#It's sad but on some updates there's really nothing for them to scream about | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

godslino · 7 months ago

Text

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Everything okay?”

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

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

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

He shifts on his feet, still unsure.

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

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

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

Guilt, maybe, amongst other things.

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

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

“Have fun. Tell Minah I said hi.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I’m sorry for your loss.

Your grandmother was a wonderful woman.

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

Oh, what a lie forever is.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Don’t give me that look.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Off-kilter. Disoriented. Exhausted.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A stranger. But undoubtedly Jisung.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And in Jeju– it rains.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You could come with me, you know.”

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

The air was cold. The apple tree was bare.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I love you too,” you whispered back.

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

“But I can’t.” you choked.

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

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

And in Jeju– it rained.

“I think you should talk to him.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Jisung’s not a dick, he’s just–”

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

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

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

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

“Four.” you correct.

“God, even worse.” he grimaces.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Well?” Hyunjin pushes. “Are you?”

You shrug. “No, not really.”

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

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

“But we were supposed to get lunch—!”

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

You gape at him. “What was that for?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Can you be honest with me?”

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

“Do you love him?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You blink. “Hi, Jisung.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m sorry that–”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I know.”

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

“I–” his voice cracks. “I know.”

“You lied to me.”

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

“I know.”

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

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

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

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

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

You’re only human, after all.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hi Mrs. Kim, how have you been?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I mean, it was yours.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

So, naturally, you do it for him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No, you don’t.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I was being nice!”

“Uh huh.”

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

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

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

“No there isn’t!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Ready?” you ask.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You. Him. This.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Since when did you get good at this?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Look at you throwing a tantrum.”

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

“Okay fine. I’m throwing a tantrum.”

“Thought so.”

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

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

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

“I didn’t–”

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

He smiles. Slow and sweet like molasses. Blinding.

“And the fact that you suck.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Play something good, Jisungie.”

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

“You got it.”

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

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

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

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

Jisung, Jisung, Jisung.

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

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

Jisung lets out a low whistle. “Harsh.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What?” you blink. “What the hell?!”

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

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

“Magic, I guess.” he chuckles.

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

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

Things are different now.

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

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

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

“Hi.” you whisper against him.

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

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

“Hi.” he whispers back.

The apple tree is much bigger now.

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

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

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

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

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

“Ji.”

“Hm?”

“Can I ask you something?”

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

“Of course.”

“Am I ever gonna see you again?”

He takes a deep breath. “Yes.”

“You said that last time.”

“I know.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Don’t be like that.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That’s not what I said.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Did you ever even love me?”

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

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

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

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

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

“No, Jisung, you promised me that–”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jisung stops by the shop early to say goodbye.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Jesus Christ Hyune, did you have to–”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You are so stupid.” Hyunjin sighs.

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

“Come on. We have to go.”

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

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

“What is that?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Can you be honest with me?” he asks.

You nod, slowly.

“Do you love him?”

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

“So much that it hurts, Hyune.”

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

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

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

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

“I’ll send them to you.”

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

“I’ll manage.”

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

“I’ll miss you.” you say weakly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The airport is crowded.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

537 notes · View notes

touchme-teezme · 2 months ago

Text

Last Pick.

PAIRING | ateez mingi x female bodied!reader

TAGS | angst, smut, friends to lovers(?), p0rn with a plot with a cliffhanger (oopsie), lots of kissing, oral, reader was angry then h0rny…and then sad :( oh! and mingi’s lowkey a hoe

RATINGS | NSFW 18+ (minors DNI!)

SONGS | Cherry Hill - Russ, That's why I love you - SiR & Sabrina Claudio & Do you like me? - Daniel Cesar

SUMMARY | you and mingi are best friends. he likes you, but you love him. one fight changes the trajectory of your friendship forever.

AUTHOR’S NOTE ▸ i didn't know if i wanted to write angst or smut... so here's both? a bonus fic to celebrate the hard (pun intended) launch of my blog! it’s a bit more dramatic than i’m used to but that’s what creative writing is for. i have a few other members in my drafts. i plan to update sometime this week. might just spam them idk. i've been in such a writing mojo lately; i think i just miss ateez haha. also if you’re new, english is not my first language so if i get some terminologies mixed up, sorry!! that's all, enjoy ya freaks.

inspired by a quote from ‘save me an orange’ by hayley grace. “Stop looking at me like that.” “Like what?” “Like I’m someone you could actually love.”

It was getting late, and you were growing tired.

Mentally tired. You were tired of hearing the same stories, the same kind of complaining, and most of all, tired of pathetically waiting on the sidelines. You’ve been avoiding the truth for so long that you didn’t notice it consumed you.

You weren’t Mingi’s type. He liked their personalities, bright, funny, and effortlessly interesting. Feminine, sexy and confident. Girls that could lead and had interesting hobbies. Compared to his colourful dating history, you felt like you weren’t anything particularly special.

You finally accepted that tonight, while drinking on your balcony as you listened to how his tinder dates this month went. At the mention of the second girl (whose name you already forgot), you were already dying inside.

Before you thought it wouldn’t get any worse, he went off topic and started talking about his future and what he actually wanted.

He blurted out that he should just marry you if he was still single at 35, declaring he had officially given up on the shrinking dating pool.

He looked at you with a mix of admiration and bliss in his eyes. That stupid, goddamn part of your brain convinced you it could happen. He acknowledged that small 0.0001% possibility of you and him ending up together, so there was actually a chance you could actually be with him.

But reality sunk in and drowned you.

Song Mingi would never love you.

That’s when the little glimmer of hope you’d carried throughout your friendship shattered. The shards had cut you and hurt bled out.

“Stop looking at me like that.” You sighed.

“Like what?”

“Like I’m someone you could actually love.”

Mingi didn’t know what to say at first, but at least a hundred responses came to his mind.

His face (which usually said whatever he was thinking for him) settled into a look that screamed Where did THAT come from? for him.

That was enough to discourage you altogether. You let silence grow between you two, quietly finishing your last sip with nothing but the sounds of midnight Seoul traffic beneath you.

You set the glass bottle on the table and rose from your chair. “I’m going to bed. You can hang out here or just leave or whatever.”

Mingi took a few seconds to process the shift in mood before he ran after you inside. He thought you two were having some decent conversations, but he got ahead of himself like he usually does.

“Hey, hey, what’s going on?”

You paused and turned around slowly. You were trying to carefully pick out the right words from what you were feeling.

“Nothing. I’m just tired.”

“I know, that’s why I came. You weren’t really replying to me and San said he hasn’t heard from you. I…I just wanted to see you.”

“Well, you saw me. You can go.” You shrugged.

Mingi furrowed his eyebrows. “If this is about what I said about marrying you, I wasn’t serious. I know you don’t believe in marriage and—“

You let out a wry scoff, cutting his weak explanation short. You could’ve been mean, throw him out, laugh it off and say you were kidding. But you couldn’t ignore that feeling in your chest anymore.

With eyes shut, you murmured, “I hate how you make me feel sometimes.” and when you opened your eyes, they were already watery.

Mingi's face fell. "Hey, c’mon, I didn't mean to upset you."

He approached you delicately, his large hands encasing yours with a gentle touch. If he were to pull you in for one of his bear hugs, you might explode.

You quickly stepped back, creating distance between as you refused his hands. “That’s all you do lately. You don’t even realise half of the shit you say and how much it hurts to hear.”

His eyebrows furrowed, he was now growing very concerned. “I thought we were friends.”

“Do friends make each other feel like they’re the last pick of the litter?”

Mingi's eyes widened. "Last pick? Hey, what is going on with you?"

You laughed, but it was devoid of humour. "Let me break this down for you. All I have been hearing about these days are your dates, your perfect girls, how you have no connection with them so you’re going to die alone and yet you’re still choosing to sleep with the entire city. Then you throw out this ridiculous idea of how you want to settle down eventually, and when you’ve had your fun, you would marry me. Do you have any idea how that feels?"

He looked taken aback. “But… what I said, that was a joke and—“

"A joke?!” Your voice rose. "My feelings are a joke to you? Do you have any idea how long I've been…”

You stopped yourself, your mouth hanging slightly open as you realised there was no point. You had no business convincing a man to want you.

Still, the volume and hurt in your voice stunned him into silence despite you not finishing your sentence.

"You know what? Just get out." You seemed firm and dismissive, yet your heart was breaking. "I can't do this anymore. I can't keep pretending that I'm okay with just being your friend if this is how it’s going to be until you… decide to settle. You have to go."

Mingi stood there, shock and confusion written all over his face. "You don't mean that. Please, we can talk about this.”

"No, Mingi. Just leave," you insisted, your voice cracking as you further widened the space between you, your hands held up in surrender as you walked away. "I'm done."

Yet another awkward silence grew between you. For a moment, Mingi didn’t move. He just watched you slowly walk towards your closed bedroom door disappointed.

Then, as if something snapped inside him. He finally realized what this was about.

You had feelings for him.

You didn’t say it out loud, but it made sense and Mingi felt like the biggest asshole in the world. He crossed the distance between you in two quick strides, desperate to reach you. His hand grabbed your shoulder first, turning you around.

“No, we’re talking about this.”

“I have nothing else to say to you. Go fuck someone new on tinder and just leave me out of it.”

“Dude, come on this is not how we talk to each other.” He was getting way too close to you.

“I couldn’t give two shits about how we talk to each other when you’ve pissed me off. So now, you have to go.”

“You almost said it a minute ago. Tell me why the girls bother you, why what I said bother you. I need to hear it.” He demanded.

Okay, that pissed you off more than you already were. Your chest heaved with the intensity of your emotions, the words bubbling up from a place you had kept buried for too long.

“This is stupid,” You whispered, shaking your head as your eyes continued watering as your gaze pierced into his. “You’re stupid, and you make me feel stupid.”

“Say what you wanted to, and I’ll go, and we never have to speak again.”

“So that’s it? You want an ego boost? You wanna feel on top?!” You practically yelled in his face.

“If that’ll make you be fucking honest for once, it might be worth it!”

“You’re so pretentious. I can’t believe I ever stuck around this long!”

“Why did you then, huh? Tell me exactly why you did!”

His yelling echoed in your apartment. You felt your heart beating in your throat as you stared at his lips.

Fuck it.

You closed the final few inches of distance between you in a swift motion. Gripping onto his shirt, you pulled him towards you forcefully, crashing your lips onto his with all the built-up anger and frustration pouring out.

Mingi was completely caught off guard by the intensity of the kiss. But the second you tried to pull away, he grabbed you back in. His hand gripped your waist tightly, pulling you against him as the kiss deepened.

He lifted one of your legs up to the sides of his hip as he pushed you up against the bedroom door, cushioning the impact with his palm on the back of your head. The heat between your legs was growing and rubbing against his crotch was making it worse.

Your hands were exploring his chest, his shoulders, his face and his hair. You finally gasped for air, tilting your head up which invited him to kiss down your chin to your neck.

“I hate you, I fucking hate you.” I whispered out, shaking your head. Baffled at how good of a kisser he was, but with how he was spending his weekends, it wasn’t exactly a mystery.

He bent down to hoist you up by your thighs, effortlessly wrapping them around his waist. With one of your arms snaked around his neck for support, the other reached behind to open the door.

“Hate me later.” He muttered, kissing you again as he carried you into your dark bedroom.

He laid you down, sandwiching you between his chest and your mattress. You could feel him getting hard through the tin fabric of his Adidas shorts.

He smelled so fucking good. His natural scent mixed with a hint of the cologne you got for him for his birthday made your imagination go wild. Your hands reached the hem of his shirt like an animal instinct, tempted to rip it off him if he didn’t take it off in the next few seconds.

He pulled up and tugged his shirt over his head when he noticed your neediness. In the faint light of the opened door behind him, you could see the outline of his toned body.

Soft streetlights from outside the window above the bed frame gently illuminated his face that looked down at you like you were a full course meal and he was starving.

You have found Mingi handsome since the first day you met. Hell, even he knew he was handsome but something about how he looked at that moment sent chills all throughout your body.

When he leaned back down over you, you couldn’t resist reaching out to his face to caress his cheek, your thumb brushing back and forth near the beauty mark on his face.

He took your hand gently, kissing the back of it. Guiding your hand to his chest, he let you trace your fingertips down his body.

You almost forgot why you were angry.

“Do you want to do this?” He asked, still sounding a little breathless from the escalation.

You looked up from your hand on his lower abdomen, “If you leave now I might actually kill you.”

almost.

He took in bottom lip with his teeth to hide an excited smile, before leaning down to capture your lips in another kiss. This time, he moved slower, savouring whatever was left of that cherry lip balm you had on. “I wasn’t planning to.”

You smiled into the next kiss. Typically you’re not supposed to enjoy having the tongue of the person you were just screaming at in your mouth, but you wanted it there for as long as possible. In fact, you wanted that tongue everywhere on you.

Mingi on the other hand was trying really hard to focus but he could literally feel your nipples through the t-shirt you still had on.

Why the fuck was it even still on, he had no idea.

He was now thinking about how you did not have a bra on the entire time he was hanging out at your house, wondering how often it had been happening without him realising.

You grabbed onto the sides of his hips, and groaned in his mouth. He flipped over, positioning you so you were centred on his hard cock. You readjusted your legs to straddle him comfortably, your arms crossing behind his neck for support as he was sitting up.

His hands found their way to your ass, squeezing it in encouragement as you started bucking your hips against him. Your nails scratching up his shoulders as you started to wonder if the rumours about his dick size were true — all while the friction was driving him insane with arousal.

He helped you take your baggy t-shirt over your head. Delighted that you weren’t wearing a bra, he even fixed your hair once it was off, carefully flipping it behind your shoulders. He slid a hand to the small of your bare back, stealing a quick glance at your face.

You were the prettiest girl he knew. He had told you that a few times, but stopped once he realised you were never going to believe him. He’d be lying if he said he was never attracted to you, he just could never find the courage to cross that line. He was afraid of losing you more than anyone else he’d ever met.

“What?” You simply asked.

Doe eyed, topless, in his arms. Mingi could’ve sworn he had a wet dream about this once. His eyes dipped to your chest without saying a word, and he buried his face there. You rolled your eyes, but inside you were screaming with joy.

He caught your left nipple between his swollen lips while he massaged the other in his free hand. You squirmed when you felt him nibble, and twist you like a personal bop it. You even felt the fucker smirk against your skin at your reaction.

Your hand moved to roughly grip on the hair on the back of his head and your back arched towards him, feeling his tongue licking on your chest in a circular motion.

His eyes looked up at you, as he sucked on your breasts sloppily and kneading them with his hand, admiring his view and the feeling it came with.

You felt the tip of his nose brush up across your collarbone to return to your neck. You were getting so wet, it’s a miracle you managed to restrain yourself from taking those eager hands of his and shoving them in your shorts.

“I-I’m still mad…a-at you.” You managed to choke out, shuddering from the tingling feeling of him sucking on a sweet spot you didn’t know you had.

“I know.” He groaned.

Your hand reached down to the rock solid boner you had been grinding up against. He took a sharp hiss of breath at your touch.

He flipped you over again before you could’ve tried to slip off his pants. He guided you a little higher on the bed and then sat up to pull your shorts and your underwear down in one firm swift motion.

With his hands gently on your knees, he parted your legs. “Fuck…” He whispered.

As you lay on the bed, propped up on your elbows, you were a little embarrassed that he was seeing that part of you at first, but the way his eyes looked into yours and raked down your body made you grow a little more confident in your skin.

“Are you gonna just stare?” You nodded your head at him.

“I’m taking my time because you have no idea how often I’ve thought of doing this to you.”

“Slut.”

Mingi cracked into a grin, his tongue cheekily running across his top teeth as he shook his head and took your leg over his shoulder. He pushed your other knee further out when he started to lean down, coming closer to your dripping cunt.

Took his time, he did.

He cherished every kiss, and the way his nose slid up and down against you made your breathing shaky. Your hands fondled your own tits that were still a little damp from his licks from earlier.

When he started basically making out with your clit, your head threw back and you couldn’t hold back your breathy moans. Your hips started to rock into his tongue.

“Who’s the slut now?” You heard him coo from under you. He watched you with fox-like eyes, keeping a vigilant gaze while you stimulated yourself and something about it made it ten times hotter.

