t really remember anything… ’m sorry, baby. i hope i didn’t make you uncomfortable.”

your lips curl up into a tiny smile. such a sweetheart — always worrying about you. always so caring and attentive. eager to reassure him, you smooth over the skin of his arm with your thumb. ”not at all.”

then you’re taking a couple steps back, moving from the stove, and suguru follows. you turn yourself around to meet his gaze, his arms still attached to your waist, a comforting weight.

a grin blooms on your lips, a little teasing, and a flicker of mischief shines in your eyes. ”you were cute, you know.”

suguru blinks, before emitting a low chuckle. a raspy little thing. ”was i?” he drawls, as you brush his bangs away from his face. 

”mhm,” you chirp, eyes crinkled as they meet his own. you just can’t help but want to tease him, a little bit. just a smidge. ”kept going on and on about how much you love us.”

hands moving to cup his face, you squeeze his cheeks softly. and suguru lets you, too tired to resist, only giving you a lazy raise of his brow. there’s a sense of amusement in his eyes, and something in you knows he likes the attention. your teasing words buzz with endearment, akin to a purr. ”my sweet lil’ sugu.”

all he does is lean into your touch, allowing himself to melt into the tenderness of the physical contact. even as you pull at his cheek, earning you a very gentle pinch to your side. but he lets you have your fun. you’re warm, and sweet, and he’s so in love with you he’d probably let you tug his body around however you please.

still, your words leave him just slightly perplexed. he’s still smiling with half-lidded eyes when he asks you to elaborate, basking in the feeling of your thumb smoothing over his cheekbone. ”us?”

your grin widens, by a tad, something deeply amused glimmering in the depths of your iris. ”yep,” you answer, popping the p. for some reason, suguru dreads the teasing edge to your voice. ”me, and shoko, and satoru.”

a moment passes. he stiffens, for a second or two, mind processing the words. then he groans, softly, squeezing his eyes shut.

it makes you laugh, soft and amused, and he can’t help but smile along. despite the dreadful realization you present him with. no wonder he was met with so many notifications when he tapped at the screen of his phone — he didn’t read through any of them, but now he’s apprehensive to do so at all. shoko and satoru can be so goddamn obnoxious when they feel as if they have blackmail on him.

he can see it now, in his mind’s eye; shoko nagging him to run her errands, satoru reminding him of his words every time they have a slight disagreement. 

(grab me a coffee. three shots of espresso, one cube of sugar. got it?)

slacker.

(we both know i’m right. don’t be so stubborn, suguru! it’s okay to be wrong sometimes.)

asshole.

(c’mon. you said you loved me, right?

so mean. and here i thought you loved me!)

idiots.

(he does love them. more than anything. even when they’re being absolutely insufferable.)

suguru just sighs, deep and fatigued, already anticipating his doom. ”they’re never gonna let me live it down, are they?”

a giggle slips from your lips, and his heart flutters helplessly. ”probably not. my condolences.”

another sigh. it only makes your smile widen. there’s something awfully delighted, in your eyes, as you cradle his face in your hands. ”well, i thought you were very sweet!”

”yeah, yeah…” he mutters, vaguely amused. placing one of his large palms over your hand, where it rests on his cheek. ”i won’t be doing that again anytime soon.”

a chuckles bubbles up from within your throat. ”aww,” you pout, giving way to a teasing grin. ”that’s a shame. i wanted to hear you talk about how much you love me again.”

suguru blinks. 

then he smiles. a very particular smile, characteristic, one you’ve come to associate solely with him. resting somewhere in the intersection between a soft grin and a teasing smirk. a flicker of mischief shines in his eyes, and you realize your mistake.

you can tease suguru all you want; but he'll always turn the tables on you, at the end of the day.

”oh?” he chuckles, fondly, thumb smoothing over the lines of your hand. his eyes gleam, looking straight into yours, shining with something mildly devilish. ”i don’t need to get drunk to tell you that, baby.”

in a smooth motion, one you can’t help but silently envy, suguru intertwines his fingers with yours and brings your hand to his lips. he never once breaks eye contact, gaze heavy as he basks in your flustered expression, planting a soft kiss against your knuckle. reverent.

”i love you. more than anything,” he purrs, lips still lingering on your skin. warm enough to burn. ”you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

a pause. heat crawls up your spine, and a flush rises to your cheeks. you couldn’t stop it if you tried.

”my everything,” he continues, intent on flustering you as much as humanly possible. voice low and smooth, honeyed and deep, and worst of all; terribly earnest. lips trailing over your knuckles, against every knot, so soft that you barely feel it. ”my entire world.”

”okay, okay!” you sputter, an embarrassed hue to your cheeks, your gaze landing on the windowpane to your right. his stare is just too heavy, too deeply in love. overwhelming. ”point taken. nevermind.”

suguru laughs, genuine and full. warm and amused, deep and real, and you catch yourself thinking that you don’t want to go a single day without hearing it. even if it’s at your own expense.

a coo rests on his the tip of his tongue, but he bites it back, opting to lean forward instead. he trails the pads of his fingers along your jaw, touch like a butterfly, lifting your chin up ever so slightly. then he closes the distance between you. 

in your throat, your breath hitches.

— but he doesn’t kiss you. suguru stops right in front of your lips, so close you can feel his breath on your skin, taking a moment to simply look into your eyes. and despite how flustered the close proximity makes you, you can’t bring yourself to look away. heart fluttering madly, a string of staccatos against your parted ribs.

a tilt of his head. amber eyes gleaming, crinkled and fond. ”can i kiss you, now?” he asks, grinning softly. hand smoothing down your hip, big and warm, teasing. ”i made sure to brush away all the alcohol. or do you still not want to?”

you pause. 

”hey, what happened to not remembering anything?” you pout, narrowing your eyes. the corner of suguru’s bottom lip twitches upwards.

but he only shrugs, feigning nonchalance, a playful glint in his eyes. ”guess i was just that disappointed.”

a giggle flows from your lips. he drinks it in, gazing at you with pure contentment.

”alright, alright... c’mere,” you coo, smile honeyed and sweet. tracing your fingertips along his jaw, brushing a silky strand of hair behind his ear. you take in the sight of him, meeting his lovesick gaze. he squeezes at your hips softly, a little impatient — so you finally lean in.

suguru’s lips are warm, when they meet yours. they taste like sunlight, devoid of any alcoholic flavour, just like he so kindly assured you of. and it’s a little amusing, the thought of him in front of the bathroom sink — desperately scrubbing his teeth, just to get his kissing privileges back. such a dork. 

he’s your dork, though.

suguru sighs into the kiss, smiling giddily, satisfied at last. a sound you can’t help but mirror. he deepens it, ever so slightly, fingers squeezing gently at the plush of your waist. a hum of approval buzzes in your throat, and his smile only grows.

when he pulls away, that smile is all you can see, along with the ever so slight flush to his cheeks. a hint of peach dusting his skin, framed by the sunrays caressing his jaw, highlighting his handsome features. breathtaking. 

before you have a chance to protest, he’s leaning in again, to press one more chaste kiss to your lips. your heartbeat picks up.

everything finally feels just right.

the warmth of the sizzling pan, the fragrance of freshly made coffee and now-burnt pancakes. the light of the morning sun, scattered across the open space of your apartment, splotches of life painting everything in a heavenly glow. the love in the air, all soft and light and comfortable.

domestic bliss. with suguru, who never seems to change, no matter how many years go by. if you could live in this moment for the rest of your life, forever and ever, you’re sure you’d die happy.

and wow, is that a heavy word. forever. 

(but suguru makes it feel so very, very light.)

forever feels a lot more real, like this. cradled in the midst of a drowsy morning, bumping elbows with the man you love most, after getting to take care of him in his most vulnerable state. accepting every part of him, and having him accept you just as fervently. 

just this moment alone is worth far more than you could ever comprehend. 

suguru, with his warm hands, his familiar embrace. your shared laughter, bouncing off the walls of the kitchen as you try in vain to save your scorched pancakes. and his smile, his fervent devotion, coaxing him into eating them even though they’re burnt at the edges and don’t taste even a quarter as good as his. because you made them, for him, and that makes them taste sweeter than anything.

you stare at him, from across the table, admiring the sight you’ve grown so used to; suguru, with his slightly tousled hair, mug in hand and smile painted on his handsome face. drowned in sunlight, pink petals flitting in through the opened window. you don’t want a single day to ever pass without you seeing this. what does that mean, exactly? you think you know. 

it means forever.

(forever, forever, forever. what a pretty word.)

marriage. you think of it, again, let it linger in the depths of your skull, bounce around until you grow just a little more used to it. and it’s a scary thought, for sure. a terrifying thought, even, something so foreign that it makes you nervous. but you truly wouldn’t mind doing this forever — not one bit. not if it’s with him.

and, unbeknownst to you, maybe that promise of forever isn’t all that far off.

maybe it’s only a couple rooms away, hidden within the depths of a certain drawer, until suguru finally gets the courage to bring it out. and maybe, just maybe — that day isn’t all that far off, either.

(suguru smiles at you, from across the table. he thinks you look ethereal, sipping from your morning coffee, blinking tiredly. so sweet and angelic.

all he can think of is forever.)

[withleeknow]

seasons of you.

pairing: minho x reader genre/warnings: established relationship, tooth-rotting fluff or at least i hope so lmao, not v edited and literally no one is surprised lol i sound like a broken record atp just adding that into every post word count: 0.7k note: inspired by a highly fucked up thing that @matchannie said to me yesterday lmao it has not left my brain since you said it you absolute monster

as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡

navigation / masterlist / ko-fi

minho falls in love with you four times a year.

minho falls in love with you in the spring, over blooming cherry blossoms and vibrant daffodils that greet you on your weekly sunset walk. over the feeling of your fingers intertwined with his own without soft fluffy gloves getting in the way, now that it's finally warm enough to retire that extra layer of protection for the season. over the sun coming out of hibernation and filling your days with golden light, falling upon your face and casting you in a magical hue. over the remnants of winter that still leave behind a palpable chill in the air early in the morning or late in the night, that has you reaching out for the comfort of his warmth. over your delighted smile when he brings home a bouquet of tulips after a long day at work. over your glassy eyes, reddened nose and flushed cheeks as he takes care of you when the seasonal allergies kick in.

minho falls in love with you in the summer, over picnics in the park where you both lay on blue gingham picnic blankets, your head on his chest, as you watch the clouds overhead drift peacefully. over watermelon gelatos passed between teasing lips, the confectionary melting too quickly for your liking under the blazing sunlight. over spontaneous drives to the beach even though neither of you can swim, but you go just for fun, just to build sand sculptures in the shape of your cat babies and stand on the edge of the water to splash at each other. over long naps on the couch on days where you're too lazy to venture into the outside heat, preferring to stay cuddled up together under the air conditioner with niki playing in the background.

minho falls in love with you in fall, over shared slices of pumpkin pie as you watch the leaves turn yellow and red right outside your window. over the adorable way you hide your face behind your hands on nights where he puts on a horror movie because he insists on honoring the halloween spirit. over your off-key rendition of taylor swift's all too well (the 10-minute version) for most of the season because you adamantly claim that it's autumn's official anthem. over weekends spent attached at the hip, baking sugar cookies for hours on end. over your crestfallen pout as you take note of how the days keep getting shorter and shorter, already missing warm sunny weeks with all your heart.

minho falls in love with you in winter, over matching scarves and beanies, even though he often has to carry them for you because you have a bad habit of forgetting them before you go out. over the first snow of the season because they say that if you witness the first snowfall with the person you love, then you will stay together for a long, long time. over sweet cuddles in bed as a bad christmas movie plays on tv, and you fall asleep on his shoulder about half an hour into the movie despite being the one to select the movie in the first place. over your return from a shopping spree with your girlfriends with nothing for yourself but everything for soondoongdori, from christmas themed clothes to treats and toys.

but then again, maybe it's not entirely accurate to say that minho falls in love you merely four times a year. if he wants to be precise, then he would say that he falls for you anew every morning he wakes up and sees you asleep in his arms like a delicate miracle granted by a star he once used to wish upon. if he wants to get technical, then he falls in love with you with every smile that you send his way, which is a terribly sappy thing for him to admit but it doesn't make the statement any less true.

minho loves you every day of every week, of every month, of every year. he's loved you before he even met you, when you were just a romanticized idea in his head and hadn't yet walked into his life like the angel he was always meant to find. he loves you every minute of every hour; there isn't a second where you're not on his mind, not a single beat of his heart that doesn't spell out your name. he loves you throughout the seasons and a million times in between.

permanent taglist: @onlyycb97wife @starsandrqindrops @borahae-reads @abbiestearsricochet @cutiespaghetti @anthropologykpopmultistan @moonlinos @mjnhoz @caitlyn98s @piercidh34rts  @stayceebs97 @linocz @yaorzu-blog @biribarabiribbaem @kayleefriedchicken @extrhotjne @caitxx1 @palindrome969 @todorokiskitten @azuna-sz @meanergreener @nxzz-skz @jazziwritesthings @poutypoutybin @bookyeom @jisuperboard @wyzminho @amarecerasus @channection @lastgreatamericandynasty1 @judeduartewannabe @chanshyunjin @firelordtsuki @astronomicallyyy @alm334 @lashaemorow

all rights reserved © withleeknow. reposting, translating and/or modifying is not permitted by any means. [posted 08.04.2024]

[tmntxthings]

YOU 🫵 *points directly at that mean y/n, you, and that anon that asked for ansgt against rottmnt Raph* how very dare you !!!!!!

(If you have time and if your asks are open (didn’t see any warnings that it was close)) can you PLEASE do something fluffy and that reader is ABSOLUTELY head of hells for raphie? I’m talking flowers, I’m talking spending hours on a claw machine to get a plushie he wants it, I’m talking admiring and tracing his features slowly with the most stupid and hopeless in love expression the turtles have ever seen, im talking speaking up for him against anyone that mistreats him, doing his fav dishes, preparing balanced meals, paintings, little love notes, lipstick marks, poems under moonlight, I want devotion!!!! I want that sweet Puppy love !!!!! EVERYTHING. 100% a simp and isn’t afraid to show it, until Raph returns their actions, then they get bashful/blushing up a storm lol

thank you and have a good day

��一Wherever You Go・゜・。

author’s notes: ain’t no way I’m doing that whole list we’ll be here forever, BUT don’t worry I’ll make sure he feels the love nonetheless

warnings: fluff, tooth-rotting fluff, bordering on a crack fic that’s purely just to show a character love ^ twas asked of me, unedited

Song: Never Getting Rid of Me by Christopher Fitzgerald

—————————————————————————

It was no secret that you adored Raph. And it didn’t bother you one bit that everyone, big red turtle included, knew that you had heart eyes for him.

Your love language for him couldn’t be restricted to just one kind. You exhibited all kinds of love for him. You hoped it wasn’t overwhelming. It was hard to stop yourself once you had an idea though.

One time you saw a beautiful bouquet of red roses. Instantly you had them in your hand, and a receipt in the other. They reminded you of his bandana. So bright, eye-catching! And down to the lair you went, shooting off an incoming text to Raph to give him a last-minute notice.

Earlier occasions where you hadn’t sent a text left you waiting around at a manhole cover forever. If Raph was asleep it would be hard to rouse him with just a notification. He’d need a full on blare horn. Or worst case scenario the boys weren’t even at the lair! Thankfully, most of the time they were home. Raph buzzed back with a text saying he’d be right up to open the cover for you. Sewer covers were heavy!

When the round slab of stone was lifted you offered up the bouquet to the darkness below instantly. It was quiet for a moment, before Raph emerged, cheeks tinted a darker green. “For me?” He questioned, his tone held a quality as if it was unbelievable for him to receive flowers.

But you didn’t chide him for it. In fact you only smiled warmly and nodded your confirmation. “I thought of you the moment I saw them. What do you think? Aren’t they pretty?”

His hands finally went out, accepting your gift. Holding them gingerly and away from his plastron. He seemed to not want any of the petals to snag on his sharp edges. “Raph loves ‘em” he murmured, his eyes entranced by the blossoms now that he could get a closer look.

This moment right here was picture worthy! You wished you had Donnie’s ability to just record everything, that way you could screenshot this later. Maybe put it as your screensaver. Instead you just watched, hands clasped as you waited for Raph to come out of his stupor. Which he did, and started asking you about your favorite flowers and invited you down to the lair.

~

You don’t know how they got the arcade machines down there. But it sure as hell beat going to Chuck-E-Cheese! Nothing against the place but it costs so much and all the games down at the lair are rigged to play for free! Which was awesome because you had finally decided, you weren’t leaving the claw machine until you won Raph’s dream plushie.

The poor turtle had played this game constantly ever since they mysteriously got the machine. He was able to get two plushies but they weren’t the ones he really wanted. The ultimate prize was a brown teddy bear with a little red bow tie. He was absolutely adorable. And Raph’s obsession with winning his prize was even more endearing. So when Raph texted you a picture of his defeated expression against the glass of the claw machine, you had to take matters into your own hands.

Raphie 😍❤️😚🤗🥰 - [ <image> 🥺 it’s hopeless ]

Y/n - [ omw asap, don’t worry raphie i’ll get you teddy! ❤️💪 ]

Well, easier said than done is a term of phrase for a reason. You banged your head against the glass or you tried to at least. But Raph’s calloused palm was in front of the glass before your forehead could make contact. Still you drew back to bang it against his rough skin anyway. He knew your frustrations, the claw machine was merciless. You had been at the lair for well over two hours. The first thirty minutes in had been fine. You had chatted with Raph easily, confident that eventually you would get the hang of the mechanism.

But then an hour went by. And then another. Your concentration on the game had dried up the easy conversation between you and big red. The atmosphere was intense as if the two of you were in battle together. Currently you were both defeated. His other hand patted your back, knowing exactly how you felt. “It’s okay, maybe Teddy isn’t meant to join my pile of plushies.”

You took in a deep breath. Stopping your frustrated head thumps and turned to look Raph in the eyes. “You’re right, Teddy is meant to sleep right next to you! And I’m gonna make that happen!” You harrumphed as you turned back to the evil machine. It was your enemy. It was working against you. All you wanted to do was this one thing and make Raph happy! This time for sure, you thought to yourself as you hovered the claw over to where Teddy lay amongst the other plushies.

“Like a boss!!!” You yelled as you smacked the button that lowered the claw. Both of you watched anxiously as it dropped, its metal fingers enclosing around Teddy’s brown fur, and it started to rise. But you had been here before and didn’t dare to celebrate pre-maturely before the damn stuffed animal was in Raph’s arms. The grip the machine had on the animal was shaky at best. The claw swayed from side to side as it carried the plushie over to the drop box. You were sweating bullets and could smell Raph’s anxiety stink.

But before the claw reached its final destination, the plushie tumbled out of its hold. You turned to Raph who let out a breath he had been holding. You expected to see disappointment in his eyes but it was quite the opposite. He looked happy as his snaggle-tooth dug into his lower lip. “Nice try,” his eyes crinkled shut with his smile. “Wanna go play DDR?” You sighed, letting the claw machine have the win for now. Happy to see Raph’s eyes light up with a burning passion as he raced over to his favorite spot, the left side, for DDR. “Ready to face the master??” He goaded but it was pure excitement to play one of his favorites of all time. “So ready!” You laughed, hopping up on the dance pad to get absolutely demolished because you didn’t have any rhythm. But you played regardless because when Raph was having fun so were you.

