#January's been a busy month for me in a pleasant way
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noirrelite · 1 year ago
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I gave her a better hat B)
..ok fine you can have the other version ig
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clubdionysus · 8 months ago
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[BAD DECISION #25] January
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warnings: we get jaykay in his student era!!! poor baby is STRESSED!! very wholesome!! b makes him pasta, very lovely <33 until very suddenly it's not!! fingering, mentions of the erotic accordion, lots of teasing. a personal fave!!
wc: 12.5k
bd total wc: 540k (ongoing)
AO3 | MASTERLIST | MINORS DNI
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It's a pleasant surprise to see Kim Taehyung with his clothes on. 
His cheeks are still a little warm when he strolls into the art cafe, well aware that it was his other cheeks you'd been confronted with when you'd seen him last.
Hands in pockets, he plays it off. Is cool and casual, in that suave way artists so often are.
"If you're looking for Danbi, we only live together. Don't work together. Think you'll find her at Memorial Park with half a dozen dogs, maybe" you tease.
He rolls his eyes, and continues forward to the main desk. When he reaches it, he leans an elbow down and looks quite at home. Dressed in a pair of dark slacks and cream button-up, he's a business-casual Capricorn's wet dream. It's entirely understandable why Danbi couldn't resist. You're surprised it's taken her this long, if anything.
"If it was Danbi I was after, it'd be Danbi I was with," he assures you, smile ever-present. He's charming; not like a sleazebag, but like a Disney prince. Always says the right thing. "And anyways, I know she's there. Just been there, myself."
You smile, pleased for your best friend.
It makes sense. She's been with him every night since New Year's. Your apartment has actually been a little lonely.
A week on since you were greeted with his bare arse, you're curious as to why Taehyung would be gracing you with his presence. It wouldn't be entirely out of character, but you are also aware that the last time he was here, it was to pitch his art show.
You remind him of this - not that he needs it, as he passes a business card over to you, embossed with a since hangul syllable: 류.
"Ryu?" You ask. "As in the gallery?"
He nods. "Ryu Gallery."
It's mid-size, a little out of town, but well-respected. Was one of the many galleries that simply didn't get back to Tae - but you have an acquaintance who works there. A friend of Seokjin's, actually. Involved in the finance side of the company. Had invited him along because you figured that there was no harm in asking. Didn't really expect him to show up.
Pulling his phone from his front pocket, Taehyung says nothing as he loads up his call history. At the top, there's a red number - one missed call - and a small play button next to what you assume is a voicemail. He presses down on it, and lets it play out.
"Hello, this is Park Shinwon from Ryu Gallery. I was passed your information by one of our colleagues, and was wondering if you had availability for a call regarding your work? We have an opening at the end of the month and are looking for a local artist to fill the space. If you think this could be a good fit for you, please call me back at the earlie-"
Taehyung cuts the voicemail short. You've heard all the important stuff.
There's a smile on your face; one that brewed gently as the memo played out. He'd done it. The write-ups and reviews had been fantastic, and Namjoon had helped get Taehyung a decent spot in the arts & culture section of the local paper, but this is the first solid indication that the show had been prosperous.
"Holy shit," you beam, clapping your hands together in tiny little pats of joy.
"Right?!" He beams right back. Phone locked and back in his pocket, Taehyung's never looked prouder of himself. You don't know him like you know Jimin or Jeongguk, but you know him well enough to understand how huge this is for him. "I can't even begin to thank yo-"
"No!" You laugh, reaching across the counter to squeeze his arm. "Don't you dare. It was your hard work, Tae. You did this! Congratulations!"
A little bashful in the way he looks down, it's clear that he's not used to such high praise. It's something he'll have to get used to, you think. This is just the start for him. He's destined for greats, you're sure of it - but then again, you have unwavering faith in everyone you care about. You'll manifest for them; will their dreams into reality. You're not sure if it works, but it's nice to think it does.
"Did you call back? What did you say?" You enthuse, before a couple comes to the counter with their finished artwork. Gritting your teeth, you cast Taehyung an apologetic smile. "Ah, just give me a moment."
He nods, and tells you to carry on. He knows he's interrupted you at work and feels bad for it. He could have just waited until he came around that evening (Danbi had already asked if he would), but was too nervous about the call.
When you return from packing up the canvases and ringing through the bill, he admits to it.
"Haven't actually called them yet," he grits his teeth together, eyes apologetic. "Didn't know what to say. It's kinda why I'm here."
"Oh?"
"You can say no," he prefaces, "but like... I don't know the first fucking thing about the suit side of the art world. Don't know how to negotiate, don't even know if that is something I need to be doing. I'm a fish out of water. and you're the only person I know - and trust - who seems to have any clue what they're doing."
It's really sweet that he thinks you have any idea at all. You just wing it a solid seventy percent of the time. You have connections, and you have a functioning brain. That's about it.
Still, you'll let him think that you have your wits about you.
"So..." you encourage, trying to coax a proper question out of him. You know what he's asking, but really think that all of Jeongguk's ragtag bunch of friends could do with learning how to ask for what they want. Maybe not Yoongi. He seems to have shit figured out.
"So..." Taehyung imitates, a friendly grin on his face. He's pretty. Really isn't hard to see why Danbi likes him. She's always gone for the artsy types. Likes to be a muse. "I was wondering if you could help me out a bit? Sort of like an agent, but not quite, 'cause I'm poor as fuck and definitely can't afford it."
"Agents work on commission," you tell him. "Or at least some of them do, so it doesn't matter that you're poor now."
"Well, I might never be rich," he warns you.
Taehyung believes in his work. Loves his work. Is yet to have success that reflects this. Other people don't seem to feel as strongly about it, which leaves him with lingering doubt as to whether or not he actually has something , or if it's all a bit of a vanity project. He hopes it's not. Knows that Rome wasn't built in a day, mind you.
It takes dedication. A hard grind. He's got grit and determination, but the doors he's knocked at have been double-bolted. Thinks that maybe you could give him a key.
"I doubt that very much," you say regarding his doubts. 
Of all the work showcased at the last show, it was his pieces that people kept coming back to. His pieces tagged in the art cafe's Instagram by customers. His pieces that sold; that got people interested. You had even had a girl in the cafe on a date a few weeks ago, who painted a replica of one of Tae's prints, which had been hanging on the wall beside her.
He's got talent.
But he knows that's not enough.
"Still, I didn't even realise agents were paid that way. I've no idea what on earth I'm doing, Disco Ball. Not really."
You take a moment to consider the proposition, but you aren't sure why. It's a no-brainer. Of course you'll help him out. You've contacts, thanks to your job, and acquaintances with money to spend thanks to Seokjin. You'll be an invaluable resource for him - and he'd much rather have a friend leading him through this unchartered territory than someone who only cares about numbers and finances.
"I'll make you a deal," you offer. "I'll help you, free of charge, but on one condition."
"Go on..."
You beam; smile so sweet that Taehyung knows your compromise is probably unconventional.
"I get a Kim Taehyung original."
"It won't be worth anything," he laughs. "It's a rotten deal."
"Not yet, maybe, but it will be," you tell him.
Much like Jeongguk's dreams, you believe in Taehyung's, too. Have no doubt he will achieve success. He's a Capricorn. Is just what they do.
"Alright," he agrees. Holds out his hand for you to shake. "I'll give you a free commission. You can redeem it at any time. Anything, any size, doesn't matter. It's yours."
He makes a mental note to revise this deal as you shake his hand. Doesn't think it's entirely fair on you. Thinks that he's benefitting far more from this than you will - but good, original artworks within your budget are hard to come by. You know your future self will thank you for this.
You tell Taehyung to arrange a meeting with the consultant at Ryu Gallery. 
"I'll go with you as a representative; will ask the right questions, stuff like that. The key here is to not sell yourself short or undervalue your work. If you sell a million-dollar piece for a hundred bucks, it'll set a precedent. People will take advantage. It'll be detrimental."
He nods, eager to learn. Willing to listen. Wants to succeed, and will do all he can to make sure it happens.
Departing only after you force him to call Ryu Gallery back and set a date in the calendar for next week, Taehyung is beyond appreciative. Both Danbi and Jeongguk had told him to reach out to you again, but he'd felt a little guilty, almost as if he was taking advantage of how charitable you are.
You don't really see it that way. Figure that if the roles were reversed, he'd do the same for you.
"Oh, just quickly!" Taehyung pipes up just as he reaches the door of the cafe. "The piece up in Jeongguk's living room - the black and gold one." Your face heats up. "Who's the artist?"
"Not sure," you shrug with an inconspicuous purse of your lips. "Why?"
"Jeongguk just said he got it from here," Taehyung explains, your cheeks only getting rosier and rosier. "I really like it so just wondered if it was part of a bigger collection."
"I can check," you say, knowing that there is absolutely no way you're ever gonna produce another one of those. Now that Tae's asking questions about it, you know Jeongguk needs to squirrel it away. The last thing you want is the truth coming out.
"Amazing," he beams.
You smile right back, but let it fade into a groan as he heads down the stairs, the realisation that he's seen the imprint of your tits leaving you mortified.
It's only fair though, you suppose. You have seen his arse, after all. Maybe you are more well acquainted than you realise.
The lives that you and Jeongguk had lived separately for many moons have somehow converged, meeting a diving point of intervention; as if you were meant to live your lives exactly as you have, just for moments like these.
This is only amplified when you arrive at Jeongguk's place after your shift finishes.
On New Year's day, after the creation of his sticky note shrine, origami birds watching proudly, you'd reached an agreement with Jeongguk: each and every one of the sticky notes have to be done by the end of the year.
"What about the birds?" Jeongguk had asked, not wanting to sacrifice them.
You both know the birds hold far more weight. The sticky notes are fun; a chance to experiment freely with somebody who is on the same page as you. The birds are all about preparing yourself to turn the page, so you can meet someone willing to start a new book with you.
Curled up in his bed, while Jeongguk had been sitting on his bedroom floor putting together a display box for a new 'sculpture' (because he refuses, still, to let you call them action figures) that he'd been gifted for Christmas, you had contemplated his question.
"The birds fall naturally," you'd hummed. "They drop when the universe needs them to. The sticky notes are deliberate. We're making the active choice to do them."
Cross-legged, Jeongguk reached over to get a small screwdriver from his bedside table. Your gaze had been up on the birds, but drifted down to him.
"So we'll make the active choice to do the sticky notes, and then just do the birds when they fall?" Jeongguk had clarified, not looking at you as he threaded a small screw into its hole.
"Yeah," you'd smiled. "Like, I come round once a week, and we get a sticky note done. Something like that."
Looking up at you now, Jeongguk had tilted his head in contemplation, pursing his lips before finally nodding. "Shall we say Sundays?"
With a slight sense of trepidation, but the awareness of this being good for you both, you had nodded. "Sundays. Trial it for the month of January. See how it goes."
And so now you're at Jeongguk's place for the first time since New Year's with a clear agenda - and yet all you really want to do is hang out with him. Innocently. Platonically.
"Oh thank God," Jimin breathes out with an overdramatic sigh of relief when he opens the door for you. Shoes on, jacket slung over his shoulders, he's been waiting on your arrival. "Jeongguk- '' he calls back into the darkness. None of the living area lamps are on, the city lights illuminating their apartment instead. "The babysitter is here! I'll be gone till morning. Don't be any trouble."
You roll your eyes, flicking his arm as you step past him into the apartment.
He's heading out for a family event down in Busan. Jeongguk had been intending on going to the city with him, but simply has too much school work to do.
Finals are coming up. He's stressed to the absolute high heavens.
"I will warn you," Jimin says quietly while you take off your shoes. "He's in a foul mood. Has been for, like, three days now. Think it's his time of the month."
"Still baffles me how you're able to pull," you mutter, knowing that any explanations on the intricacies of the menstrual cycle would be wasted on him - only for Jimin to remind you that he pulled you . "Was a moment of weakness," you assure him.
"Yeah, yeah, whatever you say DB," he grins. "Look after him alright? Make sure he eats his veggies and brushes his teeth before bed."
Jimin departs faster than the winter wind that's howling against their windows. You don't even have a chance to question why he's treating Jeongguk like such a child - but as you walk into his bedroom, you sort of see why.
His bed's unmade, and he hasn't showered since, like, Thursday, maybe. Papers are scattered all over his desk, and there's a collection of takeout boxes by his door. The birds that were on his desk are now perched up on the shelf, laying in the middle of his chessboard. Beside them, a pot of your misplaced glitter sparkles in the dim light.
Quite unlike himself, Jeongguk's jaw looks sharper but his cheeks are bloated. You can tell he hasn't been eating nor drinking enough. Has a can of Monster on his desk, but you both know it's not enough to sustain him.
He really does look like a university student now, more than he ever has done before. Glasses on, hair tied in a tiny bun by the nape of his neck, teeth nibbling down on his bottom lip, the stress is evident in his sloped posture.
"Don't look at the mess," he mumbles, embarrassed that you have to see his room in this state, but also too preoccupied to really care.
You meander to his bed and sit down, one leg crossed beneath the other. Smile. "Too late."
"Sorry," he offers, but you shake your head - not that he's looking at you.
"S'fine," you hum. "If tonight is bad for you, we can always resched-"
"No," he says rather sharply, finally turning to look at you. His eyes are all wide and wanting, hating the idea of you leaving so soon, but they're also tired . He needs rest. "No, sorry." He puts down his pen, and turns in his chair a little. "I'm probably gonna be shitty company, but I'd like you to stay."
And so you nod. Of course you'll stay.
"Your hair looks sweet like this," you muse a little mindlessly as you come to stand by him, letting your index finger twirl in the curl that sticks out from the small bun.
His hair is always silky smooth, and you're envious of how well-nourished it is. A little curly, he definitely visits the salon every once in a while. You find it all very endearing, imagining him with a little salon cape around his shoulders, protectors over his ears, curlers in his hair.
"Needs a wash," he simply states, not wanting to dwell on the compliment that makes his tummy feel all funny. He's not really used to such delicate compliments.
Jiyeong would always comment on his physical strength, manliness, shit like that. Hardly surprising, given that she works at the gym. It's not just her though - Hayun's favourite part of him was always his upper arms.
He's no idea what you like about him. What attracts you to him - 'cause as much as you both like to pretend you're a bit repulsed by one another, there's obviously gotta be some sort of mutual attraction. The sex is too good.
Unless, he considers, it's all just chemical. Hormonal shit he doesn't understand, but knows plays an important role in chemistry. Maybe you aren't physically attracted to him at all.
"Wish my hair looked that good when it needs a wash," you sigh.
"I've never seen it look bad," he says, not thinking much of it.
"Well, I'd hope not," you smile. "I do know how to shower."
"I've got some things just to finish up - shit ," he curses as he realises just how much of a mess his room is. "I'm sorry. Been at work today, haven't you? Can grab a shower if you like, or something while I do this."
'This' is test revision. Coursework never really stresses him out, even if he does leave it until the last minute. He has more control over the variables. Exams make him nervous, and if there's one feeling Jeongguk hates, it's nervousness. Figures if he studies and studies and studies, then he'll feel prepared, and the nerves will ease. It never works. Only ever makes it worse.
"You sure?" you ask, though if you're being honest, a shower right now would be ideal. You got paint all over you at work, and while most of it washed off in the sink, you still feel a little less than fresh. "Or is this some backhanded way of telling me my hair looks shit?"
"Oh, 100%. You look awful. But also, yes. I'm sure," he smiles, soft eyes patient as he tries to push the pressure of his studies to the back of his mind. He hasn't seen you all week. Has missed you. Is glad you're here. Kinda hates that he's telling you to leave him, already, even if it's only for twenty minutes or so.
"Gonna join?" You ask, not really thinking much of it. Just a habit, now.
Jeongguk shakes his head. "Will get one later."
There are two distinct halves to Jeongguk's fear of rejection. The obvious, most notable half is the part of him that hates the feeling of being rejected, which prevents him from asking for what he wants. 
Far less discussed is the part of him that feels like he always has to say yes, because he doesn't ever want to make other people feel bad.
Just like he never fears rejection from you, he doesn't fear your reaction to his rejection, either. There's a stable foundation to your friendship. It's good for him.
So used to transactional relationships with the girls he's slept with - on their part, not his - he doesn't really realise that this - what you two have - is normal. It's how it should be.
And so when you smile, and say 'okay', Jeongguk almost expects you to start fighting with him.
It's been a few days since he spoke with Jiyeong ( where it was firmly established that she ended it with him, and that he was the problem, not her) but lingering patterns of behaviour still plague his mind. Feelings of failure still reside in the part of his brain that deals with desire.
You believe him when he says he won't join. Don't try and tempt. Tonight isn't about that - though you do glance over to the myriad of sticky notes on his bedroom wall before you grab his towel. Pay no notice to the fact there's a new one. Just as fluffy - exactly the same, you think - it's still wrapped in a sleek bow with the tag on it.
Maybe he's gotten annoyed with how often you use it. Maybe you're just such a permanent fixture that two seems like a good idea. You don't ask about it.
Instead, you also grab one of his shirts - the one with his hand prints on it. Paint markers have been taken to the shirts since, now outlining where his bones would be. The skeleton hands make you laugh - but they also get you thinking about that shower with him.
Shaking the thoughts from your head, you leave Jeongguk to get on with his studies.
As you start the shower up and relieve your hair from the claw clip it's up in, you aren't too concerned with him joining. You genuinely do want to shower. Leave the door open just in case, but don't wait for him like you did the last time you were in the same position.
It turns out showers are far quicker when you're solo. You leave it without the feel of his hands on your body, but the scent of his strawberry shower gel still stains your skin. Feels like you're perpetually covered in him, in a roundabout way.
Scrunching your hair with his towel as you head back into his room, your clothes are still in a pile on his bathroom floor. You're just in the shirt now, bra foregone, underwear on to maintain some kind of decency.
You don't really greet him, instead heading to the window to take in the view. You're always envious of the skyline. It makes you consider moving closer to the inner city - but you're quite comfortable in your low-rise with Danbi. Plus, you can always just come and hang out here if you find yourself missing it.
Jeongguk says nothing as he comes to stand in behind you; personal space void of any meaning between the pair of you. Chin resting on your head, he drapes his arms over your shoulders.
You whisper a small greeting, and he whispers one back, but neither of you make conversation. Instead, you just watch the traffic roll on by. 
His eyes are down by the traffic lights, watching as a small crowd forms, a red light preventing them from crossing even though the road is clear. Yours are a little higher up, on the motel that is hidden between two skyscrapers. The curtains are mostly all drawn; save for one, where a couple stands in a position hauntingly similar to yours and Jeongguk's. They're smiling. Joking about something. Enjoying one another company - until the person standing in Jeongguk's position draws the curtain shut to keep the world at bay.
Maybe they're friends, too, you hypothesize - but friends don't book in love motels together, and if they do? Well, they certainly don't look like that together.
It's not like it's a new concept to you. You understand the conventions of couples; just think that maybe the line between romantic and platonic is far finer than you previously believed. Reckon that you and Jeongguk have a clear sense of it.
Turning in your spot, you wanna get a read on his face; see if you can gauge what he's thinking, what he's feeling. He doesn't move back as you turn. Stays in position. Doesn't mind the closeness.
Just an inch or so away from you, the proximity forces you to tilt your chin upwards in order to catch his gaze. His own chin is tipped to his chest, looking down at you in the gentlest of ways.
Storm clouds of mascara rest faintly beneath your lash line, and the occasional rivulet of water trails from your hair and down your skin like spring rain. Your typically tempestuous attitude is nowhere to be seen; docile in the calm of Jeongguk's mellow summer air.
Silent as the pads of his fingers stroke down the side of your neck, you're well aware of the fact you're not really breathing. Are too consumed by trepidation. Fearful and yet hopeful of what's to come. His firmly pouted lips part slowly - but he doesn't lean down.
Instead, his fingertips hook beneath the chain around your neck, and slowly begin to twist it back into position. The clasp had fallen to the front, excess chain tangling around the charm.
Jeongguk holds the dainty silver bird where it should be, between your collarbones, his touch feathery as he preens you.
Cautious and yet entirely confident, he doesn't mean to steal your breath - but it's only fair. You took his first.
His lip purse. Fold in on themselves. Lip ring does the thing. Adam's apple bobs as he swallows back a feeling he doesn't quite know what to make of.
And then he simply nods. Steps a little further back. Smiles. "There. Much better."
A discreet smile ghosts your lips as he turns away from you to get back to his work. Revision always gets him in this weird of constant contempt; stressed at the world around him even when he needn't be. Gets him antsy. Agitated.
His stress manifests in hunched shoulders and restless legs which jitter beneath his desk.
He tries to ignore the twinge of guilt in his chest as you leave the room without a word. Knows that he must be terrible company. Wonders why he can't just express himself normally.
Contrarily, you worry that Jeongguk just wants to be alone, and that your presence is overbearing. He could have cancelled plans if he wanted to. You wouldn't have minded. Sure, you've missed hanging out with him, but it's not the end of the world. Is probably good to have a little bit of a breather from one another every now and again.
Fixated on the fact you feel like a bother, you set about making yourself useful. He looks like he hasn't had a decent meal in a good while, and the boys keep their fridge remarkably well-stocked for a couple of bachelors with a penchant for nightlife.
Jeongguk listens out for you, still doing his work. Can hear you rummaging about in the fridge, and wonders what on earth you could be doing. Figured that the pair of you would just order in, or something like that.
Truthfully, you'd thought the same - but they've got a stockpile of tomatoes, and chicken that needs using. Without Danbi at home much this week, you've overindulged in take-out and snack foods a few too many times. You need a good meal just as much as he does. 
Glancing over to the hob, you check the pasta in the glass jar next to Jeongguk's chopping board. They're out of spaghetti, save for maybe ten strands, but thankfully have a full jar of rigatoni.
You know you can thank Jimin for the decanted pasta. The more you learn about him, the more you understand why his bedroom is so bare despite his job. He calls it 'intuitive interior design' - making life easy for himself through deliberate choices. It's why his bedroom is so streamlined. Less clutter means he can reset his brain more easily.
The living space is where the colour of the apartment is - Tae's paintings, photobooth strips, feather boas stolen from Dionysus - but the kitchen is laid out in a way that makes things easy for both of the boys.
You set about getting the things you might need, not really caring to ask Jeongguk's permission. Whatever you use, you'll happily buy again in the morning, but also highly doubt he'll ask you to. At least this way, he won't have to waste perfectly good ingredients on account of them rotting away in the bottom of the fridge.
You're chopping the tomatoes by the time Jeongguk comes to stand in his doorway. 