“S-still you—Ah, Mingi!” Your head dropped onto the bed.

Your clit was swollen, and his fingers invited themselves between your folds before entering. There’s no way you could’ve held in that loud moan, or mask the look of absolute pure pleasure that contorted your face.

Something about how you were unravelling at the curl of his finger inside you, with your heel dug in lot his back and the sound of you moaning his name over and over had him excited for what’s to come.

Figuratively and literally.

Mingi’s dick had never been harder.

You reached for his hand that was gripping on your thigh to keep your legs parted. Your mouth dropped open as your eyes squeezed shut to feel the electrifying sensation throughout your entire body. His fingers and the upper inner part of your thighs were coated in your release.

Holy shit, Mingi actually made you cum. And he sucked and licked every last of it as you were riding it out.

He sucked on your clit one last time, giving a quick kiss goodbye before crawling up your body to meet your face.

His hand was beside your face as he tilted his head to the side. Mingi hovered over you and though you felt a bit dizzy, you managed to mirror the grin on his face.

“Are you still mad at me?”

“Furious.”

“Don’t lie to me.”

As you sat up slowly, he started to retreat to reel you in with your faces mere inches apart. Placing a hand on his chest, you pushed him down to get onto his back.

Who knows when’s the next time you would ever to be able to do this? In the back of your head, you knew this was a heat of a moment kind of thing, eventhough it made you a little sad, you wanted to kiss him again and again.

And he was more than willing to entertain it.

You could taste yourself off his lips. The dirtiness of it all made it hotter. His nails running up and down the side of your thigh as your chest pressed against his.

You moved down, planting little kisses down his gorgeous physique, you hands gripping on his sides as he watched. His hand reached out stroking the top of your head.

This had to be a dream.

You looked up when you reached the drawstring of the shorts he had on.

“Okay, okay, just be gentle,” He asked softly. “I’m a little… uh…”

With your teeth, you undid the little bow and tug his shorts down. Rumour confirmed: he was huge. Girthy, long, with cum already dripping down its sides from tip.

You thought you were seeing things wrongly so your hand reached out to hold it by the base and stroked up.

“Needy?” You teased.

Mingi’s brain electrocuted for a second, unsure if it was the tone or your hands. He flinched, “S-shit, baby, I’m really… hold on—“

You leaned forward, wrapping your hand comfortably around the base as you started to return the treatment he just gave you — tenfold. Mingi’s flustered face transformed into a look of pure satisfaction.

The way you licked, kissed, and sucked all over his shaft, he’d float if he could. The lewd noises you were making made him hiss, bitting in his lower lip as he watched from above.

“S-shit you’re doing so good.” He managed to say, leaning over to comb back your hair in his hands as you steadied your pace.

When his tip scratched the back of your throat, he was done for. You almost ended up choking on the cum that bursted out of his wet hard cock that pooled warm in your mouth, and swallowed.

The noise he made was unlike anything you’d ever heard in your decade long friendship, and it was the best he’d ever felt out of all his past experiences.

But that wasn’t why he had to take a breather. He realised how wrong he’d been doing you. Knowing how you felt about him, and how he’s been treating you made him wonder if he even deserved to see you this way.

He moved in behind you, gently guiding your face toward his for a soft, sweet kiss that made you smile. He trailed playful kisses along the side of your face as your hand caressed his. His large hands traced lightly over your waist.

If foreplay was this good already, he could only imagine how mind boggling actually fucking you would be. But he seemed to enjoy finally being able to shamelessly kiss you and touch you wherever he wanted more though.

You, however, had a different thought. The lines of your friendship were already blurred. Being with him like this had been a fantasy, but now you were stepping into uncharted territory, where everything about your relationship with him might change — if it hadn’t already.

That’s when reality hit, your smile fading. You needed a moment to pull back.

He started slowing down when he noticed you or your body weren’t really responding to him anymore.

It hit you like a cold splash of reality—his stories of conquests, the way he casually shared tales of his past flings, and how effortlessly he moved on from each one.

“Hey, look at me. What’s wrong?”

In that moment, you realized you were just another number on his hit list, a fleeting moment in his game, and the weight of that truth settled heavily in your chest, leaving you feeling small and insignificant.

Even with his own doubts, Mingi was still ready to take things further right then and there, but seeing that look — the one you make when you have a lot on your mind — he couldn’t bring himself to continue.

His hand reached out, caressing the other side of your face, tucking your hair behind your ear in comfort, “We don’t have to, you know.”

You nodded, “I know. I’m sorry, I just… I’m thinking a lot right now.”

“Hey, it’s okay.” He smiled at you, shaking his head in reassurance before closing in to kiss the side of your head.

He shifted on the bed, pulling you into an embrace and brought you close to him under the sheets.

You’ve shared this bed several times over the years, but never this intimately, without a pillow barrier or clothes on. This easily felt very new to both of you, yet still comfortable enough.

As you cuddled facing eachother, you turned to the ceiling as your thoughts began to swirl. You had settled the argument from earlier with your bodies, but the confusion in your heart still remained.

“Are you okay?” Mingi finally asked, concern in his eyes as you took your time to answer.

“Yeah, just…” The room felt colder, smaller, and you could feel tears pricking at your eyes as you turned to look at him. “I don’t want to be like the others. I don’t want us to end up being… nothing.”

“You’re not like the others,” Mingi said softly, turning to face you, his eyes searching yours. “I’m serious. I’m sorry for the stupid things I said. You are… you’re everything to me. You’re it, and—”

You’d heard it all before. You knew his usual pretty words for his pretty girls thanks to his stories but what you didn’t know was how he actually meant what he said this time.

“Look, Mingi…I just can’t do the whole friends-with-benefits thing. I can’t just stay friends after this. I need you all in if you’re going to be in my life.” Your voice trembled, and each word felt like a struggle. This boy had a grip on your heart that made the thought of losing him hurt. “If you can’t do that, you really need to go tomorrow morning, okay?”

He took a moment to let your words sink in, the silence stretching between you. Then, quietly, he leaned in and kissed you—a soft, gentle kiss. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close. The warmth of his skin soothed you in the cool air as he pressed a light kiss to your forehead.

#ateez smut #ateez #reader x mingi #song mingi #ateez fanfic #ateez fic #atz x reader #atz smut #atz fanfic #atiny #one shot

175 notes · View notes

peachhcs · 7 months ago

Note

samy was definitely excited and happy for will for the win but sad because her umich boys lost but she can’t wait to watch bc in the championship

one down, one to go

hughes!sister x will smith au (samy + will blurb)

samy's two favorite teams are playing against one another with her favorite boys has her feeling a bit unsure because she knows one will lose and one will come out victorious.

1.2k words

guys i know bc just lost the championship, but let's not talk about that rn! instead, here's a blurb requested by multiple people about the semi finals win! i didn't get a chance to write this when they actually won a few days ago, so let's just use this to cheer us up about bc's loss :(

au masterlist

samy didn’t know how to feel seeing her michigan boys crumple to the ice while her boyfriend celebrated in victory with his teammates. the final buzzer left umich with nothing on the scoreboard and boston with an overwhelming four points. the girl’s gaze flicked between ethan and mark in an emotional hug and the freshman trio screaming up at the boston fans who celebrated their victory with them.

she saw will skate her way, so she hopped towards the glass separating her from the ice. the boy’s large smile was quite infectious as he pulled his helmet up revealing extremely sweaty hair. the girl returned his smile—seeing him so, so happy filled the same emotions into her own system despite feeling bad for her michigan brothers.

“we won!!” will yelled.

“i'm so proud of you. congratulations!” samy yelled back. a giggle escaped her lips when the boy tossed over a puck—something he always did for her whenever they won a game.

“meet me outside of the locker room in like thirty minutes?” the boy wondered and she quickly nodded. will blew her a kiss before skating back to his boys so they could head into the locker room.

the smile never left samy’s lips watching her friends happily make their way down the tunnel, yet it faded when she finally caught gazes with ethan and mark. the two older boys managed weak smiles in her direction as they passed by her section.

it was so hard having her two favorite teams play one another in the semi finals because she knew one of them would move on and the other would have to go home. it was even worse when a lot of the michigan boys were leaving for their nhl contracts and wouldn’t be ever playing at michigan ever again.

samy followed will’s parents into the main lobby where nearly every family waited for their kid to emerge, some ecstatic while others stood near the back with solemn expressions. the youngest hughes went to her phone, texting her parents and brothers updates about the game.

“jeez, i feel like i don’t know if i should be sad or happy,” hannah found the brunette in the crowd. the two girls shared gentle smiles as the both had similar mixed feelings about the end of the semi finals.

“i know. duker’s last game, right?” samy wondered and hannah nodded.

“it’s so, so sad, but i’m also really happy for will and them.”

“tell me about it. second year in a row michigan got out in the semi finals,” samy thought back to last year’s game and how incredibly emotional everything was because luke got on a plane to new jersey immediately after without much warning.

“yeah, that was luke’s last game last year. god, i remember that,” hannah frowned a bit.

some of the michigan guys emerged from the locker room. the expressions on each of their faces were so heartbreaking and ones samy knew all too well. her and her team were destroyed after losing the ncaa finals back in december.

ethan and mark came out after one another. the brunette watched as they hugged their parents close by before finding her gaze again. all three of their faces held soft expressions as samy went to them. ethan collected her first in a tight hug.

“thanks for coming, squirt.”

“i’m sorry you lost. it was a hard game. you guys played well,” samy looked between him and mark. the two older guys nodded.

“get ‘em next year, right?” mark laughed sadly as he collected luke’s baby sister into a hug too.

“right. one more year, yeah?” she knew mark and ethan were staying on one more year to finish out college, but that seemed so much closer now that the season was over.

what would she do without them for her last two years of college?

in the mist of their hugging, the bc boys came out of the locker room in hollers. their parents greeted them in the same manner. samy glanced at the two older boys—the look in her eyes asking if it was okay if she went over.

“go, he’s probably looking for you,” ethan snickered, earning a playful eye roll from the girl.

“you sure?” she wanted to make sure they’d be okay.

“positive. we’ll be fine. go celebrate with your boyfriend,” mark grinned.

she finally took their word for it and broke away from them. it didn’t help that she wasn’t that tall to see through the large crowds. a lot of parents pushed themselves closer together as their kids came out leaving the paths to get through narrower and narrower.

“samy!” will’s voice echoed through the commotion of everyone else.

she finally saw his tall figure that was no longer in his uniform but a loosely put on suit. as soon as the crowd broke, she jumped into his arms. he swung her around, loud laughter falling from their lips in joy.

“i'm so proud of you, will. you guys played so well,” the girl gushed.

“couldn’t have done it without you. you’re my good luck charm,” the blonde littered a hundred kisses onto her cheek as he couldn’t contain his excitement nor the adrenaline rushing through him.

he’d be riding this high the entire night.

samy blushed deeply at his words and in response, will pushed his lips onto hers. he didn’t care that there were families all around them and everyone was watching. he didn’t care about the looks from others around them. all the hockey player cared about was winning the semi finals with his girl at his side.

will pushed his tongue into her mouth, lips molding into samy’s like they were made for each other. his grip was nearly bruising, but the adrenaline in both of their systems was enough to make it invisible.

loud whistles finally pulled them apart where ryan and gabe watched their friends a few feet away. even mark and ethan who caught a glimpse of the action let out their own hoots for the couple. a deep blush spread across samy and will’s cheeks.

“i would tease you guys, but since we just won, i’ll let it go for now,” ryan grinned.

“congratulations, guys. you guys played so well,” samy pulled the two boys into a hug.

“thanks for skipping class to be here,” gabe smiled.

“of course, i wouldn’t ever miss this,” she rubbed each of their arms before letting them be whisked away by their parents again.

will’s arm snaked back around her waist, putting her attention back on him, “thanks again for being here. i’m sorry about michigan.”

samy’s eyes drifted towards ethan, mark, moldy, seamus, nazar, and moldy all lost in the crowds with their parents. it brought back memories of last year again with luke losing his last ever game with his college team. athough, this year, those sad memories were slowly being replaced with happy ones as their kiss from a few minutes ago replayed over in the brunette's head.

getting to share the celebration felt like such a privilege.

“they’ll be okay. i can’t wait to watch you play in the finals,” samy grinned back up at her boyfriend whose eyes never left hers. his lips curled upwards, another smile dancing across his features.

the hockey player planted a tender kiss to her lips, more loving and slower as he finally slowed down to take everything in. the adrenaline in will’s veins fizzled as samy's lips intertwined with his. her fingers slotted themselves against cheek making the boy grow dizzy with lust.

"i love you, sweet girl," will mumbled into the kiss.

he felt the smile on samy's lips grow larger hearing his words, "i love you more, will. thanks for letting me share this moment with you."

the young couple shared warm smiles with one another, finally pulling apart for now knowing they'd have a lot more time back at the hotel.

#hughes!sister x will smith au #will smith hockey #samy x will #boston college #boston college hockey #samy hughes #umich hockey #will smith imagine #will smith x oc #uofmichigan #bc hockey #ryan leonard #gabe perreault #will smith hockey fluff

90 notes · View notes

geronimomo-spd · 1 year ago

Text

here is a list of what was in this show, and in what ways they updated/changed the pieces of music they played, and what they never played before. with a dash of commentery:

i am the doctor is the first track, neat, they did the Proms version, which combines the Pandorica speach theme right at the end

all the strange strange creatures, which yeah another Proms staple, it had a few touches of fresh violins in the end we did not hear before

they did a suite for the entire classic who themes they did play that night, apperently the two people behaind the rediophonic workshop were there to play it as well! that's neat, the 60s cyberman theme, (i love it dearly, got obsessed with it pretey recently lol), they also did some stuff that i would not know to recognize if there is anything new about them: the sea devils theme, the city of death, and the 5 doctors! the same classic who themes they played i the proms 2013, either way they sound very nice, the orchestra really nicely blends in with the syntonizer and it feels like a loving hug.

oooh and they have a mini interview with mark and peter from the radiophonic workshop!

Abigail's Song (Silence Is All You Know) is very neat as well, no changes but its very nice. and they dedicated the piece to Michael Gambon, that's sweet

omg Steven Moffet hello, i did not remember seeing him on the cast list. they are using the season 4 intro as like an in between piece to welcome guests on stage by the way, his interview in nice but short, mostly talking in short about his time as a show runner and the diffrence between Matt and Peter.

sylvester mcCoy is here in the audiance apperently!

This is Galiffray is next, pretty standard but again beutifully played

the long song is next, no child singer, the same singer as Abagail's song as well, but gosh!! they included in it the part of the theme of this song that played when 11 regenerated?? and the new singing then payerd over it. it is the same theme part that played when the actual speech of the long song played, in front of the living planet, but without the speech itself it really takes you back to his regeneration in my option, they then layerd the singing part over it in a very nice harmony that made me tear up 😭 . once again just like they did in the proms 2013, but this version feels very updated

the companions suite, they went Rose - Amy, which sad no clara, bill or any other companion, but its nice to hear those themes again, also Martha's theme got a little bit more Wind Instruments and violins then usual! which extended it a little and that was very nice. it also felt like Donna's theme was a little bit quieter then usual, they also combined Amy's theme little starting notes to fuze organicly into the theme itself, the xylophone very imbeded into the theme instead of it standing out like in earlier performances. and gave it a little bit of extra notes right at the end.