And yes, later that night you did bribe Donnie with twenty bucks to replace that damned claw with one that would actually work. So next time you were able to win Teddy and present Raph with the ultimate present. It costed you another twenty to keep Donnie’s mouth shut about ever having any involvement so you could have all the credit and look like a hero in Raph’s starry eyes. He sent you pictures of him and the stuffed animal almost every night with his goodnight message.

Raphie 😍❤️😚🤗🥰 - [ <image> Teddy says goodnight! ]

Y/n - [ gnight teddy, and goodnight raph-a-la 🤗 sweet dreams ]

~

“What did you say?!” Your voice raised as you stepped into the lair’s common room. Shelldon had just so kindly lifted the manhole cover, since no one else from the group chat was responding! You thought it weird since usually someone was on their phone *cough* Donnie *cough* but sometimes they were busy! Which you understood. Until you had seen Shelldon’s worried pixelated expression as he urged you on down the sewer system to the abandoned subway station.

That was when you heard it. Heated arguing. It was hard to listen to especially when it was Leo and Raph. You knew how much all of them loved one another, a love that even harsh words couldn’t damage. But sometimes, things were said in the heat of the moment that weren’t meant to argue a point. They were said to hurt the other person. That’s where you drew the line. That’s where you felt the need to step in, even if you weren’t family.

“Leo, if you’d just try, even a little, at accepting the role as a leader. It’s not that bad-“

“If it’s not that bad then why don’t you just take it back huh?”

“You know why. Dad said you-“

“Dad said this! Dad says that! What are you his little pet? Since when do we do whatever Dad says?!”

“Leo, c’mon,”

“Raph if you don’t wanna be the leader anymore. Then fine. But don’t push it on to me.”

“I never said that, Dad thinks-“

“For someone who’s catchphrase is ‘boss’ you really like being someone’s little bit—“

And that’s when you stepped into the room. Eyes hardened as you marched in between the two turtles. “What did you just say?!” You dared Leo to repeat. But as he studied your stance and the way you got in front of Raph, as if protecting him from Leo, the blue turtle started to duck his head into his shell. Feeling remorseful for getting so heated. He made a ‘tsk’ noise before heading off to his room. Mumbling sorries as he passed by.

You turned to Raph to check the damage. It seemed like just the two of you now. You wondered if they had started fighting because Mikey and Donnie weren’t around. Raph was rubbing the side of his head, looking drained and it tugged on your heart strings to see him that way. You knew brothers argued, sure they even fought sometimes. But it was hard to see them go at it like this.

“I know you’re not okay, so I won’t ask. But just know Leo didn’t mean any of that. I know he didn’t.”

Raph gives you a weak smile in return. Like he doesn’t believe you. But doesn’t have the heart to say it aloud. So you go to him, grabbing his hands and pulling him towards the couch. He goes without resistance. Once seated, you turn to him and he turns to you. Your hands go up and you cup his face now that he is within your reach.

“He’s scared. Just like you are. I know it’s hard to tell right now when he’s saying anything but that. But you know Leo, he’ll spew just about any nonsense to not say how he truly feels.”

The words turn over in Raph’s head as he thinks. He sighs, softening in your hold as he nods. He looks a little better now. But you don’t let him go. You trace the contours of his face. Lovingly. Letting the tension in the room ebb out until the early argument has left both of your minds completely.

“It’ll be okay. I know it will.”

You murmur. Your hands finally letting go as Raph’s breathing deepens. He fell asleep to your touch. Leaned back into the couch as his snores start up. You scoot over until your head can rest on his arm, pulling up your phone to text Leo to get his ass over here. A portal silently opens up on the other side of you and as Leo sits next to you, you pull him closer with your arm.

“Dummy.”

You chide the blue turtle as tears fall down his green cheeks. He huffs at the insult but knows you mean well. When you leave the lair that night the two brothers are tangled together in a pile that will surely be four later on, alls forgiven.

~

Raph eats just about anything. His stomach knows no limits. So you could char the meat on accident and he’d still wolf it down like it was the best meal he ever had. While that was kind of him, you wanted to really impress his palate. So on the topic of food one late night text session, you asked of his favorites. To which a long list was sent over. So you had to ask him again.

Y/n - [ Okay, that’s really cool that you have so many. But which one is your favorite among the favorites? 👀 ]

Raphie 😍❤️😚🤗🥰 - [ that’s a hard one… uhmmmmm ]

With a lot of encouragement he managed to get the favorite list down to five choices. To which you just decided to hell with it, you’ll have a feast! It took a lot of preparation. And more time than you thought you’d ever spend in your kitchen. But five meals were cooked and prepared perfectly on your round table. Now, you wished you’d told Raph of your plan sooner and hoped to the moon above that he didn’t have plans tonight.

Y/n - [ >image< hungry? C: ]

Raphie 😍❤️😚🤗🥰 [ 😱 always! headin ur way ]

Raphie 😍❤️😚🤗🥰 [ hereeeeeeee open ur windowwwww ]

And yes somehow he fit. He was good at wiggling around. He cleared each and every plate once you had tapped out after trying to keep up with him. Food comas hit the both of you soon after as he got up and claimed he would do the dishes. He was so cute as he wobbled up sleepily from the kitchen chair. Arms full of plates and platters as well as cups for not only water but various sodas/juices had been served that you knew to be Raph’s favorites as well. When he had asked what the occasion was you didn’t have any in mind.

“I just wanted to!”

You chirped. Happy to feed him. Happy to have made his day. Now he was as careful as one giant turtle could be with your plates, but to his dismay the bottom one from the pile ended up breaking due to the clatter when he placed them in the sink. He wouldn’t know it until he was practically done with cleaning, feeling so good about himself for not breaking any of the— oh there it was. The last one. In pieces.

“Raph is so so sorry! You made a nice meal only for Raph to break your plate!”

No matter how much he wished he could fuse the remains back together, he’d need glue. And you apparently didn’t have any in your apartment. He sighed to which you hushed all his worries away.

“Raphie! It’s just one plate, I’ve got more! Plenty more as you can see!”

You, who had been drying the dishes he washed. Gestured with the damp towel towards the pile of neatly stacked plates that were all dry. The force of which you whipped the towel was more than you had intended and you both watched as that perfect stack fell over, onto the counter and off on to the floor.

“Well. I may need to go buy some more.”

You admitted sheepishly. Raph didn’t know whether to be upset for you or laugh at the ridiculousness of the whole situation.

“Yeah, let’s go get some now!”

After picking up and sweeping to make sure all the shattered pieces were in the trash. That’s exactly what the two of you did. It was little things that Raph did, like worry needlessly over you accidentally cutting yourself with one of the broken plate pieces. Or him getting shy at every compliment and gift you had to offer him. His humble nature. How he readily takes on responsibilities. His love for his family. His diligence when it comes to crime fighting and working out. His carefree side. You loved it all. You told him all the things that enamored you to him. And the two of you were happiest, when you could just spend time together like this. Doing little things.

—————————————————————————

[thewanderingkaya]

Beelzebub(Record of Ragnarok) x female reader who is like Castorice from Honkai Star Rail

the ceaseless demise of ambition  .

Summary: beelzebub spent his life alone ever since the realisation of Satan.. he never made effort to interact, that is, until he met you.

Pairing: Beelzebub x Castorice!Reader 

wordcount: 2.1K

a/n: requested by anon! Yay - fulfilling my first crossover fic/request in general!! Reader has gloves because things die when they touch em, thats all the stated info the rest of reader’s description is vaguer. BEELZEBUB WANTS DEATH. The hardest part was finding the right behavior to give beelzebub I hope it didn’t stray from his character. I tried to dig up as much info as I could about castorice, (read every single lore article I could find) kinda HC’S but it’s mixed with story telling kinda writing enough of me yapping go and read!! x 

Dividers : @fae-and-wolf

The first time Beelzebub ever set his eyes on you was when he was taking a brief stroll in the enclosed garden of Valhalla. His gaze flicked up from the deep purple of the blossoming buds to your form, sitting poised on one of the marble benches carved. His hand dropped from the stem as his whole body turned to face you, studying your appearance. This is the first he’s seen of you - not that he emerges from his quarters full of research often - at the sanctuary where he would go to clear his mind. There are rotting flowers and dying soil surrounding you, but Beelzebub takes little thought to that, just kind of… blankly staring. He doesn’t approach you though, instead peeking at you from between the leafy stalks. 

His intrigue dissipated quickly as he hadn’t stirred from his quarters for days, engrossed in his findings an experiments. Nails dug into scattered papers as Beelzebub grits his teeth with frustration. Sooner than he can fight it, his feet are planted at the threshold of the greenhouse. Beelzebub didn’t expect you to be there again, he hadn’t really given you a thought after that one sighting, though he found himself scanning the controlled foliage for your figure. 

You’re there.. Behind an assortment of trees, your back to him as you fondle with something in your hand. Realizing you’re handling a flower. Beelzebub’s jaw clenches as he stares at the flower, its deep blue and cerulean petals withered into dried husks. His eyes widen with curiosity, this is unlike anything he has really seen before; and certainly never expected you to display such power. After that day he cannot stop thinking about you, what he could do with your abilities, what he’d be able to finalize after thousands of years of trial. 

Your third encounter was accompanied by Hades. You and the God of the Underworld are well acquainted; forasmuch as Hades holding the title of King of the Dead, and you, the daughter and Guardian of the River Styx.. You two were bound to be familiar with each other, something Beelzebub did not consider. Hades introduced you to him, albeit Beelzebub’s surprise, his face was stony and his lips pursed in a thin line - warranting no real emotion. Not to say your reaction was the same, you were more… polite. Courteously dipping your head in greeting, your features more supple but your gloved hands were intertwined tautly. How strange, the more Beelzebub made brief conversation, the more he wanted to boil over with his questions. 

Unexpected but fortunate for Beelzebub, Hades informs the Lord of the Flies with some information with a knowing tone. Explaining your stature as the Embrace of Death, your position of a member of the Chrysos Heir, and your abilities that can make a simple material deteriorate with a touch of your hand. Hade’s tone would edge expectancy as he enunciated the latter. 

With this newfound knowledge, Beelzebub would spend days observing you undetected. Surveying you when you sharpen your skills, scanning your types habits and how entities succumbed to your touch, often gathering the corpses if they hadn’t fully vanished into particles. Beelzebub would keep a ledger, full of unfinished studies of your assets and possible capabilities. But blank spaces littered the pages, hours of work still remain incomplete, all because he has just been watching from afar. What he needs to do is get up close, as this is only opportunity. Sometimes Beelzebub stares at the blank - no - unfinished pages with a blank stare, only that his eyes dry out as he peers down at the empty spaces where the truth should lie. His teeth grind as his shoulders squared, ready to throw his records halfway across the room. Why couldn’t he bring himself to talk to you? Was the looming pit overwhelming Beelzebub because he didn’t want to accidentally attach his one, and possibly, only chance at putting himself to rest? No, he had to do something. 

You two start talking and having simple conversations, a step up from what he’d been doing anyway. Beelzebub would ask you questions, genuine curiosity sparked in the back of his mind, but never really showed in his tone or expression. You found it odd, but were happy to enlighten such inquiries. Over time you explained what he already knew, sometimes giving snippets of new information, but that wasn’t long lasting enough. He needed to get closer, at least closer enough to allow him physical examination. 

You agree to help as Beelzebub asks you to perform an experiment - a way to make a kill switch for his prior experiments after hundreds of malfunctions and failures.. You’re unable to see past his lie as you willingly accept his task, wishing to possess a deeper understanding of your abilities. The ‘killswitch’ he needed was coated in generous lace of deception, yes it was a trigger to end life, but it wasn’t for his experiments. His heart jumps for the first time in eons as he appreciates that this might be the final way that he can meet his demise. This unending curse could be severed.

Beelzebub’s hopes increase as the days decrease. Your embrace was tested on several types of objects, from organic, to inorganic, even substances like liquids or gases. As more time passes, your limits are exerted more than you were used to, Beelzebub stoic and sharp as he attempts to extract your ability, hoping to turn it into a form of drug that welcomes inevitable death. He never fails to notice the tension in your hand, gloved or not, even when it hung limply at you side. He notices the way your wrist relaxes, and your palm loosens as his hands meet yours. 

You refuse to touch any person or individual with an ungloved hand, not doubt why. Your hands starved of another beings physical contact. People have always been wary of you, their behaviors and movements painstakingly gingerly as they shift around you. Though Beelzebub was never so delicate with his movements. He made movements in his chambers - turned into lab - with purpose. It’s something you marveled at, later questioning. Beelzebub explained the enchantment that his long-gone friend, Lilith casted on him, he was never allowed to die, it was physically impossible; and every attempt and loophole was halted. You knew Beelzebub had a facade, putting aside his usual flat expression, you could tell this meant a lot to him. You should say, after hearing his explanation to his earnestness, you came more comfortable with your own movements too. 

You two share moments Beelzebub never expected to have. You spoke about your duties as the Servant of Death, guiding souls from the underworld to trial. Beelzebub mindlessly paid attention, his library of details of you growing steadily. 

You disclose some things of your past, only feeling as it was right, he did for you. Uttering the tragic death that undergo your own foolish mistakes..

Beelzebub’s been in your shoes before, ostracized from other beings for being “cursed by Satan.” Understanding your hesitance to be close to people. Maybe that’s why he feels a magnetic draw to you, and you him. 

Beelzebub’s excitement of his passing ebbed away like his indifference towards you. He felt a lot more seen with you, as you did with him too. But like you having your boundaries, he had his too. Objecting letting his guard down too much near you, in case Satan ever took over him again. He did not want to lose or be responsible for another murder of a companion, maybe he was growing to enjoy your company?

Not in a thousand years would it ever appear anywhere but his mind, but, Beelzebub adores you. Your powers, your stature, your calmed personality. You weren’t crazy, but you weren’t too stoic either, the perfect mix that kept him entertained as much. Usually being by himself in his lab, no noise but the fire crackling and slithering through the air, him alone with his thoughts. You could say that the dead silence obstructed his work, his experiments that failed because of one simple mistake caused by the disruption of his thoughts. But now that you are accompanying his presence, Beelzebub feels more at home. He was never one for lively settings, but a. Touch of someone else’s - no - your existence is all he needs. 

You enjoy simply watching Beelzebub work. Eyes locked on his features as he organised the files littered on his desk. Brows furrowed and jaw clenched in deep concentration. Or when he adjusts your form, allowing easier access to see the origins of your power. His grip on you firm, and eyes sparked with dedication.

Frequent nightmares are common for Beelzebub. Remembering the screams and chokes of Lucifer, Azazel, and Samael. Beelzebub wakes up from his desk frantically. His breaths are short as he recollects his bearings, nails subconsciously dug into the wood of his desk laden with research. Mind busy with shrouding thoughts and assurance, his mind skips over the hand placed delicately on his shoulder blades, a figure behind him. Then, a voice, Your voice. Ringing through his ears, hauling back into reality. 

You’re there standing over his hunched form. Hands softly caressing his broad shoulders, croaking your concern. It eventually calms him down. But the pit of memories and the familiar feeling of them being wiped at the same time brought him back down.

Your soothing touch freezes up in a dreadful realisation. An alarming sight, one you were not used to, your gloves absent from where they would be now. You back away, dread pulled down your features. It took a moment for Beelzebub to catch on, dealing with his own demons. 

His mouth gaped with something to say but his thoughts run like water. Maybe this is the way it’ll end- something this neglected… this simple. 

Moments pass, nothing happens.

The air was sour with uncertainty. Two individuals who wished for different things. Relief floods over you when his form stays, your hand gripping your wrist. But disappointment wrecked Beelzebub’s final thoughts when nothing happens. He doesn’t speak much after that, but you are still hooked on how he was immune to your deadly touch.

Now everytime Beelzebub has these reoccurring nightmares, you are always at his side at once. He’s fond of this change, always having to wake up breathless, and recover on his own. It wasn’t like he was not used to it, but having you by his side… Made him never want it to change. 

When the experiment ends, Beelzebub never mentions it to you again. What he did with the successful vial, if it really worked. also avoiding telling you about the real reason he had you be his companion. Never really the type to explain things, even if it meant a lot to you, if you never know, you won’t need to find out..

Years pass smoothly, staying friends - as if he wasn’t the only person you could interact with properly. Never once have you seen Demonic Destrudo, although you have heard descriptions of it. Unwanted whispers clamour to discuss the horrors of Beelzebub’s doings. You don’t necessarily like the comments, though Beelzebub himself doesn’t care. Merely walking away when he picks up any sign of gossip. You try to avoid causing a scene. A simple frown of a brow and pursed lips worked fine to express your exasperation towards these disdainful thoughts.

But you noticed Beelzebub has been growing a lot more protective.. no— possessive. He seems to always be trailing behind you, at your side, or looming directly over you. Reckless like nothing else but you should be with him, you find it kind of overwhelming.. 

Beelzebub becomes a lot more comfortable around you physically - but only in private. After a long day, his firm arms leaning on you from behind, his head buried in the crook of your neck. The hungry look in his eyes as he feasts on your sight, your hand in his as you waltz across the research-ridden floor. Emotionally, he makes several comments, some so well worded it eve takes you a minute to distinguish. Most of the time, he lets you drone on. When you two have nothing to say, sitting in silence progressing with your own tasks are just as pleasurable. 

Your relationship is knitted with close layers of empathy. Knowing each other’s past, the similarities of your pains, mutual respect. But the differences were what pulled you together. Your status as the Servant of Death, carrying souls to their demise, bringing objects to their inevitable end, Beelzebub with his curse and his unyielding personality. Yet all the peculiarities that others find bizarre, even grotesque, earned a pedestal to celebrate 

End notes: sorry kinda got sick of this but was too far in to change it. Mid-way i realise that none of this is related whatsoever to the ragnarok, anon im so sorry.

If you want me to make another that has ragnarok in it ill probably do it. ❤️

© thewanderingkaya 2025, please do not copy, credit any of my work, or reupload or translate to other platforms.

[mosaickiwi]

Fall Unto Me

Meant to post this before Halloween except it got reaaaally long so I split it up. 🙈 It works as a standalone, though. I'll put the other parts up at some point hehe.

Actual!Angel and Devil!Ren AU (yoinked from da discord bot once again) One visit to earth turns into eternity. 1.4k words + GN reader

cw// religious themes

14 Days With You is an 18+ Yandere Visual Novel. MINORS DNI

With pearly white wings and a halo of gold, you were a disciple in heaven’s endless library. Duty bound to organize records and histories of paradise and its worlds below. Though you’d never looked within those records, just being in their presence gave you curiosity about your god’s creations all the same.

Once every hundred or so years in your infinite lifespan, you sought to venture into the human realm before returning to your celestial duty. It was an odd request to your peers. None were as interested in mortals as you so each visit was a lonely affair. You never stayed more than an hour or two, merely observing how they had changed from a favored seat in the clouds above, lest someone spotted you. It was only meant to be a short trip as always. This time something felt different.