Leaning against the frame, a hand in his pocket, a soft smile on his lips, he's a little confused. Just watches as domestication becomes you; stars forming on your cheeks when the low glare of the overhead lights hits you just right. Hair still a little damp, it's up with a claw clip, small strands framing your face. You've the speaker on quietly, not wanting to disturb him. Some song he doesn't know by an artist he doesn't recognise plays. All he knows is that he likes it. Likes how comfortable this feels.
Jeongguk has missed you. Has been working to the point of exhaustion, but unable to sleep whenever he goes to bed. Looking at you now, he tries to stifle a yawn. Is glad you haven't noticed his presence, 'cause he knows the face he just pulled wasn't pretty.
But he thinks you are.
The fact he feels like he could sleep now? A curse, he decides. Doesn't wanna sleep. Wants to spend all evening catching up with you.
You're using the side of the knife to gather the chopped tomatoes together, and scooping them into a bowl, when you finally notice him.
"Hey," you say, a smile present as always. Such a simple word, but such a comforting one, too.
"Hey," he smiles back. "Watcha doin', B?"
"Baking a cake," you joke as you begin to peel some garlic from a bulb.
"Mhmm? Tomato cake," he says, pushing off the doorframe with his shoulder and making his way to the kitchen island. He stands opposite you, resting his elbows on the counter, chin in his hands. "My favourite."
The way your eyes sparkle under the warm lights that hang down from the ceiling has Jeongguk thinking of the stars again. His are all starry too, but you think that's just normal for him.
"Good," you say. "I'm making you your very own tomato cake. You have to eat it all ."
"I will."
"You better."
"Every last crumb," he nods - and even though tomato cake sounds absolutely repulsive to him, his stomach rumbles. Makes you laugh.
"When did you last eat?" you ask as you turn to the hob to fetch some spices off the rack.
Jeongguk mumbles. Says he doesn't really remember. Your eyes are sympathetic, frown present when you face him again.
"Gotta look after yourself," you tell him.
"I know. I will. I am - it's just, this exam, Byeol... I'm bricking it."
You had figured as much, but it's nice to have him confirm it instead of letting your assumptions take the lead.
"S'why I chose a coursework exclusive degree," you tease, trying to lighten his mood. "Was heaven."
"I'm so glad we didn't know each other back then," he laughs. "Would have resented you so badly."
You grimace, and give him a look he doesn't understand.
"You're BEM boy," you explain, shortening his Business and Events Management course name to the acronym that it's more commonly known by on campus. And then you shudder. "We wouldn't have been friends."
"Oh, bullshit," he protests. He knows boys on the full-time BEM course have a reputation amongst the alumni. Fuckboys . He's part-time, though. Doesn't run with those crowds. Is a good few years older than most of them, now.
"Nope," you argue back, still pottering about the kitchen, adding more ingredients to the saucepan. "If you'd have been in uni at the same time as me, I'd have avoided you like the plague."
"Would have been your loss."
Doesn't wanna blow his own trumpet, but knows that he looked damn good at 21. Considers it his peak. Forgets 23, and the amount of girls falling at his feet (was too busy at the time, face down by Hayun's feet instead). Simply doesn't realise how good he looks now, at 25.
Maybe 18-year-old Jeongguk was a little awkward, granted, but everyone is at that age. Whenever he used to visit his friends on campus for nights out, the girls they knew would always want to go out with them.
It's actually how he met Hayun. Was 19, and Taehyung had just done a project with her and Nabi for some extra credit. She came on a night out, and he got so nervous around her that he decided to black out just so he didn't have to feel the nerves. He'd woken up the next morning face down in a kebab box on the floor of Nabi and Hayun's dorm.
He resigned himself to the friend zone, and for a while, it had worked. For years, in fact. Convinced himself that they really were just friends. Best friends. Had offered to shag her after she'd spent a solid twenty minutes complaining about the fact she hadn't had sex for long she may as well have been a born-again virgin. Was just joking - but when she called his bluff, Jeongguk folded.
Maybe it wouldn't have been your loss at all. 
Maybe you'd have never become friends, like you are now. 
Maybe you both had to live through your traumas to be able to find one another.
You just scoff, unaware of memory lane taking Jeongguk down an unfavourable path. " Sure . My first uni hook-up was with a guy doing BEM. Trust me. I would have avoided you."
"Oh?" Jeongguk questions. "Do I know him?"
Shaking your head, you turn to place the pan on the stovetop, and let it heat up. "Doubt it. Was a final year when I was a fresher, so would have been gone way before you started."
Jeongguk's brows furrow, now. "When you were a fresher? A final year?"
Humming confirmation, you carry on with your cooking.
"He was supervising the fresher's bar crawl," you explain. Can't even remember his name, now. Can barely remember anything about that night. "Was leading my team. I lost against him in a drinking game. Really couldn't handle my drink back then. Anyways, I ended up in some off-campus house with the most vom-inducing hickies known to man."
"So you were drunk?"
It sounds a little accusatory. He doesn't mean to. It's just that he deals with creeps taking advantage of drunk girls all the time. Hates it. Hates thinking it happened to you.
"Yeah?"
"And he wasn't?"
"He was less so. Was still drinking, but yeah, it wasn't my best decision."
The way you shrug it off frustrates Jeongguk. His lips purse a little, and the dimples reserved for moments of contemplation deepen in his cheeks.
"You know what it's like when you're eighteen," you continue, facing away from him, unaware of his obvious contempt. "First taste of freedom and all that. Think you're invincible. And like, I made worse choices that year," you add, as if that's supposed to soften the blow of what you've just told him.
His tummy feels all twisted; as if his body is trying to manifest the concept of time travel just so he can go back and apply for university when everyone else did. Wants to have been your friend right from the start. Wants to erase the reality of creeps taking advantage of you.
"Still a kid at eighteen," he says. Strange, how he doesn't afford his past self the same kindness. "It's so young."
You shrug, turning back around to retrieve the extra vegetables for the sauce. "Easy to think that, looking back. Thought I had the world figured out, at the time. The older I get the more naive I realise I was."
Funny, how years and years later, you feel more clueless than you ever did back then. Relationships were black and white; you either loved someone, or you didn't.
Now, the concept of love you once knew isn't one that you're entirely sure you believe in. Not in the same way you did.
"Anyways, you should shower," you say, moving the conversation along. No point dwelling on pasts that make no difference, now. "You look like shit."
He reaches over to one of the spare tomatoes and throws it in your direction. Smiles when you try to swat it away, only for it to hit your neck regardless.
"Charming as always, Byeol," he says a little dryly, but with his smile still wide.
"Well, you do," you assure him, face straight, eyes earnest.
"Show up at my place, use my hot water, start rummaging around in my fridge-" he says with a tsk .
" You invited me," you scoff right back. " Told me to shower, and I'm cooking for you . Christ alive. You really are unbearable today."
The grin on Jeongguk's face is so pretty, eyes so sparkly, that you think you want to kiss him again. Silly little thought in your silly little head. Silly, and improper, and dangerous. Disastrous, in fact.
"And," you add on, because you know you need this conversation to end. "You stink. So go and get a shower, you horrible boy."
Feeling somewhat challenged, Jeongguk lifts his arm above his head and nestles his nose right into his pit. Inhales, as if he's smelling freshly baked pie. Smiles. "Ahhhh. Delicious."
You gag.
"You wanna smell?" he offers, leaning a little further on the counter, face sweet as he encourages you. The look of repulsion on your face is exactly what he was after. "Yeah?"
"Keep that pit away from me," you warn, holding up the knife you had used to chop the tomatoes.
Despite the threat, Jeongguk edges around the kitchen island. "Yeah? Wanna smell?"
"Stay the fuck away!"
"Wait, I didn't hear you. You said come closer?"
"Gguk!"
For all your protests, the knife is back down on the counter. You tossed it down so you could run from him, but you're not really trying all that hard.
You'll pretend like you are. Wriggle from his grip when he catches you. Try and hide your laugh as he tries to quite literally smother you. Will pinch his nipple through his shirt as a form of defence. Will gag, and whine, and pretend like this is the worst experience of your life.
But in the comedown of Jeongguk's chase, you both giggling, caught in an embrace that is far too close, sauce simmering away without a care, you'll notice the stars in his eyes again. Count the constellations. Forget how to breathe, as if you really are in space without any oxygen.
"You smell like a sweaty ballsack," you tell him with absolute certainty.
Yet your grip on his shirt doesn't ease.
"You look like a sweaty ballsack," he counters. Swallows.
Neither of you pull away. Apparently, you're both partial to a sweaty ballsack. Who'd have thought?
On a fundamental, human level, you're aware that Jeongguk doesn't smell great. He is sweaty and definitely has worn that shirt for like, three days in a row, but... you like it. Oh it's disgusting . Really fucking horrid. Rancid, even.
"Shower," he just says, softly, as if he's reminding himself of what he needs to do.
You nod. "Shower."
But your hands are still holding the sides of his shirt, and his eyes can't seem to focus on yours because they keep dropping to your lips, and then his breathing is all over the place and so is yours and - fuck .
Loosening your grip, you pat the front of his chest. He doesn't move. Just closes his eyes. Nods.
"I need to check the sauce," you whisper. "Go. Shower."
And so he does as he's told. You keep yourself busy tinkering about until you hear the shower start up - at which point, you rest your palms on the counter and let your head hang between your shoulders. Sigh deeper than Marianas Trench. Shake your head. "Stupid."
You're unaware, but he's doing the exact same thing by the bathroom sink.
It had been fine. It had been fun. Why did I have to linger like that? Why did I have to make things weird? Why am I always making things so awkward?
He tosses his clothes down on the pile by the door, his on top of yours, and instantly feels a little bit better when the water hits his skin. Tries not to dwell on it, 'cause if he pretends moments like those don't happen, he won't have to deal with them. Will gaslight himself into thinking it never happened.
You're on the couch by the time he's done with his shower, legs curled up, pasta cooked and waiting in a covered saucepan for him.
"Not eating?" he asks as he notices there's no evidence of you having pasta on the coffee table.
Glancing over to him, you're reminded of post-shower Jeongguk and why the concept of it is so dangerous for you. Towel wrapped around his waist, water trailing down his abs... Yeah. You lose your mind a little. Think that any sane human would also lose theirs.
"I, uh-" you pause. Swallow. "Um. Sorry. Eat?"
"Yeah," he smirks, a little bemused. Figures you were lost in the show you're watching. Still in his shirt, your hair is pretty much dry, now, slight waves framing your face while the rest of it is still pinned back in a claw clip. You really do need to decide what you're doing with the colour. The bleach is growing out far faster than you thought it would, but you can't commit yourself to getting rid of it. Jeongguk likes the slightly messy nature of it all. Thinks it suits you. "No pasta?"
"Oh," you enthuse when you realise what he was asking. "Was just waiting for you."
He apologises. Says you should have started without him. Says he wouldn't have minded it, and thanks you again for cooking. "Smells amazing."
Quick to throw on some clean clothes, Jeongguk shoos you out of the way when he gets back to the kitchen and finds you about to plate up. Insists he does it. You've done all the hard work. He's happy to wash up, but he wants to at least contribute now.
Jeongguk takes a single bite of the pasta before he stands up, retrieves the saucepan and a heat mat, then sets it down on the coffee table.
"You okay there?" you laugh, a little puzzled by him.
When he turns to look at you, as if you've betrayed him. "You never told me you could cook, B."
He had been expecting a regular, run-of-the-mill tomato pasta - nothing wrong with that, he would have enjoyed it - but this? Oh, this is as close to heaven as humans get through food. It's rich and spicy, but also a little sweet and tangy when it needs to be. The rigatoni is cooked just right. Just how he likes it.
"You can't?" You laugh, digging into your own bowl. Admittedly, it is banging. Your favourite comfort recipe, you're quietly overjoyed that he likes it.
He shakes his head to say no. Has always enjoyed cooking. Knows he'll have to make you his signature pork belly one day. If you end up staying tonight (which he's hoping you will, even if he is awful company at the moment), he'll cook breakfast.
"I can - I just... fuck me, Byeol," he almost moans. "This shit is good."
Jeongguk's always had a good stroke game, but when it comes to stroking your ego? Yeah, he ain't bad at that, either.
He also isn't bad at turning himself into a literal human hoover. It's a miracle he doesn't choke, or get heartburn. He's already nearly polished off the leftovers from the pan before you've even made it halfway through your bowl (of which he had filled to the brim, because portion control with a body like his doesn't apparently matter).
Pasta eaten - or in Jeongguk's case, absolutely demolished - he allows himself the luxury of switching off for the first time all week. Other than a quick gym session here and there, or coffee with Hayun towards the start of the week, he hasn't taken a moment to relax at all.
You're rabbiting on about something inconsequential, just letting him exist. You know it's been a hard week. The television plays in the background, big light turned off, your feet in his lap. He stokes a little mindlessly over your ankle, self-soothing for him and just as comforting for you. He's meant to be listening, but zoned a little while ago.
Initially, he was thinking about the weird moment between you both in the kitchen earlier, but tried to get it out of his head.
Ends up thinking about the BEM twat you mentioned earlier, instead. Thinks you've got horrible taste in men - or at least, in hookups. He knows both he and Jimin could be classified in that category, but he disregards that. Or at least, he disregards himself .
At least he makes you orgasm. If he asks, will probably be horrified by the amount of times you've gone without one during intercourse. It's not always, but often. Never with him though, which is nice.
Scares you a little bit. The idea of the best sex of your life being with someone who isn't romantically involved with you just doesn't sit right. What if you fall in love and Jeongguk is still the best you've ever had? Will you be comparing? It's a variable you're yet to test out. One that worries you.
But all Jeongguk can think about is the fact that you're his friend. And he cares about you. And he thinks you deserve to feel good. And knows he can do that. And that he wants to do that. And so, quite suddenly, Jeongguk interrupts you.
"Can I get you off?"
You almost choke on your own spit. Had been explaining a new discovery of ancient mammals using tools for hunting and cooking. Not the most enticing topic of conversation, to say the least.
"Sorry?" You laugh, taken aback by the sudden request.
He looks away. Looks at his hands. Looks back at you. Wishes he wouldn't let the impulsive thoughts win, sometimes.
But then, because apparently he's a fucking idiot with no self-control, he asks again. "Can I get you off?"
The answer is always, unabashedly, yes . You've been caught off guard though. Panic. Ask, "Why?"
He shrugs. Looks at his hands again, eyes wide, brows furrowed. Wants to pour boiling water in his ear to melt his brain. Would probably work better if it was mush, he thinks. A reply to your question sits on the tip of your tongue, but there are too many variations for him to choose from - Because you deserve it. Because I'm horny. Because I want to. - so he just says: "fun."
And, like, he's not wrong. It is fun. You just thought it would be the last thing on his mind, given how stressed and sleepy he's been.
"I mean, do you want to?" you laugh, a little hot beneath the shirts of his that you're wearing by the mere suggestion of it.
He shrugs. Thinks it's a stupid question. Nods. "Get your minge out."
The horror plastered all over your face wouldn't be out of place in a Hitchcock film.
"Get my minge out?!" You hiss, your repulsion only second to shock.
"Yeah," he smirks. Is deliberately being vulgar because it's funny, and he needs this to be anything but romantic. Will lose his fucking head if he starts thinking about stars and constellations and shit like that again - but fuck . Even after a shower, you're covered in glitter! He can never fuckin' win. Is in a constant state of war with his own head. How can he ever expect to win against the milky way in human form? You'll eclipse him one day, and he'll enjoy every second of it.
"It's almost like you don't want me to get wet," you tell him, as if you didn't feel a slight twinge in your stomach when he smirked. Wasn't your fault. His lip ring did the thing. You're only human. Was bound to happen.
"I think you're already wet," he says all rather plainly.
"That's beyond the point."
It's a satisfying answer. One that makes him feel all smug. Gets his cock a little twitchy.
"Look, I'm stressed, B," he admits. "There's so much going on in my head that I can't think straight. Getting you off is, like, a stress reliever."
You furrow your brows. "Surely getting yourself off is a stress reliever?"
"I can do that at the same time, if you want?" He says, cheeky in the way he raises his eyebrows and toys with his lip ring.
"You are such a boy."
"So is that a no?"
That's the thing about you and Jeongguk; you'll never reject him.
In fact, it's probably quite futile for his whole fear of rejection thing. That'll be a thought to battle with later, though.
"It's an 'ask nicely' ."
Jeongguk gently squeezes your ankle, before getting to his feet and piling the pasta bowls into a neat stack. "Let me just wash up, alright?"
You watch him as he walks away not even waiting for a response. He does it often; wants your approval of things he's already determined to do. It's sweet, in a way. Could be frustrating, given the right circumstances, but it hasn't been so far. You just kinda keep your gaze on him, confused at how a man so reserved and cautious in one moment can be so reckless and charming in the next.
"Byeol?" He hums, flicking on the tap and reaching for the dish soap.
"Hmm?" You hum right back.
"Go wait in my room."
It takes you a second or so to follow his commands. Earns a minuscule plea from him. "Please, B."
You can't refuse him. Not really. Never have been able to.
His room is still a mess. Glitter-tarnished pillows clue you into the fact that he hasn't washed his sheets since new years - but then you remember the fact he definitely changed the bottom sheet. Colour floods to your cheeks, memories of that night crashing to the forefront of your mind.
You try to forget about it. Forget the kisses. Forget the way it sounds when Jeongguk calls you ' baby '.
This? Now? Nothing more than a stress reliever. ' Fun '.
You neaten up his bed, and tuck the takeout boxes out of sight. Turn on his cosmic mood lamp, but leave the curtains open. You preen yourself in his mirror. Realise there's something missing, so retrieve the little pot of glitter from his shelf.
The remains of the day's glitter are all over your skin, but the shower had cleansed your eyes of it. Makes you feel naked. You hate it - so quickly stipple a little in your inner corners and beneath your lash line.
It's funny. When you take off the shirt of his that you're wearing, and toss it over the back of his chair a moment later, you don't feel naked. Feel perfectly yourself. A glitter girlie through and through.
Jeongguk stops in his tracks as soon as he reaches his door frame. You're standing on the other side of his bed, a coy smile on your lips
"Fuck."
His eyes are all over you, tongue wetting his bottom lip before his teeth press down on it. Something about your body really gets him. It's likely the memories - knowing how your skin tastes, how soft your tits are and how hard your nipples can get, the pressure of your lips on his neck - that gets him even stiffer in his sweats.
He really underestimated the consequences of telling you to get your minge out. Should have thought about that.
"You're gonna kill me one day," he mutters as you get onto the bed with almost feline elegance. He walks a little closer. Meets you by the corner of his mattress. Doesn't object as you palm him through his sweats. Sighs into your touch. "God."
Perfectly poised to suck his dick, you both know that you could. He wants it. Wants it so badly he can't even begin to articulate a request.
But it's not about him. Not even when your lips press pretty kisses against the outline of his cock.
He's making you cum. He has to. Will die if he doesn't.
"On your back," he husks. "Spread your legs for me."
There's a pout on your lips, but you do as he says. When your back hits his sheets, your tits pillow on your chest, perfectly round and desperately in need of his lips around your nipples. Legs open for him, one of your hands dips to your pussy while the other cups one of your boobs. Middle and forefinger spreading your wet lips for him, you feign a little innocence.
"This what you want?"
All he can do is nod, eyes transfixed on just how good you look. Wetness seeps from you, covering you in the most glorious sheen. You're always so wet for him. So ready. So willing.
You massage yourself a little for him. Toy with your clit. Whine probably more than you really need to.
Standing at the end of his bed, cock furiously hard in the strained material of his sweats, Jeongguk wraps his hands around your ankles. Yanks you further down his bed. Gets you all giggly.
He doesn't loosen his grip straight away. Instead, he lifts your legs. Rests your heels on his shoulders. Reaches down to squeeze your boobs. Grunts. "Fuckin' tits, man."
You're grinning, still. "What of them?"
He shakes his head. Grins, too. "Fuckin' corrupted me."
"You want them in your mouth again, don't you?" You tease - but are quickly put back in your place when Jeongguk sinks a finger into your hot cunt. "Fuck."
"Keep playing with yourself," he says, before getting all shy. He's about to admit how much he likes your tits. Again . As if you don't already know. Cringes. Tilts his head to the side, nose nestling against your foot. Smiles. Looks back at you with shame and sin all over his starry features. Sinks a second finger into you. "Yeah, I wanna suck them. So fuckin' bad."
His fingers are slow as they work their way into you. In. Out. Push. Pull. It's heaven. Slow. Deep. Just like Jeongguk's eyes and the way they study the pleasure on your face. He's taking his time.
You draw dainty little circles on your clit, not wanting to take the focus away from the feeling of his fingers. The combination is lethal; the furrowing of Jeongguk's brows a trigger that could set you off at any given moment.
Something about his work ethic really gets you. He puts his all into the things he does. Wants to be the best. Endeavours to always get top marks. The way he's cramming for his exam? Yeah. It's hot. His determination? His drive? So incredibly sexy. It comes as no surprise that he's got similar prowess for making you come undone. He reads your body. Understands that the tight closing of your eyes is pleasure, not pain. Knows that the flexing of your calves against his chest, the pointing of your toes by his ears, means he's stroking at the right spot; curling his fingers just right.
His spare hand strokes up your leg. Grips your ankle, his thumb lacing itself beneath your anklet. Your head pushes back into his sheets, spine arching for him.
"Yeah?" he encourages as he continues stroking up against your front wall. "Does it feel good?"
Eyes still closed, you nod. Whimper.
A little more pressure on your clit would make you come. You aren't doing it 'cause you want this feeling to last, but you're already so close. He knows exactly how to get you on edge. Finds your weak points and exploits them for his own pleasure; the satisfaction of giving you an orgasm.
"Good," he husks, pressing his lips against the side of your foot, just cause he needs to do something with them. Fucks his fingers into a little deeper. Slower. Is dulcet as he says, "wanna fuck you so bad."
"Do it," you whine. "Fuck me. Please."
You can hear the tiny little nose breath he does as a soft smirk graces his lips. Can feel them against your foot as he shakes his head and whispers, "no."
You whine. Pout. "Gguk-"
But then he builds speed. Is so fast you can barely breathe let alone speak. Makes your entire body shake.
"That's it," he keens. "Keep rubbing your clit. You're gonna cum for me."
"Gguk."
"You're gonna cum."
Thing is, it's not a command. It's an observation. He can feel you getting tighter; feel the familiar clamp of your hot muscles against his long fingers. Knows that this is what precedes heaven on earth.
All you can do is nod. "Gonna cum."