Emily Cook interview! she apperently played in the orcestra in the show as well with the saxophone. and talking about the doctor who lockdown project! (i cannot believe i never knew about this thing's existance??? holy shit,)

Doomsday, had a fancy and really funky gaiter solo, much similer to when it was preformed at the proms in 2008, but this time its very distinctive, not playing along singing at all, just pure gaiter goodness, really enjoyable

Vale Decem was really funky! nothing new but as bombastic as ever, screaming its way to your ears

Am i a good man!! very nice to see a Peter theme finally making its way to the fold, though a lot of them were preformed at Doctor Who Symphonic Spectacular 2015, it was a much smaller scale as to the proms and this show is definitly bigger, god i used to be so obsessed with this themeee its not even funny, the version is very similer to there and you can reallly feel the drums punping at the start and its really energetic

omg twice upon a time?? damm, actual music released from something past season 9??? insane about this actually, oh i have never heard this before, its so gentle and remenicit of am i a good man in such a beautiful way, giving them theme a call back with emotinal and more action based end, it also adds the known and notable singer and some stuff from rtd era doctor theme?? and some funky violins from i am the doctor?? all leading to a fine finish?? i am in shock and aw. its like a finishing theme from Marry Gold to his era of the show. damm (if you are worried about The Shepherd's Boy, that will come later!)

a chris chibnall and Segun Akinola interview! Chris talking about the scrutiny he got for his era, and excitment about the whole thing, and Segun Akinola talking about the stress of the job and the freedom he got. THEY ARE ALL SO EXCITED FOR THE FACT THAT HIS THEMES FOR DOCTOR WHO ARE FOR THE FIRST TIME BEING PREFORMED AND I AM SO EXCITED ABOUT IT AS WELL HOLY SHIT

FINALLY the woman who fell to earth suite! confirmed to have: the woman who fell to earth, spyfall, power of the doctor, and a few suprises?? 👀 god i am once again becoming emotinal, i love 13's theme so much. the spyfall theme is so recognizable for its bond influence and so fun!! 13 era loves will know a lot more then me on the rest of it but god its so fun. DEMONS OF THE PUNJAB!! TRADITINAL INDIAN MUSIC WITH A FANTASTIC SINGER, god i wish we could watch this visualy. 13s regeneration theme is so GOOD IM CRYING, what can i even say, they didn't have the libraty of changes as this was the first and might be the only preformance of these themes, as little changes as possible for what i've noticed, but still, what a rollercoster of emotions

The Life of Sunday (Ruby's Theme) ...oh? piano? a lone and qiuet piano? a quiet and sad sounding theme? oh it expands! omg the slowely building violins?? the violins are truly the stars of this evening, and then the hopeful theme ends and now the violins are not celebrating the piano, they are moving towards a sad but nice main part. oh we are jumping forwad a little! oh wow, this is truly like a valce. the piano is the star but to what end? its slightly hopeful but very mournful existance

a lot of the versions had a little bit of a rytham change in most of the peices, little bits where you would think "oh is it out of rythem?" but no, its just a slight change in tempo, i guess to make the versions played here to stand out a little.

Marry Gold interview! hello! omg its so weird to hear his voice again. talking about his new era and coming back to who.

Fifteen, WHAT THE HELL THIS IS STARTING LIKE A SUPERHERO THEME?? oooh we are leading to an action based middle, the bassons are controling the theme! the trumpets!! its bloody danceable!! i am stimming all over the room! its fucking danceable!! it feels very action based very much like i am the doctor, a lot of rising violins, usually singeling hope, this feels like... such a fresh and new doctor. but it doesn;t sound... excited, it feels like a man on the run, it has a very clear dessperation going in, and i am neglecting to find any quiet moment if and they exist at all. the rising of the hope comes very sparadicly, much like Ruby's . it feels like they are contredicting each other simply by nature, but both of them are constantly searching for hope and i guess happines? accept he feels like he is searching for... quiet, peace, DAMM i gotta relisten to this to get more understanding of it

russel t interview! ok talking about his his history with who and coming back, mostly about appreciating the music in the show overoll

The Shepherd's Boy!!! FIRST TIME PREFORMING. god i am emotional once again, you can clearly hear the diffrent instruments individually at the start, the violins are lovely the chelos and everything else is really beautifully building up itself, the drums. the choir! all rising! they added the chior to the part right before the end!! added chior overoll andmakin it much more stand out as opposed to the soundtrack version. the drums were eceptinal!! in all of peter's era music. god its great

Doctor Who Theme (2023 version), lets go! the pianos! the quiet violins!! people have pointed out its similer to the movie middle eight and that's very true, the piano is truly the star of this theme and it shows!(edited) i am buzzing this was as great and better then i expected

92 notes · View notes

kimpossibly · 2 years ago

Text

𝐁𝐄𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐄𝐍𝐈𝐃 𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐈𝐑'𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐑𝐌𝐈𝐄 𝐒/𝐎

REQUEST: Hi! I really love your works, if its alright with you, can I please request Enid Sinclair with a human/normie s/o who she loves very much but her s/o is being stalked by their crazy ex-girlfriend who wants them back and also happens to be a werewolf. — anon

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Hiiiiii!! Thank you so so much for the ask, this is adorable! I didn't know if you wanted a fic or headcanons, so I kind of mashed them up and did both!! I hope you enjoy this and let me know if you'd like it in a different format! NOTE: E/n = ex's name

PAIRING: enid sinclair x gn!reader WARNINGS: crazy ex-girlfriends, fighting, stalking

Needless to say, it's a pretty big deal when someone at Nevermore gets involved with a Normie.

Some might even say it's taboo, but everyone knows that the Normie gets the short end of the stick nine times out of ten.

So when another werewolf and you start dating, our lovely Queen of Gossip Enid knows from the very beginning

She's super into the relationship despite never having met you — she'll always ask for updates or to see photos of the two of you

But she can't deny the blushy, crushy feeling she gets whenever she sees you

Of course, she covers it up with things like "Oh my God, they're gorgeous!" or "You guys look so cute together!", but it doesn't do much to stave off the way her heart speeds up every time she sees you in photos

Enid figures out pretty quickly that she possibly maybe sort of has the sliiiiiightest crush on you. But you were dating her friend, and that meant you were off-limits.

So Enid did what she could to stave off all those giggly, fuzzy feelings she gets whenever she thinks about you

It didn't really work that well but whatever

Enid was so busy trying to stamp down her feelings that she completely missed your relationship turning sour

That's why it came as such a surprise to her when you broke up with her friend out of the blue

Enid put everything she had into being there for her friend — giving her tissues when she cried, planning fun movie nights to take her mind off of you

And all good feelings she had towards you dissolved the moment you made her friend cry

So when she saw you at the Weathervane one day while she was out in Jericho, she was ready to give you a piece of her mind

As she walked towards you, she wrote an entire monologue in her head, ready to spit fire, but then she heard a sob.

Enid's prepared speech melted away the moment she heard a stifled sniff. Even though she could only see the back of you head, she could tell that your body was wracked with sobs. She blanched. She couldn't yell at someone who was already crying! The vision of E/n crying tried to push its way to the forefront of her mind, screaming "Hey, I'm here! Remember me?" But you were right there. So close and so broken. In that moment she resolved to swallow any venom she was prepared to spit at you. After taking a deep breath, she stepped up until she was beside you in the booth.

"Y/n?" she said, trying to keep her voice calm and gentle.

You looked up, your face red and puffy, confusion taking the place of sadness for a moment. "Sorry, do I know you?" you asked. Enid was taken aback by how polite you sounded. From the way E/n had told it, she expected you to sound much more harsh.

"I'm Enid Sinclair. I'm friends with E/n." she introduced.

That only seemed to make you feel worse. "Oh," was all you said, eyes shifting away from her and into space.

Enid hurried to lighten things up. "Can I sit?"

You said nothing but nodded, prompting her to slide into the booth across from you. She tapped her nails on the table a couple times, trying to figure out just where to go from here. "I go to Nevermore, by the way." was all she came up with.

"I know," you replied. "You followed me on Instagram a few weeks ago."

"Oh, yeah! I saw your post from the bowling alley a couple weeks ago, I really liked how you did your hair—"

"I'm sorry, Enid, I'm just a little confused." you gently interrupted her. "Why are you sitting with me? I should think that you'd be angry with me for breaking up with your friend."

Enid paused. She chose her next words carefully, not wanting to scare you away with the truth. "I was. But then I heard you crying and I figured you didn't need a virtual stranger getting mad at you. I wanted to make sure you were okay."

Now that you weren't expecting. More tears rushed to your eyes as she spoke. "You...just want to know if I'm okay?" you asked, relieved.

And Enid just nodded. So you told her everything.

For the first time, Enid gets the whole story of your relationship, start to finish. From the time you met at a party in Jericho to the night you broke up, she hears about every date, every fight, every detail you had to offer.

And it's way different than what she had heard from E/n.

While E/n claimed that you had broken up with them out of the blue, you told her that you had broken up because she had been showing up at your house, at your school, at your work out of the blue with no warning.

She even began to show up at places you hadn't told her you were going to be, like the time you decided to head to the Weathervane for a quick coffee and found that E/n had showed up just moments before you, hoping to catch up.

Eventually it started to creep you out a little too much and you decided to break things off

Things started to make sense for Enid, and the picture became a little clearer.

And after you told the whole story, Enid sensed that you needed a quick pick-me-up, so she invited you shopping with her

And shopping with Enid is...an experience

She turns into a personal stylist for you, pulling out thing after thing that she thinks you would look good in — and she always has a reason

"Ooooh, look at this! Emerald green would bring out your eyes."

"This shade of blue will compliment your skin tone so well, just trust me."

She gets you giggling and smiling and it makes her feel like she's on top of the world

You make plans that day to do this again, much to Enid's excitement

You exchange numbers and head your opposite ways

Enid goes back to Nevermore feeling like she's on Cloud 9...at least until she runs into your ex.

"Where have you been?"

Enid freezes when a voice speaks from behind her. Oh no. She turns slowly on her heel, giving E/n an overzealous smile. "Oh, hey, E/n! I was, um, just out at the Weathervane for a coffee. I would've brought you something back, but I didn't know what you liked."

E/n seems to take the lie as she shrugs. "Oh, fun. Hey, you still down for dinner in the courtyard?"

An invisible tension releases from Enid's shoulders. "Yeah, definitely." she says, giving E/n a smile.

She smiles back. "Cool. See ya later!"

E/n walks away as Enid mumbles a freaked-out "See ya," before turning and racing back to her dorm.

It's then that she decides to keep your meetings a secret.

She doesn't want to hurt E/n's feelings, and she definitely doesn't want to make things worse for you, so the only reasonable option was to lie, right?

RIGHT?????????

This is the kind of stuff that eats Enid up — the moral gray area of Is this right or is it wrong?

It's the kind of stuff that leaves her lying awake at night, staring at the ceiling and trying to figure out what to do next.

And every time she draws a blank

This whole thing haunts her right up until the day you agreed to meet up again.

You find her in a booth at the Weathervane that Saturday — she already ordered your drink, which she remember from looking at the cup you had the day you met (that's the kind of stuff that she remembers and never forgets)

This time you show her all your favorite things in Jericho — your favorite park, your house, your favorite landmarks

And when it's over and she needs to get back to Nevermore, you make plans to hang out again

Then that hang out comes and passes, and you decide to hang out again. And again. And again.

And suddenly Enid starts to wonder if this is more than just "hanging out."

"Hey, Y/n? Can I ask you a question?" she says out of the blue one day while you're walking around a park.

"Shoot."

"Say there are two friends, and they hang out all the time. I mean, all the time. And one of them kinda likes the other, but they don't know if the other likes them back, but they don't know how to ask...what should they do?" Enid says, her chest seizing with panic.

You pause, brows knit. "Hm." you say, frowning at nothing. "I dunno. Tell them, I guess. I think being straightforward is the best thing you can do in that situation."

Enid nods and you two continue to walk in silence. After a moment, you go to speak, "Hey, did I ever show you—"

"I like you!" Enid blurts out, cutting you off. You stop, but she keeps going. "I was talking about me when I asked that question. I really like you, Y/n, and sometimes I think you might like me too, but I never really know these things for sure, so I just sit and think about it a lot but then I wonder if I'm reading too much into things that that's never good, but then you said to be straightforward about it and—"

"Enid!" you shout, trying to make sure she can take a breath. She stops, looking back at you with terrified eyes. And, to her surprise, you smile. "I like you too."

She falters. "Y-You do?" she stutters in disbelief.

"I do," you confirm.

She doesn't know what to say. She didn't plan this far. "Okay!" she says. "Okay! So. Um. How do we—do you want to—or like, we don't have to, but—"

"Would you like to go on a date with me?" you ask.

And she just smiles. "Yes, I would. When?"

"Hm, how about..." you trail off, looking around. "Now?"

"Now?"

"Mhm."

Enid looks back at you in shock. "So this...this is a date now?"

"Only if you want it to be." you laugh.

She smiles even wider. "Yeah. Yes. I want it to be."

"Well then, come on," you say, beckoning her to keep walking with you. "I think there's a creek in the woods I forgot to show ya."

And, beaming like the sun, Enid follows.

Enid is just about the most thoughtful girlfriend ever

She remembers your birthday, your mom's birthday, your sibling's birthday, your pet's birthday, your anniversary, and any special date you mention. Ever.

She'll show up to a date with flowers and a little gift for some occasion you hadn't even known was happening.

"Happy two and a half week anniversary!" "Oh! I didn't know we were celebrating." "That's okay! I just like visiting the flower shop down the street."

She's also suuuuuper cuddly and will hold onto you wherever you go

She knits you gloves and sweaters and scarves and snoods and anything you request

And while she can't invite you to any dance seeing as you're keeping your relationship a secret from E/n, she'll host makeshift dances in which she'll force you out of your room for a couple minutes while she decorates it with streamers and a disco ball and hauls in a speaker

Then, she'll pull you onto the 'dance floor' (your bedroom floor) and dance with you until you're both on the verge of collapse

For a couple months, everything is perfect. You're perfect, and Enid spends almost every second in awe of you.

But, of course, the past always comes back to haunt us

Enid notices one day that you've been growing slightly distant. You would space out in conversation and never respond with more than a couple words. She would've been hurt if she hadn't been worried about you.

She never pried other than the occasional "You sure you're okay?", which you'd brush off anyway.

But everything comes to a head the night you have a panic attack while you're hanging out with Enid in your room and she pulls you into her arms as you sob. At that point, you couldn't hide what was going on.

"Enid, I...I don't feel safe anymore." you told her one night. E/n was showing up everywhere you went, even more now than she had before. She would ambush you on your way to school, begging you to take her back despite your intentions otherwise. She seemed to always be one step ahead, and you were beginning to panic.

And as Enid sat there, holding you tightly and running gentle fingers through your hair, she made up her mind: "I'm going to make this stop."

You looked up at her, eyes wide. "What are you going to do?"

"I don't know yet, but I can promise you that E/n is never going to bother you again."

"Enid, stop." you say, pulling way and sitting up. "You don't have to get in the middle of this. I never wanted you to get involved and I don't want you to get hurt because of me." you say as more tears begin to stream down your face.

"Hey, look at me," Enid says, taking your face gently in her hands. "I just want you to feel safe. I'm not going to do anything bad, I'm just going to talk to her and try to figure things out, but I won't bring you into it. I promise. I'm going to fix this, okay?"

And, reluctantly, you nod. Enid smiles, kissing the top of your head and pulling you in for a long hug. As she held you, she used her finger to lightly trace something on your back: I LOVE YOU. She did that quite a lot, mostly because she was afraid to say it aloud. But it was true, she loved you. And she'd go to war for you if that was what it took.

You'll never forget the day Enid walked up to you at your usual booth at the Weathervane with a smile on her face as she sat opposite you

"E/n won't be bothering you any more." she said simply, taking a sip of the coffee you had ordered her.

You just frowned in confusion. "Enid, what did you do?"

"Don't worry about it." she said nonchalantly.

After a few more attempts to get her to spill what she had done, you realized she wasn't going to give up. So you settled on a smile as you watched Enid innocently sip her coffee.

"Hey, Enid?" you said, smiling at her. "I love you, too."

And right then, all Enid knew how to do was smile.

#wednesday #wednesday netflix #wednesday 2022 #enid sinclair #enid sinclair x reader #enid sinclair headcanons #enid sinclair fic #enid sinclair fluff

303 notes · View notes

pan-imagines-ig · 1 year ago

Text

Don’t Mess With Pan’s Lost Girl p10

Warning: mention of murder? 😂

Word count: 1242

AN: genuinely didn’t think I’d ever be back

——-

Felix tightens his arms around me, squeezing.

I’m screaming, can barely catch my breath, the sobs are covered by the celebratory shouts and singing of Pan’s return. The lost boys don’t care about the childish drama. They don’t care about the very real feelings I’m feeling, neither does Pan, if anything this is all very entertaining for them. They’re just happy to have their precious leader back.

