#I too immediately have a breakdown the second my body does a new thing
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shortqueershakespeare · 2 months ago
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The opening to this Tuesday’s pod had me crying with laughter on public transport, John is such a mood
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pebblestar · 3 months ago
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Mikey x reader
Overwhelmed
【 established relationship n thats that lol. 】
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You were biting your lip and practically glaring down at the paper in front of you.
It's a job application and the amount of questions that they had you filling out was quite insane. That and paired with the fact that you had to write out why you'd even be good for the job.
Apparently the job paid good money, So it was worth a shot.
But every little noise was starting to agitate you.
Especially the TV, And even Mikey who moved every few seconds on the couch behind you.
"Mikey please. Turn down the volume."
The turtle does as you ask, And the volume is turned down.
"You okay dude?"
Mikey asks, leaning over your shoulder to take a look at the paper with some disinterest.
"Just fine Mikey."
You grit back, growing more frustrated as the minutes ticked on by.
There was no reason to be this frustrated- It was just a stupid paper.
Just like school work, but way more urgent and way more important- Especially if you were trying to make money.
Then if you didn't make money you wouldn't be able to eat.
Or pay the rent. Pay the stupid electricity bill. Pay to survive in this world-
Tears of frustration build up in your eyes as the pen clatters somewhere onto the coffee table.
"Y/n?"
Mikey calls out softly.
When you don't respond due to the shame of having a literal breakdown in front of the turtle, He takes things into his own hands and pushes the paper away from your grasp.
"Hey dude. It's fine! It's fine. Let's try working on that later."
The tears flow freely down your cheeks, As you repeatedly mumble out 'sorry'
'I'm really sorry.'
At your current state, Mikey places a hand on your shoulder as if trying to access whether or not you wanted to be touched.
When you don't pull away, He's easily scooping you into his lap and up onto the couch with him.
"Hey. It's okay, really."
You bury your face into the crook of his neck as he rests a hand on your back, slowly running gentle circles up then down in a soothing motion.
There's a pause, before Mikey decides that getting your mind off the pressures of finding a job would be better then telling you that it'd be okay.
After all, he was here with you- and he'd make sure you'd be alright now.
"...That new movie 'Sliver sentry' is coming out soon-"
He presses on, Going on to ramble about how it had been leaked somewhere online that the other members of the Justice force would be making there appearances in the movie too.
For a time, Mikey was the only one talking, but he didn't mind.
You were calming down now, Heart rate returning to normal as your tears dried up and the frustration from having to answer so many questions was slowly dying down.
Instead of rubbing your back, A arm had to come to wrap around your waist, Letting you know that he wasn't leaving anytime soon.
Once his rambling slowly dies out, You mumble out a quiet.
"Thank you. I'm so-"
A finger is pressed to your lips to stop you from apologizing again.
"Don't sweat it. Everyone gets overwhelmed- Thankfully you have such a amazing boyfriend to help you out."
He sends a wink your way and you can't help the fit of giggles that escape you.
"Yeah. You really are amazing, Mikey. I love you."
You look up at him with a soft look, And you notice just how absolutely flustered he becomes by your words.
You press a kiss to his cheek, Only for him to pout in return.
Confused, you ask.
"What?"
"You missed my lips."
A gentle hand reaches up to cup your cheek, before pressing a gentle kiss to your lips.
You practically melt into his touch, Savoring the kiss while it lasted.
He pulls away, maybe too soon, but is grinning.
"Gotcha all to myself now-"
He hugs you closer to his body, practically squeezing you but immediately loosens his grip not wanting to risk accidentally hurt you.
"Now you have to watch Space Dandy with me."
You groan, before he's grabbing the remote turning the volume back up a few notches and going to find the anime he had insisted you watch with him for a few days now.
You had been busy previously due to desperately trying to find a job, but you figured you'd give it a chance and more importantly give yourself a much needed break too.
"Trust me you'll reallyyy like it!"
Mikey's voice brings your attention back to him.
You reach out behind the turtle, Grabbing a blanket from behind the couch.
Without looking away from the TV, Mikey helps you fix the blanket so that the two of you could share it.
With the show now playing in the background, You settle yourself back into Mikey's lap.
"...So what is this even about? Cowboys in space?"
"Shhh! Just watch."
And like that, you allow yourself to fully relax for the rest of the night- The paper would always be there whenever you were ready to return to it.
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catcake24 · 8 months ago
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I have SO MANY feelings about the Chaos Terrans
Okay so… one thing I noticed, which is supposed to be a minor thing, is that both Aftermath and Spitfire came into existence during a fight. I can’t help but think though… yeah they’re corrupted by chaos power, but maybe the reason they literally are BORN fighting is because of how they were made? I mean…
Imagine being aftermath, you’re seconds old… and a van is crashing into you. Maybe he’s scared or angry, and he scans it, before going on a rampage. Next thing he knows, a guy is saying they’re on the same side and offers more destruction, so he goes along with Breakdown. Spitfire is born and is seconds old when she is falling, and her first memory is someone strange that she doesn’t know grabbing unto her and saying she needs to scan an alt mode to survive. No time to think or reconsider, just boom, gotta survive. What if that affected how they woke up… like obviously they’re violent seemingly by nature, but maybe they’re so aggressive because their first memories of existence were so perilous. We don’t even know if they LIKE their alt modes much, which might even mean they hate everything including their bodies and lash out as a result as well.
The Terrans we know woke up relatively safe in a cave, feeling the bond and love of their siblings, and even the triplets with the cave in had family they could trust in very quickly. They had time to pick their alt modes, settle into the world and their family support, find their own purposes.
Speaking of the bond, I wonder if the Chaos Terrans are unstable because they don’t have that emotional bond the Malto Terrans have. They immediately know what love, kindness, and friendship feel like, while the Chaos Terrans didn’t feel that. Not just that, but Aftermath says something interesting: “Lonliness. I would like to be lonely.”
I know he’s annoyed with Jawbreaker, but does he mean he’s always lonely when not around others? Does he feel alone, being the only one of his kind? He IMMEDIATELY seeks out Spitfire as soon as he can, seemingly knowing she was created beforehand just by sensing her, and is super excited to find her too. He even says they share a connection, not too surprised she knows his name.
In Witwicky I and II, they are seemingly always together now - we literally almost never see them apart. They get along really well too, and even seem to care for eachother since Spitfire gives Aftermath the water to recharge and offers to charge the staff next (though jokingly). I think Aftermath even calls Spitfire “sis”. So, and I’m just spitballing here, they do share that sibling bond but it’s corrupted by the chaos power? Or maybe they’re craving that emotional bond since they were SUPPOSED to have it but don’t.
So here’s a fanfic idea: What if they’re resurrected by Quintus power at some point, but still don’t share that emotional bond with the Maltos - they share it with EACHOTHER. They suddenly feel whole, like they woke up not able to understand why they were so angry and lashed out, but now not just feel stable from this Emberstone power but feel complete with their sibling bond.
I can’t imagine either the Maltos or the Chaos Terrans would want to join their family anyways, so what do they do then? If I were to make a fanfic, I’d probably have them run off and do their own thing until they’re adopted by Soundwave who has experience with rowdy youngsters. Who knows, maybe even the remaining Decepticons can come to accept these Terrans. Spitfire would get a new alt mode, and Aftermath would be supportive and maybe find something of his own.
Idk… just my insane ramblings and ideas for these goobers.
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xjulixred45x · 1 year ago
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I'M ALREADY WORKING ON THE REQUESTS BUT I HAVE TO GET THIS IDEA OUT OF MY HEAD BECAUSE I REALLY LOVED TRANSFORMERS PRIME AND SHATTERED GLASS AU, OK?OK
I mentioned in my previous post how SG!Optimus reminded me insanely of Zarkon, from Voltron, and the more I delved into this thought, this idea arose.
SG!Optimus x Haggar/Honerva!reader
Like, taking into account that in SG the Bots and the Cons have their opposite roles, I can see this Prime having met Reader in some kind of technological alliance that there was in his time on Cybertron before the war, (taking this optimus as in Megatron's place) when he was advancing in his political career.
So, for that reason, he has to meet the chief scientist of the autobot/(alien race) project, which ends up being Honerva! Reader, who despite being a brilliant mind, is actually quite friendly and sweet. apart from showing a lot of curiosity about Autobot technology, which causes them to be constantly after Optimus for their constant questions about the Autobots for the operation of the project (Optimus would refuse to accept that he only allowed this at the beginning because it boosted his ego, although he would lie if he did said they weren't adorable)
Ends up forming a strange friendship between the two, Optimus can genuinely respect Honerva!Reader not only for their efficiency in discovering new things for their projects, but also as a very ambitious person who does not say "no" to progress. although that ends up generating conflict between him and Megatron, who believes that Honerva!Reader might be going a "little" too far in terms of their tests.
This gets worse when they somehow manage to find a meteorite on their planet, made of DARK ENERGON. and they proceed to test immediately, even on THEMSELVES. making subtle changes in their personality, they become more hostile towards those who want to distance them from the project, they REFUSE to share more of their knowledge, something is wrong.
but Optimus seems to be an exception to this, if he notices something he simply believes that it is the consequences of working too hard.
until one day, it happens, Honerva!Reader have a breakdown and fait due to their prolonged exposure to Dark Energon, which alerts Optimus, obviously. that by this time they already have a more established relationship.
At this point, the tensions between him and Megatron are already insurmountable, so he doesn't even think about asking him for help, especially when Honerva! Reader tells him they need: Dark Energon, where? the earth of course.
but Optimus realizes that if he doesn't do something SOON, Honerva! Reader could die, so he ends up having Ratchet process the Dark Energon they had and GIVE IT TO THEM, AS MUCH AS THEY CAN TAKE, TAKING IT TOO.
As we know, they both end up "dying" but coming back to life (can you imagine if they had woken up after Cybetron was destroyed like what happened with Zarkon and Haggar in Voltron? It would be epic) and that's how Haggar is born! Reader.
Haggar reader is quite similar to their previous counterpart with the difference that they is a "druid" with various Dark Energon powers, however they are linked to Optimus by being the one who brought them back to life. Even if they come back with anxiety, they still see Optimus in a Master or power light. although in this case it probably wouldn't happen.
Although if it were to happen, Optimus takes the Zarkon route of taking Haggar!Reader as second in command, although not exactly in a military way but rather, well, as a conjux endura, you know what I mean. and Haggar!reader They're just like "oh well, this is my life now"
Can you imagine when Optimus is left in a coma due to the destruction of the first space portal? And how Haggar!Reader with Amnesia ends up remembering their past with him, using the connection of their dark energon to bring his mind back to his body and that will it heal even faster? it would be epic x2
they are definitely the complete opposite of, for example, the Starscream of the original dimension, they are completely loyal to Optimus, they do not question him, they do what he says, they do not hesitate to stab in the back those who THINK of betraying him, and they are respected and FEARED by that for the rest of the Lost Light . in exchange they end up receiving Optimus' unconditional love (they already had it before, but now there is nothing stopping him from having them all to himself).
Haggar!reader probably isn't even allowed to leave the ship or have a direct encounter with the Decepticons, either because the memories of their death upset them or because he(Optimus) doesn't want to risk having to revive them and go through that traumatic process AGAIN. They help in the same ways would do Original Soundwabe, but with Magic Powers instead of tecnology.
Primus prevents someone from plotting against Haggar!reader for the favor of Optimus, he will notice immediately and will have said bot opened ALIVE and he himself will tear off their Spark (probably something that he would like to happen would be that Haggar !Reader will participate in the torture, but ok, there seems to still be some Honerva! Reader. more fun for him).
I also imagine that Haggar!reader is the only one who can REALLY touch Optimus, in the sense that he could be giving an important speech about how the Autobots will crush the Decepticons, with Haggar!reader relaxing on his shoulder or one of his knees. watching everything like a loyal hawk.
Overall, a surprisingly healthy couple of space tyrants✨💜💛
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Shares, reblogs and comments are very welcome!
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h0neypjm · 4 years ago
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Confident 02 | jjk
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↳ Summary: After giving Jungkook the best suck of his life he’s left wondering if what you said was true. Was it really your first time? ‘Cause Jungkook thinks you might’ve lied.
↳ Pairing: Jungkook x Reader
↳ Genre: Smut, fluff, angst, college au, fuckboy! jk, our fav cheeky virgin reader!
↳ Rating: 18+
↳ Word count: 8.8k
↳ Warnings: swearing, mentions of past toxic relationship, mentions of being pressured into sex, mentions of body image, mentions of stds, Jungkook being very confused, no smut in this part
↳ a/n: here it is !!! thank you for all the love for the first part, i hope you enjoy this part ! please feel free to leave any feedback <3 
↳ Series: 01 | 02 | 03 | 04
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Previously...
“She said it's her first time.” He pauses, looking up at his friends' concerned faces. “I think she might’ve lied.”
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“I’m sorry, what?”
Jungkook groans, cradling his head before banging it on the table. The utensils on the table rattle and clang, bringing unwanted attention to his mini breakdown. Taehyung is quick to place his hand under Jungkook's forehead just as he goes in for another blow. “Ok, Jungkook- Jungkook!” Jimin giggles beside him. “Fucking stop, people are staring.”
Jungkook pauses and subtly peeks out of his long bangs, checking to see that Taehyung’s words were indeed true. He breathes out and sits up in his chair, fixing his shirt to play off that he wasn’t just having a mental meltdown.
Jimin rolls his eyes, “soooo are you gonna talk now, cause’ I have a horrible headache and you’re really not helping.”
Jungkook nods opening his mouth to speak. “Alright so uh, I met a girl last night and-”
“I thought you went home?” Taehyung shoves Jimin’s shoulder and Jungkook glares, “yeah, well that clearly didn’t happen.” He rubs his temples, “could you do me a favour and let me speak first, and then you can ask the questions. Ok?”
The two boys nod, settling into their seats as Jungkook delves back into his story.
“Alright so anyways, I saw this girl and like, I haven’t ever seen her before? She was literally perfect”. He exhales looking at nothing at particular as he continues. “Gorgeous face, prettiest lips and oh! speaking of her lips, God the way she sucked-”
Despite what Jungkook said earlier, Taehyung feels the need to intervene. “Ok as much as I love a good suck myself, I need you to stop here, we don’t need the graphics.” Jimin nods in agreement even though it’s clear he’s not paying an ounce of attention. Jungkook smirks at the memory, but it soon drops as he remembers one tiny detail. He places his hands on the table, total seriousness etched onto his face. “But here’s the kicker, she said it was her first time.”
Confusion. 
“So did you or did you not take her virginity?”Jungkook crosses his arms. “No, after that she just up and left.” “Wait, fuck”, Jungkook suddenly realises, “I didn’t even make her cum”, he groans and Taehyung bursts into laughter. This finally garners Jimin’s attention, his dazed eyes squinting. “Who’s the girl?” Jungkook sighs, “if you were listening before you would’ve heard me say that I don’t know her.” Jimin leans forward,“well can you at least describe her? I pretty much know everyone who attended the party”
Jungkook doesn’t have to think that hard. “She was wearing this plaid skirt and like a white top-” Jimin’s eyes widen, “Holy shit, Y/N?! Man, Jin’s gonna kill you.” This makes Jungkook pause, thoughts running back to the text he had received from Jin. “Wait, they’re not a thing are they?” Jimin chokes, “God no, they’ve been family friends since like forever, Jin’s practically her protective older brother.”
That explained his text earlier. Jungkook furrows his brows, more questions beginning to arise and spill out of his mouth. “How come I’ve never met her and if she’s a virgin, then how- how did-”, Taehyung cuts in, “dude she’s done other things before.” More confusion. “And how would you know that?” Taehyung smirks, shrugging as he gets up out of his chair. “I'm gonna get a drink, Jimin, you want anything?” God, his head is spinning. “Sure, you know my usual.”
It was the way Taehyung spoke too casually, like your lifestyle choices were common knowledge. How the fuck hasn’t he met you, yet his friends seem to be well acquainted with your existence? “What the fuck was that look?” He focuses on Taehyung from where he orders his drinks. “Did you see it Jimin? Kinda sus.”
Jimin remains nonchalant, blowing a strand of hair out of his sight before answering one of Jungkook’s urgent queries. “Jin never introduced you to her because well…” He looks Jungkook up and down with an unimpressed look. “You would get your grimy hands on her immediately. And Then after that, It’s like she never existed ” Jungkook opens his mouth, rebuttal on the tip of his tongue. “Don’t argue with me boy, the second you met her, you already wanted her on your dick, did you not?”
Jungkook is shocked to say the least, jaw hanging open as Taehyung makes his way back to the table, drinks in hand. “Oh God, what did you tell him?” Jungkook slams his fist on the table, yet again grabbing the attention of people around them. “That is not true! I have standards, and what about you two. You guys are just as bad.” He points accusingly at the bruises peeking out of Taehyung’s loose shirt, “Look at Tae! Those hickies are probably a combination of the three girls he fucked last week!”
Jimin doesn’t want to get kicked out of the cafe, so he attempts to calm down a soon to be raging Jungkook. “Look, to put it nicely, you’re a heartbreaker, you lead girls on whereas Tae and I actually tell people we’re not interested in anything more than a hookup.”
Jungkook seems to understand where he’s coming from. He can admit, he does have quite the reputation if the amount of times he’s been slapped in the face says anything. But now, with this newfound information, he can also admit that you’ve certainly intrigued him, that was for sure.
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Jungkook wants to see you again.
Not for a rump in the sheets, but rather a friendly conversation. 
It was just his luck that he had heard through the grapevine that you had been invited to one of Jin’s small pool party get togethers. If Jungkook was being honest, he’s quite excited to be within your vicinity again but he knows he needs to keep his cool. Especially after the series of death threats and slaps on the neck from Jin. He shudders at the memory.
And so, Jungkook prepares himself more than he usually does. He wants to do it right this time. No flirty teasing, just friendly innocent conversation. He makes sure to carefully pick out the right swim shorts that display the thickness of his thighs. Not for any sexual gain, more so to show off the hours spent at the gym in hopes that maybe he can get you to become more interested in him as he is to you. He sounds desperate, and he’s sure you’re not that materialistic, but he has this nagging want to impress you somehow. He huffs and does a few pushups, for extra measure of course.
He’s not sure as to why his brain decided to make him act this way. You’re more or less a stranger to him. However, when Jungkook begins his short journey to Jin’s house he really lets himself think, which usually isn't a good idea. 
Jungkook doesn’t know you, but you’ve definitely left an imprint in his mind which makes you all the more fascinating. It’s news to him that you seem to be very close to his small circle of friends which is probably thanks to your deeply rooted friendship with Jin. That new piece of information had been bugging him since the day he met up with Taehyung and Jimin. Surely his reputation couldn’t be the only reason why you’ve never met him. Right?
Parking his car in Jin’s enormous driveway, he makes his way up to the grand front door. Sometimes he wishes he could live a life like Jin. He grew up being fed with a silver spoon his whole life. Having everything paid for instead of rolling in the miseries of college student debt.
Once Jungkook makes his way into the large house, he sets down the drinks he had brought onto the kitchen counter and watches his best friends goof around and enjoy the summer sun with a warm grin. He chuckles quietly when Jin pushes Jimin and his perfectly styled hair into the pool. Jimin screams a slur of curses while Jin quickly runs beside a sleeping Yoongi for protection.
Slipping out of his loose oversized shirt, Jungkook scans the entirety of Jin’s backyard, looking for the face that has been haunting him since that fateful night. She’s not here. He reexamines the pool seeing nothing but the chaotic mess of his favourite people, and he sighs. Just as he prepares to step out into the blazing sun, the sound of his stomach growling stops him in his tracks. 
Thinking about you made him nervous. So nervous that his stomach couldn’t bear the thought of breakfast. However, after the realisation that you hadn’t arrived just yet, makes him do a full one eighty, long strides taking him to Jin’s expensive fridge.
His head is already deep into the fridge when he hears the sound of the sliding door opening, revealing a dripping Jin with a small scowl on his face. It seems Jimin finally got his revenge. “I’m starving you got any leftovers?” Jungkook queries, his head popping out from the cool air of the fridge.
Jin grabs a fresh towel and whacks it against Jungkook’s naked back. “What’s the point of even asking when you’re already going through my damn fridge!” Jungkook flashes Jin an innocent grin and glows when he discovers a small bowl of Chinese takeout. 
It very quickly dawns on Jungkook that in order to enjoy a nice warm meal, he would need to heat it up. His stomach all but roars, not used to the lack of food in its system and Jungkook wants to cry. He wants to cry and it's not from the angry hunger pains, but rather something extremely laughable. He has to use a fucking microwave. 
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You’re running late, there’s sweat running down your brow and you feel like your arms will fall off any second. The weight of snacks and alcohol you had brought making you stagger as you finally enter Jin’s enormous home.
The one and only thing that’s on your mind is the refreshing feeling of slipping into Jin’s pool while sipping on an iced beverage. This motivates you enough to put all the strength left in your exhausted being to speedily walk into the kitchen and throw everything onto the counter. 
“AHH FUCK!” You flinch at the sudden scream, hugging your body protectively. Jungkook slowly pops out from behind the other side of the counter, his doe eyes big and wide. “You fucking scared me Jesus!” He exclaims, running a hand through sweaty bangs.
The air had escaped your lungs long before you could utter your next sentence as the sight before you has you freezing. There he was, Jeon Jungkook in all his glory. Tanned skin and taut muscle sculpted by the Gods. You didn’t mean to stare, but how could you not! Your eyes had a mind of their own. He’s glorious, every single part of him, and you’re not even afraid to admit it. Your eyes are quick to eat him up, tracing the art staining the whole of his right arm and you wonder what every swirl of ink means to him.
Jungkook coughs awkwardly, going in to scratch at his neck. You imagined he would tease you about your obvious ogling, but it never came. Strange. “Why were you hiding?” You ask, dropping your gaze from his body in order to arrange the snacks into neat piles, using it as an excuse to slowly step closer to him. “Oh! Uh-”, he scratches his head, looking down at his feet before jumping five feet into the air, a startled gasp leaving his lips when the timer of the microwave goes off. 
You burst into laughter and Jungkook flushes in embarrassment. Jin had told you about Jungkook’s embarrassing fear of microwaves but you never thought you would see it first hand. You hold in the laughs that tickle your throat and try to settle him down by lightly touching his shoulder. He flinches at your touch.
“Are you okay?” You’re really close to him now. Your chest is practically pressed up against his and Jungkook gulps. How was it possible that you could look even more stunning than the last time he saw you? Your cheeks are glowing from the soft golden rays of the afternoon sun and the way you look up at him, your soft smile curling makes his head spin.
“Yeah, I’m good”, he breaks eye contact in embarrassment. “Sorry, just uh, microwaves are scary you know?” You giggle up at him. Is this really Jungkook? The Jungkook you’ve seen flaunting a new girl every week just to abruptly break her heart when he can’t promise anything more than sex? 
You’re not complaining, he’s quite adorable like this.
You’re not too sure why his personality has the sudden switch up. It could possibly be the fact that he’s with his closest friends and doesn’t feel the need to put up his playboy persona. Although, the way he blushes when he looks at you plays a different story. Do you make him nervous? Surely not, if the memories of that heated night are anything to go by.
“So uh, are you gonna head into the pool?” His empty stomach is long forgotten as he gestures to the large backyard, you nod up at him excitedly. It’s then Jin decides to bust back into the kitchen, a stern gaze set on his face. “Y/N, can I speak with you for a minute?” Jungkook cautiously takes a step away from you, your bodies no longer close to each other and you notice this with a small frown.
“Yeah, sure”, you relent walking over to Jin who places a protective arm around your shoulders. Unknowingly to you, Jin traps Jungkook down with a hard stare and signals Jungkook to go outside, to which he accepts with a nod.
“I know what you’re gonna say, and no I do not see him like that”, you cross your arms defensively. Jin sighs, “I just don’t wanna see you get hurt again.” He places his hands on your shoulders, full lecture mode on. “Let’s face it, you’re a hopeless romantic, I can’t trust that you won’t do something stupid, but you and Jungkook… You’re both important friends of mine and-” 
You’ve heard his overprotective brotherly speech plenty of times, “I know, and I’m so thankful that you’re looking out for me. I just don’t see the harm in befriending him, you’ve never let me speak to him before.” Jin releases his hold on your shoulders to fix the mess of his wet hair, “and there's a reason for that.”
Why was he so damn hard-headed. Jin loves Jungkook like he loves his family. It just didn't make any sense to you that Jin could approve of their friendship but when it comes to you, he completely shields you away from any interactions with the so called playboy. 
“When are you going to stop protecting me from boys?” Jin senses your frustration immediately. “I may be younger than you, but I’m also an adult just like you. An adult that can make her own choices.” You exhale slowly, “You’ve let me befriend your whole group and they’ve been nothing but wonderful to me, I don’t see the wrong in getting to know Jungkook.” 
Jin lets his guard down. You do have a point, maybe he was being a little too overprotective. He gives you a soft smile, you look away. 
“You’re right, I am in no position to dictate your decisions and who you choose to hang around with, it was wrong of me to treat you like that. Jin looks out into the pool, watching Jungkook tackle Taehyung. “I’m sorry I was a bit too harsh, Jungkook’s a good kid, he just got into the wrong crowd at first. Although, you gotta promise to tell me if he hurts you, cause he knows I’ll beat his ass.” 
You laugh accepting his apology, “are you sure about that? He’s a literal muscle pig.” You both begin to make your way outside and Jin shoves you slightly, “hey! You know I’m right.” Jin shakes his head and brings you into a comforting hug. “Yeah, yeah whatever.” He rolls his eyes, you beam up at him and together you walk out into the warm sunlight.
It hadn’t even been a second since you stepped outside, and already Yoongi’s long term girlfriend, Jieun is squealing your way. “Y/N! I’m so happy you're finally here, the amount of testosterone out here was starting to make me feel faint.” You giggle at her exasperated tone, pulling her into a tight hug. 
Nonchalantly you peel off your flowy sundress, it’s stickiness from your sweat making you cringe. “I missed you last week, why didn’t you come to class?” Jiuen pouts, “I'm sorry bub, I somehow caught a cold, but I trust you have some notes for me.” 
The way Jieun flutters her lashes at you innocently forces a roll from your eyes. Slathering sunscreen onto your arms, you reprimand her, “I swear you’re only using me for my notes, you literally never listen in class! Can you get my back please?”
She hums while you turn around, her small hands kneading sunscreen from your shoulder bones to the small dip in your back. Jieun continues to blabber on about the joys of life, not even checking if you’re listening to a single word she says. Instead your eyes are zeroed in on a certain someone.
Your staring is blatantly obvious but you don’t care. It’s only when Taehyung spots your burning gaze with a small smirk does he signal Jungkook to turn around to meet your flirty grin.  
Holy shit
The sun does a real great job of highlighting the gorgeous curves of your body adorned in quite possibly the smallest baby blue bikini he’s seen on a woman. Your breasts practically spill out of the tiny triangle cups and the pretty colour compliments your skin beautifully. 
Whilst Jungkook can admit you have one of the hottest bodies he’s seen in a while, his eyes surprisingly don't linger on your delicious curves for too long. Instead, he finds himself utterly enamoured by the way your eyes crinkle slightly when you smile prettily at him, your cheeks glowing with it. 
It suddenly dawns on him that you are the first girl that has truly enchanted him, and no, your ridiculously gorgeous body had little to do with it. 
Jungkook does not mind this change one bit. 
So, instead of staring at you like a gaping goldfish, he matches your flirtatious body language with a boyish grin and a small wave. His previous nerves dissipating only to be replaced by confidence and polished charm. He doesn’t want to scare you off with his sudden look of epiphany just yet, but the new unfamiliar feeling you give him is surely doing exactly that.