Your hips roll up into his touch, desperate to be as full of him as you can be. As you press down on your clit, the way Jeongguk shallows his finger to directly hit your g-spot has you mewling. His fingers are fast as he repeatedly motions them upwards, the knot in your stomach growing tight and tighter and tighter - until, gradually, eventually, but all very suddenly, the rope snaps entirely.
Your orgasm washes over you like tidal waves, throbbing walls tightening around Jeongguk's fingers, your spare hand grabbing at his wrist to both stop him and keep him in place. It's too much and not enough all at the same time. You continue applying pressure to your clit as writhe in his sheets.
Jeongguk watches on, jaw slack, eyes hungry. He could watch this all day; how the creases between your brows don't ease, not even when your lips curl into a smile. How your chest heaves, and your legs jolt. God. He wishes you were a part of his exam. He'd pass with flying colours.
"You good?" He asks a little too fondly, smiling down at you.
Laughing to yourself a little, you cover your eyes with your forearm. Nod. "Good."
But you're also not done.
There's a plethora of sticky notes on his wall, and you're pretty sure Jeongguk hasn't had a release in a fair few days. He needs this more than you.
And so when you tell him to pick a sticky note, he doesn't waste time. Goes for one at waist level - figures you probably put it up, not him.
Turning back to face you, the sticky note affixed to his index finger as he reads it, his brows furrow. Face contorts. Head tilts to the side.
"What the fuck is an erotic accordion?"
"I don't ever wanna see you in that position again," Jeongguk shudders, decidedly not finding anything erotic about being positioned like a fucking accordion.
The mechanics of it all just do not do it for him. It's not even so much the awkwardness of you, but himself. Didn't like seeing himself in that position. Has never been so aware of his own legs during a shag. Weirded him out.
You snort. "Please - I think it was the least sexually attracted to you I've ever been."
Jeongguk toys with his lip ring, tattooed arm folded across his chest, sheets pooling just beneath his belly button. Back against his headrest, all of his pillows are on the floor. They'd just gotten in the way earlier.
You're on your back, legs up against his headrest, both mirroring and subverting his position. On top of the sheets, you're wearing one of his shirts to cover your modesty.
"So you admit it," he teases with a raise of his eyebrows as you look over towards him. Wish there were still pillows on his bed so you could hit him with one. "You do think I'm hot."
"Not when you're positioned like that," you tease right back.
It's all in good humour. Neither of you are taking any offence. The whole point of these sticky notes is to find out what you do and don't like - the erotic accordion? Yeah. You'll file that one under 'not again'.
Although the more Jeongguk thinks about it, the more open he is to it.
"Felt pretty good, though."
The position, which had been one of your sticky notes, involved him laying on his back with his knees to his chest. The thought of it now makes you giggle. He looked quite cute, all things considered. Submissive. Shy.
He's got that pensive face of his on, looking straight ahead at his desk. There's an assignment open on his dual screens, and he does need to get back to it soon, but he's making the most of a short break with you. 
His lips ring does the thing as he nibbles down on his bottom lip.
You move your leg a little to tap his head with your foot, getting his attention.
"Mhm?" he hums, eyes still unfocused.
"Did it really feel good?"
He nods. Looks at you now. Smirks, but tries to hide it. Shrugs his broad shoulders, collar bones catching on the light of his monitors. Dark outside, they're the only thing lighting up the room now that his lamp is turned off.
"Can't get that deep," he simply states. "There's, like, a lot going on around the tip. It's the most sensitive part, isn't it? So yeah."
You've always been a deep penetration girlie, but even you have to admit the shallowness of his cock pushing into only just your entrance before pulling out again felt really nice. Completely different to what you're used to - especially from him.
Glancing down his chest to where his hand rests over his crotch, you assess the situation. The sheets cover him, but you know he's a little hard beneath them.
You adjust slightly. Press your thighs together, heels against his wall.
With a hearty sign, you feign a little boredom. "Fine. I'll fuck you again."
"Sorry?" He almost giggles. Teeth on show, nose a little scrunched, he doesn't understand you, sometimes. Enjoys it, though. Likes how you aren't taking the sticky notes seriously.
It alleviates him of the pressure that would come with doing these things with anyone else, he thinks.
He knows that's the whole point of them - try these things with you, so that he doesn't have to fear rejection of asking for them with anyone else - but he's surprised at how well it seems to work.
Then again, he's not yet put any of them into practice.
Unaware of his complex thoughts, yours are far more simple: you're still horny.
The accordion really isn't all that erotic. You didn't finish. Didn't care for reciprocation, 'cause Jeongguk's got a wall full of sticky notes, and it's only just gone midnight. You know you'll be coming undone at least once more tonight - if Jeongguk's track record is anything to go by, it'll be plenty more.
Tapping his head with your foot again, you smile as his hand wraps around your ankle.
"Stop," he mumbles, nose resting on the top of your foot, lips pressing against the side of it.
You bite down on your bottom lip, a little flustered from heavenly his chocolatey eyes appear. He keeps his grip on your ankle and pulls it over his lap, encouraging your body to twist. Dragging you to straddle him, reverse cowgirl style, Jeongguk isn't shy about the fact he's hard again.
"You're so easy," you simper, slinking down like a cat, back a little arched, arms straight out ahead of you. His hands push his shirt up, and grips the soft flesh of your hips, pulling you a little further up his lap. You automatically find yourself grinding a little against him. Force of habit.
"Me?" He murmurs, gripping your ass now. He's a little rough with it. Fingers strong. You half think he's gonna spank you - but then he sinks his middle finger straight into your cunt. Still wet and wanting after the sex, Jeongguk enjoys teasing you. Likes keeping you keen. It's fun. He pulls the entire length of his finger out from you. Licks it clean. Keeps his hushed groan quiet. Fingers you again. Pulls out, again. The sound of him intruding and leaving is so satisfying. He does it again. Again, again. You're a little whimpery. "I'm the easy one?"
"Mhmm," you whine as he pushes into you again, still a single, long finger. He holds it there this time. "So easy."
The way you're positioned right now has him wanting to act on his ass-guy impulses. You kind of knew it would. He got you into this position far too easily for it not to have been something he's perfected over the years.
"Can I?" He husks, not wanting to ask the full question, hoping you'll understand.
You do. You know exactly what he wants. Wanna give him the green light without hesitation - but you're supposed to be helping one another.
"Ask properly," you say, voice contorted with the anticipation of pleasure. "Ask for what you want, Jeongguk."
"Mhh," he groans. The hand that isn't currently occupied with your pussy squeezes the soft mound of your ass. "I hate it when you make me do this."
It's almost like he's forgotten how often he makes you directly ask for things.
Your hips roll for him, Jeongguk's fingers still inside. Can't help but moan. "Gotta do it, Gguk. Gotta open yourself up for rejection."
He knows you won't say no. Knows rejection isn't on the table here, and yet he sort of worries about it, still. This is something he wants. Something he's expressed desire in; exclusively his.
Jeongguk lowers his head. Presses a kiss to where his hand was once squeezing your ass. Rests his forehead there. Groans.
"You know I want it," you husk, encouraging him. "All you gotta do is ask. Use your big boy words."
He just whines again. Is deliberately dramatic when he says, "Don't say shit like that, Byeol. I'll cum in my pants."
With a soft laugh, you turn back to look at him. Your faces are both partially obscured by the positioning of your body, but your eyes are able to meet. He's pouting. Eyes wide. Looks as if he's telling gospel truths.
"You're not gonna cum in your pants," you tell him, knowing he's a big fat liar. He's probably not even ready to go again, yet.
"No," he admits. "But I might die.
Rolling your eyes, you grin as you regain your former position. "So you want your dying words to be that of a coward, huh?"
He sighs. Knows you're right. Fucks his finger into you even deeper, stroking at your walls. Gets you a little whiney .
"Wanna eat your ass, " he gruffs, spreading your cheeks a little with his spare hand. You're on display for him, the tight muscle he's dying to get his tongue on just waiting there patiently; pristine. "Let me. Please ."
And then, quite unexpectedly, you free yourself from his grip. Pull away.
Turn to face him, and smile with a grin Jeongguk knows is trouble.
"No."
Lips hanging ajar, Jeongguk looks like he's just been hit in the chest with a paintball gun. He almost wants to question it - No? What do you mean no? - but he knows exactly what no means. Respects it. And yet he feels a little cheated.
"B..." is all he says, because, like, what the fuck? You'd practically been edging him. Forced him to ask .
"Gguk..." you tease back, obviously finding this far more amusing than he is.
His face is a picture, confusion contorting his features, silence speaking for him. It's the reaction you expected, but it makes you feel a lot more guilty than you had anticipated. It's not that you're trying to be a dick. You really did want him to do it.
But Jeongguk is also yet to face any form of rejection. The girls he's spoken to have been interested in him. Not once has he faced any sizable consequence to his questions or actions, and even though you know that asking to eat your ass isn't exactly the top of his issues, you have to reject him. Have to get him used to the feeling. Have to let him get comfortable with it.
He doesn't really know what to do. Purses his lips. Nods. Is obviously disappointed, but trying his best not to let it show.
You feel guilty. Come a little closer. Straddle his lap again, and guide his chin so that his gaze is directly on yours.
He resists at first. Is embarrassed. Feels all horrible inside. It's even worse that his cock is still hard. The entire thing is a bit mortifying. Doesn't wanna look at you, 'cause he feels stupid. Must have misread the situation. Idiot.
But he hadn't misread it all.
You hadn't planned on doing that. Just kind of had an impulsive thought - what if I do reject him? - and let it win.
"That was mean," he whispers so quietly that you almost don't hear it.
You nod, noses nudging against his. "It was."
"Say sorry," he pouts.
When you smile, a small giggle is held back. "I'm sorry. Should I kiss you?" you offer. He pulls you a little further up his lap. Makes you think a kiss is coming. "To say sorry?"
Closer, closer, closer. His nose nudges up against yours. He pauses. "No."
It's direct. To the point. Gets you in your chest a little. Rejection . Funny little thing.
"I wasn't trying to be a dick. There is a sticky note with it on, Koo," you begin to explain. Jeongguk hates how loopy that name makes his tummy feel. "It's gonna happen. I want it to happen."
Yet you didn't let it. He doesn't get it. Doesn't understand. It's a rare instance of your communication going awry.
"You made me ask," he mumbles, pouting. "And then you..."
You stay silent. Wait for him to figure it out. It takes only a second or so. You know he's cracked it when his thumbs begin to stroke against your skin like it normally does.
"And then I rejected you," you nod. Feel incredibly guilty about it now.
Living through rejection in times of vulnerability is important for him. He needs to process that it's okay; that rejection isn't automatic doom and gloom. That he can put himself out and not fear rejection - not because it will never happen, but because he can recognise that life goes on after it.
And it does. For now, though, he's still a little embarrassed.
"I hate that you did that," he says candidly, voice quiet, nose nestled against yours. Wants to stay close. Wants the comfort that comes with it. Eyes shut, his confidence feels shot to shit.
On a normal day, he'd probably not be so concerned about it all - however his emotions are running high. It's just the stress, but it's impacting all of his interactions.
"I'm sorry," you whisper.
"I know," he whispers right back. He genuinely does believe you are - but also believes you shouldn't have to apologise for saying no. "It's okay. 'No' is okay. You can say sorry for being a meanie, but that's all. Can't say sorry for saying 'no' , okay?"
Oh, you've never wanted to kiss him more. Give him the biggest, sweetest smooch for just being so inexorably endearing.
But you just nod. He'd said 'no' to kisses earlier.
Life goes on. Jeongguk knows this. Repeats it like an oath.
Life goes on. Life goes on. Life goes on.
"Two choices," he says. Pulls away a little. Wants to look in your starry eyes, and forget what just happened. "Choice one - we call it a night and get some sleep."
"Or?" you encourage, still feeling a little awful about the whole rejection thing.
"Or, choice two - you go and pick a sticky note, this time. We do whatever it says."
If there's one thing for certain, it's that you love a good redemption arc. Think this is a no-brainer. You hop off his lap without a second thought and pluck one off the wall at random.
Jeongguk bites down on his bottom lip as he watches you. His head is all over the place, but he knows one definite truth: you make things feel okay .
Embarrassment? It's null and void, with you. Sure, he feels it in the moment, but it always just simmers away. Disappears.
"So?" he asks, as you scan over the words of the note.
It's Jeongguk's handwriting. Is deserved, you think.
You turn it around for him to read, getting back into position on his lap. He welcomes you back, Holds your waist as you intrude on his personal space more - but is it really intruding if he's opening the door for you? Welcoming you in?
"Ah," he grins a little awkwardly. " That ."
" That ," you echo with a small giggle.
"You wanna do it?" he asks, a little cautiously this time.
You're so proud. 
He opened himself for rejection again . He can do it.
With a nod, and every muscle in your body willing your lips not to kiss him, you say, "yeah. I do."
Jeongguk grins even brighter, now. Has stars in his smile. Thoughts of twenty minutes prior don't bother him anymore.
"Alright," he sighs a little, as if he isn't secretly really keen for what's yet to come. "Let's get it."
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AO3 | MASTERLIST | MINORS DNI
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snzinite · 11 months ago
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Nothing to See Here
2k words. yes that is the fic name. i finally finished something that wasn't a headcanon! yippee!! this is for @messysneezer who requested a fic involving Mudrock. sorry this took so long, i was busy for all of January so I didn't have much time to write write. this ended up being a little longer than i pictured. i hope you enjoy it!
female sneezes (mudrock) / allergies (pollen but mostly dust), some talk about mess and spray but not really much of either
Mudrock had never been inside of a Leithanien library before. Even in a town as small as this, it was something of a wonder. The ladders moved themselves to and fro, guided by the unseen hand of the musical arts of the gramophone units. Their music was soft and ambient, and their effects were more seen than heard. Books levitated themselves off the shelves for the clientele, going so far as to flip through themselves if one decided they were only looking to have a peek instead of a read. Warm lighting splashed visibility around classy decor of ornate stone and lacquered wood. She would have liked to spend a few days in this building alone… were it not for a few problems.
“Heh-xxng-choo!”
She scrunched her shoulders together as she pressed her finger into her lip through the sneeze. She had been waiting for that one to work its way out of her ever since she had to slip out of her suit. 
A particularly nasty Leithanien caster unit had managed to tail what remained of her squad as they made a desperate play to soldier on to Kazdel. Her men lacked the strength or the willpower to square off against them now, so their only hope had been to ditch their equipment in a safe location and scatter about this border town in disguises. She rolled her shoulders, feeling the silky smooth straps of her casual dress glide across them. The feeling almost didn’t register against the soreness from months of having her armor and mud plates weigh down on them. She wore clothing, yet she felt almost naked.
“Het-xngt-choo!”
Speaking of feeling naked, the brief moment of being exposed to the grass pollen-laden air of springtime Leithanien had been enough to cause her allergies to flare up. Not exactly pleasant in its own right, but it could prove deadly if it caused her to be found. She rubbed the underside of her nose back and forth, subtly massaging her septum and the outside of her nostrils to ease them of the stinging itch that throbbed. It helped until it didn’t, and the sensation of a fingernail scratching and itch sent a tingle up to her sinus, until–
“HeeETCH-XNGT—oo!”
She exhaled after that one, nearly losing control but managing to stifle at the last second. The volume definitely increased a few notches, and she had officially drawn the notice of the denizens of the library. An older Caprinae man shushed her with a disapproving glare before adjusting his reading spectacles and going back to his tome.
(“Excuse me,”) she whispered as an apology before rubbing her nose again. It felt warm to the touch, with moisture beginning to collect at the insides of her nostrils. She attempted to sniffle it back. In that moment, she discovered two new unfortunate things about the situation.
One: this library was very dusty. The inhale caused her to just about feel every particle of dust that was invited into her already irritated, sensitive nasal passages. It made the itching migrate to the top of her throat for the time being, but she knew that it wouldn’t stay there for long. Apparently, the grand mastery of Leithanien arts units did not extend to cleaning functions. Now that she could feel it, she saw it on every surface, book, and floor she could lay eyes on.
Two, and much more immediately deadly: a Spire Caster, one of the most elite arts users in the Leithanien military, had made their way into the library while she had occupied herself with worrying about her allergies.
She took an involuntary breath of alarm and ducked behind a shelf. Her heart began to hammer in her chest. How many of her people had also chosen this library to hide out in? She hadn’t seen any come in, but the place was fairly large; it didn’t mean there weren’t any here. She willed herself to calm down. There was a reason she chose this place–detection arts were thwarted by thick sheafs of matter, and what better place to find such obstacles than a library?
The shot of adrenaline dulled the itching for a moment, but as she calmed it returned with a vengeance. She tried to swallow to tame it, but a pang of scratchiness lanced through her mouth into her nose. She took a hitching breath, then two–
“Haehh–choo! Hah-kxnt-choo!”
And stifled with all of her willpower against the side of her wrist. As soon as she was satisfied that she wasn’t going to sneeze again, she risked opening her eyes and shooting glances around her. The Elafia woman who shared the aisle with her gave her a strange, pointed look, but everything more or less remained the same otherwise. 
She shook her head a bit and sniffled again. Blinking made her realize that tears had begun to pool at the corners of her eyes. She wiped at them with a delicate touch so not as to irritate her eyes.
Stifling meant she was now congested as all hell, not relieved of any of the itching, and generally miserable… but at least that meant her nose was clogged up to any other irritants looking to extend the misery further. She could still breathe in some troublemaking dust if she wasn’t careful, but low, shallow breaths would hopefully prevent that. She tested it out. The breath only fanned the embers of a sneeze rather than set it ablaze, so she managed to relax a little on that front.
The next step was to get clear of that Spire Caster by any means necessary. Not sneezing was half the battle–not casting out a metaphorical flare to her location was only one aspect, but merely being seen would be enough. She began to walk through the aisleways between shelves. She kept her pace measured as leisurely or academic; frantic footfalls of a run would more or less shout out that she was exactly who they were looking for.
She neared the center of the floor now. The dust on the shelves was thicker here. It made the roof of her mouth itch just looking at it. Her lips had parted so she could breathe entirely through her mouth. Any movement of air through her nose was bound to be futile and noisy at her luckiest. She needed to leave this place and regroup with her squad, but she couldn’t risk making a move so soon after she’d spotted the enemy. 
Think, she forced herself. Stop thinking about how much you need to sneeze. You’re supposed to be a scholar, remember? What kind of scholar enters a library and doesn’t look at any books?
She reached for one at random, and her heart skipped a beat as it levitated itself into her hands. She had seen it earlier, but it turned out to be quite another thing to experience it personally. She did her best to ignore the puff of dust produced by it opening its cover for her and flipping through its pages. It would have been useless to her even if she wasn’t struggling to see through watering eyes, though. She had picked up enough Leithanien to hold a conversation, but she still couldn’t read more than directory signs.
She shut the book and tucked it under her arm. She paced around the corner, hopeful to find a reading table or chair in the corner of a room to keep watch over the area from when she froze.
Standing in the middle of the small space between shelf-aisles was the Spire Caster. They didn’t look like they were looking her way, but the unseeing face of their white masks always gave precious little away.
The jolt of fear caused Mudrock to suck in a lungful of air as she pivoted her heel back to press her back against the shelf she had just walked from. She stopped herself, but it was too late; the breath had already disturbed the contents of her sinuses. The resulting noise was no more than a deep snuffle, but that was the least of her worries. The tickle that danced in her nose spiked its heels into her, and she hitched once, twice, and–
“Hah-choo.” That was fine, but she wouldn’t get away with just that. “Hah-choo!” A little louder, but both had been contained fairly well. But the tickle only magnified, and she could only draw in a huge breath. Her mouth hung open. The world seemed to stop. She felt a tear roll down the outside of her eye off of her face.
Cover yourself! The thoughts came crashing in. Hold your nose shut! But they had come too late.
“HUUUESSSHHoo!” She sneezed down toward the floor, fully uncovered. Mercifully, the lighting wasn’t right for her or anyone else to see the resulting spray. Unmercifully, she wasn’t done–
“HAAUUUUESSSSSSHH-OO!” She brought a hand up in a reflex after the next one, but it wouldn’t have done her much good anyway. She had nothing to sneeze into but her bare hand and arm, and neither would have muted the sound. Thankfully, letting these out had reduced the itching dramatically, and she managed to end off the fit with a “HA—-choo!”
Her sinuses had cleared themselves of their congestion somewhat, too. She was much less uncomfortable now. Unfortunately, she was also probably much more heard by the Spire Caster. She whipped around to look for them. She did not have to look long.
The Spire Caster rounded the same corner she had just moments ago. The robed figure stood somewhat shorter than Mudrock, but their presence made her feel small. The black eye sockets of their mask bore down on her like hateful coals. She remained rock still, hand frozen over her face as though it would prevent them from sucking her soul out. Which, for all she knew, was just the sort of terrible spell that Spire Casters were capable of.
They held her gaze for a moment, then gave a chuckle as they dug around in their pocket.
“Let me guess. Foreigner? Grass season?” Their voice was soft, muted further behind the mask.
Oh. Right. They have no idea what me or my squad look like without our gear. This line of thinking was interrupted by a wordless panic followed by a single, stifled sneeze.
“HET–ngt-choo.” It took Mudrock a moment to find her voice again. When she did, her first syllable was choked with phlegm. “How did you know?”
“Well, the horns are more or less a dead giveaway,” they said. “And this time of year is always the worst for grass pollen. My sister has it worse than you do, and we’re from the C Minor Spire.”
She didn’t know what the C Minor Spire was, but she did recognize the bundle of gilded cloth she was handed from the Spire Caster’s pocket: a handkerchief.
“Oh,” she said, before forcing her brain to engage in nicety mode. “Thank you, but I couldn’t possibly.”
“It’s just a simple cloth. Please, keep it. If you’re planning on staying in this nest of dust, it sounds like you’ll need it.”
She hung in a pause before taking the handkerchief from them. She hadn’t made a mess of her face by sneezing, but removing her hand and showing her face felt like a barrier being breached by the enemy. She brought it back up by burying her nose in the cloth and blowing to get what remained in her nasal passages out of her. It felt nice on her irritated face; warmed by the Spire Caster’s body heat so it wasn’t uncomfortably cold, but not so warm that it aggravated any sensitive skin. “Thank you,” she managed.
“It’s nothing,” the Spire Caster said. “I hope you manage to feel some relief.” They turned away to leave, but they only made it one step before stopping. “Oh, right. Pardon me for asking, but you wouldn’t happen to know of any Sarkaz mercenaries by the name of Mudrock, would you?”
Nothing else could catch her off guard today. “Mud… Rock? Sounds like a silly mercenary name, no?”
The Spire Caster snorted. “Silly or not, he’s responsible for a lot of dead people. Be careful if you run into him or his men.”