I stopped crying five minutes ago, after about an hour of nonstop tears. My throat is raw and my eyes are stinging. I feel Felix’s lips against the top of my head, leaving gentle kisses, just a sweet gesture and nothing more. Comforting. He’s rocking us slowly, still on the floor, and I feel absolutely drained.

“Water.” My voice not even a whisper.

“Let me get you to bed first” he stands slowly and pulls me up while supporting my arms.

I shuffle to the bed, his arms on either side of me as if waiting for me to collapse again. I gently wave him off as I curl on top of the covers. He folds the other side over me and leave one final, sweet, kiss on my nose before leaving the tent. When he opens the flaps the bright fire light shows shadows of dancing boys. And for a moment, just a fraction of a second, I see Pan in the middle with Wendy. His hands were reaching up to cup her face. The flaps closed before I saw them make contact.

I don’t have enough energy to cry anymore. So I just lay there, numb, waiting for Felix to return.

“I brought you some food too” he returns with a small plate with just a couple things to pick at; some bread, cheese, blueberries, and a cup of water.

I sit up and take the cup so he lays the plate on my lap. I don’t look at it and take slow thoughtless sips of the water.

“Better?” I look up at him and his face softens. He can see that I’ve drained myself of all emotion. “I can kill him for you, we can do it together, if you want” he snickers.

I don’t respond. Just quietly turn my head back towards the boy I once loved. I can see him, the tent is closed, but I can still see him in my mind. It’s racing with the image of his hands on her face, pulling her in, kissing her. I didn’t see it happen but I know it did and the thought is very vivid, projected on the door of the tent.

“Lay with me” my voice is somewhat better now. I put the cup and plate on the floor and get properly under the covers as Felix joins me.

We lay quietly for a while and I can feel my sadness turning to painful anger. My thoughts are racing and my heart pounding.

“Let’s kill her”

——

When I wake up I almost knock over the water and, instead, step on the plate of smelly cheese and smooshy berries. Felix walks in at that moment and lets out a small laugh. I look at him, irritated, as I wipe my foot on my pant leg. I reach for my satchel and my fingers grasp around nothing. I look down at the chair and notice none of my things are where they should be.

“Where-?” I begin looking towards Felix.

“You have to make me a promise before I give your stuff back” Felix says slow and calmly with his hands up.

“Promise what? You can’t just steal my things, who do you think you are?!” My voice is getting louder and I’m getting anger with him.

“Hey, Mariana, I’m your best friends, that’s who. And as your best friend I want to make sure you don’t do something stupid. You said something pretty stupid last night and I just want to make sure you’re in a clear state of mind today”

“Oh come on I wasn’t serious, I’m not gonna kill her!” Is he being for real? He really thinks I’d kill her, Pan would kill me. ‘At least I’d get his attention’

I roll my eyes at myself but Felix takes it personally. “I’m just trying to look out for you, I know you’re not stupid, but I also know you’re not one to hold back your emotions. I don’t want your emotions getting the best of you, this is serious.” He puts one hand on my arm the other brushes through my hair.

I look up at him and let out a calming breath, “ok, I promise. I’m not going to kill her. But I can’t promise I won’t bully her” I say with attitude.

“That’s fine.” He laughs and his smile makes me smile, “Bullying is expected, and I’ll be here to protect you when you inevitably piss Pan off.” Another kiss to the top of my head.

“Alright you gotta stop with those little kisses” I giggle.

“Why? Falling in love with me?” He grins down at me and quickly raises one eye brow.

I can’t help but smile back up at him, shaking my head I response, “I haven’t fallen in love these past couple months, I don’t think it’s gonna happen.”

“Then why do I have to stop?” He says leaning in to give me 1, 2, 3 more soft kisses down to my forehead.

“Cause Pan will kill you.” I say he just smiles and kisses my right cheek. I think it over for a second, ‘maybe making Pan jealous in return won’t hurt’ , “ok fine, it’s cute and makes me happy. Plus, if Pan’s gonna rub Wendy in my face he can’t get mad about a couple sweet nothing kisses.”

“Ok so we’ll bully Wendy and make Pan extremely jealous. We both know there’s nothing between us so it’ll be his fault if he gets overly offended. But are you trying to get him back or just get him mad?” He’s really pondering over this but when he hits me with this question I have to sit down to think.

“I don’t know, I know I want to piss him off, but getting him back isn’t something I’ve thought about in a couple weeks.” Do I want to get back together with him? I hate him right now so it’s hard to imagine how or if I would get him back, but my heart still yearns for him.

“Let’s just head out to practice, mind our own business, go about the day as normal. We probably won’t even see him today. If we do, you can decide in the moment and I’ll be with it.” Felix says reaching out to escort me to the shooting range.

I take his hand and stand from the bed so he can walk me to the hiding spot of my belongings. I quickly slip on my shoes and holster my sword.

We hold hands and swing our arms as we walk to the range, chit-chatting and laughing. I feel the pit of anxiety in my stomach but I’m doing my best to act like everything is ok, Felix makes that easy.

When we get to the range most of the boys are already working through their arrows or up in the obstacle course. We head towards the issue station and I stop still, stomach out my ass, when I see Wendy handing out bows and quivers.

#peter pan #ouat #fantasy #once upon a time #ouat peter pan #robbie kay smut #robbie kay imagine #robbie kay fantasy #robbie kay #peter pan imagine #peter pan fantasy #peter pan smut

80 notes · View notes

wwe-supernaturalxbands · 1 year ago

Text

Grief

Emily Prentiss X F!Reader

Summary: Spencer had to tell Emily Prentiss' girlfriend that she had died. After, Emily is no longer dead and is trying to get back with her ex as if nothing happened.

Warnings: No happy ending, Emily Prentiss fake death, discussion of putting up babies for adoption, highkey JJ bashing,

Word Count: 1236

*Flashback*

Spencer and JJ walk into the coffee shop that Y/N, Emily's girlfriend, works. JJ looked uncomfortable but Spencer chalked it up to the guilt. They notice her working the cash register, her 6 month pregnancy showing. Her and Emily had decided after 4 years of dating, now was a good time to start their family and they had gone to the clinic and decided Y/N was going to carry the baby as she worked at a coffee shop and Emily could keep working in the BAU. They walked up the register and Y/N smiled at them, "hey guys! What can I get you?" "I'm sorry YN but Emily was killed by Doyle" JJ tells her, deciding to not beat around the bush. Y/N had known about Doyle, Emily had told her once they had been dating for 2 years. "No" is all she says but when she notices JJ refuses to look at her and Spencer is on the verge of crying she begins to cry. Sava, her coworker, quickly comes to her when she notices what's happening. "No" she repeats and she begins to cry and her knees buckle. Sava notices and grabs her as Y/N falls down and begins to cry and scream. The other worker, Dean, also comes to comfort her. Luckily it was a slow day and there was no customers inside. She continues to scream and cry, until it hurts and she's just quietly heaving, the baby kicking. "Water" Spencer asks, Dean going to get her some water. "We're very sorry Y/N" Spencer tells her and before he can hug her, JJ grabs his hand, "we have a case" is all she says and forces him to leave Y/N there, crying into the arms of her coworkers, as she realizes the other mother of her unborn baby and the love of her life has been killed.

** Now

It's been about a year since Emily had her death faked and now that they had defeated Doyle, she knew it was time to go find Y/N, the love of her life. She had continuously asked JJ for details, updates on Y/N and their little girl, but JJ was very vague and didn't really say anything useful. After returning and everyone finally forgiving, Prentiss could tell that the pentagon had changed JJ, and although she didn't notice while she was in Paris, now that they were face to face, she could tell the difference. She figured JJ didn't actually care about the relationship, so she decided to just go to Garcia's office. "Hey Pen, JJ said you're all still in contact with Y/N, does she still work at the coffee shop" Prentiss asked, getting worried when she notices Penelope's sad expression. "No, after JJ told her the news of your death, she told us to just give her space, let her grieve and when she was ready, she'd contact us. She still hasn't." Prentiss nodded and decided to take her lunch break and go to the coffee shop.

As she walks in, she notices it's a bit busy and hopes this isn't overwhelming. Before her death, Emily had bought a ring, to propose and she currently had it in her pocket. She gets in line, nervous about how the reunion may go, she understands Y/N may be mad but after she explains everything, she hopes they can get married and raise their daughter together. JJ never told her when the baby was born but Emily figured she's got to be about a year old now and is hopefully healthy. As the people in front of her pay and move, she looks and notices it's a different coworker than the ones she met before, "is Y/N working? I'm her girlfriend" Emily asks, not wanting to wait any longer. "Y/N's not dating" is all the woman says, Emily notices her nametag has the name 'Mirabel.' "It's a long story, can I please speak to her" Emily asks and pulls out her FBI badge, hoping to speed this up. As soon as Mirabel sees the badge she nods and walks into the kitchen area. After a few minutes she comes out, looking mad. "Ma'am I don't know who you think you are but Y/N said her girlfriend was killed last year" "It's a big misunderstanding, I'm her girlfriend" Emily tries to explain and before Mirabel can respond, Y/N comes out and gasps as she sees Emily. "Baby" Emily whispers and before she can try to get close to Y/N, Y/N looks mad. "Were you to much of a coward to break up with me? Is that why you had Jennifer and Spencer tell me you were killed." People turn to look at them, "baby can we please do this in private, I can explain" Emily tries again. Y/N stays still, anger still in her eyes. Sighing, Emily knows she has to explain here, in front of strangers. Just as she's about to explain she sees Sava, Y/N's coworker that has been there since before Emily had to leave. Sava looks confused but angry. "Doyle was after us baby, I knew I had to protect you and our little girl so I had to run. I had to get him as far away from you as possible. He got me and he did kill me but I was saved, I had to get surgery and before they could call you, Hotch and JJ had to explain what was going on and they faked my death, while I was still under from the surgery. I didn't know this was going to happen, but they made me go to Paris while they continued to search for Doyle. I continuously asked JJ for updates on my girls but she implied you didn't want anything to do with the team." Emily explains, upset that her girl would isolate herself. She notices Y/N go rigid and scoff. "Jennifer clearly didn't want me involved with the team, I tried reaching out, hoping to not mourn the love of my life alone but she told me to leave the team alone, that I would remind them of you too much, she even told me it'd be best for the team if I didn't go to your funeral. And so you know, when she told me you fucking died, I screamed, and I screamed until my lungs hurt to much to continue and Spencer and Jennifer just left me here, on the ground, as if I was just discarded trash" She says and before Emily can try to say something else, Y/N begins to walk away. Before she leaves Emily there, she says something else to break Em's heart and the ring sit heavy in her pocket. "I mourned the love of my life and it took me months to be able to slightly recover so if you think you can waltz back in here and we can go back to how we used to be, you're wrong. I don't want anything to do with you or your team anymore" "What about our daughter? Can I at least be in her life?" What Y/N said next, was what broke the camel's back in Emily's heart, "if you find her, you can ask. I don't know who adopted her when I gave her up" and finally walks back into the kitchen, Marisol awkwardly standing there and Sava standing in front of the door, ensuring Emily doesn't follow.

#bau #emily prentiss x reader #emily prentiss one shot #bau one shot

78 notes · View notes

goddess-in-heaven-and-hell · 1 year ago

Text

Invisible Strings Pt. II - Gwynriel One-Shot

word count: 4.4k

warnings: swear words, sexual innuendo

As it turned out, living in hell was a lot more comfortable than she thought. At least in a strictly physical sense.

Gwyn went about her usual routines in the safety and warmth of the house, only surfacing once a day for training. You’d think the priestesses wouldn’t go as hard as usual, with their pestering instructors being absent, but something about the fact that they currently fought very real battles served as a kick in the ass. They were diligent and thorough; even adding exercises and runs as they went. Gwyn knew her friends and colleagues were just as nervous as her, had just as much energy to spare. So, they went to work.

It was all calculated, really. Gwyn tried hard all day, working both her mind and body into a state of absolute exhaustion – because she knew that night was unavoidable. And night meant too much peace and quiet. It also didn’t help that the mere thought of it was so deeply entangled with thoughts of Azriel that sunsets were like a stab to the heart.

The only thing that helped, even if it was just for a day or two, were his messages.

Two weeks after he was gone Clotho visited Gwyn in the alcove where she set up work for the day, a crumpled piece of paper in hand and a conspirator’s smile barely visible underneath her low hood. Gwyn was reprimanded by her superior for the loud shriek she let loose when she understood. He kept his first promise, at least.

The message was brief, to the point, and seemingly scribbled in a haste. But he had thought of her, in the middle of absolute chaos. So she sat there for a while, the paper pressed to her chest and staring into nothing. It spoke of numbers and strategy, but held the sentiment of ‘all will be well’. And that was enough for now.

Each morning, Gwyn was the first to arrive at the big spread sheet that was plastered to a wall in the center of the library, right by the entrance. On it, Clotho (and any other official bearing news, Gwyn included) updated the ins-and-outs of this conflict. Each morning, she surveyed the malicious piece of paper, scanning frantically for death tolls, victories, and sometimes, a direct reference to her Shadowsinger.

And so, the days simply went on, with March turning into April, and April making way for the mild May days. As the morning air around them got increasingly warm, Azriel’s messages got increasingly short.

The latest one read:

“Gwyn,

Cassian: mildly hurt (leg, will heal eventually)

Nesta: furious at Cassian

Shadows: missing their favorite

Me: absolutely done with the people around me, will have to find a cave soon for some quiet

Yours, Az”

It brought the first real smile to her face after weeks of sadness. But she also knew (from the handy paper), that a certain notorious warrior with the ability to command shadows caused quite the ruckus during the lastest battle, which was fought right at the border of autumn and summer territory. It didn’t mention exactly what happened, just implied “considerable damage done after an outburst of power”. Gwyn had hoped for Azriel to clear some things up with his message, but he’ll simply have to tell her when he was back.

It turned out, she didn’t have to wait that long.

From time to time, even Cassian and Nesta sent word, assuring her of their relative well-being and the course of this conflict. It was Cassian who, scribbled at the very end of the message, informed her of exactly why her Shadowsinger went berserk that one time.

“… and Gwynie, Az saved out asses today. I’ve never seen him do something like it. It was like he released a blast from his Siphons and Shadows together. I’m not kidding, it evaporated the whole right flank of Autumn. Sent the rest screaming for their mommies. After, when I asked him about it, he just shrugged and mumbled something along the lines of ‘it got caught in the little shit’s uniform and he nearly ripped it’. Maybe you can make something of it.”

But it couldn’t have been. It was just a bracelet, after all.

On May 7th, victory was announced. The news didn’t even make it on paper, it was simply called out by one priestess after another, until shouts of euphoria and relief echoed through the mountain. This morning, Gwyn trained like she never did before. And with a bigger smile on her face than a squat should ever elicit.

They won. And they were coming home.

---

A few days later, as Gwyn readied herself for sleep, she felt something.

It started in her chest, and she briefly wondered if she should see a healer, but the uneasiness made way for warmth after a few minutes. Warmth then turned into a tingling feeling, spreading out through her arms and legs. Then, a pull.

When she reassured herself she wasn’t having a nervous breakdown, and sleeping like this was off the table anyways, she decided to move around. The priestess threw on her dressing gown over her nightdress, and started to climb some stairs. Working out some extra energy.

Until she noticed the pulling and tugging in her chest got worse every time she was at the bottom of said stairs, and slightly lighter when she reached the top. Another step into the hall of the House proper relieved her of more pressure. And another. She was starting to freak out again, when she suddenly noticed a very real tug on her wrist.

Gwyn looked down. At the whisp of Shadows wrapping soothingly around her and pulling her further into the corridor.

She wasn’t proud to admit that it took her a ridiculous amount of time to realize. But when she did, the fireworks starting in her body made her jump into action.

Walking turned into racing, the walls beside her blurring. But the tears escaping her might have had something to do with that too. She rounded corner after corner, climbed up a thousand flights of stairs, like she knew where she was going. Her heart knew anyways, she figured. And then, she saw him.

Azriel was sat on the armchair of his room, door left open like he couldn’t be bothered to close it, his eyes closed with exhaustion. Gwyn briefly took him in, trying to get her breathing to calm. His coloring was all off, even though he must have been outside often. His shoulders slumped, and he seemed to have lost a bit of weight too. The male looked like he needed a holiday desperately. Even back in safety, his fists were clenched as they rested on his lap.