“My, my, Yoongi wasn’t lying.” Jieun stifles a giggle when she notices how Jungkook’s attention has steered towards you and only you. You’re quick to turn around, brows furrowed. “What are you on about?” 
“Oh you know… You and Jungkook”
You grimace, tired of the repeated topic of conversation. “Just because I sucked his dick once does not mean we're a thing” 
“Oh really? He’s asked me an awful lot of questions about you I was beginning to think otherwise”
“Wait, really?”
Jieun has the widest cheshire grin plastered on her face, it's starting to look quite unsettling.
“Really.”
You’re thoroughly shocked to say the least. You thought your fast, fleeting blowjob, sort of, was nothing special. A usual escapade to get his daily fill. Ordinary. Unmemorable.
However, it seems to be quite the opposite.
Jieun grabs your hand and swings it back and forth, exactly like a mother would do, although she’s merely two years older than you. “I know Jin’s been up your ass about Jungkook and frankly I don’t blame him he’s still a little shit from time to time but, he’s actually quite fun to be around and honestly I think his playboy tendencies seemed to dial down a bit since he met us.” The two of you giggle quietly amongst each other, quick feet making your way closer to the pool to avoid the scorching pavement.
Your toes are the first to dip into the pool and you practically moan at the cold water melting away the blistering haze that sticks onto your skin. The water is icy at your waist and you love it. “So my advice would be not to worry about him, instead it's his little army of plastic bimbos that you should watch out for.” 
“Ahh, internalised misogyny. We love to see it.” 
Jieun acknowledges you with a hum as the two of you float around the calming abyss. She then swims closer to you, nodding her head into the direction of a lonely Jungkook, who lazily stares at your alluring form. “I think your loverboy over there wants to talk to you.”
Jieun swims away before you can protest, leaving you to face the handsome man before you. His eyes are round and docile, yet his stare is tantalising, it pulls you in as if he’s slowly reeling you in with a rope. 
The water delicately ripples around your body when you approach him and you internally sigh in awe at the striking features of his stunning face. You want to use this opportunity to finally get to know him, and perhaps form a new friendship. 
You take note of the lack of Jin’s hawk-like eyes or for better the lack of any eyes on the two of you. You’re alone, huddled into one of the far corners of the pool, your conversation private, just for two pairs of ears. 
You open your mouth to speak, “So-”
“I-”
An uncomfortable silence stills the air and you both halt your words to giggle quietly amongst yourselves. God, this is awkward. 
“You go first”, You offer, tucking a wet strand of hair behind your ear. Jungkook follows the subtle movement of your fingers before taking a deep breath. 
“I feel like we should discuss the elephant in the room”
You're stunned. “Huh?”
“You know… That Friday night?”
Of course you knew what he was referring too, yet you wondered why as you honestly didn’t think that night had much impact on the man. 
With a raised brow you ask, “What about it?”
“I’ve just had a lot of... thoughts”
You scratch your head feeling puzzled. You’re sure Jungkook has had better blowjobs in his lifetime. Hell, Jungkook did most of the work that night. “Do you usually discuss the past hookups you have, or am I just lucky today?”
You’re teasing him, nevertheless Jungkook tilts his head back towards the sky. All he wants is clarification, only this conversation is heading down an awkward path, so he decides to spit out what’s been bothering him for the past few days.
“Okay listen, I know this is odd to say, but ever since that night, It’s like I can’t get you out of my head.”
Your ego inflates at his statement and you smirk. You knew you could suck dick well, but according to Jungkook you seem to have quite the talent.
You smile proudly, “damn, look at me go, I can’t believe I have the campus playboy wrapped around my finger.”
Jungkook scoffs, both in annoyance and embarrassment because shit, he could have worded that differently, now he sounds like the clingy girls he fucks.
“Yeah, yeah let’s not pretend like I was the only one enjoying myself here. Weren’t you the one practically begging to be touched?” 
You’re amused. “Weren’t you the one who couldn’t make me cum. Yet came from their own handjob?”
Jungkook tongues his cheek and looks away. The way you speak so casually intimidates him. No girl has ever spoken to him this way, in fact, Jungkook’s the one who usually likes to tease. He can slowly feel the creeping heat alighting his cheeks and God does he hope you don’t notice.
You patiently wait for Jungkook’s reply, a sly grin adorned on your pretty face. However, Jungkook doesn’t say anything, rather he frowns and immaturely splashes water at your face. 
“Jungkook!” You sputter, wiping at your face to rid of the chlorine in your eyes. “What the fuck was that for?”
He shrugs, “sorry my hand must’ve slipped”
You don’t take that for an answer, your petty nature crawling out as you splash him back harder than he had done. “Hand slipped, my ass.”
You cross your arms smugly, a small laugh blossoming out of your mouth when Jungkook cutely rubs at his eyes. 
It’s after a minute when you realise Jungkook hasn’t stopped furiously rubbing his eyes. The circular motions of his hand move so intensely that it begins to look painful and irritating. “Fuck, it stings”, he exclaims in agony.
Shit, you inwardly curse, gently touching his wrist, concern lacing your features because you didn’t think getting chlorinated water in one's eye would sting that much. You analyse his facial expressions closely and you wince at the redness surrounding his eyes from his harsh rubbing. 
On the contrary, Jungkook knows exactly what he’s doing. He’s competitive and won’t back down from a fight, even if it’s just fun banter, so he continues his little scheme just for the fun of it and hides his small grin under his large hands.
You’re now slightly panicked, “fuck, Jungkook I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hit the water that hard I-”
Jungkook cracks.
Ever so slowly, he peeps his eyes out at you and watches with a mischievous smirk as your face morphs from alarmed to annoyed in less than a millisecond.
You tighten your grip on his wrist and attempt to slap his hard chest with your free hand, however Jungkook’s reflexes are fast and he grasps your hand tightly, a teasing glint in his eye. 
“You little shit-”
All of a sudden a loud holler is heard from the front door, rousing a relaxed Jin out of his chair as he sprints while simultaneously yelling at the ruckus being made. It’s then a stampede of both familiar and unfamiliar faces come crashing in. Some jump straight into the pool to cool off from the blazing sun while others rush to the table of assorted alcohol, desperate to get an ounce of it in their system.
Word seemed to go around about Jin’s supposed small get-together unbelievably fast, causing the once tranquil Kim Seokjin into a raging volcano. 
You’re pressed right up against Jungkook’s solid chest and he surprisingly pays you no mind, even though your perky tits are deliciously pushed up perfectly against his body. Jungkook’s eyes are not settled on them, rather he pays close attention to the amount of people dangerously plunging into the pool at a fast rate.
Jungkook protectively hugs your shoulders to shield you from the rowdy party goers who definitely do not understand the definition of personal space. Your heart swells when he then delicately places your head in the crook of his neck and wraps an arm around your fairly exposed body, essentially guarding you from frantic wet limbs and ignorant individuals.
You feel comfortable and safe, so comfortable that you wouldn’t mind staying like this for a while if it weren’t for the throng of college students delving into the cooling water. 
Jin’s house begins to fill with unexpected guests very quickly and you wonder how Jin is handling the situation. You suppose not very well when you see him whipping people with towels, red ears making an appearance and his booming voice following him.
Jungkook wants to get out and he’s sure you feel the same way which is why he smoothly slots his hand into your own, long fingers wrapping around your hand to carefully pull you through the growing crowd of people in the pool.
Whilst pushing past a variety of college students you are met with many stares, even worse, numerous envious eyes and whispers of possible gossip. You try your best to avoid their gazes, the hard stares reminding you of the last time Jungkook held your hand to push through groups of people. 
Water drips down the curves of your body and lands in little pools around you when you step out of the pool. At this point you’ve garnered even more turning heads that examine every inch of your skin closely. Their stares itch your skin and you feel akin to an animal kept in a zoo enclosure, curious eyes breaking down your confidence, you want to hide. 
You usually like to pride yourself on your confidence because you know you’re hot and you know your worth. It had taken many failed relationships to build up your self love and nourish the scars and memories of questioning if you’re good enough. 
You fight on and squeeze Jungkook’s hand, mostly for some sort of reassurance. It shocks you when he astonishingly squeezes back and softly rubs his thumb over the back of your hand. It’s almost as if he knows how you’re feeling. 
You glance up at him shyly. Jungkook keeps his eyes straight ahead. He smiles a different kind of smile than the one he had directed to you a few hours ago. His lips are in a permanent smug smirk. His usual playboy smile. He flashes it at everyone as if he’s asking for their approval and even goes in to high-five a few people who are unrecognisable to you. You soon realise that this is what Jungkook thrives on. People, validation and his notorious reputation he’s created for himself.
Jungkook lights up at the presence of crowds, flirty smiles and people calling his name, whereas you want to crawl into your skin and run away because from the perspective of outsiders it looks like you’re just another one of Jungkook’s flings that will soon be forgotten by next week.
Well, you hope you won’t turn out to be one of them.
At last you find yourself away from the heart of the party, your dress in hand but your body still wet nonetheless. Jungkook is in the same state as yourself, droplets of water dribbling from his dark hair and onto the timber flooring. He leans into your ear, “I’ll go get us some towels, stay here.”
He’s gone before you can reply, making small conversation when he passes by various people, his boisterous laugh echoing down the halls. 
You’re alone now, and defenceless at that. There’s not many people you know here, besides the few odd people you share a class with and some sleazy frat boys that hold a similar reputation to Jungkook. You want to find Jieun so you can hug her or maybe ask her if she can take you home, but she is nowhere to be found.
Fuck, You remember leaving your bag on the kitchen table, unsupervised with many personal belongings stowed away inside. Using your dress to cover the most of your exposed skin like a blanket, you stride over to the kitchen and sigh in relief when you find your bag untouched and in perfect condition.
Snatching up your bag, you grab your phone and immediately text Jieun to find out where the fuck she’s hiding, but there’s a part of you that knows she’s probably fucking Yoongi somewhere. Traitor.
Jungkook finds you to be in a completely different part of the house than where he asked you, one towel wrapped around his neck and the other draped over his arm. You haven’t noticed him yet, your frantic fingers texting a treacherous Jieun, “princess, didn’t I tell you to stay put?”
You’re startled. Switching your phone off you stick your arm out, waiting for Jungkook to pass you the towel but he doesn't. Jungkook gently pushes your shoulders so that you turn away from him and carefully wraps the towel around your body like a cape. You hold the edges of the fabric to help him hug the towel around yourself, keeping it tighter to your body.
Your voice is quiet, “thank you.”
Jungkook leans down to meet your face, “What was that?”
Even though Jungkook had been in the pool longer than you, his cologne still sticks to his skin and you kind of want to breathe more of it in, but that would be weird.
“Oh, I said thank you.”
You’re close to him again, although this time he towers over you with a look almost identical to a predator meeting its prey.
Jungkook’s eyes flirt around your face and descend. He shamelessly drinks up the swell of your breasts and whatever skin is visible amidst the fluffy towel around you. It’s strange. You had noticed Jungkook doing the exact same thing when you were alone with him. The difference though was that his looks were cursory as if he didn’t want to make you uncomfortable. Now, It's like a new persona had taken over him and he was ready to pounce at any sign of a green light. 
He’s stuck in a trance, fuckboy tinted glasses fogging his vision.
You force out a giggle and playfully shove his shoulder, “my eyes are up here, you know.” 
His reply comes lighting fast, he’s definitely been in this position before. “I know, just admiring them.”
Jungkook wants to hit himself the second his reply spewed out of his mouth. He desperately wants to reassure your unimpressed (though also very cute) face, because goddammit he wanted to be respectful. Jungkook knows he has a tendency to slip into a new personality when the right amount of people hyped him. Call it being two faced, he knows it's one of his fatal flaws. 
“I'm sorry.” 
He says it genuinely. 
Jungkook only just got to properly meet you, he doesn’t want to give you the wrong impression! He can admit, your first ever official meeting (moreso hookup) wasn’t ideal, yet the way Jin dragged him through the mud undoubtedly made him understand that you weren’t the type of woman that should ever undergo the treatment he puts his hookups through. Scratch that, any woman shouldn’t be treated the way Jungkook treats them.
You're now fully covered under the towel, not a sliver of skin on display. You don’t know if his apology was genuine. “It’s ok I guess, I expected nothing less from you anyways.”
“Right.” He’s messed up.
You clear your throat, “I’m gonna go get changed, maybe look for Jieun unless-”
Jungkook finishes your sentence, “-she’s fucking Yoongi.”
You exhale, “yeah.”
“Jeon Jungkook!”
The voice makes you halt at its familiar tone. Jungkook doesn’t notice your growing panic as he too freezes in his spot. 
No, it can’t be.
The world plays in slow motion when he walks into your line of vision. His assertive stride, smug smile and sharp eyes.
Jeong Suho.
His name explodes inside of you like a blistering fire yet your heart feels ice cold. He is the very man you have spent weeks trying to avoid and even more trying to get out of your head.
The world plays at a normal speed when he approaches Jungkook. Their facial expressions are the same, the way they greet each other is the same. They’re practically the same breed of fuckboy, born from the same mother.
“Been awhile since I’ve seen you around.”
Jeong Suho was a person that Jungkook didn’t really mind, In fact there was a point in Jungkook’s life where he would’ve considered Suho to be one of his closest friends. They were two peas in a pod freshmen year of college. Never giving a fuck about their education and always present for any opportunity to get completely wasted with as many girls they could possibly seduce. Nowadays, Jungkook would rather keep his distance from him.
On the contrary, you were one of the many girls that had fallen deeply for Suho’s alluring charm. You fell so hard, you thought that maybe just maybe there was a possibility that you could secure a future with him. Obviously that was not the case.
You thank your lucky stars that Jungkook was there to distract Suho while you make your haste escape. All you need to do now is somehow locate an unoccupied bathroom, preferably without having to walk in on someone getting it on, and then you could get the hell out of there.
You must admit, you look quite ridiculous right now. Navy blue towel wrapped tightly around your body, your small head peeking through. You could probably pass as some form of E.T cosplay right now. You don’t care if you look rude, pushing and shoving whoever stands in your way. You only have one goal and you’re so so close to succeeding-
“Wait, Y/N! Is that you?”
Fuck.
Do you run? Maybe duck behind some poor innocent student looking for a good time? You huff, you're already sticking out like a sore thumb, there’s no use in trying to hide when the enemy has already spotted you. Even worse Jungkook motions you over with a wide gleaming smile. If only he knew how much you’re dreading this interaction.
Grudgingly, you walk over, looking like an irritated gremlin with your towel still firmly secured around you. Jungkook makes matters worse by pushing the towel off your head, releasing your scruffy ball of hair. You grimace. 
“I didn’t know you knew Y/N?”
Suho sends a smirk your way. You however, glower.
“Yeah we go way back, don’t we baby?”
You force a tight lipped smile, howbeit you look as if you have a mild case of constipation. 
“Sure.” It comes out rough through gritted teeth.
Suho notes your frustration, a sly grin carving onto his punchable face. He turns towards Jungkook, seemingly blocking you from their conversation, yet you know Suho wants you to hear what he has to say.
“You know it’s a shame. Y/N’s gorgeous, ten outta ten body, knows how to put it to good use, however she never let me fuck her. Don’t you think that’s weird?”
Jungkook stays silent for a minute, eyeing your shaking fists and angry eyebrows. Jungkook may be dumb, but he sure knows how to read a room, thus leading him to the conclusion that your relationship with Suho isn’t something you’re very fond of and that he should probably get you out of here.
“Uhhh no, that’s not weird at all actually. What I think is weird is the fact that you think you have this sick claim on every girl you’ve defiled and even worse, you’ve always had this strange need to chase after every virgin you see like some perverted cherry picker. Yeah, that’s weird.”
Suho laughs right in his face, spit grossly tickling his skin. “That’s rich coming from you Jeon, weren't you quite the cherry picker in your freshman days, no?”
Jungkook doesn’t know what he expected from this conversation. It definitely wasn’t this.
It's obvious that Jungkook isn’t a saint, he really fucking far from it. Although, one thing's for sure, it’s his absolute hatred for the way his brain was wired in his freshman year of college. Yes, Jungkook still remains as one of the standing campus fuckboys but he’s gained a few more brain cells since then. 
Jungkook opens his mouth to retort, only to be met with Suho’s back as he turns his attention towards you.
“Y/N, darling if I were you i’d make a run for it, ya know keep your chastity intact or whatever.” His smile is saccharine sweet, though his words are sickly sour.
The months of pent up anger stored within your being bubbles and overflows like a bad science experiment. You’ve quickly decided that now’s that time to expose the shitty excuse of a man, and quite frankly you don’t care that you have an audience. Actually, an audience would make this all the better.
Your finger is strong, pointing accusingly at his broad chest. “You know what you stupid motherfucker? Don’t waltz in here with that dumb smile of yours when you know you have some disgusting cheesy infection growing down there.”
Suho’s eyes widen slightly. It was no secret he was a walking STD, just about infecting every girl that was naive enough to sit on his dick. 
Everyone at the party has definitely stopped to listen to what you have to say. You even spot Jin from the corner of your eye sending you a proud smile. “And while we're on the topic of cheese, Learn how to wash your fucking dick!”
You don’t let him have a moment to speak, grabbing Jungkook’s hand and pulling him out of the house.
A few people applaud, some girls praise you on your way out. You give them no mind, you’ve had enough for tonight.   
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Jungkook starts his car, no questions asked. It’s obvious to him that there’s bad blood between you and Suho. What you don’t know is that Jungkook can also relate. 
Technically there was no bad blood between them, moreso the hurtful memories and manipulation Suho put him through. To put it simply, Suho was probably the worst influence Jungkook could ever have as a vunerable freshman. 
The crunch of gravel and soft melodies that spill out of Jungkook’s radio converse with eachother and fill the defeaning silence that sits between you and Jungkook. 
Jungkook doesn’t even know where he’s going, he just drives. 
Every so often he checks up on you from the corner of his eye. Your knees stick tightly together and point away from him. Your fingers curl and uncurl, leaving cresent moons in your skin. And to finish it off, your face remains still, hostility completely washing over your features. If Jungkook didn’t know any better he would think you’d jump out of his car and make a run for it at the chance of him stopping the car.
It’s seven sniffles later when Jungkook decides he knows where he should take you.
The night sky is clear and the stars burn brightly to accompany the full round moon. It’s the perfect setting for release and maybe a screaming session if you’re up for it.
Jungkook makes a stop behind a forest of tall trees and a dirt path. You sit up immediately. 
“Where are we?” Your eyes are rimmed with tears, “I want to go home.”
Jungkook shuts the engine off, “you never told me where you live.”
“Well you never asked!”
Maybe you shouldn’t have yelled because from the looks of it, Jungkook just wants to help you out and clearly you’re not being the friendliest right now. 
You curl back into yourself, “sorry”, another sniffle.
Jungkook brings your fists into his hands and warmly opens them up. You refuse to look at him, it doesn’t deter Jungkook one bit.
Tenderly he brings a finger under your chin, gradually bringing your eyes up to his. Jungkook takes his time with you, careful to not set you off until you’re face to face with his warm eyes. 
“I brought you here because it’s apparent we both need let out some pent up steam.” He drags his fingers delicately across the curve of your chin and back into his lap. His touch is fleeting, you miss it already. “I just thought you may want to vent or just shout out into the void, it’s up to you.” You nod, fully trusting Jungkook’s intentions. “And at any time you feel like going home just say the word and I’ll take you there, okay?” 
Your heart swells in adoration at his caring nature, though you can’t help but wonder how he can have such a sudden change in personality depending on where he is and who he’s with. It’s unnerving. 
Jungkook clicks his seatbelt off and heads out the car, “put your dress back on princess, I’ll be out here waiting for you.” You mutter your confirmation and do as he asks.
The cool summer air kisses your skin and runs through your hair as you step out of the car. Jungkook is already by your side dressed in an oversize hoodie with another in his hand as well as a fuzzy blanket. 
Jungkook steps closer to you, holding the hem of his hoodie to slip over your body. Without a second thought you raise your hands causing Jungkook to chuckle at how cute you look dwarfed in his clothes.
The same cologne you smelled on his skin earlier lingers on every fibre of fabric around you. His scent is everywhere, swirling around your head, instantly calming down your anxieties. You smile at him, “Lead the way Jungkook.”
Jungkook leads you up a small hill and you notice the trees opening up to display a lush field of grass. However, the sight before you leaves you in absolute wonder. You stand completely still and take it all in. 
The night sky is dark but the city below illuminates is beautifully. Your gaze bounces over all the buildings, skyscrapers and their dazzling bright lights. It’s peaceful up here, you decide as you take a glimpse of the hundreds of tall structures looking so tiny, so ant-like.
Jungkook is settled behind you, his legs comfortably folded underneath himself. He remembers what it was like the first time he saw the view, which is why he doesn’t blame your stunned silence and glazed eyes. 
“How did you find this place?”
You find your way towards Jungkook and plant yourself right beside him. “I don’t know, I was just driving aimlessly one night and found it, It’s nice right.”
You hum, “it’s beautiful.”
Jungkook murmurs in agreement as you lie down on the woolly blanket beneath you. The stars twinkle and glimmer amongst the deep blue sky, creating a serene experience. You shut your eyes.
“I hate him.”
Jungkook looks down at you, you don’t see him though. “Suho?”
“Yeah”, you exhale deeply, “I can’t believe I had to see him again.”
Although Jungkook knows you can’t see him, he swivels his body around to face you properly. “Did you guys date or something?”
You scoff, “pffft you know Suho doesn’t date anyone.” You open your eyes, meeting a pair of round docile ones. You continue, “Suho was the first guy who every gave me an ounce of attention. Before him guys never looked my way. Jungkook remains silent, letting you pour out what’s on your mind.
“Suho had me fooled, I thought I was special to him, thought he saw something in me that was different from the others. Turns out that was his game after all”
You speak so animatedly, your hands wave around in the air, your eyebrows scrunch when the memories come back to you. “It’s stupid really, how I used to gush to him about finding the one person in the universe that was created just for me. I guess he used this as my weak point.” 
Inhale, exhale. 
“He made me believe he was that special person for me, used it as an excuse to pressure me into sex.” A tear rolls down the side of your face, falling perfectly in a straight line. “I almost gave in, but something just felt so wrong. Every time I said no he would call me terrible names, tell me that no one would want me if I never gave them what they wanted. And I believed him.”
Another tear escapes your wet orbs, Jungkook is there to wipe it this time.
“I broke it off after I found out he fucked my roommate and gave her some disease.” You chuckle, “I guess I’m lucky I never let him fuck me huh?” 
Jungkook’s heart breaks at your saddened eyes and the way Suho treated you, he sweeps a stray hair out of you face. “I think you dodged a bullet there princess, what he did to you was pure evil, no one, and especially you don’t deserve that”
You sit up, wiping remaining tears and thanking him as you go, “It’s your turn now.” You pat his thigh, “tell me why Suho got you so riled up tonight.”
Jungkook shuffles in his spot, “It’s actually kind of similar to you.”
You gasp sarcastically, “no way he pressured you into sex too?”
He laughs, eyes squeezing shut, “No, no, nothing like that.”
You lean closer to Jungkook, giving him the same attention he had given you. “My father left when my mother found out she was pregnant with me, so growing up I had no male figure present in my life. My mother stopped at nothing to give me that to the point that almost every week I’d wake up and see a new man drinking out of my favourite mug. I didn’t mind it because I was only a child and some part of me always hoped they would stay, but they never did.”
“My mom was a hopeless romantic. She held so much sentimental and idealistic views on love that it stuck to me. She always told me that there was someone special out there just for me.” You smile at the similar belief, Jungkook sighs. 
“Cut to college, Suho was the first friend I made. I had no experience with girls whatsoever, and I still held on to my mother’s faith. Whenever I talked to Suho about it he would always shut me down or make fun of me.”
“He told me that all my feelings are bullshit, and that I only felt that way because I’ve never hooked up with anyone before. Next thing I knew we were going to parties every week getting absolutely shitfaced and fucking every girl I laid eyes on.”
You nod, listening intently. “And tonight, he hit a nerve. What he said made me realise that I’m just as bad as him. He moulded me into this person and now I have a reputation.”
Jungkook’s eyes drop, “he broke my concept of love before I even got to experience it.”
You never knew Jungkook was in a place like this. You always thought he was like Suho, built to break hearts and show no emotion when it came to love. Jungkook was nothing like that. His heart was truly big, desperately longing for someone.
Placing your hand on top of his own you comfort him as best as you can, “oh, Jungkook, trust me when I tell you this, the love in your heart is not broken. Think about it, most people you’ve met have been through college right?” He nods, “there are so many other people out there that you’ve never met, soon you’ll be able to find that someone and learn how to love. I know you present yourself as this emotionless playboy, but once you let that part of you go it’ll feel so freeing.”
Jungkook stares deeply into your eyes, he’s so thankful that he decided to bring you here, he can’t contain his happiness. 
“Can I like, hug you?” Jungkook asks shyly. You smile, and it’s so big and bright Jungkook might as well be staring at the sun. Before he knows it, you’re tackling him into the most wholesome hug he’s ever had. You’re warm and you smell like vanilla, It feels like home.
“Get up”, he says abruptly, extending his arm to pull up your confused self.
“What-”, Jungkook cuts you off, “have you ever just let yourself scream?”
Jungkook has intertwined your hands together, and your heart pounds at the realisation of how well they fit together. “Well, no but I assume that’s what we’re about to do right now.”
He pulls you closer to the edge of the small hill, the view of the city sparkles right in front of you. “On the count of three, one- two- three!”
You scream, you let it all out and God does it feel refreshing.
The two of you sound utterly insane, but none you give a single fuck. You scream until your lungs burn and your throat itches you to stop.
The volume of both of your voices ring out into the night sky only for the moon, stars and yourselves. The night is still young but Jungkook wouldn’t have it any other way.
With you he lets go of everything, all the past mistakes, all the hurt because at this moment he feels like he could fly, soar into the clouds. 
He feels infinite.
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jasontoddiefor · 3 years ago
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Tyki Mikk is a Clone and I can (almost) prove it
Tyki Mikk is undoubtedly a fan favorite and yet we don’t really know a lot about him. For a character that was created with the purpose of being handsome (cf. D.Gray-Man Manga Volume 5, page 150), he carries a lot of baggage and has a rather unclear past. A theory that has haunted me since I read chapter 198 and has only grown in strength with the most recent arc is that Tyki is in fact a clone of Nea. As far fetched as this seems at start, there is quite a bit of evidence supporting this theory.
1) Tyki’s visible similarity to Nea (and Mana)
One of the first things Wisely remarks on when he meets Tyki is his similarity to “a certain man” (Chapter 187).
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This similarity is picked up twice more in the manga. When Allen meets Nea for the first time (cf. chapter 198), he mistakes him for Tyki at first.
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And it is brought up a third time by Nea himself in chapter 225 when he says:
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To which Tyki, or rather Joyd, has this wonderful reaction:
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But more on that guy specifically later. Point being right here is that three different characters, or four if you want to count Road and Wisely separately, acknowledge that Tyki resembles Nea a lot, down to the man himself. How does that saying go again? Once An Accident, Twice A Coincidence, Three Times A Pattern? This is something that repeatedly gets brought up again. And this is without going into detail on how much Tyki resembles not only Nea, but said man’s identical twin as well. Just look at that dashing long hair!