“Will do,” she said, savoring the irony over a sniffle. “Thank you.”
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geekgirl78 · 2 years ago
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Green Day in Simplon, Groningen 2nd January 1992
“Ton van der Werf lived in the Lewenborg district of the city. He had many contacts and was busy booking concerts here and there.' 'He got a call from a band from America asking if he could arrange something. That turned out to be Green Day. They came this way and were going to visit Groningen first.'
Van der Werf remembers it well. In the early nineties he was studying in Groningen when the American band came his way through that one phone call. “They were 17, 18 years old and they were on an 11-week European tour,” he says. 'Now, but also at that time, that was bizarrely long. Normally it is a round of four to five weeks. With a super rickety bus that broke down in Leeuwarden. I think a key was broken off.'
The band members stayed the night in Lewenborg pending the bookings that Van der Werf could arrange. 'There was never any money. They had a maximum of 250 Guilders left over from the Simplon show. For example, if I put on a little show in a squat-place, they would sleep at my house. So did Green Day. They were three nice boys. The drummer was already hyper and a bit crazy then.'
'On stage you saw fresh guys with a nice show and interaction with the audience. That's important to break through. At the time nobody was surprised that they broke through.' Well, no one? Van der Werf has a different view about the concert. “They were very rickety. In Simplon it was funny, nothing more. Their album Dookie was released in 1994. I went to Belgium with a band NRA and that's where we came across Green Day. There they said: yes, it's going well, we've just sold 1 million records in America.'
“We were really suprised by that. You know them as a rickety band that can just hold a guitar and three years later they have sold a million records. When they started playing, I got it. It was a well-oiled machine. They toured Europe eight to nine months a year, then you become a good band.'
A short review was written in Simplon Magazine about Green Day's show. ‘What an opener of the new year in the cafe! Three boys from San Francisco who swear by primal melodic punk pop and a good dose of enthusiasm; the always working recipe for a very pleasant evening. With borrowed instruments here and there, there was a nice pounding, and the full house couldn't get enough of it. Also note the lp 39 smooth.
source
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Found this little article about the time Green Day played in Simplon in 1992 in my city. I got into them 2 years later, so sadly i wasn’t at that tiny show, but i still like to read about it and had fun reading this one. Written from the words of a man that booked shows in Groningen etc. I’ve seen many bands at this bar and everytime i go there, i’m like “i can’t believe the boys were in this bar so many years ago”, cause it’s kinda special to me. Reading how they stayed over at this guy’s place, the area he lived in and i’m like “damn, can’t believe gd have been in that area of my city”. I know it sounds silly, but i don’t care, it just means something to me. Anyway, i copied some bits i liked from the article and translated them to English. These things just put a smile on my face. Also, love how he thought they were 17/18 years old, i mean, yeah, they looked very young, i mean look at that cute picture of little billie at the show XD
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erithacuscreations · 9 months ago
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Hey! Sorry for the silence; the past couple months have been pretty busy for me. Our little Haus has been moving into a bigger apartment! The new place is much nicer, definitely safer, and we like it a lot. I’ve got my own little space for my animals and desk, we've got a patio, and for once all of our packages are actually getting delivered correctly! It’s very nice now that we’re finally out of the old place. We still have unpacking to do and new routines to settle into, but everything is going great otherwise.
Outside of moving, I’ve kind of been having a rough time emotionally. My grandma began rapidly declining in January, and though I immediately took time to drive out of state to see her in early February, I wasn’t ready for her to pass so soon after that. I’m still processing everything. She was the grandparent I spent the most the most time with growing up. She fostered my love of drawing and dragons and fantasy, so it’s safe to say I wouldn’t even be recognizable as the same person if she wasn’t in my life. I'm very sad of course, but I'm glad she was able to pass the way she wanted to. I’m hoping that remembering her gets easier as time goes on.
I’ve had a birthday in the past month as well, not a very exciting or pleasant one coming off the heels of a fresh loss and in the depths of moving hell but what can you do, really?
I’m also sick haha yaaaaay. Lots of coughing, chest congestion, and mucus that have made working hard the past week. The more severe parts of it are over now, and I just have rattling lungs and congested sinuses left. Y’all, this thing took me out for a while, not gonna lie. Definitely don’t recommend working a full day in a grocery store while wearing a binder and having chest congestion at the same time lmao. I’m taking it as easy as I can though, given that I work in an unforgiving retail environment. Most of my managers have been pretty kind about my current state, some have let me leave early on days where I’m not feeling great.
Uhhh art news… Working on a couple new isopods for my local ad, then I’ll be sharing an updated commission menu with adjusted prices! And maybe I’ll be opening up for telegram stickers? Haven’t opened for em in a while but I enjoy doing them when I get a chance! It’s uh. Kinda been a while since I’ve done any art so I’m going a little easy on myself getting started again. I need to go through my WIPs and figure out what to work on after that! I know I’ve got a lot of stuff on my infinite to-do list that I want to get around to doing.
I don’t really allow myself to splurge on a lot besides snacks, but I’ve gotten some fun pens and plan to start journaling, regularly hopefully. I don’t do a lot of traditional media stuff these days, but I feel like jotting down my thoughts about how my day went will help be build more familiarity with the tools and practice again. I have a little notebook that I’ve customized and keep in my nightstand with the thought that I’ll do little sharpie doodles in it, but I never manage to motivate myself to do it even when I remember to… Maybe journaling will help with the confidence I need to do that? We’ll see.
Anyways, thanks for bearing with me y’all! Hope you’re doing okay. As always, please feel free to email me if you have any questions about commissions. Have a good week!
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starlitangels · 2 years ago
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I Don’t Care (I Care)
This takes place... back in the Imperium’s January or so. Happy October, y’all! 4.4k words (I am so sorry) Also I only used one spelling for daemon because I figured in the Imperium there hadn’t been enough interaction between humans and daemons to develop a difference
I knocked on the ajar office door. “You wanted to see me, sir?” I said, poking my head in.
President Moore looked up from his computer. “Ah. Yes. Coordinator. Come in. Have a seat,” he invited. I slid inside the office. “You can leave the door open, if you’d like. This isn’t a private thing. Or you can close it. Whichever makes you the most comfortable.”
Certainly a first from him but I didn’t question it, leaving the door about the same width open as it had been when I arrived. I crossed the office and sat in one of the chairs opposite his big desk, interlacing my fingers together on my lap. He’d gone back to typing something for a moment and I wasn’t planning on interrupting.
When he finished whatever he’d been working on, he slid over in his seat to see me past the computer screen. “So,” he began. “I asked to see you because I wanted to officially congratulate you on being the longest-serving daemon haven coordinator.” He gestured to the liquor cabinet set into one wall. “Would you care for a drink, to celebrate?”
I blinked. “Is three months the record?” I asked, ignoring the drink offer.
He chuckled. “Technically, two-and-a-half,” he replied, getting up from his desk and going over to the cabinet anyway. “You’ve overshot the record by a few weeks, but I’ve been busy.” He popped the cork on a champagne bottle and brought two flutes over, sitting back down at his desk.
I tried to smile, but I knew it didn’t quite reach my eyes. “Thank you, sir.”
“I know Avior’s attitude isn’t the most pleasant. He’s never been pleasant to me, anyway.” President Moore made a face of barely-restrained frustration as he poured the drink. “So I wanted to congratulate you on your patience with him.”
I shrugged. “I’d call him an acquired taste, but he’s really not that bad,” I said. Maybe because I believe him about the Meridian collapsing and I intend to do something about it rather than just run away to contemplate the end of my existence or argue with him, I thought sarcastically. “Maybe it just took someone who could handle a bit of attitude.”
President Moore bounced his fine pale eyebrows, passing me one of the champagne flutes. “Well, either way, bravo on your time in your position.”
“Thank you, sir.” Silence fell for several long seconds, during which he sipped at his drink and I held mine loosely in my hand. “Is there anything else?”
“Yes, actually. Given you’ve lasted so long at your position, I was hoping to accompany you to the haven later today. Take a look at the progress you’ve made.”
My hands got cold as the blood rushed out of them. If he found our plans… “Sounds great,” I said. “I don’t know if I’d define it as progress, but I’ve managed to get along with Avior for this long.”
“Nevertheless, I’d like to see, my good coordinator.”
I smiled again. “Of course, sir.” I opened and closed my mouth for a second, tapping one fingernail against the delicate glass of the flute. “I can’t guarantee Avior’s gonna be nice, though.”
President Moore laughed with no real humor in his tone, taking another swallow of his drink. “Ohhh, trust me. He never is. Not to me, anyway. But don’t you worry. I can handle him.” Those last two sentences went a little singsong, like he was trying to reassure a child. He gave me that somewhat creepy smile as his eyes flicked a little too low over my body for my comfort.
I took a deep breath. “Okay,” I said. “Shall I meet you there later?”
“Yes. I’ll be at the door at… oh… shall we say… three this afternoon?”
I nodded. “That’ll work just fine.” I tried to smile. It was probably a grimace. “If that’s all, sir, I should be getting back.”
“Of course. I’ll meet you at the door.”
“See you later.” I got up, set the untouched champagne on his desk, and practically fled his office. Being as polite and professional as I possibly could.
“Are you alright?” Avior asked as I slammed the door to the haven’s administrative offices behind me.
“Define ‘alright’ in this context,” I grumbled, dropping my messenger bag next to my desk and flopping into my chair.
Avior sighed, perching slightly on the edge of my desk. “I’ll take that as a no,” he remarked. “What happened?”
“Just… had a meeting with our good academy president.” Those last three words were so sarcastic that I could practically taste them. Avior snorted. “He wanted to congratulate me.” I nodded. “On being the longest-serving haven coordinator. Mmhmm.”
Avior actually smiled. “Well, you are,” he agreed. “Like I said the night we met: I wear on the nerves.”
I met his eyes and smiled. “Not mine,” I replied. “That’s why I’m still here.”
His smile turned a little soft. “I’m glad you are.”
“Me too. Because we gotta hide everything we’ve been planning. Lasko’s coming here later this afternoon to check on my progress and he can’t know what we’ve been thinking about,” I said.
Avior’s ethereal gold eyes swept the mostly barren office and then glanced at me. “May I?” he asked.
I shrugged. “Take what you need,” I said. “You know I neither care nor mind.”
His eyelids fluttered a little as he fed off my emotions, recharging his magic just a little. He snapped his fingers. I heard things in my drawers and the drawers of his desk across the room from mine shuffle around. Avior grinned. “He’ll never find anything. There’s nothing to find anymore.”
I nodded. “You know you don’t have to ask to feed on me, right?” I got up from my desk and moved around some of the papers on the bulletin board to make them look organized rather than haphazard. “I told you that you can whenever you need to. You have standing permission.” I peeked at him over my shoulder.
He shrugged. “I know. But when it’s you rather than a scheduled visit in a private room, it feels rude,” he replied. “Especially since we actually became friends.”
“Avior. Passively take whatever you need. I don’t care.”
He shrugged. “I care.” He crossed to his own desk and opened a drawer, rifling through it. “Lasko offered you champagne, didn’t he? I can smell it on you.”
“He did.”
“Did you drink it?”
“You think I trust him? Of course I didn’t.”
Avior shut his drawer, holding something small in his hand. He passed me the alcohol swab. “Here. If you want to get the smell off.”
I took it, tore open the paper packaging, and wiped down my hands. The sharp scent of sterilized cleaning supplies hit my nose. “Thanks.” I shuddered. “God, he’s such a creep. Like, I swear… you know how Vindemiator mentioned that his Freelancer… friend gets a lot of unwanted looks from Lasko? The guy looks at me the same way.”
Avior grimaced. “I’m sorry.”
I shrugged. “I can handle him. He’s powerful, I’ll give him that. And air is a dangerous element to mess with. But I’ve got a few tricks up my sleeve, even as a Freelancer.” I winked at him playfully and went back to organizing the bulletin board. Avior chuckled quietly—and in the corner of my eye I saw his reflection in the window shaking his head. I smiled to myself, biting my lower lip.
“Just… be careful around him. Please?”
“Always.” I shoved a pushpin into the corkboard.
“I didn’t expect you to be waiting outside for me,” President Moore said, taking a sip from the to-go cup of coffee in his hand. I shrugged, tugging my blazer tighter around me. “You look so cold. Let’s get inside.”
“I mean. It’s Dahlia in January. It’s a bit brisk. It’s not cold. Not compared to where I grew up, anyway.” I opened the door to the haven. Lasko took the door from me.
“I insist,” he said.
“Thank you, sir,” I said. I slipped inside and let him follow after me. He straightened his suit jacket with one hand, the other still around his coffee cup. “Well. Allow me to welcome you back to the daemon haven, President Moore.” I gestured to the young man at the reception desk. “You’ll remember our receptionist.”
“Good afternoon, President Moore,” the receptionist said.
“Pleasure to see you again,” Moore replied, not sounding genuine at all.
I put in the code to the doors that led toward the feeding rooms and the daemon quarters, holding the door open. Moore let me, this time, as he ducked through. He took another sip of his coffee cup. “Would you like to see the improvements I’ve been working on for the feeding rooms first or—”
“Coordinator, Mr. President,” one of the enforcers greeted as he slipped by.
“Tyler,” I replied. Moore ducked his head but said nothing.
Once Tyler was out of sight, Moore glanced around the junction and met my eyes. “Actually, let’s start in your office, shall we?”
“Of course,” I said, gesturing down the hallway. We bypassed the feeding rooms and the private rooms and went straight to the admin offices.
Avior was sitting at his desk when we came in. He glanced up from a paper he was reading.
“Avior. We have a visitor,” I said, giving him a significant look.
The academy president followed me into the office. He and Avior immediately exchanged a similar scowl. “Avior,” Lasko said.
“Moore,” Avior replied flatly.
I sighed. “Can we all agree to pretend to get along for a few minutes?” I asked tiredly.
Avior’s expression softened immediately as his gaze met mine. “Apologies, coordinator.” His voice was quiet, almost like he didn’t want Lasko to hear. I gave him a small but encouraging smile.
Lasko gave me a lascivious smile. “Of course,” he agreed. “Now, go on. Show me around.”
I pointed. “My desk.” I pointed again. “Avior’s desk.” Avior gave a single half-hearted wave. “This is our bulletin board, where we keep the information we get from the academy and the enforcers in the haven. We have…” I pointed to the stack of papers all under one thumbtack. “These are requisition request copies. These…” I gestured to another stack under a single tack. “These ones are reports from the daemons who are housed here. Self-assessments that I started doing when I signed on here, as well as anonymous reporting of any problems with fellow daemons experienced here.”
Lasko gave me a look. “Dear, what do you care if they have petty squabbles with each other?” he asked. “That’s not your job.”
“My job is to help Avior keep this place running as smoothly as we can,” I pointed out, pretending to be oblivious to his bigotry. “And if we end up with a squabble between two daemons, I don’t want the enforcers getting hurt trying to get between them. Best to head off problems before violence breaks out.”
Lasko faked a pout in my direction. “My dear, this place doesn’t deserve you.”
I shrugged. “That’s not for me to say.” I turned back to the bulletin board. “Anyway. Um… oh, while I have you here, President Moore, I was wondering if it would be possible to discuss simplifying the paperwork necessary for getting a memory modification?” Lasko didn’t notice Avior perk up behind us. “I’ve been going through them all and they are such a slog. I actually have a few different options already drafted, if I could submit them to you for review—”
“Coordinator, that can wait,” Lasko interrupted. “I came to see your progress on the haven, not talk about paperwork.”
I shot Avior an apologetic glance that Moore didn’t see as he peered over a map pinned by all four corners to the bulletin board. Avior shrugged.
“This is where you track who’s in which bedroom and their race, right?”
“Yes.”
“Do you think it’s wise to have a Serenity Daemon and a Sadism Daemon next to each other?”
“Camelopardalis and Vega get along well enough.” I shrugged. “They barely see each other or speak to each other.”
“Those two have given us the least amount of problems as neighbors,” Avior added.
Lasko bounced his eyebrows. “I see,” he said. He kept inspecting the map. “Why don’t you group them by race?” The question was directed over his shoulder to Avior.
“Putting the Sadism Daemons together was a bad idea when I first organized everything,” Avior said. “There were only two at the time but they don’t get along.”
“Everyone gets along better if they’re near friends,” I added.
“I see.” Lasko nodded. I noticed his gaze linger on one slip of paper tacked to the laminated map. A magenta slip with Vin on it. Shortened because Vindemiator couldn’t fit on the slip in Avior’s larger handwriting with Incubus on there too. He narrowed his eyes—and then straightened where he’d been leaning close to the map.
“Alright. I think you’ve covered the office. Want to show me the feeding rooms? You mentioned you made some changes?”
“Of course, sir.” I swept an arm toward the door. Lasko followed me out. Avior got up as we passed and brought up the rear. “Avior, I can manage,” I said.
“I know. I’m going to go speak with some enforcers in the security booth. I’ll follow until the junction and then go my own way,” Avior replied casually. I nodded. He trailed Moore and I out of the room as I led Lasko back to the feeding rooms.
“So, some of the visitors that we get to feed the daemons are fairly private people,” I explained as we walked. “And a lot of them are kind of embarrassed about the fact that they’re feeding daemons. Others still are willing to offer up their emotions, but don’t want to have any sort of… contact with the daemon they’re feeding. I’ve noticed that most often with the Sadism and Desire Daemons.”
“Desire Daemons,” Lasko mused. “That’s an interesting choice of words for incubi and succubi.”
I made a face. “Seems politer as a blanket term,” I said. Avior peeled off from our walk to head to the security booth.
“Have you ever considered your compassion for these daemons to be unwarranted?”
I pretended, again, not to notice his bigotry. Playing the part of the innocent human who just wanted to help. “No,” I replied, voice higher-pitched to make sure I sounded dismissive but thoughtful, rather than blatantly contrarian. I led him the rest of the way to the feeding rooms and opened one of the doors to one that was empty. Once we were inside, I put the doorstopper in the way so it wouldn’t lock for an hour behind us.
“So… these are in all the rooms?” Moore asked, going over to the small divider.
It was a piece of plywood, attached perpendicular to the wall. There was a seat on either side, and the plywood had been painted with nature scenes on either side. An unempowered friend of mine who was a skilled artist had helped me make the plywood look nice. It only blocked off a small portion of the room, leaving the rest of the space open.
“No. Just four of them. Most people don’t care if they see the daemon they’re feeding or not. But for those few who don’t want to see, we put a few up so it’d be an option for the humans who aren’t… comfortable. Both sides are still visible to the cameras, I made sure of that when we picked their positions in each room. I didn’t want any potential liabilities to the academy for hiding one side or the other.”
Moore stood uncomfortably close next to me, setting his hand low on the small of my back to lean around me and study the short divider. “Interesting addition. I like it,” he said. He turned back and gave me a smile. Not removing his hand from my back. “You know, you’re something really special. To have made all these changes and lasted as long as you have in this position where so many others have failed. That takes a special kind of person.”
The pressure of his hand on my back felt like he was trying to lead me to the blind spot directly under the security camera.
I stepped away from his hand, faking oblivious. “Thanks,” I said. “Would you like to see the common areas?”
Avior watched the coordinator on the security monitor in one of the feeding rooms. Watched as President Moore’s hand slid around their lower back. From half the haven away, a spike of discomfort shot from the coordinator and slammed into Avior’s senses.
Visibly, they didn’t indicate that they didn’t like the Air Elemental’s touch at all.
Avior’s eyes narrowed. A growl rumbled deep in his chest. Get your vile hands away from them, you disgusting, power-abusing peon, he thought aggressively.
What’s got you so riled? a familiar voice asked softly in his mind. Never hurried and rarely raised.
Not now, Vega, Avior retorted.
Awww, come now… I sense your distress from here. What’s wrong?
President Moore is visiting.
I’m aware. I can taste his malice from here. It’s quite… delectable. If you have the palette for it.
Well I don’t. Now stop it. Rage trembled through Avior’s magic. Why was he so angry? Sure he and Lasko had never seen eye-to-eye and he never intended to try, but this should have been righteous indignation or frustration. Why was he so angry, seeing that creep put his hands on Avior’s coordinator—
Wait.
Avior unclenched his fist.
Since when do you think of them as yours? he thought to himself.
He blinked several times and turned his attention inward. Peeling back layers of that anger and frustration, looking for something hiding underneath. Shoving the reds of those emotions out of the way. A layer of jealousy writhed inside underneath, green and sickly.
Snuggled underneath everything, soft pink glowed faintly.
Ohhh sh—
Vega’s laughter echoed in his mind. Vindemiator’s joined.
The door to the admin office opened and slammed shut. I looked up to see Avior storming in.
“What’s the matter with you?” I asked, turning my attention back to the screen.
Avior dropped into his desk chair and shoved his fingers through that thick, chocolate brown hair of his. Mussing the tight waves. “I hate it when our good academy president visits.”
I shrugged. “Can’t avoid it. Thanks for playing nice though.”
“I wouldn’t have if you hadn’t outright asked both of us,” he growled.
“I figured. And I appreciate your willingness to try.” I went back to typing. Avior grabbed a pen and bent over a paper sitting on his desk.
Crack!
I looked up. Avior had snapped the pen in half.
“Are… are you okay, Avior?”
“No!” he snapped.
“Don’t you get short with me. I’m trying to help. What’s wrong?”
“He’s such a… he’s such a creep! I hate putting up with him!” Avior exclaimed. Ink had bled bluish black all over his hand from how badly he’d broken the pen.
“I agree. But for now, that’s a necessary evil or whatever,” I said, trying to keep cool, taking my hands off my keyboard to give him more of my attention.
“Don’t be complicit in his issues,” Avior spat.
I stood up from my desk and stomped around it. “Excuse you?” I demanded. “Since when have I ever been complicit in his abuses? I’ve been actively fighting to undermine him since the first damn day I assigned myself to this place. If I go along with what he says, it’s because I’m lying to him and trying to get him not to look at us too closely. I’m trying to tell him what he wants to hear so he thinks I’m going along with it.”
“Yet you let him touch you.”
I stiffened. “Trust me. I hated every second,” I replied. “If I thought I could dodge without rousing his ire, I would have.”
Avior got up from his desk. He twirled his finger in the air, indicating for me to turn while the ink siphoned off of his hand and disappeared. I spun in a slow circle. Avior’s eyes wracked me up and down.
“What are you looking for?” I asked with a sigh.
“Did he hurt you?”
I snorted. “I think even Moore knows better than to mess with me. I’m, like, at least a year older than him, and graduated the academy early. Fully certified. He may be a specialist race but I think he’s smart enough to guess that messing with the Freelancer who medalled at the E ‘n’ E Games in Combo Energetic Freestyle performance for holding concentration on all four types at once is a bad idea.”
