#I still vividly remember the moment she came into my mind

[elryuse]

Hierarchy

Pt 5 : Complicated

For My Other Hierarchy Story, Please Kindly Check Over Here. Hope You Liked It.

"You kissed him?!" Ryujin’s voice cut through the chaos, sharp and accusing. Her eyes were wide, her lips trembling as she stared at So-hyun, who stood with an unreadable smirk plastered across her face. The room was silent now, save for the faint hum of music in the background. Everyone was frozen, their phones still raised, capturing every second of this chaotic moment.

I couldn’t move. My chest tightened as I looked from Ryujin to Wonyoung, who stood a few feet away, her arms crossed, her expression a mix of shock and something darker—something like hurt. My head spun, my thoughts a jumbled mess. What just happened? I glanced at So-hyun, who met my gaze with a glint in her eyes that sent chills down my spine.

"Relax, Ryujin," So-hyun drawled, her voice dripping with false sweetness. "It was just a kiss. A little… experiment." She shrugged, as if it were nothing, but the way her eyes lingered on me told a different story. It was as if she was assessing me, trying to figure out how I fit into whatever game she was playing.

Ryujin stepped forward, her fists clenched. "You don’t just kiss someone like that! Especially not him! What are you even—"

"Oh, please," So-hyun interrupted, rolling her eyes. "Don’t act like you own him, Ryujin. He’s not your property." She turned to me, her smirk widening. "Isn’t that right, Y/n?"

I opened my mouth to respond, but no words came out. My throat felt dry, my mind racing. This wasn’t supposed to happen. None of this was supposed to happen. I had come here thinking it would be just another night, another chance to blend into the background. But now, I was the center of attention, caught in a web I didn’t understand.

And then there was Wonyoung. Her gaze burned into me, filled with questions I couldn’t answer. Why did I kiss her? Why did I let myself get swept up in the moment? I wanted to explain, to tell her it was a mistake, but the weight of everyone’s stares held me back.

The silence stretched, thick and suffocating, until So-hyun broke it with a laugh—soft, almost musical, but laced with something sinister. "Well, this has been fun," she said, clapping her hands together. "But I think it’s time we moved on. Come on, everyone, let’s dance!"

She grabbed my arm, her grip surprisingly strong, and pulled me toward the center of the room. The crowd parted around us, whispering behind their hands, their eyes following our every move. So-hyun leaned in close, her breath warm against my ear. "You’re mine now," she whispered, her voice low and commanding. "Whether you like it or not."

Earlier that evening, everything had seemed so simple. I had arrived at So-hyun’s mansion feeling out of place, my suit wrinkled, my nerves on edge. The limousine Ryujin had arranged for me felt like overkill, and the grandeur of So-hyun’s home only made me feel more out of my depth. But I had promised Ryujin I would come, and I didn’t want to let her down.

Ryujin greeted me at the door, her smile bright and infectious. "You made it!" she exclaimed, pulling me into a quick hug. "Come on, let’s get you a drink. You look like you need one."

I laughed nervously, allowing her to lead me through the crowded mansion. The party was already in full swing, the air thick with the scent of expensive perfumes and champagne. Everywhere I looked, people were laughing, dancing, and flirting. It was overwhelming, but also exhilarating.

As Ryujin handed me a glass of something bubbly, I noticed Wonyoung standing by the piano. She looked stunning, her dark hair cascading over her shoulders, her dress shimmering under the soft light. I hadn’t seen her since the day I played the piano at her family’s home, and the memory brought a strange flutter to my chest.

Wonyoung caught my eye and smiled faintly before turning away. I wondered what she was thinking, whether she remembered that day as vividly as I did. But before I could approach her, Ryujin looped her arm through mine and dragged me toward the dance floor.

The night blurred after that. Shots of liquor, laughter, and the dizzying rush of being surrounded by people who seemed to actually want me around. For the first time since starting at Jooshin High, I felt like I belonged. But that feeling shattered the moment I kissed Wonyoung.

Now, as So-hyun led me deeper into the crowd, I felt like a puppet on strings, helpless to resist. She stopped suddenly, turning to face me. Her eyes were intense, searching, as if she was trying to see straight through me.

"Do you know why I kissed you?" she asked, her voice barely audible over the music.

I shook my head, too stunned to speak.

"Because you’re interesting," she said, her lips curling into a sly smile. "You’re not like the others. You’re not afraid to take risks. And that makes you dangerous."

"Dangerous?" I repeated, my voice hoarse.

So-hyun nodded, her smile fading. "People like you disrupt the balance. And at Jooshin High, balance is everything."

Before I could respond, she kissed me again—harder this time, more possessive. The room erupted into cheers and whistles, but all I could focus on was the cold steeliness in So-hyun’s eyes. This wasn’t about attraction or affection. This was about control.

When she finally pulled away, I felt like the ground had been ripped out from under me. So-hyun leaned in close, her lips brushing against my ear. "Welcome to the game, Y/n," she whispered. "Let’s see how long you can survive."

She walked away, leaving me standing alone in the middle of the crowd. My heart pounded in my chest, my mind racing. What have I gotten myself into?

"Y/n," a voice called from behind me. I turned to see Wonyoung standing there, her arms crossed, her expression unreadable. "We need to talk. Now."

Wonyoung’s grip on my wrist was like a vice as she dragged me through the labyrinth of So-hyun’s mansion. The air grew colder the further we went, the noise of the party fading into an eerie silence. My head was still spinning from the alcohol, but the sharpness in her voice cut through the haze.

“What the fuck are you planning here?” she hissed, slamming the door shut behind us. The room was dimly lit, its walls lined with shelves full of books and trinkets that looked like they belonged in a museum rather than a teenager’s home. Wonyoung leaned against the door, her arms crossed, her glare piercing through me like daggers.

I stumbled backward, holding up my hands defensively. “I-I don’t know what you’re talking about! I’m drunk, Wonyoung. I didn’t—I didn’t mean to—”

“Cut the crap,” she snapped, stepping closer. Her voice was low, dangerous. “You kissed me. In front of everyone. And then So-hyun pulls this stunt? Do you have any idea what kind of mess you’ve just thrown yourself into?”

My throat tightened. She wasn’t wrong. I had no clue what was happening. One moment, I was trying to survive the chaos of the party, and the next, I was caught in some twisted power play between two of the most influential girls at Jooshin High.

“I swear, I didn’t plan any of this,” I stammered, my voice cracking under the weight of her stare. “So-hyun… she just… kissed me out of nowhere. I didn’t even—”

“And you think that makes it better?” Wonyoung interrupted, her tone dripping with sarcasm. She closed the distance between us, her face mere inches from mine. Her breath smelled faintly of mint and something sharper, almost metallic. “Do you have any idea what So-hyun is capable of? What I’m capable of?”

I flinched. Her words carried a threat I couldn’t fully comprehend, but it sent a chill down my spine nonetheless. “Look, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—”

Before I could finish, the door burst open, and So-hyun strode in like a storm. Her presence was commanding, her every movement calculated. She didn’t even glance at Wonyoung; her focus was entirely on me.

“Enough of this,” So-hyun said coolly, her voice slicing through the tension like a knife. She grabbed my arm, her nails digging into my skin just enough to make me wince. “Y/n, come with me.”

Wonyoung stepped forward, blocking our path. “Where do you think you’re taking him?”

So-hyun smirked, a flicker of amusement dancing in her eyes. “That’s none of your concern, darling. He’s mine now.”

The way she said it—so casually, so possessively—made my stomach twist. But before I could protest, So-hyun was already pulling me out of the room, leaving Wonyoung standing there, her fists clenched, her expression a mix of fury and something else I couldn’t quite place.

The hallway felt endless as So-hyun dragged me toward the garage. My mind raced, trying to make sense of what was happening, but every thought felt sluggish, drowned out by the alcohol and the adrenaline coursing through my veins. When we reached the garage, she shoved me toward one of her supercars—a sleek, black monstrosity that screamed wealth and power.

“Get in,” she ordered, sliding into the driver’s seat. Her tone left no room for argument.

I hesitated, glancing back toward the mansion. Ryujin stood at the entrance, her eyes wide with confusion. She opened her mouth as if to say something, but no words came out. When our eyes met, I saw a flicker of hurt, maybe even betrayal, before she quickly turned away.

“I said get in,” So-hyun repeated, her voice sharper this time. She rolled down the window, her icy gaze daring me to defy her.

Swallowing hard, I opened the car door and slid into the passenger seat. The leather was cold against my skin, the scent of luxury and something vaguely chemical filling my nostrils. So-hyun started the engine, the roar of it drowning out any chance of escape.

As we sped away from the mansion, the streetlights blurred into streaks of gold. My heart pounded in my chest, my thoughts a jumbled mess. I wanted to ask where we were going, what she wanted from me, but the words wouldn’t come. So-hyun drove with a quiet intensity, her hands gripping the steering wheel like it was the only thing keeping her grounded.

After what felt like an eternity, she spoke again, her voice soft but laced with venom. “Do you know why I brought you here tonight, Y/n?”

I shook my head, not trusting myself to speak.

“Because you’re different,” she said, her lips curling into a sly smile. “You’re not like them. You don’t play their games. You don’t follow their rules. And that… that makes you dangerous.”

Her words hung in the air, heavy and suffocating. I didn’t feel dangerous. I felt lost, out of my depth, like a pawn being moved across a chessboard by players far more skilled than I could ever hope to be.

“But here’s the thing,” she continued, her voice dropping to a whisper. “In this world, danger is power. And power… well, that’s all anyone really cares about, isn’t it?”

She pulled over in front of an empty park, the trees casting long shadows in the moonlight. Turning to face me, she placed a hand on my cheek, her touch surprisingly gentle. “You have potential, Y/n. Don’t waste it.”

I swallowed hard, my throat dry. “What do you want from me?”

Her smile widened, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “Everything.”

The drive to the penthouse was silent, save for the low hum of So-hyun’s luxury car. The city lights blurred past the tinted windows, casting fleeting shadows across her sharp features. She sat perfectly poised, hands resting lightly on the steering wheel, her expression unreadable. I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was being pulled into something far beyond my control. Every time I tried to speak, the words caught in my throat. What could I even say? Her presence alone was enough to render me speechless.

When we arrived, the penthouse loomed above us like a monument to her family’s wealth and influence. A private elevator whisked us up to the top floor, and the doors slid open to reveal a space that felt more like a throne room than a home. The walls were lined with abstract art—dark, twisted pieces that seemed to pulse with an unsettling energy. The floor-to-ceiling windows offered a panoramic view of the city, but the beauty of it was overshadowed by the heavy tension hanging in the air.

So-hyun strode ahead of me, her heels clicking against the polished marble floors. She didn’t look back, but her voice carried through the vast space. “Make yourself comfortable, Y/n. We have a lot to discuss.”

I hesitated, unsure where to sit or even if I should. The enormity of the room made me feel small, insignificant. Finally, I perched on the edge of a sleek leather couch, my hands clasped tightly in my lap. So-hyun disappeared into another room, leaving me alone with my racing thoughts.

She returned moments later, holding two glasses of deep red wine. She handed one to me, her fingers brushing mine deliberately as she did. I took the glass, though my hand trembled slightly. She sat down beside me, closer than necessary, her thigh pressing against mine. The warmth of her body was disorienting, and I fought the urge to move away.

“You’re full of surprises, Y/n,” she said, taking a slow sip of her wine. Her lips glistened faintly when she pulled the glass away. “First Wonyoung, then Ryujin, and now… me. Tell me, do you always find yourself at the center of such chaos?”

I shook my head, unsure how to respond. “I-I didn’t mean for any of this to happen. It just… did.”

Her laughter was soft, almost musical, but there was an edge to it that sent a shiver down my spine. “Sometimes, darling, life has a way of pushing us into places we never expected. But what matters is how we handle it. And you… you interest me.”

I looked at her, my confusion evident. “Why? I’m just a scholarship student. I don’t belong here.”

Her eyes narrowed slightly, and she leaned in closer, her breath warm against my ear. “That’s exactly why you’re interesting. You’re different. Unpolished. Raw. And in a world filled with people who think they know everything, that makes you dangerous.”

My heart pounded in my chest as her words sunk in. Dangerous? Me? The idea was laughable, but the intensity in her gaze told me she wasn’t joking. She set her glass down on the table, then reached out to trace a finger along the side of my face. Her touch was feather-light, but it sent jolts of electricity through me.

“Tell me, Y/n,” she murmured, her voice dripping with a quiet authority. “Do you enjoy games?”

I swallowed hard, my mouth suddenly dry. “It depends on the game.”

A slow, predatory smile spread across her lips. “Good answer. Let’s see how well you play.”

Before I could react, she stood and walked over to a sleek black piano positioned near the window. She ran her fingers lightly over the keys, the notes soft and haunting. “Come here,” she commanded, not bothering to turn around.

I obeyed without thinking, drawn to her like a moth to a flame. When I reached her side, she gestured for me to sit on the bench beside her. Her proximity was overwhelming, her scent—something floral and intoxicating—filling my senses.

“Play something for me,” she said, her tone daring me to refuse.

“I-I’m not very good,” I stammered, my nerves betraying me.

“Don’t lie to me,” she said sharply, her eyes locking onto mine. “I saw you play at Wonyoung’s house. You’re better than you let on. Now… play.”

My hands hovered over the keys, trembling slightly. I finally settled on a piece I knew by heart, letting the music flow through me. As I played, So-hyun watched me intently, her gaze never wavering. When I finished, she didn’t clap or praise me. Instead, she placed her hand over mine, stopping the final note from ringing out.

“Beautiful,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “But beauty isn’t enough. You need to learn how to use it.”

I frowned, unsure what she meant. “Use it?”

She leaned in closer, her lips brushing against my ear as she spoke. “Power isn’t about what you have, Y/n. It’s about how you wield it. And I think it’s time you learned how.”

Her hand slid up my arm, sending a shiver through me. My mind screamed at me to pull away, to run, but my body refused to obey. There was something magnetic about her, something that kept me rooted in place.

“W-what are you saying?” I managed to ask, my voice barely above a whisper.

She smiled, her lips curling into a smirk. “I’m saying that I can teach you things no one else can. But first… you have to prove you’re willing to play the game.”

Before I could respond, she gripped my chin firmly, forcing me to look into her eyes. They burned with an intensity that was both terrifying and thrilling. “Kiss me,” she ordered.

My breath hitched. “What?”

“Kiss me,” she repeated, her voice low and commanding. “Unless you’re too scared.”

The challenge in her tone ignited something inside me—a mix of defiance and desire. Without thinking, I closed the distance between us, pressing my lips to hers. The kiss was electric, fueled by a raw, untamed energy. Her hands tangled in my hair, pulling me closer until there was no space left between us.

When we finally broke apart, both of us were breathing heavily. So-hyun’s eyes gleamed with satisfaction, as though she had just won a small victory. “Good,” she purred. “But don’t think for a second that this means you’ve earned my trust. This is just the beginning, Y/n. And if you want to survive in my world, you’ll need to learn how to play by my rules.”

[salaimoi]

𝒘𝒊𝒍𝒅𝒇𝒍𝒐𝒘𝒆𝒓 — 𝒃𝒊𝒍𝒍𝒊𝒆 𝒆𝒊𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒉

[˚୨୧⋆. 𝒔𝒚𝒑𝒏𝒐𝒔𝒊𝒔] after his wife’s death, you became toji fushiguro’s only reliant shoulder. however, unbeknownst to you, your deceased friend’s ex-husband had ulterior motives in mind when he began to pursue you.

[˚୨୧⋆. 𝒈𝒆𝒏𝒓𝒆] angst

[˚୨୧⋆. 𝒘𝒄] 2.k

[˚୨୧⋆. 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆𝒔] yellow is reader’s pov, blue is toji’s pov. it might sound repetitive and rushed bc i just wanted to get this out of my drafts. i know billie’s song came out like ages ago so it wouldn’t make sense to release this any later than it already is

𓂃 ོ𓂃 Things fall apart, and time breaks your heart. I wasn't there, but I know.

toji always reassured you a million times; he wasn’t heartbroken over his split with his ex-wife, not in the slightest. he rarely opened up about his past, let alone his previous relationships. and yet, deep down, you knew he hadn’t properly processed their rupture.

the most he ever disclosed to you was the fact that there was nothing left to salvage in his old relationship — so he moved on, and so did she. 

but was that the entire truth? 

you noticed the prolonged glances he would take when opening his wallet. the empty look behind his eyes when he stared down at his naked ring finger. even the faint sniffling at night that he tried convincing you were nothing more than allergies. but you knew he was silently mourning her. 

her – the real love of his life.

She was my girl. I showed her the world, but fell out of love and we both let go. ⋆࿐

i made it my life goal to tend to her happiness. the only reason for my very existence was to see that she had everything she could ever want. hell, that’s the only thing i’ve ever been good at.

i never kept anything from her — except my line of work. i couldn’t bring myself to tell her the man she fell in love with was a deadbeat mercenary who bathed in the blood of others for a living. as much as i tried to protect her from that side of my life, she eventually went digging her nose where it wasn’t needed. 

the aftermath of her discovering the truth about my hidden agenda came at the price of our relationship. 

she couldn’t withstand the constant pain of being by my side any longer, to turn in bed only to see a bastard by her side. she wholeheartedly believed that the man that now stood before her was no longer the one she fell in love with. 

somehow i didn’t blame her.

She was cryin’ on my shoulder. All I could do was hold her.

i still remember it so vividly — how her body trembled against mine like a leaf. tears coursed down her cheeks as she clung to me like a lifeline, seeking comfort in the midst of her anguish. as selfish as it may sound, the weight of her sorrow became almost too much to bear. 

i couldn't offer excuses or apologies; these were empty gestures that wouldn't alleviate the agony she felt at that moment. instead, i stood there, silently holding her, offering my presence as the only comfort.

the guilt washed over me in waves as i cradled her, feeling her heart shatter a little more with each sob. i knew i was the cause of her pain, yet i couldn’t tell her the whole truth. all i could do was hold her, wishing i could undo the past.

𓂃 ོ𓂃 Only made us closer until July.

the moment he began pursuing you when enough time had gone by, it immediately felt wrong. he was your friend’s ex-husband, after all. toji had never looked at you twice before, and now, he suddenly had lustful eyes for you? 

you eventually conceded because you wanted to be there for him, giving him the benefit of the doubt that he had no ulterior motives. but one way or another, every conversation at dinner circled back to her. 

“oh she loved mashed potatoes.” 

“fun fact, she had a strawberry allergy.” 

“did you know this brand of vanilla ice cream was her favorite?”

and as much as it pained you, you became a reliant ear for him — someone who would listen to all the little details he swore he had forgotten the day she divorced him. even if every bone in your body wanted to run in the opposite direction, far, far away from him, you stayed. 

maybe all he needs is time, you told yourself.

right?

Now I know that you love me. You don't need to remind me. I should put it all behind me, shouldn't I? ⋆࿐

your affection always remained a constant in my turbulent world, like a gentle rain that falls softly even amidst the storm. but the longer the internal storm went on, the more ravenous the regret and guilt raged on. i found myself unable to fully comprehend the depth of your love for me, but deep down, i knew that your love was unwavering. 

i knew that in order to truly move on, i had to let go of the past and embrace the present; you represented that fresh start i so urgently needed. but the thought of her still lingered, a constant reminder of what once was but should no longer be. it was as if i was being consumed by my own memories, unable to break free. as if a part of me still longed for the past. 

the weight of my conflicting emotions burdened my every waking moment, leading me to push you away with no explanation. feelings for the both of you coexisted, and i couldn't fully commit to one without betraying the other. every time i looked at you, guilt would wash over me for putting you through this hell.

 likewise, every time i looked at her picture, i felt like a traitor for ever moving on as soon as i did.

But I see her in the back of my mind all the time. Just like a fever, like I’m burning alive, like a sign. ⋆࿐

beneath the mask of indifference, i was plagued by shame. it was hard to accept that the girl who once consumed my thoughts was no longer part of my life, and looking at you, i realized that your love knew no bounds; that wasn’t enough for me. 

i hadn’t stopped loving her. 

it felt like a fever that never broke. an unrelenting heat that burned deep inside me, reminding me of the girl who dwelled in the back of my mind all those years ago.

every word about my past, every little detail about my ex, felt like a confession at church – a church where my sins would be revealed to the world. 

talking about my past wouldn’t magically absolve me of my past, now would it? redemption was never an option for me, and i wasn’t asking for it. instead of trying to cleanse myself of my history, i decided to leave it all behind like a forgotten box in an attic. 

𓂃 ོ𓂃 Well, good things don't last, and life moves so fast. I'd never ask who was better 'cause she couldn't be more different from me.

he told you to let it go — to let it die like she did that fateful day. it was no use keeping her memory alive, he said, but if that was the case, why did he take her last name months later? 

not to mention they spent years together — even conceived a child together; a child he named after her, but that detail never seemed to make its way to you. 

everyone told you to stop comparing yourself, but how could you not? she was everything you weren’t even after death: soft spoken, graceful, gentle, patient, loving. 

you didn’t dare ask such a redundant question so you didn’t voice it, but your continuous comparison to her was eating you alive; toji noticed it. you hadn’t slept with him in almost a month, internally afraid he’ll blurt out her name instead of yours.

𓂃 ོ𓂃 And I know that you love me. you don't need to remind me.

he went out of his way to send more ‘i love u’ messages than before; they seemed forced, just like your relationship. 

she had previously informed you of things that found their way to the most profound recesses of your mind. you didn’t flinch at the time, because you were mesmerized that he did such things for her, but it affected you later on. 

you learned bitter truths that made you doubt his love for you. and when you finally realized he didn’t do any of the things she spoke of, it dawned on you; toji didn’t love you. 

not like he loved her. 

𓂃 ོ𓂃 You say no one knows you so well but every time you touch me, I just wonder how she felt.

you’d stay up late at night countless times wondering what toji’s affectionate touch actually felt like. it was something only she ever knew, and you’d do anything to get a semblance of that feeling. 

but it was obvious no one knows the real him — not like she did.

despite everything, you decided to give this relationship one last try by booking a hotel for the both of you. everything inside you screamed that it was a horrible idea, but you did it anyway.

𓂃 ོ𓂃 Valentine's Day, cryin’ in the hotel. I know you didn’t mean to hurt me, so I kept it to myself.

and he finally did it. he mistakenly blurted out her name on the most romantic day of the year. 

“i-i’m sorry.” toji rushed to apologize, grabbing a hold of your arm so you wouldn’t walk out the door.

“I wonder, do you see HER in the back of your mind, in my eyes!?” was the only thing you could force yourself to reply in that moment, breaking away from his grip in the process.  

“i do,” toji dejectedly admits with a hint of sorrow behind his voice. or was it indignity?

he pauses, absentmindedly digging his nails into the tender flesh of his balled up fist as he grapples with his conscience. all along, he knew the day to finally hold himself accountable would come, but he didn’t think it would’ve been like this. 

his mind involuntarily wandered, and in the depths of your gaze, he saw glimpses of his deceased wife — a ghost that lingered in the back of his subconscious even after all this time.  

memories of her flood his mind, and for a brief moment, the both of you merge into one — his past and present colliding into one. the familiar shade of your irises, the identical shine behind them, the bright glimmer of light behind them when you smiled — all of it brought a pang of bittersweet nostalgia to him. 

silence overtook the room like a storm, and with it, your heart. so he does see a reflection of his dead wife when he stares into your eyes — the eyes he promised captivated him to no bounds. 