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And take this from chapter 158 as well
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Pretty long haired boy Mana is nothing new as of chapter 218 and 219:
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Another interesting point here is that Tyki is the exact same height as the Earl in human form! They’re both 188cm tall. Nea, on the other hand, is listed at being 177cm. This could just be that Nea unfortunately ended up as the shorter twin, or, we take into consideration what Mana tells Allen/Red in chapter 238:
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He remembers being seventeen, which means that he and Nea probably weren’t done growing yet when the “Earl” corrupted Mana. (It also kind of makes everything about Nea more hilarious if you realize he’s just seventeen.) Tyki, however, is 26 when we first meet him and should be around 27 now. He is an actual adult and not bound to hit another growth spurt.
But to summarize the first argument: Tyki looks uncannily similar to Nea and Mana and the manga keeps pointing it out so we can assume this resemblance is important.
2) Cloning is possible in canon
Now the second point is just here to point out that we know cloning to be possible. Funnily, Tyki’s resemblance to Nea gets pointed out just before the Alma Arc, which very much deals with the concept of reincarnation – only there we have the brains of deceased Exorcists transplanted into youthful bodies.
However, it’s not as if something like DNA hasn’t been mentioned before. Specifically, it has been called “Helix of life” by no other than maybe-former-Bookman but definitely First-Nea-host Past!Allen in chapter 221:
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So let’s assume that, in the aftermath of Nea’s “death”, PastA didn’t just wait around for Nea to wake again, but tried to find a vessel for him. Messing around with this helix, and whatever other dubious science and magic this world had to offer, and created a new body to host Nea. Except he failed, and the result is Tyki.
But if that is so, shouldn’t Tyki remember anything about that? Good question. Time for some more shady weird stuff about Tyki.
3) The Missing Years
In chapter 202, while the Earl is resting, Tyki talks to Road. I don’t speak Japanese, so I can’t verify which translation is more accurate, but I’ve found these two:
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Now the official German one also goes with a similar translation as the second one here, implying that Tyki has been with the Earl for ten years. In any case, the fact that this decade at all gets mentioned is quite odd because it doesn’t match up with what we know of Mana travelling with Allen. Cross calls Allen a “ten-year-old brat” (chapter 208) when he looks after him. So between Mana travelling with Allen and current canon, only 6 years have passed – what are up with the other 4 that are supposedly within this decade? We don’t have a definite age for how old Allen was when he met Mana, but I’d say around 7 or older. That’s still not enough to fill out the decade they speak about here.
Now, presuming that it does in fact refer to Tyki staying with the Earl for that time, we’re either left with assuming that the Earl acted as a separate entity as we see in 218, or that Tyki’s memories are just flat out wrong.
4) Tyki Mikk’s Canon-Typical Ignorance AKA The Baby of The Family
The more often Tyki appears, the more we see how much he actually doesn’t know about the going-ons of the war, or even himself. This goes back as far as the Ark Arc in chapter 130 with the Earl pointing out that:
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So this form is apparently something that all Noah of Pleasure can take on, a sort of second stage of awakening. Still, it feels significant that Tyki separates his life so much into “black” and “white”, “Noah” and “human”, going as far as suppressing a part of his Noah. It puts him in direct opposition to Skinn, who was more or less entirely consumed by his Noah memories. Though, perhaps this is also just a narrative ploy because a character with the ability to chose is, frankly speaking, fuck off overpowered and the only reason why Tyki isn’t constantly leveling battlefields is probably that he just doesn’t know how to apply himself.
Regardless, Tyki’s ignorance also becomes visible in chapter 187 again when he wonders about his Noah name:
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Nobody else reacts like he does, even though the other Noah haven’t been awake as long as he has and also should have retained the same memory damage as Joyd after Nea’s murder spree. Yet Tyki feels a little like the baby of the family, still learning and growing while everyone else is already in the know, which can’t be too far from the truth if we look at chapter 225:
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Wisely and Road definitely know that something went down and kept it from Tyki for so long for reasons. So besides Allen learning the truth sometime in the future, Tyki is also heading towards some kind of realization – and honestly, what better than the fact that the man who enjoys his freedom and roam so much, was artificially created?
Road could have manipulated his subconsciousness, his memories. It’s a miracle really that the Earl hadn’t had a breakdown around Tyki already given how much he looks like Nea. And if Tyki really awoke as a Noa a decade ago, then eh would have been right the age Nea was when he died. The Earl should have reacted in one way or another.
Other small details that don’t add up is a) the claim that Tyki and Sheril are actual brothers. They have different last names, which would imply that they are perhaps rather half siblings, sharing one parent, or maybe they just aren’t related at all in the first place. The other thing is that Nea recognizing Tyki’s face immediately after confronting Mana about his changed appearance just adds even more suspicion.
5) TLDR
Tyki is either a clone or something else messy went down because there’s no way that there’s a natural Nea and Mana copy running around who also just so happens to be a Noah. No way.
Thanks for coming to my  TED talk I’m never writing meta again this was a nightmare to post.
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theyarebothgunshot · 4 years ago
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jib 7 breakdown and analysis 
a little while ago i said that i am open to requests for making analysis posts when it comes to cockles panels and just cockles in general, and i got quite a few responses. the first person who asked me was my lovely tea anon, and the panel in question is jib 2016 aka jib 7. 
first of all i want to give you my take on the overall vibe, and then second of all i will get into the details and link to certain timestamps in the video. 
standard disclaimer: i am not gonna be linking to every single thing i talk about, but i will try my best to link to the moments that stand out to me the most. my recommendation would be to watch the panel in its entirety alongside my comments. i have read long posts about this panel before, so not everything in this post is gonna be original or said for the first time ever, simply because there is a good chance that information has stuck in my mind and has subconsciously formed my view of this panel. this is also in no way, shape or form gonna be coherent, unfortunately. i’m just gonna hope that the cockles hivemind will be able to make sense of this regardless. love and light. and lastly, this is all in good fun, so don’t come at me if you think this is too out there please and thank you.
the overall vibe that this panel gives me is that jensen and misha are a unity at this point. they are in sync with each other, and this whole panel is very relaxed and in good spirits. there is also the fact that their outfits match very well. and with jensen ross ackles involved, that cannot be a coincidence, so i love that a lot. 
another thing that i cannot ignore is that it’s also a very sexual panel, with a lot of double meanings and innuendos and remarks that can be read as sexual if you are as pervy as me. 
now let’s get into the specifics. 
although i am sure this is not going to be news for any of you, i feel like a little background knowledge is in order. before this panel, misha had had a panel that day with j*red. the mishalecki panel was really fucking funny and filled with sexual innuendos. 
between these two panels, it appears that there was a break in which they all had nothing to do (i am basing this off other people’s experiences and reports that i have read in the past, as i unfortunately wasn’t there myself).
considering how this panel goes, i think there is a good chance that jensen and misha just had sex beforehand. and based on both of their demeanors, one could draw certain conclusions about who did what (i honestly don’t like talking about who tops and who bottoms because who gives a shit and things are rarely that black and white, but all i’m gonna say is that even though jensen has joked about his asshole before, jensen and misha clearly said switch rights).
from the very first second. the VERY FIRST SECOND. jensen is sauntering on stage like he is thee man. then the crowd is cheering ‘one more time’, and jensen looks at misha, starts cheering too, and makes a movement that is bordering on obscene before waving it away. conclusion: ‘one more time’ could also mean ‘one more round of hot steaming sex’ and he still had sex on the brains, so that was what he was thinking about. 
ahhh, the intricate ritual [1m34s] of greeting each other on stage as if you haven’t spoken to each other all day, even though you probably just had sex….. jensen ackles, i wanna study you. i wonder what the deal is with that. does he just like to pay misha extra attention on stage? does he revel in the fact that he knows that fans like this sort of interaction? can he just not help himself? questions that keep me up at night. 
also, there is just SOMETHING about the way jensen says ‘i’m doing well how are you?’ it’s almost flustered? borderline shy? and then he goes on to say that he did an impression of misha earlier, in a manner that’s just so flirty. idk guys. it’s flirty. kindergarten flirty, but flirty nonetheless.
misha, of course, immediately turns his entire body towards him. almost as if they both already forgot there is an audience in front of them. then he just gets closer and closer to jensen, for no reason whatsoever except for the pure magnetic pull they have on each other. pray4misha.
i think it is a testament to how in sync they are that misha immediately realises that jensen mentioned bicycle touring during his ‘impression of misha’, and i love the moment where jensen puts on an accent (something that misha normally does) and goes ‘is like sport’ and misha laughs and goes ‘is very similar to sport’ and they both lose it. idk, i feel like that might be a sort of inside joke to them as well. 
this might be slightly reaching, but hear me out: right away, jensen goes: ‘oh by the way, sore?’ why would he say ‘by the way’? what is he thinking about when he says that? is it about ‘is very similar to sport’? because i could totally see them having sex and refering to it as ‘well that’s kind of like a sport’, as an inside joke. it works. i’m just saying!!! 
look. i know this back and forth has been discussed to death. we all know that the implication is that jensen fucked misha and misha is kind of stunned that jensen actually goes there. so stunned that he repeats it: ‘sore? am i sore?’ almost as if to stall a bit in his response. yikes. 
i think that it’s fair to say that this is something jensen enjoys doing: riling misha up on stage. because a lot of the time, misha has the upper hand on stage (probably also in the bedroom but that’s another conversation), but sometimes. sometimes jensen just can’t help but throw a lil oil onto the fire. (see also: underbear panel, throwing himself on stage to get straddled, etc). 
misha goes on to say that ‘after the panel with j*red’ he is quite sore. you can take that at face value, and think ‘oh so he is joking around that the panel with j*red made him sore haha’ or you can see a little bit of the truth shine through: literally after that panel, something happened that made him sore. it’s always easier to lie when you are bending the truth.
i actually can’t believe i never connected the dots before, but when misha deflects and says ‘oh you’re talking about the bike riding’ jensen is quick to say: ‘oh no i was talking about what just happened’ but instead of pointing at the stage (which is where the previous panel took place) he is gesturing to backstage. i mean…. way to feed into my ‘they just had sex backstage’ theory, jackles. thanks for that. 
i cannot get over the way jensen is looking at misha throughout this whole ordeal, but especially when he goes ‘you heard it here first, folks’ and misha walks up to him. THAT FACE. fuck him. he’s so gone. 
sidenote: i have never wished to be able to read lips as much as i have since i have stumbled upon these two morons, because i WISH i could see what misha is mouthing to jensen. i know there is some spec that he might have said ‘i am a little bit’ (aka he is a little bit sore) and i could see that, but i just want to know for sure. and even though i have seen people state that jensen would have already known about the panel with j*red, i think it’s possible misha hadn’t filled jensen in yet, seeing as they probably were doing something other than talking. 
let me take this moment to tell y’all about one of my jenmish theories, and that is: i think that jensen sometimes is overprotective of misha and that can come across as jealousy when it’s actually just worry. and i think this panel is a good example of that.
misha says [4m25s] that in italy they call come influence and jensen just. straight up looks at misha like ‘what the fuck did you do, what mess did you get yourself into this time?’ this is another reason why i believe he actually didn’t know about what happened during that panel yet: the reaction looks very authentic. you see his eyes shift from one side to the other and back again, as he is trying to process it. and honestly when you look at misha, his face goes through this journey of ‘this is funny’ to ‘shit is this maybe going a bit too far?’ and ending on ‘okay wrap it up wrap it up’. this is further solidified by the fact that jensen starts to mime digging a grave (aka ‘digging your own grave’).
misha tries to ‘change the subject’ by saying cas is the bottom in the implied relationship with sam and jensen immediately brings it back to sports. see what i meant when i said that they are tying sex and sports together? here jackles goes again, doing exactly that. for no reason whatsoever. (except to once again proof my point). 
WHY [5m50s] do they both burst out laughing at ‘tight end’ why why why i don’t wanna know but why why also quick reminder of ‘are you sore at all’ help i am just. EVERY DAY they are making me perceive things and connect dots and i do not like it. anyways i’m not saying that this is all very graphic stuff about their sex lives but i’m also not not saying it, you feel? jensen’s face says it all tbh. on a more wholesome note: i love the fact that they basically wanted to say ‘we should take questions’ at the same time. again: in sync. 
when the first person to ask a question said ‘this is a serious question’ misha goes to explain to jensen that that was a joke during his panel with j*red, another reason to believe that he hadn’t told jensen about the panel yet. jensen’s face there…. heart eyes motherfucker. 
i really don’t see enough people talk about the ‘safe word’ [6m38s] bit. jensen is the one to bring it up ‘so we should probably establish a safe word at this point. mine is keep going.’ misha laughs, and then realises what jensen has said, and (here comes my dom/sub truthing) teases jensen by saying ‘what is your safe word?’ to which jensen replies ‘keep going’ but LOOK at jensen’s face after he says that. he shakes his head with a little smirk and looks at misha with such a knowing look in his eyes that says ‘you fucker you know damn well what my safe word is’ and he actually does a double take and immediately rolls his eyes at himself after that. it’s all very quick but it’s far from subtle and i am here for it. 
i fucking love this next part because when the person says ‘a real story about the real jensen and the real misha’ they both are just like ‘yes okay’ but as soon as they say ‘that you have never told anyone before’ jensen just looks down and moves his head as if to say ‘what the hell am i supposed to come up with then’ lmao it’s really funny, and they end it with: ‘to know you a little bit better’ and guys (gn) i beg of you to look at the way they look at each other here. [7m24s] jensen is just like ‘help wtf should we say to this’ and misha just smiles down at him fondly like ‘sigh our fans really want us to talk about our relationship and as much as we would love to share stuff we just can’t’.
when misha says ‘we have to dust off some of those stories that we usually try not to tell other people’, something comes to mind: the ‘3 least ordered items on the menu’ story, that jensen shared a year after this at honcon. i honestly think that maybe they started to talk about what else they could share with the public, after this panel, because they get similar questions like this one all the time. either that or jensen just thought about what he felt comfortable sharing, without talking to misha about it, and decided to tell that story. 
i also absolutely love when they say ‘this is a serious question’ at the same time. AGAIN: IN SYNC!!!
‘i actually have a voice for you’ jensen can you please tell me why this sounds flirty and charming while you are actually about to make fun of your husband? i hate you (no i don’t) the fact that misha immediately knows what will happen, says a lot.
then jensen says: ‘dust off an old story for uhh..’ and burst out laughing. i swear to god i’d give my left pinkie to know what came to mind and what he whispered into misha’s ear. and i’m left handed. but i think we can all agree that whatever jensen said, it was something sexual, seeing as misha goes ‘nope’. those fuckers (affectionate).
something that i have mentioned in the past is that jensen always sort of ‘jokey’ goes ‘oh shit’ whenever misha says he’ll share something personal/private about them. i mean. jensen, it would be less sus if you didn’t respond. just giving you some pointers here, bro. because misha almost never shares something strange, it’s actually your reaction that makes me go ‘hmmmm.’ this time he even gets kind of elaborate breathing?? [10m27s]
oh to be a fly in clif’s car… honestly, the things clif must have heard and witnessed lmao. he clearly knows what is up between them (has made enough remarks about thinking that misha would be the bottom and that misha on his knees was nothing new for me to see that he absolutely knows.) 
this isn’t really important when it comes to cockles but they talk a bit about j*red’s internet dispute with at&t and jensen goes ‘oh they know’ gesturing to the audience. so clearly, jensen is well aware of the fact that fandom gets involved whenever something happens online with any one of them. just. thought that is an interesting fact. just in general. also love how i can tell that they both think j*reds crusades are bullshit (as they should). 
there is something really cute [14m13s] about the way misha goes ‘do you want your apple juice?’ and jensen goes ‘yeah!’ it sounds so domestic and mundane and i just. god i love them so much. 
i know we talk about jensen’s heart eyes a lot. but y’all. look [14m52s] at misha right here. he’s SO in love.
the thing that strikes me about jensen putting on ‘that voice’ for misha is that misha is honestly not bothered by it at all, but i think if the shoe was on the other foot, jensen would definitely be bothered. i don’t know what conclusion to draw from that but i just thought that is interesting. i always laugh at that bit, though, they seem to have so much fun.
i REALLY wanna know how jensen got from ‘will you dance for us?’ to ‘no but i’ll tell you what, misha and i will write a song for you real quickly.’ it’s such a fast transition that i am tempted to think that this was something he had been thinking about for a while now. he just wanted his mish to sing a song. and that warms my heart.
if you think i will ever get over how soft jensen is here… ‘you’re smart, you think on your feet, you make brilliant videos, put them on facebook, write amazing texts (*coughs* poems) and tweets and stuff, go ahead. spit out some lyrics, big guy.’ there is not one single thing about this that i do not adore. an ode to misha!!!! so casually!!! fuck. it might be true that if you want jensen to do something, you get misha to ask him, but it’s certainly also true the other way around.
the way jensen just. stares [19m02s] at misha, trying to get inspired by him, trying to feel out what cords to play. yeah. the way misha stands up but instinctively turns to jensen when he starts to sing. yeah. and then during the remainder of the song, he keeps on turning to jensen even though he faces the audience. and jensen loved it all. it’s so sweet. idk why but it just is. jensen just wanted his babe to thrive and get the love he deserves. 
aaaand in comes the dom shake [20m37s]. we love to see it. jensen just keeps on looking at mish. almost gets lost in it. touches his inner thigh (one of his habits, which he does a lot around misha or when talking about misha). 
i think it’s very interesting that jensen’s reaction [22m11s] to the question if he thinks dean will ever find a way to have a romantic relationship and to find himself in between normal and supernatural, is to immediately looks at misha. like? what was the reason? did he expect misha to answer a question that wasn’t about cas but about dean? did he think he should maybe answer it in a destiel-like manner? was he worried that the fan was hoping for a destiel-like answer and was he looking at misha to gauge what he thought was a smart way to respond? so many questions. 
i think it’s pretty interesting that jensen was very aware of the fact that people did not wanna see dean end up with a huntress lmao. he absolutely was aware of so many fandom things.
when jensen said that misha just crossed the line [23m40s], it’s another example of how jensen is ultra aware of what misha says and how it could get him into trouble and by the sounds of it, misha knows that as well but he just can’t always stop himself in time. from what we can see, he often realises just after he has already said something (when it is already too late).
listen. the fact that misha says ‘when harry met sally’ BEFORE the question was even finished, and jensen LAUGHS, like??? that panel was 5 years ago at that point. it clearly made a lot of impact on the both of them (jeez i wonder why, could it be because misha faked an orgasm and jensen got excited? hmm. who knows.) 
i think the dance portion is so fucking hilarious i’m wheeeezing. literally. they are just moving randomly AND YET THEY STILL SORT OF ARE IN SYNC? amazing.
you wanna know what i find really cute? the fact that jensen has such a soft spot for the resume off. part of me thinks it’s because they had a resume off in both 2012 and 2013. 
and jib 2012 took place during the famously rumored break up period. i wouldn’t be surprised if jib 2013 was that much more special to him because they finally got to make it right again. don’t look at me i’m getting emotional (on that note…… i might wanna write something about the break up period at some point. but idk. i mean. it’s a lot to delve into especially since i wasn’t in the fandom back then but. it compels me. we’ll see i guess.)
okay i know i keep saying this but they are SO in sync, as soon as they talk about photo ops and jensen goes ‘and to dab a little salt in the wound’ misha knows what he is gonna say, and they stand up together to demonstrate what happened. AND they both go ‘that’s not the punchline’ they are husbands. 
misha and jensen have both “twirled away laughing” in the EXACT same manner during this panel: misha when jensen starts to read the script, and jensen right here when misha says ‘what’s it like to be in a successful long running show’. they are mirrors. listen. listen. i know my mind is in the gutter a LOT of the time but like. uhm. there is this moment where they recall a woman saying in the photo op to ‘eat it’ (the string candy she gave to them) and misha says ‘and so we did’ and jensen looks at misha and it is SUCH an incriminating look i mean i don’t wanna be that person but 5 bucks he was thinking about eating misha out i am JUST SAYING. LITERALLY LOOK AT HIS FACE. [28m55s]
misha teases [7m02s] jensen by saying ‘what did you do? did you actually do it on purpose orrrr’ and i think it was to make jensen elaborate on it. which i think is a fucking good way to pull that off when it comes to jensen. cause jensen doesn’t like to brag, which misha knows, so by making that joke he is essentially trying to get jackles to tell the audience more about what he did, without him feeling like he is boasting about himself. and misha looks so pleased when jensen starts talking.
fuck i literally had to pause just now because. jensen says: ‘one of the characteristics of dean that i love to play is that he can bottle those fears up, stash them away, and just go. and uhm… sometimes i wish i could do that.’
this is actually making me a bit emotional because. he took his time saying this. it was a very deliberate move. he wasn’t sorry he said anything or regretted it. he wanted to get that out there. and i just. it makes so much sense if what we all think is actually true. he wishes he could just ignore all his fears and go for it. and it’s not hard to imagine what ‘it’ could be: coming out. whether that be just about his relationship with misha or being attracted to more than women in general, just in any way shape or form. it’s poignant. and misha turns away, but you can see him sigh a little bit. 
the whole bit about “apple juice” is just very cute and i enjoy it a lot. one thing i will say though is that i can kind of spot two tells of jensen: the way his face scrunches up when he is telling a lie that he thinks is clever, and the way he always leaves his chair to pour a drink when a question becomes difficult/hard/too funny to face head on. he has done both of those things time and time again, during panels with misha. just an observation. 
there is this little moment [10m13s] where misha tells the story about how he used to make apple cider with worms and dirt in it and in the end he goes ‘anyways. new england apple cider everyone. highly recommend.’ and jensen echoes that, ‘highly recommend. yeah.’ and of course that could just be a way to joke around and play along with misha but i’d like to think that he has visited misha and they had some apple cider together. just because i like the thought and i can, so. 
how CUTE is it that jensen remembers ‘i’ll just wait here then’, a line cas spoke 7 years prior to that panel, in a scene jensen wasn’t even in. i love it.
jensen slowly shaking his head when misha says ‘fuck’ and apologizing for it has SUCH major ‘excuse my husband’ energy. i love it.
‘i’ve got an idea’ [14m13s] ‘what? let’s do it’ misha imMEDIATELY regretted that lmaooo they are always so aware of double meanings and yet they cannot seem to help themselves. we love to see it. 
can you BELIEVE jensen ‘dance monkey dance’ ackles OFFERED to shamelessly promote a movie they have nothing to do with??? jensen, who hates the fact that they have to play some sort of show on stage, actually wanted to do that with misha??? i’m just- something something if you want jensen to do anything ask misha, but apparently also: if you want jensen to do something get misha involved and he’ll love it. 
and then he has the audacity to say ‘over to the wheel of love.’ i mean. i can’t.
(i don’t necessarily understand what is happening btw but that’s okay, because it leads to champagne. which is fun.)
okay so again apologies for my mind being in the gutter but jensen’s face [16m33s] when he says he is going to explain what [the champagne] tastes like……. hm. help. 
 honestly i just love the whole champagne bit because i love it whenever they get so playful on stage, and them “presenting” the bottle and going all ‘we know what we’re talking about’ ‘we’re kind of connaisseurs’ and the whole english accent bit. say it with me…. in sync. 
jensen popping a champagne bottle is something that can be so personal…. (i’m touch starved and going crazy, leave me alone)
i absolutely love the fact that jensen notices that misha is miming taking off his pants and misha immediately runs to him to explain and jensen just goes full on protective husband mode (YET AGAIN) ‘i turn my back for 2 minutes’ lmao it’s just such old married couple behavior. an old married couple that is horny and deranged, but still. 
i’ve seen the gifset of this moment [24m52s] many a times but i still think it’s so intimate. the way misha looks at jensen and walks backwards with him, for no fucking reason at all. sigh. misha’s hand clenches a little, and honestly i think he would have wanted to reach out to jensen in that moment. pat his arm or his back. and something happens a little while later that only proves my point even more…
that caress [60m5s] is probably one of the most intimate gestures i’ve seen between them. it’s so familiar. so natural. it says a lot.
and that’s the end of the panel. all in all i have to say that i enjoyed rewatching this panel with the analysis goggles on, because it’s really a very different experience and i picked up on a lot more than i did when i watched it just for fun. i think this is one of my favorite panels of theirs (at least until my next analysis lmao) because of the fact that they are so in sync with each other, which goes to show that their relationship was in such a good place (mind you i am only using past tense because i am describing a past panel, not because i think they’re not in a good place right now). this was a lot of fun folks, if you actually read all of this, god bles, you’re the best. see you next time!
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tennessoui · 4 years ago
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33 obikin 🙏
bless i can't write anything straightforward or normal to save my life
33. Celebrity/Fan AU (modern AU, singer Obi-Wan)(1.8k)
Obi-Wan had only wanted to cook, really.
He’d decided on Tuesday night that he would take Friday off as a sort of self-care day. He needed it. In the midst of a world tour, finally with a week to breathe back in his home city, he’d wanted to relax for a day. One day without music or an audience of any kind, just him in an apartment filled mostly with dusty counters and almost expired foods.
He loves his fans, because of course he loves his fans. He loves the fact that people relate to what he writes enough to listen to his albums, although he has gone through several different sounds over the course of his career. He loves that he can be 39 and still touring the world, even though he started his career as a 13-year-old-child-actor turned teen-pop-sensation turned serious musician turned perhaps-washed-up-serious-musician turned very-much-serious-musician-actually-this-time.
If not for his fans, he wouldn’t be able to afford this house on the outskirts of his town. He wouldn’t be able to boast his performances in three-fourths of the world’s major cities. He wouldn’t be able to continue to have a career. No. He loves his fans.
It’s just that sometimes he doesn’t. Sometimes he just wants peace and quiet, a moment to himself, where he can float away without concerning himself with the flow of the setlist, the timing of the encore, the lyrics and rhythms of songs he wrote a decade ago when he was practically a different person.
It’s just such a shame that Obi-Wan leaves the handle of the wooden spoon too close to the stove’s open flame when he stirs and adjusts the heat to low for an hour so he can go soak off his stress in the bath.
It’s just such a shame that the smoke alarms from the kitchen cannot be heard over the music he’s playing in the master bath.
Obi-Wan sinks beneath the water, enjoying the unyielding pressure. He doesn’t want to retire, he tells himself. He has so many more songs to write. Sure, he hasn’t written an actual good song in two years and people are starting to notice. Sure, the intense scrutiny is driving him up the wall and killing anything creative that he’s ever harbored in his soul. Sure, his muscles and bones ache and he had almost had a breakdown the other day when he first walked through the door of his home and couldn’t remember if there was a bathroom on the first floor, but.
But he doesn’t want to retire yet. He just has to admit he’s waning, even to himself. Whatever inspiration he had has been used up or otherwise escaped. All he has now to his name are songs that have already been sung.
He doesn’t know how long he spends in the bath, really. Long enough that the album changes twice. Long enough that his fingers prune up and his eyes grow lax. Long enough that he tells himself that no matter how soothing the lavender essence is, it would be very dangerous for him to fall asleep in the bath because the news articles alone would be enough to raise him from the dead only to strike him down again.
(Long enough for the wooden spoon’s handle next to the pot to catch on fire. Long enough for that fire to burn down to the oil on the spoon itself. Long enough for the dishtowel it was resting on to ignite as well.)
The smoke alarm clues in before Obi-Wan does.
Luckily, Obi-Wan had paid extra for a smoke alarm that, when registering a certain threshold of smoke, sends a notification to the closest fire department.
Luckily, this all happens while Obi-Wan is unaware, but before he becomes in peril.
He actually remains unaware of the whole thing right up until the moment a fully-suited firefighter kicks through the door of his bathroom.
That’s when he jerks up, very unceremoniously. “Fucking Chr--what?” he shouts, raising a hand to cover his exposed chest for reasons unknown.
“Obi--??” the masked firefighter starts to say, in something akin to shock, but like Obi-Wan is going to give ground here and now. He’s cornered the market on shock on this occasion, thanks much.