“He’d better.” Avior inspected me closely as I finally turned back around to face him. “I can’t believe you let him put his hands on you.” He leaned up from inspecting my back to look around my neck—not touching me but tugging the collar of my shirt away by its fold to reveal the skin. He was standing really close. But there was none of the discomfort wriggling in my chest that came with Moore’s lustful leering when it was Avior’s concerned face.
“Well what the hell was I supposed to do, Avior?!” I demanded, holding as still as I could so I didn’t accidentally touch him, but letting my frustration vent into my tone. “If I moved away too obviously he’d get pissed and then I might get fired and then our plans would be a little dampened with me losing my access to the haven.”
“You could have—I don’t know—moved out of his reach? Stayed arm’s length away from him?”
“And risked him noticing that I was being cold and impersonal and sparking his temper! I’m trying to be as under the radar as I can be. Why are you putting this on me?”
“I’m not—not intentionally. I just… he put his hands on you. And you let him.”
“Oh my G—what does it matter? He’s my boss and he likes being in control. If I play along, he doesn’t scrutinize me—or the whole damn haven—too much.”
“You still let him!”
“Why do you care so much about this?” I put myself squarely in front of him.
Avior grabbed my shoulders and pinned me to the wall beside my desk. “Because I love you!”
My jaw dropped.
His eyes widened, their glittering gold catching the light. He swore under his breath and let me go as roughly as he grabbed me, letting me lean away from the wall. “I didn’t mean to say that out loud. I’m sorry. Just forget I said anything. We’re coworkers—nothing more. We’re barely even that considering I’m a daemon and you’re human. It doesn’t matter what I—mmph!”
He was cut off as I grabbed the collar of his shirt around the polo’s buttons and pulled him in to me, kissing him full on the mouth. I felt him release a burst of magic a split second before our lips met. He’s covering the cameras… the thought passed out of my head as quick as it formed.
Both of us released a sigh of contentment. Avior’s warm, soft hand slid over the back of my neck and the small of my back. The same place Moore had touched, but safe and intimate instead of awkward and uncomfortable. Hold me, hold me, love me, love me… the words swirled around in my mind too fast for me to process.
All I knew was that Avior’s mouth was on mine and my other fist had balled in the back of his polo shirt. “I love you,” I breathed onto his lips. “I’ve been in love with you for a while now. I just didn’t know how you would take it.”
“I assure you, I’ve wanted you for just as long,” he replied in a whisper. “I love you.” He pulled me impossibly closer. “You taste amazing. All of you.”
He shuddered slightly under my hands. The shudder I recognized when he fed on intense emotions. He wasn’t just meaning the taste of my chapstick.
Holding me against him, he backed up. His desk didn’t have a computer on it, so it was easy for him to lie me down across the top of the desk, climbing up on top of me. “Is this okay?” He was breathless as he asked.
I reached around his waist with one leg, dragging his torso down to fall against mine. “More than okay.”
He kissed me, hard.
“C’mere,” I whispered.
His hands fumbled for the buttons on my shirt. My back arched to help him with better angles.
“Do you think Moore knows?” Avior asked softly, hand warm and soft around mine. “We’ve been careful to keep the cameras covered with illusions that show us doing our jobs. But… do you think he knows?”
“I don’t care,” I said.
“I care.” He cupped the side of my face with his other hand, fingers sliding into my hair. “Look at me, my starlight.” I met his gaze. “If he knows, that’s something he could use against you. I don’t want to be the reason you’re in the crosshairs of the Imperium. People go missing under mysterious circumstances all the time. And I don't want that to happen to you because you dared to be in love with a daemon.”
I gently pressed a kiss to the tip of his nose. “I don’t think he’d risk losing my powers. He knows I’m a valuable asset. I think the risk of me being in love with you is outweighed by my usefulness.”
“I hope you’re right.” Avior sighed. “Vindemiator’s human is going to try to plant the bug in the system tonight.” He kissed my forehead. “You should try to tell your friend with the wolf pack.”
“I’ll reach out.” I moved to get up off the edge of the roof—one of the camera blindspots—but Avior caught my hand.
“Starlight…” His voice was barely more than a whisper. “Be safe. If all this fails, I need you alive to hold as your world ends.”
“I know. I’ll be back soon. I promise.”
We shared one more long, desperate kiss before I slipped away. We still had work to do.
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viastro · 4 years ago
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in a span of three months | joshua hong
ミ★ synopsis: in which you teach joshua how to live.
ミ★ genre: strangers to lovers!au, terminally ill!reader, angst, fluff, some humor
ミ★ warnings: mentions of depression (not mentioned heavily), implied suicidal thoughts and intention (very brief), major character death
ミ★ word count: 20,351
ミ★ pairings: joshua hong x gender neutral reader
ミ★ notes: hi guys ! here’s the longest oneshot i’ve ever written so i’d like to apologize in advance BSJKGBDKB i just wanted to mention that this isn’t necessarily realistic before you go into it, and that the reader’s illness is not mentioned in this oneshot as i didn’t want to explicitly list one. i hope you guys enjoy this oneshot, it’s my best work and i put a lot of time and effort into it <3
ミ★ taglist: @coppertrashi @magicalhannie @brinnalaine @minluvly @wonunuu @suhfluffy @shuajeong @euphorencia @imjustuhhvibing​ @minghao-will-be-the-death-of-me @shuahaeee @jaeyuni @sunflowergyeomie
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january 2, 2021 
The date flashes back at you from your lockscreen, and a breath escapes you as you turn off your phone. Your leg bounces against the floor in anxiousness as you wait for him to tell you the results from your recent test.
“I’m sorry, yn.” You slowly look up towards your doctor, seeing the grave expression on his face. Your grip on the chair tightens when he folds his hands together, turning towards you. 
“We estimate that you only have three more months to live. We will give you medication…” The rest of his words are tuned out as your gaze falls down to the table, the sound of your heartbeat is loud against your ears. You bite the inside of your cheek, listening to it thrum. 
I’m dying, yet I can feel my heartbeat right now. I can hear it. It’s beating.
I’m alive.
You stand up from your chair when Dr. Park does, and you give him as bright of a smile as you can muster when you bow towards him. He stares at you with pity in his eyes, and you hate it.
You hate it so much.
“Eat whatever you want, do things you’ve always wanted to do. Live your life, yn. I’ll see you at your next appointment.” Dr. Park tells you, and you nod your head. Giving him a small smile, you grab your bag and walk out of the room, tightly squeezing the strap as you exit the hospital.
Once outside, you suck in a deep breath of air, having felt as if you were suffocating in that building the longer you were in it. Rubbing the back of your neck, you look over towards the Han River, seeing the Banpo bridge shine brightly during the night. 
Letting out a sigh, you head in the direction of the bridge, deciding to walk home rather than take the bus like you usually do. Your heart remains heavy as you look around at your surroundings, wondering what you should do during your last few months of living. 
It’s strange.
Having a known deadline on your own life.
As you make it onto the bridge, you turn your head to look out along the Han River as you walk. The slight wind from the water breezes past you during the night, and you somehow find that it’s the only thing able to calm you down from the raging storm within you. Letting out a small smile, you notice how pretty Seoul is at night.
With the city lights shining brightly back at you, the busy streets roaring with life even during the relatively late hours. The bright stars glowing down from the sky, surrounding the beautiful moon that reflects its light across the Han River. 
“Ah, life is beautiful.” You mutter softly, turning your head and looking forward. You raise an eyebrow when you see a blonde head of hair standing in front of the railing along the bridge, just staring out at the water. Coming to a stop, you stare at the person a few feet from you, wondering what they’re doing. 
Your eyes trail down to see his hands gripping the railing tightly, and you tilt your head at the sight. Taking a few steps forward, the man seems to have not noticed your presence. He just looks out across the water with a blank stare, the whites of his knuckles becoming more prominent when he tightens his grip again. At this point, you decide to interrupt.
“Hi.” You greet cheerfully, and the guy blinks out of his dazed state from the sound of your voice. He slowly turns his head towards you, and you feel warmth flood your face immediately at how ethereal this man is.
His platinum hair falls softly over his forehead, wisps of it flying up slightly due to the light wind. His deerlike eyes stare into yours, and you find that they emphasize his beautiful features that much more. However, the exhaustion is evident in his gaze.
“Hey.” The stranger replies, voice soft and airy, somehow matching his appearance even though he seems tired. 
“What are you doing?” You ask, stepping forward so that you’re now right beside him. His eyes widen slightly, before they relax to their normal size. He shrugs his shoulders, glancing over at the road when a car drives by. “Just standing on the bridge.”
You give him a close-lipped smile, tilting your head as you press on, “Why?” 
“Just cause.” 
You nod your head, turning around so that you can rest your forearms onto the railing. Raising your hand up, you rest your chin on the palm of your hand, letting out a sigh of content as you lay eyes on the beautiful scenery once again. The ethereal man turns to glance at you, wondering what you could possibly want.
“Live your life.” You say in a soft tone, and he simply blinks at you.
“What?” 
You turn your head towards the pretty man, “Life is short when you think about it. It can suck a lot of the time, as well as be unfair, but sometimes…” 
Your voice trails off as you look up at the stars, realizing just how small you are in this great, big universe. “Sometimes it can be beautiful.” 
The stranger tilts his head up and stares at the sky along with you, a comfortable silence settling over the two of you as you do so.
“I wish I could see it like you do.” You look over at him, finding that he’s still staring up at the sky. His breath is visible due to the cold temperatures, and you watch as he lets out a sigh. He turns towards you, giving you a heartbreaking smile, “Life hasn’t been kind to me.” 
The two of you stare into each other's eyes for a moment, and you find that you’re more similar than you originally thought. You feel the exact same way about life, and you’ve asked life for years, why you? Why did it have to be you? 
You could never find the answer.
And so, you smile at the stranger, who tilts his head at you, wondering how one can be so bright and cheerful. You reach into your pocket and pull out your phone, handing it towards him after you unlock it. He raises an eyebrow as he reaches out and takes it, “You know I could totally just take this and run, right?” 
You nod your head, letting out a quiet giggle that rings in the blonde’s ears. He finds the sound to be rather pleasant. “I know, but I have a feeling you’re not that type of person.”
He purses his lips, nodding his head in agreement. Glancing down at the cellular device, he sees your wallpaper, a photo of you holding a cat with a big smile on your face. His eyes trail back up towards your face, as if to ask what you want him to do with your phone. 
You sigh with a teasing look on your face, and you take the phone from his grasp, opening up the contacts menu before holding it back out towards him. “Put your number in.” 
The blonde’s eyes widen slightly, before he tentatively types in his number, handing it back to you. You grasp the phone in your hand, a breath leaving your lips when you finally learn his name.
“Why do you want my number?” He asks, and you look up from your phone, giving your new friend a smile. 
“Since life hasn’t been kind to you, I wanted to be.” You answer simply, and he stares into your eyes with an indecipherable emotion to them at your answer. 
After a moment, he turns his body towards the railing of the bridge again, staring out at the city without saying anything else. You follow suit, resting your forearms onto the cool metal as you breathe in the fresh air. 
“My name is yn.” You tell him in a soft voice, not expecting a response. A few minutes pass when you finally hear his voice say,
“My name is Joshua.” 
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Joshua taps the eraser of his pencil onto his notebook, blankly staring off at the projector screen while he tunes out everything the professor is saying. The only thing on his mind is you, the person he met last week on the bridge. 
You haven’t contacted him yet, and he’s beginning to wonder if you were just a figment of his imagination. That deep down, he wanted to stay, so his consciousness created a positive person to appear right before him, convincing him to live another day.
“Yn.” Joshua whispers underneath his breath, and he tilts his head to the side, having not realized how nice your name was until this very moment. He only pays attention to the lecture when his professor announces the homework, and he quickly jots down the page numbers to read. Throwing his bag over his shoulder, he steps out of the auditorium and begins to walk off campus. 
Some university students would usually go and meet up with their friends after class to go and eat, or they’d go and meet their significant other to study together. Then there’s Joshua, who does neither of those things. 
“Hey Josh.” The blonde nods his head at his boss in greeting, letting the door close behind him as he walks over into the back to change. 
Everyday Joshua just goes through the motions, doing what he has to do to survive, as dramatic as that sounds. Go to uni, work a six hour shift to pay for his tuition, head home and study, then barely sleep. He wakes up the next day and does it all over again. 
Joshua has gotten used to the feeling of being numb.
He tiredly ties the apron onto his waist before going and washing his hands. The call of his name makes him glance up from the floor as he wipes his hands on a paper towel, his boss appears at the doorway, holding the notepad and pen towards him.
Joshua sends him a tight smile, stepping forward and taking the pen and paper from his hand. He feels himself get a pat on the back as his manager walks past him, and he lets out a breath, before walking out into the restaurant. 
His eyes trail over to two women seated at a booth, waiting for their orders to be taken. Joshua doesn’t feel like going over there yet, as the words you told him that night ring in his head. 
Live your life. 
Joshua scoffs quietly, remembering the bright smile you showed him. He looks down at the notepad in his hand, wondering how you could find life to be so beautiful when he’s never seen it that way. His head snaps up when he hears his name be called, and he immediately walks over to the table, clicking open the pen.
“Hi. What can I get started for you guys today?” 
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“One sikhye please!” The woman nods her head at you, and you smile as you hand her the correct amount of money. She hands you your order number, and you walk over to the other side of the food stand, waiting to be called.
Your hands make their way into your pockets, your hand wrapping around your phone. Tilting your head, you remember the pretty blonde you met on the bridge. You suck in a deep breath of the cool air, looking up towards the sky to catch the beginning of the sunset. A smile makes its way onto your face at the different pink and orange hues of the sky.
You fail to notice the blonde head of hair looking in your direction, wondering how you always manage to have a smile on your face. It’s only when you feel that tingly feeling of someone staring at you that you look back down, turning your head to find those deerlike eyes boring into yours.
Your mouth drops open in surprise, and you grin happily, raising your hand up and waving towards the ethereal man. 
“Hi Jos-” You’re cut off when your order number gets called, and you hold up a finger at the blonde to signal him to wait, before quickly grabbing your sikhye and walking over to him. 
“Hi Joshua.” You finally greet properly, taking a tiny sip of the sweet rice drink as he stares at you quietly. He clicks his tongue, tilting his head at you, “You never texted me.” 
Pursing your lips at the fact that he was waiting, you slowly hold out the drink in apology. Joshua glances down at it, before looking back at you with a raise to his eyebrow. 
“Don’t you want it?”
“Take my apology drink.”
“But you just ordered this-”
“I can buy another one.” 
The corner of Joshua’s lip quirks up slightly, before he takes the drink from your grasp and takes a sip. You let out a smile, before pointing back towards the drink stand, “I’ll go buy myself another drink and then we can hangout.” 
You’re about to turn around when you feel a hand grasp your wrist, stopping you from walking over. Your eyes slowly glance down, before they trail back up to see Joshua staring at you, straw in his mouth as he takes another sip of the sikhye. 
He lets go of your wrist and walks over to the stand himself, ordering the drink for you. You’re left flabbergasted as he hands the employee his card, and you watch as a blush rises to the woman’s face the longer she communicates with the pretty man. 
Once he’s handed his order number, he walks back towards you, seeing the shocked look on your face. He raises his hand up and waves it in front of your face, and you finally look back into his eyes. 
“Why do you look so shocked?” Joshua asks, slightly biting on the straw as he awaits your response. Your mouth opens and closes, before you just let out a huff, reaching out and hitting Joshua’s arm softly. He still feigns pain, his hand reaching up and rubbing the area.
“Ow.”
You giggle at his reaction, “Thank you for the drink, Joshua. Except now I feel like the apology drink I gave you doesn’t count since you bought me one.” 
Joshua shrugs, looking back over towards the drink stand when he hears your order number be called. He shoots you a glance over his shoulder, “Consider it a gift.”
It’s only when Joshua walks back and hands you the sikhye that you wonder how he’s been doing. You stare at him for a moment as he places the receipt into his wallet, and you find that the darkness under his eyes is still evident. You even think they might be a bit darker than when you first saw him as he looks back up at you. 
“Is something on my face?” Joshua asks when he notices the furrow to your brow. Your eyes widen slightly and you shake your head, giving him a reassuring grin. “I just thought you were handsome.” 
Joshua’s mouth drops open at your honesty, while you internally panic at the fact that that was your coverup for staring at him. You watch as a tinge of pink appears on his cheeks, and you honestly find the sight so endearing that you have to look away. 
“Let’s go to the arcade!” You exclaim, not wanting to acknowledge the fact that you called him handsome as you point towards the colorful arcade down the block. Joshua raises an eyebrow, running a hand through his hair when he nods his head. “Okay.”
The two of you go on your way to the arcade, walking in a relative silence, the sounds of you both taking sips of your sikhye filling the quiet. Joshua pushes open the door for you, and you smile, nodding your head at him. 
“What a gentleman.” The blonde lets out a scoff at the nickname, and you giggle at his reaction once he steps inside after you. You both walk over to the machine that gives you the game card, and you quickly shove your credit card into the slot before Joshua can, effectively paying for the game card the two of you will share.
Joshua rolls his eyes as he takes another sip of his drink, “You should’ve let me pay for it.” 
You don’t respond, instead heading over to the racing games without another word. Joshua pauses when you glance over your shoulder with a smile, “Consider it a gift.” 
He watches as you skip towards the game with the motorcycle, the sight of your bright smile still imprinted in his brain. He shakes his head as if it’ll clear his thoughts, before following after you. 
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Joshua’s head falls back onto his pillows as he stares up at the ceiling of his dark room, the comforter resting over him. 
He’s always had trouble sleeping. It started out by him sleeping later and later as he grew older, until he could only fall asleep at around 4 or 5 in the morning. 
Joshua’s eyes trail over to the window beside him, and he lets out a quiet huff when he sees that the moon isn’t shining back at him. The stars are a bit dim, but they’re still evident in the dark sky. 
He looks back up towards the ceiling, and he closes his eyes when the thought of your smile comes into mind again. 
Joshua glances at you when you let out another giggle, and he finds himself wondering for the nth time how you can be so happy. You rest your head onto his shoulder for a second while you laugh, and he freezes slightly at the contact.
“Your face when I beat you at air hockey was so funny.” You manage to say through your laughing fit, reaching up to cover your mouth with your hand in an attempt to stop more giggles from pouring through. Joshua rolls his eyes playfully, remembering how happy you were when you won the arcade game. 
“Was it really that funny?” Joshua asks, and you nod your head with an incredulous look on your face. He lets out a sigh, placing his hands into his pockets as he looks up towards the night sky. The two of you fall into a comfortable silence, just enjoying the scenery as you calm down from the joys of the arcade. 
You turn your head to look at the blonde, “Did you have fun tonight?” 
The blonde doesn’t respond right away, instead letting his head fall so that he’s now staring at the sidewalk while the two of you walk to the bus stop. You nod, understanding that he probably didn’t enjoy the games as much as you did. 
“It’s okay if you didn’t. I know a few people who don’t actually like arcades-”
“I enjoyed it.” Joshua answers, turning to look at you with a close-lipped smile on his face. He watches as your eyes practically sparkle back at him from the sight. “Really?” 
Joshua nods his head, and you raise your hands up to your warm face, feeling accomplished. He looks away from you as the two of you continue to walk, finding you to be rather endearing. Once the two of you make it to the bus stop, you turn around to face the ethereal man, giving him a bright smile that makes his heart stutter within his chest. 
“I’m happy you had fun, Joshua. I’ll make sure to text you this time!” You say happily as the bus pulls up, and you raise your hand up to wave at him. 
Joshua keeps his hands in his pockets once you turn around and head onto the bus. He watches as you walk towards the window seat, immediately pulling open the window once you sit down. You give him another smile and a wave, and he tilts his head at you. 
It’s only when the bus pulls away from the curb that Joshua raises his hand up and waves back at you. 
Joshua’s eyes glance over to the window again, and he decides that you were brighter than all of the stars in the sky tonight. 
He manages to fall asleep earlier this time, around 2 am. 
Your smile was the last thing on his mind before he did so. 
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Joshua sits at his desk, mindlessly doing his homework as the soft guitar instrumental plays in the background of his room. He taps the eraser against his bottom lip, before pressing the led onto the paper again.
The sound of his phone receiving a notification captures his attention, and he glances down at the cool metal, seeing an unfamiliar number. He slides up on his lockscreen and reads the message.
you: joshua ! it’s me yn >:D
The blonde lets out a breathless chuckle, lifting up his phone and sending a response back.
joshua: so you actually texted me this time
you: don’t make me feel bad ! D: i was busy after i met you that night 
i gave you my sikhye last week to make up for it !
The corner of Joshua’s lips quirks upwards at your use of emoticons, knowing that you most likely pouted as you typed the message.
joshua: it was very good
you: i know right
anyways, do you wanna hangout later today? i wanna go to the park to take pictures when the sun sets
joshua: so you’re using me as your professional photographer
you: of course :3
joshua: pft
you: see you at around 5 <3333
joshua: i’ll see you
The blonde sets down his phone, running a hand through his hair as he looks out his window. The blue skies stare back at him, and he watches as a few birds fly past. His eyes trail back over towards his laptop, and he sighs. 
“I’ll finish this assignment before I start to get ready.” 
It’s only a few hours later that Joshua’s walking towards the park, hands in his pockets as he listens to the sound of life around him. He looks around at his surroundings, about to enter the park entrance when he catches sight of a tteokbokki stand.
He watches as a couple hands the lady some money, before she prepares their bowls that will hold the yummy rice cake. He specifically eyes the mozzarella cheese she layers over it, and Joshua suddenly wonders when he became hungry.
“I wonder if yn would want some.” Joshua mutters to himself, tilting his head the longer he debates on whether or not to spend his money.
He fails to notice you standing not too far from him, smiling as you watch him practically waddle in place as he stares at the food stand. You walk up to the blonde, reaching out and resting your hands on both of his arms, peering over his shoulder.
“Are you hungry?” Joshua chokes on his saliva at your sudden appearance, causing you to double over in laughter and apologies as you try to help him breathe properly. He squints at you when he finally regains his composure, still clearing his throat as he pats his chest. 
“I’m literally so fucking sorry.” His eyes turn into slits at your apology, watching as your shoulders shake from the laughter you’re trying to hold back. Joshua gently pushes you with his hand, before turning around and walking into the park, tteokbokki now forgotten.
“Joshua! I’m sorry!” You laugh from behind, walking faster in order to catch up to him. Joshua doesn’t respond, but he doesn’t pick up his pace either, instead letting you hurry to his side. You smile at him, peeking your head in front of his face so that he can look at you. “Do you forgive me?”