“was all of it a lie, then?” 

“no.” 

“how was it not a lie, toji?”

“it wasn’t a lie, doll-“ 

“don’t call me that.” you interrupt him with words almost sharp enough to cut him, a slight tremble behind your voice. 

tears immediately welled up in the delicate corners of your eyes, threatening to spill over at any moment. his expression softened at the sight; however, his reluctance to approach you remained. he knew he was the reason behind your hurt, just like he was the cause of hers all that time ago. history does indeed repeat itself, doesn’t it? 

he wished he could find the words that would help ease your pain — the exhaustion and heartache you felt. to take it all away with a mere sentence, that would be quite incredible. but that’s not how life works.

“okay.” he finally whispered, inhaling a deep breath in a mix of defeat and remorse before continuing. “i promise none of it was a lie; i meant every word. i really meant it when i said i adored your eyes…” 

he dry swallows a couple of times, as if doing so would suppress the sorrow lodged in his throat. his eyes darted around the room, as to not meet your own out of the unbearable guilt that simply refused to be consumed. 

the hesitation behind his subtle actions was a telltale that there was a ‘but’ hidden underneath the surface-level flattery. and with an equal amount of incertitude and delay behind your own words, alongside with a hoarse voice, you brace yourself for the moment he finally admits this so-called love of yours was nothing but an illusion.

“but?” 

“…but they’re not her eyes.” 

part 2 here.

[pandapetals]

Always

You find a photo from your childhood that sends you spiraling and Logan comforts you.

professor logan howlett x professor fem!reader - married couple, cute, fluff, banter, no y/n used, no reader description, your an english professor, logan is a history professor

read on ao3 or find more parts for the series: here

divider credit: @enchanthings

Ororo had casually mentioned wanting to borrow a pair of boots you’d worn years ago, which led to you rummaging around in your closet for over an hour. You could picture them perfectly in your mind—brown leather, worn but stylish—and you vividly remembered boxing them up and stacking them neatly with your other shoes. Or, at least, you thought you did.

Frustration began to creep in as you pulled down box after box, each one revealing everything except the boots you were looking for. A pair of strappy heels you didn’t even remember owning. A dusty pair of sneakers that should’ve been thrown out years ago. Another box filled with scarves instead of shoes.

When you reached the last box, tucked away in the farthest corner, you huffed and pulled it closer. This one felt oddly light, and when you opened it, your hands stilled. Inside wasn’t the pair of boots you’d been searching for but something you hadn’t seen in years—a collection of forgotten belongings.

There were old photos, their edges frayed and curling, buried under an assortment of trinkets: a childhood bracelet you thought you’d lost, a small drawing you’d scribbled as a kid, and a fraying ticket stub from a county fair. At the very top of the pile was a photo of you as a child, standing between your parents. The three of you were smiling like the picture-perfect family. Your dad had his arm around your mom, and she was beaming as if she didn’t have a care in the world. But you knew better.

Before you could stop yourself, you picked up the photo, your fingers trembling as the memories came rushing back. The forced smiles. The nights spent hiding under your blanket, praying your dad’s temper wouldn’t boil over. The mornings after, when your mom would quietly clean up the aftermath as if nothing had happened.

Tears blurred your vision, spilling down your cheeks before you could wipe them away. You clutched the photo to your chest, your heart twisting in a storm of conflicting emotions—grief, anger, and a longing you didn’t quite know how to name.

That’s how Logan found you—kneeling in the dim closet, surrounded by scattered shoes and open boxes, your shoulders shaking as you sobbed silently into the picture. His chest tightened at the sight, and for a moment, he just stood there, taking you in, his usual gruffness replaced by a quiet tenderness.

“Sweetheart,” Logan murmured softly, stepping into the closet and kneeling beside you. His hand was warm and steady as it settled on your back, rubbing gentle circles. “What’s goin’ on?”

You couldn’t speak at first, the lump in your throat making it impossible. You just held up the photo for him to see, your fingers curling tightly around its edges.

Logan took it, his eyes flickering over the image before settling back on you. He didn’t press, didn’t demand answers. He just waited, his quiet presence like a steady anchor in the storm.

After a moment, you managed to whisper, “It’s been years… since he died. And I still don’t know how to feel.” Your voice cracked, the weight of the confession spilling out like a flood. “He was an abusive alcoholic, Logan. He hurt me. He hurt my mom. And yet… I still miss him. How messed up is that?”

Logan’s brows furrowed, his gaze softening. He placed the photo carefully on the ground and took your trembling hands in his, his thumbs brushing over your knuckles. “It ain’t messed up,” he said quietly, his voice low and steady. “He was your dad, sweetheart. No matter what he did, part of you wanted him to be better—for you, for your mom. That hope doesn’t just go away.”

You let out a shaky breath, your tears falling harder now. “I wanted so badly to hate him. But after he died, I just couldn’t. I forgave him…and my mom…I keep wishing we could fix things, but every time I try, it just… it doesn’t work.”

Logan nodded, his expression unreadable but deeply attentive. “Your mom’s probably got her own guilt to carry,” he said after a pause. “And that’s a heavy thing to drag around. Maybe she doesn’t know how to meet you halfway. But that doesn’t mean you’re wrong for wantin’ somethin’ better.”

His words, raw and simple, cut through the noise in your head, giving shape to feelings you’d struggled to name. “How do I even start?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

Logan was quiet for a moment, his gaze dropping to your hands in his. “I don’t have all the answers,” he admitted. “But you don’t have to figure it all out at once. Sometimes… you just gotta take it one day at a time. You can’t change what’s behind you, but you can decide what’s ahead.”

You looked up at him, your eyes searching his for something—guidance, reassurance, anything. “What about your parents?” you asked hesitantly. “Do you… remember them? I know you don’t like talking about them.”

Logan’s jaw tightened slightly, his thumb still tracing slow circles on your knuckles. “Bits and pieces,” he said finally. “My dad…the man I knew as my dad…I remember him being kind. He used to take care of me when…I was sick. And my mom… she tried, but…” He trailed off, his expression distant for a moment before he looked back at you. “I don’t remember much, but I know one thing for sure. You don’t get to pick where you come from, but you can pick where you’re goin’.”

His words settled deep in your chest, like a quiet flame sparking in the dark, warming places you hadn’t realized were still cold. Without hesitation, you leaned forward and pressed a soft, lingering kiss to his knuckles—the same hands that had once brought destruction but now protected and comforted with an unmatched tenderness. You pulled back slightly, your fingers tracing along his skin.

“You’re a good man, James,” you whispered, your voice steady but full of emotion.

Logan didn’t respond right away, but his hazel eyes softened, the weight of your words sinking into him in ways he rarely allowed. His gaze held yours, brimming with something raw and unguarded, the kind of emotion he kept locked away from the world. Slowly, he reached up and brushed a tear from your cheek with a careful thumb, his touch as gentle as his expression was conflicted. It was the touch of someone who knew pain intimately but was still learning what it meant to heal.

“James,” he murmured, the name sounding foreign as it rolled off his tongue. He said it like he was testing its weight, trying to remember the man who used to wear it. “Haven’t been called that in a long time.”

“Sorry,” you said quickly, guilt creeping into your tone as you searched his face for a reaction. “I didn’t mean—”

Logan shook his head, cutting you off gently. “No,” he said, his voice low, almost thoughtful. “It’s okay. Just… feels strange. Like I don’t deserve it. That name… it feels tied to someone better than me. Someone I haven’t been in a long time.”

Your chest tightened at his words, and your hand instinctively moved to cradle his, holding it between your smaller palms. “Logan,” you began softly, your voice trembling but steadying as you went on. “You are good. You’ve proven it time and time again. You’ve protected people, cared for them—even when you didn’t think you were capable of it.”

His jaw tightened, his gaze dropping to where your hands held his, as though he couldn’t bring himself to meet your eyes. “Doesn’t feel like enough sometimes,” he admitted, his voice rough with emotion. “Every time I think I’m more than what I’ve done, more than what I’ve been… something pulls me back. Reminds me I’ve got blood on these hands.”

You shook your head, your grip on his hand tightening as your heart ached for him. “These hands—your hands—they’ve saved more lives than they’ve ever hurt. You’ve helped people find hope, find safety. You’ve helped me.” Your voice cracked slightly, and you blinked back the tears brimming in your eyes. “You’ve shown me what love can be, and I’ll remind you every day if I have to, that you’re more than enough.”

With a deep exhale, he met your gaze. “You’ve got a way of makin’ a man feel like he’s more than he is,” he murmured, a faint, almost self-deprecating smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. But the warmth in his gaze betrayed how much your words meant to him.

You smiled, leaning in closer, your fingers brushing over the rough, scarred surface of his knuckles, letting your touch linger. “Sometimes… I feel like I was made for this. To remind you of who you really are, even when you forget. You’re not the man you think you are. You’re so much more.”

Logan swallowed hard, his free hand lifting slowly to cup your cheek. His thumb grazed your skin in a gesture so gentle it made your chest ache. “I think we were made for each other,” he said quietly, his voice a low, gravelly whisper like he was confessing a secret. “You’ve shown me I’m more than what I’ve done. More than what people see. And for that… I’m grateful, darlin’. More than I’ll ever be able to put into words.”

His words wrapped around you like a soft, warm blanket, their weight settling into your heart. Tears spilled freely down your cheeks, but your smile didn’t falter. Instead, you leaned into his touch, feeling the calloused strength of his hand cradling you like something precious.

For a long moment, you sat together, the stillness of the room filled with unspoken understanding. Logan’s thumb traced tender circles along your cheekbone, his hazel eyes holding yours with a mixture of awe and gratitude.

Eventually, the corners of his mouth tugged upward into a soft, almost hesitant smile. “Why don’t you tell me something about your dad?” he murmured, his tone gentle, without expectation.

You sighed, your breath shaky as you rested your head against his shoulder. His familiar scent—woodsy and warm—wrapped around you, grounding you in the moment. “Something good or bad?” you asked quietly.

“Whatever you want, sweetheart,” he replied, his voice a soft rumble in your ear. “Doesn’t have to be good or bad. Just… tell me what comes to mind.”

You hesitated, chewing on the inside of your cheek as you stared down at your intertwined hands. His fingers dwarfed yours, but his grip was steady and reassuring as if to say he wasn’t going anywhere.

“Most people just want to hear the good stuff,” you said finally, your voice tinged with bitterness. “The kind of memories that paint him as something he wasn’t. They don’t want to know the truth… just the version of him that’s easier to love.”

Logan tilted his head slightly, brushing a strand of hair away from your face. His voice was low, steady. “You don’t have to paint him in a good light for me,” he said. “I may not have known him, but I know you. Whatever you feel, whatever you remember—that’s what matters. You don’t have to sugarcoat it.”

His words unraveled something inside you, a knot you hadn’t even realized you’d been holding onto. You exhaled slowly, the tension in your chest easing as you let your head fall more fully against his shoulder.

“I remember the way he used to sing when he was drunk,” you said after a long pause. “He had this old, off-key voice that filled the whole house. It wasn’t… joyful or sweet, though. It was more like he was trying to drown something out. Maybe his regrets. I don’t know.”

Logan stayed silent, his hand resting against your back now, rubbing soothing circles as you spoke.

“And I remember how he’d come home after losing his temper somewhere else,” you continued, your voice trembling. “I’d hear the door slam, and I’d just… freeze. Waiting. Wondering if tonight was going to be a bad night or just a quiet one.”

Logan’s jaw tightened, and though he said nothing, you could feel his silent rage at the man you were describing. But his grip on you stayed gentle, his touch never faltering.

“But,” you added, surprising yourself, “I also remember how he’d make breakfast when he wasn’t drinking. Omelettes from scratch. He’d put so much love and care into cooking. He had a real talent for it. I remember thinking those mornings were the closest we ever got to being… normal.”

Your voice cracked on the last word, and Logan’s arm tightened around you, pulling you closer against his chest. “That’s okay,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your hair. “It’s okay to remember the good and the bad. They’re both part of it.”

“I hate that I miss him sometimes,” you admitted, your voice breaking. “I hate that I can still find those little pieces of him that I loved, even after everything he did.”

Logan rested his chin on the top of your head, his warmth radiating through you. “Missing someone doesn’t mean you forgive everything, or that you forget the bad,” he said softly. “It just means you’re human. And that’s not a bad thing, sweetheart.”

You looked up at him then, your eyes glassy. “How are you so good at this?” you asked, a faint smile tugging at your lips. “You act like you’re all gruff and growly, but here you are, saying stuff like that.”

Logan chuckled, his voice deep and soothing. “Guess I’m full of surprises,” he said, tilting his head down to kiss your forehead softly. “But if I’ve got anything worth sayin’, it’s ‘cause of you.”

Your heart swelled at his words, and you tilted your face up to meet his gaze, letting yourself get lost in the tenderness you found there. “Thank you,” you whispered, the weight of your gratitude pressing against your chest. “For listening. For being here.”

He smiled faintly, his hand moving to cradle your cheek. “Always,” he said, his voice rough with emotion.

[hiramaris]

Kiss It Off Me

CHAPTER 9

Chapter Summary:

If she's second-guessing everything she ever thought was platonic and casual between the two of you, is this still casual? They should have meant nothing but it's starting to feel like there is something.

Pairings: Haley x Fem!Farmer

Disclaimer: I do not own Stardew Valley or any of the related characters. Stardew Valley is created by and owned by ConcernedApe. This fanfiction is intended for entertainment only. I am not making any profit from this story. All rights of the original Stardew Valley story belong to ConcernedApe.

Warning: None?

Notes:

I know, I know I'm such a horrible person for leaving this story hanging loose in the air. I've honestly had this chapter rotting in my drafts because I didn't have the motivation to write anymore, not to mention the lack of luxury with time. I just recently graduated as well so I was busy preparing for that back in July-October (I'm a working woman now, hooray! [Not 😔]) Nobody told me that working a 9-5 job (or more like 8-6 in my case) is going to be the end of me. That doesn't even include the 6-hour commute back to back. So as you can see, I'm dying here. I don't really have the time to sit in front of my laptop after hours of sitting in front of my company laptop 😔 I'm really sorry for the long wait, and I still can't promise an immediate update after this. This chapter serves as my apology to you guys. Hope you like it!

Fall 1

"Tell me. Are you and Y/n/n dating?"

Haley nearly choked on her food. Emily said it so casually that she wasn't prepared how to react properly.

So, as opposed to her usually calm and composed demeanor, Haley only managed to sputter a pathetic "what?" as she sat down her toast and reached for her glass of water in hopes to wash down the piece of damn bread she had swallowed accidentally without chewing it properly, courtesy of her sister.

"Are you and Y/n/n dating?" Emily repeated, unabashed and with her annoying eyes crinkling from the side, a look Haley knew all too well when Emily was trying to rise up something in her.

"No, I heard you the first time!" Haley exclaimed, her face turning red as she slammed the empty glass. "I mean–what the hell, Em?"

Emily raised an eyebrow, taking a leisurely sip of her coffee, acting like she was not actively ruining her little sister's evening right now.

"You mean to tell me you're not after your whole public display of affection on the night of the moonlight jellies?"

For a brief moment, the events flashed back on Haley's mind– your silent tears, quivering lips, Haley's arm wrapped around your waist in an almost protective, comforting way as you shared your thoughts with her for the first time since you came here. It was a casual and completely platonic thing to do.

She could vividly remember how fresh tears bested up on your eyes as a baby jellyfish separated itself from its group and went towards you, almost peering cautiously at the human before her.

It was beautiful, you said that night. The night was magical. and that only sank into you that you were no longer Joja's prisoner. You're here, in Pelican town, making a name for yourself, with townspeople who loved you and treated you as an equal. You have actual friends that care for you and most importantly, you found a home.

Was it casual for her to know all this?

"Y/n was feeling emotional at that moment. I was just trying to be her friend," she finally said after a moment of silence.

Yes, it's casual.

Emily must have noticed her pausing as she scoffed behind her toast. "Friend? I certainly don't kiss Sandy's forehead, and she's my best friend."

"Because you're doing way worse with her." Haley rolled her eyes at that. "Seriously, Em, get off my back. Y/n and I are just good friends."

"Okay, I'll get off your back if you can counter my arguments," Emily challenged, leaning forward the table with a mischievous glint in her eye.

She should say no. Emily's just giving her something else to bite on knowing fully well Haley's bound to bite more than she could chew.

Say no. There's nothing to counter because there's nothing to even argue about.

Say n–

"Yoba, fine, if that will shut you up." Damn it, Haley.

Emily's smirk grew and Haley dreaded the first thing that would come out of her hippie mouth.

"You don't kiss Alex on the forehead at all. You don't even hug him for Yoba's sake, and he's your best friend. You're going to tell me everything that's going on with Y/n is entirely platonic and casual?" Emily's expression was triumphant as she laid out her case.

Haley lets out a grin of her own. If Emily's going to lay out obvious bullshits like this then she can definitely handle whatever her sister's planning to throw at her.

"First off, Alex stinks—"

"Y/n/n's job makes her friends with dirt and sweat, no offense to her, but isn't that an ick already to you?" Emily interrupted, smirking.

"I wouldn't know what you're talking about because her hygiene is almost as impeccable as mine," Haley retorted, a smirk of her own forming as she took a defiant bite of her bacon.

"Okay... Were you practicing your answers before?" Emily narrowed her eyes at her, suspicious. "There's no way you're this prepared to counter my arguments!"

"So, I won?"

"Ah, ah... not quite, little sis." Emily stopped her from standing up. "How about the sunflower? That girl planted a whole yard of sunflowers in her yard and you mean to tell me there's nothing homosexual happening around you guys?"

"She's a farmer, duh. Of course, she's going to plant sunflowers at some point. They're pretty and very much profitable."

"Not as profitable as blueberries, corn, or cranberries. Plus, I've been there, it's almost half a hectare, it's crazy."

"You're kidding?" Haley's eyes bulged at that. She's got to admit, she did not see that bullet coming. "Last time I was there, it was just in her front yard."

"Half a hectare," her sister affirmed with that stupidly annoying knowing smirk. "You didn't see that coming, did you? Got no counter for me?"

"Shut up. If you're so curious about her lack of good strategy with her crops, you should talk to her yourself." Haley finally snapped, pushing her plate away.

She's done humoring Emily with her shits.

"Oh, I'll do just that." But it seemed her sister wasn't done with her either. "Anyway, moving on. How can you explain the holding hands?"

Haley visibly relaxed at that. She has some sensible explanation for that, one she's certain Emily wouldn't be able to counter.

"Female friends do that."

"Hmm... So if she were to hold hands with her best friend, Penny, that would be alright with you?" Well, shit.

That made her pause for the second time this evening.

"Of course," she scoffed. "As I said, it's normal for female friends to do that. It's a casual thing girls do. Nothing to bat an eye for."

Sensible explanation her ass. That wasn't even half-sensible, if at all

"I figured," Emily responded, expression turning much more serious now that it kind of made Haley even more nervous. "I just thought if she were this mushy with you, and you're just friends with her, then she's probably mushier with her best friend."

Silence.

Because what the fuck is she supposed to respond to that? This is a piece of information that hadn't crossed her mind, ever. She knows you're a sweetheart to everyone. It's as if it was second nature to you. It was a casual and completely platonic of you to do. Nothing to bat an eye for.

Nothing.

Still. She just hadn't considered the possibility of you being mushier to others.

Were you also comforting Penny the way you were comforting her?

So caring and protective that it felt like those warmth were exclusive just for her only?

She just couldn't imagine it before and now it's physically making her sick in her stomach. Was this still casual for her to even feel?

"She's pals as well with Leah, I heard they'd occasionally do sleepovers in their cabins. It's so cut–" Emily went on before finally noticing the turmoil in her sister's eyes cascading down to her hands. "Okay, what did that tissue ever do to you?"

Haley stopped, noticing the crumpled piece of tissue against her clenched fists. She looked up to Emily with a sharp glare and found her sister staring back at her, not even flinching away from her dissecting gaze. "Why are you even saying this to me?"

"Nothing. Just thought it would be best to talk to one of the possible sources. I heard from Abigail that Y/n/n just recently purchased a bouquet of flowers so I thought she might have given it to you."

Emily's sudden nonchalance at this conversation is infuriating her to a certain degree that she felt like she wanted to barge inside Clint's sorry-ass-of-a-shop and beat the living shit out of him.

Emily went on, humming casually as she piled up the dishes to wash them in the sink. "Hmm, I couldn't believe I was wrong. You were so close with her that I thought she'd give it to you. I guess she's been secretly seeing someone else then."

"She what?" Her stomach dropped.

Haley was so caught off guard at her last sentence that she couldn't help but rip the tissue on her hands. So much for that.

"It's been the talk of the town, you know? There are even bets going on but it's kind of hard to pinpoint who exactly, not when she gets along with all the bachelors and bachelorettes here. Some even bet on themselves, like Abigail. I mean, it does make sense. She and Y/n/n spent an awful lot of time on those mines."

That made Haley stand up from her seat, her form indignant. "So, you bet on me? Is this why we're having this conversation?"

"Of course, I would support my sister!" replied Emily, briefly looking behind her shoulder just in time to catch Haley scowling from where she stood. She went on, almost saying the words in a singsong voice as she continued soaking the dishes. "But if you want, I can always bet to myself. Y/n is a cute gal after all."

"I hate everything about you."

"You don't!" Emily readily chirped out behind Haley who had enough of this conversation and was already stomping her way into her room.

"Good night, Em!"

With that, she slammed the door to her room in hopes of finally ending this damn conversation. If she knew this was where it would have led, she would have bolted out the moment Emily opened her mouth.

She didn't need to know all this particularly if you hadn't even said anything else to her about this.

She scoffed. 'I thought we were close enough for her to share something like this with me. Afraid not.'

"I'm just saying, sis. Y/n/n is one of the most eligible bachelorettes in the valley. Anyone would be lucky to have her."

Emily's voice came once again just behind her door making her groan against her pillow. Hadn't she had enough?

Haley briefly considered running towards her dark room just to tune out whatever Emily was going to say but she stopped dead in her tracks when her sister's words next came through.

"There's going to be a competition. If you don't get your shit together soon, someone's bound to steal her heart. I just hate to see you getting hurt."

Was it casual for her to admit that hearing this news was already starting to hurt her?

This could mean nothing. Right?

****

Fall 2

A day of shopping in Zuzu City was just what Haley needed. While she had promised herself to tone down on hoarding clothes, she made an exception just this once. Shopping was one of her ways to cope with stress, aside from photography, but she had scratched the thought of using her camera for today because she didn't feel like spending her day wandering around town. With the bets on whom Y/n was giving the bouquet to, she knew the townspeople's eyes were hot on her trail.

The sun was beginning to set, casting a warm golden glow over the landscape when Haley stepped off the bus, her arms laden with shopping bags from her trip to the city.