“What the--”
“Your house is on fire!” the man yells over him, looking around the bathroom wildly until he sees a fluffy off-white bathrobe hanging by a hook near the door. He throws it at Obi-Wan, who just catches it before it can get wet.
“My house is what?” Obi-Wan splutters, standing automatically to put on the piece of clothing. The helmet of the firefighter turns away to give him privacy. Despite himself, he finds it rather endearing. He ties the belt around his waist tightly, stepping out of the tub.
As soon as he’s out of the water, the other man swoops him up and over his shoulder. Obi-Wan lets out a scream which he’ll probably be absolutely mortified about later.
But now, what’s more distressing is the way his body is responding to the hold he’s been placed in. He’s thirty-nine years old. He’s definitely too old for this. He should definitely know better than to be even slight aroused by such a display of...strength and stalwartness and--
The man walks him out of the bathroom and the very first thing he notices is the heat that hits his skin. “Oh!” he whimpers and then yells wordlessly in absolute panic as he realizes what this heat must mean. His house is on fire. Actual fire. Actually on fire. There’s a fireman here. Because his house is on fire.
He’s only a little ashamed to admit that there’s a fair amount of thrashing that happens immediately upon this realization.
Enough so, in fact, that the firefighter transfers him from over his shoulder to cradled in his arms, so as to hold tightly against the movement of his limbs. “Stop--moving!” the man says irritably. Obi-Wan wants to tell him to work on his bedside manner, seeing as how his house is on fire, but he doesn’t have time before they descend the stairs and he can see the actual flames.
The stairs themselves are fine, which makes sense. Hot air rises. The dining room, parlor, and entryway look like they’re absolutely covered in fire though, so really his fireman was just in time to save him.
The smoke is acrid against the back of his throat, and Obi-Wan buries his face against the textured shoulder of his rescuer's uniform just so he doesn’t have to look or breathe the air, although he feels the smoke already working its way through his lungs. Well. That might just be his imagination.
They’re out of the house in a matter of seconds, and Obi-Wan’s eyes water immediately at the difference in air quality.
The man who’s been carrying him sets him down gently on the lip of the fire truck, far enough away from the house that he’s not in any danger--though most of the place is fine still--but close enough that someone can keep an eye on him. He doesn’t know why he hadn’t remembered to grab his phone. That phone was very important. Hopefully the other firefighters will be able to stop the fire before it reaches his bathroom.
His firefighter seems intent on hovering close to him, even as there's a fire raging in the background. Obi-Wan supposes that there's around five firefighters on his property, including the one in front of him. The other four should probably be able to handle it, whether or not the fifth decides to join in or stay hovering around Obi-Wan like he's a sickly orphan.
“Are you okay?” An earnest voice asks him from under the helmet.
Obi-Wan opens his mouth to say he’s fine, that at most he just feels like an idiot for being stranded outside in his bathrobe as a group of public service officials fight a fire he certainly, most likely, probably caused.
But he starts to cough instead, and his firefighter steps forward immediately, placing one hand on his back and the other on his chest, both beneath his robe. He hopes the man can't feel his shiver. That would be even more mortifying than his current situation.
“Do you even know what you’re doing?” Obi-Wan wheezes after the coughs have passed. The helmet the man is wearing only shows a quarter of his face, but he looks awfully boyish. “Aren’t you a little young to be a firefighter?”
“Deep breaths, please,” the man (boy?) tells him, which isn’t a proper response. “There’s an ambulance already on the way--it’s protocol, sir--but yes, I’m trained in emergency medical response.”
“A man of many talents,” Obi-Wan says dazedly, rubbing a hand against his chest where it aches as he watches a few men run around his house with a house. “And here all I can do is sing.”
“Hopefully you still can, sir,” his firefighter responds. “Only I’ve got tickets for your show in two days, and my little sister has been excited for weeks over this.”
Obi-Wan laughs despite himself. He’s sure it sounds at least a little bit hysterical. “Would you like me to dedicate a song for you? The man who saved my life?”
Even the helmet can't hide the nice shade of red his firefighter blushes at those words.
“What’s your name?” Obi-Wan asks, smoothing down his still-damp hair. It feels important to know his name. It feels just as important to look his best, given the circumstances.
The firefighter ducks his head and takes off his helmet. Obi-Wan wonders if the man should be going back to work, or if he’s been assigned victim duty. Either way, Obi-Wan isn’t going to complain, definitely not after his firefighter shakes out his hair and turns to face him with a sheepish grin stretching across a handsome face. “‘M Anakin,” he says. “It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Kenobi.”
Obi-Wan is awfully aware that he’s dressed only in his bathrobe in front of a very pretty firefighter who seems to know who he is--who seems to have tickets for his upcoming show. “Call me Obi-Wan,” he tells him, already trying to remember his manager’s phone number so that he can bump Anakin and his sister’s tickets up to the VIP section. It’s the least he can do, after all. Anakin had just saved his life.
“Wish it was under better circumstances,” Anakin says with a shy sort of twist of his mouth. Obi-Wan gets the impression that it isn’t just his little sister that’s been excited for his concert. An impression that is solidified quickly as Anakin tacks on, “I’m a huge fan of your work.”
Obi-Wan laughs incredulously at this, at the entire situation, at the man in front of him, at the fact that some part of his brain has started composing a song the second his firefighter had smiled at him in his bathrobe with his tired face and wet hair, kitchen burning his house down because he’d forgotten basic fire-safety rules in favor of his own self-care soak.
“Well,” he says, patting his firefighter’s knee, “I don’t have to tell you that I’m a huge fan of your work as well.”
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satoruvt · 4 years ago
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for now; forever
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pairing → kwon soonyoung x reader
word count → 9015
genre → mostly fluff, angst ↳ tags: ooh boy. firewatch au, banter, like a little bit (a lot) of pining, strangers to friends to… something, FLIRTING, reader’s kinda fucked up but its ok, hoshi’s weird and endearing (as always), a tiny bit of hurt/comfort, minghao best boy, soonyoung is very sweet it makes me want to cry
synopsis → after an unfortunate burnout that lands you in every critic’s negative and all-seeing eye, you decide to take a break from the one thing you know. you’re not sure if you’ll find what you’re looking for out in the middle of the woods - if you’re looking for anything at all - but at the very least, soonyoung will make the hunt a little less lonely.
warnings → there’s eventually a forest fire (starts on day 64 and is mentioned throughout the rest of the fic) that leads to an evacuation but it’s not super detailed, mentions and descriptions of creative burnout/breakdown
a/n → IT’S FINALLY HERE!!! i made a fancy banner nd everything <3 i know 9k isn’t a lot to some people but this is probably the longest one shot i’ve ever written LMAOO so i hope it’s paced ok and everything <33 PLEASE let me know what yall thought about this i am insanely proud of it. ok thats it hehe. hope you enjoy!!! see u on the other side!!!!
btw here’s a fun playlist of songs i listened to while writing mixed with some songs i think reflect the fic super well <33
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DAY ONE.
So. You’re… out here, now.
Save for the bugs you have to swat at every fifteen seconds, the outdoors doesn’t seem that bad. The weather isn’t too hot (yet, your mind reminds you) and there’s something about the color of the sky that makes your heart constrict in your chest. You can’t tell if it’s good or bad, but given your luck recently, you’re hoping it’s not a warning for the coming months - God knows you need a break. The weight of the journal in your bag feels heavier than any of the camping gear you brought with you.
You debate texting Minghao that you’ve made it to the park safely, but when you check your phone after deciding yes, you see the words no service instead of the familiar lines of a signal. It’s not that big of a deal - you’d told him when you left that you probably wouldn’t have service at all - but a little part of you feels the tender shake of anxiety at the thought of not being able to contact your best friend. 
He was the most worried out of everyone when you told him you were leaving for the summer. You can’t really blame him - it was abrupt, you saw the flyer at the grocery store and took it - but after what happened… doing something felt, feels, better than sitting around and waiting for nothing to happen. Waiting for a healing you aren’t sure will ever come, at least not completely.
“Is this really…” Minghao had started upon first entering your apartment after getting your text. Clothes were thrown all over your bedroom floor in an attempt to pack. “Do you need to do this?”
The tone of his voice told you he wasn’t going to try to stop you, that he just wanted to make sure this was what you needed. You had only nodded, sitting down on the edge of your bed to fold clothes and pack them into your suitcase.
“I just don’t want you to run away from it all,” Minghao said softly, sitting next to you. “You’ll need to face it eventually.”
“Is escaping really such a bad thing?” You asked, looking at Minghao. He gave you the look he did when you said something stupid, and if you weren’t still so wired from everything, you might have laughed. Instead, you sighed, placing a pair of pants into your suitcase. “I just need some time.”
Before you can face it, before you can come back, before you can write again… you still don’t know. Minghao had placed a kind hand on your shoulder to tell you there was no rush.
It’d taken no more than two days for you to get everything ready - including buying some apparently necessary survival equipment from Target. In a matter of a few hours you had gathered everything up, texted some other friends and your family that you might not be available the next few months and then… you left. 
(Your manager was pretty pissed off that you left so suddenly, but she was also pissed off at you when you told her you needed a break for at least a few weeks, so you’re not really offended.)
You take one last longing look at your car before locking it, pocketing the keys, and starting on your hike.
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The hike takes almost the whole day. 
You think you almost cry when you finally see the watch tower you’re supposed to be staying in, your legs barely able to hold the rest of your body up. The hike wasn’t hard, really - long, though, and for someone who usually spends a work day sitting at a desk, you’re surprised you’re still alive. You find the little lock that holds the keys to the tower at the bottom of the stairs, fastened onto the railing. It takes a few seconds for you to enter the code you’d been given earlier, relishing in the soft breeze the cools the sweat on your face and neck. The sun is just barely starting to set beyond the mountains, a beautiful sight that you can’t properly focus on because all you want to do is pass out. You’re pretty sure you almost do on your way up the stairs.
The cabin at the top of the tower is pretty scarcely furnished, save for a few basic necessities (a gas stove rests on one wall, a small desk opposite to it by the door, a mini-fridge, and a bed in the corner plus what looks like a map table in the center of the room). It’s a little weird, a feeling caught between the nostalgia of moving into a new place and something you can’t quite name, but you figure you have a few months to make it all a little more comfortable.
For now, though, you feel like you’re on the last leg of your energy. Your mind is saying eat, sleep, eat, sleep on repeat and you have to agree with it, so you change the sheets on the bed, take down the boards over the windows while you wait for the macaroni from the Kraft box to cook. You end up eating a few forkfuls of poorly-made mac and cheese before crashing.
When you wake up, it’s to gentle static and a semi-clear, unfamiliar voice. It takes you a minute to remember where you are and what you’re doing, too disoriented to even think about the voice, but then - oh. Forest. Watch tower. Escape. Okay.
“Yo, Cottonwood! Am I coming through okay? Pick up your radio!”
Right. The voice. Radio?
“Come on, I saw you get in yesterday, I know you’re there. Unless,” a gasp, “you died! Oh my God, this is like a horror movie… and I’m next!”
You manage to wake up enough to locate your radio (a walkie-talkie resting on a charger on the desk) and, after a few seconds of gentle struggle, work it. “Not dead,” you say, then clear your throat because your voice does not sound good right after waking up. “I mean… almost. But not dead.”
There’s barely a moment of hesitation before the person on the other end hoots, apparently excited. “Arisen from the dead! Brought back to life by none other than the legendary Hoshi!”
A brief thought crosses your mind about having to listen to this guy all summer, but you quickly shoo it away. You won’t have to deal with it for the whole three months, right? “Who… who is Hoshi?”
“Me!” The voice answers, sounding a little too smug. “But it’s really just an alias. You can call me Soonyoung. I’m at Twin Peaks tower, west of yours!”
You spin around your cabin, looking through the windows cluelessly - how long have you been asleep, it’s practically afternoon - until you see a very small silhouette of another tower in the distance. You nod, then realize Soonyoung can’t see you. “Oh. Cool.”
“Aren’t you gonna tell me your name?” Soonyoung asks, but his tone is light, breezy. You blink, reciting your name to him in a daze. “Pretty! So, what brings you out here?”
You weren’t expecting that question. “What?”
Soonyoung giggles into the radio. “Everyone comes out here for some reason. Like… Jihoon says it’s ‘cause it helps him write music. And Joshua loves the outdoors, so… what’s your reason?”
“You…” you start, not exactly wanting to tell a stranger the reason you ran away from everything you know. “Do you normally ask this many questions?”
“Yeah!”
You feel yourself sigh, already tired again.
“I… just wanted to get away for a while,” you end up saying. A half-truth. “I live in the city.”
“No way,” Soonyoung gasps excitedly. “Me too! I wonder if both of us have ever been walking and, like, passed each other without knowing…”
This isn’t exactly what you had in mind when you thought of escaping.
DAY TWO.
The next morning, you dedicate time to getting a little more settled into your home for the next few months. You didn’t bring a lot of decor - you didn’t think you needed any - but even seeing your blanket on the bed and a few books you need to catch up on reading stacked on the desk makes the place feel a little bit more like you. You eventually reach the journal you packed (that Minghao made you pack) and stare at it like it might do something. Like it might tell you to write again, or like it might tell you to leave everything behind. You don’t really know what you want from it.
A sing-songed version of your name comes from your radio and you blink away from the journal, set it down on the desk. “Good morning!” Soonyoung says from the other end, and you feel yourself take a deep breath as you pick up your radio and press down the button so he can hear you.
“Morning, Soonyoung,” you respond, calm compared to his excitement. 
“So… what are your plans for today?”
“Um,” you pause, brows furrowed, looking towards the direction of his tower even though you know he can’t see you. “Looking out for fires?”
“That’s boring,” is Soonyoung’s immediate response, and you laugh a little.
“Kinda my job for a while.”
And listen, you’ve known Soonyoung for less than a full 24 hours, but even before your brain really comprehends what he’s saying you know you’re not going to like it. “Wait, that reminds me,” he says, tone of his voice a little less overexcited puppy. “What did you do before this? Or, like, what’s your career? I mean, you don’t have to answer, I just thought it could be a way for us to get to know each other…”
His voice fades away for the split second you remember a little too much all at once, but somehow your voice still sounds put together when you speak. “Nothing special,” you say. There’s a pause when you don’t elaborate any further, but instead of asking about it, Soonyoung changes the subject.
“Okay!” he says, back to a more playful tone. “Anyways, I asked about your plans ‘cause I kind of need you to do something for me.”
“Already asking favors?” you tease. “We just met, Soonyoung.”
You hear him laugh, loud and hearty, and it’s contagious even through a radio line so you feel your own smile pull at your lips. “One of the other lookouts found some teenagers with fireworks,” he informs you. “I need you to meet him and get the fireworks from him.”
Your feet are already in your shoes, one halfway tied. “You can’t do this?”
Soonyoung’s voice is strangely thoughtful, but you catch a hint of mischief at the end of his sentence. “I would, but Jihoonie said he’d eat me if I tried to see him again and I think he’s serious this time.”
He tells you where the other lookout - Jihoon - should be and gives you a quick lesson on how to properly use your map to get there. You’re not really excited for another hike this early on (you’re still sore from even getting up here) but by the time you meet the halfway mark you’re convinced it’s not that bad. It’s neither long nor challenging, and… well, Soonyoung’s insistent on keeping you company the whole time. 
When you see what looks like a guy at the edge of a now-abandoned camp, you tell Soonyoung you’ll radio him when you’re on your way back to your tower. “Hey,” you call out as you get closer. The man looks up at you, his eyes sharp but not unkind. “Jihoon?”
“Yeah,” he replies. Under his cap you notice that his hair is a gentle silver, almost purple. He’s dressed casually, like you, and you suppose it’s a given since there’s no exact dress code for this job.  “You’re the newbie?”
You didn’t know people knew about you. “I.. I guess,” you say, then tell him your name.
“Cool,” Jihoon says, voice flat like he’s distracted. He picks up the bag next to his feet and hands it to you. “Take these. Thanks.”
He starts to walk away, down a trail opposite the direction you came, but you think of earlier, when Soonyoung asked about your job (or when he didn’t). You call after Jihoon, hesitate, but then opt to make this quick since he looks like he’d rather be anywhere but here. “Have you and Soonyoung… known each other for long?”
Jihoon turns around. He shrugs, then nods. “We met in college, a few years ago.”
“What kind of person is he?”
You watch in vague amusement as Jihoon’s nose scrunches up, but the small smile on his face refuses to hide and it makes you giggle. “Really annyoing,” he tells you, then pauses for a second like he’s looking for the right words, “kind of overwhelming sometimes. But he’s good. He’s someone you want around.”
Someone you want around, your brain repeats to you. You nod with a friendly smile as you haphazardly stuff the fireworks in your hiking bag. “Okay. Thank you.”
Jihoon offers an acknowledging nod of his own before continuing on his way back to his tower. You’re about five minutes into your hike back to yours when your radio sounds from your pocket with a now-familiar voice.
“Are you on your way back?” Soonyoung asks. “You forgot to tell me!”
“Sorry, yeah, I am now. I was talkin’ to Jihoon for a second.”
“Really? That’s weird. He rarely talks to anyone, especially strangers. What’d you talk about?”
You can’t help the small smile that lands on your face as you speak. “Stuff to blackmail you with.”
You think you hear Soonyoung’s groan all the way from his tower, and your smile only grows when it turns into a laugh.
DAY FIVE.
The clouds look dark today.
They haven’t covered the sun completely yet, but they’re closing in fast. You hope that it rains, already sick and tired of the disgusting heat, but also. Something else.
Rainy days always used to be the best to write, your brain supplies to you. You brave a glance at the still-unopened journal on the desk, thinking that maybe…
Your radio turning on drags you away from the crack in metaphorical door, coming at the perfect time as if to tell you that you’re not ready yet. You listen to it, grab the radio, murmur a greeting to Soonyoung.
“It’s getting pretty dark out, huh?” He says. He must be looking at the sky, too.
“Yeah,” you hum. “Hopefully the storm isn’t too bad.”
The line goes quiet, but you know that Soonyoung’s still there even if he isn’t saying anything. The knowledge comforts you, just a little.
“Well... got any rainy day stories?”
DAY SEVENTEEN.
“So, Soonyoung,” you call into your radio as you step outside. You’ve taken advantage of the small balcony around the entire cabin, setting up a few chairs you found in the storage unit at the bottom of the tower (just in case someone stops by, you tell yourself) and a small table you weren’t using inside. The nights are hot but still relaxing, and you find yourself sitting outside often, catching up on reading or taking in the stars. 
“I can’t believe you radioed me first,” Soonyoung responds, and you hear the smugness in his voice. “I’m so happy!”
Soonyoung somehow almost always manages to be with you in the nights, too, even if not physically. Being away from the urban civilization you’re used to has been a little difficult to adjust to, but you feel significantly less alone whenever you hear him calling you. You tell him to be quiet even though both of you are laughing. The distant crickets make your chest warm.
“What do you do? You didn’t tell me before,” You ask him after a second. There’s a small wave of anxiety that rushes over you at the idea that he might call you out about when he asked you the same thing. That was two weeks ago, though, you think, and Soonyoung wouldn’t. You’re sure he’s been able to tell that it’s a touchy subject. You’re not as discreet as you think you are, even if (and you’ve learned this the past few weeks) Soonyoung’s a bit more on the oblivious side sometimes.
“I dance!” 
Somehow, despite having not even seen what he looks like, it’s fitting. “Like… teach, or choreograph, or…”
“A little of everything,” Soonyoung tells you, and then starts elaborating. His voice echoes through your radio and you look up at the stars as you listen to him, trying to map out constellations from memory. He sounds so excited to simply talk about it, you can’t imagine what he must look like when he’s actually on stage. You hope you get to see it one day.
“You’ll have to teach me something sometime,” you say once he’s finished, voicing your thoughts. With a giggle that sounds like the stars above you, he tells you he’d love to.
A moment of quiet passes, spent focusing on the tiny specks of fireflies you see in the field around your tower and feeling the summer breeze as it passes. The words slip out of your mouth with much less resistance than you thought they would.
“I used to write,” you murmur into your radio. It takes you a moment to register the heavy beat of your heart, like you just got back from a run.
“Used to?” Soonyoung asks, curious but soft.
“For now,” you answer. The ache you’ve become familiar with throbs in your chest. “Hopefully not forever.”
It’s not the whole story - not even close - but you figure you might be able to tell him with time. The thought stresses you out even when you have nothing to stress about, and you think Soonyoung is psychic because he says, next, “the stars are really pretty tonight.”
You’re not looking at the sky when you answer. Your head is tilted in the direction of his tower. 
“They really are,” you say.
DAY THIRTY-THREE.
You’ve fallen into a bit of a routine with Soonyoung. 
Not a day goes by where you don’t talk to him - the one day you radioed and he didn’t pick up you genuinely thought something happened to him, seconds away from calling a park ranger. Right before you actually did it, though, he picked up his radio and said he had been taking a nap.
(His voice was a little groggy from sleep, sounded like he was pouting whether he meant to or not and you’d be lying if you said the thought didn’t make your heart skip a few beats - but if anyone asked, you’d definitely lie about it.)
One of you calls the other around the same time every morning and you don’t put down your radio until the sun is well behind the mountains. You’ve grown used to his presence, in a way, even if you can’t really feel him with you (though sometimes you swear you can). It’s comforting to have him out there with you, and it’s been so long since you’ve talked to someone the way you do with Soonyoung… you find yourself looking forward to every morning, waiting for when you hear him over your radio.
Today is no different.
Well, in an unrelated way, it is - you have to hike to a supply box to get your surplus of food for the next month and a half you have left. But even as you’re doing inventory of what you have left in your cabin on a piece of paper, you’re waiting for Soonyoung’s usual good morning. It comes as always, makes you smile when you hear it.
“Good morning!” 
You leave your scratch paper on your desk and reach for your radio. “Morning,” you say after you’ve pressed the button down. 
“So…” Soonyoung trails off. “Supply drop day.”
“Yeah,” you reply, sitting on your bed.
“Both of us are getting crates of food today…”
What is he getting at? “Uh-huh…?”
“Both of us… getting supplies… from the same place.”
A confused laugh leaves your lips. “Soonyoung, what is your point?”
Even for as often as you talk to him, you’re still always surprised when he starts yelling. “Let’s meet up!” he exclaims, obviously excited, and it clicks in your head.
“Oh my God, can we do that?” 
“Yeah!” Soonyoung sounds like he’s grinning, smile palpable in his voice. “If we pull some strings with the other lookouts and get hiking at the right time, it’s totally possible.”
Holy shit. Your heart is beating wildly, butterflies swarming around it at the thought of meeting Soonyoung in person. “Okay,” you tell him, noting that you sound a little breathless. “Okay, yeah, let’s do it.”
It takes a few minutes to work everything out - the supply boxes should be dropped off by midday, so you can leave your tower around then and get to the drop location in a little over an hour. Soonyoung has to leave earlier than you since he’s farther away, but if everything goes well the two of you should get to the drop location close to the same time, margin of error small. You radio Jihoon to cover for you while you’re out, and he agrees, although he sounds a bit miffed.
When you finally leave for your hike, you’re not expecting how quiet it is. Soonyoung’s usually there to cover it up with his voice - you don’t hike often (you’ve not had to, given your job for the summer is to watch for fires) but whenever you have he’s been there to keep you company. You plug in your earphones about halfway through your trip just to drown out the quiet, something more to listen to than just trees and the sound of your own footsteps.
Eventually you make it to the supply box, and, well. There’s a guy. Standing in front of a long, green box - you think you see lookout tower names engraved ever few inches: Thorofare, Cottonwood, Twin Peaks. Packing some ready-to-eat meals into his backpack.
Holy shit, Soonyoung? your brain automatically asks, and it sends your heart spiraling up and down. You’re not sure what you thought he looked like, but it wasn’t this. Tall, lean - wait, you don’t even know if this is actually him yet.
Before you can think too much about it, you call out, voice tentative. “Are you… Soonyoung?”
The man turns around, shakes his head with a kind smile. “No,” he says. “I’m Joshua.”
You think about throwing yourself into the river by your tower when you get back for absolutely no reason. Somehow you manage a polite smile and a gentle sorry.
“No, don’t apologize, you’re fine!” Joshua chirps, adjusting the cap on his head. “You’re looking for him?”
You pause. Those aren’t the exact words you would use, but they’re not technically wrong, so you nod. After all, you don’t know what he looks like (you probably should have asked him before both of you left, but you weren’t expecting another person to be here).
“Please don’t tell me he got lost again,” Joshua says, suddenly looking tired, and you look back at him wide-eyed because... again? Has this happened before?
“No,” you tell him. “No, I mean, I don’t think so. I don’t know. Since we both have to pick up supplies he thought it’d be cool if we met up in person.”
Joshua sighs, seemingly relieved, then continues packing what’s left of his supplies into his backpack as he hums. “That’s weird.”
“What is?”
He shrugs. “Soonyoung likes the outdoors, yeah, but the supply box is a pretty far hike from his tower. I think the last few summers he’s had them delivered.”
Oh, you think, and maybe say out loud, because then Joshua’s looking back at you, a mischievous smile on his face. 
“He must really like you to come all the way out here,” he tells you, and you laugh like it might get rid of all the thoughts popping up in your mind that you keep telling yourself to stop thinking about.
“And yet,” you say wistfully, looking towards the horizon. “I still come second to Jihoon.”
This time Joshua laughs, a friendly sound, and the two of you fall into a playful conversation. He’s somewhat a superior of yours, though not by a far gap - as the lookout who’s been on the job the longest, he oversees the rest of you (which is you, Soonyoung, Jihoon, and a few others you have yet to come across). You get along with him easily and it’s weird to think that if you hadn’t gone through what you did a few months ago you wouldn’t be here talking to him, establishing what could be a new friendship. You wonder if that’s a new step towards healing, finding a way to be grateful even if it was horrible.
You talk to Joshua for a while until he says he should get back to his tower. You nod, tell him goodbye (and thanks for his company) and he starts to walk away -
“Shua!”
A burst of platinum blonde hair rushes past you from the opposite direction you came from, heading for Joshua. The new guy drops a bag at his feet and almost softly crashes into Joshua, who has this look on his face you can’t really decipher.
“Hey, Soonyoung,” he says, and you blink.
Soonyoung, like… your Soonyoung? The Soonyoung you’ve been talking to for weeks?
You watch as the two hug, Soonyoung excited to see Joshua and completely ignoring you (though you’re not sure he’s doing it intentionally). All you can do is stand there. This is him, your brain keeps telling you. This is the guy.
“I haven’t seen you in forever!” Soonyoung exclaims, bouncing on the balls of his feet excitedly. “How are you? How have things been?”
Joshua shrugs, a small smile on his face as he puts a gentle hand on Soonyoung’s head and starts… petting. “I’ve been good, same old deal. I know that you’ve been doing good too, though, as far as I’ve seen from your reports.”
Soonyoung beams at the praise and you take note of it in the back of your mind (you also note the way Joshua’s treating him like a toddler and how it’s working). He opens his mouth to say something else but looks around and meets your eyes - for a second there’s nothing at all, but then you think you see an exclamation mark actually pop above his head.
The yell of your name is so loud it makes you jump. “Oh my God,” Soonyoung whines, falling to his knees dramatically. “I can’t believe I didn’t recognize you!”
“This is the first time you’ve seen me,” you say. You can’t seem to hold back your smile.
Joshua excuses himself (again) and finally moves on his way, says he’s in Thorofare lookout if anything happens. The sun is mellow on your skin as you look at Soonyoung, take him in - light hair, warm eyes, tan skin. His smile matches your own. A breeze shifts by, slow and sweet.
“Hi,” you say.
Soonyoung grins.