“You thought me choking was funny.” 
“True.” You admit, and Joshua scoffs at your answer, rolling his eyes teasingly as he nudges you with his shoulder again. You grin happily, nudging him back as you pull out your phone from your pocket. 
“The sun is setting which means we probably only have 20 minutes to take the best sunset photos known to man. You’re my designated photographer today, remember?” Joshua begrudgingly takes the phone from your grasp, and you walk onto the relatively empty field of grass, raising your arms up towards the sky. The blonde just lets out a sigh loud enough for you to hear as he goes onto the camera app, 
“Ah, what a tragic life I live.” 
“You should be happy that you’re photographing such beauty!” You shout, and the corner of Joshua’s lip quirks up when he sees the furrow to your brow. He lifts up the phone so that you’re in frame, but peeks his head out from behind it.
“Do you want me to just take a billion photos?” He asks, and you give him a thumbs up. The blonde nods his head, going back into photographer mode as he starts to take photos of you. 
You’re quite surprised at how seriously Joshua’s taking this photography gig, with the way he’s angling the camera and the straight face he has on. You find yourself giggling at the sight, causing the blonde to pause when he sees your smile through the camera. 
Your eyes widen slightly when you see him stiffen, realizing your laughter might’ve accidentally thrown him off his game, “Was my giggling bad? Sorry!”
Joshua shakes his head immediately at your apology, lowering your phone from his face so that you can see him properly. It’s as if your heart stops when you do look at him.
His platinum hair is flowing a bit with the wind, similar to when you first met him that night on the bridge. His deerlike eyes are boring into yours, and you find a tinge of pink dusting across his cheeks as he runs a hand through his hair. 
Joshua hides his face behind your phone again, wanting to capture your reaction when he says, 
“Don’t apologize. Your smile is pretty.”
Your mouth drops open at the compliment, having not received one from the past couple weeks of knowing the man. Joshua captures the moment on your phone, a breath leaving his lips when he sees a smile make its way onto your face. 
“Thank you.” You mutter, radiance to your features as you start posing again underneath the sky painted with various shades of pink and purple. He nods his head as he continues to capture more photos of you, silently wondering how he finds you to be prettier than the beautiful sunset behind you.
“No problem.”
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You stare into those lovely brown eyes with a determined look on your face, making the blonde raise an eyebrow at you in confusion. He reaches his hand out towards you, and you stare at it, wondering what he’s going to do. 
“Ow!”
It only results in you rubbing your forehead with a glare, while Joshua just goes back to drinking his coffee—now happy about flicking your forehead. You slam your fists gently onto the wooden table, and the ethereal man just stares at you in silence.
“You know what we should do?” You ask, and Joshua stays quiet, knowing you’re going to answer the question anyways. A grin makes its way onto your face as you give him jazz hands, “Go to the store so that I can buy groceries because my fridge is low.” 
Joshua lets out a sigh, giving you an unimpressed look as he turns to face out the window. He’s not surprised, really. The last time the two of you hung out was just Joshua accompanying you to the library so that you wouldn’t have to return your books alone.
“Come on! I’ll buy you any snacks you want while we’re there. Besides, grocery shopping is fun.” Joshua continues to sip from his drink, somehow not surprised that you find restocking your food supply to be fun either.
“Well, more fun when you’re with someone at least.” You correct, and the blonde finally peeks at you, seeing the knowing smile on your face. He glances out the window, shrugging his shoulders in an attempt to appear indifferent. “As long as you buy me the snacks I want.”
“Of course, Joshua. What kind of person would I be if I didn’t buy you your favorite snacks?”
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“No, not those snacks. Those are expensive.” Joshua just stares at you in silence, bag of chips in hand as he watches you reach out towards the off-brand version. You pick up the bag, holding it out towards the pretty man and waving it for good measure. “These are cheaper and taste the same. Trust me, Joshua.”
“You told me that you’d buy the snacks I wanted if I went grocery shopping with you.” Joshua mutters with a pout to his lips, and you simply flash him an apologetic smile as you toss the bag into the cart while taking the original one from his grasp and returning it. The blonde scoffs, nudging you with his shoulder, and you giggle as you walk off towards the next aisle. “Yes, but we’re on a budget here.” 
Joshua pushes the cart after you, listening contently as you explain what you’re missing at your apartment and what food you should make for dinner. His eyes follow your movements as you gesture with your hands, now explaining a story of how you almost set your toy kitchen on fire when you were younger. 
Your eyes twinkle underneath the fluorescent light, and your lips are turned upwards in a warm smile as you look back on the memory. Your voice is soft but cheerful as you tell him about the memory while throwing in some items into the cart, and Joshua finds that there’s a lump in his throat as he watches you giggle.
You turn your head to look at the blonde, just to find his pretty eyes staring at you with an indecipherable emotion in them. Feeling warmth flood your face from his stare, you look down at the cart to place the box of tea in your hands. 
“What’s on your mind?” You ask, proceeding to walk out of the aisle to go to the bread section. Joshua stays quiet for a moment, staring at your fingers peeking out of your sweater paws as your arms swing back and forth.
When you don’t hear a response, you move to glance back at him, only to pause when he pushes the cart forward so that he’s now walking right beside you. Joshua raises his hand up and fondly pats your head, making your eyes widen at the sweet gesture. 
You slowly turn towards him, just to find the smallest hint of a smile on his face. Warmth floods your face at the lovely sight, and you can’t help but feel slightly disappointed when Joshua’s hand falls back onto the cart handle. 
The two of you gaze into each other's eyes in silence for a moment, and you begin to wonder when that hint of a sparkle began to show in Joshua’s eyes over the last month of the two of you hanging out. He turns away when he feels the tips of his ears turn red, looking over towards the bread aisle. You watch as he takes a step forward with the cart as he suddenly says,
“Let’s get this bread.” 
You let out a loud laugh at the old meme, startled at the fact that Joshua even said that as you follow after him. 
As Joshua watches you choose the bread you want while also picking out some cookies for the two of you to share on the way to your apartment, he finds himself feeling content for the first time in a long time. 
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“Hope you enjoy it.” Joshua says as he places the last dish onto the table, giving the customers a tight smile before walking back over to the register. He rests his head into his hands, grimacing at the oncoming migraine he knows will come later in the hour. 
He peeks through his fingers to look at the clock, seeing that he’s still on shift for another three hours. The blonde lets out a quiet groan, wondering if his boss has any aspirin he could possibly take.
The sound of the bells chiming from the door opening is what has him look up, trying to mask the pain from his headache as he stares towards the entrance. His eyes widen slightly when he sees you standing there, a bright smile on your face as you wave at the pretty man. 
“Yn?”
You quickly walk up towards Joshua, feeling happy that you were able to come visit him during his shift. You slam your hand on the counter that keeps the two of you separated, while raising ₩20,000 towards his face with your other. Joshua simply raises an eyebrow at you, wondering why you look so determined.
“I’ll have your favorite dish from here and for you to eat it with me during your break.” 
“Are you trying to buy me, yn? My favorite dish is only 7,000 won-” 
“Now don’t make me sound like a bad person! You should be grateful I’m buying us food—your favorite nonetheless.” You whine, and Joshua just chuckles at the pout to your lips. You squint when he doesn’t take the money from you, only for your mouth to drop open in protest when you see him pull out his card.
“Joshua!”
“I’ll pay for the meal. It’ll keep me safe since you wanted to buy me-”
“I did not!” You laugh, watching as the receipt comes out from the printer after he pays for the meal. He places his card back into his wallet, before motioning towards a booth near the wall. “Go sit down, I’ll let my boss know I’m going on my 30.” 
You nod your head, walking over to the booth and sitting down on the rather worn out cushions. While you wait for Joshua, you rest your head onto your arms over the table, closing your eyes. A sad smile forms on your face when you hear your heartbeat in your ears, a reminder that your time left here is dwindling. 
It’s been a month and a few days since you found out about your ill-fate on that cold, January night. 
However, you haven’t found yourself thinking about your inevitable doom as often as you thought you would. Instead, you’ve been spending your days hanging out with Joshua, and using your nights to plan out the next place the two of you should go to.
You don’t know when you decided to spend your last three months trying to help Joshua see the beauty in life.
But as you look up from the table and see his pretty eyes starting to sparkle at you when he places the food down onto the surface, the corners of his lips quirking upwards as he explains how his boss was teasing him,
You realize that you wouldn’t want to spend them any other way.
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The two of you walk down the street side by side, taking sips of the sikhye you bought for the both of you to make up for the meal. The comfortable silence is settled over you guys like a blanket, not needing any words to be able to spend time with each other contently.
You take a peek at the beautiful man, suddenly noticing that the dark eye bags that once adorned his features have diminished significantly. The roots of his platinum hair are beginning to grow, but it seems like he doesn’t really care. 
You wouldn’t care if you looked like Joshua, either.
He’s too pretty.
“Who?” 
God fucking damn it.
You immediately look away from Joshua’s curious gaze, warmth flooding your face at the fact that you just blatantly announced that he was too pretty when the two of you were walking in a relatively comfortable silence. 
“Cha Eunwoo from Astro.” You lie, and the blonde nods his head in agreement after a moment, turning back to face the front. Silence falls over the two of you again, and you’re incredibly grateful that he didn’t ask more questions.
But you also find yourself a bit disappointed at the lack of them.
When the two of you end up at the front of your apartment building, you both turn towards each other to say your goodbyes. However, as the streetlight lays over Joshua’s blonde hair, almost mimicking the appearance of a halo, you realize you don’t really want the night to end.
“Thank you for visiting me at work, yn. Make sure to text me when you get into your apartment.” Joshua tells you with his soft voice. You hum in response, shifting from one foot to another. “Thank you for the food. I’ll try to visit more.” 
Joshua nods his head, raising his hand up to send you a tentative wave. “I’ll see you later, yn.” 
You smile softly, waving back at him as he turns around and starts to walk away. An internal battle goes on inside you as you try to figure out what you want to do, watching as his figure gets smaller as the distance grows between you.
Squeezing your eyes shut, you shout out:
“Do you wanna come in and watch a movie with me?!”
Joshua pauses at the question, like, physically and mentally freezes. His eyes are wide as he stares at the pavement, and he wonders why his heart is beating so fast in his chest at the question. There’s a small breeze that passes the both of you, and you bite your bottom lip.
The silence is deafening.
Joshua slowly turns to glance at you, and you feel your heart sink slightly at the shocked expression on his face. You’ve come to realize as the two of you look at each other, that you asking him to come in was a mistake. So you open your mouth to tell him he doesn’t have to,
“Okay.” Your mouth remains open at his answer, believing that you must’ve just imagined him agreeing to your suggestion. 
And so you respond, “Heh?”
Joshua huffs, walking over so that the two of you are only a foot apart. He squints at you, and you furrow your eyebrows in response to the expression on his face.
“Yes. I’ll come in and watch a movie with you.” 
“Oh.” 
The two of you stare at each other for another moment. With you just gauging what he said while Joshua stands in silence, amusement and shyness written across his features. 
You suddenly let out a gasp, the fact that he said yes now sinking in as you step over towards the entrance and slide your card so that the doors will open. Joshua chuckles at the obvious embarrassment on your face when the doors finally open and you gesture towards the inside of the lobby.
“Let’s go up.” You say with a tight smile, and the blonde nods his head, following after you as the doors shut behind the both of you. 
The way to your apartment is rather quiet, except for the quiet chuckles Joshua lets out whenever he glances at you and you having to elbow him in the stomach. 
When you finally unlock your door and the two of you step inside, you suddenly realize all of your medication that you have to hide. You turn to face Joshua as he slips off his shoes and steps into the pair of slippers you have for guests, and his beautiful eyes land on you, signaling that you have his attention.
“You can go and sit on the couch, I just need to tidy up a bit.” The blonde nods his head, watching as you scurry off to your bedroom, shutting the door behind you. He lets out a breath, before walking over towards the couch, gaze travelling around your cozy apartment. 
His eyes latch onto a framed photo on the table next to the couch, and he carefully picks it up, feeling warmth flood his chest at the sight. 
You’re standing underneath a fully bloomed cherry blossom tree, a bright smile on your face as you look at the camera. Your arms are lifted up towards the sky in excitement, a habit of yours that Joshua has noticed in the month that he’s known you. 
He gently places the photo back down onto the table when he hears your bedroom door open, and he looks over to see you now dressed in a set of strawberry pajamas. The sight is so precious to behold that Joshua lets out a soft smile, and your eyes widen when you see it.
He smiled. This is the first time you’ve seen him smile.
“Are my pajamas funny to you?” You squeak out in an attempt to not make him uncomfortable by mentioning his smile. Holding back from slapping yourself at your strange tone, you just watch as Joshua nods his head, an emotion akin to warmth flooding his beautiful eyes as he stares at you. 
“I expected nothing less from you, yn.” Joshua responds softly, and you find no sign of teasing in his voice. You cough into your shoulder, breaking the eye contact as soon as you feel heat rush up to your face. Reaching out towards the remote, you turn on the TV and point towards the couch. 
“Go sit and choose a movie, I’ll go and get us some snacks.” You tell the blonde, and he plops down onto the worn out sofa as you walk into your kitchen. His eyes trail after you for a moment, before he turns back to the TV and starts scrolling through your Netflix.
You come back a few minutes later with snacks in hand, just to smile at the movie he chose. Joshua glances towards you, quietly thanking you for the snacks as you settle down beside him, making sure to place a bit of distance between the two of you. 
“Have you watched this?” Joshua asks as he takes a bite of popcorn, and you nod your head, turning to him with a grin. “A Silent Voice is one of my favorite movies.” 
Joshua’s mouth drops open into an ‘o’ shape, before suggesting if you want to choose another movie. You shake your head, instead grabbing the remote from the table and pressing play. 
“You chose it, so we’re going to watch it.” You mumble, leaning back into the couch and taking a sip of your water. The blonde’s eyes linger on you as the opening of the movie plays, wondering how one person could be so kind, so bright. 
You feel Joshua’s eyes on you. You know that he’s staring at you. 
But you know that your heart would just go feral and your face would turn warm if you look back. So you blindly reach out towards him with your hand, turning his head to face the TV instead. You retract your hand afterwards, a small smile on your face as you notice Joshua shaking his head in disbelief at your actions.
“Watch the movie.” You mutter, warmth flooding your cheeks as you try to appear indifferent. The blonde takes another bite of popcorn before turning back towards the TV, trying to suppress his chuckles.
The two of you watch the movie in silence, except to offer each other snacks or to shit on one of the characters you each dislike. 
It’s nice. Joshua thinks to himself at one point, turning to glance at you when you giggle at a specific scene. He looks back at the TV, biting back a small smile from forming on his face, This is nice.
When the movie hits the 45 minute mark, Joshua finds that you haven’t been taking any sips of your water or stealing some pieces of his popcorn. He’s about to comment on one of the characters when he feels a weight slump onto his shoulder. 
“Yn?” Joshua asks quietly, turning his head to look down at you. Your eyes are closed, mouth slightly open as you release puffs of air. He lets out a smile when he realizes you fell asleep, reaching out and patting your head softly. 
“Silly.” He mumbles, before taking a glance at the clock and sees that it’s already midnight. The blonde carefully grabs the remote that sits on the table and turns off the TV, before moving the snacks and drinks off the couch to the best of his ability as he tries not to wake you up.
Once he’s done with that, he carefully settles you down onto the cushions so that you’re laying comfortably. He takes the throw blanket from the back of the couch and lays it over your body. Letting out a breath once he’s finished, he grins at the angelic expression on your face as you sleep peacefully.
“I’ll see you later, yn.” Joshua says softly, before turning around to walk towards your door. 
Except for the hand that grasps onto his own, preventing him from taking another step. 
He slowly turns to glance down at you, seeing you with your eyes still closed, hand holding onto his. Joshua makes a move to carefully release the grip you have on him, but freezes when you say in a soft voice,
“Stay.” 
Joshua stares at you, unsure of what to do as you continue to hold his hand. 
“You don’t want me to stay, yn.” Joshua mutters, an indecipherable feeling flooding him when your grip on his hand tightens a bit. 
“Stay with me, Joshua.” 
And so he does. 
He scoots you over on the couch, wondering whether or not he’s gonna fall to his inevitable doom during the middle of the night as the two of you can hardly fit on the small surface. Carefully, he lays onto his back, staring up at your ceiling as silence fills the room, the fuzzy throw blanket covering you both. 
You turn over so that you’re facing him, and your hand falls onto his stomach. The blonde just listens to the sound of your steady breathing, wondering how you fell asleep so fast as he feels himself beginning to become drowsy. After a few minutes, his eyes softly fall shut, breathing now matching your own.
Joshua finds that sleep comes easier tonight.
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You’re seated on the bench, waiting for Joshua to arrive as you stare at the date on your phone.
february 17, 2021
Letting out a breath at the harsh reality check, you tap your shoe against the pavement, turning off your phone to look out towards the road.
You have a month and a half left. 
“When did time move so fast? Whenever I was in the hospital it moved so slow.” You mutter, a sad smile gracing your features as you look around at all the people walking past you. Turning your head, you suddenly lock eyes with those  deerlike eyes you’ve come to know. 
Your once sad smile turns into one of pure joy as you stand up from the bench, waving your hands excitedly as Joshua walks over to you. The blonde reaches out and pats your head in greeting once he’s a foot away, and you chuckle in response, ignoring the fact that your heart rate is a bit faster now.
“How were classes?” You ask as the two of you begin walking towards the cat café. Joshua mentioned in passing a week ago that he wanted to go to a cat café, so you set up a reservation for the two of you. 
The blonde purses his lips, realizing that he’s been enjoying attending classes a bit more as of recently. You gaze at him expectantly, grinning when Joshua simply just nods his head and looks back at you. “It was alright. I was excited thinking about the cat café though, so I’ll probably have to add some stuff to my notes later.” 
“I expected you to be more of a dog person, if I’m being honest.” You state, and Joshua looks back towards the front, letting out a small grin. 
“I am.” 
“Then what are we doing going to a cat café that I made reservations for a week prior?” 
The blonde shrugs his shoulders, turning to you with mirth filling his pretty eyes. He motions towards your phone, and you raise an eyebrow, raising it up so that the two of you can see it as it unlocks. Your mouth drops open when you see your homescreen, the photo of you and your old friend’s cat that was taken a couple years back, and all the pieces suddenly come together. 
“Joshua! Did you only say you wanted to go to a cat café because you knew I liked cats? That ruins the whole purpose of this-” 
Joshua cuts you off by simply holding open the door to the cat café, and you blink in a state of stunned silence, having not realized that the two of you have already arrived. He chuckles, “I’m a dog person, but that doesn’t mean I don’t like cats. I’ve always wanted to go to one, so hurry up and go in.”
Pursing your lips, you walk into the café, but not without poking the middle of Joshua’s stomach as you do so, letting out a satisfied grin at the sound of his quiet squeak. Your mouth immediately drops open when a black and white cat snuggles up to your legs, and you kneel down, petting the soft fur as you let out inaudible excited sounds. 
Joshua lets the door close behind him, the sound of the bells attached to the door letting out a little ring throughout the café. He glances down, seeing you happily petting the cats before the two of you have even ordered. 
“Yn, I’ll go order for us.” Joshua tells you, and you simply nod your head without a verbal response, still softly squealing as more cats walk up to you. The blonde lets out a breath, shaking his head with the hint of a smile on his face as he heads over to the register to place your guys’ order.
You regretfully stand up from the floor, hoping the cats will follow you as you walk over to the table you reserved. You sit down in the booth, watching as Joshua converses with the employee as he orders the food and drinks. 
Resting your chin on the palm of your hand, you smile fondly when Joshua glances around to find you. Your heart warms when his eyes finally land on you, a grin forming on his face as he walks over to you. 
“There was a cat laying on the table behind the employee at the register. He was so cute, I hope he comes over to our table.” Joshua tells you as soon as he sits down into the seat across from you, placing the receipt onto the wooden surface. You open your mouth to respond, only to let out a quiet squeal when a cat jumps onto the empty space beside you. 
“Hi pretty!” You greet, sparkles in your eyes as the cat nuzzles against your hand, asking for more pets. Joshua smiles at the sight, unlocking his phone and taking a photo of you happily petting the tabby cat. The sound of the camera shutter catches your attention, and you turn to glance at the source, seeing Joshua smiling fondly down at his phone screen. 
“Did you take a photo of me playing with the beautiful cat?” You ask with a teasing grin on your face, not expecting an answer from the pretty man. You stroke the cat’s head fondly, only for your hand to stutter when Joshua says, 
“You looked cute.” 
A brief moment of silence passes between you, with Joshua staring at his phone, and you listening to your heart beat against your ears as warmth floods your face. Your brain tries to formulate a response, but it can only form inaudible screeching noises. So instead, you turn your head to glance at the blonde, only for your eyes to widen when you see a fluffy grey cat trying to get his attention.
“Joshua!” 
“What?” He asks, looking up at you when he hears the urgency in your tone. You point towards the cat sitting patiently beside his chair, and Joshua furrows his eyebrows in confusion, turning to where you pointed, only for his eyes to widen when he locks eyes with the cat.
“You followed me from the register!” Joshua exclaims in a soft voice, reaching down to pick up the cat. You let out a bright smile as Joshua coos at the precious animal, petting the cat softly as his eyes sparkle with joy.
“Yn, this is the cat I wanted to show you.” He tells you, letting out a soft chuckle when the cat nuzzles his head into Joshua’s chest. You nod your head, about to respond when the waitress walks up to your guys’ table and begins to place your order down onto the surface. 
“Thank you so much!” You say, and the waitress gives you a smile, bowing her head in response. She makes a move to leave, only to stop when she sees you and Joshua continue to play with the cats that stayed near you both. 
“Would you like me to take a photo of the two of you?” You and Joshua pause, both turning to glance at the waitress as she stands by your table, a knowing smile on her face. 
You and Joshua don’t have a single photo together in the month and a half that you’ve known each other. You’re not sure how he feels about his photo being taken, as he’s usually the one behind the camera rather than in front of it when the two of you are together.
Taking a peek at Joshua to see his reaction, you notice the indecipherable look on his face, and that’s how you know his answer. You give the waitress a small smile, moving to open your mouth when you see Joshua’s hand outstretched towards her through your peripheral vision. 
You turn your head to look at him, only to see that he’s giving her a grin, phone in hand as he nods his head. “That’d be nice, thank you.” 
Joshua lifts up the cat in his lap and stands up from his chair, taking a step forward and sitting down in the booth beside you. You continue to stare at him in silence, the slight shock evident on your features when he finally turns to glance at you. He gives you a soft smile, before pointing towards the waitress preparing to take your guys’ photo. 