She had noticed Pam looking her way since the trip began, and it didn't take a genius to figure out what the older woman wanted to hear from her. That's why when the bus pulled to a stop, Haley was quick to bolt out of the vehicle.

"Oi, kid." Haley froze at the sound of Pam's voice. So much for her plan to escape. "Haley."

"Oh." Haley whirled around, fighting back a wince at what was about to come. "Hey, Pam. What's up?"

Pam's steps were slow and deliberate as she stepped off the bus and Haley had no choice but to watch and wait expectantly for the words to finally come out.

"Are you and Farmer Y/n dating?" There it is.

Despite expecting this topic, Haley couldn't help but feel her face flush slightly under Pam's scrutinizing gaze.

"Uhm... no?"

Pam raised an eyebrow. "Why do you sound so unsure?"

Haley shifted on her feet, glancing down at her shopping bags as if they might provide an answer. "We're not dating," she said more firmly this time. "Why?"

"Good, then that scratches you off the list."

"Excuse me?" Haley's brows knitted in confusion.

"You see, kid. There have been bets going on about who Y/n will give the bouquet to. Of course, I'm putting all my beers on my little girl. She's the closest to the farmer, aside from you. So, if you weren't dating Y/n, then my Penny's definitely got a shot."

Haley blinked, taken aback. "And you're okay with that? I mean... Y/n's a girl and all..."

Pam raised an eyebrow, her expression turning serious. "I didn't know you were homophobic, kid."

"I'm not! I swear. It's just that… things are a bit different now compared to your—well, generation. I doubt my folks would be as accepting as you."

Pam's face softened slightly as she sighed. "Penny's father left us when she was really young. So, I don't wish for her to experience the same thing. Y/n's a good kid. Responsible and has a sense of direction. Far from my dead-beat husband. Penny's happy with her, and that's the only thing that matters to me. And it's not bad that the gal is well-off. I heard she was supposed to be Joja's heiress. But even so, that farm of hers is enough to provide for generations of her future family. I could never ask for more capable hands to take care of my kid than Y/n."

Haley couldn't help but tune out of this conversation. She didn't need to hear all the right reasons why Penny's the best shot for your heart. Penny's a sweetheart and all, has her heart set in the right direction, a characteristic that perfectly compliments your lifestyle.

But why does this feel like Emily stabbed her with her kitchen knife and twisted it for good measure just to spite her?

Wait... what did she just say?

"Joja?" She furrowed her eyebrows at this information. "Where'd you hear that?"

"From the mayor, but don't tell him I told you. I think it was supposed to be a secret or some shit." Pam shrugged. " Still... word gets around, you know? Small town and all. People talk. But it doesn't matter where she came from. What matters is who she is now and how she treats the people she cares about."

Haley nodded slowly, absorbing Pam's words but couldn't tell exactly why there was a lump in her throat she couldn't swallow.

"I guess you're right. Y/n's a good person. Anyone would be lucky to have her." Haley faked a smile, desperately hoping the older woman didn't catch her in her lie.

Pam smiled, her stern demeanor softening. "Exactly. So, if you're not interested, that's fine. But just know that I know when people are bullshitting me. I know, I know it's not any of my business. But if you really do happen to have something going on with the farmer, get your shit together soon."

"I'll..." She didn't know it was possible to have the lump in her throat grow even more, she could feel a twinge of something else she couldn't quite identify. "I'll take note of that. Thanks for the chat, Pam. I'll see you around."

"Likewise, kid," Pam replied, waving as she climbed back onto the bus. "Oh, and Haley?"

"Hmm?"

"You know what you feel, don't let fear stop you from following your heart, or else you'll spend the rest of your life wishing you had."

When even other people can point out how non-platonic and far from casual the things you and she do are, is it still casual now?

****

Fall 9

It's been an excruciating week of being asked if she was dating Y/n, and it's starting to get on Haley's nerves. Not because she was entirely opposed to the idea, but because she knew it wasn't even her to begin with, and she didn't need everyone rubbing salt in her wound every minute and every second of every damn day.

She didn't need to hear Abigail bragging to Sebastian and Sam that any day now, she'd be receiving the same bouquet she had arranged that you bought from Pierre, and how ironic it would be if she were to receive them, and how she wasn't actually opposed to the idea.

"I haven't really considered that I could possibly like a girl, but hey, it's Y/n. I'm not complaining. If she were to give me the flowers, I'd say yes in a heartbeat," she had even said. That's all Haley needed to hear to decide she wasn't in the mood to shop right now at Pierre's if she was going to hear bullshits like that.

She also didn't need to hear any sort of development you have with Penny. She didn't need to know you went with her to Zuzu to buy some school supplies for the kids on Penny's birthday. She didn't need to hear you gave the teacher and her students a tour of your farm.

She didn't need to hear any of it.

Because how in Yoba's name had she not considered your growing friendship with the redhead?

"Miss Y/n? I have a question," Haley heard one day from behind the trees by Cindersap Lake. She lowered her camera from her eyes when she recognized Jas' voice followed by yours.

"What is it, Jas?"

"You're from the city, right? How do you court someone there?"

She heard you chuckle. "Well... We go on dates, walk our dates back to their door, and then... That's when our date will decide if they still want to see us for our next date."

You paused, and Haley thought that was it, but the next words you uttered almost made her pack up her equipment and go home.

"And if we're worthy of being kissed."

"Y/n!" came Penny's scandalized gasp. "They're kids. They don't need to hear that!"

"Right, right... Sorry, Pen!"

"Ohhh." That's Vincent. "So, are you like courting Miss Penny since you're walking her home, too?"

"Vincent!" Penny scolded, sounding almost aghast at her student's blunt question.

Haley could only allow herself to breathe when you finally answered Sam's brother.

"Haha, we're walking Jas home together, remember? If anything, it seems you were the one courting her since you wanted to come with us to walk her home," you teased him.

"Ew! I don't want Vincent to court me!"

"Hey! What's wrong with me?"

"You're too childish like your brother! No wonder Miss Penny turned down Mister Sam. I bet you she likes someone like Miss Y/n. I know I would."

"Hey!" yelled Vincent, obviously offended.

"Okay, that's enough kids," admonished Penny, and Haley could only imagine the horror on her face at Jas' comment. "It's not good to gossip, Jas, and it's not polite to ask adults things like that, Vincent."

"Alright, Miss Penny. I'm getting inside. Thank you for walking me home," Jas replied, her tone still somewhat defiant.

"Bye, Jas!" you called after her, followed by the sound of Vincent sniffling. "Hey now, little dude... don't be upset. I'm sure Jas was only joking."

"I don't understand why she needs to be mean. Am I not likable?" Vincent's voice wavered.

Haley dared to take a peek behind the bushes. She watched as you knelt down to be at eye level with Vincent, your smile as warm as the setting sun.

"Anyone can be likable to a certain someone. Like you," you said, ruffling his hair. "But we can't really force someone to like us the way we want, you know?"

"But... are you just going to accept they don't like you even though you're nice?" Vincent asked, his voice tinged with confusion.

You chuckled softly, briefly looking up to meet Penny's eyes, which had been fixed on you with such fondness that it tightened the knot in Haley's stomach.

"Well... I didn't say you have to give up. Sometimes people say mean things to protect themselves. You just have to be patient, and I'm sure they'll come around eventually," you explained gently.

Vincent nodded, his big brown eyes hanging on to every word you said.

"But..." you continued, "if this person has made it clear they don't like you, then you have to accept their boundaries, okay?"

"Eh..." He pouted. "I don't get it. Adulting is so confusing."

You barked out a laugh. "Don't worry, you have plenty of time to grow up, buddy."

Vincent's expression brightened a bit at your words. "Okay, I'll try to remember that."

"That's the spirit," you said, giving him a reassuring pat on the shoulder.

Penny smiled, her eyes softening as she looked at you. "Thank you, Y/n. You're really good with them."

"Thanks, Penny," you replied, standing up and stretching. "They're good kids. Just need a little guidance sometimes."

"Are you feeling any better now, Vincent?" Penny asked gently. "Don't take Jas' words to heart, okay?"

"Uh-huh! I'm feeling a little better, Miss Penny! But... could Miss Y/n carry me until we get home? I'm..." He yawned. "I'm a little tired."

"Uhm, I don't think..."

"... alrighty then, let's get this little guy home as well," Haley could hear you grunt, and she could only imagine you carrying the sleepy Vincent in your arms.

"Your farm's right there, Y/n/n." Penny pointed out gently. "I can walk Vincent home. You don't have to make a detour."

"Nonsense, a little walk isn't going to kill me. Plus, I want to walk you home as well."

The redhead giggled softly. "I wasn't informed you were courting me."

"Oh, really now? I wasn't informed either," you joked, and Haley could feel herself dying a little on the inside.

****

Was it casual when you gave her daffodils every chance you could get when you barely even knew her?

Was it casual for you to have a daily mandatory breakfast with the Carter siblings?

Was it casual when you gave Haley her favorite gift on her birthday even though coconuts aren't something you can just spawn at hand when you need them to?

Was it casual that you managed to pay attention enough to actually know what her favorites are?

When you were drunk and Haley made her way outside to get you, in a greasy saloon of all places, even though she's not yet finished with her skincare, was it casual now?

Was it casual when you called her babe while you were drunk?

Was it casual when you declared you'd only allow yourself to be this close to her is in the reality you created in your dreams?

When she stayed at your place, took care of you, and cleaned your vomit-stained shirt and mattress, was it casual now?

Was it casual when you avoided her for four days because you thought you ruined her pampering day?

When she started minimizing her makeup because you told her once she's pretty even without them, was it casual?

When Haley was upset at the thought you'd be dancing with someone else, was it casual now?

Was it casual when you assured her you didn't want to dance with anyone but her?

When Haley, for once, didn't think about winning the flower dance and was focused on your endearing smile and relaxing embrace, was it casual now?

Was it casual when you were bloody and wet from the rain and the first thing you thought was knocking on her door?

When she could only focus on your wounds rather than your dirt-stained body staining the carpet, was it casual?

When Haley tried her hardest to treat your wounds despite fearing the sight of blood, was it casual now?

Was it casual when you almost died to get her a gift just because you thought she'd find them pretty enough to be the subject of her camera?

When Haley kissed your forehead the same way her grandmother used to do on her to kiss the pain away, was it casual?

When Haley forced you to take her bed because she couldn't bear to let your injured self sleep uncomfortably on the couch, was it still casual?

Was it casual when the first thing you thought upon waking up was to let Haley sleep on her bed because you didn't want her to suffer any back pain from her sleeping position on the foot of the bed even though you're injured yourself?

When Haley thought you hated her for the poisonous words she spouted on you that night and hated herself for it, was it casual now?

Was it casual when you tried your hardest to find her great grandma's bracelet because you couldn't bear to see her so upset despite your injuries?

Was it casual when you crafted a bouquet of sunflowers to make up for giving her a hated gift?

Was it casual when you planted a whole yard of sunflowers on your farm when Haley mentioned in passing that she loves them?

Was it casual when you helped her with her shopping bags even though you were obviously going somewhere else?

Was it casual for you and her to walk in the town, hand in hand? It could mean nothing.

When Haley's view of success was you beside her, was it casual?

When Haley couldn't handle the feeling of disappointing you, was it casual?

Was it casual of you to magically appear whenever she needs you?

Was it casual of you to be her number-one supporter in everything when she couldn't even believe in herself?

Was it casual when you made it your personal mission to keep her happy no matter what?

Was it casual when you made sure that no dirt could touch her not when you're around because you know how much she hated getting dirty?

When Haley no longer minds the feeling and smell of dirt, especially when you're around, was it still casual now?

Was it casual when you modeled for her despite hating modeling itself because Haley needed some new variations for her photography?

When Haley tried to conquer her fear of the ocean because she saw you once having fun with Leah swimming along the shore, was it casual?

Was it casual when you helped her conquer this fear even though you had plans for the day?

If she's second-guessing everything she ever thought was platonic and casual between the two of you, is this still casual?

They should have meant nothing but it's starting to feel like there is something.

****

The general store was quieter than usual that afternoon, with only a couple of customers browsing the shelves and the faint hum of Pierre’s old radio playing a static-filled tune in the background. Haley placed her basket of groceries on the counter with an air of casual confidence, her hair shimmering under the warm glow of the store's lights as if she had just stepped out of a magazine.

"There's my favorite blonde," Pierre greeted her with a grin, his tone far too cheerful to pass as entirely neutral. He adjusted his glasses as he began unpacking her items. "You got everything you need?"

Haley offered a small, polite smile, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. "I would appreciate it though if you restocked your peppermint coffee. Winter's coming soon, and I need my coffee to survive the whole season."

Pierre chuckled, nodding as he scribbled something on a notepad beside the register. "I'll keep note of that."

The rhythmic beep of the scanner broke the silence, but Pierre seemed to drag out the process, deliberately slow with each item. Haley tilted her head, pretending to examine the jars of preserves on a nearby shelf, though her curiosity flickered with each stolen glance Pierre gave her from behind the counter.

Her patience thinned as the seconds stretched on. She crossed her arms and finally turned back to him, narrowing her eyes. "What?" she asked, her voice sharp enough to slice through his act.

Pierre blinked, his hand pausing mid-air with a can of soup. "What, what?" he asked, his tone layered with faux innocence.

Haley raised an eyebrow, her expression shifting into one of exasperated suspicion. "Nothing. It's just... you looked like you wanted to say something."

Pierre hesitated, scratching the back of his neck as a sheepish grin spread across his face. "Has farmer Y/n told you who she gave the bouquet to?"

Her lips pressed into a thin line. "Is this about the bet?"

"Sort of," Pierre admitted, lifting his hands in mock surrender. "Come on, I gave Gus five grand. I just know my daughter caught her eye. Why else would Y/n be here every other day just to give Abigail her weird collection of stones?"

Haley rolled her eyes so hard it felt like they might stay that way. "First off, it's none of your business. Secondly, even if I did know, I'm not about to spill it to the entire town."

Pierre's grin faltered slightly, but his persistence didn’t waver. "I get it." He sighed dramatically as he began to load her bag, though his eyes darted toward her with a flicker of mischief. "She gave it to you, didn’t she? I mean, it makes total sense."

Her irritation bubbled just beneath the surface as she prepared to unleash a sharp retort, each word she'd make sure colorful enough to crush Pierre's so-called pride.

Her fingers curled slightly around the edge of the counter, her nails digging into the wood as her lips parted to speak.

But then it happened—before she could form a single syllable, the distinct scent of freshly cut grass and minted soap filled her senses. Haley froze, the small hairs on the back of her neck standing on end as warmth radiated from the figure now standing just behind her.

"Hey there, doll," your voice was soft, low, and entirely too close for her comfort—or rather, for her ability to maintain composure. Haley could feel the faint brush of your breath against her skin, and she clenched her jaw to stifle a gasp.

Pierre perked up, his eyes sparkling with newfound interest as he set the last of Haley’s items into her bag. "Well, speak of the devil," he quipped with a knowing smirk, crossing his arms. "The farmer of the hour. What brings you here, Y/n?"

"Oh, I'm just out to get Haley," you replied smoothly, your tone casual as if you weren’t practically pressed against Haley’s back. You leaned slightly to the side, catching her narrowed gaze as she turned her head just enough to glance at you. "Emily told me she'll be here."

Haley’s lips twitched, fighting to suppress the blush creeping up her cheeks. "Do you mind?" she asked through gritted teeth, her voice laced with a mix of exasperation and something she refused to name.

She instinctively took a step forward, creating a thin barrier of space between the two of you. The distance was barely anything, but it felt monumental to her frayed nerves. You noticed it, of course—you noticed everything, just as you’d noticed her avoiding you the past few days. She’d orchestrated this whole "not a date" movie outing at your farm a while back before she started this shindig of avoiding you, and yet here she was, cornered by her own choices. She knew you'd confront her eventually; she just hadn't expected it to happen so soon.

Damn you, Emily. Haley cursed internally. Her sister's meddling defies the bound of the universe.

"Oh! Out for a date, I see," Pierre chimed in, his tone laced with playful curiosity. His eyes darted between the two of you, a knowing smirk playing on his lips.

Haley's pulse quickened, and she forced herself to remain calm. She looked at you, waiting—no, daring you to deny it. Say something, she thought. Deny it. Deflect. Anything.

Your eyebrows shot up, disappearing behind your bangs as you opened your mouth, undoubtedly preparing to clarify the situation. But before a single word could escape, the bell above the door jingled sharply, drawing all attention to the entrance.

Morris stepped inside, his smug face immediately souring the air. His presence was an unwelcome shadow, sharp and intrusive, like nails on a chalkboard.

Haley caught the subtle change in your demeanor, a storm cloud rolling across your features. You muttered a string of profanities under your breath, quiet enough that most wouldn't catch it. But Haley was close—too close—and every word hit her ears like a sharp note.

It startled her; you rarely, if ever, swore in her company.

The tension in your frame said everything she needed to know. Your clenched jaw, the way your hand flexed and then balled into a fist by your side, all screamed one thing: you loathed the man in front of you.

Haley felt her blood begin to boil, mirroring your intensity. You’d never told her exactly what had happened during your time with Joja, but the bitterness in your expression now, the way your muscles coiled like you were ready to fight, painted a vivid enough picture. That, and the sight of Morris’s condescending grin, was enough to make her want to deck the man herself.

"Miss Y/n!" Morris's oily voice filled the space, louder than necessary. "What a pleasant surprise! I finally got ahold of you." His gaze flicked briefly to Haley, dismissing her with barely a glance before returning to you. "When my employee Shane told me the new farmer who’d taken over the rundown farm was named Y/n, I didn’t think it was you at first."

Haley's fists clenched around her grocery bag. Her heart thudded with protective anger, but she said nothing, instead glancing at you from the corner of her eye. The slight twitch in your brow, the way your jaw tightened, and the stiffness in your stance spoke volumes. You were trying to keep calm, but Haley knew it was taking everything in you not to snap.

"Folks kept talking about a lovely farm you've got there," Morris continued, clearly not picking up on the warning signs. Or maybe he simply didn’t care. "Imagine my surprise when I found out you’d gone from our... employee of the month to a simple farmer in the middle of nowhere."

You took a deep breath through your nose, the air between you practically crackling with suppressed emotion. When you finally spoke, your voice was calm—too calm. The kind of calm that preceded a storm.

"Morris," you said curtly, your tone colder than Haley had ever heard it. "Piss off."

Haley's eyes widened slightly at your words. She'd never heard you speak like that before, not even when you were angry. There was venom in your tone, something raw and unfiltered.

"My, my... what foul words you have there, miss," Morris said, raising a hand to cover his mouth in mock disbelief, though his smirk betrayed his true intent. "Anyhow," he continued, his voice oozing false geniality, "I received a call from your mother stating that you had AWOL'ed from your job and left the city. This only spurred me to seek out the new farmer in town with the same name as you. It couldn’t have been a coincidence, right?"

Your jaw clenched, and your knuckles turned white as your nails dug into your palm. Haley could feel the tension radiating off of you like heat from a furnace. "Shut up," you hissed, your tone low but charged.

"But you were sleek," Morris went on, as if he hadn’t heard you—or more likely, chose to ignore you. "For months I tried to get a sight of you. It should have been easy, given how small this town is, but I never caught even a glimpse of you. Tell me, were you avoiding Joja on purpose?"

Haley's stomach churned as she watched you struggle to keep your composure. She'd never seen you like this—on edge, restrained, a storm barely contained behind your eyes.

"I don’t want anything to do with Joja," you spat, your voice trembling slightly, not with fear, but with the effort it took to hold yourself back. "And I don’t want anything to do with my mother. I left Joja for good, and I have no desire to take over that hell of a company."

"Joja needs its heir, Miss Y/n. No matter how far you run, Joja will always be one step behind you." He leaned in slightly, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "I’ve already informed your mother of your presence here in Pelican Town, and she is beyond displeased."

Haley saw your breath hitch, your shoulders stiffening as Morris’s words hit their mark.

"You’re wasting your time," you bit out, your voice quieter now, but no less fierce. "I’m not going back, and there’s nothing she—or Joja—can do to change that."

Morris chuckled, a low, condescending sound that made Haley’s skin crawl. His smirk widened, and he tilted his head in mock pity. "Oh, Miss Y/n, you underestimate Joja’s reach. This quaint little farm life of yours is nothing but a detour. We both know that."

Your fists clenched at your sides, trembling slightly, not out of weakness, but from the sheer force of holding yourself together. Your breath came out unsteady, the weight of his words pressing down like an iron vice.

"I don’t care," you spat, your voice cracking under the strain of bottled-up frustration. "I’ve spent blood, sweat, and tears on my grandpa’s farm—making it thrive, grow, and function all on its own. Every single effort I’ve made here has been worth something. Something the company never gave me."

Haley froze, her eyes darting to you. There was a rawness in your voice she wasn’t prepared for, an unguarded glimpse into a part of you she’d never seen.

"Even if I tried—even if I died trying—my mother would never be satisfied with my work," you continued, your voice rising with every word, trembling with pent-up anguish. "So how dare she? How dare she say she’s disappointed in me, like I’m supposed to care, when that’s the only thing she’s ever felt at the very sight of me?"

Morris let out a low hum, his fingers tapping idly against the counter. "Joja is all about hard work, Miss Y/n. Maybe she just hasn’t seen it on you?" His tone was measured, almost bored, but his words were like a needle aimed directly at the cracks in your armor.

You let out a sharp, bitter laugh, the sound harsh and devoid of humor. Haley flinched at the sound, her heart clenching as she watched you unravel.

"Hard work?" you echoed, your voice dripping with venom. "Hard work means nothing to Joja. It doesn’t matter how much I gave, how much of myself I sacrificed, it was never enough. It was never going to be enough."

Morris raised an eyebrow, as if amused by your outburst. "Look," he said with an air of condescension, "the missus, as much as she is strict and calculated, is only doing this to ensure you’re capable of handling the company once she steps down as CEO. Surely, you must be aware of that?"

Haley could see the way your shoulders stiffened, your lips pressing into a tight line, and your chest rising and falling as you struggled to control your breathing. She knew that Morris’s words had struck a nerve, and her patience finally snapped when she saw the flicker of doubt in your eyes.

"She doesn’t care about me being capable," you said quietly, each word laced with bitterness. "She only cares about molding me into her image. Into something I’m not—and something I never want to be."

Haley stepped forward without hesitation, planting herself firmly between you and Morris, her eyes blazing with a fury that caught everyone off guard.

"Sorry to intrude," she began sharply, her tone like ice, "but have you even seen Y/n’s farm? That place was a dump before she came here, and now it’s practically a well-oiled machine. Her farm has boosted this town’s economy more than you and Pierre’s businesses combined. And you know why?" Haley tilted her head, her voice turning venomous. "Because of Y/n’s dedication and hard work. So don’t you dare stand there and act like you have the right to judge who’s ‘working hard’ when you couldn’t lift a finger to do it yourself."

Morris’s smug expression faltered for the first time, but he quickly recovered, his smirk widening as he saw an opportunity to strike back. "Ah, I see what’s going on here," he drawled, his tone dripping with condescension. "If you really want your fair share of Joja’s wealth, you should convince your girlfriend here to come back to Zuzu City and manage the company like the true Joja she is." His eyes gleamed maliciously. "Though I doubt the missus would approve of this... kind of relationship."