“Hey.”
-
So the bag you saw Soonyoung drop on the ground before was, in fact, for a picnic.
He didn’t bring a lot of food (the whole point of the hike was to get supply boxes anyways) aside from a few candy bars he’d saved for today. He did bring a blanket, however, and the two of you set everything up on the edge of a rock not too far away from the drop location, under some trees. It looks over a small ravine, a stream cutting through at the bottom. 
The time goes by like it was never there in the first place, spent talking and laughing. Soonyoung is just as animated in person as you thought he’d be, telling stories wildly as the two of you snack away a portion of your supplies. You know the two of you don’t have much time together, given how late it already was when Soonyoung arrived and both of your hikes back to your respective towers, but it’s still… refreshing, almost, to be with him like this, to finally get a piece of him you didn’t before. To hear him without the crackle of the radio and to see him.
To see him.
Something stirs in your chest when you look at him lying back on the blanket, arms supporting his head with his eyes closed. The sun lights up his skin in a golden glow, like honey, and the dark roots growing into his blonde hair are somehow endearing. The breath leaves your lungs when you finally label him as pretty. You hope you can blame the heat in your cheeks on the sun.
“I wish we could stay like this forever,” Soonyoung sighs, still not opening his eyes. You almost reach out to brush the hair away from his face, but a breeze comes by and does it for you. You hope it’s not a sign.
“It would be nice, huh,” you murmur in response. You finally break your gaze from Soonyoung and lean back on your hands, soaking up the feeling of the blue sky.
It’s now that you remember what Joshua had said earlier about Soonyoung usually getting his supplies delivered, and you turn back to him. “Hey, before you got to the supply box, Joshua and I were talking.” Soonyoung hums in acknowledgement. “Is the hike from your tower to here really that bad?”
His voice strains as he stretches, opening his eyes to look at you. “I mean, yeah, it’s a bitch of a hike to take sometimes. But it’s not really hard except for a few spots, just long.”
You furrow your brows. When you agreed to meet him, you didn’t think it’d be this much trouble for him. “And you came all this way so we could… what, sit here and eat? Like we do most of the time anyways? Just separately?”
Soonyoung pouts at you and you feel personally attacked. “Food tastes good when you’re with other people.”
You give him a soft, semi-playful glare, and Soonyoung offers a small giggle. You turn back towards the view in front of you.
“Did you not want me to come down?” He asks, and he doesn’t sound… sad, really, more observant. Like he wants to know where you’re at.
“No,” you answer almost immediately (Jesus, your brain says). “I just… it’s a long trip. It doesn’t really seem like it’s worth the effort.”
Like I’m worth the effort, you think to yourself. 
You hear Soonyoung shuffle behind you and turn around to look at him again, finding him sitting up straight. “It is to me,” he tells you, and there’s something in his eyes that holds you in your spot. The tips of his fingers brush against yours on the blanket. You’d look down if you didn’t think you’d miss something. “I wanted to.”
In a second, it clicks.
-
It’s not much longer until Soonyoung needs to start heading back. The two of you get your things together, and you help him pack up the picnic supplies he brought. When everything’s said and done and the two of you are back by the supply box, there’s a second of uncharacteristic quiet that falls over you.
“Let me know when you get back,” you say after a moment. Soonyoung grins.
“You’re worried about me!” he swoons, and you hit him on the shoulder playfully, but don’t deny it. It can be dangerous out there, and even if Soonyoung has been out here longer than you, anything can happen. 
“Just radio me, okay?”
Soonyoung smiles, something a little softer from before. He nods. “I will. You be safe too.”
You nod in return, taking a few steps back towards the trail that leads back to your tower. “Talk to you later, Hoshi.”
The last you see of him before you turn around is the grin on his face.
DAY THIRTY-FOUR.
It feels like forever since you’ve been here.
A window is open and welcomes a distant ambiance of the forest around you, trees and birds and animals. The journal you brought with you is open to the first page, but remains untouched - nothing on the pages. At least, not yet.
(The not yet you always tell yourself seems closer, this time, not so far away. Within reach, or at least within reason.)
Soonyoung had called in that the hike from yesterday had worn him out and he needed a nap. You had laughed fondly at how tired he sounded, told him to sleep well and that you’d be waiting for him. And you feel the words, right at your fingertips, the way the rest and wait to be written. Their presence is both terrifying and reassuring. 
You don’t think they’ll be able to bleed out correctly, not the way they used to since it’s been so long. But they’re there, in your mind, in your heart. 
You pick up the pen you got out, feel the weight of it as you click it a few times. You tap it on the desk once, twice, and then.
You take a deep breath and start to write.
DAY SIXTY-FOUR.
“Are you lookin’ at the fire?”
Your eyes leave the page of your book at Soonyoung’s voice crackling from the radio, looking around your cabin windows to see that, oh, there is a fire. You’d kind of forgotten that it’s… literally your job. At least there are multiple lookouts.
You fold the corner of the page you’re on as a makeshift bookmark before closing the book and setting it down on your bed as you stand to get your radio. You grab a can of soda from the mini-fridge you’ve started to utilize (as best you can, given it does a mediocre job at keeping things cool) before walking out onto the deck, sitting in one of the chairs you set up. “Now I am,” you tell Soonyoung as you adjust the chair so it faces the direction of the fire. You think you’re the closest lookout to it - which makes the fact that you didn’t notice it even worse - but not in any danger. The smoke paints the evening sky red-orange, washing over the purples and blues the sun used earlier as it set. “You’ve called it in?”
“Yeah, told Josh, who told the higher-ups,” Soonyoung responds, voice strangely… solemn? He sighs his next words. “They’ll probably send a crew in for suppression by morning.”
“Is there a reason you sound sad about putting a potentially dangerous forest fire out?” You tease, cracking open your soda and taking a sip. The carbonation feels good in your mouth, pops on your tongue.
“I’m not!” Soonyoung denies after some sputtering, and you laugh. “Just… ugh, looking at it - I’ve worked here every summer for the past, like, five years, and I’ve only ever seen two fires. Three, counting this one.” His voice gains a certain softness, like he’s lost in thought. “I don’t want the place to burn down or anything, but… don’t you think it’s kind of beautiful?”
It’s a little morally ambiguous, but as you look at the distant, licking flames you have to agree. In the dark, it’s vibrant, more than just ashy smoke and the smell of burning - it glows red, flushes out silhouettes of the trees in between it and you.
“I guess it is,” you hum into your radio as you stare at it.
“So. What should we name it?”
“The fire?”
“Yes,” Soonyoung says, dramatic as always. “She needs a name! I’ve always given them names, but I’ll let you do the honor this time.”
There’s something sweet in the way he offers you the chance to name it, and you try not to dwell on it too much. “Ah,” you start, thinking for a moment. “Barbara. The Barbara Fire.”
Soonyoung howls out a laugh and it’s infectious; you feel the tugging of your lips into a grin. “That is the worst thing that has ever come out of your mouth,” he says, and you roll your eyes. “We are not naming it the Barbara Fire.”
You huff out a fake whine. “Come on, it’s just Barb! She’s beautiful.”
“But deadly,” Soonyoung adds in a voice that sounds like it came straight out of a crime documentary. It makes you giggle, the two of you throwing around silly, stupid names.
“Okay, okay,” you say after a few minutes. “Then… hmm, the Hoshi Fire.”
There’s a long, long pause, and you hold down the button to your radio again. “Uh oh, is he broken?”
Soonyoung’s voice comes through, joking, but you sense a pinch of sincerity. “You want to name a raging forest fire after me… I feel like I shouldn’t be happy but I kind of am.”
You remember to push the button as you laugh, looking directly at the fire and shouting, “I hereby dub thee… the Hoshi Fire!” as loud as you can.
After the laughter dies down, for a second, there’s quiet - not awkward or for the sake of a bit, just quiet. Soonyoung’s not telling a story, you’re not giving witty comebacks. It’s just the two of you and the fire, alone in the forest.
It breaks eventually. Soft, gentle. “I’m glad you’re out here, you know,” Soonyoung says.
His words make you stiffen and relax all at once, and almost on instinct you look in the direction of his tower. You can’t really see the silhouette - the sun too far gone, taking the last of its light with it - but you know it’s there, can pinpoint exactly where it should be. You hope Soonyoung’s looking over at you, too.
And even if the reason you’re here in the first place is still a tender bruise to be pressed, you find yourself recovering a little more every day. “I am, too,” you respond. “I… I wish you were over here.”
It’s a roundabout way to say I miss you, but a part of you thinks neither of you are ready for something that explicit. You reach a hand out in the direction of Soonyoung’s tower, grasping at it like it might bring him to you. It’s not as if you can’t meet up with him again, but… between the distance and the fact that there’s an actual fire to keep your eye on, it certainly wouldn’t be easy. This is the closest you can get for now.
“I wish I was too,” Soonyoung says. You close your eyes to picture him, pretty smile and fond eyes. “We could hang out, like last time.”
“Without the radios,” you add. 
“We could, um… you know.”
His words make you giggle, and you feel a little lucky that you’re not holding down the button. Your heart is pounding in your chest, nervous but stable, secure, as you reply. A welcomed beat, even if startling.
“No, I don’t,” you tell him. Your soda sits forgotten, half-empty, on the floor of the deck by your feet. You don’t bother paying attention to the fire. “What could we do?”
Soonyoung groans and this time you laugh pushing the button so he can hear you, warm and affectionate. “Don’t tease me! You know what I’m talking about.”
You do. “What could we do, Soonyoung?”
There’s a pause, but you know he’s still there.
“Well,” he says eventually. “Let me tell you.”
DAY SEVENTY-SIX.
The fire’s gotten big.
You feel like you shouldn’t be surprised by it - it’s a wildfire, they’re not exactly easy to contain, but seeing it up close like this is vastly different from being in a city and barely even noticing the smoke. It is larger than life out here, consuming more and more of the forest each day. The last few days you’ve spent inside due to the low visibility (though it’s not as if you take a hike every day anyways). It makes you wonder if it’s safe to stay out here.
“...Hey,”  Soonyoung radios in. “I have a question for you.”
Rationally, you know whatever it is, it can’t be that serious. But your heart picks up pace anyways, beats a little harder as you pick up your radio to respond. “Look, it was Jihoon’s idea to use the fireworks, I promise neither of us knew it would start the fire.”
Soonyoung sputters out a laugh and you match him, feeling yourself calm down. “I’ll… I’ll ask Jihoon about that later, but - I really do have something to ask you.”
You lay down in your bed, unmade and messy. “Is it… bad?”
“I don’t think so,” Soonyoung responds. “Maybe?”
“Okay…” you say, timid. “Shoot.”
“When you first got here, I asked why you took the job,” he says, and you nod to yourself, remembering the first call you got from him. “You just… never really responded. I get it if it’s, like, a touchy subject, I don’t want to pressure you at all…”
“No,” you interrupt before you realize what you’re saying. You take a deep breath, Soonyoung waits. “No, it’s probably… it might be good to talk about it. I’ll tell you.”
He murmurs an okay, tells you to take your time and you do. It’s not like you’re scared to tell him - you’ve come to trust him, you know he won’t judge you for anything that happened or think any differently of you. You’re not even sure that’s why it’s hard for you to talk about - rather than any sort of outside force that might affect you, it’s more… more of a part of you that you felt you lost. It’s more coming to terms - even after these months - and going through the motions. It’s scary to talk about disconnection, especially from the one thing you loved (love?) more than anything.
“I… write,” is how you start, looking at the ceiling of your cabin as you speak. “Or wrote, maybe? I’m an author. I have a few books published. Writing is something I’ve loved since I was so young, it’s… a part of me, really. It’s special to me.
“When I finally got a manager and a publishing company and all that official stuff, I was so excited. It was like I was finally living my dream. I wrote my first book and got it published and it did really well, so my management asked me to do another, and I did. Then they asked for one after that, and I didn’t… it felt too soon, in a way. Rushed. But I guess I did it because I had to, because I figured this just came with being a writer and not everything is what you want it to be - and I didn’t want to risk losing what I had wanted almost my entire life.”
You take a moment to steady yourself, note the tremble of your fingers and take a few deep breaths. Soonyoung waits for you, patient and kind. “It went like that for a while, and I lost touch with writing. I stopped loving the only thing I knew how to love. I was so detached from it. A few months before I took this job my manager set up a press conference for me, and I… kind of… had a breakdown. At the conference. So I’m out here to run away for a second. Be away from it all.”
The quiet that follows doesn’t make you nervous, really, but you’re still waiting for a reply of any sort. Even if it’s the common oh or it’ll be okay that you got from distant friends and relatives who didn’t know what was really going on. But Soonyoung was patient with you, so you can be patient with him.
“Have you written since?” He asks after a minute, and your eyes flash over to the journal on your desk. One page has the familiar strokes and loops of your handwriting, written after you met Soonyoung in person.
“Only once,” you respond, truthful.
“When you start to write again… will you show me?”
And for some reason the question is so tender, filled to the brim with something you want to name. It makes tears spring to your eyes as you look out over the rising fire, trying not to let your voice shake too much as you reply.
(Maybe it’s because he said when and not if, maybe it’s because he didn’t tell you it’ll be okay, maybe it’s because it’s him and not someone else telling you the same thing.)
“Yeah,” you say, letting go of the button to sniff. “Yeah, I will. If you let me see one of your dances.”
You hear Soonyoung’s smile through the radio as he tells you it’s a deal.
DAY SEVENTY-EIGHT.
For the first time since you started working, someone who isn’t Soonyoung calls you through the radio (not counting the time you radioed Jihoon to make sure he was still alive, because you only saw him once and hadn’t heard from him since then). You hear the familiar click that tells you someone’s on the station, and you’re fully expecting Soonyoung’s voice to light up your cabin the way it always does. Instead, Joshua’s voice rings through.
“You there?” He asks after a comfortable call of your name, and you pick up your radio.
“Yeah, I’m here. It’s been a while,” you respond, and Joshua hums. “How’ve you been?”
“I’ve… been,” he tells you, which earns a small laugh. “Anyways, I called in to let you know that they’re having trouble controlling the fire -”
You take a look at the giant flume of smoke north of your tower, nodding to yourself. “I can see that.”
Joshua tells you to be quiet. You hear the friendly smile in his voice.
“There’ll be an evacuation team here within the next two days,” he says. “Maybe less, shouldn’t be more. They’re gonna get all the lookouts evacuated.”
Oh. Evacuation? That means… the city. Your apartment, back to your family and friends. You’d forgotten an entire world exists outside of the bubble you created for yourself.
“Okay,” you say slowly, still looking at the fire. “I assume you’ve told the other lookouts?”
“I’ve got a few more to call, but other than that, yeah, everyone’s covered. I told Soonyoung and Jihoon first,” Joshua tells you, and you blink at the fact that you didn’t even have to ask. “I’ll see you on the other side.”
“Yeah. Stay safe, Josh.”
You sit for a while after that, trying to cope with the feeling in your chest. You… you feel better about everything, about writing, for sure, but. But. It’s cut short, even if only by a little over a week. You haven’t even started packing anything up - so much of you is strewn around the cabin, in the field around your tower, in the trees of the forest you hiked through. You don’t think you’re ready to say goodbye to the place you’ve made your home and the people (person, your heart whispers) with it. 
The sun starts to set and the fire grows. You sit on your bed and look at the things you’ve made your own, a sunken, unfinished emotion spreading through you. Eventually it is Soonyoung’s voice that comes from your radio, low and humorous.
“The Hoshi Fire can’t be stopped…” he murmurs, and you laugh despite the loss you feel. 
“Please,” you groan into your radio after you’ve grabbed it. “We’re getting evacuated!”
Soonyoung giggles, something mischievous that makes your heart warm with slow appreciation. “I can’t believe it’s ending so soon,” you say, standing up to walk around aimlessly.
“Yeah, the summer went by super fast, huh?” Soonyoung replies. “I’m kind of excited, though. I’ve missed a proper dance studio.”
That’s… oh. 
A current of mild surprise rolls through you and you think you physically feel your jaw drop, just a little. That - that hurt. More than you want it to, more than you think it should - but it’s... fine. You’ve only known Soonyoung for a few months, it’s not like…
You realize you haven’t responded and open your mouth on purpose this time. “I wish we could share the sentiment, Hoshi,” you joke, hoping it doesn’t sound too stiff. 
If Soonyoung notices anything, he doesn’t say it. Only laughs, sweet and genuine. “I’m sure you’ll find something to yearn for just as I yearn for dance,” he says dramatically. You laugh, forced, because yeah, you will. Maybe you already have.
DAY EIGHTY.
Evacuation day.
Last day in your tower. Last day in the forest. Last day of the job you took to escape, to heal. It’s spent packing up the things you brought with you, throwing away everything else. Joshua said helicopters would be touching down at two points - Twin Peaks lookout and Mule Point lookout. Twin Peaks is Soonyoung’s tower, and if you planned it out right, you could probably get there and leave with him.
You tell yourself that the reason you can’t is because Mule Point is closer. Safer. They’re evacuating you for a reason.
“Hey.”
Speak of the devil, you think, grabbing your radio from its charging port. “Hi.”
“So,” Soonyoung says. For the first time since you’ve known him, he seems awkward. “Evacuation day.”
“Yessir…”
“What evacuation point are you hiking to?”
You pause, hesitate like you’re about to say something you shouldn’t. “Mule Point,” you manage to get out. “It’s closer,” you say after, your brain telling you to justify it, explain.
“What did the Hoshi Fire ever do to you?” Soonyoung huffs out through a laugh, and it sounds so unaffected that you feel that ache from before again. After a second, he adds, “so… this’ll be the last we talk. At least for a while.”
That realization hits you like a brick and the sting behind your eyes seems normal - regardless of whatever was built between you and Soonyoung or what lead you out here in the first place, it’s so sad that it’s ending. “Yeah,” you say quietly. Everything is packed, you just need to get hiking. “I, um. Is it cheesy to say thank you?”
“Maybe,” Soonyoung chuckles. “But it’ll also make me feel really good, so…”
You feel yourself calm down and let out your own small giggle. Maybe it was always meant to end this way, a little too soon, a little too sad. “Really… thanks, Soonyoung. I think it would’ve been worse for me if I got the silence I came out here for. I’m glad I had you to talk to.”
“Thank you, too,” Soonyoung says back. “I hope… you write again. I’ll talk to you later.”
The mention of it doesn’t hurt as much as it used to, and you feel the smallest of smiles on your lips. “Yeah. Later.”
The radio clicks off and that’s the last you hear from Soonyoung.
EPILOGUE.
It’s hard to come back.
From nature, from Soonyoung - everything, really. To go from trees and fires and talking every night back to car horns, busy sidewalks and your own apartment. It’s weird to wake up and not see the immediate shine of the sun through your windows. But you come back, slowly get used to the life you had before.
And you start writing.
Given - you get back in August only start writing again in October, but you write. Little by little, page after page. Maybe not every day, like you used to, but the words are back and they are eager to get out, leave their mark as your work. You stand up to your management (with Minghao’s support) and take control of your own writing schedule. The pressure from before leaves. Writing becomes special more than ever, returns as the one thing you never get truly tired of.
Minghao asks about the job, your summer. You tell him it was easy and peaceful, and that you’re thankful for the time. You mention the other lookouts. You mention Soonyoung. Only in passing, though. 
(Minghao definitely suspects something, but even if he asked, you wouldn’t tell him much.)
Sometimes you allow yourself to think of him - when you got back, you looked for a Soonyoung in the multiple dance studios in the city, but since you didn’t have a last name or any proper title, nothing came up. After that, you gave up, but he still shows up in your thoughts from time to time, bright blonde hair (the roots growing in) and glowing smile. It’s cold out, now, so you hope he isn’t getting sick and that he’s staying warm.
You’re reminded of just how cold it is when you have to brace the outside world to get your mail. There’s not even any wind, just an undeniable cold, and it makes your nose burn and eyes water as you walk the short trek to your mailbox. You find your slot and push your key in, unlocking it and gathering your mail. Most of it is junk, but you could have sworn something you ordered was supposed to come today -
“Excuse me?”
You turn your head to the voice and find a man walking towards you, his head turned down towards a small piece of paper. His voice sounds familiar, but you figure it must just be a neighbor you haven’t spoken to in a while. You turn your body to him, waiting for him to look up from the note so you can place a name on him. “Do you know where I can find an author…”
He looks up.
It’s Soonyoung.
He looks a little different - his hair is shorter, dyed black instead of the platinum you remember from last July. But it’s definitely him. The longer you stare at each other the wider his smile gets, and you stand, speechless. He’s looking at you like you’re the only thing in the world. Your heart starts to race, warms you up beneath your jacket.
“Found you,” Soonyoung grins. You can’t take your eyes off of him.
“Yeah,” you breathe. “You did.”
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terrm9 · 4 years ago
Text
you give it to me anyway (Tatum X Lina)
Set immediately after the ending of chapter 13.
Update (after the events of chapter 14): in this little series, Tatum does not go back to the army but is relocated to work as a bodyguard for some random politician in Rutherland. That's why this goodbye of theirs is not as heartbreaking as it was canonically. Therefore, shall the two other parts happen, they will not follow canon because I have them planned and I refuse to make new plans
WC: 3 600; rating: M (mature)
Warnings: swearing, making out, mentions of smoking, alcohol consumption, adult situations; hurt/comfort
Author’s note: my first Foreign Affair fic - it was so much fun to write I forgot about my two idiot doctors for a while. This is supposed to be part 1 of three-parts mini series, but 1) I have no idea when those two other parts will happen and 2) if it goes by plan, they will be all completely okay to read as stand-alones so hopefully this will be enjoyable no matter what.
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She could feel it. She could swear she could; she could pinpoint the moment her mind stopped working and all the energy normally divided between the gears in her head and the beating of her heart suddenly focused solely on the latter.
Her mind stopped working and her heart drummed against her ribcage twice as hard.
Lina doesn’t remember much after that, after bursting through the door and demanding an answer (“Why the fuck would you take Tatum off the team?”), her memories a messy blur of shouting (hers), a voice trying to calm her down (Demarco’s) and the one that mattered in the end.
“Lina,” Tatum put his hand on her shoulder, his face stoic – but she knew better, she could see his eyes, eyes pained, eyes pleading. “Get inside. I will be with you in a moment.”
“But-“ she opened her mouth to protest, only to be stopped by Tatum’s gentle squeeze and eyes more pleading.
Just get in and wait for me, he whispered and that’s how she has gotten here.
Pacing back and forth in her room, biting her lip so hard she feels blood. Her brain is working again, thinking and analyzing (overthinking, overanalyzing) and she needs a cigarette, a shot of vodka, she needs to punch something (someone), needs to just do something.
The tremor in her hands violent and she clenches them in fists, telling herself that it’s anger, a rage running through her whole body, but there is that traitorous voice that whispers – no, screams – that she knows this is more than that, that it’s fear.
A lump in her throat formed and unmoving and Lina swallows once, twice, keeps swallowing until she cannot catch her breath but the fucking lump is still there and tears are threatening to fall from her eyes and-
No.
Line Monroe does not cry. She has learnt not to cry, hasn’t cried since-
She does not cry.
Tries to take a deep breath but it’s completely useless and Lina knows how she feels. Like a crystal vase in the middle of a big wooden table, beautiful and shiny and protected at all costs – all of it worth nothing when an earthquake comes. This is her personal earthquake, every second pushing her closer to the edge, sobs threatening to cut her open, to leave her mouth and never stop and she wonders if falling over the edge and just break into million pieces would be such a terrible thing.
She could beg. She would beg, if only that would help. She only begged once in her life.
(Lina has never been the picture of a perfect child – well, definitely not after Tatum left. No, she lived for making her mother’s political career an actual hell, she laughed into her face in the middle of a scolding. The First Daughter of Rutherland couldn’t give less fucks about what her mother wants, needs, asks for. Nobody ever asked what she wanted, needed, asked for.)
She only begged once in her life – she was seven and desperately wanted a puppy. (She could do it again at the age of twenty-two and desperately wanting her Tatum.)
Mom, I promise I’ll be good. (Mom, I promise I’ll be good.)
I will take care of him. (He will take care of me.)
I won’t eat sweets. (I won’t smoke. Won’t get drunk.)
I will do all of my homeworks. (I will go on as many fake dates as you want.)
I won’t watch TV. (I won’t cause another scandal.)
I will clean the whole house! (I will attend all the summits, I will, I will.)
Mom, please. (Mom, please.)
She never got the puppy. (She knows that no matter how much she begs, she will not get to keep Tatum, either.)
An earthquake and she is starting to accept her fate, awaiting the final shake, the strongest vibration that will make her fall from the table and shatter.
There is a soft knock on the door and she feels it coming, the magnitude strong enough to stir fear inside of people.
Tatum walks in, closing the door behind him carefully – and the Richter scale does not have enough values to describe how dangerous this earthquake has gotten.
“Lina,” he whispers softly, stretching his arms towards her and that’s it.
The crystal vase falls to the ground (into Tatum’s arms) and the shards cut skin (and the sobs cut Lina open).
It is easy after the first one – like the blood spilling out of the cut, like a plug removed and water pouring, flooding, destroying, the sobs leave her mouth and her shoulders shake and Lina hasn’t done this in four years, hasn’t shed a tear for so long but Tatum’s arms encircle her, strong and firm and safe and no, breaking into million pieces is not such a terrible thing after all.
She thinks she screams in one moment and Tatum only hugs her tighter, slowly dropping to the soft carpet, pulling Lina with him, his arms never (never, never) leaving her shivering body – and she holds onto him tighter than she holds onto her own life (own dignity, own worth, none of it more important that holding onto Tatum), hands still clenched in fists. Lina’s grip on his perfect white shirt must be uncomfortable and she is sure she is ruining the fabric, if not with her nails then definitely with her mascara-tinted tears.
For a long, long moment they stay like that – Tatum kneeling on the floor and Lina curled up against his chest, sobs wrecking her body and his hands drawing soothing circles on her back.
“We will make this work, Lina,” he whispers when the room falls into silence, the only memory of Lina’s ignominious breakdown being Tatum’s soaked shirt and her throbbing temples. “You are strong and the other bodyguards are capable. Demarco is a good agent, they will keep you safe.”
“I don’t care about being safe,” she scoffs. “All my life, everyone has only cared about me being safe. You are… You have always been the only one to care about how I am feeling. If I am happy. And now you are leaving again.”
Tatum pulls back a little – not enough to break the contact of his hands on her shoulders, just enough to look her into eyes – and with a voice that is quiet but firm, leaving no room for doubts, he says: “I am not leaving you, Lina. I won’t be returning to army, okay? I am going back to Rutherland tomorrow and only then I will be informed about this move – maybe I am only being taken off for some time. This is not the same as the last time.”
“I cannot lose you again,” she whispers, not meeting his eyes. As if she was not sure about her decision to share such moment of vulnerability with him.
“You will not. Who is my toughest galyetas here, hm?”
Lina looks up at him at that, the initial shock from hearing the old nickname (the one she hasn’t heard in years, the one she has missed for years) soon replace by her smile, however faint and it’s like the sun peeked into the room all at once.
(Eyes puffy and red, cheeks wet from tears and lips swollen from biting and has she always been this beautiful?, Tatum wonders.)
“I am,” she chuckles before Tatum demands the answer and encouraged by the moment of clarity that has settled over them, she manages to stand up and open the closet.
Impulsive would be a great word to describe Lina. Unpredictable. Fierce. Mostly fierce, Tatum thinks and it should not be a surprise for him when Lina takes off her skinny jeans and light blue blouse, carelessly throwing them over the chair and it should not be a surprise when she follows the motion to take her bra off, no, it should not be a surprise for him and yet-
The heat in his cheeks is inappropriate, for God’s sake, and he should – he must – tear his gaze off her naked back, but he cannot (and how many nights he wished he was granted this? how many days?). He stares and stares as she ruffles through the closet and it’s his time to clench his hands into fists to stop himself from reaching out to her.