In the quaint seaside town you were fond of visiting, you'd sensed a devil and dared to investigate. Of course, you'd never met one, so you had no idea what that uneasy feeling even was until your feet touched the ground for the very first time.

The devil seemed to be asleep in a field of blossoms, butterflies fluttering about. Spring was always in full bloom when you descended to earth. Pastel pink hair blended with the flowers, only making the black horns atop his head and the symbols scrawled along his arms stand out even more.

You approached with caution and curiosity. Though they were meant to be your sworn enemy, heaven's few rumors about devils already appeared untrue. The fauna and flora around him weren't withered and rotting, but full of life. He didn't smell of burning flesh, nor was he covered head to toe in the blood of his victims. If anything, his form seemed almost angelic.

He opened his eyes as you came closer, and their sky blue color welcomed you further. "Ah, could I be dreaming? Or has an angel come to rescind my eternal punishment?" he spoke wryly. 

"Nay, devil. I want no trouble from you," you said in response, caught off guard by his casual, relaxed greeting. You took a few fearful steps away when he rose to lean back on his hands.

"Hmm... You have some holy divination or blessing to bestow upon this land, I assume. I've no intention of interfering." He smiled up at you, and those angelic features seemed even more prominent. Were it not for the pointed tail swishing with vigor behind him, you'd think this devil was one of your own.

"There's no mission I've been given," you explained with a shake of your head, "I'm only here to observe my god's world for a few moments, out of my own curiosity."

"Fascinating. I've never known angels to take interest in mortal affairs before their passing. Then, if no duty calls for thee—" he stopped to pluck a white bud that hadn't quite fully bloomed from the sea around him. "Might you grace me with your divine visage for one moment longer, little angel? I've called earth my home for millennia—and damnation is dreadfully boring. I could help with those curiosities, if you so desire." He held the bud out to you as an offering.

Though his words sounded sincere, you felt unsure. “...Do you take me to be so naive? I know your kind favor trickery.”

“I only offer my companionship,” he gave an innocent shrug. That heavenly smile was still fixed on you.

Your eyes darted between his outstretched hand and his face. Eventually, you took the flower from him. You could sense no ill intent on their part, so it wouldn't hurt to stay a little while. Nonetheless, you’d do your best to stay on guard.

~

The sun dipped lower in the sky as you lost track of time. Ren, you learned, knew far more of humans than you ever imagined. Your interest in them grew with each story he told of the world. At his urging, you'd gone to the beach to wander up close among them. It was a bit of a struggle to prepare—you'd never been told that your wings could retract or your halo could be hidden. But he coached you through it, not so much as flinching at the sting of divine power when you accidentally hit his arm with a wing on the first try. For a devil, he was oddly knowledgeable of things beyond his damned realm.

“You said your visits were always over in the late morning. So you haven’t seen this time of day, have you?” he asked as you both walked along the shore, waves glittering in gentle reds and pinks you’d never known the sun to make.

“I haven’t seen this terrain either.” Even with the occasional pausing stares of young children and animals—the only beings who could see your true form, as they were without sin—you were thrilled at the new experiences you were having. Your footsteps painted the sand rather unevenly compared to his. It was impossible to get used to the sinking feeling, nor the coarse sand getting into your sandals. You laughed at the sensation. “Heaven is all clouds and gardens. Here… it’s so different. The sun shines differently. But it’s still just as beautiful.”

He took your hand in his to keep you steady, pulling you towards the water’s edge. They were all too comfortable with the action, but you didn't spare it a thought. The guard you were meant to keep up had been thrown aside long ago. “I’m honored to show you such new experiences. And I only hope to give you more.” Ren’s face was bathed in a heavenly glow as he guided you into the water. 

It was a stark contrast. The once warm sand turned to a bracing cold, almost slimy texture as the water slowly rose up to your waist. You raised your other hand up high to avoid it, still clutching the late blooming bud he’d picked for you.

The pink-haired devil brought you to a stop and nodded out at the setting sun with an unreadable look, “I’m sure you won’t be able to take your eyes away from it. I couldn’t, my first time seeing the sun disappear.” At his suggestion you turned your head to watch, barely aware of the way their tail wrapped around your hips to keep you close.

It was captivating as the sun began to fall further beyond the horizon, the hues of the day gradually shifting both in the sky and sea before your eyes. Golds, reds, pinks, and purples all chased after the light, leaving behind a blue as cold as the water felt. In what seemed like an instant, it was over too soon—not a trace left of the glorious sun that never set back in the heavens you called home. Strangely enough, your body tensed with heavy feelings. As if you were saying goodbye to a part of you. You stood staring out at the graying ocean for a long while, until the cold water lapping against your skin felt no different from the air.

“How was it?” he gently broke the silence. You felt his hand move to rest over your own, cradling the flower still between your fingers. The heat of his touch guided you to meet his gaze.

“Breathtaking, I think,” you whispered with a frown as you looked up at him. “And a bit sad? All that warmth disappeared—I’m not sure how to feel.”

“Breathtaking as the sun is, you’ll find on earth that some flowers show their true beauty without its watchful eye, my little angel,” he said to reassure you. The bud in your shared grasp opened slowly at his words, its tapered white petals unfurling to reveal pale lavender edges as the sky darkened further. His fingers traced behind your ear before he tucked the flower among the strands of your hair, seeming to admire it. “You’d never have known if you’d only stayed those few moments.”

You searched his eyes as his hand lingered at your cheek. Just as when you first met, there was no malice in their voice. A devil who appreciated your god’s work felt unheard of. From Ren's intense gaze he looked as if he revered them. He must've been a kindred soul—or the equivalent of a soul in demons. You wanted to know more about him as well, not just mortals. 

Their fangs gleamed in the faint moonlight when you quietly asked, “What else can you show me?”

[eliza-and-her-monsters]

Limerance

🌸 Characters: Rin Shinonome x reader

🌸 Summary: rin shinonome was never known to get flustered or shy around pretty girls. essentially running a joint coffee shop and record store with her best friend tae it had always been easy for her. that is until she meets you… a regular who’s been coming in since the fall, that she has yet to have the courage to ask out.

🌸 Contains: kn8 au, rin having an adoptive little sister that’s intended to be kikoru <3 maybe some light liiiiiight angst (because you know me 😞) but mainly just your usual tooth rotting fluff 💕

🌸 WC: 4.2k

🌸written for @pixelcafe-network’s challenge friday!!🌸

On the vast majority of her work days, Rin tended to keep her eyes on the clock. Though unlike most people it wasn’t because she wanted to go home. In fact she actually didn’t mind her job, a record store mixed in with a coffee shop. A dream gig for her even though she didn’t really care for coffee. They could even be rare sights, definitely getting their fair share of tourism throughout the popular seasons (they’d probably start to be swamped in the next coming weeks).

What she was looking for though was not a rare sight. In fact it was the most supremely stunning yet common sight in the entire world. The same short girl who never went anywhere without her headphones, backpack, and clad in whatever sweater she had decided to wear that day who trailed in at the same time a few days a week. Always following the same path along the courtyard park outside, but lingering just a little bit longer during the spring time. You hadn’t been coming long enough for Rin to have seen you during cherry blossom season in the past years. However she couldn’t help but feel like the sight of you trailing amongst them was the most beautiful and natural thing she had seen in a while.

“Okay, seriously… she’s been coming here since the fall. If you don’t ask her out soon I’m going to start telling her she has a stalker.” Her pink-haired coworker, Tae, teased from next to her as she leaned her elbows against the counter with a smirk tugging on her lips.

“I’m not stalking, I’m just- people watching.” Rin murmured as she twirled a short piece of hair around her finger, catching an anxious bottom lip in between her teeth.

To be entirely fair, Rin didn’t exactly know what was wrong with her. On all levels she never acted like this, she never had to. Whether she was behind the counter at work or tossing back shots at her usual gay bar that she frequented on the weekends, people had no problems with throwing themselves at her. She could turn mascs into flushing schoolboys and leave femmes giggling at a joke that was on all accounts supremely mid with their hands resting right on her tattooed forearm, tracing the shapes of the inked cherry blossoms. The only person she wanted tracing those darkened flowers now though was the girl that was slowly getting closer towards the shop by the minute.

It wasn’t like you didn’t know each other, you had came to the shop enough that you were virtually acquaintances at that point. You knew each other’s names, Rin just didn’t always prefer to call you by your name. You had each other’s social media, which absolutely could’ve been her way in a long time ago. But she was trying to be a gentleman, but also mostly because she was a chicken shit.

“Man, I don’t get this.” Tae huffed with a roll of her eyes as she stalked over towards one of the espresso machines. “You don’t act like this over girls, Rin, you’re a fucking lady killer. A heartbreaker. And now you meet one sweet femme that makes your heart beat just a little bit faster and you suddenly forget how to talk?”

“You would understand too if you finally exited your hoe phase!” Rin exclaimed as she sent a sharp elbow into her ribs, just in time to hear the bell above the front door ringing.

“Incoming.” Tae spoke in a quiet sing song voice just as a small chuckle sounded from behind her causing Rin to whip around with bright red cheeks.

“Oh? Should I come back later so you guys can make up and make out?” You questioned with another snicker as you removed the earbuds just in time to catch in to the conversation.

“Oh! Hey, sprout! Not at all… in fact, I was just about to go on my break so you guys can talk all the shit you want.” Tae exclaimed with that same mischievous grin, almost wanting to shoot her taller coworker a wink before making her way around the counter with a skip in her step.

“But that’s not-” Rin almost pleaded as she darted her head in Tae’s direction with widened eyes.

But she was only greeted with the chime of the bell above the door once more as she echoed a quick, “Bye!”

“I’m ummm, I-I’m so sorry for my idiot of a best friend.” Rin felt the heat on her cheeks as she cleared her throat almost anxiously. “So… your hot or cold usual?”

“I think I’ll go with cold today actually, cherry chai for cherry blossoms.” You grinned as you brandished one of the pink flowers in between your two fingers. Rin’s breath immediately hitched in her throat the moment she felt you slipping it into the side pocket of her t-shirt. Completely unable to keep her cheeks from turning the same shade of the tiny flower.

“You breaking the law just to bring me flowers?” Rin caught herself chuckling, this time turning her into the flushing schoolgirl as she whirled around to start preparing the drink. A little smirk spread on her face however as she watched you bring a finger up to your lips to shush her.

“You’ve turned me into a delinquent.” You chuckled before reaching for the crossbody purse slung around your shoulder.

“Hey, unless you’re pulling out more flowers then you better put that away. Your money’s no good here, you know that.” Rin lightly scolded causing your eyes to roll almost playfully as you trailed along the counter as if to follow her.

“You’ve gotta stop doing that or else Narumi’s gonna end up getting on your ass.” You giggled, clasping your hands behind your back as you let your eyes scan the wall of records like you always did. Even if you rarely bought any, it was like you were looking almost longingly.

“Please- Narumi barely knows what’s going on anyways… feels like Tae and I basically run this place.” Rin explained with a little shrug as she briefly let her eyes sweep over towards your shorter figure as you curiously let your fingers run across the top edges of the vinyl, before picking up one of the somewhat newer albums that had came out last year. Rin’s hands were practically shaking as she felt her heart rate pick up just at the slightest movements, the simple notion of you two having another talking point. And maybe even getting slightly closer to Rin asking you what she probably should’ve a long time ago. “Ummm, d-did you like that album by the way? I-I mean I’m assuming you did because you picked it up but- sorry.” She flushed in pure embarrassment with a shake of her head at her own awkwardness. “I’m mega socially inept so… y-you can just ignore me. I-I won’t bother you if you don’t want me to.”

She made it towards the other side of the counter, almost cursing herself for being so self deprecating. Because she wasn’t like this. She wasn’t awkward, or socially inept… but whenever it came down to you that all went out the window. “No, I like hearing you talk.” You murmured with a softened expression as you placed a soft hand against her forearm the moment Rin passed the drink across the counter. “I’ve been, well, looking for an excuse to get to talk to you.”

“R-Really?” Rin nearly choked at the feeling of your warm hand on her skin, the gentle back and forth of your thumb running along her wrist. All the while praying you couldn’t feel the way her pulse had picked up or the trail of goosebumps that only followed the moment you pulled it away. “I- fuck, I probably looked like a supreme asshole.” She added with a nervous laugh as she tucked a strand of her dark hair behind her ear, and even wondering what it would feel like if your hands were the one in her hair instead.

“I-I mean, honestly I was just starting to think you didn’t like me.” The heat finally crept up into your face, hoping the probably overblown laughs would cover up a vast majority of her own anxiety.

“No! Oh my gosh… no no no no no! I- I really like you. Honestly I do- th-that was probably truthfully the reason why I was so scared to talk to you.” God, Rin’s cheeks were probably matching the shade of the cherry syrup in the chai latte she had just made.

“You?? Afraid to talk to me? If anything I think it should be the other way around.” You snickered, swearing you could almost feel your hand subconsciously reaching for Rin’s. But maybe you were pushing, you weren’t exactly sure what was too fast or what wasn’t enough.

“I’m not that scary.” Rin murmured with a playful eye roll, and finally for a moment she felt like she was getting the smooth side of herself back. Cautiously she lifted a hand to gently brush back a strand of your hair until it was tucked securely behind your ear. “You don’t have a boyfriend or girlfriend, do you, sprout?” She spoke, tracing a delicate thumb under a cheek that was still very much flushed.

“I mean, if I did do you think I’d be standing here very… subtly trying to flirt with you?” Your breath almost ran out at the statement, even though you were starting to feel like you were able to act relatively chill around her at this point. Her cyan eyes didn’t feel nearly as piercing, her voice didn’t feel like it was trying to ingrain itself into your brain, the briefest brush of your fingers as she passed off your usual order didn’t feel as heart shuddering as it did the first few times. Yet still, even as you let your own fingers trail along the length of her forearm, you could almost catch a faint tremor in your hand.

“Doesn’t hurt to check, I certainly don’t wanna step on any toes.” Rin chuckled a bit before she could catch your teasing hand in her own, drawing the lightest brush of her thumb along your knuckles. “Listen I…” Her cheeks glowed as she caught herself slipping into the same nervous state she was before, all the while trying to stabilize her voice the best she could. “I get off at 5:30… i-if you maybe wanted to meet me in the park- right across from the shop, with the cherry blossoms. And we could maybe do something that doesn’t just involve me making your coffee? I-It’s okay if you’re busy but I just thought that maybe we could-”

“No… n-no- I- I mean, no as in I’m not busy.” The words flew out of your mouth much too fast leaving you to stammer out your actual answer. “And- I-I would love to. Even if your coffee is pretty bomb.” You chuckled before finally scooping up the iced cherry chai and bringing it to your lips.

“Well, I never said I was gonna stop making your coffee, baby, I just said I was gonna stop making you pay for it.” She teased with a light wink that nearly had your heart skidding to a stop. Yep, suave Rin was back, hopefully to stay.

🌸🌸🌸🌸

You ended up finding yourself back at the same bench just along the edge of the park standing adjacent to the coffee shop a solid 20 minutes early. You wrung her hands in your lap as you watched the rapid bounce of your knee, and for a moment you nearly considered the possibility that you had hallucinated the entire interaction. There was no possibility whatsoever that your dream person had actually finally asked you out on a… something?? Was it a date? Or was she just simply looking for someone to hang out with? Either one couldn’t be bad, right?

Even despite how early you had shown up, a single nervous part of you almost considered the possibility that she wouldn’t even show up.

However, Rin ended up being early. At 5:20 her taller figure was making its way down the pathway towards the park bench, a tiny smile tugging on her face the moment her eyes landed on you. “You didn’t stand me up.” You remarked through a chuckle as you shoved yourself up to your feet with that same incessant pink flush from before blooming on your cheeks.

“You thought I was gonna stand you up?” Rin snickered a bit to herself, as she lifted a brow in mock offense. “Damn, who do you take me for? A fuckboy?”

Your breath hitched right in your throat the moment you finally felt her warm hands sliding around your waist. And it felt like the first official touch in so many different ways. The first touch without there being a frustrating counter between the two (even though that wasn’t entirely true, you had definitely ran into her stocking the record shelves and what not before), but it was the most intimate one if anything, and Rin wasn’t wasting any time with pulling you close.

“Is this okay?” She murmured the moment she felt your shaking hands pressing against either side of her chest, not knowing if it was your way of pushing away or getting closer. For a split second, just on instinct, you weren’t even sure either. Touch-adverse, touch-starved, whatever people wanted to call it you were it. Rin had always felt like a safe person though, somehow, you didn’t have an explanation just yet but she had been.

“Yeah… this is- great actually.” You spoke through a heavy sigh of relief as you let her arms fully pull you in. Her body pressing to yours just as your hands trailed up towards her shoulders and you lifted yourself onto your tiptoes to wrap your arms around her neck. “I finally get to hug you.” You chuckled in a voice muffled somewhere in the crook of Rin’s neck.

“Wait… hold on.” She spoke causing your eyebrows to furrow as she gently grasped onto either side of your waist and carefully pulled you back down to your normal height, just before you could frown though she was already pulling you in once more, right into her chest. “There, that’s better.”

Your laugh was quiet, eyes fluttering shut as the soft smile remained on your lips. Your ear now pressed right against her chest, right over top of her heart where you could feel the softest thump underneath. It was an odd feeling, going so long without human touch and then suddenly feeling like you were experiencing the most intimate one in your entire life. It was an overwhelming feeling too. One that had a million different thoughts and emotions swirling up to the surface as you could only feel your fingers curling tighter into her shirt.

You weren’t even sure how far you were willing to get into it, if at all. The reason why one simple hug was causing your eyes to suddenly well up, and the most accurate reason you decided to run to the same coffee shop nearly every day for comfort. Rin didn’t push it though. Even whenever she felt your breathing growing shaky or your grip tightening around her. She just simply slid her fingers through your hair and held you to her chest as long as you needed to stay there.

“You still with me, baby?” She murmured after a while, pulling away though still keeping her hands against both of your cheeks. Her eyes almost looked like light sapphires with the way they peered down at you, hopeful and soft.

“Yeah.” You finally spoke after a moment to catch your breath, “I’m okay.”

“Good.” Rin let the corners of her lips upturn in a small smile before extending out an elbow immediately causing your cheeks to flare with heat. “May I? I know a place.”

“Such a gentleman.” You chuckled as you curled your arm into the crook of her elbow where she offered.

“You’ll never meet a bigger gentleman than a lesbian.” She teased with a chuckle as she started off down the pathway, loose cherry blossoms raining down on the two of you almost giving everything a cinematic feel. “Have you eaten yet?” She wondered as she stole a look down at your shorter figure.

“Oh, not yet… but it’s okay if you have, you don’t have to-”

“Actually- I usually use the kitchen of the shop to make myself dinner before I leave and today… well, what do you know? I ended up making double.” She began with a little smirk and glanced at the small backpack strapped to her back.

“Oh? No way, you wouldn’t have done that on purpose or anything, would you?” You chuckled with a little grin of your own as you let your other hand slide around her bicep, all the while trying not to think of how the muscle felt underneath it either.