“Say cheese!” She says, but you continue to stare at Joshua, watching as he smiles at the camera, raising the cat’s paw as if he’s saying hello. Warmth floods your heart as you turn towards the camera, a bright smile on your face as you hold up your cat’s paw as well, matching Joshua’s pose.
As you lay in bed hours later, you turn your head towards your bedside table when you hear the vibration of your phone. Reaching out, you pick up the cool metal, seeing a few messages from Joshua.
joshushushu: [attachment 4 images] 
thank you for taking me to the cat café :3
i think you’re some sort of cat whisperer based on how many cats came up to our table lol
it’s late, so you’re probably asleep
i’ll text you in the morning ^^
sweet dreams, yn
You tap on the images Joshua sent, and you let out a smile when you see the first photo is of you smiling happily down at the tabby cat, softly petting her head. Downloading the image, your thumb swipes across the screen, and you feel warmth flood your face at the fact that it’s the photo of the two of you. Except you’re not staring at the camera.
You’re staring at Joshua.
There’s a fond smile on your face, eyes sparkling brightly at him as he smiles at the camera, seemingly having no idea of the fact that you’re staring at him rather than the camera. Biting the inside of your cheek, you download the image and swipe to the left, now seeing the photo of both you and Joshua smiling at the camera, a cat paw in hand as you each make them wave for the photo. 
You download the photo before swiping to the left one more time, and your breath hitches when you lay eyes on the image.
You’re laughing happily down at the tabby cat who was protesting the grabbing of the paws for the photo, not paying attention to posing anymore. While Joshua is now staring at you, the softest of smiles on his face as he watches you laugh with the cat. 
You let out a shaky breath, zooming into the photo and seeing that he really is looking at you. 
He’s looking at you as if you’re the most precious thing in the world.
You download the image, a small smile on your face as you go to your settings and replace the homescreen you’ve had for the last two years, exiting the app to now see the photo of you and Joshua as your wallpaper. The warmth from the photo covers you like a blanket, and you turn off your phone, placing it back down onto your bedside table. 
You roll over onto your side and close your eyes, ignoring the harsh reality check that’s looming in the back of your mind in order to try and retain that happy feeling.
You fall asleep with lingering thoughts of pretty cats and Joshua Hong’s smile.
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“Thank you, have a good rest of your day.” Joshua says warmly as he hands the to-go bag to the customer. She gives him a smile, reaching into her pocket to take out ₩15,000 and place it onto the table. The blonde’s eyes widen slightly, and he looks back up at her in a stunned silence, as if to ask if she really means it. 
The woman nods her head, “You deserve it. Thank you for the food.” 
Joshua watches as she leaves the restaurant, still shocked as he watches her figure disappear out the door. He glances back down at the ₩15,000, reaching out and picking it up from the counter, eyeing the money for a moment. 
“I’ve been working here for six months.” Joshua mutters quietly, taking the ₩15,000 and placing it into his apron. He lets out a grateful smile, grabbing the spray bottle and towel to go and clean some tables. 
It was the first tip he’s ever received.
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“See you on Friday!” Joshua calls out as he pushes back the curtain to exit the kitchen, only to stop and turn back when he hears his boss call out to him. The older man walks over to Joshua, grinning and resting a hand on the blonde’s shoulder. 
“I just wanted to tell you that you look great lately.” Joshua raises an eyebrow, wondering what could’ve changed. He does a onceover of his own appearance, and his boss lets out a laugh, shaking his head. 
“I mean you in general. You look happier, brighter even. I’m happy for you.” Joshua blinks in surprise, before letting out a small smile. He bows his head as his thanks, and his boss pats his shoulder once more and turns around to walk back towards his office. 
Joshua lets out a breath, before closing the curtain behind him and walking over towards the exit. He tilts his head, “How does a person look happy?” 
He pushes open the doors and moves to step out from under the cover, only to pause when he registers the rain falling onto the road. He sighs, glancing down at his empty hands, cursing himself for not bringing an umbrella. 
“Guess I have to sprint-”
“Joshua!” The blonde’s eyebrows furrow at the voice, and he looks up, seeing you hurrying over with a bright yellow umbrella. It’s a stark contrast to the rather gloomy atmosphere and all the black umbrellas around you. His heart rate picks up at the sight of your smile, watching as you make your way over until you’re standing a couple feet away from him.
“How’d you know I forgot my umbrella?” Joshua asks teasingly as you hand him the yellow umbrella, taking it from your grasp and holding it over the two of you as you begin to walk down the sidewalk. 
“Had an intuition.” You answer with a grin, and he rolls his eyes. The two of you update each other on how your days were, chuckles exchanged as you explain how you made the best kimchi fried rice of your life. 
“You should make it for me sometime.” Joshua says, and you peek at him, smiling and nodding your head. 
“Of course, Joshua.” 
The two of you fall into a comfortable silence, walking close beside each other in order to fit under your small umbrella. It’s when you’re close to Joshua’s apartment, and the streets are relatively quiet, that Joshua glances over and notices your hand sticking out of the umbrella. He watches in silence as you let the rain hit your skin, moving your hand as if it were a wave in the ocean.
“Your hand is getting wet.” Joshua points out, and you pause, turning to him as warmth rushes to your face at the fact that he caught you. You give him a bashful smile, nodding your head as you let your arm fall back to your side. “Yeah.” 
“Why?” You notice that he looks genuine, there’s no teasing tone in his voice, no mirth in his gaze as he stares at you. He just wants to know why you were letting your own arm get wet. You break the eye contact, looking down at the ground as the two of you continue to walk. 
“I just realized I’ve never played in the rain before.” 
Joshua stares at you for a moment longer, having not seen you so shy about something you wanted to do before. He lets out a breath, turning away as he reaches up and closes the yellow umbrella, promptly removing the shield that had been protecting the two of you from the rain.
Your eyes widen as you feel the rain hit you, and you turn your head, seeing Joshua place your umbrella down on the sidewalk. He looks back towards you, raising an eyebrow when he sees the shocked expression on your face. 
Joshua simply just closes his eyes and tilts his head up towards the sky, outstretching his arms as he feels the rain soak his clothes. That’s all you need to see for a smile to finally form on your face, and you let out a laugh, raising your arms into the air and spinning around. 
Joshua opens his eyes when he hears your laugh, and he looks over at you—only to feel his breath get taken away. The rain falls softly from the sky, landing on you as you laugh happily, a bright smile on your face. Time seems to slow down as he stares at you, heart stuttering in his chest as he watches you spin around, pure joy radiating from your features. 
He’s reminded of the first time the two of you met on the Banpo bridge almost two months ago, when you told him that life was beautiful and he didn’t understand how you could see it that way.
“I wish I could see it like you do.” Joshua mutters, and you look over at him, finding that he’s still staring up at the sky. His breath is visible due to the cold temperatures, and you watch as he lets out a sigh. He turns towards you, giving you a heartbreaking smile, “Life hasn’t been kind to me.” 
As Joshua watches you dance in the rain, he realizes that he finally understands what you mean. 
Life is beautiful.
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You lay in bed, still shivering even after having taken a hot shower as soon as you finished dancing in the rain with Joshua a couple hours prior. With a shaking hand, you pull up the comforter closer to your chin, wondering when you’ve become so frail, weak you should say.
“At least Joshua hasn’t noticed anything.” You mumble, knowing that your time left is short as you’ve been feeling more tired as the days go by. Rolling over, you look out the window to try and get sleepy, seeing the moon staring back at you. 
Your hand slips out of the covers, reaching out and grasping the air as you tried to reach for the moon. Letting your arm fall back onto the bed, you let out a breath.
You always wondered if you’d ever be able to reach the moon and the stars when you were younger. 
“Yn?” Turning your head, you see Joshua standing by the door to his bedroom. His blonde hair falls softly over his forehead, almost hiding his pretty eyes from sight. You watch as he walks over, reaching out and resting his hand over your head when he notices you shivering. 
“Do you want another blanket? You’re shivering.” Giving him a soft smile, you shake your head as you simply pull the comforter up more. 
“Why are you still awake?” You ask, and he stares at you for a moment. 
The corner of his lips quirk upwards, “I should be asking you the same thing.” 
“Touché.”
Joshua chuckles, patting your head fondly before pointing back towards the bedroom door. You peek through the doorway, seeing his dark living room. “I’ll go back to the couch. I just wanted to check on you.” 
It’s when he’s about to leave that you reach out and grasp his wrist softly, promptly stopping him from taking another step. He turns to look back at you, seeing the same shy look on your face that he saw earlier. 
He’s reminded of the night where the two of you slept on the couch a few weeks prior, having experienced this exact scenario before. 
“Mm?” You bite the inside of your cheek, not wanting to respond. Instead, you weakly pull him towards you, and he takes a few steps towards your bedside. 
The two of you stare at each other for a moment in silence, numerous questions flooding your guys’ brain as you do so. However, you can only bring yourself to mutter out one word.
“Stay.” 
Joshua’s stare doesn’t waver, and you feel yourself growing more embarrassed the longer you wait for his response. You fully believe that he’s going to say no with the way he doesn’t hold your hand in return, and your belief comes true when he lets your hand fall back to the bed. 
It shouldn’t hurt. You know that you shouldn’t have gotten attached to him, or let him become so close to you. 
You’re going to die anyways.
Joshua turning down your request is for the best. It means there are still barriers between the two of you, that the last time you woke up with his arms wrapped around you was just a moment of weakness. That it won’t happen again.
The regret pools in your heart as you watch him turn and walk away, and you wonder whether or not you should apologize for even asking him in the first place.
Only for your eyes to widen when you see him walk to the other side of the bed, pulling up the comforter and climbing in. He arranges his pillows, before laying down and turning over onto his side, now facing you. 
You stare at him in shock, and he squints at you in amusement. The blonde reaches out and pokes your forehead, snapping you out of your surprised state. He chuckles, “You asked me to stay, so I’m staying.” 
A smile finally makes its way onto your face, and Joshua lets out a breath at the sight. The moonlight rests over you, illuminating your features beautifully, even in his dark bedroom. He feels himself smile back at you, eyes softening with fondness as he stares at you.
You tentatively reach your hand out, trying your best to hide the shakiness to it as you let it rest on Joshua’s cheek. He doesn’t seem unphased from the touch, he just continues to stare into your eyes as the look on your face softens.
“You look best when you’re happy.” You say quietly, and the blonde doesn’t respond. You watch as tears slowly fill his eyes, and your eyebrows furrow. You’ve never seen Joshua cry, not once in the time you’ve known him. Unexpectedly, Joshua’s hand comes out from under the covers and rests over yours, encompassing your cold hand in warmth. 
“I want to be a better person for you.” Joshua mutters, blinking away the tears as he tries to look at anything else in his room. You shake your head, your own heart breaking within your chest at how vulnerable he looks. You swipe away the tears from under his eye, and his eyes flit back to you, watching as a soft smile forms on your face. 
“You… you have always been more than enough, Joshua.” 
The blonde lets out a breath at your response, before his eyes softly fall shut. Your heart is warm within your chest as you let your eyes linger on him for a moment longer, his hand still resting over your own as he tries to fall asleep. 
Your gaze trails over back towards the window, seeing how bright the moon and millions of stars are in the dark sky. 
You may not have reached the moon and the stars like you originally wanted.
You look back towards Joshua, content washing over you when you listen to his steady breathing, seeing that he’s already fast asleep. You remove yours and Joshua’s hand from his cheek, letting it rest onto the mattress. A smile escapes you when you feel his hand tighten softly around yours in his sleep. After a moment, your eyes slowly fall shut with Joshua being the one to keep you warm, hand holding your own as the two of you fall asleep facing each other.
But you’ve reached the sun, and that’s more than enough.
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You stare at your medicine, wondering if you should even take it when you don’t have much time left. Shaking your head, you let out an aggravated sigh, taking out the pill and dry-swallowing it. 
You immediately regret dry-swallowing the large pill as you grab your glass of water, taking a large gulp to try and swallow it properly. Letting out a cough, you walk over to your fridge, not even feeling hungry as you stare at the food in it. 
march 18, 2021
It’s been two months. 
Your time is running out.
You’re about to grab a small container of yogurt when you hear your phone go off, and you glance over to see the screen lit up. Closing your fridge door, you walk back over to the counter and pick up your phone, a grin immediately forming on your face when you see that Joshua texted you.
joshushushu: be ready at 8 later, i’ll come pick you up !
you: so you’re the one planning now, huh? 
since when were you coming for my career
joshushushu: you’re just jealous cause i’m better at it
you: take that BACK.
joshushushu: see you at 8 <3
you: JOSHUA
You chuckle, turning off your phone and looking back towards your refrigerator. Letting out a sigh, you walk over and take out the yogurt, grabbing a spoon and dipping into the snack. You quietly eat the yogurt as you walk over to your living room window, staring out at the city. 
The skies are blue, a contrast to the cloudy days Seoul had for the last couple of weeks. Your eyes follow the birds that fly past your window, watching as they get smaller and smaller the farther they go. You let out a sigh, taking another spoonful of yogurt.
“What a beautiful day.” 
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“Are you okay?” You turn your head to glance at Joshua, seeing the look of concern on his face as he looks at you. Giving him a smile, you nod your head, reaching up and rubbing the back of your neck as you look out the window of the bus.
“I’m okay, just tired.” The feeling of Joshua’s eyes on your side profile remains, and you hope that he doesn’t question it anymore. The blonde simply smiles, patting the top of your head fondly. “You can sleep, yn. I’ll wake you up when we get there.” 
You bite the inside of your cheek at his kindness, and nod in response. You rest your head against the window and close your eyes, ignoring the rumbling from the bumpy road. 
A few minutes pass of Joshua scrolling through his phone when he sees your head moving out of the corner of his eye. He looks at you, seeing your head bumping against the window whenever the bus drives over a pothole in the road, somehow still fast asleep.
Joshua reaches out and softly grasps your head, pulling you over so that you’re now resting on his shoulder. He stares at your sleeping face for a moment longer, finding that you look at peace as you sleep. 
“Pretty.” Joshua mutters, before looking out towards the window for the rest of the way.
It’s only half an hour later when you feel a hand gently shaking your shoulder, and Joshua’s soft voice telling you to wake up. Groggily, you open your eyes and sit up in the seat, scratching your head. You turn and look up to find Joshua standing up from the bus seat, throwing his bag over his shoulder. He lets out a giggle at how sleepy you look, “Come on. We’re here.” 
Turning towards the window, you see the Han River glimmering back at you. Raising an eyebrow, you stand up from the seat and look at Joshua, who’s just giving you a close-lipped smile. He extends his hand out towards you, and you stare at it.
After a moment, you reach out, feeling his warm hand encompass your cold one. He grins, giving your hand a squeeze before turning and guiding you off the bus. The two of you walk in silence as he leads you towards the top of a hill, but it soon becomes hard to breathe. 
“J-Joshua.” You wheeze out, and the blonde pauses, turning to see you doubled over. 
“Are you okay? Do you want to take a break here?” You don’t respond, instead trying to catch your breath as you hold onto Joshua’s hand like a lifeline. His eyebrows furrow, and he squats so that he can look into your eyes, watching as you begin to breathe properly again.
“Yn.” 
“Mm?” 
“We gotta work on your endurance.” Joshua jokes, and you let out a laugh, reaching out and slapping his shoulder as you stand up straight. He giggles, feeling relieved that you’ve caught your breath. He gives your hand a squeeze when he gets up from his squatting position, and you look at him. “Ready?” 
You nod your head, squeezing his hand in return, “Ready.” 
Joshua smiles, leading you towards the top of the hill once again. He makes sure to keep glancing back at you and even slows his pace as a means for you to not get exhausted again. 
When the two of you finally reach the top of the hill, he lets go of your hand, and you pout at the loss of warmth. You’re about to ask why he brought you here, only to stop when you see him unzip his bag, pulling out a picnic blanket and laying it onto the cold grass. 
“A picnic? At 9 pm?” You ask, only for Joshua not to respond as he just slips off his shoes and lays down onto the checkered blanket. You smile in amusement, tilting your head as you wonder what he’s doing. 
Joshua lets out an exasperated sigh, reaching out and patting the empty space beside him on the blanket. Pursing your lips, you slowly slip off your sneakers and climb onto the blanket, carefully laying on your back. Your head is turned to him, and you’re about to ask what now? Only for Joshua to gently grasp your chin, turning you away until you look up towards the sky and-
Wow. 
The millions of stars are shining brighter than you’ve ever seen. It was as if someone gathered a handful of sparkles and scattered them across the wide expanse of the dark sky, bringing light to unappreciative eyes. 
Joshua turns his head to see your reaction, and he smiles at the bright look to your eyes, your mouth being dropped open slightly in awe. 
He knew of your fascination with the sky ever since the two of you met on Banpo bridge. From the way your eyes sparkled at the sight of the moonlight reflecting across the river, to the content smile that would make its way onto your face whenever you’d look up towards the moon.
And so, whenever he would finish his evening classes at university, he’d take the bus to different parks and look for the spot that had the best sight of the sky at night.
Joshua wanted you to be able to reach the stars. 
“Do you like it?” You turn towards the pretty blonde, seeing the slight apprehension on his face in fear that you won’t be happy with his surprise for you. You watch as it melts away from the sight of your bright smile, and a breath of relief escapes him. 
“I love it.” 
The two of you turn back towards the sky, pointing at different constellations and talking about which star shines the brightest among the millions you can see. You let out a laugh when Joshua mistakenly points out lights from a plane as a shooting star, and he rolls his eyes, but the fond smile on his face tells you that he’s anything but annoyed. 
The two of you fall into a comfortable silence afterwards, just appreciating the beautiful sky. You feel warm, even though you’re in this cold weather, you somehow feel warm just by being with Joshua. The bright stars shine down at you, and you slowly raise your arm up to the sky.
Joshua’s eyes follow your hand, watching as it grasps at the air. His gaze trails down to your face, seeing you stare up at the stars with an indecipherable emotion in your eyes. He turns away, and your arm falls back down to your side. 
“What’s something you want to do with me?” Joshua asks, breaking the comfortable silence. You purse your lips, finding the question hard as you wonder how you could even answer this. 
You want to do everything with him.
You want to go to a karaoke place with him, go bowling, go to an amusement park and eat all the festival food. Watch a movie, play in the snow and build a snowman. Go to the beach and make sand castles, go grocery shopping, visit him at work. Go to uni with him, go on a walk, talk about your day, make him kimchi fried rice. Everything. 
You want to do everything with Joshua. 
Letting out a shaky breath, your eyes trail over to the trees down the hill, lined up on the sides of the pathway. You stare at the unbloomed buds, already seeing the beautiful flowers in the back of your mind that you know you won’t be here in time to see.
“Cherry blossoms.” You utter, and the blonde turns to you.
“Hm?”
“I want to see the cherry blossoms with you.” Joshua lets out an, ah, a smile forming on his face at the thought of seeing the beautiful pink flowers with you. He looks back up towards the stars, “Cherry blossoms were always my favorite flower.” 
You listen to Joshua’s soft voice, holding onto every word as you stare down at the unbloomed trees. The blonde lets out a breathless chuckle. “April was my favorite month because that’s when the cherry blossoms would bloom, but I stopped being excited for them a couple years back.” 
Joshua grins, heart growing warm in his chest when he thinks of you spinning around excitedly underneath the cherry blossom trees, the pink petals softly falling around you. 
“But I’m excited to see them with you, yn.” 
Your heart wavers in your chest at Joshua’s sweet words, and you clench your fist at your side. Tears fill your eyes as you look away from the unbloomed cherry blossom trees, gaze trailing back up towards the stars. A tear escapes your left eye as you choke out, 
“I’m excited to see them with you too, Joshua.” 
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Laying in bed, you stare up at the ceiling tiredly, having lost almost all your energy a week ago. You roll over and look at your phone, watching as the screen lights up.
march 23, 2021
You let out a shaky breath, knowing that you should admit yourself to the hospital within a few days. However,
You open up your messaging app, tapping on your conversation with Joshua.
you: joshuaaa 
be ready at 2 ! i prepared a fun day for us :)
joshushushu: does it involve you paying for our meal? 
you: capitalism is the root of all evil.
but yes. yes it does.
joshushushu: okay epic, i’m in.
i’ll see you later ^^
you: see you <3
Turning off your phone, you take in a deep breath, before slowly climbing out of bed. The exhaustion weighs over you like a blanket, but you push yourself to make it to the bathroom to shower.
You need to get ready to spend one last day with Joshua.
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Sitting on the bench at the bus stop, you stare down at your sneakers as you wait for the pretty blonde to show up. It took you a while to get to the bus stop, as you felt even more exhausted by the time you stepped out of your apartment complex. You took your medicine and attempted to eat some food, but to no avail. 
The sunlight that was once shining down onto you suddenly disappears as you were thinking to yourself, and you look up to see Joshua grinning down at you. 
“What did you plan for today? Grocery shopping?” He asks, and you roll your eyes, standing up when you notice the bus heading your way. Nudging his shoulder, you answer, “No, something better than restocking my food and cleaning supplies.” 
Joshua lets out a mock gasp, making you giggle as the two of you climb onto the bus. You sit down in the window seat, the pretty man following soon after and continuing what he was saying. 
“Better than following you around the grocery store while pushing a cart for an hour? No such thing.” You laugh, slapping his leg and shaking your head at him. He grins, reaching up and patting the top of your head fondly. 
“I’m kidding. Doing anything with you brightens my day either way.” Joshua confesses, and you freeze slightly, before regaining your composure. Giving him a tight smile, you turn and glance out the window, watching as the world passes by. Cars filled with people going to wherever it is they’re going, people waiting on the crosswalks to cross the street, children screaming and playing on the playgrounds.
The world is roaring with life. 
“I’m happy for them.” You whisper, before closing your eyes. 
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“Yn, you shouldn’t have.” Joshua says when you lead him towards the entrance of a dog café. You grin, shrugging your shoulders as you muster enough strength to pull open the door. “You’re a dog person. I am simply returning the favor.” 
The blonde chuckles, stepping into the café with you following after him. You reach up and hold your bicep, lightly rubbing the area as it feels a bit strained. Your arm immediately falls back to your side when Joshua stops and turns to glance at you, wondering why you’re behind him. 
He lets out a fond smile, reaching his hand out towards you. “Come on, let’s go see the dogs.” 
Your eyes slowly trail down to his hand, warm and inviting. A stark contrast to what yours have become, cold and lonely. You look back up at Joshua’s face, seeing him tilt his head at you, waiting for you to grasp his hand. 