“I should… I will leave you to change,” he finds his voice and it’s low and husky and inappropriate, but Lina just smirks as she turns slightly to face him better and he needs to avert his gaze, he must not stare at the curve of her breasts, so perfect above her ribcage.
“You have already seen me naked,” the smirk widens. “And besides, you should get out of that wet shirt too.”
Getting out of his clothes does not sound like a good idea to him, not in the slightest, but it gives him a reason to look down and unbutton his shirt – and that motion gives him some time to take a deep breath and respond.
“Yes, I have seen you naked. When we were five and swimming in a lake.”
He can swear he heard Lina mutter ‘time to check how much has changed in those fifteen years’, but Tatum doesn’t trust himself enough to engage in that conversation and so he carefully slips out of his jacket and the stained shirt and switches his radio off before putting everything in a neat stack on the top of a drawer.
Tatum sits down again after that, his back leaned against Lina’s bed and soon she joins him, soft grey cotton shorts and tank top on. She mirrors his position and they share a private smile, because it is their position, the one everyone knows them by – knee to knee, shoulder to shoulder, (heart to heart), Tatum’s arm wrapped around Lina’s shoulders and her hand resting on his right knee. It is always this position for them and Lina can’t count how many photos they have together, where they sit exactly like this.
“Are we going to be okay?” she whispers, almost not daring to break the comfort they bring out of each other. But she needs to. She needs to know that they are going to be okay.
“Of course,” he nudges her knee with his own softly and smiles down at her. For a moment, she pretends she does not see the panic swirling in his eyes, giving away that he does not know, that there is no of course for them.
She nods, her fingers drawing mindless patterns on his leg and she is sure they are not that mindless, she knows that in a language only known to them she is writing her confessions, she is writing a love letter.
More mindless patterns and Lina feels Tatum’s eyes on her, caring and loving and worried, definitely worried, but she doesn’t look up at him because the emotions his gaze can stir inside of her are enough to send her into another breakdown.
“Do you remember Scott Diaz’s party?” she asks into the silence.
Tatum chuckles loudly and squeezes the shoulder he is hugging. “Of course.”
“It was the first time I got drunk,” Lina says as if it was an explanation itself, when in reality this conversation was not making any sense so far.
Scott’s party was the one which only Lina attended when she was sixteen – Tatum had to stay home to help his father with something (it was not important to Lina back then) and Lina didn’t mind that much because she liked Scott and she believed there were higher chances of her charming him without Tatum’s alert gaze directed at her.
“Yes, I remember,” Tatum decides to play this game that makes no sense with her. “It was my toilet you threw up into that night.”
“I remember getting drunk with Scott and his stupid friends and realizing that they were a group of idiots, with Scott being the greatest idiot of them all. But I was drunk and he was my first crush and I just wanted him to like me and I was ready to do anything.”
“Yes,” Tatum says again, this time much more quietly, though. “I remember your phone call at 2 AM. You were crying and asked me to come and rescue you because you are drunk and nauseous and Scott is a dick but you might sleep with him if I don’t come.”
There is a long pause and Lina thinks he might not continue. Even worse, she fears he might ask why she is bringing the story up now.
To her utmost surprise, Tatum laughs and continues: “I stole my dad’s car so that I could get you out of there faster. You threw up in the backseat and my dad almost killed me because he was supposed to take your mother to the airport the next morning.”
Lina laughs with him shortly and the room falls into silence once again.
Once again, Lina makes sure to interrupt the comfort it brings.
“And then you left and there was nobody to rescue me anymore.”
She is not sure why she said that. No, Lina does not want to tell Tatum about those years he has been away. She is scared (and she has never been that scared in her whole damn life), scared to share the failures and slips of her past, scared that he would get up and leave-
(Because that’s what he should do)
-scared that he would see what she sees every time she looks in the mirror and Lina does not care about the opinion of the others, she does not care if someone sees her as someone worthy or not, as long as that someone is not Tatum.
Deep down, she knows he would not, he will not leave, she knows Tatum - the same Tatum that strokes her upper arm now, giving her the space to sort her thoughts – will stay with her even in the moments she does not want to stay with herself.
And there is one fear that is bigger, greater, more terrible than the fear of being left – fear of hurting him. The idea of her past being the reason of his hurt, being the thing that puts the haunted look into his eyes, makes her want to throw up.
She will need to tell him eventually because if somebody deserves her honesty, it’s Tatum Mendoza, her best friend, her savior, her Tatum.
Eventually does not mean now.
Tatum wishes Lina could say something, anything, he wants her to share her demons with him and he almost asks her to tell him everything but before he can do so, she turns abruptly and looks at him, her eyes no longer puffy or red – glossy and bright and beautiful now and she doesn’t say a word.
She just looks at him like he is the only thing in the whole world worth looking at.
"It's your eyes," she says quietly, reaching to cup his stubbled cheek with her left hand.
"My eyes?" Tatum asks, surprised by the sudden statement.
Lina nods, tracing his left eyebrow with her finger before moving to stroke the skin under his eyes and finally reaching the bridge of his nose.
"There's no one else's eyes that could see into me," she whispers and her finger traces circles around his right eye now, soothing the wrinkles - reminders of their earlier laugh.
(She doesn't know those wrinkles are hers; nobody makes him laugh like she does)
Her gaze doesn't leave those eyes, not for a second and and the intensity she looks at him with is far more intimate than her naked form, bare torso and soft skin she shared with him moments ago.
Tatum is sure he must be blushing.
It’s the moment her thumb traces his lower lip when they snap.
The atmosphere of fear and uncertainty and mutual understanding so deep it ignites further fear changing into the one of passion and need and fire, fire, fire, burning inside and outside, the moment their lips meet.
He has kissed many girls and he knows Lina has kissed many people too and fuck, they even kissed each other before but this kiss is different, filled with more than just years of friendship (years of love) – filled with years of separation, years of longing, years of pain.
They kiss as if the pressure of their tongues against each other’s could be their private painkiller.
A moment later they are on the bed and Lina is not sure how they got there, she can’t remember they mouths parting but it must be so, because she is laying on her back, her hands firmly against Tatum’s shoulder blades to pull him closer and it still feels like he is not close enough, one of his hands next to her head and the other tangled in her hair, pulling on them and massaging her scalp all at once as he kisses her the way she has never been kissed before.
Lina’s hand moves from his upper back to his shoulder, caressing the old scar there and moves to his chest and his stomach and she feels him growl against the skin of her neck at the touch, the vibrations sending shivers over her whole body; she reaches his waistband and her finger fumble on the button of his trousers as he kisses her collarbone.
His fingers circle her wrist suddenly and he moves her hand away from him, gently (as he always is with her, gentle).
“You don’t want-?” she doesn’t know what to say. Me? This? Us?
“I want everything with you, Lina,” he sighs and it’s almost painful sound. “But I cannot take an advantage of this situation. You are – we both are – worried about your future, exhausted and uncertain and I don’t want our first time to happen under such circumstances. You deserve much better.”
There is a part of her that wants to cry again. Sob again and punch someone, because of course he is right.
(It is every single part of her, actually. Every single part wants to cry and sob and punch)
He is right, as he always is. He knows what she needs even when she doesn't know it herself – he always had known. Five years apart did nothing to change that.
Lina traces the lines of Tatum naked torso with her eyes and perhaps it should scare her how familiar it feels. She knows his body, every (almost every. Almost, she reminds herself) scar and every freckle, his flexed muscles and long fingers, she knows his body, even though she grew up getting to know a body of a boy and now her fingers are caressing a body of a man.
She hates how vulnerable she feels and how much she wants to share everything with him. But that's now what she has taught herself, no.
And so, despite the disgusting feeling of tension in her throat, she smirks and asks: "Why do you care about the first time so much?"
Tatum chuckles and makes a show of rolling his eyes (not leaving his position above her, not even now), biting his lower lip deep in his thoughts.
When he looks down at her again, however, his gaze is tender, too tender and intense and Lina has to avert her eyes because surely he can see into her, he can see all that she has done, all that she has caused while he was gone, not there to save her, to take care of her.
"It's not the first time I care about," he speaks softly and any hints of amusement are gone. "It's the first time with you."                                                                    
She almost asks him about his first time – she knows it must have happened after he left. There is the part that is Tatum’s childhood best friend and is simply curious. They shared everything with each other – first crush and first kiss and first platonic love, she knew his and he knew hers. Of course she is curious about his first sex or how many firsts there were, how many people that got to know him in the way she has never gotten.
There is another part of her, a bigger one, she realizes with dread, that hopes he would tell her that he has lost count, that his five years in army were filled with infinite excesses and that he would rather not talk about it – maybe then her deeds would be justified.
She cannot ask him because it’s Tatum and he would ask back.
What would she tell him?
She laughs to herself, a sardonic sound lacking any hint of joy it is supposed to carry.
I have no idea. I am not sure about the first nor about the last time. I cannot count them, I will never be able to count them because I do not remember.
I do not remember.
“Lina,” he whispers, still hovering above her. “Don’t do that. Stay here with me.”
“I-“ she opens her mouth – for what, she doesn’t know. To explain or to apologize?
“We do not have to talk, mahal. We can just lay next to each other until the morning comes, alright?”
Tatum lays down next to her and wraps his arms around her without further questions and as she puts her head on his chest and listens to the steady beat of his heart, she feels calm for the first time in weeks.
“Alright,” she whispers back.
They lay next to each other through the night, listening to each other’s hearts and breathing and Lina thinks that even though they don’t talk, there are novels of conversations exchanged between them that night, written in the softest of sounds they make.
  *** *** ***
Ever since finding out that Tatum is Filipino, I felt this desire in my heart to throw some (nick)names for Lina in his native language here and for him to use them. I can’t see him calling her darling on daily basis, but I can see him muttering it in the language he grew up with when the moment asks for it
galyetas = cookie, biscuit (Tatum’s nickname for Lina since forever)
mahal = darling, sweetheart
 I am not exactly happy with how the ending turned out but it’s not going to get better so you have to suffer through it with me
Thank you for reading!
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dancingthesambaa · 3 years ago
Text
The Smell of Plum Blossom Tea Ch 11
Summary: Just like a butterfly wing, a single act of kindness can change the course of the future, it certainly did for MK as a black furred monkey put out a hand towards him.
Rating: Teen and up
Chapter 11: It’s a Bittersweet Reunion
“Monkey King!” MK quickly stood up as he rushed towards his mentor, “it’s not what it-” he quieted down as he felt Monkey King glint ominously as he stared him down.
“You should probably listen to starlight there,” Macaque tried to say, but he sighed when the stare was directed back to him, but a lot more threatening.
“What have you done to him!?”
“Or you can just ignore me,” he sighed dramatically, but his entire body was buzzing in anticipation for the first strike. He knew how this is all gonna go down whether he likes it or not. So he takes a step forward with his hands out and says, “look Wukong, it’s-” then promptly stops as the Monkey sage takes a step towards him.
“Don’t you take another step forward,” he growled out.
“Look Wukong-”
“Don’t call me that.”
“I refuse to call you Monkey King, so Wukong,” he emphasized. He didn’t call him Monkey King back then and he sure as hell is not about to start now. “Open your fucking ears and listen, I’m not gonna hurt the kid.”
“Nice try, but I’m not buying it,” he watched his every twitch, just waiting to see when he would strike.
“But I’m not, you really think I’d hurt a kid?”
Wukong said nothing, but his narrowed eyes were all the answer he needed.
Macaque sucked in a sharp breath and gritted his teeth shut as his nails dug into the palm of his hands. He tried his best to ignore the hushed whispers in his head that begged him to show him real fear. Show how deep our shadows can take him. Show him how to see with one eye like him. Show him painpainpainpain. Then he let the air harshly out of his nose as clenched his teeth as he growled out. “You really think that low of me huh.”
“After what you did to them,” he shifted his foot back and gripped tightly onto his staff, “it does make me question a few things.”
The six eared demon couldn’t stop the jealousy and irritation that flowed through his mind when he heard those venomous words. Didn’t stop his hands from shaking nor his eyes or ears from twitching.
“What were you doing with MK,” he repeated himself.
“Oh some herb gathering, I’m out of stock you know,” he sarcastically said.
“If you're going to lie, at least think of a more feasible story,” Mac really wanted to rip off his tongue at that, “tell me the truth.”
“Or what?”
“But it’s true!” MK tried to say, but it seemed that his words were ignored.
“Or I’ll make you,” he let the golden energy roll over him as he stood in front of his student.
“Just try it,” he taunted as his own violent aura emerged and coiled around him. He knew where this was headed, but at this point he didn’t care, he wanted to vent out all his frustrations to this dumbass monkey for a long time. He sent over a glance to MK, who looked to be on the verge of a mental breakdown, to stand far away.
He heard it loud and clear as he opened and closed his mouth repeatedly before running as far as he could.
Then, in less than a heartbeat, there was a loud sound that blasted out as the two monkeys collided together in a burst of torrent energy.
BOOM BOOM BOOOOOM
They separated as the blow blew them both back, but Wukong charged first once more as Macaque sank into the shadows to avoid the attack. That didn’t deter the golden monkey as he activated his eyes of truth with a quick glance charged at one spot, only to block an attack from a clone emerging while the other followed suit.
“You really think it would be that simple,” taunted Macaque as he rushed in with a swing of his glowing staff.
Wukong easily dispelled the clones and side swept him with his own staff.
Neither side gave him as they instinctively began to run further toward the mountain while still attacking one another.
Both monkeys are opposite of one another in many ways, but those differences seem to not matter when face to face with each other as they both counter each other's moves.
When Wukong became a bird and flew high to drop down into a tiger, Macaque manipulated his shadows to tackle him out of mid air and send him spiraling to become a crater on the ground.
When Macaque tried to grapple him from behind and throw him to the mountain side, Wukong nimbly dodged and sent him a sidekick to the side.
When Wukong sent out a flurry of blows, Macaque easily blocked each strike with his own staff.
When Macaque attempts to kick him to the mountain and pin him there, Wukong jumps high and hurdles him away from him.
When one attacks, the other counter.
When the other strikes, one will block.
It was almost an endless cycle.
It may have been a long time since they last saw each other, but the knowledge and the instinct that was left upon them never failed for a second. So, with both monkeys equally matched it would lead to a stand still as neither side gave in or could push enough.
So how would this end?
With both sides killing the other off with one final blast, leaving the mountain and perhaps even part of the city in ruins?
Not quite. Actually it would end when MK had enough of this stupid fight and recklessly charges in.
“STOOPPP!” He yelled out as he made the final jump and stood in between the two enraged monkeys. He knows this is a very stupid move that he is gonna get lectured on later, but he thinks that this is the only way to stop the two of them from fighting.
And he was right. Both monkeys' eyes widened in horror as they saw where their attack was heading.
“MK/STARLIGHT!” They both screamed as both of them immediately aborted their powered up blast and screeched to a halt before they could run into him.
The sage monkey could feel his heart drilling in his ears as he was so grateful that he managed to stop when he did. Before he could grab his kid, another force beat him to it as he saw Macaque rush over to him. He sprinted over there to stop him from hurting him but it was too late as the black furred monkey grabbed MK, picked him up…and began to examine him frantically?
“Are you okay? Did you get hit? Did the excess release of the energy seep out and injure you? Do you feel any nausea, headaches, dizziness, need to run around and blow shit up, bloody nose?” He began to search not only his physical self, but his inner self in both body and spirit. He may train him and Mei to the ground every session and make them wish they wanted to rip out their own bones, but that doesn’t mean that he doesn’t take the utmost care of them. Hence why they have never left training with any broken bones or fractures alike, this is probably why everyone calls him a worrywart.
‘…what?’ Wukong blinked at the scene in front of him.
“I’m fine,” he tried to push the hands off him and focus him back on what was previously happening.
“That still doesn’t take away from the fact that you recklessly charged into the fight and almost got yourself killed!” He hissed out.
“Meep,” he lowered his head as he remembered, right, his Dad could care less if the world was burning around them if he was hurt in any way. Though that doesn’t stop the warm feeling in his gut at the thought.
“Ummm, what’s happening?” Monkey King couldn’t help but ask as he stepped forward, only to be stopped by Macaque turning to him, as he pushed MK behind him, and let out a short snarl to him with his eyes burning a bright violet.
He only stopped once he realized just who he was looking at and remembered what just happened not even a minute ago as he slowly eased his posture. But even when his eyes were focused on the monkey in front, he still kept three of his ears to MK behind.
“Wouldn’t you like to know tinker bell,” he couldn’t help grunting out.
“Okay, first off rude and secondly, I just want to know what you're doing with my student?” He rolled his eyes cause at this point he sorta figured out that he may have been slightly wrong about something. He just can’t put his finger on what.
“Oh now you want to talk,” the medicine monkey huffed, “would have been a nice idea before you decided to up and try to kill me.”
“I wasn’t going to kill you,” Wukong immediately said. “Just knock you out,” and that was the solid truth. He may not see eye to eye with him anymore, but he will not take away his life. He refuses to.
“Oh cause that’s so much better.”
“Would you rather you be a hundred feet underground?”
“As if you can manage that, I felt that last punch, it seems you are slacking old man,” he gave him a nasty smile.
“By only a thousand year!” His eye twitched at the age-old insult.
“Keep telling yourself that old man.”
“There may be a standstill but that still won’t stop me from throwing your scrawny ass off this mountain!”
“I would rather not,” both monkeys startled at the sound of MK's voice and they quickly backed away from each other as they just realized how close they were standing to the other. “I rather like my Dad alive.”
“MK don’t do-wait YOUR DAD?!” You can almost hear his neck snap towards his student at his words.
“Yeahhhh,” he couldn’t help but avoid those bewildered eyes as he rubbed his neck.
Wukong could barely comprehend his words as he turned his head to a very smug monkey.
“Surprise mother fucker,” he couldn’t help but say. He was very much enjoying this.
And for the first time, the Great Sage Equal to Heaven, finally took a good look at his former friend and noticed that he has definitely changed. He couldn’t decide what to focus on, from his new clothes, his long mane (which really threw him for a loop), his sleek fur, or his very sparkly nails. But he decided it was probably best to focus on the human he is actually willing to protect as he formed up an articulate question in his head out loud.
“Dad?” Nope, he was still very thrown off about this. Macaque is a Dad?!? Are we still talking about the same angst demon monkey that would barely even stand the presence of others let alone a human child?!
“Huh, congratulations. I think you finally broke what was left of his brain no matter how small it may have been,” he complimented his child.
“I really wasn’t trying,” he sighed as he stepped closer.
“Then that’s even more pathetic on his part.”
“I’m still here,” Wukong couldn’t help but announce.
“Oh really I thought you left,” Macaque sarcastically said, “well since you're here then I guess you finally have time to listen or are you just gonna be an impulsive idiot again.”
“Okay, I’ll admit that I may have jumped the gun, but can you blame me for thinking that you would try something to get back at me?!” He shouted back, not knowing the fuse he had lit.
“Excuse me!?” At this point the demon monkey was fed up as he began to march back over to the sage monkey to start round two. He hoped he did not imply what he thought he did.
“I-I mean you used to never do this before,” he quickly said to calm down the enraged monkey, though he probably should have listened to MK frantic hand movements as they all gestured him to basically ‘shut up before you get killed.’
“I ‘used’ to! Past tense you egotistical fool! People-demons-I can change! I have changed, I know I am not the same demon I was thousands of years ago!” He had to stop himself from dragging his hands to that pretty little throat/begging him to understand. “I am not the same.”
“And you just happen to stumble upon a human who so happens to be able to pick up my staff?” He said in disbelief.
“Want to hear something shocking? Yes! I did! I found him and I adopted him cause I could, cause I wanted to, cause I couldn’t stand the thought of leaving him alone! So get off your high horse and come down to the rest of us beings, cause the world doesn’t revolve around you Sun Wukong.” Macaque could barely hold in his anger as he spat out his name.
Wukong didn’t even flinch as he held his ground, he knows that people can change, he sure as fuck had, but right now he wants to make sure that the demon in front of him had changed for the better. He knows he is driving a bigger gap between them than before (hurtpainpainwhydontdoithetribematefriend) but he can’t take any chances, especially with the kid involved in their mess. “That still doesn’t mean that you won’t try to use him against me like before!”
And it was that moment that the fuse hit the combustion and Macaque erupted in a glorious and deadly violet light as he smashed his right fist into the mountain side and moments later, that came crumbling down.
“How dare you,” the low voice harshly echoed out.
“Wha-”
“How fucking DARE YOU!” Voices overlapped each other as a pulse of dark violent energy instinctively flared out towards Wukong, who was just able to stand his ground against the wave.
“Mac-” The monkey tried to speak but was abruptly cut off.
“How dare you accuse I would do anything to harm my child! Fuck you, you flea ridden coward! Here’s a fucking clue things change! I can admit I done some shit in the past, I screwed many over, and I damn sure stained red with the blood of innocent and guilty, but don’t you even dare for a goddamn moment that you never done messed up shit fuck face! But how fucking dare you accuse I would do anything to harm my child!” His eyes glowed in pure rage as he locked onto shocked golden eyes. He was done.
“No! No I don’t thi-” He shouldn’t have done this, he shouldn’t have said a damn thing.
“Shut up! Like fuck I know I made my own stupid mistakes and even when centuries have passed I will never make up for some of those, do you want me to say sorry? Cause I fucking am!” He clenched his robes to where his heart was as he gripped it right.
Wukong eyes feel like it couldn’t enlarge anymore as he reached out a hand to him, “Mac-”
“I’m sorry for attacking you and your friends so many times! I’m sorry that I couldn’t change my ways back then! I’m sorry that I couldn’t keep up! I’m sorry that I wasn’t able to stay by your side! I’m sorry for all the years you wasted being my other half!”
He is sorry that he spend all those years with his Sun, he is sorry that he couldn’t help but feel alive when he is with him, he is sorry that he couldn’t help but falling in love with him for all those years, but he doesn’t-will not say that outloud nor will he ever truly regret it.
Wukong feels everything shrinking in on him as he only has eyes for only one as of this moment. He could see the anger in his voice, the frustration in his eyes, and the rage in his stand.
But if there is one thing Macaque has always been good at, it is playing the part, cause he can also see the desperation in his tone, the misery in his eyes and the pure betrayal in how his shoulders are a bit too firm.
“Mac no! I-” He wanted to explain that he didn’t want this, that he was being an idiot.
“Shut up!” He didn’t want to hear anymore.
“Listen!” He wanted to explain it all.
“Shut up!” Not a single word, not now.
“Please, just-” He needs to tell him.
Then his glamor flickered as all of his scars showed on his body and his hazy blind one appeared as he bared his fangs and screeched out.
“I said SAVE IT BASTARD!”
It was dead silent on the mountain trail, no bird was chirping, no leaves were rustling, not even a sound of heavy breathing was heard. If you listened closely you could hear the beating heartbeat of every living thing, which was quite a feat unto itself, but it was suffocating to two demons facing each other on the mountain.
MK was the one who finally broke the silence as he walked up next to him, while making sure his footsteps were loudly heard, and gently spoke. “Dad, your glamor.”
That was what snapped Macaque out as he looked down to his scar filled hands and already instinctively knew the ones on his face, let alone the rest of his body, was prominent. So, he took a long deep breath as he held one hand over his blind eye and released it as he put the glamor back on.
“I’ll be leaving first starlight, yell if you need me,” he quietly said as he lowered his hand to reveal the scarless eyes.
“I will…are you okay dad?” He worriedly asked as he looked at him.
Macaque could only muster up a small smile at his child care as he ruffled his hair, before sinking into the shadows.
Not once looking back to his old friend.
MK could only faintly watch his dad shadow travel and as soon as he knew he couldn’t see him anymore, he whirled around to the Monkey King, who still had a very horrified expression, with a pissed off look, “What the hell was that?!”
“What have I done?” He hoarsely said as he still had his eyes on the traveling shadow even when it had long escaped from the mountain.
“I don’t know, maybe jump to conclusions!” He snarked out to the Monkey King for the first time. He respects him, he really does and that won’t change, but that he cares more for the monkey who raised him and took care of him for all those years. So yeah, he is getting some answers out of him whether he likes it or not.
Monkey King, who hadn't moved since Macaque left, finally pried his eyes away from the moving shadow, no matter how much he wanted to follow, and looked to his student. “I messed up real bad, didn’t I.”
“If you mean by indiscriminately yelling at my dad before he even had the chance to speak then promptly fighting him and then going back to yelling at him once more? Then yeah, you did,” he sarcastically said.
He winced at the harsh, but very justifiable, tone. “…so, he’s your dad?” And he still can’t help but ask, because Macaque raising a child was not even on his list of things he could have imagined.
“Geez, how’d you figure that one out?”
“You get your snark from him don’t you,” he couldn’t help but say.
“Oh yeah,” he unashamedly said, “he did raise me after all.”
Wukong wilted at the reminder, “He did, didn’t he.” It was after he said that was when he squatted down, gripped his hair, and let out a short burst of frustration. He doesn’t know if he can come back from this, if things were bad before, they are absolutely horrendous to the pit of despair now.
The student silently calmed down as he blinked at the monkey sage actions then a few things finally clicked into place. “You still care about him.”
“What, the books don’t emphasize enough of our ‘wonderful’ relationship to each other,” Monkey King couldn’t help but sarcastically say. He has read the book and let’s just say that there are some details so far off that it just makes him want to completely rip all his fur off.
“No, but dad does tell me that you were his first friend,” he plopped down next to him.
The Monkey King, “He talks about me?”
“Ohhh yeah, he told me all the things you guys did together. Like that one time where you tried to trick a corrupt ruler by disguising as a pair of priests.”
“To be fair, the two of us were really hungry and that buffet that he had looked real damn good, it’s not our fault that the man got outed in the end and was left on the cliff…well only a little bit,” he snorted. You can’t blame them for being hungry, but they may have had a rather loud conversation out loud about the extravagant feast they saw to a couple of people…in the market of the common folks….and as they were in the middle of a shortage. Things just tend to escalate sometimes, but can you really blame them?
“Dad just said that what goes around comes around.”
“That too,” he said with a small chuckle as he trailed off and sighed, “he was with me since almost the beginning. When I left the mountain for the first time, I didn’t have my monkey nor did I know anyone, so meeting him was a blessing.”
“He told me the two of you met after you ate a mountain deity offering,” MK said.
“Like I said, I was still new to the world and I barely knew a damn thing, but he was there for basically it all and has to be one of the main reasons I’m even alive today, cause I can be real and admit that he was at least 75 percent of my impulse control.” He remembered all those times he had run off at the sight of the newest shiny objects or the next food and the amount of times Mac had to drag his ass away from there before the two of them were caught. “And I managed to ruin that all…twice!” He moaned out as he gripped his hair once more in frustration.
MK just watched his teacher silently self deprecate himself, he knows what it looks like, and sighed as he patted his shoulder. “It’s not totally over.”
“I essentially attacked him twice! I know some of those scars were made by me during our first battle and his eye,” he stopped short as he could feel the bile rise up as he remembered the hazy honey color eye floating back into his mind. “I made him blind, he is blind in one eye and I did that. Fuck I did that…I can’t forgive myself let alone even think he will forgive me.”
“Dad can hold a grudge, but he can also forgive. By the gods knows how many times I messed up before,” he lightly jokes.
“You're his kid and by the looks of it, someone he cares for greatly.” He doesn’t think he has ever seen his friend that worried before unless it was aimed towards him whenever he got badly injured. There is a painful tug of something weird coming from his stomach at the thought.