“What? No way, I just like to be prepared in case I run into a pretty girl that hasn’t eaten yet and I can maybe rescue her.” She teased, pulling you in closer with the smallest tug to brush her lips over top of your head, and if there was ever a time you wanted to hide your face from the growing flush it was now. “You’re not vegan, are you?”

“What would you do if I was?”

“Cry and start cussing probably.” She said casually with a shrug just before you could give her a playful swat.

“Well, don’t worry because I’m not vegan, or too picky whenever a pretty girl is cooking for me either.” It was a subtle flirt, one you weren’t exactly used to doing either but Rin’s little smile seemed to prove it did its job.

It was a comfortable walk, exchanging different questions and bantering while you held onto Rin’s arm the entire time- and she let you too. She lead the both of you towards the small river that stretched along the back of the park, one you knew was there but had never really gone out of your way to seek out. The small stone steps now decorated in pink petals leading down towards the swinging bench that seemed to be a hidden gem. Empty, just private enough, and while you were sure it had housed a ton of couples before you couldn’t help but feel like it was there specifically for the two of you.

“Rin, this is- h-how did you-?” You stammered once more, eyes widening as she offered a hand to lead you down the stairs. It almost seemed stereotypical to say it looked like something out of a fairytale or a romance movie. But it really did. It was hard not to feel that way.

“Don’t worry, I didn’t find it because I took someone else on a date here or anything. I mean it’s hardly sacred but… it could be, if you wanted it to.” Her fingers slid between your own as she peered out at the reflections within the water, only interrupted by the little flowing pieces of pink flowers floating downwards.

“I wouldn’t exactly mind, I could probably use a sacred place for once. Not that it’s always this pretty and pink but… still.”

“I can assure you, it’s pretty all year round.” Rin chuckled as she slid a cautious arm around your waist to lead you towards the bench, all the while she was still so careful to keep her hands at bay, careful to not cross any boundaries even if secretly you wouldn’t minded if she did. The two of you could always do that later though, for now things were nice like this.

The two of you took your seats on the swing, already feeling it start to naturally rock back and forth slowly as Rin pulled out the to-go container holding her concoction, two expertly rolled wraps with a side of kettle cooked chips for the both of them. “The chicken is spicy, fyi, if you can’t handle spice though then that might actually be a dealbreaker.”

“Uhhh, I can handle spice, have a little faith in me.” You shot back in mock offense as she passed one of the wraps over.

“Alright, I’ll trust you for now then. Let me know if I passed the cooking test though whenever you take a bite.” She remarked, catching a bottom lip in between her teeth with a slightly nervous yet hopeful expression as you unrolled the paper wrapping.

With one bite though a little close-lipped smile tugged on your lips in response. She had had no idea what kind of food you even preferred, whether you were a picky eater or not or anything like that, yet she had nailed it all the same. “You definitely passed.” You remarked with a chuckle as you nodded.

“Hell yeah, Rin! You still got it!” She exclaimed with praise to herself as she held up her own hand to give herself a high-five causing you to burst into giggles through a playful little eye roll.

“See, this is one of the reasons why I think I’m attracted to you, I feel like you’re secretly a dork.” You teased before settling back in the swing, still sat as close to her as you possibly could be.

“What’re the other reasons?” Rin smirked in curiosity.

“I don’t know, are there other reasons?” You wondered, sitting forward with a lifted eyebrow, and this time it was Rin’s turn to be offended as she dropped her jaw in response.

“Excuse you? Do you want me to take that wrap away? And then never give you one of my wraps again?”

“No! No no, I’m sorry, I was just playing!” You exclaimed as you quickly wrapped your legs around Rin’s as if to pull yourself closer even though you were just short of being on her lap. All the while you let your eyes widen and stuck your bottom lip out the slightest bit in a pout. Classic puppy dog eyes.

“That’s what I thought.” She said matter-of-factly as she gave your nose a little poke. “That’s not gonna work on me, by the way. I have an adoptive little sister who’s very good at that but I’m immune.”

You didn’t even say anything, you didn’t need to as you furrowed your eyebrows just the slightest bit more before propping your chin up on her shoulder. “Still not working…” She added in a sing song voice, all you did was push closer though, snuggling into her shoulder and slipping your arms around her bicep which only caused her to roll her eyes and scoff.

“Alright, I’ll play. I can make you weak too.” Rin remarked before suddenly sliding her hand towards your waist to slip around the curve of your back. Immediately your breath hitched in your throat as she pulled you right into her with ease, quickly grabbing the food to sit aside so the two of you wouldn’t knock it over.

“R-Rin-” You stammered, sudden nerves creeping up the back of your neck as you placed a shaking hand balled up against her chest. And just in time you felt her finger brushing underneath your chin and tilting it upwards.

“Darling?” She seemed to whisper in a slightly lower voice, smooth enough to nearly have a sea of goosebumps blooming along your skin once more. Her eyes were so icy, but you had barely noticed the level of softness they seemed to have, the tinge of green that surrounded the irises. All enough to make you shiver.

Rin seemed to catch on to your shift however, the amusement in your gaze deflating to appear almost like you were in a trance. All the while your own eyes flickered subconsciously towards her lips. “Do you-” she flushed with a clear of her throat, trying to keep her words stable. “Do you want me to kiss you?”

“Do… Do you wanna kiss me?” You murmured, hand still unraveling as you kept it pressed against her chest, like you wanted to track every breath, every heartbeat.

“Yeah.” The answer seemed to come out in a heavy gust of air as she was out of breath. “Yeah, I really fucking do.”

The both of you seemed to move at the same time, closing the gap between your lips with gasps freezing in your throats. Rin’s breathing was heavy as she practically wanted to hoist you right on top of her but was refraining, at least for now. Your movements still felt so desperate though, hand nearly clawing its way up to her shoulder as your body seemed to curve right into hers.

The tiniest moan caught in your throat the moment you felt her arm squeezing around your waist, letting the kiss deepen, slowly but hungry all at the same time. Her tongue only slightly mixing in with your own causing you to practically collapse at the sensations spreading through your body all at once. Oh Gods, if this is what you had been waiting over six months for it was so so worth it.

Your breathing was heavy by the time the two of you finally came up for air, even though you wouldn’t have minded being suffocated by her. Her forehead pressed to yours as she cracked the smallest smirk. “You still with me, sprout?” She questioned almost breathlessly as she gently pushed your hair out of your face.

You gulped a heavy lump down your throat with a nod as you let a shaky hand slide around the width of her shoulders. “Yeah… but I- I’m gonna need you to do that again though. And… often actually. I-If that’s okay.”

Rin let out another chuckle underneath her breath before letting her fingers curl into your hair ever so slightly, “Yeah baby, I think that’s more than okay.”

🌸 Credits: cherry blossom dividers by @saradika-graphics and image from pinterest 💕

🌸 ty to sam so much for this prompt!! i had so much fun writing it and challenging myself! 😊 🌸

[builtbybrokenbells]

belladonna | iii (pt. 1)

too beautiful to resist, and too deadly to survive; the tragic tale of belladonna in all its glory.

masterlist | taglist

Pairing: Danny Wagner x f!reader, f!reader x OC

Word Count: 15k

Warnings: mentions of toxic/abusive parents, mentions of/toxic relationships, mentions of criminal activity/criminal records, poverty, mentions of homelessness, mentions of physical violence, mentions of blood, mentions of AA/NA, NA meetings, heavy descriptions of addictions, use of/mentions of drugs, mentions of relapsing, mentions of OD, mentions of drinking, flirting, mentions of hookups/sex, smoking, depression/anxiety, mental health struggles, swearing, sorry if I miss any!!

here’s part one of two! lots of heavy stuff in this part and some more character background, but we do get to see some romance begin to blossom. im excited to share, but even more excited for you guys to read the next part. thanks for being amazing, i love you guys 🤍

April 22, 2022

The morning was violent, so much so that it managed to pull you from a slumber fit for the dead. As you rolled over on your couch, your journal tumbled from your stomach and landed on the floor with a thump that echoed through the entire room. The large panel windows with rotted sills glistened under the blazing sunlight, too bright and warm for you to withstand. You squeezed your eyes shut again to block out the rays, but instead of blackness, the usual void seemed red with the light beaming directly on your face. You withdrew a long breath, rubbing your face in your hands to pull yourself out of the claws of exhaustion. After a moment, you managed to invigorate yourself enough to sit up straight, but it came with ample consequences.

Your body ached so desperately that it felt like your bones had twisted and morphed into something new, and your throat scratched with dryness every time you tried to swallow. Your head pounded with every breath and only ever worsened as you moved. There was a kink in your neck that you could not massage out if you tried, and your stomach was twisted with upset. You woke up the same every morning, like you were still in active addiction and your body was craving the substance with a fervor. It was a phantom pain that passed not long after you started your day, but while it existed, it was incredibly difficult to get through. No matter how long you had been sober for, you awoke every morning with the incessant urge to fall back into old habits.

That specific morning it seemed so much worse than others, and you feared that if you had even the slightest lapse in willpower, you would end up on the bathroom floor submitting to an entity so sinister that it would ruin your life all over again.

So, instead of taking the risk, you checked your phone to see what time it was. When the white letters splayed ten o’clock, you knew you could rush to the old AA hall they had donated to the druggies when the state funded a new building and catch the morning meeting. If you were lucky enough, you could make it in time to grab one or two of the stale muffins from the day prior and save some money on groceries. You noticed the pen that had once sat atop the journal (that had once sat atop you) had fallen onto the torn cushions of the couch and was now stabbing into your side. With a huff of frustration, you tossed it to the floor, where it struck the old vinyl tile and rocketed under one of the other pieces of furniture.

You stood, feeling woozy from the illness plaguing you and seemingly eating away at your insides. With a vow to ignore it, you trudged to the bathroom to comb your hair and brush your teeth. The intense mint from the toothpaste was aggravating your already sick stomach, and you fought back a gag as you struggled through the basic task. You washed your face, hoping the cold water would distract you, but the sting of the frigid liquid on your tired skin only annoyed you further. In a poor mood, you forced yourself through the rest of your routine and ran to your bedroom. You changed into a pair of jeans that once belonged to your oldest brother, and a sweater that belonged to your youngest brother. To top it off, you threw on a fleece lined plaid jacket to keep out the harsh wind, noticing yet another rip in the already worn out fabric.

You grabbed your pack of cigarettes from the counter on the way out the door, tying your boots in the hallway after deciding that tripping over laces would be the (theoretical) straw that broke the camel's back. You broke out into the bitter air, the smell of city smog filling your lungs and the nip of morning frost biting at your cheeks. You shoved your headphones into your ear, pressing play on a playlist that had been ringing through your living room all night long. With a brief check over your shoulder, you hopped to the other side of the street and began walking down the winding side road in hopes of finding a Hail Mary.

After a seemingly treacherous journey, you trudged up the wooden steps that were nearly rotten all the way through. You clasped your fingers around the large metal handle and pulled the oak door open, the creaks echoing through the barren entryway. You stepped inside, your mind still swimming with relentless thoughts and your cheeks blushed with chill. You slipped your headphones into the pocket of your hoodie and moved further inside, surveying the room before going any further. The old building was once a church, and when it was abandoned, the state took it over and rebranded it for Alcoholics Anonymous meetings. Back then, it went hand in hand with the motto, as most that turned vile due to their addictions believed themselves to be devout Christian’s. Some believed it was blasphemous to use such a building for people who had disgraced the name of god, and others thought it to be perfectly fitting. Either way, God did not have a hand in what happened in the building, nor was he worthy of credit for the recovery of the people.

When the government decided AA was worthy of a better building, they still failed to recognize addicts as people deserving of recovery (or help, even), and left the old building for anyone to do as they pleased with. For a little while, it was home to a small family of homeless people, and only once the city grew sick of them did they decide an NA program was worthwhile. State ‘funded’ and utterly disappointing, they held meetings twice a day that were led by a single member of the mental health board (and not even an addictions expert, at that) and were mostly self-guided. As much as the program lacked, you still found it comforting to sort through your issues with fellow addicts who also fucked up their lives beyond repair. That, and it was the only intervention that was consistently accessible, and free.

You hated knowing that your recovery was based off a paycheck, and that bettering yourself as a person was dependent upon affordability, yet you knew this to be reality. Treatment programs were expensive, and the only one you had ever been to had left you with a debt you would never shake off your shoulders. From then, you knew you had to be in charge of your recovery, and that started with improving your willpower to stay sober. You could not afford anything more than self-help journals, and with every backslide, you understood that medical bills were piling higher and higher. Sobriety was the only option, because if not, poverty was the punishment. Unfortunately, poverty was a breeding ground for mental illness (which you already suffered enough of), and mental illness was a slippery slope that lead you straight back to square one.

Complaining about NA would not get you any further ahead, so you often had to swallow your distaste and appreciate it for what it was. At least there was some type of intervention, even if it was lousy. Without it, you would have nothing but yourself, and you had come to realize that was one thing you could not solely rely on, as you were a nothing shy of a trained professional in bad decisions and fucking up.

You noticed the circle of fold out chairs, half filled with zombie-like shapes that only passed as people on a good day. Today, as it seemed, was not a good day. Most of the attendees were forced to be there by parole regulations, and others only came for a warm place to sit for an hour. Some, like yourself, wanted help, but most cared about the free food more. As you approached the group, you made a stop at the table with the coffee canister and expired creamer, pouring yourself two cups to sip away at while you spilled your guts. Thankfully, there were plenty of muffins left, and when nobody was looking, you managed to slip a few in your large pockets (which was the exact reason you wore that specific jacket).

As you took a seat, you surveyed for any familiar faces. There was an older women, frail looking with mousy blonde hair and sad eyes. Her name was Carol, and she was the most frequent attendee of all of the meetings. Even so, you knew her to be a woman who was sober, but nowhere near recovered. She’d been through the twelve step program a hundred times, yet never seemed to harness all that she’d learned. She was tired, sorrowful and a little timid, yet had a fiery side that matched the devil. She often talked about her mistakes like they were small blips, yet did not seem to comprehend that even if they were unavoidable, they had consequences that were detrimental to her and her family. More specifically, it affected her children, in which she mentioned their no-contact order at least once a meeting.

You felt bad for her, but not enough to extend a helping hand. She was a great example of ‘reap what you sow’ and she reminded you too much of your own mother to ignore it. Every time you began to feel some shred of sympathy, you would think of her four kids who suffered at the hands of her own lack of self control. She knew nothing about accountability, and was in so much denial that she was blaming the no contact order on the children who filed it, rather than the woman who caused it. She would never recover unless she understood the implications of her actions, and that she caused all that happened, even if she felt powerless at the time. She could abstain from using drugs until her last breath, yet she would never escape the addict mentality.

The coordinator, Liam, was by the windows organizing his meeting checklist. He hadn’t noticed you yet, but you were certain that when he did, a smart comment would be casted in your direction. He was in his mid-thirties, and he wasn’t the worst person in the world to share a piece of your soul with. If anything, over the months of going to meetings, you had actually grown quite fond of him. He was a trained mental health professional, and even if his specialty was not addiction, he still cared enough to dedicate his time to helping others. You were certain that he was not paid well for his two hours a day, and he was working it atop his other job. There was a part of him that loved the charity, and as a true councillor should, cared about helping people more than anything else.

As you sipped at your coffee, Liam approached the group with his head still nestled in his clipboard. As more people trudged in, he looked up to smile as they situated themselves, and that’s when his eyes landed on you. There was a sparkle of something you could not place your finger on, and it made you bite back a laugh. He stepped in your direction, tapping his pen against the cork material of the board as he thought of a snarky remark. “You lose your calendar?” He asked, raising an eyebrow. “It’s not Wednesday.”

“No, it’s not. Astute observation, smartass.” You replied, smirking at him. The one good thing about NA was him, and the fact that you felt like you could be yourself around him. He was not a bible thumper, nor was he a hardass; he was a person who knew struggle, taking time to help other people with their struggle. He understood that you were a barely-adult who dealt with your pain with humour, especially after watching you interact with Dylan and Vincent, and he used it to his advantage. Every now and again, he had to crack the whip to ensure you weren’t using humour to deflect, but most of the time, he agreed that it was a good coping mechanism.

“You just missed me so much, huh?” He sighed, tapping the end of his pen against the board, now. It send a dull yet steady sound through the immediate air, and it was the equivalent to nails on a chalkboard for your already migraine-ridden brain.

“Hardly,” you muttered, taking another long gulp of coffee while hoping it would ease the pain in your skull. “Figured if I had to choose between you and the detox box, I’d pick you.”

“Smart choice.” He complimented. “Where’s your company?”

“You really think they’d come to a non-mandated meeting? Are you insane?”

“Some would say so.” He shrugged. “Proud of you for choosing sobriety, y/n.”

“Oh, fuck off with your sentimental bullshit.” You grumbled, but couldn’t deny the tugging of your heartstrings. If there was one thing you loved, it was being told that someone was proud of you. Of course, you were never willing to show your appreciation for the fact, but you definitely held the words close. “You better get started before Carol starts crying or Joey falls asleep.” You said, nodding your head in the direction of the two sitting side by side. Joey seemed as if he was nodding off, and Carol was already weepy-eyed.

“Right, it’s about that time.” He sighed, nodding curtly. “Alright, everyone! Come grab a seat so we can get started!” His voice echoed through the mostly empty room, bouncing off the walls peeling of their paint. The large windows sent flutters of golden light through the room, illuminating the specs of dust in the air. When you looked above the pointed window tops, you could see the shadow of a cross that remained stained to the wallpaper even long after it was removed. The grime of the building ensured that the memory would remain indefinitely. As Liam walked towards his chair at the head of the circle, the small heels of his dress shoes clacked against the rickety floorboards. When he sat, the legs of the plastic foldout chair scraped against the already scuffed panels. It was underwhelming in its entirety, yet you found it oddly comforting.

As the bodies pooled into the chairs, leaving ample spaces between themselves as they sat down, you crossed your legs and pulled the frumpy jacket closer to your body. The building was drafty, shifting and groaning under every strong gust of wind and threatening to give out under the pressure. You picked at the threads of loose skin around your fingernails, awaiting Liam’s routine meeting opener.

“Good morning, everyone.” He spoke, his voice echoing throughout the whole room. He was cheerful, but not overly, and he was excited to get his part over with so he could sit back and observe. “As some of you know, Friday’s are completely open discussion days, just the same as Monday. If this isn’t your cup of tea and you’d like to check out the speaker meetings where I guide you through the steps of recovery, you can stop by from Tuesday to Thursday. I’m here at the same time every day, 11am and 2pm, so if you require another session outside of your normal attendance schedule, you know where to find me.” There were a few mutters of agreement from the crowd, but most of them had their eyes on the clock, waiting for the hour to finish despite it only just getting started.

“Are there any newcomers in the crowd today?” The question was mandated, even if he already knew the answer. He recognized you all from the minute you stepped in; the whole crowd was familiar with each other now. “Right, okay.” He nodded, jotting something down on his clipboard. “As always, remember that if you run into any issues outside of the normal meeting times, we always implore you to give a call to the friends you’ve made here. There’s a list of numbers available by the door for anyone who has volunteered to be a sponsor. Remember—“

“Dial it, don’t file it.” The whole group chanted back to him before he could speak. The mantra was drilled so deeply into your brain that you were sure you muttered it in your sleep. He gave a tight lipped smile, understanding the redundancy of his words.