But he didn’t loose his wings, or an arm, or a leg, or his life. He sat there, in one piece, just like the night she barged into his room crying.

A moment which simply begged for a repeat.

“Azriel?”, she rasped out. All other words escaped her.

And him too, it seemed, as his head lifted to take her in. He moved slowly, deliberately, like he fought his strength for every inch gained. So, Gwyn helped.

In the middle of his room, they clashed together so hard it stole Gwyn’s breath away. Azriel hugged her unbelievably close, his arms and wings and Shadows coming around her body and engulfing her in his scent. The priestess hugged him back just as tightly, not caring that she was only in very thin layers of clothing, or that she was crying again. Because this was her Azriel.

Still hugging, Gwyn heard him mumble something into her hair. She couldn’t hear initially over the beating of her heart, but then-

“What in the Mother’s name are you being ‘sorry’ for?”, she leaned back only slightly (like hell would she leave his arms) so she could see his face, take in his gaunt features and familiar amber eyes.

Azriel entangled one of his hands from behind her and held it open between them, palms facing up. Where her bracelet found its last resting place, it seemed.

“I was flying and winnowing home in leaps, and during the last flight – I don’t know how – I felt it sliding off my arm. Caught it midair, but I don’t know if I can fix it.”, he explained with so much sadness it made her heart squeeze painfully in her chest. The strands were almost translucent, shredded beyond repair. And Gwyn smiled at its magic.

For lack of better words, it had worked like a charm.

Gwyn felt more tears sliding down her face in pure happiness. The bracelet must have ripped as soon as the wish held within was fulfilled. As soon as Azriel was flying home, safely and healthily.

“It doesn’t matter, Az. I’ll make you a new one. Or we’ll make it together.”, Gwyn was still in awe at the tiny piece of string, and the male standing in front of her. She stood on her tiptoes, both hands coming to each side of his face, and pressed her forehead against his. “Thank you for staying alive, Azzy.”

The Shadowsinger hugged her closer, one hand coming to the nape of her neck. “Thank you for keeping me alive.”

Neither of them had the time and energy to acknowledge what they both felt, clear as day, as it glowed and pulsed in their chests. They simply didn’t care, for there were bigger miracles in the world. Well, Gwyn didn’t. Azriel seemed to be too exhausted to notice anyways.

“Shadowsinger?”, Gwyn mumbled after a while.

“Mh?”

“You smell a bit.”

Azriel snorted. “Surprising, since I’ve just come from war and raced against time to be here earlier than everyone else. But next time, I’ll just bathe instead of seeing you right away. No problem.”

Gwyn smiled. “No. Next time, I’ll come with you, remember?”

“Right. I’ll tell Rhys to piss off some important people so you can have your war. But tomorrow.”, Azriel smiled at her, his hand coming up to caress her cheek. He fell quiet while his eyes continued to roam her face, soaking up her smile.

What he said next needed to be recorded in history for the best change of subject to ever exist.

“I’m in love with you.”, Azriel confessed.

He seemed a bit taken aback by it himself, for his eyes widened almost imperceptibly. “Gods, that should have come out a bit more … cohesively.”

Gwyn was staring at him, mouth agape but already stretching back into a smile. “It was cohesive enough I’d say.” The butterflies in her stomach at least understood perfectly.

“I- fuck“, Azriel finally let go of her, stepping back to the edge of his bed and sitting down with exhaustion. He was clearly annoyed at himself, and the combination of anger, confusion and sleep-deprivation made him look like an overgrown bat that was just woken up from a nap. It was adorable, and Gwyn wanted it painted.

“I planned to tell you this in a really romantic, beautiful way. Planned it every waking minute I spent there and wasn’t preoccupied. Gwyn, you were on my mind constantly, looking over my shoulder – and apparently also guarding my back. And I wanted to do this in a way that felt grander. Like in the novels you like so much.”

She practically felt him mentally scolding himself.

“You- I-“, he took a deep breath. “The thought of not having told you when I should have haunted me. It kept me going week after week, because I just wasn’t about to die before telling you. That you are my home, and my best friend. And for a few months now, I have started to think of you differently than before. The more I wanted it to go, the stronger it got.”

The priestess had hoped, of course, but hearing him say it gave her enough material to daydream for the rest of her life. Gwyn involuntarily inched closer to him until she was in touching range again, brushing her hand through his longer-than-usual locks and massaging his scalp.

“I think I knew. Or some part of me did anyways, when we said goodbye that night in March.”, she confessed, her voice as soothing as the patterns she drew with her fingers. “You really rather faced war than just confessing this the moment we parted, huh?”

Azriel signed. “Don’t remind me of my shortcomings, please, not tonight anyways. Swords are a little more straight forward to me than words of affection.”

The Shadowsinger’s hands came up to hold onto Gwyn’s waist, pulling her downwards so she sank onto his lap, her own arms draped over his broad shoulders. Apparently, neither of them was capable to be physically separated right now. She sat on rock hard muscle and leather, and yet, nothing has felt more comfortable in her whole life.

“We can work on that.”, she promised, “Put it right on the list, next to ‘make a new intimidatingly-male-colored bracelet’.”

“We can?”, he asked – voice so low it sounded almost … unsure?

Gwyn furrowed her brows, finding his gaze again to assure herself that he was still alive and not sliding into unconsciousness while she talked about bracelets. The hope and anxiety she was met with gave her heart a squeeze.

And she realized she hadn’t said it back.

“Oh Gods.”, Gwyn broke out into giggles, “Az, I’m sorry. You need some vital information to understand.”

She cupped his face again – it fit so perfectly in her palms – and pressed a soft, loving kiss on his lips. After a moment of shock Azriel responded, moving his mouth over her own in gentle, careful movements. It was her first kiss after Sangravah, and it felt exhilarating.

“I love you, too.”, she mumbled, her mouth still so close to his it brushed his skin with every word. “And only now that you’re back I feel like I can breathe again. You make me want to be brave and strong – even voluntarily go into war. You are my best friend, too. But at the same time so much more than that.”

Azriel’s face, previously neutral in expression, finally crumpled with emotion when he felt the truth in her words. That she wasn’t about to take them back or reject him.

“May I kiss you again, love?”

Gwyn smiled. It was all her body was able to do now. “Most definitely.”

---

Never had Gwyn seen a person that devoured that much food within so little time. It was actually impressive, and there was probably some kind of money to be won with that talent.

Her and Azriel were seated at the gigantic dining table in the house, serving themselves with the large breakfast the house provided in celebration of Az returning. And even though Gwyn ate perfectly normal these past weeks, she decided to treat herself too. Because a second helping of syrup-covered pancakes never hurt nobody, and she did go through a lot of mental tension.

Azriel was on his third or fourth plate by now, mixing sweet with savory and already looking so much better than last night as he filled her in on the fascinating and heartbreaking details of what happened. Gwyn doing the same with updates from the house and library.

Despite that fact that the priestess never felt more at ease with another person than Azriel, safe for her late twin, it was like they had reached another level of familiarity this morning. Oh, Gwyn was still giddy just looking at the male and the way he made holding a fork look swoon-worthy, but they might as well have been together for a decade. No anxious fidgeting, no desperate search for topics to talk about.

The fact that they officially spent their first night together might have helped.

It was all very innocent, to be fair. They simply refused to let go of one another, and so Azriel suggested she stay with him. Gwyn agreed, for purely practical reasons of course. And after the Shadowsinger had his much-deserved dinner and bath, they found each other again under the soft cover of the duvet. The blush that stole itself into Gwyn’s cheeks had nothing to do with the hot tea as she remembered it.

“What are you thinking about?”, Azriel’s voice held a dangerous teasing edge to it.

Gwyn took a sip from her cup, biding her time and hoping the color would miraculously drain from her face again if she tried hard enough. In front of her, the Shadowsinger raised an eyebrow. She felt like a kid being caught with her hand in a bag of candy.

The priestess set her cup down with pointed care and readjusted herself on her seat. “I’ve been wondering when Cassian and Nesta might arrive. Hopefully today.”

Definitely not her best diversion.

“Oh? And you were blushing because…?”. When Az caught a lie, he was as relentless as a hound on a scent.

“Well, I’m happy. For obvious reasons.”, her tone was way off, too defensive and high-pitched to have sounded normal. Gwyn blamed his beautiful lips for throwing her off her game. And the fact that she got an unlimited number of kisses from them now.

She wouldn’t come out of this easily. So, she might as well go down swinging. Because teasing your significant other was one of the benefits of becoming an official girlfriend. “I’m just so excited to see Cass again. Train with him. I’ve missed him so much.”

Gwyn added a sigh for good measure.

Azriel’s eyes narrowed at her. But whatever he was about to say was interrupted by a loud shriek.

Both of them were out of their seats in a heartbeat, Shadows flying out in every direction to scout.

“Balcony.”, Az mumbled, a dagger poised in hand and already on his way to the massive glass doors to their side. Gwyn followed him on silent feet.

But before his hands touched the handle, he relaxed his posture and let out a startled laugh. A Shadow curling around his ear must have given him a closer idea of their ‘threat’.

Landing on the balcony before them were Cassian and Nesta, wearing ridiculously large grins on their faces and looking a bit worse for wear.

Gwyn pushed past Az, out of the doors and flung herself in Nesta’s arms before she touched the ground.

“You’re back!”, she whisper-cried into her hair while her best friend squeezed her in return. Those remained the only coherent words she uttered in her direction. They proceeded to communicate in a series of squeals and unintelligible sounds. But the sentiment was conveyed.

After that, the morning continued in a flurry of hugs, random outbursts of happiness and endless topics to talk about.

Their favorite, much to Azriel’s chagrin: Gwyn’s relationship status. Because according to Cassian, ‘nothing about this war was as bad as having to endure Azriel’s constant sulking’ and it ‘finally paying off’. Az seemed a bit taken aback that it didn’t remain their little secret for a while, but endured the good-natured teasing like a true hero.

Which, actually, seemed to be the general consensus of his behavior.

“That fucking battle, let me tell you.”, Cassian managed to get out in-between mouthfuls of food, “One second, we’re all in deep shit. Next, the whole right flank – incinerated. Nothing but darkness all around. And I just thought: ‘What the hell, who else in this army can wield that kind of power?’. Turns out”, Cassian clapped Azriel on the shoulder affectionately, “Az here did that all by himself.”

‘Az here’ looked ready to bolt into a far-off mountain village.

“How did you figure out to do that anyways? And why has that brilliant idea not come to you during the multiple wars we already fought?”, Cas asked.

Azriel just shrugged, clearly not comfortable with the question, which caused Cassian to roll his eyes at him. “Gwyn, any ideas what to make of it?”

Gwyn of course had an idea, but she also new Az didn’t really want to talk about it yet. So she answered carefully, “Maybe it was a burst of emotion. Your Shadows seem to react to that sometimes.”

“I got a bit angry.”, Azriel confirmed in a low, almost gentle voice. The explanation was clearly aimed at Gwyn, but it was Cass who answered.

“A bit angry my ass. He cut the guy’s head clean off his shoulders and then released a blast of power that had Rhys do a double take from the other side of the field.”

Cassian shook his head, and that was that. The conversation then turned to way more comfortable topics, and as soon as Cassian finished eating, Nesta flashed him ‘the eyes’. Both were out of their seats within seconds, not even bothering with an explanation.

Not that either Azriel or Gwyn needed one as they exchanged a long-suffering look.

“Can I interest you in a flight?”, he asked, already making his way to the balcony. His eyes sparkled with mirth and happiness, and Gwyn had never been more in love.

“Well, yes, you can.”, she pranced over to him, lacing her fingers with his and letting him take the lead to the railing. She always wanted to fly with him. “One more thing, before I lay my life into your hands.”

“They are very capable hands. But sure, go ahead.”, the Shadowsinger smirked at her in such an openly flirty way it made Gwyn blush. But she powered through.

“Soo. The angry tantrum you threw. You think it had anything to do with the bracelet almost ripping?”, she asked, the truth in her words confirmed as she took in his shocked reaction. Well, if you counted a slight widening of his eyes as outright shock.

“How on earth did you guess that?”, he replied, pulling her closer by the waist. “You’re too smart for your own good, Berdara.”

Gwyn giggled in triumph. She would not rat out Cassian and the hint from his message, not if it meant that Azriel thought her to be psychic. “It made sense. With you seeming so crestfallen as it ripped.”

The atmosphere changed after she said that, his playful attitude turning somber.

“It was a difficult few days. We lost a good chunk of our army, some valuable assets too, and both my brothers turned to their respective partners for solace while I stayed by the campfire.”, he spoke the words very matter-of-fact, but they hit Gwyn nonetheless. She could picture it, how he had to stay in the cold darkness without the comfort of a loved one.

“I’m not saying you should have come with me. To this day, I’m thankful you decided to stay.”, he quickly added, “Usually, this kind of misplaced jealousy would leave me hopeless and angry. But I felt your bracelet around my wrist, so instead I started to remember you. The thoughts of you, your smile, your gorgeous freckles – it felt like you were physically present. All my hope and dreams anchored to the bracelet. It spurred me on, because I wanted to win this war so you could live in peace. And it reminded me not to lose my temper and strike without thinking, so that I might return and have the courage to admit my feelings to you.”

“But that one time, I let anger take over. Because it nearly ripped. And it felt like I was about to lose that one tether I still had to you. The thought made me mad with rage.”

Gwyn stared at him in awe. At the male, who had saved her home yet again, and who’s unyielding loyalty made her heart race.

“We definitely have to work on your anger management.”

Azriel snorted, but nodded his agreement. He leaned down to carefully brush his lips against hers, the silent question answered by the priestess as she rose to her tiptoes to deepen the kiss. She was certain she’d never get enough of this.

“I’m so proud of you, Az. For getting through his, fighting for me and your family, for coming back to me. I love you.”

Being able to say it so freely now was a groundbreaking experience. Especially when it ultimately led to the great Shadowsinger blushing.

“Back to the topic of anger management though-”, Azriel said as he moved to scoop Gwyn off the floor, ready to take flight, “What was that again you said about Cassian earlier?”

Gwyn’s arms looped around his neck, holding on for dear life even though they were still firmly grounded. Her teasing would come to bite her in the ass now, it seemed. “Umm, I think it was that I hoped him and Nesta would return today. And ‘yay’, it came true.”

Lying by omission wasn’t too bad, right?

Azriel nodded pensively. “I seem to remember. But after that, I just recall feeling like I was stabbed in the heart.”

Gwyn had to bite her lip to stop herself from grinning. This playful side of him was her new favorite thing. “Weird. Heartburn?”

“You might be right.”, he answered slowly. Their eyes caught for a second. Then, Azriel stepped onto the railing, Gwyn still tightly cradled in his arms. He turned his back to the precipice, and the grin that graced his features felt simultaneously joyous and dangerous. “Must have been heartburn.”

He let himself fall backwards, laughing out freely as Gwyn shrieked with excitement. The drop lasted only for a second, before Azriel turned and caught them with the spread of his mighty wings. They lurched upwards again, sailing on a breeze towards the city of Velaris.

“I sincerely hope you are deaf on one ear now!”, Gwyn laughed. She was barely able to form the words from the wide smile that seemed to be permanently plastered to her face when she was with him. Even though her stomach remained somewhere on the balcony, she already loved flying.

“And I sincerely hope you think twice before you tease me.”, he answered in mock seriousness. He added a quick kiss to her cheek for good measure, just in case she misunderstood him. “You being with me now– it means you have to spare me from heartbreak like that.”

“I never took you for someone who likes to be coddled.”, Gwyn shot back.

“Ohh, you clearly don’t know what you got yourself into.”, Azriel drawled, banking right to fly over the outskirts of Velaris.

Gwyn thought to herself that she was more than happy to figure it out.