Your body moved before your mind could catch up. Stepping forward, you shoved Morris back a step, your voice low and dangerous. "Fuck off. You don’t get to disrespect her like that."

Morris’s smugness wavered, but he tried to rally. "But I—"

"I don’t want to hear another word from you," you snapped, your tone brooking no argument. "Leave. Now."

Morris opened his mouth to retort, but Haley cut him off, her glare sharper than a knife. "You heard her. Get lost."

Morris huffed, his composure cracking slightly. "Hmph. I’m not leaving until I distribute my 50%-off Joja coupons to these fine customers." He raised his voice, addressing the room. "Anyone who wants a discount, feel free to take one from me."

Before the murmurs could start, you turned sharply to Pierre. "No one moves a foot," you commanded, your voice firm and unyielding. "Pierre."

"H-huh?" Pierre stammered, clearly caught off guard.

"Everyone shopping here right now—everything in their carts, ring it up. Put it on my tab," you said decisively. "I don’t care how much it costs. I’ll stop by later to settle the bill."

Pierre blinked, stunned, before nodding quickly. "O-okay. Got it."

You turned back to Morris, your voice colder than ice. "No one here wants your fucking coupons. Get the hell out."

Morris narrowed his eyes, clearly frustrated but unable to retaliate effectively. "You can’t pay for their tabs forever, Miss Y/n," he sneered. "Not with the little money your farm is making."

A smirk tugged at your lips, sharp and defiant. "You haven’t seen the progress of my farm, have you?" you asked, your voice filled with quiet triumph. "Don’t worry, I’ll make sure you never do. By the end of the year, the community center will be fully restored, and Joja—" you jabbed a finger toward him, "Joja will never taint this town again."

Morris’s face darkened, but he said nothing as you turned to Pierre and motioned to the grocery bag you took from Haley. "Please ring this up as well, Pierre."

****

"Y/n... are you okay?" Haley's voice was soft, tentative, her usual sharpness dulled by concern.

You didn’t meet her eyes, your voice steady but distant. "I’ll walk you home, and then I’ll get going. I need to be alone for a while."

Haley hesitated, searching your face for something—anything—that would let her help. But all she found was a wall she couldn’t push past. "Oh... okay," she murmured.

****

The walk to her house was quiet, the air between you heavy with unspoken words. When you reached her door, Haley turned, her expression uncertain. "It’s only a raincheck, right?" she asked, her voice almost hopeful. "You’re not canceling our movie night?"

You gave her a small, tired smile, though it didn’t quite reach your eyes. "Hmm. Maybe we can do it tomorrow instead."

Haley nodded slowly, watching as you turned to leave. "I’ll see you later, Y/n," she called softly, her voice lingering in the quiet night.

You didn’t look back, but you lifted a hand in acknowledgment before disappearing into the shadows. Haley watched you go, her chest tight with a mix of worry and something else she couldn’t quite name.

****

After you had dropped her off at her home, she moved quickly towards her kitchen, her movements deliberate as she retrieved a well-worn piece of paper. A single recipe sat tucked away for ages, something she hadn’t thought she’d use anytime soon. Yet, here she was, baking in autopilot, determined to bring you something that might make the silence a little more bearable.

It only sank in for Haley that you might have been serious about wanting to be alone for a moment when you opened the door to your farm after she knocked.

Well... No going back now.

"Hey..." she greeted hesitantly, her voice soft and uncertain. "I know you said you wanted to be alone, but I just... I thought it would be unfair that you're always there for me when I need you, and I left you alone just because you asked me to."

You didn’t speak immediately. The silence between you stretched, heavy with unspoken thoughts. For a moment, Haley worried she had crossed a line, overstepped some boundary. But before she could apologize, you offered her a faint, weak smile—a small curve of your lips, almost imperceptible, but a smile nonetheless.

"Are those cookies...?" you asked softly, your eyes landing on the tray she held out.

"Granny Evelyn's secret recipe. Freshly baked from the oven." Haley’s voice was gentle, almost a whisper. "Thought this might cheer you up."

You took a slow breath, the air between you carrying a quiet weight.

"Of course, you’re always welcome here, silly, with or without cookies," you said softly, pulling back just enough to look into her eyes.

"You say that but wait until you have a taste in them first," she teased, a small smile playing on her lips.

"I'm sure they'll taste delicious. Come," you urged, motioning her inside. "It's freezing outside."

"Thanks," she murmured, stepping past you into the warmth of the house.

"These your stuff?" you asked, noticing the bags she struggled to carry. "You should have called me so I could have helped you bring them here. It must have been a tough walk from your home."

"Yeah... sorry, I know it's a lot. Had to bring my skincare, you know?" she replied with a sheepish smile, setting the bags down on the worn wooden floor.

"Heh, if I didn't know you any better, I’d think you were moving in," you joked, giving her a playful nudge.

"Shut up, goof."

"Now, now... I didn’t say I was exactly opposed to the idea, m'lady," you continued, a grin tugging at your lips. "I would love it actually. It’s getting kind of lonely in here, you know? Sometimes I even question myself why I asked Robin to renovate the house this big when I’m all by myself."

"What? So you're saying you wanted me to stay here?"

"Would it be so bad?" you asked with a playful shrug.

"Perhaps? Especially if you're supposed to be saying these sappy things to your girlfriend." Haley's tone was teasing, but her smile faltered slightly as she added, "Yoba... I just realized. Penny won't be mad if I stayed the night, right? Or would she?"

"Huh? Why would she?" you asked, confused.

"Isn't she—" Haley began as she walked towards your room.

"Wait, Haley—" you called after her, a hint of worry in your voice, but it was too late.

"Oh..." Haley paused at the sight that greeted her eyes—bouquets placed carefully on your bed, sunflowers nestled in among them. You were arranging them yourself, the soft glow from the bedside lamp casting a warm light on the delicate petals.

It took a moment for Haley to gather her thoughts. Her mind raced a thousand miles per hour, processing what she saw and the implications behind it.

"I thought you'd given Penny the—the uhm..." she began hesitantly.

"The bouquet?" you finished, your voice quiet. "What made you think so? And how'd you even know I have a bouquet?"

"I think what you mean is 'who else didn't know you'd bought a bouquet'," she replied, a sly smile creeping onto her face.

"Damn it, Pierre." You ran a hand through your hair, cursing under your breath. "Shit— you aren't supposed to see all these."

"I bought this days ago and I couldn't find the guts to give it to you. I guess I was waiting for the perfect timing or maybe I was chickening out. Shit, I don't really know..." you murmured, your voice shaky as you ruffled your hair anxiously. "All I know is the flowers dried out because I was a coward, and now I was planning to spend the whole night replacing the flowers with sunflowers instead of having our movie night because I'm mentally and emotionally unable to think straight because of what happened with Morris earlier, and now I'm babbling this to you like a fool and—"

You sighed heavily as you walked toward the edge of the bed, keeping your gaze firmly away from her. The bouquet lay forgotten on the bedspread, the sunflowers blending with the faded, dried-out petals of the original flowers.

"Breathe, Y/n." Haley’s voice was soft and soothing, her expression gentle as she stepped closer, her eyes warm and understanding. "It’s just me."

"Breathe... I can do that," you said, taking a slow breath and closing your eyes for a moment to collect yourself.

"Now..." Haley continued, a teasing smile playing at her lips, "Can you clarify the part about who you were planning to give the bouquet to because I’m a bit slow and I’m going to have to assume it’s me if you don’t."

"It's for you," you finally confessed, your voice barely a whisper. "I thought the sunflower already gave it away?"

"I..." Haley’s brows furrowed slightly, her voice softening as her expression turned thoughtful. "I thought you liked someone else..."

"And I thought I was pretty obvious," you said, a faint smile tugging at your lips.

"You probably would have if I hadn't seen you treating others the same way you do to me," Haley said, her arms crossed tightly over her chest. Her expression was thoughtful, but there was a hint of uncertainty behind her eyes. "I don't really want to assume."

"But I don’t treat others the same way I treat you," you replied gently, your voice calm and steady.

"Giving favored gifts to every possible living thing you can see, walking Penny home, exploring mines with Abigail, painting with Leah..." Haley paused, glaring at you with a raised brow when she noticed the corner of your mouth twitch into a sly grin. "Do you honestly want me to continue the list?"

"No, no need. I got the message," you said with a soft chuckle, shaking your head as you stepped closer to her. You reached out slowly, taking her hands in yours with a tenderness that spoke volumes. Your thumb brushed gently against her knuckles, grounding the moment in a sense of intimacy that neither of you could ignore.

As your touch lingered, Haley’s breath hitched for a moment, and the rapid beating in her heart began to slow. What was once chaotic and unsure began to calm down, her mind finding clarity amidst the confusion.

"But for you... everything is complex," you continued, your voice steady, eyes locked onto hers. There was a sincerity in your gaze, a vulnerability in your words that couldn’t be dismissed. "And I don’t mean it as a bad thing. You made me second-guess everything I do. I was afraid I was being too obvious because I was doing too much. I was afraid that what I was doing bypassed everything I thought should be normal between friends. I was scared I was doing too much that I might scare you away."

Haley let out a soft, watery laugh, a quiet chuckle that broke through the tension between you both. She shook her head lightly, realizing you were both overthinking the same thing all along.

"So yeah... everything I did, everything I said from the start—it was never casual," you finished, your voice gentle but unwavering. "Simply because I like you, Haley. I’ve liked you for a long time."

There was a long, charged pause. It probably felt like an eternity to you, but it could’ve only been a minute or two—maybe more. You weren’t sure anymore. If the roles were reversed, if Haley were in your place, she would’ve bolted in embarrassment, rushing back to her home to cry her heart out the moment you didn’t respond to her confession.

But this is you. You have always been patient. You still wore the same loving face the moment you started your confession and the moment you let out the last word. Nevermind your face is in a deep shade of red.

"You..." she breathed out, her voice barely above a whisper. "You fucking idiot!"

"Huh?" you managed, taken aback by the sudden outburst.

Before you could process what was happening, her fists slammed hard against your chest. The force wasn’t enough to cause real pain, but the impact was enough to send a slight jolt through you. You wheezed softly between bursts of laughter, breath escaping in short bursts as she continued her assault.

"You liked me all this time and you didn’t say it earlier?!" she demanded, her voice rising with each word.

You let out another laugh, struggling for air as her fists smacked your chest again. At this point, it wasn’t about the physical impact—it was the sheer force of emotion behind it.

You must have had enough with Haley's fists dealing little to no damage on your ribcage because the moment she lifted her hands to strike again, you caught them gently in yours and leaned down to capture her lips, silencing the stream of profanities leaving her mouth.

When your lips finally parted, a brief, lingering pause stretched between you both, the air thick with emotions you both hadn't fully acknowledged yet.

"You could have said you liked me, y'know? No need to hit me." You said softly, a teasing smile playing on your lips as you pulled back.

"I hate you," she grumbled, her expression softening despite the harsh words. Her gaze lowered, a faint blush creeping up her cheeks as the embarrassment of her outburst settled in.

"You don’t." You sounded far too smug, watching her squirm just a bit. "Emily said so."

Haley’s brow furrowed deeply as the realization dawned. Her lips parted slightly, and her eyes narrowed in disbelief. She thought back to that conversation, recalling her sister’s confident assurance. "You know about the bet all this time?!"

"Yup." Your grin widened.

She stared at you, her expression a mix of incredulity and irritation. "You asked my sister if you have a chance with me, didn’t you?"

You smirked but remained silent, letting the unspoken answer hang in the air.

"Good Yoba… Why did I have to like such an idiot dork." She huffed, puffing out a breath as her frustration began to give way to amusement. Her lips twitched into a small smile despite herself. "Come here and let me wipe that stupid smirk from your face."

"You'll do that by?"