Open speaker meetings were your favorite. You did not find much solace in Liam droning on for a half an hour, as his personal experience with addiction was nonexistent. It was a comfort to tell your story and have it touch others, and it was nice when you could hear the struggles of other people. It made you feel less alone, and it felt less clinical. When Liam took up an hour of your time, yapping away about resilience and self awareness, it was difficult not to fall asleep in your chair. You chose Wednesday’s as your regular days when you learned it was Vincent and Dylan’s scheduled day, but not for many other reasons. Sometimes, it was nice to hear advice and encouragement, but in the long run, it did not hold much value to you. You opted to go to plenty of meetings outside of your normal time, just so you could get all of the benefits of it.

“Remember to stick around after the meeting so we can hand out chips or tags, whichever you prefer. If you brought your white chip with you today, we can upgrade you to silver.” He gave a smile, as if handing in a surrender token was a victory and a 24-hour token was a milestone. You were certain that everyone around you had a million silver and white tokens littered across their homes, yet it never seemed to stick. You knew that for you, at least, a silver token was a punch in the gut rather than a pat on the back. “So, if there’s no questions, we can get started.” He said, surveying the crowd for a raised hand or an interested eye. When he was met with nothing, he gave a slow nod, crossing his legs and taking in a long breath. “Would anyone like to start us off?”

The silence was so abundant that you could hear the honking of horns from the road. You waited for the chirp of crickets, but you knew that the building was filled with too much asbestos to house any living creature, insects included. Spiders on the other hand had seemed to grow resilience when it came to the toxicity of the environment, which only made them superhuman in comparison to their former self. You could see a few dangling from cobwebs in the corners of the room.

“I’ll go,” you said, speaking up only when the silence grew unbearable. “If nobody else wants to, I can start.”

“Sure,” Liam nodded, smiling at your willingness to proceed. “Whenever you’re comfortable.”

You took a moment to gather your thoughts, making yourself wonder why you had actually shown up on that solemn Friday morning. What had been so troublesome that you rushed out your front door the minute you woke up so you could attend a meeting?

That was a loaded question, one that likely had a million answers, but you settled on the thoughts that felt most pressing to you.

“I often hear the same sentiment when I talk about my addictions. I get the same sad smiles and sympathetic eyes, the ones that tell me that I’m more fucked up then even I can comprehend. I can see the refrain in their faces, like they want to run and hide. I get that it’s hard to understand something when you’ve never experienced it, but sometimes it makes me wonder how it’s so easy to dehumanize people who’ve gone through or are currently facing struggle.” You didn’t stop speaking for a reaction, but rather to gather your many thoughts before speaking them aloud. It seemed as though you were in more of a talking mood than you previously thought, because now that you had begun, you felt no inclination to stop.

“When someone grieves, we do not go out of our way to alienate them from us. When someone gets in an accident, we parade around with bouquets of flowers and well wishes. When alcoholics drink themselves to the point of no return, we put them on a transplant list for a new liver and hand out brochures on how to live a sober life. Why is it when someone learns that I’m an addict, I am denounced to nothing but a thief and a criminal? What makes my struggle different? What makes me less worthy of help?” You posed the question to the crowd, not expecting a real answer. “All of the aforementioned reasons are worthy of sympathy and compassion, but it makes me question why my struggle is not. Why, even when I walk into an Alcoholics Anonymous hall and speak my troubles aloud, they look at me as if I’m evil, as if their addiction is better than mine? The superiority complex of an addict who deems their addiction more digestible than my own makes my skin crawl, yet I see it every day.”

“I’ve been an addict since I was born, even if I didn’t touch drugs until I was a teenager. The addiction was engraved in my brain since conception—no matter active or not, I will always have the symptoms of the disease. It was shown to me first by my father, who was willing to abandon his three children in search of a high. I learned the rest of it from my mother, who was the highest functioning alcoholic I have ever met.” You paused, forcing your thoughts away from the face of your mother, which only ever seem to enrage you.

“When I was three, I was addicted to apple juice. I used to scream and cry and kick my feet until I was red in the face and my lungs started to ache. As soon as they placed that Disney Princess sippy-cup in my hands, it was like they shot me with a fucking tranquilizer dart. Two hours later, it started all over again. When I was seven, it was marshmallows. When I was eleven, it was that stupid fucking ‘Peggle’ game on my brothers Xbox. When I turned thirteen, I drank alcohol with my best friend for the first time. We stole it from her parents' liquor cabinet and drank so much we threw up for two whole days.” You explained, leaning forward in your chair and looking towards the floor.

“Even as I spilled my guts over that toilet and spent forty eight hours in misery, I knew that apple juice had nothing on alcohol, and it had given me more satisfaction than anything ever had. On my fifteenth birthday, all of my friends were out of town, so I thought I’d have my own fun at home alone, and hopefully drown out the sound of my mother terrorizing my brothers in the living room.” You explained, giving an empty smile. “I looked through my mothers pill cabinet, pulling out bottles and typing names into my phone to find out what it would do for me. I went back to my bedroom with three little white pills in my hand, locking the door behind me and sealing my fate for the rest of eternity.” You took in a long breath, closing your eyes for a moment. “That night, I discovered that OxyContin was far more effective than ‘Peggle’, and from there, I became the worst version of myself.” You heard a few hums of agreement around the room, unable to look up at the sad eyes staring at you. You knew that they hated seeing someone so young face the evil fangs of opiates, but no matter if they were sympathetic or not, you were still hurting over it just the same. Silence became you and you were unsure if talking was making it better, or hurting you more.

“My point is,” you continued, feeling your courage begin to return. “I didn’t wake up on my fifteenth birthday and decide to be an addict. I didn’t decide to be an addict every time I used after that, because it was never a choice. If you have bipolar disorder, it was in your brain long before you ever showed symptoms. If you have cancer, half of your insides are rotten before they catch it. I had an addiction long before I ever touched drugs, and I’ll have an addiction until the day I die. It does not make me lesser than anyone else, and it doesn’t make me a bad person. I had shit luck and poor genes, and I’ll suffer for the rest of my life, but my suffering does not make me a bad person, and it does not make me any different than another person walking down those streets. I’m not inherently evil because of it; I’m just someone who’s made mistakes, trying to atone for them. I’m still that little girl crying for apple juice, or that pre-teen begging my brother to play a game. The only difference is, I’ve had a taste of something far more powerful and much more lethal. I’m tired of being painted the villain, because it was the substance that turned me bad. I hurt people, and I hurt myself, but every day I wake up and choose to be different. It does not take away from what I have already done, but it does change to who I will be. That is the difference between a good person and a bad person, not the demons they’re fighting against.”

“I’m an addict, and I know I will be an addict until the day I die. I was born that way, but I made the conscious decision to use, and I will be stuck repenting for that until my last breath. I can’t sit before you and tell you I regret my decisions, because those were some of the best days of my life. I don’t regret it, even if it was a mistake. It was the best thing I have ever felt. I wake up every day still craving the high, wondering if it’s easier to just give in and let go. I spend every waking minute chasing that feeling, and even if I know I can never have it again, it doesn’t mean I don’t want it. It’s a constant struggle, a reminder of my own mistakes that I’m still trying to run away from, and it’s torture. At the same time, I came here today because I’ve been stuck wondering if it’s possible to change, to not be this person anymore.”

“I want to be good, to love life without being dependent on substance, but I worry that it’s not possible. I want to breathe without restraint, and I want to live without chains constantly holding me down. When I think about how hard it is to stay sober, I try to remember how hard it is to be an addict, and sometimes not even that can scare me away. I want to go back to the days where ‘Peggle’ and marshmallows could make me feel the same way. I’m trying to be something I’m not, and I’m afraid it’s not ever possible to be what I want. Will I be seventy years old and happy that I stayed sober, or will I be in that rocking chair looking back at my life, surrounded by grandchildren yet still remembering what it felt like to swallow that pill? Worse than that, I worry that seventy will never be in my hands, and I’ll die of the sickness before I can ever see it.” You paused, realizing that you were taking up far too much time. You blinked hard, bringing yourself back to reality and settling back in your chair. You looked to the water stained ceilings with tears pricking your dry eyes, wondering how the hell you got yourself here.

“Sobriety has been my best friend and my worst enemy, and I came here today because it’s my enemy. I know what I need to do, but today just it doesn’t seem possible. For now, I’m here. Tomorrow, I’ll wake up and try again, because that’s all I can do. When it feels impossible, I just keep telling myself that it’s for the best. I'm no stranger to starting from zero, so what the hell is one more try, right?” A slow round of applause echoed around the room. You fought back an eye roll, knowing that all that you had said was not worthy of a celebration. It was a ugly thing, a eulogy to your former self, and sobriety had never been something you were proud of. It was a struggle, and it was something you could never seem to commit to. Trying again was your area of expertise because of how good you were at fucking up, and you did not feel right celebrating a temporary victory while the hardest battle was still looming just overhead.

“I can speak for everyone when I say that we’re incredibly happy that you decided to come here today.” Liam said, sending you a smile from across the circle. You forced one back, unable to hold his gaze for very long. “You’re not starting over again, y/n, you’re just starting to try harder.”

“Right,” you nodded, tracing the scarred stick-and-poke tattoo that was already fading away from the back of your hand. It did not feel like you were trying harder. If anything, it felt like you were closer to giving up.

If you had a shred of self awareness, you would have been able to see that because of that fact alone, you were trying harder than you ever had.

As Liam opened the floor for another poor soul, you thought over all you had said in your confessional. You wondered why you were feeling all of those things so strongly, and why they seemed to be worse today even in comparison to the days you spent sweating and shaking on a bathroom floor. Then, you remembered Vincent’s harsh words thrown your way the night prior, feeling yourself ache from the memory as if he was standing in front of you saying it all over again.

Vincent was your best friend, the one constant you had since packing your entire life up and moving across the country. He knew everything about you, held you at your worst and shared the happiest days. You cared so deeply about him, and definitely in a way stronger than friends, but you so badly wished you didn’t. Him knowing you so well made it easy for him to hurt you, and despite all the good he had and could still do, he consistently proved to you that he did not want to do good by you. He knew you so well, but it was the very reason why he had so much power to hurt you. Vincent wanted to love, but he did not know how. His feelings were fragile just as well as his ego, and he did not understand a thing about change. He was stuck in his way, never willing to see a different side of things, and because of that, it drove the two of you apart. The night prior, when he’d been so crude and unapologetic about his feelings about you and Danny, he wanted to hurt you in the same way he was hurting.

Lucky for him, he did just that, and even more so. He wanted to hurt, and hurt he did. It was so bad that you found yourself seeking comfort from strangers in an NA hall. It was so bad that it made you want to turn to drugs to take the ache away.

What he said stuck with you, and not just because he was the one who said it. Of course it hurt that he would say such terrible things to you, but you had grown used to Vincent taking his anger out on you in the form of harsh words and insults. Most of the time, you could brush it off after a while of sulking, but it hung over your head because you were terrified he was right. You liked Danny for many reasons, one being that he was nothing like Vincent. That being said, he was also nothing like you.

He did not know what it was like growing up with parents like yours, nor what it was like to spend most of his adolescence in and out of rehabilitation programs and therapy. He did not understand what it felt like to be at the police department, filing yet another missing persons report for his father, or better yet, getting detained for a night but unable to be held due to age. He did not know what it was like to run away from home every other weekend because sleeping under a park bench seemed more appealing than sharing a space with his mother. More than anything, he did not understand what it was like for drugs to take precedence over every other thing in his life. You certainly didn’t take him as such, and you were sure that by now, you would have seen some inkling that he was like you. You wanted to find anything that could relate to your tragic life, but there was nothing.

You looked back on all of your conversations, wondering if maybe you missed something he said, but it all aligned perfectly with Vincent’s venomous words. He played golf, specifically with his dad, he was traveling the world with his best friends to find ‘inspiration’ without needing to find a part time job in every city, and he confided in you once on a Sunday evening that he missed his mom.

Danny did not know what life was like for you, nor would he ever, even if he tried. Your struggle was completely foreign to him, and although he seemed like someone with a big heart and the desire to understand and sympathize with everyone he came across, you feared that once he knew all of you, he would run with no intention of ever coming back. You couldn’t blame him, because your baggage was too heavy for even yourself at times, but you would be lying if you said it didn’t hurt. It was a terrible feeling to have, knowing that no matter how much you like someone, you can never be completely transparent and honest with them about yourself. You would never expect him to accept the tragedies that accompanied you, and you felt foolish for thinking that you could have a relationship with someone so normal while you were so far from it.

You wanted him to be the one to take you away from such things, but you feared the tragedy ran so deep that you would be the one to bring him down with you.

Of course Vincent would be the one to point out your flaws and ruin a good thing before it happened.

Then again, you could not blame him, because you were equally as good at fucking things up.

You liked Danny too much to cut him off entirely, so you decided to continue on with the texting and calling, and even the laughing until 4am and the harmless flirting. You would cut it off when the time was right, just so you didn’t fall too hard for him. You knew it was best, because he was too good to get caught up in you. He was someone you could have fun with, to distract you while you built yourself back up. He would leave eventually anyway, and you would never have to think about it again. Your skies were much too dark for a rainbow, and now that you were thinking of it, you weren’t sure they had ever seen anything as bright as him. This way, you could enjoy him for the time being, but you wouldn’t get your heart broken when he decided you were too much for him. It was a win-win for both of you.

Even if you chose to believe such things, you failed to see that you had already gotten your heart broken at the idea of being too broken. Your current situation made you believe all of the previous notions even more deeply, because you had not even faced rejection at Danny’s hands and you were already sitting in a talk circle listening to people drone on about their love of smack and resentment towards their family for keeping them away from it. You were fragile enough that you’d hurt your own feelings with feeble ideas and assumptions, and you were so weak that it nearly killed your ambition to stay sober. Most of all, you were selfish for wanting to subject Danny to such things at all.

That was one habit you could not kick when you got sober; you were a selfish being who loved to feel good, and now that you could not get high, you had to search for thrills elsewhere. Danny made you feel good, and so good that you could not fathom giving that up even if it was better for everyone to do so.

The meeting wrapped up later than usual, mostly due to Carol’s inconsolable crying as she blubbered on about her youngest daughter's wedding and how her invitation got ‘lost in the mail’. You bit your tongue, knowing that correcting her assumptions about the situation would do no good and would only get you a scolding from Liam (and those were the worst). You made sure your phone and your cigarettes were in your pocket before standing, feeling the muffins bounce against your leg. As if on cue, your stomach growled at the memory of the double chocolate treat that was wrapped in plastic, awaiting your attention. Liam instructed everyone to stop by before they left, to which only some of the attendees obliged to. Despite your growing stomach and desire to leave, you complied with the request and approached him before making your departure.

You were the first in line to speak with him, but it did not come as a surprise; usually you were the only one willing to see him once the hour was up. He still had his clipboard in his hand, his pen hovering over the paper as he searched for your name and crossed it off. “You’ve got a thing for apple juice,” he noted, looking up over the frames of his (seemingly expensive) glasses.

“What?” You chuckled, curious as to what he meant.

“You talk about apple juice at every meeting. Is that code for something else, or do you really just like it that much?” Now, you laughed, finding his inquiry less invasive and much more amusing.

“Not code,” you shook your head, the smile lingering on your lips. “I just really like it. When I was a kid, it was the only type of juice my mom would let me drink. Guess it reminds me of easier times, or maybe I still wish apple juice was the only addiction I had to worry about. I don’t really drink it anymore because I worry that I’m trading a drug addiction for an apple juice addiction. In my head, neither are good.” You theorized, looking towards the ground for a moment.

“I see,” he chuckled, reaching over and grabbing his bag and pulling out a red key tag. He handed it to you, smiling at the sight. “Three months as of tomorrow. I feel like I can trust you enough to give it to you a day early. Some motivation to get through the weekend.”

“Right,” you nodded, forcing a smile as you reached for it. “Maybe it would mean more if it was my first time.” You couldn’t help but feel some resentment at the sight. It was your second time getting a red key tag, and it lost all of its novelty once you had to give up the blue tag that signified six months. You almost had your hands on a yellow one, but you fell just shy of nine months after one particularly reckless night at the Pony. You’d had an arrangement of surrender and thirty day markers, but they were less catastrophic to lose when you started over again. Knowing you had nearly a year under your belt just to throw it all away made you sick to your stomach.

“You have to celebrate the little victories, y/n. You can’t always feel like you’re failing, because you’ll never have any motivation to get better.” He said, giving you a stern look.

“But it doesn’t really get better, Liam. It doesn’t matter if I have three months or three years, I’ll still be an addict and I’ll still want it just the same.” You shifted uncomfortably on your feet. “Recovery is just a bandage to keep yourself together. The longer this goes on, the more I feel like I’ll actually be seventy and still feel this way.”

“It’s easier to see when you’re further away from it. Right now, it’s all you know, but that doesn’t mean it will always be all that you know. Life grows around you, but you have to choose if you want to grow with it, or get lost in it.” He explained. You took the tag, shoving it in your pocket. You knew he was right, but it was easier to feel miserable than it was to be hopeful. It felt better when misery was proven wrong rather than when hopefulness was crushed. “You’re doing better than you think. You have three months under your belt. It doesn’t matter that it’s for a second time, it matters that you did it. Some people don’t even get there once.”

“I know.” You cleared your throat, fighting the tears rising in your throat. “Thanks, Liam. I’ll see you next week.” You said, finally looking to meet his eyes.

“Hold on,” he said, reaching back into his bag. You watched for a moment, wondering what he was searching for. Then, after a moment of uncomfortable silence, he pulled out a bottle from his bag. You looked to the ceiling, feeling your face burn and tears rush to your eyes. “I brought it for lunch, but now I think I brought it for a much different reason. You need it more than I do.”

“Liam, I can’t take that.” You shook your head, still looking at the peeling paint at the top of the walls.

“I insist.” He said, using a tone of finality. After a few seconds, you took a deep breath and looked towards him once again. Once you saw the certainty in his eyes, you reached out and took the bottle of apple juice from him with gratitude written all over your face. “Sometimes things are just as simple as apple juice, y/n, not the big complicated mess that you try and turn everything into. It’s not a metaphor, and you’re not trading apples for oranges. It’s a bottle of juice that’s going to make you feel better, and it’s something that won’t hurt you unless you make it into something bigger. You can enjoy it and not have to feel bad about it, just like you’re allowed to fuck up and still believe that you can do better.” He explained, giving you a smile. “You’re in control, whether that means getting high or drinking juice. You decide whether you should or not. Today, you decided to come here instead of getting high, and right now, you’re deciding to drink juice. You’re capable of doing better and being better, because you already have. Don’t convince yourself otherwise.”

“Your right,” You took in a long breath, closing your eyes to regain yourself. “Thank you, Liam.”

“No need for thanks.” He brushed you off, straightening up in his seat. “You have a number to call if you need it this weekend, right?”

“I do.”

“And you’ll use it?” He raised an eyebrow.

“I will.” You nodded. He did too, happy with your answer.