#gwynriel #pro gwynriel #acotar writing #gwyn x azriel #azriel x gwyn #gwyneth berdara #acotar #azriel

37 notes · View notes

arsontastic-fandom-takes · 4 months ago

Note

OMG HI!! You wouldn’t understand my pain when searching for any blogs that wrote for Sun Haven characters x readers. Much less see a blog that were still active! But I’d like to request for Kitty and Lynn (or just kitty if you only write for one character per ask) for the following alphabets F, I, J, L, U

Rip I was almost done replying to this, then opened a post on my tumblr app and the post got deleted T-T. But Hey!!! You'd be surprised how much I understand the struggle. I'm happy to provide, though. I will admit that I'm not too familiar with the newer characters(like after the seasons update) because I haven't been able to play for a while. Thanks for the ask!!!

Rip me for having to retype all of this. ( I am being smart now and typing it in my notes app instead of tumblr now tho.)

Kitty:

F- Fiancé ( How do they feel about commitment? How fast do they want to get married?) I don't think she's scared of commitment. I don't really know what a normal time frame for marriage is since I don't want to get married, but I think she'd want it pretty fast. Like once she's certain she likes you, she'll want marriage. She doesn't strike me as someone who cares how fast a relationship is moving.

I- I love you( how fast do they say love) She's also fast with this. She doesn't really see the need for it to be a special moment. "If she doesn't love you, then why would she date you?" <- Kitty's thought process

J- Jealousy(How jealous do they get? What do they do when they're jealous?) She doesn't really get jealous easily. Not because of confidence, but because she trusts you not to do anything. She strikes me as the type to not get into relationships unless she *really* trusts that person. If she were to get jealous, though, she would probably get more touchy than normal and may or may not hiss at that person behind your back.

L- Little Ones(how are they around children?) Kids LOVE her. She's so fun to be around and she meows and she's a cat!! Even to amari kids who aren't as affected by her status as a cat amari, she's still great because she's entertaining and she cares a lot about their feelings.

U- Ugly (What are some bad habits of theirs?) I think she chews her hair sometimes. Not often, but enough. She usually does it when she's bored and has to sit still for long. She also can't sit still for too long with nothing to distract her. We know she speaks in 3rd person, which can be considered a bad habit, so I'm listing it, but I don't really think it is.

Lynn:

F- Fiancé ( How do they feel about commitment? How fast do they want to get married?) She's also not scared of commitment. Tbh, she kind of expects it. She gets into relationships with the assumption that one of the goal posts is marriage. She does want to take it slow, though.

I- I love you( how fast do they say love) She's not slow to say it and not fast. It doesn't take her years to say it, but when she does say it, she makes sure it's a special moment. She places a lot of importance on the word and might do it how it's done in her culture.

J- Jealousy(How jealous do they get? What do they do when they're jealous?) She gets sad instead of jealous. Both of those emotions are smoke screens for insecurity, but instead of reflecting outward as done in jealousy, she reflects it inwards. She deals with it by doing more work than she normally would. The flow of the metal and forge keeps her mind too busy to dwell on her thoughts. Solon will look at you judgingly when that happens, though. On the bright side, when your relationship is more established and she's more certain of herself and your love for her, the sadness is mostly just a whisper instead of like a full-blown scream in her mind.

L- Little Ones(how are they around children?) Kids love her, too. She may not have the same entertaining personality as Kitty, but she is very compassionate. Kids like her because she cares about how they feel and takes those feelings into account. She also treats them like adults.(not in the sense that she allows them to gamble, but more in the sense that she treats them as beings capable of independent thought and reason. She doesn't automatically assume they don't know anything)

U- Ugly (What are some bad habits of theirs?) She bites her nails frequently when she's anxious. She also tends to overwork herself, and she often bottles up her feelings of not being enough. She's also pretty forgetful, so she'll leave things in random places and she might forget appointments or birthdays. Especially if it's her first time attending it or it isn't part of her daily or weekly schedule.

Hope this was okay!! Thanks again for the ask and I hope you enjoyed!!

Reblogs > Comments > Likes.

Please don't just scroll further if you liked this post.

#arsontastic writing #sun haven #sun haven kitty #lynn sun haven #anon ask #uhhhh what else do i tag #pls help I haven't tagged things in forever #arsontastic original #original post

6 notes · View notes

rottenbrainstuff · 3 months ago

Text

IWTV s2 ep 3 - Armand is a fucking little gremlin

Interesting ep! I mean man they all are. This show is amazing. I love the actors, I (mostly) love the updates to the story, just, such care and attention to every facet from everyone involved. Beautiful.

I always get a bit eye-rolly when you have (or see a stupid instragram video of) a white character eating expensive fresh sushi where the fish is presented whole and still having nerve twitches after death, and they freak out about it and can't eat it. I get that it's a bit weird and if it was me sure I would have to wait until it stopped wiggling to start eating, but like, where did you think the fish came from, did we pick it off a bush? Anyways, here I can almost, almost forgive the very tired trope, because you could say perhaps it is a contrast between Daniel, and the vampires and their predatory feeding habits, maybe.

I knew we were getting some flashbacks of Armand's old coven and Nicholas and Lestat, but I was surprised by how short it all actually was. I do hope that when we get to season three we're going to have some proper time spent on all of this. Armand's dirty old satanist coven was so interesting to me.

I actually had to pause the show to get mad for a little bit when I saw Louis say that Lestat abandoned Nicki and abandoned the Paris coven, because everything Lestat does is just for himself. Abandoned! Oh my god Louis, what did Armand tell you? Abandoned! Lies! Armand, you gremlin! Right, sure, the guy who was screaming with his face all red when Armand took Nicholas away is going to just teehee oops leave him behind there for absolutely no reason, no reason whatsoever, yes for sure, nothing more to say there. I also don't trust that the theater scene played out exactly as Armand said, with Lestat quite callously fucking him while Nicholas watched, no, I don't buy that. Everything Armand says is suspect to me.

It's so sad that Claudia reinforces this idea later as well, complaining that Lestat never told them there was this cool fun amazing coven troupe in Paris, he only ever warned them away and told them other vampires were vicious.

(Bruce is sure shit, isn't he. I kinda wanna see him show up again at some point. Maybe he can be one of the vampires at Lestat's big concert? I feel like he must be friends with my V:tM character's shit sire, haha, since they seem to both be reading from the same scuzzy man playbook. On another V:tM tangent (sorry) I know Lestat is the quintessential toreador, but Armand with his creepy tricks, his ability to not be recorded, his religious cosplay, and (in the book) his coven's old tradition of burying new fledglings and making them dig themselves up through their own graves as a test, he gives me lasombra vibes)

This show is so confusing to me and I love it. Every character is so bad and good, good and bad, sad and mean, mean and sad. Everyone is behaving horribly, but I also feel bad for everyone. Lestat is a dickhead but it's so tragic to me how everyone always assumes the worst of him all the time when he really was honestly just trying to protect the people he loved. Armand is a nasty manipulative gremlin, but I feel terrible for him as well, how his face falls every time the situation turns sexual. God, him and Louis were so awkward in the park, like two teenagers who don't really know what to do, or, like two very sad adult men both half-heartedly playing out a role that neither one really fully wants to play. Man, now I desperately wanna see him and Eric get it on not for the old man yaoi, but just to fucking see Armand actually genuinely want something for once.

Jacob is doing such a great fucking job. Poor old Louis.

For some reason I can't stop thinking about Sam (? that was Sam right?) showing Claudia how the rat box works, as if it's her first day at Vampire McDonalds and he's showing her the deep fryer. Santiago is also an amazing character, they're all amazing characters, I love this show so much. Poor Claudia. She is so happy to be included in this group, so happy that she completely and totally ignores the red flags that are waving in her face. Claudia gets her rage and her cruelty from Lestat, but I guess she gets her desperate desire to see good in people even when they mean her harm from Louis.

But, the end sequence is just a bit strange to me. The tension of oh, is Armand going to hurt Louis??? is very strange and doesn't work for me. We know he's not going to, Louis is here in the present day. For me it takes the tension out of the scene. I mean, beautiful acting on Jacob's part, the fact that what he thinks will be his last words are all just his wishes and concerns for Claudia to be happy was just. Ugh! Ugh! But, it just didn't work for me. And anyways, who is narrating this whole bit? This scene shows the coven threatening Armand to do something about Louis, and I don't buy for a single second that that's the actual dynamic here, that Armand is just this poor helpless guy who is forced to do what his coven wants him to, no, not a chance. So I want to know who is narrating this. But... in this scene, Armand and Louis are not in the room. They've both left to speak to the buyer's lawyer, Daniel is by himself checking out the talamasca files on his laptop, yet the narrative continues somehow. That's the first time I've noticed that happen, and I found it very strange. I don't know if this was done on purpose and you're supposed to notice how strange that is, or if it was a mistake. Was it supposed to be info from the talamasca files? I didn't get that impression.

But anyways, generally amazing, as always. I do hope the show includes Gabrielle in the future, and I hope we see more detailed flashbacks of all of them in Paris, and what exactly happened to poor Nicholas. Every actor here is doing amazing.

#iwtv #amc iwtv #interview with the vampire

5 notes · View notes

thegeminisage · 6 months ago

Text

star trek update time. i am waaay behind. monday we did voy's "non sequitur" and "twisted" and tuesday we did voy's "parturition" and "persistence of vision."

non sequitur:

this one actually made me SOOO mad, like absolutely FUCKING livid, because on paper this concept sounds like it could be High Art. a complete tearjerker. harry kim, most unassuming guy ever, is, through a stroke of blind luck, transported back to earth, and instead of staying and enjoying having everything he wants, he CHOOSES to go back to the delta quadrant to be with his ship.

like, firstly, the idea that it's harry specifically - harry whose mother tried to send him his clarinet, harry who's trying to remain faithful to his girl back home, mister aw-shucks who-me who befriended tom paris out of compassion and who is new to this whole space travel thing. NOBODY could blame him for staying home with his girl and his career and his clarinet. the rest of the voyager crew, if they could have been asked, would have been SCREAMING at him to grab the chance with both hands and enjoy it twice as much for them. AND HE CHOOSES TO GO BACK. it shows grit, it shows maturity, and it shows how much he loves his crew

oh yeah bonus points for tom paris dying for harry not because i hate tom paris (i do but he's growing on me JUST a little) but because harry was the first person to ever see him as anything besides a complete and total waste of space, in whatever reality

unfortunately, we didn't get any of that shit in this episode. the girlfriend basically existed to cause problems on purpose and not in the fun way. first she blows off his break with reality and then she decides he needs help after he gets caught hacking starfleet or whatever. she doesn't trust him for a minute and none of her actions or dialogue makes ANY sense, let alone makes her endearing or someone we feel sad to see harry lose

secondly, we spent so much time on the mechanics of how harry got here and how he's gonna get back that we didn't have time for any extra drama. it was just him explaining stuff over and over and people getting increasingly mad/disbelieving about it

this episode should have had me sobbing into my hands. instead it was so boring i was reaching for solitaire on my phone. JUSTICE for harry kim. this could have been his MOMENT and instead it was a travesty. tngcore and i mean that in the meanest way possible

twisted:

kes's surprise party was sweet! i didn't love neelix being weird about her again though. NOW i see why everyone says he's so horrible...it's such a shame bc i REALLY liked him and i want to continue to like him, but he makes it hard. it's the exact same problem i had with geordi (he's fine if we keep him away from women but we can't seem to do that) and now i also understand why star trek fans want berman dead.

also, when tuvok almost touched janeway. HI HELLO

the rest of this was really boring. i feel like they did absolutely nothing for the entire episode, except when they were about to die, at which point they argued a little

i will say the doctor in the holodeck is fun though. he was so mad about that lady trying to mack on him. gay king <3

parturition:

the summary for this episode terrified me. "neelix and tom paris fight over kes and then raise a lizard baby together" felt like it was combining many of my least favorite things, aside from, of course, the lizard baby. it turned out to be ALARMINGLY watchable and even solved some of my neelix problems and some of my tom paris problems, assuming we stick with this development and don't reset it back to status quo

first, it must be said: the use of a Real Puppet for the lizard baby. inspired. 10/10. they don't make em like this anymore

secondly, i was LIVID when neelix started that fight (not to defend tom paris but he didn't even DO anything) but i WAS glad that kes got to be angry about it, even going so far as to snap at the doctor, who is innocent of all crimes in this particular instances. i'd be fed up too!!

i still kind of wish they had apologized to kes but whatever i'll take it

sorry, but they did kind of send tom paris to the yaoi cave with neelix there. no yaoi happened but there was a cave and there was co-parenting.

and it worked! once they found the baby and stopped being annoying it turned into quite a watchable episode. godmother neelix. i think tom daddy issues paris respected that he refuses to abandon it even when it would have saved their asses to do so and neelix official ship chef respected that tom paris figured out how to feed a baby. furthermore, once neelix showed an iota of self-awareness and they cleared the air i felt MUCH better about the whole situation. i really hope this is the last of neelix's jealousy and controlling behavior bc it's truly not it

persistence of vision:

this episode made me cry BUT only because i had already had a whole ass day. that said, did you guys know janeway's crew loves her. like they love her. she snaps at them and theyre like hey you need some shore leave. she skips lunch and gets gently ushered into the cafeteria. they treat her really niceys and it's not because women are weak it's because they LOVE HER!!!! maybe i cried when she was fed lunch. whose business is it

this is one of the only episodes i didn't mind the holodeck. i actually found myself weirdly invested in the novel plot. i think mr sideburns is keeping a wife in his attic if you know what i mean

the hallucinations were both fun and a little scary, especially once we got out of the holonovel. tom paris's DAD? TUVOK'S WIFE??? i wanna see his BABIES!!! his potential grandbabies!!!

ALSO, B'ELANNA AND CHAKOTAY? all this time she wanted him and he was with seska...AND she's gonna have to settle for tom paris...the fuck chart for this ship would be wild. star trek is always at its best when its doing unrestrained horniness i think

winding back to tom paris i like that he was like (to his dad) "i used to be so shitty and i don't want to be shitty anymore and fuck you and fuck my daddy issues also." like i'm reserving judgment out of an abundance of caution because i don't feel terribly optimistic at this time, but this IS a narrative that has the potential to compel me, assuming he actually does stop being shitty.

i don't even really care that we don't know if the aliens were ever actually there or not. like, nothing in that episode made sense, but it's wild how you can get away with that if your episode is funny or involves character work or has some other attribute of merit. like, literally anything. looking at you, tng

the doctor and kes always <3

i also really liked b'elanna and janeway's girl talk at the end. they could get it.

NEXT TIME: ds9's "the visitor" (thanks again to the person who warned me) and "hippocratic oath."

#personal #star trek blogging #voy lb

5 notes · View notes

turmoilcity · 6 months ago

Text

iNSIGNIFICANT uPDATE

As I try to work on my art progression, here's some of my latest music taste

Free Florence + The Machiene

Definitely a Bella song that talks about her sanity and how she has to pretend to be more stable than she is.

°•○●●○•°▪︎□■■□▪︎°•○●●○•°

The Perfect Pair beabadoobee-

Brandian song. Lyrics talk about feeling to be the perfect pair but one does not want to commit. The vibes are very soft and gentle and sound like they come from Lillian's pov. I can see her performing this while looking at Brandon at the back of an audience. The ending is grand, it makes me imagine her in dramatic clothing like a gown with big lights. Brandon is stunned.

°•○●●○•°▪︎□■■□▪︎°•○●●○•°

Pretty Boy The Neighborhood

First its sounding like maybe Boomer to Bubbles or Butch to Buttercup and its very sweet and romantic. But then the lyrics say pretty boy. But then it says baby girl. I feel like this is Bella to Jared as well. or Brandon to Lillian

°•○●●○•°▪︎□■■□▪︎°•○●●○•°

Ur so pretty Wasia Project

Jenna to Mark. THEY KISSED ONCE? Probably for show in Mark's case.MARK'S CRIED? Probably not. Shes just daydreaming. Okay I can see them holding one another, but in Mark's case its friendly. Jenna damn ur so in love. 'Say u dont want this to end' but why is Mary in the view with him. Now ITS SAD, HES HANGING OUT WITH MARY AND NOT OOOOOOH BOY he smiles with MARY- AINT SMILE WITH JENNA THOUGH. SHES SO DISTRAUGHT. FUCK. JENNAAAAAAA IM SO SORRY GIRL.