Her eyes rolled again, but the playful edge remained as she replied with a small, amused grin. "By kissing it off you, what else?"

~~~~~~

taglist:

@joordynn

@taliiiaasteria

@iluvwomen01

@tekanparadiae

@slug-on-bike

@prlan

@mit-suri

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[sossolei]

how i shifted realities accidentally on purpose .☘︎ ܁˖

“What does this even mean?” You may be asking yourself. Well, buckle the hell up because I’m still understanding it myself.

If you’ve never seen me before my introduction post is pinned, there I give an insight on myself and a little bit of my spiritual journey. In it I mentioned that the first time I shifted was random but completely purpose at the same time. Here I will explain how:

When I was around 17 going on 18, I came across a TikTok about a woman talking about this very specific manifesting method that completely altered her life in such a small way she didn’t realize for 6 years. To sum it up, she did this manifestion ritual for something I don’t remember and afterwards thought nothing of it, but then 6 years later she was catching up with an old friend and in their conversations she had mentioned a trip they went on together overseas 2 years prior. Her old friend had absolutely no clue what she was talking about. The woman tried to jog their memory but the friend said the two of them hadn’t seen each other in 6 years, so OP asked her mother if she remembered the two of them taking a trip and her mother said the same thing as the friend. Then OP remembered the manifesting ritual she did and realized that everything people had been saying about it was true and it had altered such a small thing in her life that she didn’t even realize until now.

So, me being 17 and absolutely dyinggg to go shift realities, I read through a couple comments, watched other videos and did a quick Reddit search and they all pretty much said the same thing about how powerful the ritual is, but to be careful because it’ll alter things in your reality.

I did not give a damn about any of those warnings.

Not the best thing to do in hindsight but 🥸oh well.

So I did the manifestion ritual ( im gonna explain it later because I genuinely cannot remember the name of it but I sort of remember what I did so if anyone knows what I’m talking ab, pls enlighten me ) and afterwards I didn’t rlly think about it. I should also mention I was specific with what I wrote down because I ( thought ) know how the universe acts when you don’t spell everything out word for word lmao.

Now this is where you have to hold my hand cause this is going to sound so stupid right now but trust me it matters:

My whole life I’ve had a mole on my LEFT hand middle finger. I love her. I show it off to anyone I get the chance to show it off to. Why? I don’t know, I’ve genuinely just always shown people this mole just because I like it.

The summer of the end of high school, going onto college, I had a lil fling with a guy and again, I showed him the mole on my left hand middle finger. I vividly remember doing this because I do it to everyone.

Then in college around November - December, I get my first ever boyfriend ( not the same guy ). One day we’re hanging out and we’re talking about moles (?) and I instinctively hold out my RIGHT hand to show him the mole on middle finger and…there it is. On my right middle finger. I kid you not, in that exact moment I literally said, “huh, I thought this was on my left hand.” I look at my left hand and there’s no mole??? I brushed that off but when I went back to my dorm, I legit stared at my hands in confusion at how the fuck my mole switched sides.

MIND YOU it’s the exact same mole. Like it looks the exact same, there’s nothing different about the color or shape, it’s just…on the opposite hand???

But since I had absolutely no explanation for it, I just moved on 🤷🏽‍♀️

Life went on, both of my sisters got pregnant early in the year so we were prepping all things baby related whenever I came back to visit. During one of these breaks, my sister is showing me everything she got from her baby shower and one of those things is a bottle warmer. I told her I think a bottle warmer is kinda stupid when you can just use the microwave, especially with how expensive bottle warmers are. And she said to me “yeah why you do you think I’m not buying it with my own money?” You got that? Okay.

The relationship went on as well, and outwardly, the guy was everything I thought I wanted. Nothing against him but he was like the embodiment of everything I read on wattpad growing up and thought was sooo cute. Ex; He was mean to everybody but me, I thought this was so fun and dandy. Anyways, I gradually started to lose interest in astrology, tarot, shifting, manifesting, literally EVERYTHING. So much so to the point where I started to feel crazy because I felt like I was trying to fit into a mold for this guy that isn’t who I am??

But low and behold, THE DAY AFTER we break up, I get the strongest urge to do tarot. Over time I started to find myself in everything I loved and still love to this day.

HERE IS WHERE WE GET TO THE SHIFTING PART

During the summer of 2024, I’m brushing my teeth in my house when I randomly just look down at my left hand middle finger….and there’s no mole. I look at my right hand and what would you know, THE MOLE IS BACK.

I genuinely gasped in the moment and looked at both of my hands side by side to make sure I was seeing everything right. This sent me down a SPIRAL, I legit replayed every interaction I ever had trying to decipher whether or not I was crazy because okay, mole switching sides ONE time is something I can ignore, BUT TWICE??? You must thing I’m stupid.

Then I remember the manifestion ritual that I did soooo fucking long ago by that point. I remember all the stories people had about how small things changed in their reality and all that.

So basically…I had just shifted realities FOR MONTHS, and I did not realize.

But it wasn’t just the mole. Because once I remembered the ritual I did, I tried to look around my daily life and see if anything else had changed and I even asked the universe to show me what changed.

Guys.

I bring my sister a package she got and watch her unpack it…why does she pull out a bottle warmer🧍🏽‍♀️

I said, “girl what do you need two bottle warmers for?”

She said, “what do you mean two?”

I said, “didn’t somebody get you a bottle warmer from your baby registry?”

She says, “no girl, I bought this with my own money and it was expensive as hell, I wish somebody got this for me.”

Oh my god when I tell you, you could have knocked me over with a damn BREATH. I was truly…gagged. Like there’s no other word for it. Bewildered? I don’t even know.

I didn’t even say anything after that cause I just like wow, what is life? LMFAOOO

Now I know you may be wondering why the manifestion ritual didn’t work perfectly if I had specified what I wanted, which was “I want to shift to my desired reality” and I think it’s because before I did the ritual, I was debated whether or not I wanted to shift realities or manifest a SP ( specific person ) and I ultimately landed on reality shifting BUT CLEARLY, the universe had to double it.

Even to this day I’m still processing the shift because when people say reality shifting feels like your regular every day life…I AM PROOF THAT THAT IS TRUE. It didn’t even register that I was in an alternate reality because everything was almost perfect, genuinely, I had a great boyfriend, my friends were thriving, my family was even prospering ( my grades weren’t but let’s not talk about that ) like ??

Now that I’m writing this, I feel like I sound like the lamp starts looking weird story but I swear on everything I have ever loved and ever will love, this is 1000% true and something I’m still reeling from.

If you have any questions I’d be glad to answer but moving on!

TLDR; I have a mole on my left middle finger. I did a powerful manifestion ritual to shift to my desired reality when I was like 17. I got a boyfriend for the first time in college, he was everything I thought I wanted. I showed him my finger mole except it was on my right hand this time and I even said out loud how I thought it was on my left hand. Life goes on, we break up, one day I’m brushing my teeth and look at my left hand but there’s nothing there. I look at my right and BOOM there it is back where it was originally. There is more context pls just read the whole thing lmao.

ABOUT THE RITUAL: okay I don’t remember EXACTLY what I did so do NOT use this as a tutorial, I beg! Basically I had two or three cups of water (?), on a piece of paper I wrote down what I wanted aka “I will shift to my desired reality”, I think I switched the cups to be on top of the paper ? I don’t know y’all, and then I drank the water and kept both things beside me on my nightstand. If anyone knows the name of this manifesting technique, pleasseeee let me know. I’ve genuinely been too scared to look it up myself but ahh I guess it’s time to face it.

Thank you for reading, shifting is so incredibly real, manifesting is so incredibly real and your reality is whatever you want it to be, ritual or not. Thank you! <33

[wyattjohnston]

turbulent - nico hischier

summary: a bumpy flight forces two people closer together.

word count: 2,790

note: this is for @dunnerlars as part of the summer fic exchange 2k24. i really hope you like it ash <3 thanks to @offside-the-lines for putting up with me going through the five stages of grief whilst trying to pull this together!

There was an element of strangeness to working on an NHL charter flight; most perplexing, even still, to Bonnie was the sudden way they all stripped out of their suits the second the seatbelt sign was turned off. She understood that sitting in a suit for six hours wasn’t comfortable, and also understood that the toilets were not big enough for giant men to reasonably change—she chose to spend time in the galley while they were doing it, because it was impossible not to stare inappropriately if she was walking the aisles.

“I thought you were joking,” Alice said, returning to the galley wide eyed and keeping the curtain closed with a hard fist against the cabin wall.

Bonnie hummed without turning around. “Everyone does.”

Short of holding her coworkers hostage in the galley, there wasn’t much Bonnie could do beyond warning them about what they’d see if they wandered the plane before she told them to. So, without fail, they all got caught in the aisles as some twenty odd men stood in unison and started to remove their pants.

“I know athletes have no shame in locker rooms,” Alice whispered aggressively, still with a firm grip on the curtain, “but this is a plane. There are people out there! Journalists!”

“This happens every flight,” Bonnie stressed. “Everyone is used to it. Some of the journalists might even be changing, too.”

Alice’s eyes widened, so big that Bonnie had a mild concern that they would come out of her head, and they only returned to normal when the captain’s voice came over the speaker.

“Hello everyone, sorry to interrupt your flight so early on, we have just been made aware of some unexpected weather on route to Los Angeles. We’ll do our best to make any necessary deviations to avoid patches of turbulence without adding too much extra time to the flight. For your own safety, please keep your seatbelts fastened and only move around the cabin if necessary. Thank you.”

Bonnie sighed, her chin dropping to her chest, at the thought of yet another turbulent flight. Alice groaned. It had been an uncommonly turbulent couple of weeks across both of their flights, even in completely different areas and directions—it was the first thing they’d spoken about when they met before getting on the plane.

“I can’t unsee any of that,” Alice said, finally letting go of the curtain.

“I mean, yeah, but there are worse things to have burnt into your brain.”

Alice readily agreed, even took a moment to subtly peak back into the cabin.

Bonnie still vividly remembered the first time she’d witnessed it. She would never forget the eye contact she’d made with the team’s captain before her eyes were drawn to his bare chest, the tattoo on the inside of his bicep—

“What can I do for you?”

“I’m just here to see Bonnie.”

Said chest and said tattoo blazed in Bonnie’s mind, and then she made eye contact with the team’s captain and sighed softly.

“Hi, Nico,” she greeted. “My captain said you were meant to remain seated with your seatbelt on.”

He smiled knowingly, “Good luck with that.”

Alice disappeared back into the cabin when someone pressed the call button and Nico moved out of her way with a practiced ease, even as Bonnie began to organise the food trolley for the first pass through.

“I just wanted to come check on you; you weren’t on the last few flights.”

“Just a sinus infection,” she said, as if it hadn’t written her off for a week and a half. “Didn’t want my eardrums to explode, you know?”

“You’re okay?” he asked, his hand coming to rest on her forearm. Concern radiated off him.

Bonnie covered his hand with her own, smiling softly and saying reassuringly, “I’m all better.”

Nico stayed while Bonnie finished filling the trolley. The flights were the three after the All-Star Break, so he had plenty of stories to tell to keep her occupied. The Swiss boys had headed to Mexico, of which she was jealous. It hadn’t been too cold in Jersey, but the need for sun had been growing and growing since Christmas, and the longing had only gotten more intense after being cooped up in her own apartment.

“Have you been?” Nico asked.

“No,” Bonnie said with a shake of her head. “One of my college friends had a vacation home in Fort Lauderdale so we did Spring Br—shit.”

The trolley rattled, a few trays coming half out of their places, and Bonnie watched helplessly as the last knife and fork fell off the counter.

“What the fuck is going on today?” Nico asked, causing Bonnie's eyes to snap up. He had a hand on each of the high cabinets either side of the galley.

“You should go back to your seat,” Bonnie said, picking up the lost cutlery and dropping into what would become the dirty dishes container. “I’ll be out in a second. Put your seatbelt on.”

Nico nodded, “Yes ma’am.”

Bonnie was friendly with all the players, staff and media on the flight. Most of them were familiar faces, especially halfway through the season, but anybody she didn’t know was introduced to her with a startling amount of enthusiasm from whichever player had taken it upon themselves to do so—normally it was Luke, being egged on by Nate. She always made sure they had the same energy for whoever had been assigned to work with her, whether or not they had ever met before. Alice looked delighted by the attention; Bonnie hoped it was just the energy being contagious.

If they lingered a little longer next to Nico, who politely ignored Alice’s doe eyes, and Jesper, so that they could get his round up of the All-Star Game, that was purely coincidental.

Back in the galley, Alice was poised to ask many questions. Bonnie could feel the curiosity bursting from her, it only becoming more obvious with every passing minute of silence. Every now and then Bonnie was assigned to work with someone who couldn’t quite handle it. Bonnie would never put in any complaints herself for some lowkey fangirling, but she had had a few coworkers who had been asked to never work a team’s charter flight again.

“Say whatever it is you want to say,” Bonnie said after Alice’s eagerness became too much to bear.

“Did they ask for you to be on all their flights?”

“Uh…” Bonnie hesitated, rolling the question around in her mind. She wasn’t sure what she had been expecting, but it wasn’t that “I don’t think so? I think it’s just easier to have someone who knows all the ins and outs. I didn’t think they could request people.”

“The Rangers do it,” Alice said casually, as she pulled out a new tray of water bottles from the fridge, “but I think that’s because she’s sleeping with one of the players.”

Bonnie was nodding, distracted by someone pressing the call button, and responded mindlessly, “Yeah, that’s pretty norm—Wait, what? I didn’t know anything about that!”

“That’s what I heard,” Alice said, looking and sounding suspiciously like Alexis Rose. “Super juicy. They wouldn’t tell me which player which was upsetting.”

“I wouldn’t want to know anyway,” Bonnie said, largely trying to convince herself because, though she would never admit aloud, she was not immune to gossip. “I couldn’t look them in the face again.”

The plane rumbled.

“Fine, I won’t tell you when I find out, but I also won’t tell anybody you’re sleeping with Nico. Promise.”

Bonnie’s neck snapped as she turned to glare at Alice. “Yeah, you better not because I’m not sleeping with Nico.”

“Oh, really? Damn.” Alice pouted. “You so could be, though. Should be.”

The thing about that was that Bonnie knew she could be. Nico had never made it explicitly clear, but nobody else on the team spent any time in the galley with her during flights. Nobody else ever got up and sought her out when they needed something.

Nobody else touched her so effortlessly, so naturally, when in her space without at all being in the way or a burden.

Nobody else ever looked at her like she was the best thing to happen in their day.

Bonnie tried her hardest to hide the small sigh that escaped her lips. She made direct eye contact with Alice as she moved the conversation along.

“How did you even find out about the Rangers thing? This is your first flight.”

Alice, either oblivious to the redirect or just so interested in the gossip that she didn’t mind, rattled on, “They brought me in for orientation and the woman they left me with is chatty.”

Bonnie knew the exact woman being referred to—in fact, she’d been subtly blacklisted from the Devils’ flights at the beginning of that season for some very inappropriate and entirely unsubtle flirting.

Alice was still talking, even as she left the galley with her tray of water bottles and crossed through the curtain, stopping mid-word to change topics and start a conversation with the person sitting directly on the other side.

A brief jolt came over the plane and Bonnie groaned. It was followed by a considerable rattle.

She was second guessing her career choice as her stomach lurched with the plane when Nico, once again, appeared in the galley. His closed-mouth smile was genuine if not a little cautious and it set Bonnie at ease.

Until she felt more turbulence and was met with Nico’s uncertain head tilt.

“You can stay, but you have to sit there,” Bonnie told him, putting a hand on his shoulder to forcibly turn him around to look at the jump seat she was pointing at. “And put your seatbelt on.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he said. When he sat down, he only broke eye contact to find the seatbelt. “What did you do while we were on break?”

The shelves were rattling around her.

“Worked other flights like I normally do when you guys are at home for a while,” Bonnie answered. “I don’t just sit at home and wait for the team to go on a road trip, you know.”

“That… that makes a lot of sense,” he admitted, his cheeks turning the slightest bit red. “I don’t know why I thought you only flew with us.”

“Sometimes I fly with the Knicks, sometimes there’s some commercial flights. You boys are my favourites, though.”

Nico’s sweet smile turned just ever so slightly into a smirk. “I knew we would be.”

“You didn’t even know there were others,” Bonnie said, laughing.

“Yeah, but obviously.”

Bonnie’s eye roll was good natured, her laughter continuing as Nico’s smirk morphed back into its purest, most genuine form.

She kept looking back at him as she continued to work, sometimes to show she was listening and other times just to look. He was often looking back.

Their peacefulness was interrupted by the ding of the seatbelt sign being switched on and the plane’s captain making an announcement.

“Everybody, including cabin crew, the seatbelt sign has been turned on. Please make your way back to your seats immediately and put on your seatbelt; we don’t expect that to be the last patch and we apologise for our lack of notice on that one. If you need emergency assistance, please press the call button and someone will be with you as soon as it is safe.”

The inclusion of the cabin crew set Bonnie on edge, and she was halfway to demanding Nico return to his seat and hunting Alice down to drag her back when the plane shook even more violently than it had the entire life.

Bonnie’s feet momentarily left the floor. She could hear some shouting from the cabin. She could hear luggage bouncing in the nearest overhead lockers. She made eye contact with Nico—all colour was drained from his face.

“Where’s Alice?” Bonnie asked, holding desperately onto the galley counter behind her back. “She needs to be sitting down.”

Nico leant as far as he could, peeking down the aisle, before saying firmly, “She’s in my seat. Come here.”

Bonnie didn’t let go of the counter as she walked, her eyes never leaving the seat opposite Nico, and she was confident she was going to make it before the next bump. She looked back into the aisle when she could, instantly looking to Nico’s normal seat to see Alice expertly calming down some very nervous men, and relaxed knowing that she was safe.

Naturally, the plane started to tremble just a bit harder the very second she was feeling comfortable, and the oh shit had barely left her mouth before the plane dropped again. Her mind filled with all the things that could happen, where her head and the plane would meet, all the things that would inevitably fall on her if she was unable to get off the floor. And then—

“Gopf.”

She was hauled by the arm with an abrupt and unexpected force, all momentum she’d gained coming to a crashing halt when she collided with Nico’s chest and was held firmly in place by his arms wrapped around her.

“This is the worst flight I’ve ever been on.”

“Go on a date with me.”

Bonnie froze in Nico’s arms; no thoughts being given to the next bumpy patch and all thoughts being focused on his words and the way his arms squeezed just a little bit together.

“What?” she asked, breathless. “Nico.”

“I kind of feel like we might be about to die,” he said—it wasn’t totally clear if he was being serious or not, but he was sincere in his tone. “I don’t want that to happen without at least asking.”

She sighed wistfully, swooning closer to him in their already intimate position. Nico’s eyes dropped to Bonnie’s mouth, causing her to bite her lip and turn her head.

“I shouldn’t have asked?” Nico asked cautiously, his arms loosening around her waist. “I’m sorry.”

Bonnie shook her head, and said in a whisper, “You should have. I’m just—I’m working. I wish I wasn’t working.”

Out of the corner of her eye she caught Nico’s small, pleased expression, and revelled in the delight in his voice when he said, mostly to himself, “I’ll ask again when we’re off the plane.”

For her own sanity, and to remain professional whilst working, Bonnie took the slight break in turbulence as an opportunity to move to the empty jump seat on the other side of the galley. Nico’s hands lingered on her waist as she left, and his eyes burnt holes in the side of her head. She was determinedly looking down the aisle, carefully not looking at anybody sitting down.

The turbulence continued, the seatbelt sign remained on, but Bonnie and Alice were free to move around the cabin. Nico went back to his seat when Alice returned, the smile he sent Bonnie had Alice turning to her deviously.

“Are you sure you aren’t fucking him?”

“I would remember.”

Alice prattled on about maybe the sex being so good that it was affecting Bonnie’s memory, not letting up even as they prepared the cabin for landing—both of them steering clear of the cabin as the players stripped down to change back into their suits. It was amazing how much work she could get done whilst her mouth was moving a million miles a minute, seemingly every thought coming out in a stream of consciousness. It may have been about Bonnie, but it was still enough for Bonnie to tune out the exact words and just let it become background noise that distracted her from thinking about whether or not Nico was in fact going to find her once the plane had landed.

As always, the players were the first off of the plane, most of them thanking Bonnie and Alice, whilst others looked a bit too green to speak. Nico was the last of the players to disembark, slightly uncommon but not unheard of. Bonnie had to keep her eyes trained on his face because she knew if she even looked at Alice for a moment the endless talking would restart.

“I, uh, don’t actually know if I can miss the team bus from the airport,” he said, his eyebrows knitted tightly together and his voice solemn. “But if I could get your number, we could meet up later? For dinner?”

“Yeah,” Bonnie nodded, blushing. “I’d like that a lot.”

Nico pulled out his phone for Bonnie to enter her number, and, when she was finished, she made accidental eye contact with Alice who had, to Bonnie’s dismay, started to dance in the galley.

[meaningofaeons]

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈ strength in weakness

⊹ character(s) - gojo satoru ⊹ word count - 891 ⊹ notes - fem!reader, hurt/comfort, fluff, silliness, spoilers for s2e5/hidden inventory arc (premature death), reader is a teacher at jujutsu high + a sorcerer ofc, kinda ocxcanon coded im sorry, this is so rushed and dumb and AUUUGHHHH

I....... I caved (ﾐዎ ﻌ ዎﾐ) this man does so many things to me and after seeing the last frame in the ep where his eyes looked a lil red (im including a pic at the end.) I had to write this up. also im so sorry this is like 110% me just turning my oc x gojo into a drabble lmfao LOVE YALL

"Gojo-sensei!"

"Ah, he's awake!"

"Hey, that's one of those expensive chairs, isn't it?!"

"Please don't fall asleep after summoning all of us here."

You stood idly by as your students pestered Satoru, arms crossed firmly in front of your chest. The man only smirked a bit, lifting his blindfold just enough to give Megumi a look.

In the split second before he pulled it back down, you caught sight of his eye, and faltered.

"Ha!"

"Oi, come on! My turn next!"

Yuji's bickering and Nobara's victorious, haughty laughter faded into background fuzz as you gazed after the special grade sorcerer, Megumi raising a brow at him.

"What're you smiling about?"

"Oh, nothing."

The white-haired man turned his head, and you could tell that even beneath that blindfold, he was staring straight at you.

"Ohhh~... Y/N came along too, huh?"

"L/N-sensei was with us when we remembered you had asked us to come by. She just walked us over."

"Aw, not here to see me, huh?"

You sighed, a bit of sarcasm leaking into your voice.

"As loathe as I am to hurt your delicate feelings, Satoru, I just walked the kids over."

Megumi gave his teacher serious side eye before responding. "I don't think anyone would willingly go to see you without being prompted to."

"Ouch."

You paused for a moment as Satoru turned around again, leaning down and beckoning the dark-haired student over. He listened politely to your words, and though he gave you an odd look, he walked over to Nobara and Yuji nonetheless.

"You two, let's wait outside for a bit."

"Huh?! But Kugisaki hasn't let me sit yet!"

"You can sit in the chair later. Gojo-sensei doesn't mind."

"I'll just take it from Itadori again!"

"Why, you—!"

The two eventually barreled out the door, Megumi giving you a small nod before sliding it shut behind himself. Satoru plopped himself back into his seat at that, his easy smile still ever-present.

"So you did come to see me."

"Not really," you murmured casually, earning an overdramatic, shocked gasp from the man. However, he calmed the theatrics upon the sound of your gentle footfalls, feeling your shadow fall over his seated form. "Just thought of something."

Your fingers brushed over the edges of his blindfold before you could stop yourself, but Satoru only shrugged, the barest hint of hesitation seeping into his light tone.

"Go for it."

You pushed the material up just far enough to see his eye once more, your thumb brushing over the reddened flesh beneath it. Slightly puffy, almost as if...

Right. It was around this time of year.

You recalled the time of your youth perhaps just as vividly as Satoru did, but you never were quite as close with Suguru as he was. So no matter how much you remembered, it couldn't compare to what he had seen.

"I'm starting to think you've got some less-than-professional feelings for me, L/N-sensei, what with this tender touch. Are you giving me special treatment?"

"Be serious for a moment," you scoffed, but your hand did not recoil. It made Satoru's smirk drop, even if only a bit.

Your voice was far gentler than he'd ever heard it before.

"How are you feeling?"

Perhaps it was an obvious question to ask, one with an obvious answer—regardless of how he truly felt, Satoru's answer would always be something placating, something lighthearted and in jest.

But this time, he only glanced away, blindfold still pushed up.

"Well, it was just a dream."

You nodded, hand falling away from his face. Before it could fall to your side, however, the man sitting beside you reached out, taking it gingerly.

You didn't ask any further. Prodding the issue would lead nowhere.

But your hand squeezed his just slightly, just enough for him to feel your flesh, warm and alive.

You were here. That's really all he needed in this moment of vulnerability.

"I didn't take you for the comforting type."

Your eyebrow twitched as he slipped back into that teasing lilt of his.

"I can comfort you with a nice slap to the face, if you'd prefer it."

"Not like you could touch me, anyhow~."

"You little—"

Before you could even react, Satoru had scampered to the door, slamming it open and wrapping an arm around Yuji and Megumi's shoulders, spouting some nonsense about missing his beloved students.

"What took you so long, Sensei?" Yuji asked, face scrunching as the white-haired man ruffled his hair.

"Don't you know anything, Itadori? He and L/N-sensei were in there alone, so obviously..."

Nobara's words devolved into hushed whispers as she spotted you in the corner of her eye, and you shot Satoru a warning glance as he leaned back to get a look at you.

You were sure that, in the several years you'd known one another, the man would have long since been able to recognize your eyes clearly saying, 'Don't feed a word into this, or I'll pummel you to death.'

Alas...

"Exactly right, Kugisaki! Full marks!"

"Whaaat?! Seriously?! Sensei, you and L/N-sen—"

"Don't feed them nonsense, you ingrate!" you shouted at once, chasing after a very unrepentant Satoru as he skipped around the courtyard. Megumi only grumbled out a sigh.

"So we all agree something's going on, ri—"

"Enough, Kugisaki, let's just go."

SEE WHATD I SAY!!!! HIS EYES!!!! I love you forver. .... please dont cry .................

[defronny]

𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬

pairing ── marsh danielle x female reader

summary ── love is painful to bear when she thinks that the person she loves doesn't feel the same, but would it still be that way when she finds out that it is the opposite?

contains ── light angst, wholesome, sudden confession, deeply in love, a bit rushed, non idol au, childhood friends to lovers, small age gap

taglist ── @pminjucaptor

[masterlist]

── ── ꒰ [◉"] ꒱ ── ──

"i love you."

tears began to well up as she tried to pull away from the grip of your hands, but when you tightened it, she let out a choked sob. her heart throbbed so bad, that she thought she couldn't breathe. she looked down.

she blurted it out. she had really blurted her undying feelings for you. the feelings she had long kept to herself have finally revealed to you and now she fears for your reaction. afraid, she kept her head down as she froze on her seat while you stood still in front of her, hand holding hers tightening.

she breathed heavily, tears falling and she could only hear the booming sound of her beating heart against her eardrums. she didn't think she could wait any longer for your response, so she tried to stand up from her seat when you suddenly spoke up.

your voice was barely above a whisper, too soft and vulnerable almost. "how long... have you been feeling this way for me, dani?" your grip on hers loosened bit by bit, causing her heart to clench painfully.

she still didn't look up to you, not wanting to see what look your beautiful face held. her brown hair curtains her view, her glassy eyes staying on her lap.

"...ever since haerin introduced you to me."

"that very first day, huh..."

her ears burned when you mumbled lowly, feeling something stirring in her chest and stomach. butterflies could be, she's sure of it.

─────flashbacks

it was when danielle was still in high school, the time before she met you.

danielle remembered that early morning when she was waiting for haerin at the convenience store, near their school. it was their usual meet-up before heading to school, wanting to stay together since they were in the same class as well.

when haerin arrived, she wasn't alone- someone else was coming with the korean friend, and danielle, at that time, didn't know who you were but you were beautiful. stunning and mesmerizing.

she was in awe, captivated by your unexpected beauty. at that time, the australian girl didn't know that you were related to haerin.

haerin smiles, "morning, dani. i forgot to inform you that my sister was coming with us too since her schedule changed for this week. are you okay with her coming with us?" she asks, cat eyes staying on her friend's form before noticing that she was looking at her sister.

danielle was quiet for a moment, her eyes meeting yours causing you to look away with red ears. heart skipped. her hands slightly quivered before nodding slowly, a warm smile appearing on her face.

"yeah.. she's more than welcome to come with us."

ever since that time, danielle couldn't get you out of her mind. as time goes by, she slowly memorizes your features- basically everything about you, and surely, you're perfect in her eyes. you're kind and quiet, just like haerin, but you're also warm towards people.

you don't hesitate to help someone in need, but you're also the person who knows how to be serious or angry in the right situation. you know how to act right, and she admires you greatly for it.

but you also have your vulnerable and weak moments, and danielle was there to witness it and became your reliable close friend.

weeks passed then became months, then years.

you graduated first since you were the oldest out of the two of them. danielle could vividly remember how beautiful you looked in your graduation fit- it suits you and added with light makeup, the australian girl was whipped.

her heart kept beating rapidly whenever you came near, and her hands sweating whenever you gave her a warm hug- oh, your hug. she could never refuse it. she wholeheartedly welcomes your hugs, and she cherishes them each time.

danielle couldn't remember how many times you held her hand, how you leaned against her shoulder, hugging her, and teasing each other.

but danielle was completely sure about one thing- she's in love with you.

when you entered college, danielle and haerin had graduated from high school happily and successfully. you were there to celebrate with them, along with danielle's family and yours. it was an amazing day for danielle.

her excitement went beyond when she saw you, and as if she hadn't met you for years, she lunged at you for a tight hug and you returned it. then she landed a kiss on your cheeks, to which you reacted in surprise and her in shock. but then, you smiled and hugged her tight, congratulating her.

she doesn't know how to feel about your reaction at that time, but she didn't think much of it, save for the light squeeze of her heart.

never had danielle hated you for something. she learned to accept your flaws, even as your close friend. she learned to understand you more, and she thought that her feelings for you wouldn't possibly grow more than that.

but apparently, it did and damn— it grew so much that she can just call this love.

yet she kept it. she never revealed it to anyone, except to haerin, given that the korean girl has been her best friend ever since childhood. haerin knows everything, and although she doesn't tease danielle about it too much, she still gives a playful look to her whenever you come near them to have lunch together.

when danielle confessed her feelings for you to haerin, the latter wasn't surprised. she actually assumed that danielle has a crush on you when you two first met, since the australian girl kept glancing your way, soft smile in her lips, ears turning red and small gestures of holding your hands or keeping your gifts for the girl.

it was really obvious, haerin said to danielle, who covered her flushed face with her hands.

─────2

then, a year had passed and you grew maturely in your 3rd year in college. danielle and haerin are in their 2nd year in college, and had found a new member in their circle of friends, lee hyein.

a young girl who is in her 1st year in college, and one of the most playfully and energetic people they've met. hyein still has her youthful playfulness, so everyday has been fun and lively. danielle loved it. she loves hyein's vibes and dad jokes a lot, making her laugh every time she gets a chance to stay with them during lunch at school.

and then, you introduced your new friends to danielle, haerin and hyein— minji and hanni; friends in the same program. both of the girls are almost the same age as you, and surely, the three are like the mature adult in the new, growing circle of friends.

but lately, danielle noticed you and hanni becoming really close— perhaps, intimate, almost?

every time you, with the two, come up to the younger members of the group in the cafeteria after class, you and hanni have always been holding hands and laughing together. minji almost third wheeling, but the eldest didn't mind.

but danielle was bothered by it. so bothered. she didn't like how close you became with hanni, whom you became friends just almost recently. it's only been months since you've met them, and the two of you became so close unlike with danielle, whom you've known and been friends ever since high school.

yet, you two have never been like that before.

however, danielle resented herself for not taking a move to be that close with you before, so she couldn't blame you or hanni for that matter at all. but she's still bothered— and her heart clenched painfully every time hanni drops her head on your shoulder to rest while you pat her head gently.

it made danielle think, 'it should be me.'

whenever she gets home, she cries to herself to sleep, blaming herself for not making full effort of becoming close to you. and now, this is what it takes her. every night was painful, and dark. the vitamin girl had almost lost herself just because of one girl she loved the most.

haerin noticed it, and only talked to her about it in private, respecting her friend's feelings for her sister. danielle was moved, but the pain of thinking about you and your close friend was still there. she tries not to think much of her, but she couldn't ignore her feelings, and the longer she hides it, the more it becomes visible to you.

she avoids you like a virus, laughing awkwardly then leaving frantically when you come by, not making eye-contact with you and not getting close to you physically— and yet, all of this made it even more painful for danielle. she doesn't know what to do anymore, and it was noticable.

because of this, you noticed it.

─────current

"... can i tell you something, dani?"

the said girl shivered at the sound of your voice calling her favorite nickname, tears continue falling and her hands in yours tremble. but when you rubbed the back of her hand, she couldn't help the skips of her heart against her chest.

she doesn't trust herself to speak, so she nodded slightly, appearing small and afraid. you chuckle lightly about it, before frowning as you played with her hands. you breathe out softly.

"... i feel the same way, dani." and just like that, silence took over. it was loud and thick, despite it being just quiet. then, she looked up slowly, her red glassy eyes meeting your soft eyes. her heart skipped another beat as you sent her a fond smile.

"don't you notice it, dani? ever since we first met... have you not noticed that i've been looking at you, the same way as you look at me? have you not noticed.. the small glances i gave, and the smiles that are only for you?" danielle almost melted at the sight of your shy, timid and adorable smile.

but it hit her again. her ears burned, "w..what do you mean?" she stuttered softly, her tears stopped falling as she turned her entire attention to you. her heart ached when you had that solemn expression on your face, tightening her grip on yours. this caused you to smile, albeit a small one.

"dani, do you love me? like... really? sincerely?" when your eyes turned hopeful yet helpless at the same time, danielle knew she didn't have to hide her feelings for you anymore. not anymore- this will be her time to reveal everything.

"yes, unnie... i love you. i really really love you. i love you to the point where i want to grab you and kiss you, to the point where i want to hug you every day and kiss you a morning and goodnight. i loved you... ever since the beginning we met."

she sobbed softly, leaning her head against your stomach. "you made me realize so many things. you allowed me to learn how to love and why i love- it was all because of you. you are my admiration, my adoration, my sunshine, and my.." she breathes in, although unevenly.

she shakes her head, pulling your intertwined hands to her face before kissing the back of your hand. feeling your hand tightening even more, she felt even more hopeful. perhaps... this is it.

perhaps, you really feel the same way.

when you suddenly released your hold on her and took her head with your hands before turning her head to face you, revealing your glassy, yet loving eyes. you smiled, "i felt your love, dani. i felt it just with your words, with your actions, and the quality time we've had before."

you chuckle softly, brushing your nose with hers, unaware of the rapid beating of her heart. "i want you to feel mine too..." you mumbled.

danielle could feel your breath over her lips, causing her to gulp. you notice it and giggle lightly, rubbing her burning cheeks gently. "i'm sorry that i caused you pain." you said, to which she quickly shook her head, her hands holding onto your hands that held her face.

"don't be sorry- if anything, you don't have anything to be sorry about. it has never been your fault, nor my fault. i know that. i just love you so much, unnie." she paused when your fingers stopped. she shivered under your warm touch.

"y/n."

you muttered, your heart beating fast and loud. danielle blinked twice, "huh?" she breathes. you only sigh softly, leaning your forehead against hers. "call me y/n again... let me hear you say my name again."

danielle would've squealed like an idiot right there, but she couldn't— not when you appear to be this timid and vulnerable. soft and gentle. longing for something.

"...y/n."

she smiles when you smile. your smile was soft and tender, yet it was contagious and it made her smile. her heart warmed when you giggled and nodded against her forehead. "yeah.. yeah, it's me."

"could i take you on a date, y/n?" danielle laughs fondly as you blinked rapidly, before your cheeks burned. you pulled away but kept your hold on her cheeks, not planning to let go.

you pursed your lips adorably, causing the younger to melt inside. she could see your eyes more clearly this time, could smell your sweet scent, and the touch and texture of your skin on hers. it was so sweet, and beautiful. should she really believe that you really love her the same way as she loves you?

and not platonically?

"take me out on a date, dani. and after that.." your thumbs gently rubbed her cheeks, ".. i want to confess to you again." and there, her heart skipped another beat, and then another, then another one. until it was beating furiously.

you could feel and hear it, causing you to smile and feel your heart beating at the same pace. your eyes have long met hers, and all you could see was love, affectionate, respect, admiration and fondness for you. it was all for you and to you, and it warmed your heart greatly.

it feels too good to have your feelings returned, even in an unexpected way.

"i really want to kiss you..." danielle pouts, her brows furrowing. you laughed, pulling away from her and held her hands instead. you took a moment to look at her face, causing the australian girl to turn red. "is there something on my-"

"you're beautiful, dani."

blinking, her face turning even more red that you don't know if it were possible but apparently it is. and she's cute— so so cute. pulling your intertwined hands up to your lips, you kissed the back of her hand lovingly, hearing her breath hitched.

"dani.. let's go on a date. i can't wait to confess to you again."

── ── ꒰ end ꒱ ── ──

[redvexillum]

Sixth Kiss: Burning

A/N: This is part of a mini series guys. I will release the related stories in a neat and tidy masterlist after! Enjoy!

SUMMARY: Caught between the past and the future, Charlie clings to a love that no longer belongs to her. Haunted by guilt and unresolved feelings, she tries to move on with you—a hellborn offering her comfort and kindness.

Charlie entrusted Vaggie with not just her heart, but her very essence. Their meeting had felt predestined, etched into the fabric of Hell's chaotic tapestry. She remembered it vividly: Vaggie, crumpled and bleeding in a shadowed alleyway, the air thick with the acrid scent of recent extermination. Without hesitation, Charlie had knelt beside her, gently lifting her battered form, her touch tender and resolute. 

From that moment, Charlie's world transformed. The darkness of Hell seemed a little less oppressive. Her laughter rang truer, her steps carried more purpose, and her smile felt genuine in a way it hadn’t for years. Vaggie became her anchor, her confidante, and her unwavering ally in the task of challenging Heaven's dominion. Together, they faced the insurmountable. 

Together, they were unstoppable. 

Until the day they weren’t. 

The first cracks in their perfect veneer came when they had first entered Heaven together to vouch for sinners. Adam revealed the dark truth of Vaggie's past. 

Vaggie had been an angel. 

Not just any angel—an exterminator, one of Heaven’s elite enforcers, charged with purging Hell's denizens. The woman who had held Charlie with such tenderness had once wielded celestial weapons with merciless precision, extinguishing countless souls without remorse. 

Charlie’s heart fractured. Her mind raced, grasping for any explanation that would make it a lie. But Vaggie’s eyes, brimming with regret, held no deception. The weight of that truth crushed Charlie, leaving her adrift in a sea of betrayal. 

What stung more? The revelation that Vaggie had been one of Heaven’s hunters? Or the knowledge that she had kept this from Charlie for years, hiding a past soaked in blood? 

The hotel became a prison of unspoken words and stifled emotions. Their interactions, once effortless, now felt heavy with unvoiced confessions and lingering guilt. Charlie carried her grief quietly, trying to maintain the facade of a hopeful princess while her heart ached for a love she no longer knew how to trust. 

Lost in thought, she didn’t notice you calling out to her. Your voice, light and teasing, broke through her reverie. 

“Hey,” you called, tilting your head with playful curiosity. “What’s got you so serious, cupcake?” 

Your gentle nudge pulled a soft, startled laugh from Charlie. She rubbed her neck sheepishly. “Sorry,” she murmured. “Just… a lot on my mind.” 

Your expression shifted to one of concern, tempered by understanding. “Heavy stuff, huh?” 

Charlie nodded. The ache of her unresolved feelings for Vaggie never quite left her. The hotel bustled with life and laughter, but none of it could fill the hollow space Vaggie had left behind. 

It was Angel Dust, ever the meddlesome yet well-meaning friend, who first suggested a dating app. Charlie had refused outright. “I’m not ready,” she insisted. But loneliness is insidious, and one quiet night, it led her to download the app in secret. 

Cinder. 

Her profile was cautious, her bio short and to the point. And then there was you—a match she hadn’t expected. From the start, Charlie was transparent. “I’m not looking for anything serious,” she had typed, her fingers hesitant. To her relief, you accepted it without question, never pushing for more than she could offer. 

Your conversations became a balm. You made her laugh, your humour lightening the weight she carried. Yet, guilt lingered, gnawing at the edges of her heart. No matter how much she enjoyed your company, part of her felt like she was betraying Vaggie—even though they were no longer together. 

“So, you’re still planning that New Year’s party at the hotel, right?” you asked, pulling out your phone. “Maybe we can hang out a bit before or after? No pressure.” 

Charlie blinked, her heart twisting with emotion. Your kindness was disarming—never demanding, always respectful of her boundaries. 

“That sounds nice,” she whispered, a soft smile curving her lips. “I know!” Charlie gasped, her entire face lighting up with an almost childlike enthusiasm. Her crimson eyes sparkled as a beaming smile spread across her lips. “What if you come to the party too?” The words tumbled out in a rush, her excitement momentarily eclipsing the anxiety that gnawed at the edges of her thoughts. 

She puffed out her chest in a show of confidence, though a tremor of uncertainty whispered beneath her bravado. Her fingers fidgeted with the hem of her jacket, and she took a steadying breath. “I should…” Charlie paused, her voice faltering as her gaze dropped to the floor. Her heart thudded painfully against her ribs, each beat a reminder of the fragile hope she clung to. “I want to introduce you to everyone as my… p-partner.” 

The word hung in the air between you, laden with unspoken fears and lingering guilt. Charlie’s cheeks flushed a deep crimson, a stark contrast to her usual sunny demeanour. Shame prickled at the edges of her mind, mingling with the ache of unresolved emotions. Vaggie’s face flashed in her thoughts—those sorrowful eyes, the silent hurt—and it twisted something deep inside her. 

The pain of letting go. 

The guilt of moving on. 

“Oh?” you smirked, an amused glint in your eyes as you raised a brow. “A partner, huh?” There was a teasing lilt to your voice as you crossed your arms and leaned in slightly. “Shall I dress up for the occasion? It’s a hotel full of sinners, right?” 

Your playful tone brought a momentary reprieve from the weight in Charlie’s chest. She giggled, the sound light but tinged with nervous energy. “No—I mean, unless you want to.” Her laughter faltered slightly, and she pressed her palms together, wringing them in an anxious gesture. “It’s really up to you. You look amazing as always!” She threw her arms out in a grand gesture, as if presenting you to an invisible audience. Her nervous chuckle trailed off, leaving a fragile silence in its wake. 

You snorted softly, a smile tugging at the corner of your lips before you reached out, your hand gentle as it cupped the side of Charlie’s face. The sudden warmth of your touch made her breath hitch, and her eyes flickered up to meet yours. 

“Are you really alright?” you asked quietly, your gaze searching hers with genuine concern. There was no judgment in your tone, only a soft, steady patience that made her chest tighten with emotion. 

Charlie’s heart stuttered painfully, her guilt clawing at her insides. She wanted to be honest with you. She wanted to offer you the same openness and vulnerability that you gave her. But she couldn’t—not fully. The weight of her unresolved feelings for Vaggie hung heavy in the air between you. 

Her smile wavered, a fragile thing barely holding itself together. “Y-yeah, I am,” she whispered, her voice trembling with the weight of unspoken truths. Her eyes darted away, unable to hold your gaze for too long. 

Silence stretched between you, heavy and loaded with emotions neither of you dared to voice. Finally, you pulled your hand away, the absence of your touch leaving a cold, aching void despite the ever-present heat of Hell. Charlie’s cheek tingled where your palm had rested, the ghost of your warmth lingering. 

“I-I should go,” she stammered, her hands fluttering nervously. “Lots to prepare and all that.” 

You nodded, your expression softening with understanding. “Yeah, I’ve got to get back to work too.” There was a hint of something wistful in your voice as you added, “I’ll see you tonight, then?” 

Charlie forced a smile, her lips stretching in an attempt to hide the turmoil roiling inside her. “See you tonight,” she echoed, her voice barely above a whisper. 

As she turned and walked away, each step felt heavier than the last. The guilt clung to her like a shroud, wrapping tighter with every breath she took. The hotel loomed ahead, a familiar beacon in the fiery landscape of the Pride Ring. But today, it felt more like a mausoleum—a place where memories of love and loss intertwined, suffocating her with their weight. 

When she entered the grand lobby, her heart sank further at the sight before her. 

Vaggie stood near the front desk, her sharp eyes softened with an expression Charlie hadn’t seen in a long time. She wasn’t alone. The hotel’s newest resident—a sinner with a striking appearance and a charming smile—was leaning in close, their body language intimate, their laughter soft and easy. 

Charlie’s heart twisted painfully, jealousy burning hot and bitter in her chest. She had noticed them growing closer with each passing day, their interactions more frequent, their conversations filled with quiet familiarity. It shouldn’t have mattered. Vaggie deserved happiness, just as Charlie did. 

But the sight of them together—it hurt. 

Their laughter faded as Vaggie’s gaze lifted, locking onto Charlie’s from across the room. For a moment, time seemed to slow. Vaggie’s eyes held a flicker of something—regret, perhaps? Sadness? Whatever it was, it made Charlie’s chest ache even more. 

But then, slowly, Vaggie looked away. 

Charlie swallowed hard, her throat tightening as she forced herself to keep walking. Each step felt like a battle against the emotions threatening to overwhelm her. Her nails bit into her palms as she clenched her fists, her mind a whirlwind of thoughts. 

Everything felt so complicated. 

Why did she have to fall in love with an exterminator? 

If Vaggie had been a sinner from the start, would things have been different? Would their love have been simpler, easier? 

Where had Charlie’s love truly begun? She couldn't say. Maybe it sprouted the first time she saw Vaggie lying broken in an alleyway, fierce and proud despite her wounds. Or perhaps it bloomed later, in stolen glances and soft conversations shared in the quiet corners of the hotel. 

But now? That love twisted inside her like a vine covered in thorns. It wasn't gentle anymore. It was a maelstrom—a swirling storm of confusion, bitterness, pettiness, rage, and frustration. Every emotion clashed against the other, and she couldn’t see the right path through the haze. 

Every road stretched out before her like a fire-lit bridge, burning at both ends. No matter which way she turned, the flames consumed her. 

And Charlie… Charlie felt trapped. 

On New Year’s Eve, the hotel gleamed with a festive glow. Strings of lights sparkled in gold and crimson, casting warm hues across the lobby. Music floated through the air, blending with the low hum of chatter from the gathered sinners. Despite the celebratory atmosphere, Charlie’s heart was heavy with anticipation and dread. 

When you entered through the grand doors, her face lit up instantly. “You made it!” she greeted, her voice bright with practised cheer. Her hand reached for yours, squeezing lightly, as though drawing strength from the simple touch. 

You glanced around the hotel, taking in the decorations. “Nice setup,” you commented, your gaze lingering on the lavish display of firework-themed banners and the elegantly arranged tables. 

Charlie giggled, a soft, nervous sound that betrayed the turmoil underneath. “Come on, I’ll give you a tour.” Her fingers laced with yours as she led you through the hotel, pointing out each decorated room, each carefully crafted centrepiece. Her voice bubbled with excitement, but her grip tightened just a little too much. 

As you reached the lounge, Angel Dust appeared from behind a curtain of streamers, his ever-present smirk widening as he spotted you. “Well, hello there,” he drawled, one brow arching playfully. “Charlie, darling—who’s the hottie?” 

Charlie froze mid-step, her cheeks flushing a rosy pink. Her eyes darted nervously between Angel, your intertwined hands, and your calm expression. The word she wanted to say—partner—caught in her throat, sticking like a jagged stone. 

The pause stretched too long, and you noticed it. 

With a casual shrug, you released her hand, slipping easily into the role she was too afraid to define. “We’re just friends,” you said smoothly, flashing a devil-may-care grin that masked any disappointment you might have felt. “Cool place you’ve got here. Any drinks?” 

Angel’s eyes glinted with amusement as he crossed his arms. “Now you’re speaking my language, sugar. Come on, let’s hit the bar.” He tossed a wink at Charlie before steering you toward Husk, who sat grumpily behind the counter nursing a glass of whisky. 

Charlie stood rooted in place, her hand lingering in the air where yours had been moments ago. The warmth of your touch had already faded, leaving her feeling colder than before. 

She could feel the unspoken judgment hanging in the air. The voices in her head whispered cruel truths. 

I'm being unfair to them. I'm stringing them along. I should let them go if I can’t give them everything. 

Her heart clenched painfully. She wanted to scream at herself. Wanted to take it all back. Wanted to run after you and tell you the truth. 

But before she could move, a familiar voice cut through the festive air. 

“Hey.” 

Charlie’s heart lurched as she whirled around to see Vaggie standing just a few feet away. Her expression was guarded, her arms crossed tightly over her chest. There was a tension in the way she stood, a stiffness that spoke of discomfort and unease. But there was something else, too—a flicker of vulnerability in her eyes, as if she was bracing herself for rejection. 

Charlie’s breath caught in her throat. “O-oh! Hi!” Her shoulders lifted in an awkward hitch as she forced a bright smile. “Long time no… see?” 

The moment the words left her lips, she winced inwardly. Long time no see? Seriously? You saw her ten minutes ago putting up decorations, you idiot. 

Vaggie’s lips twitched, forming a crooked smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Yeah.” Her voice was quiet, hesitant. The air between them felt heavy with everything unsaid. 

Silence descended like a weight, pressing down on both of them. The sounds of laughter and music from the party faded into the background, leaving only the awkward tension hanging between them. 

Charlie opened her mouth to speak— 

“Uhm—” 

Only for Vaggie to do the same— 

“So—” 

They both stopped, eyes widening as they realized they had spoken at the same time. A nervous laugh bubbled from Charlie, and she gestured for Vaggie to go first. “You—you go ahead.” 

Vaggie took a deep breath, her gaze dropping to the floor for a moment before she looked up, her expression softening. “I just… wanted to wish you a happy New Year.” 

The words were simple, but the emotion behind them wasn’t. There was a rawness to her tone, a quiet longing that Charlie recognized all too well. It mirrored her own feelings—the ache of something broken, something lost, that neither of them had figured out how to mend. 

Charlie’s heart twisted painfully. She wanted to reach out, to close the distance between them, to take Vaggie’s hand like she used to. But fear held her back—fear of rejection, fear of causing more hurt, fear of the truths that still lingered unspoken between them. 

“Happy New Year,” Charlie whispered, her voice trembling ever so slightly. 

The conversation with Vaggie had been stilted and awkward—nothing like what it used to be. The warmth, the ease they once shared, was a distant memory now. Every word between them felt scrambled, like pieces of a puzzle that no longer fit together. The silence that followed stretched painfully, and Charlie knew neither of them had the courage to fill it. 

Politely, Vaggie thanked Charlie, her voice strained and tight, before walking away.

You returned then, two drinks in hand, a smile that managed to steady the chaos in her mind for just a moment. 

“You alright?” you asked, your gaze soft but searching. 

Charlie wasn’t alright. She wasn’t even close to alright. But the last thing she wanted was to drag you deeper into her emotional mess—a storm you didn’t deserve to weather. 

So, she lied. 

“I’m perfectly fine!” Her voice pitched higher than she intended, and she winced at the sound. The forced cheer made her cringe inside, but she quickly covered it with a nervous laugh, hoping to drown out the tension. 

You raised a brow, clearly unconvinced, but you didn’t press her. Instead, you handed her a drink, your fingers brushing against hers briefly. “Right,” you said with a smirk. “Well, let’s get this party started?” 

That easy grin of yours—the way you could shake off discomfort so effortlessly—made something tighten in Charlie’s chest. She could only muster a smile in return, grateful you weren’t pushing her for more. 