“And you're his friend, someone who he also cares for,” he shot back. “The two of you need better communication, but you two aren’t shattered and crushed up by a horse hoof during a race, just a bit broken but it can still be fixed.”
The monkey looked his student in the eye, “You really think so?”
“Mmhmm, Dad has missed you for all those years after all.” If he was any less observant he would have missed his Dad's nostalgic expression whenever he told him a story about them or his sad eyes when he would ask questions about the Monkey King.
“He’s not the only one,” he said as he finally sat down from his squatting position. “…can you tell me more about him?” It was about time he got reacquainted with his friend, they had over five hundred years after all. Maybe it was time to go back in the world again and see what he has been missing out on.
“Well he likes to garden,” he switched positions and crossed his legs together, this was gonna be a long talk.
Wukong's eyes blinked rapidly, “Now that’s new, I remembered that when we needed food we would just go to someone's farm and take some food there, there were so many times Mac took out weeds by accident, but damn it we still ate it just for the laughs.” He gave a small smile.
“He still does that from time to time out of habit.”
“Complains about it getting stuck in his teeth?” His eyes brighten.
“All the time,” he agreed.
The monkey let out a short chuckle, “Is that why you guys were up here? To get more plants?”
“Well no, we were here getting some herbs.”
“Herbs? Like for medicine?” He shot straight up and tried to ignore the growing pit of horror in his stomach. “Are you sick? Is he sick? Are you guys okay?!”
MK quickly shook his hands to dispel the worries monkey, he already had one, he was not looking for another. “No, nothing like that. He’s…well I guess basically a Doctor, I mean no one really puts a name on it, but yeah he usually collects herbs for his supply.”
“I’m sorry, he’s a what?!” Great! And here’s another thing he could have never imagined that Macaque being! “When-how-why did he become a Doctor?!”
“Honestly, he just said he was bored one day and saw Ping making medicine and decided to learn from him,” he shrugged. He should be glad that the Monkey King has come out of his depressive state, despite his over reaction to his dad…though it is quite funny.
“Whose Ping?” He knows that this is not someone the both of them knew when they were still friends, so this must have happened after.
“Ping is the human who-” MK cut himself off as he realized that perhaps he shouldn’t just tell his father personal secrets to someone he just had a fight with. “…who is one of his friends, he can tell you more about it if you ask.” Which will not be any time soon.
“Yeah, I’ll do that,” he said with deceit dripping from his voice, totally spacing out when he heard the word ‘friends’. “What else?”
“He sometimes likes to do shadow puppetry in the theater.”
“Now that’s something I know he won’t give up, I remember that he was more dramatic than me when it concerns his puppetry.”
“That’s what I said and he still is!”
Now everything still wasn’t fine despite the lighthearted atmosphere that surrounded the two. There was still a bone deep hurt that needed much time to be healed and nurtured between the two immortal simians, but this was the first step, no matter how small this may be. It will take time, patience, and so many apologies before anything can be forgiven, but for now it was the time to learn and let both monkeys calm down. For when it is time to meet once more, it is needless to say that a certain impulsive simian is going to go full force.
The sun was setting by the time MK got back from the mountain, he decided to go to his dad’s place for the night after he called up Pigsy to tell him the small change. When he entered through the front door the whole house was completely dark and silent as not a single light was on nor a single sound was uttered.
‘Oh no,’ he silently thought to himself as he made his way past the living room, passed their bedroom and finally faced a closet where they stored all of their pillows and blankets. He gently opened the door and his heart dropped as he saw his dad there in almost pitch darkness, kneeling with his head almost touching the ground and his hands covering all six of his ears as he methodically tapped the back of his neck with his middle finger.
MK opened his mouth to ask if he was alright, but promptly closed it as he realized just how stupid that question was, so instead he quickly head out to gathered some items before coming back. He placed the bowl of fruit and water bottles on the shelf above, he gently pried his dad hands off his ears and put the headphones on instead, he made sure to wrap the weighted blanket around the both of them, and he gently redirected his dad head to instead lay on his lap after he closed the door and began to groom his dad mane.
And yet throughout this entire process, Macaque had yet to utter a single word nor even shift an inch from his spot.
The boy knew he wasn’t going to respond, but he still can’t help himself but feel a twinge of anger directed at the Monkey King at what he has done.
‘This whole day was a disaster and a half,’ he narrowed his eyes as he numbly threaded his fingers in the fluffy fur. ‘He may be a God, but he’s not infallible…he’s not perfect.’ And with this little thought, he began to really realize that despite status or power, no one can be truly perfect. Not the Monkey King nor any other higher being that claims to be above them all. It’s a cynical thought, but he thinks that maybe it’s more real than he can imagine.
But those thoughts can wait for now. Right now, all he wants to do is focus on grooming this fur and just being there for his dad.
In the forest when the moon was high all were mostly sleeping and all was calm. Though some were laid to rest, there were other creatures, both mythical and not, that were waking up to their nightly routine. Everything was the same as always and nothing had changed enough to really bother any creatures despite.
Not even for a newly planted Plum Blossom seed that lay deep within the forest.
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hacked-by-jake · 4 years ago
Note
Can you please show love of jake and mc while mc is sick and jake take care of her
Private Nurse
A/n: Hey, thank you very much for your request. I loved the idea. I hope you like it as it has become now. I wish you a nice rest of the day/ evening or night. Have fun reading.❤️
Pairing: Jake x MC
Words: 1,9k
Summary: Jake does everything for you
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A few days ago you woke up with a bad cold. A bad cough attack woke you up at 5 o'clock in the morning, unfortunately not only you but also the peacefully sleeping hacker. You were sweaty all over, the sheets were wet, your clothes and the blanket and your pillow. Your throat hurt terribly and your head felt like a bus rolled over it. Your ears were booming and your nose was blocked. Your throat was as dry as if you haven’t been drinking for days, and with each breath, your lungs have awkwardly rattled and scratched.
You’ve never seen Jake so worried. While a bad cough attack made breathing even more difficult, he sat next to you and calmly stroked your back and handed you the water bottle. The cool liquid in your dry throat felt like paradise itself. Carefully, Jake had pulled the wet strands of hair out of your face as you calmed down and his eyes widened in shock, God baby, it's feel like you’re cooking. Your forehead is burning up"
You feel so dirty, you even started crying at his sad look. He pulled you into his arms and just held you tight. After your little emotional breakdown, he got up to make you a tea and came back with a wet washcloth he put on your forehead. You moaned with relief as a few cold drops have rolled over your face and brought you a little improvement.
Unfortunately, you were so warm and you had sweated so much that he had to go again within a few minutes to switch back to cool water.
„I’ll fill you some water in the bathtub, okay? You should wash yourself and get out of your wet clothes, my love," he said, and you couldn't do more than nod your head.
Your whole body was so sticky that the thought of water was heavenly. You couldn’t have taken a shower, you felt too weak and exhausted.
He didn’t let you go by yourself, he came back and carried you to the bathroom. The cup of tea he had made was ready and a mountain of foam swam on the water. You could only imagine how good it smelled.
He helped you take off your clothes and put you in the bathtub, whose water was only lukewarm to cool you down a little. The water helped you relax your muscles and turn off your head. Even though you protested, Jake had asked if it was okay if he briefly went to change the bed linen. But you didn’t want him to bother if it was your fault, but he just ignored your weak attempts.
A short time later, he came back with your favorite book and sat on the edge of the bathtub.
He’d read you your favorite lines and lovingly pulled his hand through your hair. He helped you wash your hair and when you were done bathing, he helped you dry and put on. He carried you back to the bedroom with a new cup of steaming tea and a pack of tablets for fever.
Although he still looked terribly tired and had to yawn constantly, he stayed awake. He lay down in bed with you after he took his laptop and even took off his shirt so that you did not get too warm while cuddling. He had turned on your favorite movie and pulled you to himself. Your head lay on his chest and he caressed your hair calmly until you managed to fall asleep again.
The next time you woke up, which was already around noon and unfortunately you didn’t feel better. But luckily, you didn’t sweat as much because of the pills and the fever got better.
You could hear noises from the kitchen so you got up to see what the hacker was doing there. And when you saw the table full of things you like, you could have started crying again.
While you had been sleeping, he was on his way to get the right medication from the pharmacy and then went shopping to buy everything you like to eat.
He really thought of everything, different teas, crisps, chocolate, ice cream, gummy bears, juice, fruits like strawberries and cherries. Various soups with which you could probably survive the whole year and vegetables. But the sweetest were the different types of ice that he brought with him if your fever got worse and to calm your sore throat.
And at that moment, you had fallen in love with him again, how lovingly he smiled when he saw you. The way he came at you and locked you in his arms. Kissing you and not letting go while he explained to you what the different medications are.
He brought you back to bed and brought you soup shortly after and carried everything he had bought into the bedroom. With his charging cable for the laptop, he has laid back with you and you have watched movies all day, videos on YouTube, cuddled in silence or he had told you stories from his life. Stories of his escape, stories from the life of a hacker or he had just told what he was working on.
For the next few days, you have never felt so good in your soul, even though you were sick. Jake did everything for you, helped you with everything, and every second make sure you didn’t miss anything. Didn’t working, and only gave himself in to you.
You had felt really bad after three days because he was hanging by your side the whole time. You kept trying to explain to him that it would be okay if he wanted to work or have a little time to himself. That he didn’t have to stay by your side all the time.
But all he did was look at you in complete dumbfounded. As if you were crazy, he had looked at you and made you realize that nothing mattered except you. That he wouldn’t leave your side until you were better off.
The way he was disturbed by your words was one of the sweetest things you had ever seen. You knew the world could end and Jake would do anything to protect you and take care of you.
He made sure that you could go to the balcony for a few minutes to get some fresh air. He made sure that you didn’t get bored by alternating between movies, puzzles and board games or card games. He kept reading to you from a book, and you could swear that you were just getting better so quickly only because of Jake.
After four days and the still failed attempt to persuade him to go to work because you knew he would like to, you even told him he would annoy you, to get rid of him. If it had been up to you, of course, he could have just stayed with you forever, but you didn’t want him to sacrifice all his time just because you were sick.
When you accused him of annoying you, he just laughed and replied, "I don’t care if I annoy you. I won’t leave you alone until you’re well."
Then you started bugging him, reassuring him that he could leave and that nothing would happen to you while he was away. He’d be only a few rooms away.
Sighing, he finally got up and disappeared into his study. He’d locked the door behind him, and you’d turned on your movie again.
However, not five minutes later he came back with a broad grin. Amused you asked him what was going on, but all he did was lift you up and take the blanket with him. He took you to his study, and when you saw the big armchair from the living room, at the place where his desk chair should be, you laughed too.
He’d traded chair for armchairs and dropped on them with you. While you were just continuing to watch movies or videos, Jake had finally done the job he had been postponing all the days before.
Although you have really appreciated Jake’s sweet nature and his concern, you were happy when after a week you were almost really well again. And only thanks to the hacker who had done everything to make you feel good.
There hasn’t been a moment in the last seven days that he hasn’t been sweeter to you than sugar.
Every day you got new energy and every second you lay in his arms made you feel a bit better. The beaming and happiness in Jake’s eyes when you told him you were better, thanks to him, was beautiful. Seeing how proud he was that it helped you, what he did was reason enough to always get healthier. You knew he was the sweetest person in the world even before the last week, but if someone would have given you a dollar every time Jake told you he loved you or kissed you, on your forehead, cheek, lips. If someone had given you a dollar every time, you’d be the richest person in the world by now. You could rent a luxury yacht and spend your life sailing around the world.
Not only did Jake help you get better, he also made it clear to you again, at the same time that he was the only one who could make you happy, that he was and is the only one who deserves to be by your side. Even if he didn’t want you anymore, you’d probably be single all your life because there’d never be man like Jake. Who would treat you like Jake did, who would care for you like Jake cares for you, who would love you like Jake loves you. Every second with the hacker was the most valuable thing in the world for you, and the only thing that really makes sense. You knew before that Jake was and will be the only one for you, but now you knew it clearly. Jake is the most special and best person in the world.
When you woke up on the eighth day in the morning, you finally felt healthy again. Your throat didn’t hurt anymore, your nose wasn’t clogged, and you could breathe without coughing.
In a good mood you bent over to Jake and covered his face with a lot of small kisses until he finally woke up. But when you saw his glassy eyes and the deep shadows under his eyes, you immediately anxiously left to sit down, "Good morning" he murmured with a scratchy voice and immediately you felt bad.
You’ve been afraid to infect him all day, didn’t want him to feel as bad as you. Didn’t want him to suffer any more, because he had suffered with you the last few days. He also didn’t sleep much at night because you couldn’t sleep so well. Because you rolled around in bed or were constantly woken up by coughing fits, and now he was sick.
"I’m so sorry, Jake," you mumble with concern, brushing his cheek. In response, he turns his head away from you in a flash to sneeze.
And you decide to care for him even more than he did for you.
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🌹🎭
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Masterlist
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writingtoforgetreality · 4 years ago
Text
Help You - Little Movie Star Chapter Six (Jensen Ackles x Daughter!Reader)
[Actors-Masterlist], [Little Movie Star-Masterlist]
Previous Chapter / Next Chapter 
Summary: Your auditions were coming up. You would lie if you said you were not nervous but you remembered your lines. So nothing could go wrong. Maybe something would. But that something was not associated with the auditions.
Words: 2,003
Warnings: nervousness, little fangirl moment, anxiety, dark thoughts, panic attack, a lil sass, fluff, love for Jared <3, (Y/A) = your age
If you like my work & wanna support me: a coffee would be highly appreciated ❤
~2016~
“You know your lines?” Jensen asked for the thirtieth time today. Honestly, if you did not know better, you would say he was more nervous than you.
“I do, Jensen.” you did not ask him to stop questioning you. All you did was sending him a smile. Seating yourself in front of your laptop, (Jensen gave you his old one so you could write) you breathed slowly & controlled. Yes, you were nervous but you had a good feeling. Jensen & Danneel, both wanting to support you, each took seats right behind the laptop, only for you to see.
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The first audition went by smoothly. You remembered all of your lines & implemented what was asked of you. Once you started, your nervousness faded away & you were delivering the lines confidently. At the end, they told you they would let you know as soon as they discussed everything with the rest of the crew.
“I’m proud of you, (Y/N).” Jensen stated after you ended the video call. Nobody had ever told you that. It meant a lot to you & he could tell by the way you reacted. Now, the waiting began. Jared had asked you to text him once you were done & you did. Letting him know that everything went fine.
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You were more anxious for the Marvel audition. Unsure why, your heart was racing & your hands were trembling. It was not any different than the first one. Well, except for the fact that THE Russo Brothers were the ones doing the audition. You had been a fan of their work for years & wanted to deliver perfectly. Also, being part of the next Avengers movie? Surreal. You remembered it so clearly, when you watched your first Marvel movie in theaters. It was now or never. Again, Jensen & Danneel stood close by, hoping it would calm you down just the slightest.
Throughout your audition, you forgot your lines once or twice but covered it immediately by improvising a scene that you found fitting. It was weird. Sitting in front of a laptop, acting out a scene you were rehearsing before. You imagined working on film sets with other people to be easier. Here, you could only focus on the screen in front of you & Joe & Anthony Russo were not exactly people you wanted to focus on. Hell, you were acting like a crazy little fangirl.
“So, (Y/N).” Anthony started. “We actually have a few more auditions for this role coming up.” in the corner of your eye, you saw Jensen picking up his phone & walking out of the room. Huh, weird…
“I really don’t think we need to see more, though.” Joe continued.
“What we’re trying to say is that, if you want to, you got the role.” Anthony finished, smiling brightly. What did he just say?
“Really?” you could not believe it. They wanted you! YOU! Someone who had never acted before. The Russo’s simply nodded at you & told you that every piece of information would be sent to you in the following days. Somehow, you managed to end the video call professionally but not before thanking them again & again. They said you were a natural & a perfect addition to their new movie. And you were just loving everything at the moment.
Running over to Danneel, you hugged her tightly. She congratulated you, telling you that this was what you deserved. When you wanted to ask where Jensen was, he reentered the room, a big smile plastered on his face.
“I got the role!”
“You got the role!” the two of you said at the same time.
“What? I thought you were on the phone, how do you know?” how could he know about you getting the role if he was not even there?
“You’re talking about the Marvel one?” his eyes grew wide. You nodded & he pulled you into a hug.
“Today’s your lucky day, angel.” Jensen picked up that nickname from Danneel & you sure as hell were not complaining. “Just got off the phone with our producer. Welcome to the Supernatural Family.” it took you a moment to process what he said.
“Wait…Does that mean-?” Jensen nodded. “Oh my god! This is crazy…” you were pacing now. This being the only thing you could do at the moment.
“Congrats, (Y/N)! We need to celebrate!” he immediately called Jared to tell him the great news.
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A celebration party was set up for this evening. Everyone was coming. The Padalecki’s, this time with Tom & Shep (& baby number three that was already growing inside Gen’s belly). Jensen’s parents were invited as well which meant that you would meet them for the first time. You were not a fan of parties, especially when the attention was on you, but Jensen & Danneel were so excited while planning everything, you did not want to ruin it by admitting that you actually disliked events like this. Being the center of a crowd made you uneasy but you just got two acting roles, you could play pretend for a few hours, right?
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The party was not as bad as you first expected it to be. Meeting your grandparents for the first time was nice, they welcomed you warmly & told you that they were glad they could finally meet you in person. Everyone here knew about your upcoming roles but you were asked to keep it secret for the time being. People would find out soon enough anyway. This celebration tonight was more than you had ever had. Not even once had you had a birthday party or something similar. You were not used to these kinds of things. Apparently, you should get used to them since such parties occurred more often with these people. Though you had to admit that it would be a challenge for you. You liked each & every one of these people here but still, there were these tiny voices in your head that just would not shut up. Telling you that you did not deserve to have them in your life, that you were not good enough to be an actor, that they were better off without you. Shaking your head to rid yourself of these awful thoughts, you could feel your breathing becoming irregular. Shit, please not now. Not in front of everyone. You had to get out of here, you could not have a full blown panic attack when you were supposed to celebrate & have fun. Looking around the room, you saw that the kids were playing & the others were caught up in a conversation. If you were to make an exit, now would be the time. Without a second thought, you got up & hurried out of the room, heading for the safety of your own bedroom.
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Shutting the door behind you, you did not even make it to your bed. You fell down to your knees & crawled the remaining distance to your bed where you sat with your back pressed to it. Your breakdown was stupid, you knew that. You got two acting roles, something you had dreamed about ever since you were little. You had a family where, for the first time, you felt like you actually belonged. Hell, there were people here to celebrate you. But the past always seemed to catch up with you, no matter how hard you tried to move on. You could not breathe. Why could you not breathe? If you did not get yourself together, you might actually pass out. Shit, you could not do this alone. But you also did not have the strength to get up. Your phone was left at the party because you forgot it in your state of panic. Trying to yell for someone to help you, you found that your voice had left you.
Experiencing panic attacks like this was everything but fun. Like you were the main character in a horror movie & you made all the stupid mistakes the audience usually joked about. There was no way to escape. You did not hear the knock on your door, neither did you feel when a presence sat down right next to you. But still, nobody was touching you. And you were grateful for that because who knew how you would have reacted to anyone touching you.
“You gotta breathe for me, (Y/N). In & out, in & out. Try to match my breathing.” was the first thing you heard after minutes. You knew the voice but could not tell who it belonged to. Not that it mattered in the moment. Having someone to tell you how to breathe was all you needed.
“There you go, you’re doing great.” the voice encouraged you. Your breathing slowly returned to normal & you were exhausted like crazy. Looking to your right, you found Jared sitting next to you, smiling slightly. Shit, you just embarrassed yourself in front of him.
“You okay?” he asked, still concerned about you.
“I’m sorry.” your voice was hoarse & it felt like almost every ounce of strength had left your body because of this panic attack.
“Nothing to be sorry for.” he assured you. “I could tell you didn’t hear me right away & I wasn’t sure if you were okay with me touching you so I tried my best to get your breathing back to normal.” you were unsure how to answer him. You knew he struggled with his own mental health. Maybe he thought you were faking this. At least other people always believed you wanted attention whenever you went through an episode like that. It was the exact opposite, if you were completely honest.
Silence filled the room once again. Jared was not done with talking, though.
“Do Jensen & Dee know?” you scoffed at that. If they knew they probably would have never set up this party in the first place.
“I guess that’s a no then.” he answered his question himself. “How long have you had these?” maybe it was the fact that you were too tired, but you found yourself opening up to Jared.
“Ever since I can remember.” admitting something like that was not easy but it was the truth.
“You should tell them.”
“So they have another reason to send me back?” Jared widened his eyes at your statement. Were you really thinking that?
“They would never, & I really mean NEVER, send you back, (Y/N). They care for you a lot & they’d be more than open to help you with this. You don’t have to go through this alone.”
“Oh yeah? Well, I’ve been dealing with this for (Y/A) years on my own & I’m doing just fine.” the moment you said it, you heard that you were way too harsh with him. That was not your intention. “Sorry, Jared. I didn’t mean it like that.” looking down to avoid his stare, you waited for him to get up & walk out of your room. He did not, though. No. But his next question caught you off guard.
“You want a hug?” that was all you needed at the moment. A slight nod of your head made Jared pull you closer to his body. His embrace felt like a safe haven & you were happy that he was the one who followed you upstairs. Jared let you hug him for as long as you needed. Right now, you were all that mattered. And if you did not want to tell Jensen or Danneel, he would. They were his best friends & if he knew you were struggling, it was his job to let them know as well.
“We’ll get through this together, I promise.” pressing a soft kiss on the top of your head, he could feel you tightening your grip on him. For once, you wanted to trust another person’s promise. For once, you needed another person to keep their promise. You were not sure if you could keep going otherwise.
~to be continued~
Next Chapter
Published (04/24/2021) by Cathy
Tags: @vicmc624​, @imaginationisgrowth​, @stoneyggirl​, @alyispunk​, @thevelvetseries​, @multifandomlover121​, @samsgirl93​, @supernatural3002​, @diabetes-03, @prettyybubblesintheair, @originalsoulcollector​, @vir-tual, @bellero​, @sergantbuckybarnes​, @namelesslosers​ (let me know if you wanna be tagged <3)
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henyangwrites · 4 years ago
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Our Love Story | w. yk
Pairing : Lucas x Reader
Genre : Fluff, a bit of angst?
Word count : 3k+
Warning : none, too much fluff if you squint
⋆┈┈。゚❃ུ۪ ❀ུ۪ ❁ུ۪ ❃ུ۪ ❀ུ۪ ゚。┈┈⋆     ⋆┈┈。゚❃ུ۪ ❀ུ۪ ❁ུ۪ ❃ུ۪ ❀ུ۪ ゚。┈┈⋆
I never thought that I'd come to this point, I never thought that I'll ever change my mind about getting married, let alone be with a guy for a long time. I never believe in fate, or destiny, or stuff of some sort but the gods must have their own way to change my mind.
Meeting Lucas wasn't really expected, we met each other at a party because our common friend, Ten, introduced us to each other. Cliché, I thought. We hung out throughout the remainder of our college days, we enjoyed each other's company with or without our other friends. They often teased us that we'll eventually end up together, but we shrugged and laughed it off. 
When we graduated, we separated ways as we all have started our own jobs, some even had to move places. It took a lot of adjustments, sleepless nights, crying, and breakdowns until I finally got the hang of it. I eventually left my first job after a few months, it wasn't working well for me, it felt like I was being held back from growing. I was lucky enough to find a job at a well-known company after a few months of searching, there, I found joy in my work. I felt more free, growth is always an option which of course, I keep on choosing. As a token of appreciation for my own hard work, I took a one week leave to have a vacation.
I was enjoying my time at the resort that I've decided to go to, it wasn't until my second day there that I happened to bump into Lucas who I soon found out was the general manager. We were happy to see each other, of course, since we lost contact when we separated ways in college as we both got caught up with work and personal life.
"You don't need to, Lucas." I declined his offer that he'll pay for all expenses I'll consume while staying, "I insist." "Lucas." He pouted when I sternly uttered his name, "Okay, I'll just give you a discount." "Okay." For the next days that I've spent there, Lucas often comes to check up on me, making sure that I was enjoying my time, even accompany me after his work hours. He doesn't change at all, physically he does, but he was the same bubbly, passionate, and caring guy that I met back in college. Running out of energy doesn't seem a part of his vocabulary, he's also still sweet as ever. On the last day, which was also his rest day, he offered me a ride to my apartment so I accepted.
For the next few months, we meet up together to hang out, even meeting up with our other friends when we have the chance. It's like it has became a constant thing for us to meet every weekend to relax, to go for a long drive and return to the city the next day. Or if we're feeling lazy, we're just gonna spend time at each other's apartments and wasting time watching movies or trying cooking different dishes. It felt like we were back to being those clueless college students, those young adults who were in the state of confusion between enjoying their youth or starting to prepare for the responsibilities that's waiting for us in the real world. It was one of those weekends where we're awake at 2AM, a random love song blasting through the speakers, loud enough for the both of us to hear without disturbing the neighbors. Lucas stood up laughing and pulled me along, his arms wrapping around my waist so I wrapped my arms around his neck. 
"Can I be honest with you?" He asked as we start swaying, I chuckled, "You're always honest with me, Yukhei." I answered, making him laugh lightly then licks his lips. "Well, there are things that I wasn't able to tell you…" I raised my eyebrows at him, thinking that he's not obligated to tell me everything. "The truth is…." He looked away for a moment as he cleared his throat, then, made eye contact with me after. His stare was intense, it felt like he's staring into my soul. "I'm in love with you." I felt my breath hitched, my heart beating faster than the times I have to present to the big boss of our company and the investors. "I know I shouldn't but…. I just can't help it, I thought it's just  a silly puppy love back in college but when I saw you again I just…. I just want to do everything to make you mine." A sigh escaped his lips, "but you don't have to love me back, I'm not asking you to. I just can't hold it back anymore."
"Lucas…." I don't know what to say, I was overwhelmed but I know I feel the same way, too, but my mind started to be filled with what ifs – what if it doesn't work out? What if we just end up hurting each other? What if he wants to get married when I don't want to? What if I end up breaking his heart? "It's okay, you don't have to say anything. I'm sorry for making things awkward–" "I love you too." I blurted out, fuck those what ifs, I thought, it's Lucas; every risk is worth it if it's him. "I told you–" I cut him off with a kiss, I closed my eyes when I felt him pull me closer to him as he deepened the kiss.
Just as expected, there's never a dull moment in our relationship as Lucas always had something up his sleeves. When we're not together, he often sends me messages to remind me to eat on time, to check whether I made it home safely, he even picks me up sometimes without telling me beforehand. He never made me feel like he's holding me back from growing, when I tell him that I need time for myself, he won't disturb me at all, just leaving a few text messages and just waits for me to text him again. He was patient, too understanding, it made me doubt myself – do I deserve him?
Two years into the relationship and it's like we're stronger than ever, a few petty fights now and then but it was immediately resolved, after all, he always finds a way to talk me out of it. We never really had a serious fight until the mention of marriage was brought up – he was ready to settle down, I wasn't yet. I was scared, the thought of marriage doesn't sit well with me, after witnessing how it ended up with the people around me, it made me doubt whether I could handle it if our marriage ends up that way. 
We didn't talk to each other for weeks, giving each other space to think about it. Anxiety got into me, what if he leaves me? What if he decides to just find somebody else who wants to get married as much as he does? It's not that I don't want to, I'm just scared. But it's Lucas. It's him, the man who has so much love to give, the man who puts up with me even at the times that I was hard to understand, the man who was patient enough to deal with me when I snap at him when I'm frustrated, the man who always root for me when I decide to try something new, the one who cheers me up when I'm at my lowest, the one who chooses me over anything anytime. He'll change, the other part of me thought, but fuck it, it's Lucas, there's no reason to doubt him.