°•○●●○•°▪︎□■■□▪︎°•○●●○•°

What makes you beautiful OneDirection-

jennas first time meeting Mark via mission. On the chorus he back flips off a building. She rushes to its edge, looking for him, but he's gone

Jenna: he's probably dead or something like that… dammit.

But as the song carries on he shows up at school on the bridge to chorus

((Is Jenna and Mark's love a planned thing? Like all staged but Jenna slips and catches feelings))

°•○●●○•°▪︎□■■□▪︎°•○●●○•°

Movies Conan Gray

Jennark... again

“That just on the drive here I was looking through your text”

Jenna driving with him holding the phone shes mouthing, “Why are you texting her?”

He’s mouthing, “It’s nothing. You and I aren’t even dating.”

“I was screaming my damn head off, "How you still love your ex"?”

Jenna looks HEATED.

"And you say that it's over, but why does she call you..."

“At 3 a.m. and 4 a.m.?”

She’s scrolling up and mouthing “at 3 a.m and 4 a.m” trying to make sense of this while being visually upset and conflicted.

“That’s a funny way of staying friends”

She mouths this as well

°•○●●○•°▪︎□■■□▪︎°•○●●○•°

Something Stupid Frank Sinatra, Nancy Sinatra

Brandian (Lillian and Brandon) in their cupcake phases, clearly ignoring that the relationship they tease is not clever. They just like to really tease the sweeter things in their bond. They enjoy the company of the other very pretty person. Every parlor ‘outing’, stroll on the boardwalk, times they choose one another as partners, and the quiet time alone in the park with the birds chirping. Especially on the last ‘I love you’s. The scene is evening, slowly pulling out on them surrounded by the rose bushes and shade.

#writing #song picks #Lillian Jevasteen #Bella Jevasteen #Jenna McAllister #Spotify

4 notes · View notes

scoonsalicious · 7 months ago

Note

I'm up late because of school stuff and I visited your page to see that you updated early with three parts! and I thought, you know what, I'll have this as my bedtime story (poor judgment because we all know I get so amped up reading this and for sure won't get sleep until I send you my essay) so here I was reading the first three parts of Chapter 26, had my thoughts, went on your page to send an ask and then saw part 5 and I was like....wait what. YOU POSTED TWO MORE? so you ma'am are a blessing (for feeding us all this goodness) and a curse (to my poor sleeping schedule). Thankfully my class isn't until the afternoon. BUT ANYWAYS. what did I say. I FUCKING KNEW IT !!! I KNEW SHE WAS HYDRA. I KNEW SHE HAD ONE OBJECTIVE TO BRING BACK THE WINTER SOLDIER AND SHE WILL STOP AT NOTHING TO GET IT! but okay, let me rewind first.

Can I just say that burgers and fries are the absolute loves of my life and the chocolate milkshake is our son? Please, when he brought that in I was a puddle. I'm a simple girl. Just feed me them crispy potatoes and I'm yours. But seriously, though, he was being so sweet. I mean, I'm not going to applaud him or kiss his feet because it's the least he could've done. But, good on him for taking care of Pocket, not because she asked to, but simply because that's just him. Also, that little snippet of Bucky being jealous yes absolutely. But it's nice to see them in such a calm domestic setting and there's not even a lingering pressure or anything. They're just being friends right now and I'm glad because that's the healthiest way for them to start anew.

Now, Pocket jumping his bones. I mean, I can't blame her. I would've done the same thing. If I had a Bucky in real life I honestly would ride him to the sunset. BUT ANYWAY. Again, I'm not applauding him because it's the bare minimum but I am glad to see Bucky placing that boundary. It truly does show his growth and how much he truly cares about her. Because let's be real, if they had continued and ended up having sex, Pocket is going to regret it right after. It's going to end up hurting them both and they're going to be taking steps back. Bucky made points. Sex between the two of them is never going to be meaningless and right now is definitely not a good time for it because Pocket is still so vulnerable emotionally. If they went ahead, Pocket would've been so so angry at herself and so hurt right after. And I think Bucky realized that and he wasn't going to put her in that position again. Plus he was honest with what he wanted too. And he respects Pocket so much to know that she should be sure of what she wants before he even tries anything. Because after everything, this is all Pocket's call. Everything is going to be at her pace going forward. So good on him for recognizing and respecting that.

But please Nat's cryptic texts like girl just SPILL ALREADY WHY THE DRAMA. I mean it's Nat but still. ANYWAY NOW THE TRUTH IS OUT. JUDAS IS WITH HYDRA. and if I recall correctly, I did say that while she might be in Hydra, she still has an agenda of her own because she truly wanted Bucky for herself too. I mean, Pocket said it. Plenty of opportunities in Russia to take him but she didn't. There could be something more to it (i know there is and Chapter 27 is coming next. SCREAM). But yeah, it is kinda sad how Bucky thinks no one truly wants him or cares about him unless there's some agenda because that truly has been his life for so long.

The sweet interaction between them, the admitance of feelings, that soft little kiss AND Bucky still setting that boundary until Pocket is truly sure of her own wants and needs. I love how confused Pocket is when he doesn't cuddle up with her. Like, girly he's trying to be respectful and wait for you to process things and get your head and emotions straight so there's no confusion or misunderstanding between you two and what you want this relationship to be anymore. He's giving you the time really have a think if you're going to forgive him or not and not try to muddle your opinion with some good ass vitamin D. All jokes aside, Bucky truly is giving her the space and the time to come to terms with her decision all on her own and not at all influence it because whatever she decides, he's going to accept it and respect it. Growth, everyone.

Though I doubt she'd be able to process it any time soon because well. Bucky keeping her in bed to protect her because we all know where Jolenne is heading. I can practically hear the Jaws theme in the back of my head when Nat said she disappeared. But god, it's like the before everything is about to blow up and I don't know if I should thank you for this little breather or be scared about this cruelty because I know shit's about to go down tomorrow and I cannot wait!

Have no idea how I'm going to bed I'm so hyped right now. But hey, consequences of my own actions. I don't regret it at all. You're amazing and thank you for always feeding us with this amazing story. Lots of Love!

— Jnon 🤍

Hi Bestie Jnon!

I'm sorry to have kept you up last night, but if you thought Chapter 26 fed you well, please enjoy all EIGHT parts of Chapter 27 today!

Burgers and fries with a chocolate shake are the surefire way to my heart, most definitely, lol. And Bucky is doing these things because he wants to, not because he expects anything from her, or because he's trying to gain "good boy points," or anything like that. He just wants to take care of her. That's all.

He's definitely putting all the balls in Pocket's court, letting her call the shots and make the decisions. He just wants her to be happy, so he's going to take all his cues from her, but at the same time, he's not going to encourage her to do anything with him unless they're both 100% sure that she wants to. He doesn't want her ever having to regret things with him, again. He would LOVE to give her the Vitamin D, practically to overdose levels, lol, but he knows she's not in the best headspace right now, with everything that went on, and he's not keen on her making bad decisions with him.

And Nat is the QUEEN of drama. She loved having information but hated being ignored, lol. That's why she's such a good spy, lol. Jefferson is pretty much running her own agenda now. Yeah, Hydra sent her to bring back Bucky, but she's too far gone; she wants him for herself, which is why she didn't bring him back to Hydra when she had him in Russia. She just wants him.

Please enjoy Chapter 27!!! <3 I love you!

#unwanted #jnon report

2 notes · View notes

dee-angelb · 1 year ago

Text

Far Away

Since Twitter is annoying, and I really wanted to post the final update and ending of the story…

BKDK single fathers Izuku and Katsuki

______________________________________________________________

The final update!

“Yoshiko! Run!” Izuku stumbles over, falling onto the concrete floor. His knees start to bleed, but his son is still standing frozen at the open door. His eyes wide open, blood smeared all over his face. He is watching something Izuku can't see.

“Yoshiko!” He screams, but it feels muted. He can't hear himself. He can't hear his breathing, his heartbeat. It's like he is drowning. The dark wall crumbles, burying Yoshiko under concrete and darkness. Izuku screams.

He opens his eyes, strong arms holding him up. Red eyes try to calm him down. For a second Izuku thought it was Tomura, but it isn't.

“It's just a nightmare… Izuku…” Katsuki whispers into his ear.

They called Shoto and told him everything. Izuku isn't sure how the police officer can help him, but he told him not to worry.

The next day, Izuku and Katsuki sit in the kitchen, nervously drinking their tea and waiting for something. Anything.

Izuku can’s sleep, and Katsuki’s presence in bed doesn't help him. He is worried, worried about his precious Yoshiko. Worried about what's going to happen.

Katsuro is at the onsen and will stay with his grandparents until the mess is handled.

Izuku got another note with a threat of being ready to face his punishment, which makes him feel even more anxious.

Katsuki looks out the window and sighs. “They are here.” He says.

Out the window, Izuku can see multiple police cars and the familiar white and red hair. He is accomplished by another big police man with fire red hair. They kind of look alike.

“Midoryia.” Shoto greets the green haired boy, as he enters the Bakugou house with his troop of policemen.

“This is my father, he is in charge of-”

“I’m chief Todoroki Enji. I’ve been working on getting the Shigarakis for years now. Nice to meet you.” The older Todoroki bows. Izuku and Katsuki bow back, letting everyone inside.

Izuku stopped listening, spacing out while holding his tea in his hand. He is not interested in getting the Shigarakis, he just wants his son back and safe. But the Todorokis started to plan different scenarios, all including a raid on the younger Shigaraki.

Tomura.

But what about Yoshiko. No one talks about Yoshiko. Izuku was forced to tell them everything he knew about Tomura and as sad as it sounds, he knows nothing about Tomuras work life.

“He is not helping.” Chief Todoroki groans, holding his tablet with all the information they have.

“The fuck? He doesn't need to help, you are the one who should help him!” Katsuki steps forward in front of Izuku to shield him from the officer.

“Show me the note.” The red head roll his eyes. Katsuki hands the note to Shoto instead, not trusting the older man. Shoto nods apologetic and opened it.

“We could work with this.” Todoroki looks over Shotos shoulder.

“How?” Shoto looks up at his father.

“He is about to collect him, we will wire him, let the Shigaraki get him and follow them.”

“No.”

“The Fuck! NO!”

Both Shoto and Katsuki shout at the same time.

“What….” Izuku mumbles his head low, hair falling into his face.

“Speak up, kid, I can't hear you.” Todoroki orders.

Izuku looks up, eyes wet and still red and puffy from all the crying.

“What about Yoshiko?!”

“Don't worry, after getting Shigaraki, he will be back with the authorities.” Todoroki, writes down some notes, not even giving Izuku a glance.

“With me. He will be with me!” Izuku holds his shirt with one hand, clenching the fabric, desperate to hold something.

“My apologies, but I can't help you with that.” He says coldly.

Katsuki scoffs. “You apparently don't want to help at all.”

“Doctor Bakugou, with all due respect. I am doing my job.”

Shoto looks between Katsuki and his father.

“Bakugou, don't worry, I will make sure Izuku is safe.” He nods, determined.

Katsuki shakes his head.

“No, I will be going with him.”

Todoroki finally looks up to give Katsuki a snarl.

“You will be in the way.”

“You will not send Izuku into danger without me. Understood.”

Shoto frowns.

“I don't know what's going on between you two, but Bakugou, you have a kid. Think about Katsuro, you can't just leave.”

“Oh, so you admit it's fucking dangerous to go. So it's okay, to sacrifice Izuku but not me?!”

Shoto holds his hands up.

“No, that's not what I-”

“SHUT UP!” Izuku screams, shocking Katsuki and Shoto.

“Will Yoshiko be saved when I go?!” He asks the older Todoroki with angry tears flowing.

The Chief nods, dumbfounded.

“Then I will do it.” Izuku nods to himself.

“Izuku, I will go with you…” Katsuki puts a hand on his shoulder.

“Kacchan…” Izuku smiles wetly.

“Thank you for believing in me… Thank you for helping me and for not judging me… But this is all my fault. I need to do this alone. Katsuro already lost his mother, he can't lose you too.” Izuku wipes his tears, trying to get his breathing under control.

“Are you dumb? Katsuro loves you, too. He can't lose you and Yoshiko.”

“Kacchan… Yoshiko needs me… I will do this alone, please.” New tears loom to fall.

- - -

No one knows when or how Tomura will try to get Izuku. He got a GPS taped on his body and is forced to walk outside. Katsuki feels uncomfortable with the entire plan, not trusting Todoroki to save Izuku and Yoshiko if needed, but he has to believe that at least Shoto will be there.

Izuku is out of it. He walks around zoned out, his only thought being about Yoshiko.

Is he scared? Is he hungry? Where is he?

“Izuku?” Katsuki squeezes his hand. They are currently walking around the town center. All the other people around them saw everything that happened on the fest. The rumors got worse, the glances got more disgusted. Izuku doesn't even notice, but Katsuki does, and it pisses him off.

“I need to get some stuff for my mother.” He nods toward Granny Chiyos store. Izuku shivers thinking about the old woman.

“I will wait outside.” He rasps out, letting his hand go. Katsuki looks concerned and throws one look at the undercover police car that is following them.

Nodding, he steps inside and lets Izuku wait outside alone.

“Let me go, you fucker! I want my Papa!”

Izuku raises his head, hearing the familiar voice. It's Yoshikos voice, shouting and screaming.

Alarmed, Izuku immediately runs down the street searching for his son.

Something hits his head from behind.

The world around him turns and fades to black.

“Yoshiko…” He whispers and falls to the ground.

- - -

“Izuku?” Katsuki steps out of the store, looking around the street. A bad feeling spreads, and he feels his heart drop, when he can't spot the police car anymore.

Quickly he dials Shotos number.

“Todoroki! He is gone!” He shouts into his phone.

“I know, I’m on my way. I will call you later.” Shoto sounds panicked, which makes Katsuki panic.

“No, tell me where you are! I’m going with you!” He hurriedly walks down the road to his car.

“Bakugou, you can't-”

“I'm a doctor! What if you need medical help? I can be there! Please! He went through enough already, I don't want to leave him alone!”

Shoto sighed.

- - -

“I have to say, I'm not a fan of people playing with my Doll.” Tomuras husky voices into Izukus ear.

Izukus head hurts, warm blood flows down his temple, dropping onto his shirt and floor.

Izuku opens his eyes, Tomuras face inches apart from his. He can feel his breath on his cheeks. A rough hand holds his chin up, in his other hand he holds the GPS devise the police taped on him.

“Do they really think such a cheap trick works?” He scoffs, throwing the GPS on the floor and smashing it.

“Papa!” Yoshiko calls out.

Izuku whips his head to the side, ignoring the pain. There he is. His little sunshine.

“What did you do! I dare you! If you hurt him, I will… I will….”

Izuku frowns, his head suddenly feeling worse. The world around him moving like on a ship.

“You will what? Kill me? You weren't even able to kill a fucking cat!” Tomura laughs.

“Da- Sir! Please stop!” Yoshiko cries.

“I'm fine Yoshiko! Don't worry! Papa will get you out.” Izuku coughs, spitting out blood.

“Doll, there is no way out.” Tomura grins.

Tomura stand up, leaving Izuku tied up and bloodied on the floor. On Yoshikos face spreads fear and terror, seeing his Dad doing all of this. Jin grabs his collar and drags him out of the room. He watches in terror as his father spits more blood onto the ground.

“No, let me gooo!” He screams and Izuku looks up. Their eyes met, and Yoshiko regrets everything he ever said on the fest. He would rather sleep on the floor and shower in the garden as long as he can stay with his Papa.

His face is covered in tears and snot, his hiccups not stopping. Jin drags him down the dark floor and down the stairs. He doesn't know where he is.

With a loud thud, he is thrown into one of the rooms. The door closes as he sits alone in the dark, empty room. It's cold and wet. Crawling on the floor, he hides in one of the corners, putting his head between his legs, rocking back and forth. He tries to think about something happy.

When he was still living with his parents in Tokyo, every time Izuku and Tomura would fight he would hide in his room, and think about the happy day. How his Dad would come home, and they would play video games together. How his Papa would cook his favorite meal and all three of them eat and laugh together.

But every one of these memories feel wrong. Every time he tries to imagine his happy days with his Dad, he sees his Papa bleeding. Sees the angry red eyes of his Dad, looking down on him for crying.