The party unfolded around her, a whirlwind of music, laughter, and revelry. The hotel came alive with sinners dancing, drinks flowing, and voices raised in celebration. The atmosphere was light, carefree… and yet, Charlie couldn’t shake the weight pressing down on her shoulders. 

She watched you mingle, saw how easily you slipped into conversation with the other guests. Your laughter was genuine, your charm disarming. People gravitated toward you, drawn by your easygoing nature and devil-may-care attitude. 

And that’s when it struck her. 

She was being unfair to you. 

You liked her. She knew that. It was in every lingering glance, every soft touch, every time you went out of your way to make her smile. You’d been patient—so patient—with her, waiting for her to take that final step. To admit she wanted more than friendship. But she couldn’t. Not when her heart was still tangled in memories of Vaggie. 

Charlie barely sipped her drink, the same glass you’d handed her hours ago still cradled in her hands. She traced the rim absentmindedly before finally taking a deep breath and downing the whole thing in one go. The burn of alcohol did little to ease the ache inside her. 

Her eyes scanned the room instinctively, searching… for her. 

But Vaggie was nowhere to be found. 

Disappointment settled heavily in Charlie’s chest, and she scolded herself for it. Let it go. You need to let her go. 

The countdown began. 

Charlie stood at your side, joining in the chant along with the rest of the crowd, but her heart pounded louder than the music. Each number ticked by like a timer counting down to something inevitable. 

Ten… nine… eight… 

Her palms were sweaty, and she rubbed them against her pants, her fingers curling into tight fists. The nervous energy buzzing through her body made her dizzy. 

Seven… six… five… 

Was this it? At the stroke of midnight, would you kiss her? Would that change everything? Would it finally silence the lingering thoughts of Vaggie in her mind? Would she move on? Could she?

Four… three… 

Her breath hitched, her chest rising and falling rapidly as her heartbeat thundered in her ears. 

Two… one… 

A cheer erupted as the clock struck midnight. All around her, people embraced, sharing small kisses and well-wishes for the new year. Charlie’s gaze flickered to yours. You were already looking at her. 

Her heart stuttered. 

Slowly, she closed her eyes, bracing herself. She waited—for the brush of your lips against hers, for the moment that might change everything. 

But what she felt instead was a soft, fleeting kiss… against her cheek. 

Her eyes fluttered open in surprise. You were still close, but the kiss hadn’t been what she expected. Instead of leaning in for more, you took a step back, giving her a smile that was gentle but distant. 

“Happy New Year, cupcake.” 

Charlie’s lips parted, but no words came out. Her mind raced, scrambling to piece together what had just happened. She searched your face for answers, and what she saw there made her heart ache. 

Your expression said everything she hadn’t wanted to admit. 

“I—” she started, her voice catching in her throat. 

But you lifted a hand, pressing a gentle finger to her lips to stop her. 

“Listen,” you began softly. “It’s been fun. It really has.” There was no bitterness in your voice, only a quiet resignation that made the edges of Charlie’s vision blur with unshed tears. “But you and I both know… that’s all this is. Right?” 

Charlie’s chest constricted painfully. Her eyes stung as the cusp of a goodbye hung between you. 

She wanted to apologize—to tell you how sorry she was for stringing you along for months, for being too scared to confront her feelings. But the words wouldn’t come. They caught in her throat, heavy with guilt. 

Her lips trembled. “I didn’t mean to—” 

“I know,” you said softly, your thumb brushing away a tear that escaped down her cheek. “You’ve been carrying a lot, Charlie. More than you should have to.” Your smile was sad, wistful. “But I think we both deserve something more than… this.” 

Charlie’s heart shattered at the kindness in your words. She expected anger, frustration—something to make her feel the consequences of her mistakes. But you weren’t angry. You were understanding, even now. 

It made her guilt all the worse. 

Her breath hitched as more tears slipped down her cheeks. She bit her lip, struggling to keep from sobbing. 

“I wanted to be the one that could mend your broken heart,” you admitted. “But I can’t wait forever. And you shouldn’t have to force yourself to move on just because I’m here.” 

The words pierced through her, shattering the walls she’d been desperately holding up. Her shoulders shook as she fought to keep herself together. 

“I’m sorry,” she whispered brokenly. “I never meant to hurt you.” 

“I get it,” you murmured softly, brushing away a tear that slipped down Charlie’s cheek. Your touch was gentle, lingering just long enough to steady her trembling frame. As your fingers traced her skin, you leaned in, pressing your forehead against hers. The closeness—so intimate, so tender—felt like a final goodbye wrapped in kindness. 

“Loving a sinner is hard, after all,” you hummed thoughtfully, your voice quiet but carrying the weight of something unspoken. 

Charlie choked back a sob, her body shaking as she clasped her hands together in a prayer for forgiveness. “I’m sorry,” she mumbled, voice cracking under the weight of her guilt. The apology felt woefully inadequate—too small, too late. 

You pulled her closer, shielding her from onlookers, though the surrounding crowd was too drunk or distracted to notice the way her world was falling apart. 

“I think sinners have a New Year’s resolution,” you said with a soft chuckle, the sound bittersweet in her ears. “Strange, isn’t it?” 

Charlie blinked through her tears, confused but captivated by the warmth in your voice. 

“Maybe this year, our resolution should be to face our fears head-on,” you added, parting from her gently, as if afraid to let go entirely. 

It was at that moment that realization hit Charlie with the force of a dump truck. 

She never asked you about your fears. Your troubles. Your burdens. 

You had been her rock for months, a steady hand pulling her through her turmoil. But she hadn’t returned the favour. She’d been selfish, wrapped up in her own pain, too blinded by her unresolved feelings for Vaggie to see how much you had quietly endured. 

Her chest ached with shame, fresh tears spilling down her cheeks as she covered her mouth with trembling hands. “I’ve been a terrible partner...a terrible friend,” she whispered, voice thick with regret. “I… I never meant to hurt you.” 

A soft laugh escaped you—a sad, knowing sound that cut deeper than any harsh words could have. 

“I won’t lie,” you said gently, reaching out to ruffle her hair, the familiar gesture making her heart clench painfully. Strands of blonde fell messily over her face, but she didn’t move to fix them. “It’s not great, feeling like a rebound.” 

Charlie flinched at the word. Rebound. It hit harder than she expected. 

“But hey,” you shrugged, as if trying to make light of your own pain, “it is what it is.” 

She wanted to argue, to deny that you’d ever been a rebound. But the truth was undeniable, sitting heavy between you both. 

“It’s been fun, though,” you continued, your smile bright but tinged with melancholy. “Take care of yourself, Charlie.” 

With that, you took a step back. And then another. Until you turned away. 

Charlie’s gaze locked on your retreating figure, her vision blurring with tears. Her lips parted to call out—to stop you—but no sound came. Her voice failed her, just as it always did when it mattered most. 

And so, she watched. 

It was only then that Charlie realized what you had done. You had given her mercy—something she never would have had the strength to give herself. You ended things gently, gracefully. You had set her free, knowing she was too tangled in her past to ever do it on her own. 

She watched as you disappeared into the crowd, weaving through the mass of sinners with the same ease you always had. The path you walked seemed to burn in her mind, the flames licking at her heart until there was nothing left but ashes. 

And for that… she was both sorry and eternally grateful. 

Clutching her hands to her chest, Charlie let out a shuddering breath, her fingers curling tightly against her shirt. Her heart ached with the weight of everything left unsaid, of the love you’d given freely and the love she couldn’t return. 

Charlie stood still, rooted in place as the world moved on without her. 

Where do I go from here? 

Her mind echoed the question, but no answer came. Not yet. The road ahead was uncertain, hazy with smoke and ash. But one thing was clear. 

The road to you… 

Was gone. 

And Charlie? 

She was still standing in the burning ruins.  

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[felagund-the-valiant]

Bring Back What Once Was Mine - Finrod x gn!reader

After the War of the Ring, you return home to Valinor, hoping to finally be reunited with your husband.

Words: 1k Tags: mix of fluff and angst, mention of canon character death, bilbo makes a cameo because why not

A/N: “being reunited after a long time“ is one of my favourite tropes, it‘s the perfect mix of angst and fluff. also i feel like finrod‘s apparent psychic abilities get overlooked way too often in fics, so i had to include them.

You never would have thought you’d see the white shores of Valinor again, after thousands of years. Waves of nostalgia washed over you as the grey ship approached the harbour. Memories of more innocent times passed through your mind. Of being young and in love with Findaráto, of a blissful marriage before the darkening. You wondered if he had decided to return to Arda, if there was a chance you’d finally see him again.

You still vividly remembered the day Orodreth had sought you out to tell you your husband wasn‘t returning from his mission. Up until that moment, you had been praying to the Valar that Findaráto’s vision had deceived him – that he simply hadn‘t interpreted it correctly. You were still amazed that you hadn‘t faded away right then and there, your fëa seemingly torn apart.

“What a magnificent sight!” You were drawn from your sombre thoughts by the elderly hobbit next to you, whose eyes were full off fascination. You couldn’t conceive what it was like to see the Blessed Realm for the first time, but you imagined it must have been overwhelming. “Your stories haven’t done it justice, (Y/N). I never could have imagined such beauty.” You simply smiled politely and nodded. Normally you delighted in engaging Bilbo’s worldly curiosity (only Eru knew just how many stories you had told him about Findaráto specifically), but the inner tension was robbing you of the energy to engage in conversation. What if he hadn’t returned? What if he would never want to return? Shaking off the thought, you told yourself to hold off on the negativity.

Stepping off the ship beside Artanis felt almost surreal. You had been gone for thousands of years and now it felt like you had only left yesterday. A large crowd of elves was gathered at the docks, each of them hoping to be reunited with their friends or loved ones, just like most passengers on your ship. For a moment you thought you had spotted Findaráto,  but on second glance it turned out to be your father-in-law and you were once again stunned at how much his eldest son took after him. Your mother-in-law stood beside her husband, hope shining in her eyes as she scanned the descending passengers.

Artanis called out to her parents in delight and the three of them came together in a tight hug. You lingered behind a little, not wanting to intrude on the moment. It didn‘t take long for Arafinwë and Eärwen to take note of your presence, however, and you were taken into their arms as well. Has he returned? you wanted to ask but Arafinwë seemed to have already read your mind. “Yes,“ he simply said, “but he does not dwell with us, as much as it pains us. He seeks solace and only rarely comes to see us.“ Your heart sank. You knew how much Findaráto adored his family and to avoid them like this was entirely out of character. The horrors of his death must have still haunted him too much. Not that you could blame him – your own dreams had been haunted for weeks by what had been described to you of his death.

You strolled along the beach, following the directions Findaráto’s parents had given you. After a while, a house appeared in the distance – sitting lonely and far away from other dwellings. A lump formed in your throat. What would you even say to him? What would his condition be after what his father had told you? The questions  echoed in your mind until you finally reached the house. It was simple enough, clearly not meant for more than two people.

A familiar, beloved voice reached your keen ears and at last you saw him. Harp on his lap, feet dangling across the water, Findaráto sat on the pier singing a song you knew all too well – he had written it for you in the beginning of your courtship. “Findaráto!” You exclaimed, adrenaline filling your entire body. He turned around at the call of his name and when he spotted you, he hastily sat aside his harp and started rushing to meet you half-way. The two of you collided so hard it almost sent you toppling onto the ground. You couldn’t tell who cried harder.

Even after thousands of years, his smell had remained the same – a mix of lavender and berries, with a hint of sea salt. You breathed him in deeply, feeling the tension leave your body and being replaced by a sensation you could only describe as coming home. Hopefully he felt the same. Entangling yourself a little from his embrace, you finally gazed upon his face. Not a thing had changed, even if this was not his original body – that one would forever rest in the depths of drowned Beleriand. One of your hands came up to caress his cheek and he leaned into the touch immediately. “I have missed you so much,” you whispered. It was an immense understatement, there were no words that could adequately describe the feeling of abruptly having half of your fëa ripped from you. “Me, too,” he whispered back and bent down to nuzzle your nose and press a tender kiss to your lips, sighing as he did so.  

“I knew you‘d come back to me, I just didn‘t know when,“ Findaráto said, a shadow briefly passing over his face. He didn‘t need to elaborate, you knew he was talking about him having had yet another vision. Your heart ached at the thought of how exhausting it must have been for him these past millennia, living in constant uncertainty as to when he would finally be reunited with his beloved, as his visions had promised. Did these promises make him leave the halls early, foregoing valuable time of healing? You decided to push the oncoming guilt away for now. There was plenty of time for these conversations to be had later.

“Well, I‘m here now, and you best believe I‘m not going anywhere anytime soon.“ It wasn’t a mere promise. Nothing would ever divide the two of you again and no amount of sinister visions would be able to change that.

[readychilledwine]

Broken Part 3

Summary - Rhysand and Aelia finally have their reunion, and the consequences of it be damned.

Warnings - smut, Minors go away, or at least don't interact. I'm not your mother. I, in reality, cannot control you, BUT the warning is there. Fluff, some praise kink stuff.

A/N - this is very different from the smut I normally write, but after re-reading the original, it did not feel right. This moment needed to be just... love and worship? Forgive me for any errors, I'm currently editing and rewriting on my phone as I wait for my new laptop to arrive (internal squeeling it's purple.)

Word count - 3173

Rhysand's hands felt like feathers dancing across Aelia's skin. Her back had arched, pressing her chest closer to Rhysand as he kissed down her throat. "I adore you," he licked the column of her throat before gently biting down on her pulse point and making her whine. "I missed you so much, snowflake." 

She sighed happily as he continued kissing, nipping, and licking his way down her body. Her hand had tangled into his hair. "Do you know how often I think of worshiping you," His voice was soft, deep, and gentle. "How often I dream of you?"

Aelia's head fell back further into the pillows when his mouth wrapped around the tender peak of her nipple. This wasn't the hard pent up years apart sex she had been expected. The sex where Rhys would fuck her against the nearest surface with his sole mission in mind being her completion and submission.

This was the gentle sex he treated her to on special occasions. The sex that'd leave them both breathless. Where every roll of his hips into her was laced with emotion. Where every single second was spent with Rhysand whispering his love for her. Where every soft touch held meaning and a message. 

I love you, he purred into her mind. His tongue flicked at the sensitive skin before he kissed his way across her chest. His hands were gripping her hips tightly. As if he was afraid of letting her go, as if she'd slip away like a dream if his grip loosened. 

He had spent years waiting, praying, fighting, and playing all of his card right for this moment. The moment he filled her again, felt her again, could be vulnerable with her again. He had never questioned the Mother nor the Cauldron, even after the deaths of his mother and sister, Rhys understood everything served a purpose.

But what could his purpose truly be without Aelia there, at his side, holding him, loving him?

He moved further down her body. Nipping gently at the skin of her stomach and the faint scars from pregnancy that still lingered. He kissed each one delicately, praising her body for the gift it had given to him before continuing his journey lower.

He couldn't stop the growl that came the second he hovered above her core, nor the quick flicker of his eyes up her panting body, admiring each bruising mark beginning to adorn her pale beautiful skin. He placed a teasing kiss above where he knew she needed him, "Please," he groaned at her breathy voice. "Rhys please."

"Please, what darling?" He knew what she wanted, a feline like smirks gracing his face as he moved her legs over his shoulders and kissed the soft plushness of her inner thighs. "What does my darling need?"

Aelia had never been good at this. Growing up in a conservative household where sex had been a taboo topic. She remembered vividly the first time she had caved to his wants and tried to speak to him the way he wished for. Instead of sex, Rhysand had ended up on the floor laughing while Aelia buried her face into a pillow from embarrassment. She had learned. Slowly, but she did learn. "I need you to play with me, make me feel good. Please."

Rhys bit her skin gently, eyes rolling back as he realized what he was in for. "Need me to lick this pretty pussy baby?" The soft yes please had him grinding against the bed for any friction he could find, his mind beginning to cloud and his cock growing restless. "Lay back, darling. Let daddy take care of you." 

Aelia almost screamed at the first long drag of his tongue from her licking hole to her clit. She sighed softly and whimpered as she leaned back fully. Eyes fluttering shut as Rhysand moaned against her and began sucking her clit gently and rolling it under his tongue.

She tasted like magic. She always had to Rhys. He was hooked all over again, remembering now why any female he had tried to touch after their first casual hook up held no candle to Aelia. He switched between sucking that bundle of nerves to licking her hole and feeling a drunk state set in as he drank her essence.

He moved his hand up, gathering wetness on a single digit before moving his mouth back. "Tastes so good, baby. Like the finest of wines." Aelia whined at the praise, another moan fall from her parted pink lips as he ran his finger up and down her folds. "Did you play with this pretty girl while I was gone, darling?" Aelia's hips tried to move, chasing his finger or mouth as she desperately begged him for more. "Answer my question, Aelia. Did you play with my pussy while I was gone?"

Aelia shook her head, causing him to smirk. "Only yours. All yours." Her voice was laced in need. "Please, Rhys. I need it. I need you." 

His finger pushed in slowly, her jaw dropping at the stretch of the intrusion before a loud moan fell from her lips. Her tight heat was stretching around that single finger, burning her so deliciously she couldn't help but to start lightly rolling her hips. "Such a desperate little thing." Rhys went back to licking her clit, timing each movement of his tongue to match his fingers. 

Aelia was quickly becoming a mess. Rhys had begun a physical assault on her body while playing another in her mind. He was sending her memories. Memories of her riding him, head back in bliss. Memories of her taking him from behind as he forced her to watch in the mirror. Memories of her on her knees for him, cock deep down her throat as she stared up at him with wide blue eyes rimmed with tears. 

She was so lost in the pleasure of it all, she hardly noticed he had pushed a second finger into her until both of them were dancing on that spot inside of her only Rhysand could find. "Fuck! Rhys!" She felt herself tightening around his fingers. His mouth began to work harder. He trapped her clit between his lips, sucking, licking, gently scrapping his teeth against her. Her moans were mixing with breathy pants until finally a band snapped inside of her.

For the first time in 50 years, Aelia truly saw stars. Her mind fell into a lost fog and haze as pleasure rushed from her toes to her stomach. She screamed for him, calling his name as he pushed her over the edge of bliss. Her body shook and shattered with his touch. Good girl, just like that, darling. He praised her gently as he slowed his mouth and fingers. Just like that, Aelia. 

He pulled away gently with on last kiss to her clit but kept his fingers inside of her, stretching her open with a scissoring motion. He kissed up her body, licking each nipple, before kissing her lips gently. Aelia's hands roamed the muscles of his body greedily. Rememorizing the familiar hard planes, mentally noting each new scar. Need you inside me, she told him as his tongue gently massaged hers allowing her to taste every lingering drop of herself. 

Soon, he purred to her. His fingers began to speed up again. And he pulled his mouth away, leaning his forehead against hers briefly before hovering above her to watch. 

That coil began to form again and Aelia started gently meeting each thrust of his fingers. "Look so beautiful riding my hand, darling." Rhys was enchanted watching her face contort and her chest begin to rise and fall again. "Give me another one, baby. Soak my hand." 

He kissed her neck, sucking on her pulse point. Her moans were music in his ears. They reminded him of happy times, of not so distant memories. "I've missed you so much, Aelia." He bit her pulse point, savoring the cry she made as her pain mixed with pleasure.

She was on fire, the magic losing control as she couldn't help but to drop every guard she had. The windows were frosting over, snow beginning to fall harder. Rhys shivered in delight, bringing his body closer to hers. "There we go, darling," her soft inner walls pulsed again. "Cum for me. Let go." He pressed his thumb to her clit at just the right time, causing her to fall off the ledge again and cry out his name. 

Rhysand couldn't wait any longer, all but ripping his hand from her dripping cunt and sucking his fingers clean as he claimed his space between her thighs. He could have her any way he wanted, but he knew this was right. He forced her long smooth legs around his waist and took no more time to enter her in one quick harsh thrust knocking the breath from Aelia's overestimated body. 

"Fuck," he groaned out, eyes rolling back slightly as he felt her trying to adjust to his size. "Feels like home, darling." She whimpered at his praise. "Can I move?" 

"Please." Rhysand set a slow pace, enjoying the soft whines and sighs his wife was making as her hands came to explore his arms and chest. Every deep drag of his cock shot shivers through both of them as he hit all the right places. 

Aelia raised her upper body, resting on her forearms and hands to touch his forehead against hers again, silently pleading with him for intimacy. He could never deny her. Never resist her bright shining blue eyes. He leaned her back down, large hand spraying between her shoulder blades as he pressed his chest against hers. 

Her arms wrapped around his waist and one copied his, going between his shoulders to bring them as close as possible. 

He began whispering words of love and praise into her ear, watching every little change in her face as his hips met hers. She was moaning his name, whispering how good he felt, how much she had missed this. 

Rhys focused in, knowing he wasn't going to last long with the way she was squeezing him and how good she felt wrapped around his cock like a perfect warm sleeve. "Hold on to me, darling," Rhys kissed her gently before switching the angle of his thrusts. 

Aelia threw her head back into the pillows, a lewd moan ripping through her throat as he found his mark. Rhys began picking up speed as her nails sunk into his skin. Each time he hit that spot inside of her, Aelia felt herself slipping from reality. "So good," she panted as she clung tighter to him. "Feels so good, Rhys. Right there, please." 

She could feel that coil getting tighter and tighter, begging to be released. Her walls were fluttering. "Rhys please," he knew what she wanted. She watched his brows pinch together, jaw falling slightly as he began to moan and pant.

"Not yet, Aelia. I, fuck-" he couldn't even finish the sentence, his cock beginning to twitch at the feeling of her walls trying to milk him. "I need."

She kissed him deeply, "Need more?" He nodded desperately, whining as his thrusts became sloppy. Need to cum together, he said into her mind, mouth to preoccupied with moaning her name as she grew tighter and tighter. Almost there, darling. Just hold on a little longer. 

Aelia whimpered but obeyed, moving to lick and nip at the shell of his ear, then his pulse point. She began doing anything she could to offer him more pleasure, suddenly saddened by the lack of wings being displayed.

After a few more thrusts into her tight heat, he couldn't hold back any longer, bringing the hand holding her waist between them to play with her clit again. At the same time that he began to gently circle her nerve point with those long calloused fingers, Aelia bit down on the part of his neck that made Rhys putty in her hands. 

She screamed his name as she came, and he growled and groaned out hers. He growled harder as her nails redug into his back, making him give her a few more sharp thrusts. Her walls were draining him for everything he had, causing their released to mix together on her inner thighs and bedsheets. He began to kiss her sloppily, feeling their hearts racing in unison as he held her tight. He oulled out her slowly, watching as her back arched and then rested on top of her, studying the ethereal haze setting in on her face.

His attention was drawn to faelights in the courtyard suddenly snapping on. "Aelia, is your room sound shielded?" Panic fell over her face as she realized it wasn't because she had not been awake to do it herself. "We have to go, darling. Now." 

There was no basking in the post bliss high of their love making. Not as she heard guards and Kallias yelling. "If you are coming with me. I need to know now Aelia. My banishment is punishable by death, and I will not fight him in his own court." 

She didn't know what else to do, she nodded and clung tighter to him as darkness surrounded them. They landed hard on their marriage bed in the Riverhouse. Rhys was sweating again, the magic pulling so much out of him he had to pause every administration of aftercare and love he wanted to give Aelia. 

He finally lifted her and carried her to their large bathroom, walking into the already filled and warmed waters before sinking down with his wings appearing. 

"He's going to banish me, isn't he?" Rhys nodded, his mouth tightening as he tried to comfort her. "I can never go back?" 

He kissed the top of her head. "I will prove to him I didn't do it, darling. I will fight this so we can still enjoy our Winter home." He made her the promise, unknowing if it was empty words. "Let's not think about it right now, hmm?" He tilted her head up to him, "we just had a beautiful reunion, do not let darkness and sadness ruin this for us."

She nodded, blinking away the tears lining her eyes. He summoned her favorite wine, running his hand up and down her spine as she relaxed back into him. "I love you," she breathed as her head fell into his shoulder. "I never realized how much I truly loved you until you weren't here anymore."

Rhysand paused, his arm resting on her hips holding her tighter against him. "I realized how deeply I loved you when I realized the extent I would go to in order to protect you. To protect our son." Rhys looked down at her. 

"I knew there was a chance you would never forgive me for what I had to do, but I had to risk it. I had to risk losing you as long as it meant you were alive. She wanted you down there. She knew who you were. Knew you weren't in Winter. I had wiped everyone's memories of where you were." His hand come to rub his jaw. "I had to cage memories of Nyx learning to walk, to talk, of him throwing his food so deep down into my mind I almost forgot at times I had a son." His voice cracked. 

"I would have given her anything to protect you two and our family. If she asked for my own head on a spike, I would have let her take it." Aelia clung to him at the confession. 

"I never wanted Feyre, Aelia. I had always hoped it would be you. That it was you, and it had been delayed due to trauma or timing. I was desperate for that snap between us. When it wasn't you, I felt like part of me shattered. Like I would never be whole again."

Rhys paused again as she kissed him, enjoying the feeling of her lips lingering on his. "I went to Spring to reject the bond, darling." The words crashed into her like waves beating against a shore. The intensity of the statement could have cut her. "And when I came back and you were gone. That last bit of me broke. I wanted to chase after you to go there immediately and rip you and our son out of the beds you were in and bring you both home. But Azriel refused to tell me exactly where you were."

Aelia would have to thank Azriel later when she wasn't naked in her husband's lap, when her chest pressed against his watching as he sipped wine. "When Nyx came home, part of me came back to life. I had hope again. We sat for a while, just talking. I learned he prefers hand to hand over weapons training, thinks my taxation system is unfair, and needs to be updated. He has found a way to sneak out of my shields and into an illyrian camp, tricking the minds of everyone there to ensure he could partake in the Blood Rite." 