“Okay. I’ll see you next week.” He gave you permission to leave, happy that he seemed to have helped. You were a tough nut to crack, between your raging self-destructive attitude and your inability to see the positive side of things, but he was happy to be the one to finally make the difference.

You walked out the front door (sipping on apple juice, thanks to Liam), finding that the air had warmed since you had gone inside. The sun was brighter and the wind was less intense, making your spirits brighten as it gave you a promise of summer. You reached into your pocket to grab a cigarette, finding your chest had loosened from its earlier tension and your migraine begin to subside. As you pulled out your pack, you grumbled at the lightness of it. When you flipped the top open, revealing one last cigarette (upside down for luck, of course), you closed your eyes as you tried not to let the disappointment consume you. You wondered if you had enough money to buy another, hating yourself and the world for having to choose between paying rent or buying the only thing that was keeping you sane.

As you reached for your phone to check your account balance, the screen lit up to show the time. It was already well past twelve thirty, yet that wasn’t the thing that caught your attention. Below the bold numbers was a missed call, which was followed by an incoming text only a few moments later.

“Fuck!” You exploded, uncaring of the passerby’s giving you strange looks.

The addiction had been so pertinent that it allowed you to forget about your anticipated plans with the incredibly cute and sweet boy you couldn’t stop thinking about.

You dialed the number back, pressing the phone to your ear. Within seconds he answered, his cheery tone warming your heart immediately. “Utah! I was wondering when I’d hear from you. Was worried you forgot about me.”

“I’m so sorry Danny,” you sighed, looking around at the people passing you by. “I, uh… I had an appointment I forgot about.”

“That’s okay. How long are you gonna be? Or do you just want to call it off and reschedule?” His understanding was astounding, but it did not make you feel better; it was gut wrenching, and it made it so much harder to keep your heart out of things. Danny seemed fun, sure, but he also seemed like someone you could easily fall in love with. You were playing very a dangerous game.

“No, I’m all good now.” You promised. “If you still want to hang, of course.” The morning has thrown you so violently off course that you were doubting everything, including his interest in your despite him being the one who called first.

“F’course I do.” He chuckled. “I called, didn’t I?”

“Yeah,” you forced a chuckle, having to agree with him.

“You okay, Utah?” He asked, now seeming a bit concerned. “You don’t sound like yourself.”

“Oh, yeah. I’m fine.” You assured him. “Was just a rough morning is all, I’m okay now.”

“Hopefully I can make the rest of the day better, then.” He replied, sympathizing with your rough start to the day. He had no idea, but hearing his voice alone had already brightened your spirits. “We’re just driving around. We’re near the Fox if you want me to pick you up, or we can meet somewhere if that’s easier for you.”

“If I send you an address, you think you can find it?” You smirked, knowing he was in unfamiliar territory. You remembered how disoriented you felt when you first came to New York, wondering if he felt the same, or if he was one of those people who didn’t worry about anything at all.

“I’m sure the two of us could figure it out.”

“Whatever you say, Michigan.” You grinned. “See you in a few.”

“Can’t wait.” He said, sincerity laced within his tone.

With that, you ended the call and proceeded to check your bank account, happy to see you had more than you thought. You looked around, checking for cars before jumping off the front porch of the old church and crossing the street. As you cut through an old alleyway, you texted Danny the name of the gas station you were headed to, knowing you would be there before him. There was no way in hell you were going to let him pick you up from an NA hall on your first ‘date’.

Of course, you had little hope that it would be a real date at all, nor did you think that any date like activities would ensue afterwards. They were probably just looking for something to pass the time, and you served as a great tour guide.

As you walked through an old parking lot after the alley, you could already see the old sign for the store. You waited to cross the busy street, and when you saw a break in traffic, you sprinted to the other side. By doing so, it seemed like you instantly left the rough part of the neighbourhood. Fancy cars drove by and women in expensive clothes walked in and out of the convenience store. All the same, you felt immediately out of place.

Tired and still not feeling the best, you tossed the empty apple juice bottle in the garbage, pushing through the door and walking inside. It was moderately busy, but not enough to be bothersome to you. Before running to the register to grab a pack of cigarettes, you walked towards the back of the store where the candy aisle was located. Without much effort, you found the biggest bag of Warheads sour candy that you could see. After that, you turned towards the drink coolers and grabbed the cheapest energy drink. Satisfied with your choices, you walked to the register and placed the items on the counter. The older lady who was working gave you a long look, studying you as she rang in the items.

“Pack of reds?” She asked, already reaching towards the cabinet before you answered.

“How’d you know?” You chuckled, knowing that every few days you came in for the exact same thing.

“Think you’re the only one who buys these.” She said, looking over the bag of sour candy. “Have no idea how you can stand eating them.” She chuckled, watching as you tapped your card against the reader.

“They’re not half bad.” You smiled, waving her off as she tried to hand you the receipt. In truth, you didn’t love them. You had grown to tolerate most sour foods as it was an easy way to curb the craving for the things you could not have. The sourness was a shock, immediately distracting you from the relentless thoughts, and the sugar gave a nice dopamine rush that made you feel better for a few moments. You repeated the process until your tongue was in too much pain to have another, and by then, you were over the worst of the craving. “Have a good day!” You called over your shoulder as you walked out the door, not hanging around for long enough to hear an answer.

As the door shut behind you, you grabbed the last cigarette from your pack and struck the lighter. As the flame ignited the tip, you heard a commotion off to the side of the store where the bulk of the parking lot was. You turned, curious about the sound, but you were not stuck wondering about it for very long. As you focused your eyes under the blazing sun, your gaze fixated on a Jeep, but it was not the vehicle that kept your attention. Instead, it was the curly haired boy hanging his head out the window with a blinding smile on his lips. You could not help but smile back as he waved you over, uncaring about hiding his excitement to see you.

“Long time no see, Utah.” He greeted you as you walked within earshot. “Told you I could find my way around New York.”

“Seems like it.” You chuckled, taking a drag from your cigarette. Without any further comment, he opened the car door and stepped outside with you. “I’m glad you found me. Saves me from sending a search party out for you.”

“You really had such little faith in me?” He raised an eyebrow, his sunglasses sadly blocking your view of his pretty brown eyes.

“It doesn’t matter anyway, ‘cause you proved me wrong.” You grinned, already feeling the hurt in your chest begin to subside. When you were in his company, it was hard to feel sad about anything. He was so easygoing and excited about life that it was difficult to feel any differently than him. Then, he reached forward and pulled you into a hug, which made your stomach twist and your heart flutter. What would normally be an awkward moment, felt nothing like it. It was comfortable, it was safe, and it was right. You wrapped your arm around him, making sure to keep your cigarette away from his expensive looking jacket so you did not burn it.

The small gesture made all of your fears obsolete; he wanted to be with you, to hang out and waste the day with you. He was disappointed at the idea of cancelling plans, and overjoyed at the prospect of seeing you. He was genuine, and he was nothing like Vincent was trying to portray him as. You didn’t have to feel stupid for liking him so much in such a short time, because he felt the same way.

“I’m glad we didn’t have to cancel, Utah. Been looking forward to seeing you all morning.”

“Me, too.” You breathed. “I’m sorry I forgot about the appointment. Promise I wasn’t trying to blow you off.” You explained, still trying to hold on to the lingering scent of his cologne as he let go.

“No worries, I’m just glad you’re okay. And I’m glad you didn’t change your mind.” He confessed, a sheepish smile crossing his lips. “We still have a few hours before you have to get to work. I’m sure there’s lots we can do by then.”

“Yeah, for sure.” You nodded. “So what about this Sam guy I’ve been hearing all about? Is he imaginary?” You said, looking to the front seat to see nobody else in the car.

“That’s me,” You jumped in surprise when a head popped out from the backseat. A smiling face stuck between the two front seats let you know that Sam was in fact real. The tint on the windows allowed for him to stay concealed, but it did not answer any questions about why he was sitting in the backseat. Then, a second head popped out from between the seats, but this one was much cuter than the two boys combined. “And this is Rosie. Hope you like dogs.” Sam grinned, reaching up and wrapping an arm around her.

“Hi,” you laughed, unable to keep a straight face at the sight. “And I definitely do. No need to worry about that.”

“She is pretty, Daniel. You were right.” At that, your cheeks turned red, but not nearly as badly as Danny’s did.

“I should have left him at home.” Danny muttered, shaking his head at his friend.

“No worries,” you said, reaching out and landing a soft hand on his arm. “Good to know you think I’m pretty.”

“As if that wasn’t obvious enough.” He said, looking down at your hand on his arm for a moment, then back up at your face. The two of you shared a glance for a moment, wondering how it seemed so easy between you despite you barely knowing each other. You wanted more, to know him and to spend every afternoon making jokes and laughing. You wanted to kiss him, and you had since the very first time you laid eyes on him. He seemed like he wanted it too, yet the both of you remained frozen in place, neither one of you having enough courage to move first. “So, you have any ideas for what we can do today?” He changed the topic, too nervous to continue staring.

“Depends on what kind of day you want to have.” You said, only mildly disappointed at the change of subject. You knew that kissing him right now in that moment was not the wisest idea, especially with his best friend observing the both of you so closely. Plus, you feared that if you leaned forward and captured him in a kiss, you would only be doing so in hopes of covering up all of the misery from the morning. If you were to kiss him, you wanted to be certain it was for the right reason. “There’s a park not too far from here. It’s a super nice spot, not too many people go. I’m sure Rosie would love it.” You said, motioning to the dog that was clinging to Sam’s side. “Or there’s a few shops a few streets over. I think they’re all pet friendly. I see lots of people in an out of there with loads of different pets.”

“We can do both if you want.” Danny offered, looking inside the vehicle momentarily to see if Sam was in agreement.

“Okay,” you nodded, taking the last drag from your cigarette and tossing the butt into a nearby puddle. The snow was long gone now, replaced with rain as dampness lingered on the ground to remind you of the winter. You were excited for warmer weather, and the sun in the sky seemed to be promising of a nice day.

“Hop in, Utah.” Danny nodded his head towards his car, but quickly second guessed his choice. He took a step in your direction, but walked past you and to the other side of the car, opening the passenger door for you. You followed after him, sheepishly climbing into the vehicle after muttering a small thanks. Within seconds, he was back in the drivers side, smiling over at you. “You just tell me where to go and I’ll drive.” As he spoke, Rose seemed to be fighting with Sam to try and get to the front seat, intrigued at your presence and excited to get to know you.

You sat the bag of candy down beside your leg on the seat, then placed the energy drink in the empty cup holder. You slid your lighter in your pocket and shifted around to get a better look at the dog that seemed so eager to greet you. “Hi, baby.” You reached out cautiously, not wanting to scare her. She sniffed your hands for a moment, which quickly turned to licking, then she shoved her head into your hands so you would pet her. As you scratched behind her ear, Sam seemed to be laughing at the two of you.

“She likes you… We’re gonna have to keep you around.” Sam deducted, his hand still resting on her back. You noticed he was holding the back of her harness, ensuring she wouldn’t proceed any further than she already had.

“I guess so.” You chuckled.

“Is that… breakfast?” Danny asked, stifling a laugh as he looked down at the bag of candy and the beverage you had purchased. He’d been trying to hold the question back, but it seemed too pressing to ignore. You looked down at the items he was referring to, feeling a small blush dust across your cheeks.

“So what if it is?” You shot back, trying to keep your tone light despite feeling defensive over the fact. He let out a chuckle, shaking his head at you for a moment. You reached down, tearing the bag open and grabbing one of the candies. You extended your arm towards him with a stupid smile on your lips. “Want one?” He watched you for a moment, trying to figure out if you were being serious. His gaze flickered to your hand and eventually, he reached out to grab it.

“Do you want something to eat? You know, other than caffeine and cigarettes?” He offered, a smirk stuck on his lips.

“No,” you shook your head, reaching into one of your large coat pockets. You pulled out one of the wrapped muffins, flashing him a smile. “That’s what this is for.”

“You really came prepared, then. I can appreciate that.” He laughed, not sure if he was willing to accept you having only a muffin for breakfast. Then again, he didn’t necessarily feel like it was his place to say anything, even if he wished he could.

“Yeah, you can say that.” You chuckled. “If you cut through the parking lot and go down that little side street,” you paused, pointing in the direction of the street that was just barely visible. “And you drive down the road for a while, there’s this cute little antique shop that I think is pretty cool.” You explained, sitting back in the comfortable seat. It was way better than the leather seats in Vincent’s old car, but you neglected that thought. You shouldn’t have been thinking about Vincent at all. Instead, your focus should be on the boy sitting across from you, the very one you stayed up until sunrise writing about in your journal. The same one you had been texting until you were too tired to respond, and the one who infiltrated your dreams and put a smile on your face even during sleep.

You did not know Danny very well, but you knew him well enough to know that since meeting him, the world seemed a little bit brighter. The rain was less dreary and not even the bitter wind could bring you down. You were excited to wake up, happy even to foot the phone bill that was usually paid with a twenty dollar bill, because the new price meant that Danny had not grown tired of talking to you. You wrote in your journal until your fingers felt like they would fall off, and you had a growing collection of notes scribbled on scrap paper left on the dirty tables at the Fox. He gave you something to look forward to, and he gave you something to smile about. When you finished talking to him, you were not plagued with guilt or worry like you often were when you spoke with Vincent. You did not know Danny well, but you wanted to, and you were determined to. You made a pact with yourself to know him as well as you could by the end of the day, because you never wanted to stop learning about him.

And Sam now, too. You could not forget about him and his big personality sitting behind you just out of sight.

“To the cute little antique shop, then.” Danny said, smiling as he reversed out of the parking space and drove in the direction you told him to. “So what makes this place so special?”

“What?” You chuckled, looking over at him.

“It’s gotta mean something to you if it’s the first place you thought of.”

‘Damn him and his observant self.’

“Yeah, I guess.” You nodded. “I go there a lot. Was one of the first places I found after I moved here. I bought a journal there my first day in the city, and I used it until there was no way I could fit anything else in it.” You explained. “They have lots of old paintings and household stuff, and a huge collection of records and books. They get most of their stuff from estate sales and the rest of it from people who were sick of looking at it.”

“Do you collect records or books?” He asked, curious about your hobbies other than writing.

“No,” you shook your head. “I have some books, but I write a lot more than I read, so I don’t really see a need to buy more than I’ll ever need. I love the records, and I would buy them if I had a record player. Been trying to save up for one, but it never seems to work out.” You smiled, looking over at him. It did not break your heart that you didn’t have a record player, mostly because it was a luxury, and you were used to never having anything luxurious. You were thankful for the roof over your head and food to eat, and unless those were taken away, complaining wasn’t something you were fond of.

“What records would you buy if you had a player?” Sam asked, piping in from the backseat. You took a moment to think about it, but eventually settled on the first ones that came to mind.

“Bringing It All Back Home by Bob Dylan,” you said, confident in your answer. “I remember my grandfather playing over and over again until my grandmother was so fed up she turned it off herself.” You chuckled. “Harvest by Neil Young, too. He was a big fan of that one.”

“Good choices.” Sam commented, surprised by your answer.

“Can’t Buy a Thrill!” You exploded, unsure how you could forget such a monumental album.

“Steely Dan?” Danny looked over at you from the drivers seat, intrigued by your enthusiasm. There was a smile still lingering on his lips as you looked over at him, the sight nearly taking your breath away.

“The first time I heard ‘Dirty Work’, it changed my whole life. My brothers got so sick of it that they would pay me to turn it off. They’re not the brightest though, cause I made at least a hundred bucks off of them.” Both boys got a good chuckle out of the thought.

“Noted,” Danny said, switching between watching you and the road. “How many brothers do you have?”

“Two,” you replied. “Both older. Patrick is 26 now, and he works for some fancy tech company back home. Hunter is 25 and works at a construction company.”

“Are you close with them?” He continued to ask questions in hopes that he could know you better than anyone else. Knowing you was his top priority, much like how you wanted to know him.

“Not as much since I moved away from home, but yeah. Even when we were kids, we did everything together.” You explained, not wanting to dive too deep into it. You were close not by choice, but out of necessity. Your family was so fundamentally fucked up that relying on your siblings was the only way to survive. “You said you had a sister, right? You mentioned her the other night when we were talking.” He nodded at your words, happy that you remembered the small detail. Little did he know, you clung to every word that left his mouth. “Just her, or do you have more siblings?”

“Just her, but Sam is close enough.”

“Do you have siblings, Sam?”

“Three of ‘em.” He chuckled.

“So you were never bored growing up, I take it.”

“Never.” He confirmed, giving you a smile from the backseat.

“The store’s just up here on the left,” you told Danny, glancing over at him. You couldn’t help but admire him for a moment, finding that the sun was shining on him in the most perfect way. It illuminated his already glowing cheeks, shadowed by the curls of his hair hanging over his shoulders. The sunglasses sat atop his nose, but with the sun shining on the dark lenses, you could see him looking over at you, too.

Danny pulled into an available parking space that you pointed out, looking around the streets as people walked by. Many had leashed dogs and coffee cups in their hands. The scarves wrapped around their necks made it seem like it was colder than it was, and so did the expensive coats. You always felt slightly out of place when you visited the shops. They were decorated with people screaming with wealth. Leather handbags and clothing that had never experienced a tear or a stain. You knew you were from the poor part of town, your apartment complex falling apart and homeless people littering the sidewalks and alleyways by your home. The corner stores and bars were in just as bad shape as the Fox, and the skyscrapers stopped tickling the skyline about a mile out from the section of the city you called home.

You didn’t mind it, but you did fear that the other two would if you brought them by your place. You were always conscious of what others thought, even if you knew you shouldn’t care. It was much easier said than done, and even if you believed you weren’t doing that bad, you were doing quite poorly in comparison to the majority of the population. The discounted rate on rent from subsidized housing was the only reason you could afford your shitty apartment, and even if you had made it into a home, it was far from flashy. The entire building looked like it would give way under a strong wind, and the inside was only slightly better. You covered most of the holes and peeling paint with art, but it only went so far. The appliances were older than you, and the landlord had aesthetically fixed all of the major issues, but it did not help the structural integrity.

You always felt out of place when you were in a store, no matter fancy or not. You feared your card would decline every time, and you wondered if the few items in your refrigerator and cupboards would last you until next payday if you purchased anything extra. Most people tried not to pass judgement when they realized your economic status, but you could see it in their eyes. It was pity more than anything else, but you would be lying if you said it did not bother you. It killed you to think that Danny would look inwards at your life and feel the same things, but you knew it was a possibility. Unfortunately, as much as you wished it wasn’t, not only was it always a possibility, but a reality.

“You ready?” Danny asked, breaking your focus from your internal brooding.

“Yeah, f’course.” You nodded, pushing a smile on your lips. You got out first, stepping on the sidewalk and turning to face the vehicle as you waited for the other two to join you. Danny stepped out first while Sam made sure Rose was leashed properly. Not long after, the other two were walking happily to accompany you. You looked at the door, smiling as you saw the little sticker with the silhouette of a dog encased in a big green circle. “See, Rosie?” You grinned, looking down at her. At the sound of her name, her tail began to wag as her tongue hung happily out of the side of her mouth. “Told you they’d let you in.”