“Happy thoughts, Yoshiko… Happy thoughts…” He whispers to himself.

An image of blonde hair pops up in his head. A warm dining room, curry and two blonds sitting together with him and his Papa. Then the image of handing over tools to Katsuki on the roof. Helping him repair it. An image of Katsuro drinking Papa’s lemonade. Walking to and out of school together with his… Friend… Yeah, Katsuro might be loud and annoying, but he is Yoshikos friend.

Beating up Kotaru, playing on the playground together and going to the summer fest together.

Guilt towers over him. All Katsuro wanted was a friend, a family, and Yoshiko was so mean to him for denying it.

Now he wished he was back at the Bakugou house. He wishes to see them again. His Papa was happy, he was happy. They could have been all happy together.

It's his fault for going with his Dad. He shouldn’t have broken rule number two. He should have trusted his Papa, should have been more open to Katsuro.

Home is where they make a home. They have to work together. His Papa did everything to make this place a home for him, but Yoshiko was too selfish. Selfish for missing his Dad, selfish for wanting to go back to Tokyo.

Shaking his head, he claps his cheeks. The burn letting him focus again.

“Happy thought Yoshiko!” He scolds himself.

- - -

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU LOST HIM!” Katsuki is burning. Burning with anger.

“We didn't lose him, Bakugou.” The older Todoroki rolls his eyes.

“Yes you did! You just said that!” He screams, pulling on his hair. They lost him. Its over. He is dead. He will never have the chance to love him. He never gets the chance to love anyone. Maybe he is cursed? Every time he is ready to love, the one dies?

Izuku doesn't deserve this ending. He deserves everything, but this.

“Bakugou, if you won't stop, I will need to remove you from this mission.” The Chief scold.

“We, didn't lose him. We only lost the GPS signal.” He states.

Katsuki looks speechless, not knowing what to say. Are these people idiots?

Shoto taps his shoulder.

“Don't worry. We already planned that this will happen. There is a second device hidden on Midoryia.” He whispers.

“And you didn't fucking think to tell me this five minutes ago?” He shakes his head, still angry and panicked.

“Sorry, you were screaming…”

Katsuki doesn't care for any of the mission. His only goal is to make sure Izuku and Yoshiko are safe. He is sure the older Todoroki will finally have his Shigaraki hunt finished, but Katsuki doesn't care. Hell, Tomura could die, and he wouldn't care. All he wants is Izuku and Yoshiko.

They drive with multiple cars and enough people to raid the hideout. Katsuki got the command to stay behind and help with first aid if needed. Of course, he will take his job seriously, but he will definitely not stay behind. Shoto gives him a knowing look. The two of them have been friends for a long time now. He knows Katsuki won't sit and wait.

- - -

Izukus mouth feels like cotton. His eyes hurt, his head hurts. Everything hurts. But what hurts the most is his heart. He will never forget the desperate cries of Yoshiko. He needs to save him. He needs to get out of here.

Tomura is not in the room, but someone else is in the room with him. Someone who would never leave his side. Someone who was always there when he called him. Someone he never trusted.

“Jin…” He rasps out, already feeling out of breath. The other doesn't move an inch, standing firm and strong at the door, looking straight at the wall.

“Why…” Izuku tires to plead. Maybe the man has some empathy. Some emotions to feel bad for Izuku. For Yoshiko.

“Why are you doing this?” Izuku moves to sit more on his knees. His back hurts, his lung burns.

“How can you do all of this?” Izukus eyes are on fire. There are no tears left to cry.

“Don't you have family?” His voice wobbled.

Jin clears his throat.

“Tomura is family.” He says monotone, like always.

“All the time we spend together, Jin… Was that nothing?” Izuku coughs.

“You are nothing but Tomuras doll. Now, shut up.”

Izuku looks always. It's fruitless, Jin won't help him. He never helped him.

Moving his hands behind his back, he realizes that his ties aren't as tight as he thought. The room also doesn't really look like a cell. Tomura is underestimating him. He still thinks Izuku is not capable of doing anything. He still thinks Izuku is the naive boy who will run back to him.

He won't kill him.

He is his doll and this is his new doll house.

Scared, he looks around, desperate for a way to get out. He notices a mirror at the other end of the room. Looking at himself, he sees the dried blood, the messed up state he is in.

Suddenly an alarm goes off. Jin immediately leaves the room in a hurry, leaving Izuku alone.

This is his chance. Sliding on the floor, he tries to get something to throw at the mirror. Anything.

But he can't move. His legs are tied too. He can't do anything. He screams and cries. He just wants to get out.

“Dude! We need to run!” Izuku hears voices outside his room.

He screams again to get their attention.

“Did you hear that?” Another voice panics.

The door slides open and two younger members of Tomuras gang step inside.

“Holy shit. Who are you?” One of them asks confused.

“I’m Tomuras lover! Help me get these off! I need to evacuate!” Izuku shouts.

“Lover? Doesn't really look like that…” The other man looks skeptical.

“It's his Kink! Now let me go, or Tomura will kill you!”

At the mention of Tomura killing them, they panic and start to get Izuku out of his ties.

“Where is my son!” He asks in a strong voice.

“The… The young master is downstairs…” One of them stutters. Izuku nods and runs out of the room. He still feels dizzy. He can hear gun shots and fighting. He hears the police screaming outside. But all he focuses on is finding Yoshiko.

“Midoryia!” Someone shouts his name. Izuku ignores it, still running toward the stairs.

A Hand holds him. Turning around, he is met with one gray and one blue eye.

“Shoto?” Izuku asks confused.

“I will get you out of here.” Shoto looks the other up and down, seeing all the blood.

“No, Yoshiko!” Izuku cries, trying to get out of Shotos hold.

The police man feels guilty. He should have done more on the day of the summer fest. He just let everything go. He is not a special officer. He is a small town officer, and his town trusts him. But he let down Izuku. He couldn't help him.

Shoto nods and follows Izuku down the stairs. They step into a long hallway going into different directions.

“Shoto, you go this way and I will look the other” Izuku points to one of the hallways, ready to run again.

“No, wait, this is dangerous!”

“SHOTO!” Izuku sobs, his eyes pleading with him. Shoto caves in and runs in one direction, while Izuku runs the other.

“Yoshiko!” Izuku calls out in hopes his son would respond. He opens on heavy door after the other with zero luck.

Frustrated, he turns around, wanting to run to one of the other hallways. The shooting is still going on outside. The screams didn't stop yet.

Hopefully, he opens the last door in this hallway. Wishing that Yoshiko is in there.

“Dolls, do not run around.” Tomuras deep voice rings through the hallway. Shivering, Izuku stumbles back. His eyes widen, seeing the white hair and red eyes of Tomura.

“Where is he!” Izuku scrams, searching for something to defend himself.

“That's none of your business.” He chuckles, walking slowly toward the frightened green haired boy.

He pulls out a gun. Cold sweat forms on Izukus neck. His heart drops. This is it.

“I really loved you. You never looked at me as someone scary.” Tomura giggles, loading his gun.

“You even shared your chapstick with me.” He looks at the ceiling, nostalgic.

“S-Stop this…” Izuku sobs.

“I will stop this.” Tomura smirks. He raises his hand, gun pointing to Izuku.

The smaller one closes his eyes. He just hopes Shoto found Yoshiko. He just hopes that everyone else is safe.

“OI YOU FUCKER!” Katsuki’s loud voice booms through the hall. Izuku lets out a breath, falling to his knees. Everything will be alright…

Katsuki is here.

And Tomura has a gun…

Loaded…

And Katsuki doesn't know.

Panicked, Izuku stumbles back on his feet. Tomura turns around, wild red eyes locking with angry ruby ones. Tomura points his gun toward Katsuki, scoffing. Katsuki’s eyes widen, but he doesn't stop. He continues to walk.

Tomura pulls the trigger. A loud shot ringing through the hall. Katsuki closes his eyes. He was ready for the shot. Shoto made him wear protection. He was sure nothing would happen to him.

Opening his eyes, his stomach drops.

Izuku cowers in front of him, blood rushing out, making him fall into his own pool of red.

Behind Katsuki policeman rush inside running after Tomura.

The doctor runs next to Izuku, putting his hand on his wounds, starting to do first aid. He holds back his tears. He holds back any emotions he could ever feel at this moment. Izuku needs him. He needs to save him.

“Ka-Kacchan…” Izuku whispers. His eyes falling half shut.

“Stop. I need to concentrate.” Katsuki breaths heavy. His lungs burning and his heart braking. He pulls out his intercom, notifying the others outside, that he needs help. They require the ambulance, which is waiting outside. They need to hurry.

“Ka-Kacchan” Izuku tries again.

“Izuku, please. You can't leave us.” Katsuki hold Izukus hand. Waiting. He is waiting for the help. He can't do more alone.

“Yoshiko?” Izuku asks.

Katsuki nods. “He is with Shoto.”

Izuku smiles.

“Thank you.”

“Thank me at the hospital! Izuku, please hang in there.”

“Kacchan… This fucking hurts…”

Katsuki puts his bloodied hand on Izukus cheeks. Cupping his face between his hands. His eyes can't focus. Looking everywhere but at Katsuki.

“Do… Do you think we would have met if i never went with Tomura?” Izukus exhales.

“What?...” Katsuki’s eyes widen. Izuku trembles all over his body. Angry, he shouts into the still empty hallway.

“HURRY UP, YOU FUCKERS!”

“Kacchan…”

“Izuku, please. You need to focus. Help is on their way…” Katsuki suppresses a sob.

Izukus head falls from side to side.

“Rule number one, Kacchan… Yo-You're only allowed to curse at home…” He whispers.

“Okay, I will stop cursing. We will curse as much was we want at home, alright?”

“I’m sorry…” Izuku raises his shaking hand to put it on Katsuki’s.

“No, don't apologize…” The blond man can't hold the tears anymore. Izuku looks more and more gone. Babbling incoherently. His eyes going out of focus, his pulse getting weaker.

“I wish I would have finished school… Kacchan? Do you think i will be able to finish school in my next life?”

“You can finish school in this life, Izuku.” Katsuki starts to stroke the green colored curls. All softness is gone.

“Mom… I never apologized to her…”

“You can do that too… Please hang in there, my love…” He puts his lips on his forehead, kissing and crying into his hair.

“I wish we would have met earlier… Can we meet again?”

“Izuku…” Tears drop on Izukus blood stained face.

“Kac-... Please… Yoshiko… Ta-ke c’re of h’m…”

Katsuki chokes up. Sobs escaping his chapped lips.

“Do-Don’ cry, Ka’chan…”

“Please stay… Izuku…”

Izuku closes his eyes.

Izuku stands at the clearing, overseeing the mountains. The nature feeling so close to him. The sun illuminating the world in warm colors. Looking and connecting with the mountains, he could never imagine going back to the busy city life.

Next to him stands Katsuki, sharing the beautiful scenery with him together. His blonde hair twirls with the wind, his soft red eyes looking at the horizon. The light gives him a soft halo, his cheeks a bit red from the colder winds. He turns his head and locks eyes with Izuku.

Izuku notices some wrinkles at his eyes. He extends his hand. His lover, without hesitation, holds his hand, squeezing it softly.

One look into Katsuki eyes show him the entire life they lived together. Working at the onsen. Attending Yoshiko and Katsuros graduation. Helping the boys move out. Marrying the love of his life. Getting back in contact with his mother. Everything he wished for happened. Everything he dreamed about became true.

Smiling, he steps closer to Katsuki. If he dies now, he would die happy.

A squeeze on his hand makes him turn his head back to Katsuki. Intense red eyes lock with his. He looks sad but full of love.

“Please stay… Izuku…” The blonde whispers, raising their connected hands, giving his knuckles soft kisses. Confused, Izuku looks at him.

But I’m here?

He wanted to say, but his voice is gone.

Katsuki sobs. His cries echo through the empty hallway.

Izuku closed his eyes.

And with his last breath, Izukus hand falls to his side.

*********************************

Katsuki clings to Izuku, never letting him go. The paramedics finally arrived, but too late. Izuku is not breathing anymore. They all rush to the hospital.

It all goes by in a flash. Katsuki called his parents, telling them what happened. Of course, they rushed to the hospital together with a crying Katsuro. The kid hates hospitals after his mothers' death.

Yoshiko also sits together with Katsuki. The blonde talked to the authority, explaining that Izuku is his father. Luckily, Yoshiko was able to talk for himself. Defending his Papa, and demanding to stay with Katsuki. Since the town is so small, the nice Lady said they will talk after Izuku feels better.

If he gets better.

Katsuki doesn't get any information. Sitting anxiously, he holds Yoshiko close in his arms.

“Katsuki!” Mitsuki calls out to her son. She gasps, seeing the dried blood and messed up state her son is in. Holding up a bag, she pushes Katsuki to the bathroom.

“Clean up and change! I will take care of the kids!” She says.

They all sit and wait for a long time. Nurses and doctor run all over the place, but no one gives them any information on Izuku. No one tells them if…

Katsuki shakes his head, looking over to Yoshiko and Katsuro. The two kids fell into their arms as soon as they saw each other. Yoshiko was a mess, apologizing to Katsuro, hugging him and crying.

Katsuki made a note to himself to contact one of his old friends, who is also a children therapist.

After 20 hours, a doctor enters the waiting room. Katsuki jumping up immediately, prepared to hear the worst.

But the doctor smiles.

“He is alright. We lost him a few times, but it seems like he is a fighter.”

Katsuki exhales, the wight lifting from his shoulders. A dry laugh escapes his lips.

“Well, he is pretty stubborn…”

- - -

A coma. The doctor said he is in a coma, but he is alive. Katsuki spends a lot of time at the hospital together with the kids. Yoshiko moved to the Bakugous. Katsuki even prepared a room only for him.

Katsuki even repaired the old house, together with the help of Ochako and her wife Himiko and Shoto.

Summer turned to autumn. And autumn turned to winter. Izuku was still in a coma, but Katsuki was waiting. Yoshiko was waiting. It was difficult at the beginning, with everyone in town still looking weirdly at the boy and talking shit about Izuku.

Yoshiko had a meltdown because of this in front of granny Chiyos store. Katsuki tried everything to help him, but the looks and whispers were too much. As he was about to explode, to all surprise, it was granny Chiyo who spoke up.

“Can't you see the poor boy crying for his father?! Shame on all of you! Midoryia was always hardworking, doing anything to raise his son well! We should all be ashamed of ourselves for making it harder on the poor boys' life… He doesn't deserve to be in a coma after all he did to make sure his son is safe!”

After that, the town people stopped gossiping. Instead, they tried to help Katsuki and Yoshiko. Making sure that Izuku would feel welcome again after coming back.

- - -

It was two days before Christmas, when Katsuki and the kids were once again in the hospital, visiting the green - not so green anymore - haired boy.

Katsuki was about to clean up the other, when his finger twitched.

“Izuku?” Katsuki gasps.

“Papa” Yoshiko looks up from his book.

Izuku groans, he feels heavy. Like he took a nap, but at the same time he didn't sleep for a week. His head hurts, his ears ring. The last thing he remembers was seeing Tomura pointing a gun at him. Is he dead?

Smacking his dry lips, he groans more and opens one eye after the other.

Looking at the white ceiling, his body weight pushes him more into the mattress. Only that it's not his boy weight. Black curls fall into his vision. His ears still ring, so he can't hear his surrounding. But big red eyes with fat tears falling look at him.

Yoshiko.

“Yoshi…” Izuku whispers. Or he thinks he is whispering.

Behind Yoshiko, Izuku sees two other pairs of red eyes. Smiling, he locks eyes with Katsuki.

“Welcome home, Izuku.” Katsuki says, and Izuku hears him clearly. Tears well up.

Home.

He finally has a home to come back to.

Smiling fondly, he raises his hand to hug Yoshiko. Katsuro also falls into Izukus arms, while Katsuki stands at the bed looking lovingly at his family.

Outside, the dark sky shows all the twinkling stars. Snow falls and twirls with the wind through the trees. A thin layer of snow already covering the earth. The mountains stand tall and proud in th background, waiting to welcome the little family back.

End

- - -

#bkdk #bnha #bkdk fanfic #twitter thread #I will continue this on twitter too #i promise

8 notes · View notes