Pride laced into his voice as he smirked. "I learned from my son that you were devoted to him. That you waited on him, hand and foot pushing your own emotion and physical well being to the side the whole time I was gone. He told me if I didn't bring you home within 3 days, he'd leave and stay by your side, regardless of where that was."

Aelia responded, pulling back to look at Rhys. "I never asked that of him. He came with me by choice and of free will." Rhys nodded. 

"I am aware of that, snowflake. I also told him that Summer would freeze over before I left tonight without you." His face was serious. "Because, I had hoped deep down, your heart and soul were aching for me as much as I was longing for you."

"I will always long for you. I will always be yours." Rhys shut his eyes, basking in her quiet confession. "I love you"

He answered sincerely. "And I love you. More than the stars in the sky."

"Wash my hair?" He nodded, allowing her to turn and began caring for her.  It was a simple act of love. He rubbed shampoo into her scalp and massaged it to eliminate the tension she was feeling. She sighed in content as he washed away the suds and switched to working conditioner into her long white strands. He pushed her hair over her shoulder, allowing it to set for a bit, and began to massage her shoulders and kiss the back of her neck. 

Soft moans began to fall from her lips again as he worked out what felt like years of knots. 

He took her in the bath again. Then made love to her in front of their fireplace. And again on their bed. 

She slept soundly in his arms that night, allowing him to wrap his wings around her to block out the early morning sun that would disturb them in just a few short hours.

Rhys did not sleep at all, too afraid if he did she would be gone. That this was all a dream.

But Mother, even if it was, Rhys could not imagine a happier one.

Tag list: @we-were-beautiful @daedriclys @historygeekqueen

[autumngold]

through the fog

notes: talks of anxiety and descriptions of its physical symptoms, such as brain fog and loss of appetite; finding support and asking for help. other than that, jolly is a great listener and a supportive boyfriend. pure fluff :)

+ english is not my first language. let me know if there's anything I should correct!

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Y/N and Joakim sat together by the living room, tangled in each other. It was the perfect evening: soft yellow lights dimmed across the place; the comfiest hoodies wrapped around their arms; their favorite blankets keeping them warm as the TV played the new season of their favorite show. Her head met his chest as they basked in that peaceful atmosphere, after finishing their plates of warm blueberry pie. One of his arms completely enveloped her, with a hand sat on her shoulder as his thumb gently caressed her skin.

As they silently think of each other - more specifically, of the love they feel for one another - her mind goes back to the past. To when they first started dating and to how different everything was back then. She could remember, quite vividly, how difficult it was to be in the present. To live almost every second of every day with mind fogging anxiety. To not be able to understand where it began and where it could finally stop to torment her brain.

Back then, even this moment would’ve been almost unthinkable. Craving food. Enjoying her fair share of it. She knows that once her brain gets heavily poisoned by anxiety - or that unexplainable hit of soul crushing sadness - she’s quick to lose appetite. That was, in fact, one of the first and most explicit signs that something was wrong with her. On top of all the torment, there’s still a roaring stomach, ignoring the fact that her mouth is dry and her throat is almost closed.

It’s not even that she didn’t like eating - for fuck's sake, she loved food - all the delicious flavours that came with it, the shared joy around the table, or even a simple meal enjoyed by herself on a random thursday night - it was everything. But her body didn’t comprehend that anxiety made almost everything seem impossible - even the things that felt most natural and familiar could get slurped in the relentless whirlwind that was anxiety.

Noticing that she had become distant, her boyfriend softly calls her name, saying:

- y/n, my love, is there something wrong?

And she replies:

- I was just thinking about the first time I actually opened up to you. All the pressure surrounding me at the time, suffocating my brain; how difficult it was for me to do pretty much anything. And it was almost completely overbearing until I decided to tell you the truth - that I wasn’t feeling fine and that I wanted it to change - that I needed to go back to feeling normal and safe in my own body. That I needed help.

Jolly looks at her attentively, listening to her speak. He carefully holds her face, as she turns to look into his eyes; her own seeming a bit lost, coated in a painful memory. She then takes a deep breath and says:

- That night I cried so hard I could barely speak. Yet, you found a way to understand me and guide me through my pain. It was not your responsibility and you knew how scared I was to trust you, but still, you translated all that fear, hurt, anger and shame into words.

He looks at his girlfriend - his y/n - with a soft smile on his lips, barely there - as if he had already seen it coming - her thoughts, feelings and words being second nature to him now. He gently caresses her hair, moving his hand to touch her face, carefully bringing y/n closer to him. As he presses a kiss to herforehead - one of those longing, slow and thoughtful kisses - all Jolly - he answers:

- That was the night, I believe, I learned to speak a new language, my dear. And I mean it. That night I understood a bit more about how you needed to be loved, at least at that time. And you know how everyone says that, to do something well, you should spend at least ten thousand hours practicing it…

She faintly smiles, nodding her head.

- That’s exactly what I plan on doing. By now I have lost count of how many hours I got to spend loving you. Learning whatever language it is that we must speak that day. And I feel at peace knowing that I’ll do ten, twenty or infinite thousand hours more translating your heart into reality, my dear. I can’t wait to learn new vocabularies with you throughout life, for I know that life’s own nature is change. For that, I hope our love remains. And I'm open to understanding you at each and every moment. Whenever you ask, my angel.

She looked up at him in awe. It felt like she would crumble, melt into his arms and down to the wooden floor, in that order. Her heart felt like a thousand fireworks explosion, all at once. Her brain felt at ease, for the first time in God knows how long. All she could think about, all she could feel in her bones, under and through her skin, from head to toe, was love - that tingling, wonderful, peaceful haze that is love in its purest form. Quite the total opposite of anxiety.

Blinking slowly, y/n looked up to his eyes and said, almost in a whisper:

- There were times where I wondered if I was, in fact, alone in the world. I've always been around other people, and truly believe I am loved by some of them, but was never really heard - let alone understood. Since you came around - since the first time I told you how bad I needed to lay my head on your chest and cry everything out - I knew that you were made for me. When you held me close and said I was safe - that’s how I come to believe that a higher power, or a greater force, or whatever it is that one could call it - it must be real. Because you do exist in my life and I couldn’t be happier, more thankful about it.

As she moves closer to him, letting her face rest against the curve of his neck, he lets out a content laugh, gently scratching her back. He presses a kiss to the top of her head and says, warmly:

- That’s really kind of you, my dear. I believe, then, that if our love is proof of the existence of any greater being, I should let them know I’m really thankful for their gift: this piece of heaven that is to share a home with you.

[itsawhumpsideblog]

A Safehouse Christmas Story, pt. 1

On the first day of Christmas, My true love gave to me A partridge in a pear tree.

Temperatures dropped below freezing and Mikey's shoulder ached even more than it usually did. Mistress said that was because of the weather and that there was going to be snow, and Master agreed and made sure there was a blanket around Mikey's shoulders. It helped, at least a little.

When the snow did begin to fall, Mikey found it hard to feel warm, even in the house with blankets and central heating. He remembered too vividly how it had been to spend such nights outside in Master's garden, when he was grateful that his rounds, plodding around and around the house in all weather, kept him from freezing. The snow had been welcome then because, for reasons Mikey did not understand, it was warmer than those cold, clear nights when you could see all the way to the stars. On those nights, the cold would settle into his bones and it never quite seemed to go away in the next afternoon's sunshine.

Now, sitting on a couch with Nathan and Francis right there to keep him company, Mikey tried very hard not to think about those times. They were over, as Mistress reminded him with a sad smile when she saw that he was looking out the window and his gaze was on something far away. He tried to smile back and nod, but he couldn't help shivering.

"Are you still cold?" Mistress asked, but he shook his head. It was too complicated to explain, but it wasn't a physical kind of cold, that could be solved with a blanket or a heating pad. It was something farther down that that.

Mistress didn't look like she believed him, but she didn't press, which Mikey appreciated. All she said was, "We'll have something to take your mind off it soon enough."

The mysterious nature of the pronouncement was enough to do that, all by itself. It wasn't like Mistress to hint at things or say anything but what she meant, which was its own kind of challenging, Mikey reflected. He was used to being told things, but they were always orders. Whereas Mistress just talked about whatever was on her mind, often to him, when he went into the kitchen with her and kept her company while she cooked. He never knew how to react, but she hadn't gotten upset with him for that, so perhaps she didn't mind.

Mikey's mind wandered off, in the same high-speed muddle it had been in all day, since he had started feeling that strange cold and remembering last winter with a crueler Master. He was so deep in the recesses of his mind that it took him a moment to realize that the cold was physical all of a sudden. The door was open and, from the way he could feel the air coming in from outdoors, was staying that way.

"Angie?" came Master's voice from the door. "Can you help me?"

Mistress jumped up and hurried out of the room. Three pairs of eyes followed her and then they heard her exclaim, "A real one? I was expecting plastic."

"I know." Master's voice sounded sheepish. "But... these smell better. And all it needs is water."

Mistress laughed. "Okay, sure, whatever you say. Is that the stand?"

"Yup. Can you take one end? It's not heavy, just... big."

And as Master and Mistress came into the room (he could hear the door shut behind them) Mikey couldn't help but stare. He had never seen anything like it before. They were carrying an entire tree- a small one, but it was a tree, all right. In their very own living room, a real tree!

Mikey looked around in bewilderment, which only deepened when he saw that Francis didn't look surprised at all and Nathan was actually smiling. What on earth was a tree doing in their house?

Tag list: @pigeonwhumps, @cepheusgalaxy, @i-eat-worlds

@honeycollectswhump @taterswhump, @starfields08000

@whumpsday, @fruitypinapple00, @currentlyinthesprial

@maracujatangerine

[scarlet-cookie]

Doksoo short angst fic (51!KDJ and “HSY”)

Based on the third part of this post by @lialox

[Kim Dok ja]

The fourth wall’s voice came in and out randomly, as if it was also running out of things to converse about.

Which regression turn was it, now?

I couldn’t remember.

I closed my eyes. A blurry vision of Yoo Joonghyuk sleeping soundly on a quiet night with his companions surrounding him came to mind.

He was asleep, huh..

My sight returned back to the empty subway. 

I thought about Yoo Joonghyuk’s companions around him again.

…

Deep down, did I wish my companions were here, as well?

It would hurt them.

My stories were still slowly floating out the window. Perhaps, by the end of this turn, I would truly forget all of my memories.

A tingling sensation began to creep up my chest. It was a thought.

[N ot a go od ide a]

The fourth wall spoke, as if knowing in an instant what I was going to do.

I let out a faint chuckle.

“But if I don’t do it now, will I ever be able to say those words again?”

The comments I wanted to make on the Ways of Survival one last time.

I slowly drew in a deep breath.

[Bookmark “Director of the False Last Act” has been activated!]

The memories I recalled about Han Sooyoung. Both of the one I knew, and the one who saved me. Tls123. The memories I had of them began to slowly float up to the surface of my consciousness.

“Who do you think…”

“A very big baby..” 

“You, you…”

“You better read it…”

“Even if it’s over three thousand chapters…”

Some memories I recalled vividly, some I weren’t sure if it was just my imagination. Nonetheless, all those moments began to converge into one single avatar.

A figure slowly materialized in front of me. A tiny portion of my stories sank into that figure.

A young woman of short stature, her dark hair flowing down to just about her shoulders. A beauty mark beneath her right eye. The white coat that fitted over her body. 

I stared up at that figure’s dark eyes.

[Due to the “Most Ancient Dream”’s blessing, the skill’s application period has been changed to infinite.]

I wished this moment could last forever, too.

“Hey, why are you crying!?”

The avatar behaved exactly like how I expected Han Sooyoung would. She removed the lemon candy sticking out of her mouth and shoved it hurriedly down her pocket. She then picked out another one from somewhere.

“Hey..”

That lemon candy wasn’t forcefully stuffed in my mouth. Instead, she simply bent down and handed it to me.

One of my hands was still holding onto the phone, and the other was covering my face. Han Sooyoung’s concerned expression deepened.

“Tch.. guess I’ll have to do it myself.”

She carefully unwrapped the candy and waved it over my mouth.

“Say ahh.”

Was it because I looked like a child now? I couldn’t help but get slightly annoyed. Nonetheless, I decided to play along.

I opened my mouth as she placed the candy on my tongue.

The lemon candy had no flavor.

Han Sooyoung threw herself onto the seat next to me with a thud, patting my hunched over back softly.

[The fourth wall is shaking!]

[The fourth wall is shaking..]

[The fourth wall…]

After a while, the messages slowly disappeared. Maybe that guy decided to go away for a while.

“What’s wrong, huh?” Han Sooyoung asked, snapping me out of my short trance. She looked down at the phone in my hand.

“You’re reading it again?”

This time, instead of sounding annoyed, she sounded rather gleeful.

I nodded softly. “Yeah.”

Han Sooyoung smirked.

“It was a really great story, isn’t that right?”

The phone I held fell onto the cold floor with a soft thud. Tiny pieces of glass broke off from the screen, but I couldn’t care less.

I’d said something like that before, didn’t I..?

I nodded again, biting down on my dry lips.

“Yeah.”

“What do you think about it?” 

I couldn’t stop myself now. The words began to flow out of my mouth like water bursting out of a broken dam. The words I’d always wanted to tell her, the author. The comments I could no longer write. 

As I kept rambling on and on, her expression shifted along with my energy. She laughed when I got upset, and sarcastically consoled me at the parts that saddened me. 

One thing was consistent, though.

She would smile whenever I mentioned I loved this story more than anything.

I couldn’t tell how much time had gone by. I kept talking as my stories kept floating away. Is this what they mean when they say “time flies by when you’re having fun”?

I’d stop at certain points to catch my breath. Whenever that happened, I’d notice our reflection on the subway window. A young woman with a child whose clothes are too large for his body, both wearing the same white coat like a bring-your-parent-to-school day silly getup. Han Sooyoung would notice what I was seeing, too.

“You look horrible in that.”

But in my eyes, all I saw was a child talking away happily to his guardian.

I smiled.

“I know.”

As the time kept going by, I began to grow tired.

Of talking.

Even though I still had a million more words to say to her.

Han Sooyoung’s soft hand rested on my head, hastily brushing away my loose hair. Without another word, she pulled my small head down to rest on her lap.

There was no familiarity in this feeling. It was strange.

“Sleep, Kim Dokja.” She muttered, slowly removing her hand. My legs were still folded up on the seat awkwardly. She shook her head, as if disappointed. “Stretch your legs!”

I did as she told, letting my legs stretch along the seats. I remember counting the seats each time I was in this position. Originally, it was roughly five seats. Now, it was barely three.

Her dark eyes glanced at me again.

“Seriously…” she grumbled. “Do you need a lullaby or something to sleep? Why am I asking this.. but you’re a child, after all.”

She seemed to direct that last line as a joke.

I shook my head.

Han Sooyoung chuckled to herself, resting her chin on the hand that wasn’t caressing my head.

“Of course you don’t. You’d listen to stories. And only one, for that matter. How stubborn..”

Then, she began recounting the tales of Ways of Survival.

Did Han Sooyoung used to do this?

I had asked myself that question numerous times over since the moment I began talking to “Han Sooyoung”.

If the avatar was truly generated from my memories, then..

Then…

Then how could she be doing things I don’t even expect her to do.

My thoughts came to a halt when she began to recount my favorite part.

Whatever it was, I’d rather relish this moment, even if it’s just for a second more.

I slowly fell asleep listening along to her voice.

…….

When I woke up, the subway was empty again.

I must’ve unknowingly deactivated the skill when I was asleep.

In the dream, I continued to watch Yoo Joonghyuk’s regression turn.

But this time, “Han Sooyoung”’s voice accompanied me.

The author that originally breathed life into this world.

Just to keep a single person alive.

I stared down at my hands, the ends of it still breaking away into the distance.

My stories were leaking out at a much faster pace than before.

[Sl e pt we ll?]

The fourth wall’s voice returned. 

I couldn’t answer it.

In a way, it must’ve been one of the best night’s sleep I’ve ever had in my life.

I opened my mouth to say something, but no words came out.

The fourth wall sighed.

[St i ll c ry ing]

…….

Han Sooyoung, who was now in the 1865th turn, was standing guard for the other companions as they slept out of exhaustion. She stared up at the night sky, trying to find the star that shone the brightest.

Just now, she had a rather silly thought, that perhaps that guy would’ve created another avatar to accompany himself in that train. Maybe that avatar would look like her. Maybe that avatar would be patient enough to listen to his ramblings about the story he loved the most. Maybe that avatar would’ve taken care of him in her stead, at least for now.

She felt a small tear forming at the corner of her eye.

“What am I thinking…” 

She shook those thoughts off.

“But that guy would definitely do such a thing.”

[bigmack2go]

Ok so it’s been two days so i think I’ve finally processed everything enough to talk abt it

(Lmao that sounds like trauma. It actually about meeting sky)

So

Yk he texted me to meet him infront of the bar. I read AT the bar so i didn’t see him for a while (i didnt realise this until today) and the. He came in instead. He was rly confused for a second and didn’t see me. He looked around and the other person other than me (besides the bartenders) was some rly old man. Mind you: i told him what i looked like and that was NOT it and he looked a little lost but in an abnormaly adorable way (he was fidgeting with his hands and ahh. Sometimes i forget he’s human/silly so that was a very beautiful reminder of that)

Anyway so i went to him and i he still didn’t notice me for another few seconds. My mind was blank though so i just stood there like 🧍 until he saw me. The next few seconds are just gone from my memory. (I have extreme memory loss and i didn’t take my meds that day so any second i wasnt hyper aware of what was happening, is just,,, gone. And since i have adhd too, that happens a lot)

well anyway so i said “i made something… well they’re not done yet but” and i took the shoes i made out. I asked if he could sign them and he was just like really in shock. He was really flashed by the shoes but also that i wanted him to sign them. He just looked at them for a while and kept complementing them (i died btw) and then at some point he just stopped mid sentence and was like “wait- hold up, did you say you want me to sign those?!” Like he was Not Prepared ForThat At All. Like bro was so flashed and then i think that thing that i wanted him to sign it hit him off guard idk. I magically had a pencil apear (i hid it in my sleeve before that bc for some reason i thought that was a good idea) and he was like doinh a double take at something he didn’t even look away from? Idk. Well so he signed them and he was like,,,, spelling it aloud and it was adorable and i wanna die. (He also really didn’t wanna sign anywhere he shouldn’t and he was rly unsure and askee a few times”

“Okay lets see where do i— where do you want me— there, i’ll sign there is that okay? Okay. Okay so….. there. S. Mhm. K… oh that’s a weird K. And Y. There. Sky. Thats my name” (thats word by word what he said) (how cute do u wanna be? Him: yes.) and then he gave them back to me and there was A LITTLE HEART BEHIND HIS NAME AND WHEN I TELL YOU I ALMOST SCREAMED IN HIS FACE. It doesn’t look like a heart. More like a defirmed triangle but the intention is clear…

Well the. I asked if we could take a foto. Mind you, my phone has one if thos protection thingys where you cant see the display when you lopl from the side. Anyway i dint remember what he said or when he put his arm around me but the next thing i remember his arm was around my shoulder and his face was like…. Touching mine(?) (that sounds creepy as hell wtf) i was really shaking and i couldn’t see the display i just say that he was frowning a little after not taking another foto. I didn’t think anything of it in the moment and just thought he was still suprised i wanted a foto.

Well now this part i remember VIVIDLY. We were tlking a bit more and i was shaking even more now on account of I WAS LITTERALY HAVING one of SKY FLAHERTYS ARMS AROUND ME TWO SECONDS EARLIER.

Well he noticed i was shaking and put a hand on my shoulder (i double died) and then he like hugged me. (I got revived) It wasn’t like a side hug but also not a face to chest hug, but something inbetween. It was slighty awkward but at the same time not at all and ig even felt sort of casua? This time i was caught of guard and i was just staring at the air. (The bardender saw it and she winked at me and i did like a little silent scream with my face and she chuckled) well that all happened in like three seconds tops. So when we pulled apart (sounds like we were kissing WTF) i was like, ‘ok this felt like a good bye hug, this is a good time to leave’ (i regret that with every part of me.) and i started to leave. (He looked a bit confused. He probably thought i was gonna stay a bit longer, conciddering how we talked earlier)

Now this is where the bad thing happened.

Okay so Sky like,,, realises i’m leaving and he’s like “oh okay, uhm well, again, rly like the shoes and… nice meeting you!”

Now what did i do? The logical thing would be (not to leave at all ever again ever. why did i do that???) to say “thanks, nice to meet you too!” But no. Brain-less little me walked backwards (almost tripped) nodded and said “Guten Appetit” IN GERMAN. (For the record sky does not soeak german. And if he did, what i said was “bon apetit” in german. He was NOT about to eat) he looks at me like the moron i am. Like he looks at me like a literal moron like i’m a crazy idiot or smt. He literally did the Albert face when Race says “I’m famous!”(but i’m pretty sure that was just pure confusion. It didn’t look like an action he had any control over)

Anyway so i blush. Turn around and just,,, get away as fast as possible. When he gained back his composure (which was a lot faster than me obviously) he was like “Wait i still have your magic— oh whatever” (i pretended i didn’t hear it cause i was so embarrassed ydek) well it turns out he still had my pencil.

Anyway so then i texted him like this that “what i meant was nice to meet you too. Sorry. Got nervous” and he said “your fineeeeee” and i didn’t know what to answer but i had already read the message. So i take a screen (no tume for copy paste) and send a message to everyone person i can think of with the question of what to say. (Shoutout to @chaosfairy18 who saved me from an actual breakdown there. She answered rly rly fast)

I ended up saying thanks again and that it was rly cool. Then for some reason i said “also my mom says hi” (she didn’t. Idk why i did that. I legitimately do not remember.)

And thats it. I’ve said most stuff before but you wanted to know what exactly happened so here it is ig

[shush-itsasecret]

"I don't know why I'm here"

I saw a YouTube comment that mentioned something about writing a fanfiction where BEAST Odasaku visits Dazai's grave and yup I ain't giving any spoilers just read!! I started working on its art first and then some ideas about the fanfic popped up in my head so here it is!!

Only read after you've already read both sides of "The day I picked up Dazai" and BEAST for complete understanding.

Kindly-

Don't repost without giving credit

Tag me and credit if you draw the idea

No Odazai shipping in this post. I only view them as besto friendo

4. ENJOYY!!

--

The sky is dark. Maybe it will rain today. The slow, cold breeze is blowing, taking with it the gloomy heat of Yokohama. I see some children making paper boats on my way. They were probably planning to play with them in the streets after it rains. Origami. That's what it's called. An old Japanese art of making different animals and objects by the mere act of folding paper. I think I remember Sakura mentioning that she was learning to make origami turtles. I'll have to ask her about it later.

As I entered the cemetery, the earth felt soft and damp under my feet. The familiar smell of wet soil hits my nostrils. Wet soil always smells nice, like reminiscences of the beloved past. But right here at this moment, it felt like the finishing touch of the scenery. It smelt like how a freshly painted portrait smells of paint. I make my way over to the other side of the vast graveyard.

My feet came to a halt in front of a certain melancholic gravestone. Gravestones aren't melancholic. They're just pieces of stone. But this one exerted a strange, eerie aura. The name written on it felt unreal too. Everything about this grave is different. Even the soil smelt differently. It smelt of loneliness and forced heartlessness. The image of his last meeting with me flashed vividly in my mind. The youngest port mafia boss, Osamu Dazai, now lay silent in his eternal rest. They say that death is the same for everyone, and it makes everyone equal regardless of what their life is like. But I doubt the same could be said about this man here. His last words echo in my ears.

"Goodbye, Odasaku"

Odasaku. The name felt strange yet familiar. He was the first who called me by that name, yet it felt startingly nostalgic. Like when you....nevermind. I can't think of a way to describe this feeling.

"I don't know why I'm here" The words coming out of my lips aligned perfectly with my thoughts, leaving no space for contradictions.

"I thought you'd like to be the first one to hear it" The wind blew whistles as if nodding in response. "Kunikida-san and Akutagawa are helping me with the editing. The story you're about to hear is still raw but it's completed nevertheless. I hope you like it" I slid down beside the gravestone. The atmosphere felt welcoming. It was the first time I was reading my story out loud. Maybe it will prove helpful, giving me insights and a new perspective on it. I fixed myself in a more comfortable position and leaned on the gravestone.

The words slipped out of my mouth easily, as if they had been waiting to be listened to by this person. As if from the moment this story came to me, it had waited patiently, solely to make Dazai it's first reader. Or well, listener in this case.

I think I'm forgetting a few parts. it's easier to remember the stories others have written than to recall one's own story. My lips moved easily, in perfect harmony with the whistles of the wind. An instrument. I realized that I was like an instrument at that moment, my words being my music. They decorated the air like stars on a dark, lonely night. Dark clouds roared, and the wind whispered back, creating a back-and-forth melody. Maybe I could spend a little more time here.

I don't know how long it's been now. I left my wristwatch at home for some unknown reason. A few hours is my guess, though I'm not sure. I look up at the sky. A few cold droplets hit my face.

"I'll get going now" I stand up, brushing the dirt off my clothes. The coat had gotten dirty with the mud but that doesn't concern me right now. Akutagawa's babysitting the younger ones today. I hope they don't sneak out and play in the rain. They'll catch a cold if they do.

"When are we meeting next?" I was genuinely startled. There was nobody around. I could have seen them with my Future vision ability if anyone had come. They say that on rare occasions, under specific conditions, the shrieking of wind can sound like a human's voice too. The only odd thing was that I recognized this voice too well.

"I'll come again. There's more to the story and I forgot some parts too." I said to no one in particular. The words left my mouth and evaporated in the air, becoming a part of the scenery. When I looked back at the grave, it felt less lonely now.

I take out a cigarette and the matchbox I always kept on me. 'Lupin', it reads. The breeze behind my back gently blew through the leaves and grass, waving goodbye like an old friend. I think I'll come here again. This place might not be so bad after all.