When I made up my mind, I let a few more days to pass to make sure that I'll not change my decision before sending him a text. It's Friday so Lucas came as soon as he's done with his shift, it was awkward while we're eating dinner, after all, we didn't talked for weeks. "Uh…. what is it that you want to talk about?" He asked when I took the space next to him on the couch, it felt like there was a lump in my throat. "Uh…" I cleared my throat and turned my body to face him and he does the same, looking at me intently as he waits for me to continue. "About the wedding…" it was his turn to clear his throat, he must be nervous, thinking that I might break up with him as he knows why I don't like the thought of being married. "What about it?" "Lucas…. let's do it, let's get married." His eyes widened at my words, clearly shocked. "W-What?" "I said let's get married?" I repeated, "What? Why? If you're pressured or anything, don't make rash decisions, you don't need to. It's okay with me if you don't want to get married…" He said, sadness was evident in his voice, making me sigh and move closer to him and put my hands on the sides of his face, my thumbs are caressing his cheeks. "I do want to get married, I know I'm scared but it's you, Lucas, there's no reason to be scared, right?" His eyes softened and a smile appeared on his lips, "Are you sure?" He asked, I smiled at him and nodded. Then, he takes out something from his pocket and it was a velvet ring box. Lucas takes my hand and puts it on my ring finger, then looks at me again and said, "I'll never make you regret your decision."
Time flies, the preparations were stressful but fun, our families seem like they're more excited than us. Our college friends showered us with an endless amount of teasing, saying that we should've believed their words. During the last week before our wedding, we were too busy to see each other, our families didn't even let us see each other the night before the wedding day, a belief of some sort.
And there was it, the wedding program at the church ended before our eyes after exchanging vows, and of course, the reception was a whole different story. Laughter and tears filled the program as our parents gave their speech, telling our embarrassing stories, giving us advice, telling us how scary marriage is but we can work it out. Even our closest friends gave their own speech, which made the reception much more enjoyable with our college stories. Just when I thought it was done, the host, our friend Johnny, suddenly called him. 
"So Lucas, I heard you have a surprise for your bride?" Johnny asked, Lucas laughed and nodded, taking out a paper from the pocket of his suit. "Ah yes, I hope everyone is still awake for another round of speech." And everyone erupted into laughter, Johnny left him to give him his spotlight. I couldn't leave my eyes off of him, just what does he has in sleeves this time?
"So uh, love, hello." He started, "Oh wow, I never thought it would be this hard to give a speech in your own wedding." He joked, making me laugh, "There you go, don't be too nervous, it's not like I'm gonna expose you or something, or maybe I will?" He joked again, making me jokingly roll my eyes at him. "It's been what? 7 years? Yeah, 7 years since we first met each other at the party Ten held. Cliché, that's what you told me two years ago when we decided to date each other, the way we met. At first, it was just pure friendship for us, right? We hang out, study together, but do we, really?" Everyone laughs at his joke, "No I'm kidding, she's very studious, she doesn't like being disturbed back then, right?" He said and pretended to hand me the mic so I just nodded. "I've seen her more than a handful of times breaking down back then because of the deadlines, whenever I receive a text from her asking me if I want to go to get some ice cream, I just know she's stressed out. But I admire how she managed to finish every one of it few days before the deadline, and at the end, the lowest she got was like 96? As far as I could remember." My heart felt so warm, he always remembers the smallest details. "Our friends always tease us, saying that we should just date each other, it was a joke at first, but then I realized…. I was having a crush on her, I was able to realize it when we took a late night drive to the beach. Again, this is a cliché love story." He stopped for a moment then licked his lips, "while we're sitting on the sand and I turn my head to look at her while her eyes are closed, I felt peace, contentment." 
"But I never made a move at her, we still remained buddies that got each other when we're down or not. I thought it's just silly, little puppy love, but when graduation day came, it felt bittersweet knowing that we might never see each other again." "Boo!" Our friends jokingly whined at him, "I did wait for her to message me again after graduating, but we're adults, we have our own stuff to deal with so eventually, I just shrugged it off and just let life be. If we're meant to be together, then fate will do something. So I guess you're all curious how we met again?" He asked, and they answered yes in unison, making him grin. "So, you all know that I'm working at a resort, and she happened to be there for a one week vacation, and we happened to bump to each other while she was looking for the bar." "She's such an alcoholic." I heard my dad said which made the people laugh again. "Since then, we started hanging out again during weekends just like the old days until one night, I couldn't take it anymore and just confessed."
"Our relationship was fun, a healthy one they said, but you know what tested us? Marriage." Lucas stopped and nodded, "Yes, marriage. It's supposed to be a fun topic for couples, right? Well, not for her, at least. You see, my lovely wife here is scared of marriage due to reasons I can't disclose." He chuckled, "I don't know what changed her mind, but I'm glad she did, but even if she didn't, I'll still stay with her nonetheless." He looked at me then smiled sweetly, "then and there, I proposed to her and promised that I won't make her regret her decision." At that moment, I started tearing up. "I know I may not be the perfect boyfriend, or husband, but for her, I'll do everything I can just so she wouldn't get hurt, let alone get bitten by a mosquito." He joked once again, "She's always been the confident and independent one, there are days that we don't talk to each other because she needed her space and I was like okay, I needed mine too, like we're not really all over each other. And that's what I love about her, she doesn't need to talk to me everyday just so she could say that I love her, she doesn't ask for anything at all so I'm just yeah, fuck it, I'm just gonna surprise her." He chuckles, "She's really stubborn, like if I said I'm gonna pay for our dinner, she'll say she's gonna pay for hers, since then, I started paying in secret before we eat just so she couldn't do anything about it." 
"She's not the showy type, a total opposite of me, she barely posts anything about us, but I never once doubt that because that's just how she is – she likes keeping things private, we go on a date? Okay, one picture, we go for a vacation? Okay, a few of it and then that's just it." I laugh at his description because that's how I really am, "And most of all, she's fragile, I had to learn that the hard way. She's strong yet so fragile, but she can't show it, so I had to teach her that it's okay to be fragile sometimes, she has me, she can vent to me anytime of the day, she can cry in my arms when she's tired." I didn't notice that I was crying until he walks towards me and wipes my tears, "Wait. I'm not done yet." He joked, making me laugh a bit, "Nah, I'm kidding. I already told you everything that I want to, I just need to say this one." He steps back and looks at his parents, "Ma, Pa, I want to thank you for raising me to be a man I am today. For constantly guiding me, for reminding me to always be kind to everyone, that it's okay to give more than to receive." Then he faces my parents, "And Mom, Dad, thank you for giving birth to this lovely lady right here." He said and pats my head, "And for giving your blessings to us, for entrusting her to me. I won't promise that we'll have a perfect marriage, but we'll do our best to keep our love strong." Then he turns to me, reaching out for my hand as he looks at me with the most loving expression in his eyes. "And to my lovely wife, I love you, today, tomorrow, and for the days to come, I will love you. You're the best one the gods have blessed me with, so no matter what problems we'll face, through good times or bad times, in sickness and in health, I will be with you. I thank the gods for giving me the chance to be yours in this lifetime, and I hope for the next lifetime we'll have, you will find your way back into my arms again."
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transsexualhamlet · 4 years ago
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alright it’s time for as requested part two of rowan reads the original sherlock holmes and compares it to yuumori
i finished a study in scarlet and holy shit was yuumori accurate to it
obviously they changed the case so that... well, moriarty was involved, and they didn’t go into detail on why drebber was an a-grade piece of shit (lol i wasn’t expecting the mormons but it was a great perspective actually doyle went big brain time on that one lmao) 
Hmmm i mean the other main difference is that Watson Is Gayer In The Original but yeah obviously that’s for a reason and the reason is william james moriarty
I have some highlights of “oh my god I need to see yuumori sherlock do this right now because he Absolutely Would” and they’re WILD
So yuh here are your Sherlock Moments
-when watson asks stamford why he might not want to board with sherlock bestie went “he’s a little queer” and watson was basically like “i like that in a man :)” like i am Fully Aware that’s not what queer meant back then but it’s FUNNY alright
-stamford is also like “yeah i mean he’s the kind of guy who would probably perform human experiments on his friends without telling them”
-watson walks into sherlock’s lab like hello new roommate :) and the dude immediately starts SCREAMING
-he’s all I GOT IT I GOT IT I GOT IT LOOK and fucking stabs himself and drips the blood in a container, yeah yeah it makes a reaction and he’s like I AM GOING TO SOLVE ALL CRIMES EVER ACTUALLY wait who are you
-SHERLOCK THEN PROCEEDS TO SEAL UP THE CUT WITH P L A S T E R AND THEN HANDLE POISONOUS CHEMICALS WITH HIS BARE, INJURED HANDS
-watson moves in with this dude and is like “oh wow im really interested in this guy but im Polite so i cannot ask him anything” so he starts snooping around trying to figure out what sherlock does for a living?????? like he couldn’t just fucking ask???? and he’s like wow he has these clients and he kicks me out of the house every time they come over i Really Don’t Want To Think He’s Fucking Them
-obviously, and to watson’s embarassment, he wasn’t. sherlock is a virgin and it is very clear
-watson describes sherlock in the most homoerotic way possible i don’t even know how to describe it bestie goes on about his hands for a full paragraph it’s really gay man
-WATSON IS SO POLITE ABOUT IT ITS ACTUALLY HILARIOUS ISTG HES LIKE I AM KIND OF SERIOUSLY OBSESSED WITH THIS DUDE BUT I COULDN’T POSSIBLY JUST ASK HIM ANYTHING OR LIKE TRY TO GET CLOSER TO HIM I WILL SIMPLY WRITE LISTS ABOUT HIM AND DIAGNOSE HIM WITH AUTISM
-he’s also like “i don’t know i really think hes on drugs i would say he’s on drugs but also he’s like this all the time and he might just be mentally ill” lo and behold it was both
-SHERLOCK GOES TO BED AT TEN PM AND GETS UP AT 4 AM EVERY DAY WITHOUT FAIL
-m o t h e r f u c k e r  d o e s  n o t  k n o w  w h a t  t h e  s o l a r  s y s t e m  i s
-and when asked why he doesn’t know! he’s like my dear watson! i simply cannot be bothered! my brain is filled up with more important things! 
-watson compares him to some fictional detective that edgar allan poe made up and sherlock is like HIM OH MY GOD DO NOT COMPARE ME TO THAT MOTHERFUCKER I AM BETTER THAN THAT
-it’s honestly really cute watson apparently will sit and listen to him play the violin and like request pieces and stuff and yeah sherlock can play those fine
-but most of the time if he picks it up on his own sherlock will just start plucking it with his fucking hands while slouching in a chair and sitting like L Death Note and playing random notes that Vibe 
-watson HATES it
-watson once picks up this paper sherlock has lying around about yknow. deduction and all that and how you find things out and watson is like “this is Bullshit who wrote this what the fuck this is the most unrealistic thing i’ve ever read” and then sherlock is like I Wrote It Shawty and watson is like. um. oh haha i take back everything
-MAN I JUST GOTTA POINT OUT I AM A TEENAGE BOY AND I COULD NOT STAY SERIOUS WHEN DOYLE THOUGHT “EJACULATED” WAS A GOOD WORD TO PUT IN PLACE OF SAID
-lol he was like “ahahahhaa my deductions” and watson was like “but How Did You Do It” and he’s like “I WANT TO LOOK COOL WATSON DONT MAKE ME RUIN IT BY EXPLAINING”
-GHHHHHHHHHH BESTIES when sherlock was Infodumping to watson About Crimes watson was like “oh my god that’s so cool bestie!” like Once and watson described it like “i was complimenting him like he was a girl and i called him beautiful and he blushed” LIKE DUDE THATS GAY
-that one time sherlock yelled “THE PLOT THICKENS” and lestrade was like “i t  w a s  t h i c k  e n o u g h  a l r e a d y”
-dude thinks he’s wrong ONCE and has a mental breakdown in front of the entirety of scotland yard before like five seconds later realizing that he was not, in fact, wrong
I’d say that the main difference between him and yuumori sherlock is that og sherlock has a massive fucking ego and yuumori sherlock is very loud but has no ego at all. Og sherlock will brag about how smart he is to anyone who will fucking listen. Yuumori sherlock will only boast abt his intelligence around Moriarty because he knows they’re both mindfucking
Other than that... I honestly cannot come up with significant differences between them. You can really tell how similar they are especially with the sign of mary episode- dude was just like >:((((( the entire day because watson has a fiance and then he walks in on a dead body and goes now hERES SOME FUN
He’s very accurately and enthusiastically portrayed, as far as I can tell, and I think that’s really epic. I love him. I might kin og sherlock too guys ngl
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ateezmakemeweep · 4 years ago
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you’re the one that i want (part 12)
word count: 3k
angst, fluff, smut
(part 11) (series masterlist)
tag list: @chogiout ; @psshwa ; @yeocult ; @seongghwaa ; @cherryeonii ; @chaoticbanqtan ; @8teenee ; @nczenniez ; @atinyarmyx1 ; @mingtopiaa ; @chubsluda ; @joongiebug ; @mochibabycakes ; @jisungity ; @skz-on-my-mind ; @nlost21 ; @myonlyaurora ; @closer-stars ; @kuaenam3g ; @byungaji ; @floweryjh ; @joeycheungg ; @lostscenarios ; @atinyxtopia ; @sanisms ; @kpopnightingale ; @simpforhyunjin ; @89staytinyzen21​; @lokicaramel​ ; @ttalgimin​ ; @sakura-uji​ ; 
seonghwa knew this breakdown was coming.
he knew it was only natural, given the way you’d been reacting in the days leading up to this night. the last night before your parents came and got you tomorrow at noon. before you two were ripped away from each other and, in just a few weeks time, thrown back into the swing of classes.
you’d be dealing with new friends and a new school and a whole new neighborhood while he’d be dealing with living back at home with his dad. he’d inform his friends of what he did before they tell him all about the parties they went to, the girls they fucked and all the stupid drama he missed.
like any of it’s gonna matter when he’ll be plagued with the memory of you. the happy things like your breathy moans and smile and giggle that make him happier than anything he thought possible.
but he thinks the worst thing will be remembering your cries and whimpers tonight. the way the tears are building in your eyes and you’re trying so hard for him and yourself not to let them fall.
"i’m gonna fall!” you squeal, attempting to balance your feet on the board.
it was your second day of learning how to surf and had been nothing short of a disaster, seonghwa’s hand on the board as he assures that even if you do fall, it’s gonna be painlessly into water.
“that’s not really helping,” you grumble, his wet face smirking at you.
it amazes you, really, how the sun is shining down so brightly on him and there’s not an imperfection in sight. dripping blonde hair with a sharp jawline and shining eyes. you know you probably don’t look that nice, your face red and blotchy from the uneven burn as he smirks up at you in a way that makes you incredibly nervous.
“you get too caught up in your own head,” you hear him say, squinting at him with a slight pout on your lips.
“because i’m scared,” you tell him quietly.
and even though you were only talking about surfing, it felt like more at the time. you were scared of starting a friendship with him, scared of opening yourself up and being in his way because you can’t even imagine why he wants to be around you.
you didn’t know why he was doing that and that’s why you were scared. didn’t know why he’d look up at you with such an...intrigued look in his eye, like you were something to be curious about; what you see is what you get with you and that’s an extremely nervous, blabbering idiot.
“there’s no reason to be,” he says to you quietly, your eyes meeting and something heavy settles in your heart.
you also didn’t know what that feeling was at the time but you knew that you liked it. that even though you couldn’t quite make out what this boy wanted from you, you were gonna give him anything. even if it that was you and your already fragile heart.
“nothing bad is gonna happen.”
“nothing bad like that is gonna happen, baby,” he says against your head, listening as you tell him you’re scared of you both losing contact or interest over time. you sigh against him and nuzzle your face into his arm, watching the setting sun from your balcony.
he turns and takes your face in his hand, frowning when he sees the sad look in your eyes. 
“i hate seeing you like this,” he mumbles, his thumb rubbing over your face gently.
it had been a good day prior to this, spending the morning down at the beach with the boys before eating lunch with them at the diner; you both even took them to the aquarium you had gone to all those weeks ago, where you couldn’t stop the memories from your first date playing through your head.
planning your second date accidentally, educating him on nemo and dory and crush and walking hand-in-hand through the nearly empty building.
that had been a day that could’ve been ruined, honestly, given the date’s shaky start. he could’ve taken you home to finish his business with those boys or you could’ve demanded to leave after overhearing what you did.
but you both stayed and that was the night you really thought you were falling for him.
when your nervousness slowly dissipated and you just knew he wasn’t gonna hurt you like everyone else in your life; because it seemed silly at the time but he really did calm you, the way he handled you with such care and allowed you to drag him around from tank to tank.
"why are you laughing?" he asks softly, the smallest hint of a smirk on his face as amusement laces into his voice.
"because you make me nervous," you admit, looking up at him. "more than usual."
a breathy chuckle leaves his mouth as he moves his hand away from you and puts it on the glass, watching that same clownfish that was swirling around yours move to him.
"dory's not scared of me," he says lowly, not even needing to see your face to know you look outraged and annoyed. "so you don't have to be."
but now with the night time approaching, you know it’s coming and you’re unsettled.
you’re trying so hard to be happy and you want to be but it’s hard not to think about tomorrow. it’s hard not to think about how your closet and drawers are packed back up in your suit case and in less than fifteen hours, you’ll be back in your car and going to a new house.
the thought brings a fresh round of tears to your eyes and you’re quick to let out  a sigh, going up to wipe at them before seonghwa’s thumb flicks them away.
“did you not just hear me?” he asks sternly, the contrasting small, sad smile on his face causing you to giggle slightly.
“i’m sorry,” you whine, nuzzling your face back into him so he doesn’t have to look at you. “i just can’t stop thinking about it.”
and with that knowledge, seonghwa stands up and abruptly throws you over his shoulder. you let out a surprised yelp as you scream his name, squealing as he walks through your bedroom and down the stairs.
you pass your aunt and her friend’s who watch in amusement from the dining room table, their glasses full of wine and a cheese platter in the middle. you hear one of them compliment seonghwa on his strength and the shudder you feel go through him immediately makes a laugh bubble out of your mouth.
but the moment the warm night air hits your body and you sense seonghwa walking towards the pool, your laughs quickly stop.
“hwa, don’t you dare!” you squeal, hitting at his back and flailing in his hold. 
but your voice only holds amusement and you’re giggling and that’s all he wants for tonight so he doesn’t think twice about flinging your clothed body right into the pool.
your body hits the cold water and you jump up to scream at him just to see him sitting on at the edge, his feet in the water as he looks at you with a smirk.
“are you kidding me!” you squeal, swimming over to him and splashing him violently.
“sorry, baby, but it had to be done.”
you jump up and out of the pool, your clothes dripping next to him and he’s about to ask what you’re doing when you run directly behind him. 
“then so does this,” you say with a content smile, his loud groan when he hits the pool filling you with a sense of satisfaction.
he pops up and shakes out his wet hair, his tongue poking at his cheek as he looks at you sternly.
but he can only keep it for a few seconds because you’re smiling so bright and it tugs at his heart; that’s all he wanted to see tonight, you smiling and laughing and not crying into his shoulder.
so instead of pretending to be mad or chastising you, he holds out his arms and  tells you to jump. you narrow your eyes at him because it feels like you’re a child learning how to swim but you do it anyway, landing perfectly in his hold as a tiny grunt leaves him at the impact.
“hi,” you say with a small innocent smile.
he rolls his eyes before grabbing you around the waist, your legs wrapping around his body before he dunks you back and gets your hair even more wet. you giggle and smack at him playfully, splashing water up at him before jumping off him and swimming away.
your aunt watches from the window as you two swim around, his chuckle and your whine of his name grabbing the attention of all of them.
the group of women watched you two progress over the summer, how your gazes turned softer and sweeter and how seonghwa would always have to touch you. 
whether it be guiding you by the small of your back or having his arm around your chair; it was something that warmed all of their hearts, which was pretty amazing since almost all of them were, admittedly, bitter divorcees.
“they are so sweet,” one of the lady’s says, watching as you jump out of the pool followed shortly behind seonghwa. you don’t get very far before he catches you around the waist and picks you up, your squeal promptly followed by a splash.
“i know, he’s been here every night this week,” your aunt informs them.
she doesn’t mention the way she’s heard your soft cries when she’s out on the porch and you two are on the balcony. nor does she mention that after you fell asleep, seonghwa had come down and asked if everything really was okay for you at home.
“i know she’s your sister so i’m not implying anything,” he said over the table, the cup of chamomile tea she always offers him but he rarely drinks next to him. “but she’s so scared to go back to them and i...do they hurt her?”
she couldn’t control the way her eyes widened when she heard him ask that, the boy maybe mistaking it for an insult but not even bothering to apologize. because she saw it, the anger and disgust in his eyes that if she even thought you were being hurt and sent you back, he was gonna go ballistic.
“they’re assholes, seonghwa, i’ll be the first to tell you but i don’t think they would physically harm her.”
and those were her honest thoughts, she’d never think in a million years that they’d stoop that low and abuse you in a such a way. and a part of her hoped you would tell her, that if you were in danger and needed a safe place to stay, that you knew you could come to her.
the answer seemed to simmer the boy and he nodded his head, calming the thoughts that have also been invading him in the days leading up to your departure; he was just better at hiding his sadness over it than you and it showed itself in a different way.
his brain convincing him that something’s not right and that neither of you are gonna be okay without each other. but that’s absurd, he thought, you didn’t even know each other two months ago and now you need each other to survive?
but his heart pulling in his chest scares the shit out of him, preparing him for your separation and knowing that once you two are apart, he doesn’t fully know how he’s gonna react.
he’s never felt like this before. he’s never loved anyone and has never had to leave someone he loved; but he’s just hoping, praying, that he doesn’t react to this heartbreak like a fucking idiot.
“what do you think they’re gonna do?” another woman asks, sipping from her glass of wine as he looks at your aunt. “i think they could do long distance. look at their love.”
“oh, jesus christ rose,” the older woman says, throwing a cracker at the woman when she sees tears welling up in her eyes. “you are absolutely ridiculous.”
“young love is the best love!”
they look over to see you both back in the pool, your arms around his neck as you throw your head back and giggle. and everyone can suppose that you two are a clear cut case of young love:
feelings that developed incredibly fast but felt overwhelmingly strong, a desire to see each other each and everyday and never get sick of it, a tragic end where you two are gonna be pulled apart and put to the test to see just how real the past two months have been.
“of course i did, i haven’t lived under a rock,” seonghwa says, your face pulled into one of extreme shock as he tells you this whole time, he had known about finding nemo. that it’d been one of his favorite movies growing up and he only pretended not to know.
“but why!” you squeal, “you....you even kept confusing nemo and dory on our date!”
he rolls his eyes and brings his finger under you chin, pulling you close so he can peck you with a cute, chaste kiss. “because you were so cute telling me about it,” he mumbles lowly, feeling his smile against your lips as he recalls you going on and on about it. “how could i have stopped you?”
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"i don't wanna leave, i don't wanna stay with them anymore. i don't wanna leave you and everyone else and go back to my stupid new house with them being there," you cry out like a child, feeling the relentless tears prick at your eyes again. "i'm gonna miss you, seonghwa. i feel so safe with you.”
"i'm right here, baby, i'm not going anywhere."
“baby, can i ask you something?”
you look up at him from where you lay on his naked chest, the both of you laying in your bed watching a movie. you’d taken a shower after you got out of the pool, one thing leading to another before his hand covered your mouth as he fucked up into you against the cold tile.
it had all started innocently, him washing your hair and brushing the conditioner through. you squirting the loofa with soap and wiping him down with soap, writing words and smiley faces into his back.
but then the inevitable seemed to happen when your mouths gravitated toward one another, lips parting and his tongue slipping in before you daringly dropped down to your knees.
it’d been a fantasy you were dreaming about, just dropping to your knees unexpectedly and taking him in your mouth. and it seemed as if it might’ve been one of his too because his hands grabbed at your wet hair and he threw his head back as quiet curses left his mouth.
and when you looked up at him, your tongue circling the tip before sucking him down, that was it. that’s what made him growl and pull you up, force you to jump and sit on his cock so he could fuck you right under the steamy flow of water.
the angle hadn’t been one you felt before and everything about it was remarkable, him hitting something inside you as he sucked hickies into your chest that made you scream and whine into his hand.
“what?” you squeak as you look up at him, the small smile and sweet, questioning glint in your eyes making him reach down and touch your face.
“is there a reason you don’t wanna go home? are you not safe there?”
because something about your words that day are still haunting him for some reason, seeing the way you transformed right back into that scared, nervous girl he first met in the presence of your parents. the way you would flinch away from him in the beginning and not be able to hold eye contact.
and he thinks it’s more than going to a new house and a new school.
it’s how you actively tell him your parents hate you and question why they had you, how you told him you don’t wanna leave this town and feel safe with him; because if that’s the case, then you need someone to be safe from and that doesn’t sit well with him at all.
the question makes your stomach sink and you immediately feel the need to defend or deflect. to ask him why he’d think such a thing and insist that of course you’re safe. that just because your parents are mean and snap at you doesn’t mean it’s a completely terrible environment.
and while you can’t tell him the truth, you can’t lie to him either.
“it’s...fine,” you say quietly. “they just say a lot of things that hurt my feelings and yell. but who’s parents don’t? it’s just....normal family problems,” you tell him quietly, blinking back the tears trying to form in your eyes because you don’t think being smacked and kicked and fearing for your life some nights is considered normal family problems.
he swallows the lump in his throat and narrows his eyes at you, his thumb caressing your face as he bends down and kisses your forehead softly.
you close your eyes at the feeling and remind yourself to bask in this for the rest of the night. the way it feels to be held and kissed and loved because you don’t know when it’s gonna happen again. if it’s gonna happen again.
“whatever they say, know it’s not true,” you hear him mumble against your head. “they don’t know how lucky they are to be able to see you everyday.”
those words leaving his mouth catch you off guard, any time he says something sweet like that making your heart flutter and tears prick your eyes. and he knows it too because he looks down at you and smiles, shaking his head before placing another peck on your nose and lips.
“please, baby, no more crying tonight.”
and you try for him again but it proves to be a failure, burying your head in his neck and allowing your wet, salty tears to fall on his skin. you try to control your breathing and sobs threatening to leave, neither of you commenting on the death grip you have on him.
“i’m gonna miss you,” you whimper against him. he lets out a humorless chuckle as he pulls your face back, moving you on your back so your wet, teary face is right in his sight.
he leans down and kisses the salty tears off your face, your nose scrunching because your face is wet and sticky from them; but he doesn’t care, he just wants them gone and you smiling for the last few hours you have left.
“i’m gonna miss you too, baby,” he says, “but i’m here now. and i’ll be here when you wake up.”
you bite down on your lip and nod your head, another tear breaking free when you pull him down so your lips meet in a kiss. he lets you take over this one, lets you put your hands on his face and pull him into you, part your lips on his and slip your tongue in as you completely take the lead.
he lets it happen the whole time until you’re undressed and under the sheets, memorizing every inch of each other’s bodies one last time until he’s thrusting into you. it’s a slower, steadier pace that makes you cry out, his hips rocking into you slowly so he can bring you to your high gradually.
he whispers that he loves you in your ear, that no matter what happens he’s always gonna love you because how could he forget the girl who completely changed his summer and turned him into a man he never thought he could be?
(part 13)
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