With that, Danny stepped towards the door, letting his hand fall on the small of your back. The gentle touch was barely noticeable, yet it turned your whole world upside down. Your stomach erupted into butterflies and your heart sped, and you began to question your own sanity. A man had never before made you feel so strongly from such a small action, especially an innocent one. You all stepped inside, taken by the scent of old books and oil paint. The store smelled the same every time, and when you got closer to the register, you could notice essential oils and brewed coffee. It was a comforting feeling when you stepped inside, familiar as if you had lived a thousand lives inside that store alone.

“I’m gonna check out the paintings.” Sam said, his eyes immediately catching on the fancy frames and landscapes encased inside.

“Sam’s a bit of an art whore.” Danny mumbled, turning his head down to look at you. He was standing closer than usual, definitely closer than he would at the dinner, but you certainly weren’t complaining.

“Aren’t we all?” You challenged, wishing he would move closer.

“True,” he nodded. “If you don’t like art, you’ve gotta be a pretty disappointing person.” You let out a laugh, abrupt and loud at the harsh words coming from such a sweet mouth.

“Right.” You nodded, wondering if it was possible to live in the moment forever. It was so simple with his hand on your back and a laugh stuck between your teeth. The world didn’t seem so terrible, and unlike how life normally felt, the small world the two of you were existing within seemed right. There was no fear of the unknown, no guilt or shame, and it didn’t feel forced. You felt like you’d spent 23 years of your life faking it, but with him, the connection felt real and not based on any external factors. It was simple attraction and nothing further than the fact that the two of you got along well. “Come with me,” you whispered, nodding your head in the direction of your favourite room in the entire shop.

The building was quite similar to that of a townhouse, and if you had to guess, you imagined it once was. They allocated the different rooms for each genre of items they sold. There was a record room, a room for books, home decor, and clothes that looked to be made decades ago. The main area had the register and was plastered with paintings and posters all waiting for someone to take them home, and miscellaneous items were displayed on tables within various rooms. Most of the things inside the store were much too expensive for you to even imagine buying, but every now and again you stumbled across a tiny treasure that you could afford to bring home with you. Sometimes, they heavily discounted things when they were getting ready to bring in new items, so you knew to keep your eye out for any advertising signs.

When you passed through the doorway, Danny was still close behind. He took a few moments to look around the room, taking it all in. After a while of shared silence, he let out a long exhale. “Wow.” He stated, unwilling to leave your side despite being eager to look around.

“It’s great, right?” You chuckled, taking in the shelves full of vinyl records. “I knew a music guy like you would have to appreciate it.”

“Music guy…” he trailed off, looking down at you for a moment. “You remembered?”

“Obviously.” You gave him a soft smile. “Drums, guitar, little bit of mandolin if I remember correctly.”

“You do,” he breathed, a bit surprised at how well you remembered his late night rambling.

“F’course I do.” You reiterated your point, cementing the notion in his brain. Instead of dwelling, you guided him towards the shelves holding the baskets of records. Absentmindedly, you began flipping through the vinyls, hoping he would, too. When he finally took your lead and began his own search, you spoke again. “M’sorry again about earlier. I hope you didn’t think I was trying to ditch you.”

“I actually didn’t think that at all.” He chuckled, taking his time as he read over the name of every album. “I mean, maybe for like a minute, but I honestly thought you slept in a bit longer than usual. I didn’t want to call you—was worried I would wake you.” He pulled one sleeve out above the rest, taking an interest for a moment before putting it back. “You seemed really tired when we were talking on the phone last night.” You froze as his words hit you, suddenly remembering the sleep-laced conversation and nervous butterflies that plagued your entire body. You remembered mumbling sentiments while your wrist wrote out the deepest desires of your heart on paper. Then, you remembered falling asleep, but not a goodbye.

“Did I… did I fall asleep on the phone?” You asked, looking over at him. Redness began to creep up on your cheeks as you waited for an answer.

“Yeah,” he nodded, saying it as if the instance was completely normal. “Thought it was cute.” You bit down on the inside of your lip, praying that your face wasn’t giving away your feelings yet knowing it was. Then, the strangeness of the situation hit you and you could not hold back your inquiries.

“Speaking of… what the hell were you doing up at six in the morning?” You asked, turning the tables on him. He glanced over at you without turning his head, suspicious without even speaking. “Actually, you seem to be awake every morning when I get off work.” It was a question that crossed your mind more often than not, yet you never seemed to care to ask.

“Early riser.” He shrugged, hoping to avoid the topic entirely.

“Right…” you trailed off, less focused on the crumbling vinyl sleeves and more focused on the crimson of his cheeks. “See, that would be believable, but considering you were at the diner at one in the morning last night, I don’t think that’s the case.” You pressed further. “No way you’re so cheery for a man who only got four hours of sleep.”

“Okay, you caught me.” He sighed, pretending to be upset about your discovery. Truth was, he knew he would have to fess up sooner or later, and sooner seemed to be his only option. “I usually wake up for a little while to talk to you when you get home, and then I go back to sleep when you do.”

You were stunned at the thought, mostly because you could not comprehend someone wanting to talk to you so badly. The effort and thought that went into setting an alarm every morning at six was far beyond anything anyone else had ever done for you. You wanted to chastise him, but it was a bit too touching for you to make a joke out of it.

“You don’t have to do that, Danny.” You whispered, hoping he would look over at you so you could catch sight of the beautiful brown eyes you’d grown to love so much. “I love talking to you, but not if you’re losing sleep over it.”

“It’s not like I have anything else to do.” He dismissed you. “Besides, I want to. If I didn’t, I wouldn’t.”

For some strange reason, you wished he answered differently. Not because you wanted him to care less, but because you were terrified of him caring at all.

Everything you touched always seemed to turn to dust, and Danny was someone you could not fathom inflicting that fate upon.

“Unless you don’t want me to?” He said, taking your silence as something bad.

“No,” you shook your head. “No… I mean if you want to—if you’re okay with doing it, I definitely don’t mind.”

“Then it’s settled,” he hummed, switching to a different bin to search through. “They have some good stuff here.” He said, pulling out a blue coloured album. You glanced over, recognizing the sight immediately. A smile crossed your face as you watched him.

“Joni Mitchell.” You stated, craning your neck to get a better look.

“You know this album?” He asked, looking back at you over his shoulder.

“Yeah,” you scoffed, stepping towards him. “My grandpa might have liked Dylan, but my grandma loved Joni Mitchell.” You were right behind him now, close enough that you could have placed a hand on him had you been courageous enough.

“You talk about your grandparents a lot.” He noted. “You close with them?” He could hear your breath hitch in your throat as he finished speaking, wondering if maybe he never should have spoken at all. After a moment, you recovered enough to answer.

“I was, yeah.” You cleared your throat, covering up the strain of the words. “I spent most of my time there, actually. My grandma was my best friend, and my grandpa was a close second. He passed away when I was fifteen, and she passed away not long before I moved here. If they were still around, i probably never would have moved at all.” He turned towards you, letting the record slide back to its original place. His hand landed delicately on your hip, but in no way did it appear romantic. Even if your face was stony, he could see the pain plaguing your eyes.

“I’m sorry, Utah. I didn’t mean to bring that up for you.”

“It’s not your fault,” you shook your head. “I love talking about them, and I’m glad you asked.” You assured him. A small smile crossed his lips, stunned by your resilience to pain.

“I’d love to hear more about them, if you ever feel like talking.” His hand on your hip still remained, and the longer he touched you, the more comfortable it became. You never wanted him to stop. Suddenly, it all became a little too real for you. You blinked twice, bringing yourself back to reality as you turned back towards the record bins.

You wanted it, but you did not know how to let it happen. You were so good at making bad decisions that it seemed inherently bad to choose the right thing.

“Yeah, maybe.” You nodded, knowing that you never would. Then again, never is a strong word, and for some strange reason you had the impression that Danny was someone you could trust. Maybe someday, ‘never’ would turn out to be a distant memory.

You stepped towards another shelf, your eye catching a familiar cover. Carefully, you reached out, sliding it from the stack of records to get a better look. “Oh, wow.” You breathed, buzzing with excitement and nearly forgetting about the heavy conversation seconds before. “Look at this.” You said, catching Danny’s attention without breaking your stare from the vinyl.

He stepped up behind you, much closer than you were anticipating. Your back was nearly pressed against his chest and his hand lingered gently on your side. You knew he could see perfectly over your head; the height difference made it seem like he towered over you. He did so as an excuse to be close to you, and no other reason. You were okay with it, because for the few seconds you had stepped away from him, you’d already grown to miss the feeling.

“Bella Donna,” he said, studying the familiar sight. “Stevie Nicks fan?”

“Who isn’t?” You chuckled, turning it over to check the back of it. All of the records were secondhand, but it made them all the more special. Not only did they come with fantastic tracklists, but a story within every fraying edge and fading color. “She’s fantastic. She’s… everything.” Danny was silent for a moment, taking in your statement. When he finally answered, he wasn’t looking at the album, but rather at you.

“Yeah, she is.” The conviction in his tone made you pause your previous train of thought, turning to look at him as he gazed down upon you. It was evident that Stevie Nicks has long fled his train of thought. You didn’t have the courage to call him on it, so instead, you enjoyed the fleeting feeling of finally being important to someone. It was something you hadn’t felt in a long time, and even when you could remember a time when you did, it felt nothing like it did then. You were overwhelmed with the urge to kiss him, unable to comprehend how he seemed so perfect. Every word that left his mouth drew you in, every smile melted your heart, and every touch (albeit few and far between) took your breath away.

You were waiting for something to show, or to peek through the perfect exterior he’d put on for you. You longed for something to appear that could demolish the pedestal you had placed him upon, but it never seemed to come. You knew that with time, you were bound to find something that would taint your view of him, whether it be something major or a plethora of tiny things that steadily creeped up on you. Nobody could be without fault, and the fact that he’d gone so long without showing you any bad traits made you worry that when he did, it would be worse than anything you ever imagined.

Maybe that was your problem; you could not bear the thought of something going well for you, so you self-sabotaged by actively looking for something that would force you to run away.

Most of the time, there was nothing to find, and you were running from a monster created by your very own mind.

When you thought about it for too long, the more it seemed like running was the only thing you had ever known how to do.

You could not wrap your head around the idea of wanting to stay, but as Danny looked down at you with emotion stronger than lust in his eyes, you knew there was nothing else you would rather do. You wondered if running was always your first choice because nobody ever cared enough to give you a reason to stay. You’d known Danny for a short time, so short that he was nearly a stranger. You didn’t know his middle name, or his birthday, or even his favourite color. Despite that, you knew that the feeling of his company was something you’d searched for your entire life, and up until now, you’d only ever found it in one other thing. The difference was, you were confident in saying that the aftermath of Danny’s company was nothing like the aftermath of a good high. He seemed fulfilling, like his aura would surround you long after he left and the feeling in your heart would last even if he was not within reach.

If you weren’t so stubborn, you would have noticed that it had already affected you in such ways. When you stretched your wrist, it ached from all of the writing you had been doing in the early hours of the morning. When you woke that very morning with urges stronger than ever before, your first thought was to go to a meeting rather than submitting to the temptations of substance. You weren’t dreading waking up, nor were you struggling to sleep.

Danny did not fix your life for you, but he did make it easier to cope with. He could not fix problems he did not know existed, nor could he do so even if he knew your troubles. Instead, he allowed you to see a brighter side of life than what you’d grown so comfortable with. He helped you feel excitement for the next day and the possibilities it held. He gave you a person to talk to, making your nights much less lonely. He gave you the feeling of being wanted, and for nothing greater than the feeling of mutual want itself. He didn’t want to see you for ulterior motives, and he did not want anything more out of the interaction. He simply enjoyed your company, and it made you feel more human than you had since you were a child.

You’d been standing for so long in the same position that you feared you’d both turn to stone with your faces hovering inches apart. You did not want to suffer an eternity waiting to kiss, only for the moment to never come, but in that moment it appeared to be your destiny. He was leaned down slightly, and you were straining upwards, but there seemed to be a barrier between you two. The world was begging you to harness the courage to lean forward and close the gap, and as your noses brushed together, even the still-photograph of Stevie was pleading with you not to let cowardice win. Your heart was pounding in your ears, and your stomach was twisted in a knot that seemed to be suffocating you the longer you sat there.

He was so close, the scent of his cologne surrounding you once again, this time much more powerful than the last. You were angry that he wouldn’t make the move first, but appreciated his concern for your comfort. You’d fallen into the position so easily, as if it were natural for the two of you to be together in such a way. You could practically feel his lips on yours despite the distance still existing between you. Perhaps it was so easy to imagine because you wanted it so badly. He reached up, tucking your hair behind your ear before he cupped your cheek in his hand. The touch made your lungs burn, inherently causing you to forget how to breathe.

You had never felt so good. You had never felt so alive. You wondered, if his company felt so rewarding even after such a short period of time, what would months feel like with your heart and soul entangled in his. For once, the unknown was exciting rather than paralyzing. As gravity pulled you closer, you began to believe that you could live in the unknown with Danny until the end of time, and it would be inexplicably better than existing within the known without him by your side. He was so close, and it was hard not to jump. You wanted everything all at once, but savoring him seemed like the only option. His lips were nearly brushing against your own, and despite your earlier efforts at shoving the feelings away, you needed him to close the gap between you. You needed it like water, but you were so parched that you couldn’t speak the words nor go in search of it yourself.

You knew how foolish it was to leave your fate in the hands of another, but for once, not even your own psyche seemed to be able to ruin the moment for you.

part two is soon to be yours 🤍

TAGLIST: @imleavingyoufornewyork @itsafullmoon @bladenotblaze @jessicafg03 @dont-go-home-without-me @peaceloveunitygvf @torniturntomyarrow @lostoverseer @clairesjointshurt @jordie-gvf @lallisonl @smoking-jakelane @gretavangirlie @hollyco

[supergenial]

(translation+lyrics) 狂咲ニーディア by Ariabl’eyeS

What up folks, it’s the brand new Ariabl’eyeS record from this m3-54. Frankly I’m glad I never kept track of the m3 numbers, think I have enough psychological damage when I remember we’re at comiket 104 but I started paying attention to them around comiket 79 ☠️

Anywho, this one lyrically reminds me of Raison d’etre, just really reeeeally desperate and needy vibes. You sometimes have to wonder whether lyricists actually have very passionate love lives or whether they’re just able to come up with this stuff from minor inconveniences. Either way, pretty fun. Lyrics are below the cut and see you all next time (hopefully soon).

—————————————

composer for all tracks: リゼ

Vocals for all tracks: みそらみみ

狂咲ニーディア Kyoushou Needier (Madly Blossoming Needier)

tozasareta tobira no mukou anata wo matteru akari mo nai mukishitsu na awai yume no naka de

Facing the closed door as I wait for you In this cold and lifeless fleeting dream

kowarekaketa omoi dake shimitsuku aijou karada ni tsuita shirushi de ai wo tashikameru

Just broken feelings remain, dyed deeply in love Marks remain on my body, the proof of your love

iiko de iru kara zutto watashi dake wo mite

I’ll be a good girl, so always look only at me.

kuruui saku hanatachi mo kuchite wa mata mi wo musunde amai wana ni izanawarete mo itsuwari no kairaku he ori de somete nuritsubusu kizamitsukete itaku naru hodo tsunagareta kusari hanazasu ni zutto watashi no soba de

Blossoming madly like the flowers, which wilt and bear fruit anew Invited by that sweet deceit into false pleasure Stained and chained, carved so deep it hurts Don't ever let go of the chain binding us, remain by my side

aishite

Love me

motto iiko de iru kara zutto watashi dake wo mite

Since I’ll be an even better girl, look only at me

kuruui saku senritsu ni tsubuen no omoi wo nosete saru yume ni hodasarete hibiku fukashin no gensou wo ai ni somari umorarete kizami tsuita kizu wo nazotte kakushikirenu kyouki ni umoretemo zutto hanasanai de ne

A melody blossoming madly carrying these passionate thoughts Through this burning dream lie echoes of an untainted mirage Drenched in loved, tracing these deeply carved scars Engulfed by the unrelenting madness, never let go of me

aishite

Love me

狂躁セカイ Kyousou Sekai (Maniatic World)

kegarenaki yume no naka towa ni chikau futari no surechigau kanjou to toki wo wasureta sekai

We pledged to each other within an untainted dream Clashing feelings within a world that had forgone time

aisouwarai uso wo hakisutete wa kyousou kurikaeshi omoi shizunde

Fake smiles which only spout lies The lunacy repeats itself as we sink into our feelings

aishiteru no kotoba nante kairaku ni hikatteru no hakanaku chiru aseru omoi mou fureru koto wa dekinai

Submerged in the joy of those loving words Yet I can’t reach again for those now fleeting and vanishing emotions

zankoku na genjitsu ni me wo somukete nigete mo kuichigau shinjou to osaekirenai shoudou

Even if I try to turn my eyes away from this cruel reality Our conflicting emotions and unshakable impulses remain

usurawarai sukui no te mo nakute isso yamete shimaeba eien ni zutto

Faintly laughing as I know no one will save me I should simply end it all at once, eternally

aishiteru no kotoba de sae nikushimi ni hikisakarete midara ni chiru karada kuchite utsuroge ni kasunda me ni

Even loving words can’t root out this hatred My body rots scattering into filth, empty eyes hidden away

aishiteru no kotoba nante kairaku ni hikatteru no itooshikute kowashitakute watashi dake no mono ni shitakute

Your loving words once drenched me in pleasure I want them to myself so much I could just break them, so they’re only mine and mine alone.

“When’s Safira 2?” Look buddy I’m rawdogging this from my phone in an airport right as Im about to board with no edit/checking process and I won’t be home for like two days also translating on the phone got me nauseous somehow which is weird because I’ve done it before with no issues. Maybe I’m just dying or something.

“Her name is Needier????” Idk man, maybe? The official romaji is certainly Needier though

Edit: whew, I really was out of my mind when I uploaded this. Just did a few corrections as entire lines were missing lmao

[phoenixfiiire]

The figure of Sephiroth before him lunged, sword aimed to pierce at the Phoenix's heart, and seconds before the steel could impale his chest the man--

Burst into flames.

He howled as his skin bubbled and crackled. Viscera oozed down his cheeks before being charred black and disappearing behind another curtain of flames that swallowed him whole. Even his shrieks of pain were dwarfed by the howls of the fire.

And just as quickly as it had blossomed, the flames vanished. The only remnant left behind was a pile of ash and a scorch mark on the ground.

Joshua stared at it for a long moment, his chest heaving from exhaustion. As the world around him flickered, the strange liminal space of the battlefield replaced by the stark white walls of the ShinRa labs, he felt his legs start to shake before his knees gave out. There should have been paid when he went crashing to the floor and his knees connected heavily with solid ground, but he felt nothing.

For a moment, at least.

The urge to vomit hit him before the wave of nausea did. It came on fast, strong, and Joshua clapped a hand over his mouth in a vain attempt to try to stop himself - which only resulting in his stomach's contents spewing out from between his fingers, splattering the front of his shirt and pants as well as the ground. His chest heaved again as his lungs spasmed, and he was forced onto all fours as more bile was ejected from his stomach.

It was tinged red and black and was far too thick for just bile. There were also chunks that Joshua was certain had to be flesh, more than likely his own that had necrotized from the materia.

Tears pricked at the corners of his eyes as his stomach convulsed again, and again, and again. The horrible mixture of bloody vomit leaked from his nose, and part of him was certain that was even what his tears were made out of him.

It felt like ages before his body finally quieted down, left without any strength to continue expelling the rotting pieces that had grown inside. It was in that quiet that another sound finally registered; slow, steady clapping.

He tilted his head up to see Hojo standing several feet away from him, applauding the performance. "Congratulations. You managed to defeat the Sephiroth programming."

Something that might have almost been pride? curled up inside of him.

"A program that had been recorded almost three months ago now, and that he had long since surpassed."

"... Ah."

If he had energy, Joshua would have felt ashamed and sick to his stomach - though the latter was already well taken care of. All of that effort. All of that suffering. And for something pointless. Useless.

There was a soft tut from Hojo, a noise that was clearly mocking, only Joshua couldn't hear it for what it truly was. "Cheer up. There's still Genesis and Angeal. They could maybe make use of this. Or some of the other SOLDIERS. Oh, I'm sure we'll find this useful for another... week or so?"

A week. That was all the time his suffering had earned him. Maybe longer, but Joshua knew better than to hope for that. But still, a week-- a week without having to suffer under the experimental surgeries from Hojo, without having to force his body to fight even when he could feel himself beginning to break down.

A towel was dropped on the floor a few paces from Joshua. "Clean this up. You can shower after." Nothing else was said before Hojo left, leaving Joshua to reach out to snag the cloth with shaky hands. There was a bucket, a sink and hose, and a drainage hole on the other side of the room, which meant he had to force himself to stand on shaky legs and walk over, filling the bucket up, carry it back, try to wipe up as much of his own gore as it could-

-try not to vomit again so he didn't have more to clean up-

The process took him close to an hour. His own clothing, a simple red shirt and black pants, were tossed into one of the hazardous material recycling bins in his room. No doubt they would just be incinerated before a new pair was given to him. It didn't matter much; he had plenty of identical pairs.

At least the hot water never runs out. It was the only thing he could really think of as Joshua crawled - almost literally - into the small shower in his room. It wasn't really meant for people to do anything other than stand in it, but he curled his legs up to his chest to allow him to sit as he let the hot water just pelt him, washing away the dirt and vomit and blood. More than likely he'd fall asleep here.

A week. Maybe he could plant more flowers. Or go into Midgar. A whole week. Practically a lifetime, really...

[bandcampsnoop]

4/2/24.

Classic (Sydney, Australia) are another band from up and coming Australian label Blossom Rot Records. Just a few months ago we posted about the band Jungle Breed which had an upbeat Flying Nun vibe.

Classic mine a similar sound as Jungle Breed, but maybe share more in common with the likes of Susan, Look Blue Go Purple or Electrelane.

"Did You Have Fun?" was released a year ago. It was recorded by Cody Munro Moore and mastered by Snowy. More recent releases on Blossom Rot are Bad Bangs and The Vovos. I've yet to listen to a release from this label that I don't like.

[elkdiaries]

my works, posts i’m proud of, masterlist. (if you’re here ily)

ao3 fics

but i only have eyes for you — in which mike visits california, and self-discovery ensues. comedic. so sweet you’ll rot. the season four surfer boys pizza gang content we deserved.

theories and analyses

el not only found the demogorgon when she opened the gate in '83, but also had an altercation with vecna

the lite brite

stranger things s4 ep9 end scene instrumentals

byler and "in the closet (at rink o' mania)"

stranger things s3 ep1 and s4 ep9 similarities

joyce regretting moving to california

vecna = forever

will and clocks

byler and rainbow symbols

byler's apology scene; "the last year has been weird"

byler social experiments — here, here

moodboards (and their occasional one-shot counterparts)

nancy’s diary entries — a collection of her season one escapades, the lighthearted, and the deadly.

platonic madwheeler — mike confides in max about his home life, his blossoming feelings for will, and his intense desire to get out of hawkins.

mike comes out — a letter from mike to his mom, explaining why he’s been closed off lately.

the conversation with possessed will — the monologues from joyce, jonathan, and mike’s perspectives.

punisher and ellie + joel

boygenius’s the record and the party

byler and autumn

el’s ice cream shop

punisher and the party

cottagecore willel

hopclair on vacation

kindergarten byler

dustin and suzie at camp know where

headcanons

miscellaneous stranger things headcanons — here, here, here, here, here

madwheeler — here, here

stranger things summer

stranger things four

the hopper-byers family

will and max

elmax

henderhop

byerson

henclair

byler

elumax

hopclair

elmike

wheelclair

lucas

max

eleven

[lgcsaem]

✰ … YOU EVER BEEN ON A BOAT? there he goes again, rambling ( solo ).

filming never gets old— sitting before a camera, the room devoid of any life aside from misaki, a tiny bird perched outside of his windowsill, and the singular plant left to rot sadly in the far corner of his room, hidden behind a shelf that blocks any vestiges of light needed for strong leaves and healthy stems. it hadn't been too long since he'd last been required to film a vlog like this, something similar to a time capsule, one granting him the opportunity to speak his mind and sort his thoughts, but it hadn't circled back around to feeling unfamiliar.

misaki feels at ease before the camera ( he always has, and, if you were to ask him, he would always continue to ). the word shy was hardly one someone could use when describing him, his rambunctious attitude and knack for excitement being a stark contrast to the vast majority of his peers. maybe that's why he already feels his skin beginning to crawl, legs bouncing in the seat where he's sat, gaze trained on the camera set down on his desk.

the light blinks a few times, signaling to him that is really had started to record.

"can we go on another cruise sometime soon? it was awesome!"

maybe not the most professional way to start off, but at least his enthusiasm is clear.

"i've been on a boat before, and i've flown across the ocean plenty of times, but this was the first time i'd ever been able to take a real cruise before— even though we still had to take part in workshops, free time was super cool! have you ever gone rock wall climbing while on the ocean!?" already, misaki finds himself bouncing idly in his seat, a wide grin on his face as he speaks, snaggletooth out and proud for the camera lens to autofocus on for the briefest of moments. "i don't ever get nervous, but for the first time in a while, i sort of felt a bit on edge when we first got on the boat. my mom used to always complain about how sick sailing made her, that's why i hadn't gone on are real boats before— i hate feeling sick— but i think that might just be a her problem. i'd go on another cruise right now if you offered!"

for a moment, his gaze flickers to the wilted cherry blossom laying on the corner of his desk, his demeanor evening out slightly. for as exciting as the trip had been ( on all fronts ), it had also been truly eye-opening. normally, misaki wasn't one for learning, his general attention span stalling when non-physical activities were involved. "visiting so many different spaces in japan was . . . cool, too. i've gone to visit family a few times, but i didn't really have a great grasp on the language or culture— my parents never taught me while growing up back home, isn't that kind of a bummer?" misakis lips form a pout, eyes wide and round as he stares into the camera. "i liked being able to see and do so much, i wanna do it again soon!"

[kissedprint]

SAD GIRLS CLUB with @minusn0ne 📍 hyein's apartment

hyein started working with angelix in 2021.

the first song she wrote for them was "in my dreams"—a song she had written in february 2021. at the time, yuchan was on tour with remedy—while nymth were thrust into yet another year-long hiatus, and hyein was deep in the throes of a painfully unrequited love—which she dealt with by holing up in ninety9 creative’s recording studio, pouring her heart and soul and all of her overwhelming feelings for yuchan into stupid little love songs that she expected would rot away deep in her hard drive.

hyein and yuchan started dating later that year—and all hyein could write was more stupid love songs. but nymth's discography didn't have any room for these stupid love songs—so, on an extremely tipsy and love-drunk whim, hyein submitted every single one of them for angelix's next album. truthfully, hyein hadn't expected them to be accepted—her name has never carried much weight in this industry and, at the time, the only group she had written for was her own.

fast forward to summer, and hyein was in the studio with angelix, directing them during the recording sessions for "in my dreams" and "bamboleo". she was back again in november—and again the following summer. over time, angelix became a keeper for some of hyein’s most precious feelings—a safe haven for her songs that kevin deemed too personal, too cheesy, too “lovey-dovey.”

and somewhere in between all the lovesick lullabies and late night recording sessions, a friendship formed between her and eunbin. hyein wouldn’t go as far as calling them best friends, but there was something comforting and familiar about the friendship that had started to blossom between them. they weren't close enough to be considered best friends, no, but they shared a familiar bond. hyein wonders if it's too strange to call them kindred spirits—but, strange or not, it's what she feels when she thinks about her friendship with eunbin. familiarity.

so, when eunbin calls at 11:47 p.m. and asks if she can come over, it’s an automatic yes—no questions asked. hyein figures something must be on the girl’s mind, but she’s never been one to pry—she knows better than anyone the strength it takes to open up to someone new; to let another see you at your most vulnerable—those raw, unfiltered emotions that feel far too ugly to share aloud. so, she doesn’t pry when eunbin first walks through her door—instead, hyein invites her to sit down, places a cup of chamomile tea in her hands, and offers to cook for her.

"we don't have to talk about it," she says suddenly. hyein stands at her kitchen sink—head down as she thumbs through a tattered recipe book. the concerned lilt of her voice is hard to ignore, but she tries to keep her tone light; casual. a gentle smile floats across her lips when she lifts her head and meets eunbin’s gaze. "but i think i know what you're going through, and shoving those feelings down won't do you any good."

[lettersfromleslie]

Blossoms, Birdhouses & Nutcases / The Gang Gets Famous / Jazzing In Blue Jeans

Well, new year, new sorrows, eh?

Ever-changing evergreen grey are the days, and fairly formless, here in the birdhouse, a chill damp and much silence these last few months. But the winter's about spent, the soft fuzzy Winter of the Mole, spent in a daze, a hazy few months of fretting & forgetting. Should we have called it the Winter of the Ostrich? What a spring we're awaking to. Did we rest? Are we stronger? Up and stretch, children! Stretch arms and hands and feet! The blossoms are here!

Really did hibernate more or less, did I, getting by on just three or four days of work a week, nothing like last winter's everyday frenzy trying to keep up with new & bigger bills. This winter the yodeling regimen was highly streamlined: aside from a bit of street poetry at Pike Place, I mostly just played the morning farmers markets on Saturdays and Sundays, drizzle or no, and a weekly gig at SeaTac airport, courtesy of the Port of Seattle. Cooked cheap, barely went out, just paying down the basics till the end of the rainy season. A mite monklike, but quite restful, certainly a step up from the K2 smokes of the 2nd Ave F line… Been thinking bout ghosts of NYC winters past… I miss NYC but I guess I don't miss the winters.

The idea was that I'd use all this extra time to write. Every winter I tell myself I'll live off me fat awhile and use the time to freshen up my set. Light the midnight candle, ruminate & brood, conjure masterpieces, all that. Stanzas. Poems that bloody well rhyme. Us musicians still get away with that. And this year I told myself louder than ever, because I'm overdue for some new work - horrors thinking how long it's been since the last album - the relentlessness of time!! - besides, you get tired of your set when you're singing your old feelings every day.

Anyway, have actually been writing songs am glad to say, got a few keepers and ye will be getting to hear em this year. We can thank Dusty for that in part, what with his relentless jazz lessons, which I've got some new chords out of, as well as the street poetry, which has kept the word-pipes from freezing over. And then there's the jolt our lil gang has had from the dizzying rise to stardom of our very own Brudi Brothers..!

They're famous now, they are, and TikTok did it, of course, and a good illustration twas of how TikTok thrives on the energies of those whose brains are least rotted by our great societal unscrolling. They're about the most real-world, old-world, out-and-about type young folks you can find anywhere these days. I befriended Conrad and George Brudi at the Ballard Farmers Market soon after moving here, where every Sunday I'd be yodeling and they'd be typing poems, doffed up in fine Western dandy style - real proper swashbuckling art lads them, versed in block printing and iambic pentameter as well as the fickle ways of the sea, singing oldtimey Mills Brothers-esque harmonies, cowboy songs, '20s jazz, fabulous mouth trumpeting. The lads have style! Dusty completed the gang when he turned up in May, and among the constellations of fellow art bum types connecting out from there life over the summer & fall was a great merry whirl of lil trips & gigs & tours & adventures, all on a shoestring, a lovely shoestring tapestry…

Imagine everyone's surprise when it turnd out this cheery ragamuffin thing of the Brudis needed nothing but a savvy eye for social media to utterly explode on TikTok. Shoutout to George's love Lily for that final touch, which sent a live clip of the debut performance of their anti-hipster anthem, "Me More Cowboy Than You" to every corner of the spiderweb, and the hastily recorded demo that followed went straight to #1 on the USA Most Viral charts on Spotify. Prestigious rockstar developments followed, execs flying in, talent agents, mango margaritas, and now they're in the realm of dealmaking and syndication, their careers seem assured, the hometown drama is outrageous, everyone wants a piece of em and they're oscillating daily thru all phases of giddy terrors - and a month from now they'll be playing arenas, opening for Sierra Ferrell (who is fondly remembered in these parts as a former Pike Place busker herself). All in the space of three or four months!

You can imagine how a thing like that can earthquake a gang - and how it can light a fire under a slightly stalled-out yodeling bum like myself. So it really can happen just like that! Damn! There's hope yet for the bums! The sweet musk of the busk! Best get scribbling!

Looking at the blank page before me, then, and trying to picture the next album, or whatever it's gonna be. What's it about? What does it sing of? The outlines are still pretty hazy. Feels there oughta be plenty to cover in this world, but being contemporary doesn't come easy to me, especially now that the present moment is so distressing to look at head-on. I've always preferred to listen for the weird whispers underneath the chatter … the monsters & the mysteries. And how do you sing for a world that's in such an absolute state? Protest feels a bit like trying to put out a rapidly spreading house fire with a cup. There's an energy growing the world over that's just plain mean, mean and stupid, that most dispiriting combination of traits … And it's not like it's just started either, the shift has been underway for years, open threats & warfare becoming ever more accepted currencies of power, ethnic cleansing and mass murder not only being carried out but intellectualized and justified, environmental considerations abandoned even as mama nature becomes more chaotic … and we keep doubling down further, keep voting for more meanness and stupidity. We already had problems aplenty, by gawd, and now we've added on political deportations of activists, secret police, institutions dissolved, alliances torn up, rights rescinded, trans folk bullied… It's Weimar in the first person, darlins … The colours are fading, the talk is jingo, the silence is the uneasy silence of horrified bystanders. Will the transformation be completed, or will the bastards cock it up? Will the coming economic crash break the spell, or pave the way for new oppressions? Will the exhausted yanks get back up and buck their greasy rider? Or will they cower beneath the whip? Are we more cowboy than he - or he more cowboy than us?? These are the matters before us.

Out in the world, on the streets, in the mountains, strange beauties still take place, always. You miss em though, when you're all wrapped up in things, looking up from a screen - eh? It's not just the Luddites now who know in their hearts that one day we'll all look back shaking our heads over our crazy collective decision to wire our monkeybrains to an ever-expanding system of endless information designed with the sole function of holding our attentions to show us more ads. What a mad thing to do! And we carry it all with us in our pockets, no less, with GPS trackers and all, and we use it to film our protests & pleas! Really! We're that entangled! I'm doing it now! How else do I reach ya? But we gotta try to disentangle. Give the fuckers a little less every day. The old world is still waiting out there.

Still, damned efficient route to getting famous quick, eh? So we give the wheel another turn, dreaming of breaking er.

For now, once again: up come the crocuses, and the daffodils begin their wretched honking, our walls are filled with squirrels, new sounds are drifting thru the cracks, the floorboards, strums & tinkles & trombones, songs are scribbled, each Sunday a family dinner, travelers and performers snooze away on the couches & floors… We're not dead yet … The whales spurt & sputter yet in the sound, the crabs cackle in the deep with unmistakable schadenfreude. Look out for the word - plan your ways quietly - never interrupt your enemy when he's making a mistake - tip your local yodeler - all is life inexorably going its way & holy holy holy holy !

[trailing-petunia]

The Secret Life of Flower Seeds: Fun Facts and Growing Tips

Flower seeds may look small and unassuming, but they hold the power to transform your garden into a vibrant oasis of color and fragrance. From the delicate poppy to the sturdy sunflower, every bloom starts its journey as a humble seed. In this blog, we’ll uncover some fun facts about these tiny wonders and share tips on how to grow them into beautiful blossoms that will brighten your space.

Fun Facts About Flower Seeds

Ancient Origins: Did you know that some flower seeds have been around for thousands of years? Sunflower seeds were first cultivated by Native Americans around 3000 BCE, while evidence of poppy seed use dates back to the ancient Egyptians.

Dormant Yet Alive: Flower seeds can remain dormant for years, waiting for the perfect conditions to sprout. The oldest viable seed ever recorded was a 2,000-year-old Judean date palm seed that successfully germinated!

Travelers of the World: Some seeds are expert travelers. Dandelion seeds can be carried by the wind for miles, while coconut seeds float across oceans to find new shores to call home.

Microscopic Marvels: Orchid seeds are among the smallest in the world, almost dust-like, while the largest seed belongs to the Coco de Mer palm, which can weigh up to 40 pounds!

Nature’s Packaging: Seeds come in all shapes and sizes, each with unique adaptations for survival. Some have hard coats that protect them from harsh conditions, while others have soft shells that allow for quick germination.

Growing Tips for Success

Now that we’ve explored the fascinating world of flower seeds, let’s dive into some practical tips to help you grow a thriving garden:

Choose the Right Seeds: Start with high-quality seeds that are suited to your climate and soil type. At Trailing Petunia, we offer a wide variety of flower seeds, from sun-loving zinnias to shade-loving impatiens.

Prepare the Soil: Before planting, make sure your soil is well-drained and rich in organic matter. You can add compost or aged manure to improve fertility and structure.

Planting Depth: Planting depth is crucial for seed germination. As a general rule, plant seeds at a depth twice their diameter. Smaller seeds like poppies should be sown on the surface, while larger seeds like sunflowers can be planted deeper.

Water Wisely: Keep the soil consistently moist but not waterlogged. Overwatering can lead to rot, while underwatering can cause seeds to dry out. A gentle misting can help keep the soil just right.

Provide Light: Most flower seeds need light to germinate, so make sure they get plenty of it. If you’re starting seeds indoors, place them under grow lights or in a sunny window.

Be Patient: Some flower seeds take longer to germinate than others. Don’t give up if you don’t see immediate results. Keep the soil moist, and be patient—nature will do the rest.

Nurture Your Garden

Growing flowers from seeds can be a rewarding experience, and with the right care and attention, you’ll soon see the fruits of your labor blooming beautifully. Whether you’re a seasoned gardener or a beginner, there’s always something new to learn from the secret life of flower seeds.

So, what are you waiting for? Grab your gardening gloves, choose your favorite seeds from Trailing Petunia, and start planting today! Your garden is just a few seeds away from becoming a paradise of vibrant colors and delightful scents. Happy gardening!