He watches as an indecipherable emotion passes your eyes, before you let out a smile and walk up to him, intertwining your fingers with his. He grins, and the two of you walk further into the café, only to be greeted by a golden retriever. 
Your eyes widen in surprise at the beautiful dog, and you’re about to bend down to pet it—only to stop once the sound of Joshua’s happy laugh rings in your ears. You turn to look at him, finding him patting the dog’s head with a bright smile on his face. 
“Come on puppy, yn and I have to go order our food.” Joshua says softly, before leading you towards the register. You let out a happy squeal when you see all the other dogs roaming around the tables, feeling excited to play with all of them. 
You and Joshua tell the employee what you’d both like to order as a few dogs come to stand beside the two of you. When you’re told the price, you reach into your bag with your free hand to pull out your wallet, only for your mouth to drop open when you see Joshua already handing the employee his card. 
“Joshua! I wanted to pay for us.” You whine, and he simply squeezes your hand with an accomplished grin on his face. He thanks the employee once he’s handed back his card along with the receipt, before turning to face you. 
“You’re just too slow~” Joshua teases, and you squint. You open your mouth to start complaining more, only to pause when you hear the employee’s voice ring out. 
“Sorry to interrupt, but if you’d like, we have a photobooth that you both could go take pictures in.” They tell you with a shy smile, pointing towards the back of the café where the photobooth is, and your eyes brighten at the idea. 
“Thank you so much!” You say, before pulling Joshua in the direction of the photobooth, your free hand already holding your wallet so that you can pay for it. 
“Yn-” You immediately shove your card into the reader when the two of you step into the small box, closing the black curtain. The blonde chuckles at your determination, and you smile as you pull out your card once the payment is accepted.
“How should we pose?” Joshua asks, and you shrug as you watch the timer start to count down. 
“You just gotta feel it.” 
“That’s not helpful at all.” 
“Just follow my lead.” You say with a laugh, and he grins in amusement, turning back towards the screen. The two of you lean your heads closer to each other, and you wink while Joshua simply smiles as the first photo is captured. 
This continues for the next three photos, with the two of you laughing and doing different poses for the photostrip. You both climb out of the small box, waiting for the two photostrips to be printed as you talk about how silly you each must look.
“Ah, they’re printed.” You say once the two photostrips fall out, and you grab them both. You hand one to Joshua, and you hear him let out a small giggle. 
You stare at the photostrip quietly, gauging the photos. Warmth floods your chest at the third panel in particular, and you let out a breath.
This was when the two of you missed the countdown as you were both facing each other and laughing. Joshua’s eyes are bright and filled with warmth, a smile on his face as he looks at you in the photo. Then there’s you, mid-laugh, nothing but joy over your features.
“Wow.” You breathe out, and Joshua chuckles at your reaction, nudging you with his shoulder. You blink, looking away from the photostrip and redirecting your attention towards the blonde. “Mm?”
He points towards the table in the corner, where quite a few dogs are resting around. “Let’s go sit there.” 
You bite back a laugh, knowing exactly why he wants to sit at that exact spot. Nodding your head, you grin when you see his features brighten, and the two of you walk towards the table. The dogs perk up at your guys’ arrival, almost all of them going around Joshua as the two of you sit across from each other.
“So cute!” Joshua exclaims, a big smile on his face when the golden retriever from earlier rests its paws on Joshua’s chair, licking his face excitedly. The corners of your lips quirk up, and you take out your phone, opening the camera app. 
You watch as Joshua grins, petting the golden retriever to try and calm them down as they continue to attempt to lick his face. Tilting your head, you take the photo right as Joshua breaks out into laughter. 
You lower the phone from your face when Joshua turns towards you from the sound of the camera shutter, and he lets out a grin when his gaze trails over to your left hand side.
“So busy ogling me that you didn’t even notice the cute puppy waiting for your attention.” Your eyebrows furrow at Joshua’s sentence, and you turn your head to the left, expecting nothing, only for your eyes to widen when you see the precious corgi sitting beside you in the booth, tail wagging as they stare at you. 
“Oh my God. Hi baby!” You coo, reaching out and finally giving the attention the corgi had been wanting from you. The corgi licks your wrist, and you giggle, petting their back as you turn to shoot a glare towards the blonde. He raises an eyebrow at the squint to your eyes, and he tilts his head in question.
“I was not ogling you!” You exclaim, and Joshua lets out an angelic laugh that makes your heart do a somersault within your chest. A sheepish smile forms on your face, destroying the “angry” persona you were trying to put on.
“Yeah, yeah. Tell it to the judge.”
“Joshua!” You laugh, and he laughs along with you. 
Your guys’ laughter rings throughout the café for the rest of the afternoon, pure happiness exuding from the two of you.
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“Oh sikhye, how you never fail me.” You say lovingly to the drink in your hand. Joshua simply chuckles at your antics, taking a sip of his own sikhye as the two of you walk on the sidewalk towards the bridge. 
“Thank you for taking me to the dog café, I had a lot of fun.” Joshua tells you, and you nod your head, a smile forming on your face when you remember how many dogs had been around your table. 
“You’re like a dog magnet, while I’m a cat magnet.” You point out, and the blonde purses his lips in thought, before nodding his head in agreement. “That makes sense.” 
The two of you fall into a comfortable silence as you make your way onto the bridge, the sounds of the cars driving past you both filling the quiet.
“I feel like you could be a catboy, though.” Joshua accidentally snorts his sikhye at your abrupt comment, and you burst out into laughter as he doubles over, coughing up the drink. Patting his back, you wait for him to calm down as he slowly stands back up to his full height, taking deep breaths. 
“A catboy?”
“I cannot believe me calling you a catboy made you snort your drink.” You say, the corners of your mouth twitching as you try to hold back from smiling. The blonde catches this though, and he reaches out and pinches your cheek. 
“Hey!” 
Joshua smiles at your reaction, feeling satisfied that he got his payback after you made him snort his rice drink. He’s about to ask why you think he’s a catboy when he notices you walking up to the railing of the bridge.
You rest your hand onto the cold railing, staring out at the sight laid before you. The skies are painted in various shades of pink, blue, and purple. The sun is setting in the distance, the dark orange reflecting off the Han River, making the water glimmer. 
“It’s…”
“Beautiful.” Joshua finishes, and you turn to him, seeing the sparkle to his eyes as he stares at the scenery. You’re reminded of the cold January night where you met him over two months ago. 
His eye bags are practically gone and the hunch to his shoulders are now replaced with confidence. His features are glowing, looking healthy in comparison to before, but it’s his eyes that have changed the most. His eyes no longer appear exhausted as he turns to look at you, now replaced with something along the lines of content.
“We met on this bridge over two months ago.” You state, and Joshua doesn’t respond. He looks back out towards the water, resting his forearms onto the railing as the thought of that night comes to mind. You follow suit, taking a sip of your sikhye as the two of you stare at the scenery in silence, the memories the two of you made over the last two months playing in your head. 
“You know when I said I couldn’t see life as something beautiful? And that it wasn’t kind to me?” Joshua asks after a moment, and you nod your head, the memory fresh in your mind.
He lets out a breath, “Two months ago, life was so hard for me that I couldn’t even think of trying anymore. So I didn’t understand what you meant when you said that life was beautiful.” 
Your hand squeezes the railing, but you don’t turn to look at Joshua. You know that he wouldn’t want you to look at him as he addresses what he didn’t want to even mention for the last two months. 
Joshua glances at you, the sunset no longer capturing his attention. A small smile escapes him as he stares at you, heart warm within his chest. 
“I understand what you mean now.” You turn to look at him, immediately locking eyes with the ethereal man. The small smile on his face turns into a full one when he stares into your bright eyes, feeling happy just by being with you. 
Joshua turns away, looking back out towards the sunset. Your heart swells with warmth and heartbreak when you hear him say,
“Life is beautiful.” 
You don’t respond right away as you struggle to hold back the tears from escaping. Your eyes remain on the scenery laid before you, doing your best to control your breathing as you watch the sun set below the city. 
Letting out a breath, you feel Joshua turn to look at you with his soft eyes. 
Joshua’s happy, so you’re happy. 
You turn your body towards Joshua and give him a tight smile as you raise your arms into the air. The blonde grins, reaching out and taking the sikhye from your hand when he notices some of its contents spill onto the pavement from your gesture. You giggle at your clumsiness, and he just shakes his head. 
“What would you do without me?” Joshua asks with a smile, and you shrug your shoulders, turning and beginning to walk in the direction of the bus stop. He tilts his head at you, and he watches as you turn and glance at him with a smile. 
“I wouldn’t be as happy as I am now!” You answer, turning away before you get the chance to see Joshua’s reaction. Swallowing the lump in your throat, you swing your arms as you walk, suddenly wishing you had your sikhye in your hand. 
The sound of running footsteps makes you glance back, only to let out a loud laugh when Joshua’s arm suddenly wraps around your shoulders, the sound of his giggles ringing in your ear. He holds out the drink in your direction, and you grin, taking it from his grasp.
As you take a sip of the sweet rice drink, you let out a sigh. You take a peek at Joshua, finding the hint of a smile on his face as he drinks his own beverage in his other hand. He notices your eyes on him, and he looks at you, a warm expression forming on his face. He leans in and gently nudges your head with his, before turning back towards the front. 
It’s as if all the sadness, anger, and pain melts away from the fond gesture. A shy smile breaks out onto your face as you turn away, letting out a sigh of content.
“Ah, what a beautiful day.”
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Joshua glances down at his phone while he waits in the elevator as it goes up to the eighth floor, the floor in which your apartment resides.
april 6, 2021
You haven’t contacted Joshua since the day the two of you went to the dog café, let alone open his texts. He’s been texting you everyday and even calling you to try and get a response, but to no avail.
So he finally decided to go visit your apartment to check in on you and ask what happened. 
As the elevator doors open, Joshua steps out and walks down the hallway. Once he turns left to enter the other hall, his eyebrows furrow when he notices the man standing in front of your door. He walks up to the man, who glances up towards the blonde when he catches sight of him through the corner of his eye.
“Do you know yn?” Joshua asks once he’s a few feet away from the older man. The gentleman nods, holding up his ID card, “I’m their landlord.” 
Joshua almost lets out a breath of relief, finally having met someone who could possibly know where you’ve been. The blonde points towards your apartment door, “Yn hasn’t contacted me in like, two weeks. Do you know if they’re home or if they went somewhere-”
“You don’t know?” Your landlord asks, and Joshua pauses. A feeling of dread runs down his spine when he sees the look of pity appear in the older man’s eyes when Joshua shakes his head, no. 
The dread soon turns into regret when the landlord informs him of the information he hadn’t known for the last three months.
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“Are you comfortable?” The nurse asks as she replaces your tube. You give her a weak smile, glancing out the window and staring at the birds flying past it as you answer, “As comfortable as I can be.”
Once the nurse finishes cleaning you up, she bows in your direction and steps out of the room. You let out a breath, eyes trailing down to your phone. You press your finger to the screen, and the photo of Joshua that you took at the dog café shines back at you. 
A soft smile escapes you when you see how brightly he’s laughing, the sound of his joyful laughs still ringing in your ear as if he was here with you. The brief moment of happiness you feel turns into one of guilt when you’re reminded of all the messages, missed calls, and voicemails he’s left you for the last two weeks. 
It’s for the best, you remind yourself. You want him to be happy, and knowing that you’re on your literal deathbed would take that away from him. 
You bite the inside of your cheek once you feel the tears rise to your eyes, and you let out an annoyed huff. In an attempt to make the wetness to your eyes disappear, you move to stare up at the ceiling, only to freeze when your gaze lands on the doorway. 
“Joshua?” 
The blonde is standing there, chest rising and falling as he stares at you, pain evident in his gaze. His eyes trail over your appearance, wondering how he didn’t see the signs from the beginning. From the times you told him you were having trouble sleeping, the loss of appetite, how easily exhausted you would become from simply laughing too hard in the recent weeks.
How could he not know? 
“Yn.” Joshua breathes out, walking over to your bedside and sitting down in the chair. Feeling the tears flood your eyes, you look away from him, staring down at your hands in shame. 
“How did you find out?” You ask in a quiet voice, knowing he’s going to hate you for not telling him. When you don’t hear his response, the tears escape your eyes, falling onto the hospital blanket. 
“I’m so sorry Joshua.”
“I’m so selfish.” Your eyes widen slightly, and you look up from the blanket, only for your heart to break within your chest when you see the tears falling past Joshua’s eyes. 
“I-I hated my life and I openly complained about it in front of you, but you were going through so much worse and you still saw the beauty in it.” Joshua mutters, his hands reaching up towards his face as he tries to wipe away his tears. “I’m so sorry, yn.” You feel a sob bubble up in your chest, and you shake your head at him. 
“Don’t compare your struggles and pain to mine. Your struggles and your pain are valid. You have nothing to apologize for.” You tell him, vision becoming blurry as you reach out towards him with your hand. Joshua bites his bottom lip, before grasping your cold hand with his warm one. 
“It’s not fair.” Joshua mutters, and you blink at him. His hand tightens gently around yours, and he looks up into your beautiful eyes that hold so much life in them.
The life you deserve to live.
“I-It’s not fair. You of all people deserve to live your life.” Joshua says, the anger and sadness heavy in his voice. You let out a small smile, squeezing his hand with as much energy you can muster. “Sometimes life isn’t fair.”
Joshua just scoffs at your positivity and you let out a weak giggle. His eyes soften from the sight of your smile, and he reaches out with his free hand, wiping away your tears with his thumb. You lean into the touch, and Joshua feels his heart stutter in his chest. 
“Can you stay with me?” You ask, looking up into his deerlike eyes. Warmth floods the blonde’s face at how ethereal you are, feeling content when he still sees the sparkle in your eyes. 
“Yeah, always.”
Joshua slips off of his shoes and scoots you over on the hospital bed. He climbs onto it and lays onto his back beside you. You rest your head onto his arm, turning onto your side so that you’re facing him, and close your eyes at the feeling of his fingers intertwining with yours. 
“Thank you.” You mutter sleepily, and Joshua raises an eyebrow. 
“For what?” 
The memories of the last three months rewind in your head like a cassette tape, all the joy, laughter, sadness. All of it. 
“For making my last three months worthwhile.” 
Joshua sucks in a breath at your words, and he clenches his fist at his side. He’s filled with anger, sadness, so many different emotions as he turns his body to face you. He finds that you’re already fast asleep, small puffs of air leaving your lips, a reminder that you’re here. 
You’re alive.
Holding back the tears from rising, Joshua closes his eyes and gently rests his forehead onto yours. He feels your breath hit his lips, and he finds that it’s the only thing that calms him down as he feels a wave of drowsiness hit him.
He soon falls asleep with the thought of you turning to face him on the bridge two weeks ago, with the bright smile on your face that he’s grown to love.
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“Can I please take yn out of the hospital? They’re right at the entrance. It’s not like I’m taking yn to an amusement park.” 
“No, Joshua.” 
“But Dr. Park, please.” Joshua practically begs, following after your doctor as he tries to walk back to his office. The man doesn’t even spare the blonde another glance, already set on his answer. 
It’s been a week since Joshua discovered the truth of your illness, and he’s visited every single day. Even if he had classes or a shift at work, he’d immediately take the bus to the hospital right after to come and see you.
He knows your time is soon from how frail you’ve become, the exhaustion and pain evident on your face no matter how hard you try to hide it behind the smile you show him. 
That’s why he’s desperate for Dr. Park to say yes.
“I’ll even have the nurse accompany us! Please, it won’t take long.” Joshua calls out, and he watches as Dr. Park’s shoulders slump as he lets out a sigh. The older man turns to glance at him, “Joshua…”
“Please, Dr. Park. Yn—” Joshua looks down at his shoes, swallowing the lump in his throat as he tries to muster up the courage to say the next words. “Yn doesn’t have much time left.” 
Dr. Park stares at the blonde, knowing very well that your time is drawing near. He looks to his side, remembering what he told you the day you found out about your tragic fate. 
“Eat whatever you want, do things you’ve always wanted to do. Live your life, yn.” 
Dr. Park lets out a sigh, before turning back towards Joshua, who’s still staring down at the floor. He purses his lips, “Fine. You can take yn, but not for long. I’ll have their nurse accompany you.” 
Joshua immediately lifts up his head, eyes bright as he nods his head frantically. He blurts out multiple thank yous, even bowing at least ten times before he heads back to your hospital room. 
Dr. Park just lets out a sad smile as he watches the blonde disappear past the corner. Shaking his head, he glances down at his clipboard and heads towards his next patient. 
You lay in the hospital bed, struggling to keep your eyes open as you wait for Joshua. Your gaze is glued towards the doorway, wondering when you’ll see those pretty deerlike eyes of his. Your eyelids feel heavy, and you feel sleep beginning to pull you in. 
“Yn!” Your eyes slowly open at the angelic voice, and you find Joshua walking up to your hospital bed with an excited smile on his face. The corners of your lips tug upward, “Joshua, you look excited.”
“I have a surprise for you.” Your eyebrows furrow in suspicion, and he lets out a laugh. A sudden figure at your doorway catches your attention, and Joshua steps to the side so that you can see. You squint when you see your nurse standing there, a wheelchair in front of her as she gives you a smile. 
“What are you planning?” You ask, eyes going back to the blonde. He shrugs his shoulders, reaching out and grasping your cold hand, giving it a squeeze. 
“You’ll see.”
It takes about twenty minutes until you’re finally in the wheelchair, as you’re no longer able to walk on your own. It was hard, since Joshua had to help your nurse by carrying you and placing you into the seat. You kept apologizing for being a bother, but Joshua would always reply, 
“You could never be a bother, yn.”
And now you’re being pushed through the halls. With your nurse holding onto the IV pole while Joshua pushes you. You can’t help but feel a bit of excitement run through your veins as the three of you slowly make your way out of the hospital, no matter how exhausted you are.
“What’s the surprise? Did you buy me a sikhye truck?” 
“You think I’m rich?” Joshua counters, and you smile at his response. It’s when you’re closer to the automatic doors that you begin to feel your heartbeat faster, ecstatic to be able to smell the fresh air. 
“Are you ready?” Joshua asks, leaning over to peek at your face. You let out a shaky breath, before nodding your head and giving him a thumbs up. “Of course.” 
The blonde smiles, and starts pushing you towards the exit again, watching as the automatic doors open for the three of you. The sunlight shines down on you once you’re outside, and you suck in a deep breath of the fresh air, blinking your eyes to get used to the sudden light.
Once your eyes open again, you find Joshua standing before you, arms stretched up towards the sky. A pose that you always did when the two of you were together. You’re about to ask what he’s doing when a sudden flash of pink flies past your face. You turn your head, eyes following after it until it falls onto the ground next to dozens of others.
A cherry blossom petal. 
You slowly look back towards Joshua, seeing the warm smile on his face as he stares at you. Your eyes trail upwards, and you let out a breath when you see the fully bloomed cherry blossom trees above you. The brilliant shades of pink and white are hanging above you, and you feel your heart swell. 
A breeze blows past the trees, and you watch as the petals begin to fall around you and Joshua. The beautiful and delicate petals gently flow with the wind, as if they were pink snowflakes fluttering past you.
Opening up the palm of your hand, you watch as a precious petal falls directly into the middle of it. You let out a wet laugh, tears trailing down your cheeks as you look back up towards Joshua. He’s smiling back at you, eyes filled with tears of his own as the two of you stare at each other. 
“I saw the cherry blossoms with you.” You say softly, and Joshua nods his head, a heartbreaking smile on his face. Biting your bottom lip, you close your fingers around the precious petal in your hand, blinking away the tears that keep flooding your eyes.
“Thank you, Joshua.” You mutter, and the blonde simply lets out a sigh, turning so that he’s facing the cherry blossom tree. You look up towards him, seeing the small smile on his face as he glances back at you. 
“Consider it a gift, yn.”
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You lay on your hospital bed, listening to Joshua tell you about the lecture he attended today. Your heart warms when you hear him let out a giggle when mentioning something his classmate said, and a small smile escapes you. 
It’s been a few hours since you were brought back inside from seeing the cherry blossom trees, and Joshua’s stayed by your side the whole time. He didn’t even leave when you took a nap, just staying in the chair beside your bed doing his homework as he waited for you to wake up. 
You know that your time is almost over as you feel your heartbeat slow while listening to Joshua, finding yourself growing more sleepy. Somehow, rather than being afraid, you feel content. 
You’re happy.
You can see that Joshua knows it too, as he keeps talking to you about anything and everything, when you’d usually be the one to fill the silence. 
“And that’s how—”
“Joshua?” The blonde looks up at the sound of your voice immediately, and his heart falls when he sees the smile on your face. 
It’s different from all the ones before. It’s not bright, teasing, exciting, no. 
It’s accepting.
“Y-Yeah?” Joshua asks, and you extend your hand towards him. He reaches out and grasps it, your hand fitting perfectly within his own. 
“What’s the most beautiful thing about life?” You ask in a soft voice, staring into those deerlike eyes that seem to hold all the stars in the world. 
You want to remember it.
You want to remember him.
Joshua bites the inside of his cheek at your question, looking down at your connected hands as he tries to think of his answer. You watch as his eyebrows furrow in thought, and you grin in amusement at how hard he’s thinking.
The thought of the arcade comes to mind, as the neon purple lights shone on your face as you turned to look at him with a bright smile.
The sunset, when you spun around with your arms in the air and danced along the grass as he took photos of you. 
Going grocery shopping, when you were telling him a story with the softest of smiles on your face. Your eyes twinkled underneath the horrible fluorescent lights, and he wondered how you could possibly look so ethereal even with the bad lighting.
Your strawberry pajamas that you love so much.
Visiting the cat café, where your smile was the brightest and you were practically glowing from all the attention from the cats.
When it rained and you were laughing and spinning around as you let the raindrops fall onto you. Not a care in the world as you smiled brightly and extended your hand out towards him.
Going stargazing, except when he turned his head and looked into your eyes — he realized that you shined brighter than the millions of stars in the sky.
Joshua looks back towards you, seeing you waiting expectantly. His eyes trail over your features, from your beautiful eyes to your pretty lips that always hold a smile. He squeezes your hand softly as he finally answers,
“You.”
You blink at his answer, before a small smile breaks out onto your face. Looking away, you notice the full moon out the window, with the millions of stars surrounding it on this clear night. You let out a breath, feeling like they’re closer tonight. 
“What about you? What’s the most beautiful thing about life?” Joshua asks, and he watches as your head slowly turns back towards him. You give him a grin and squeeze his hand with as much energy as you can muster, finding yourself getting lost in his bright eyes. 
“You. The most beautiful thing about life is you, Joshua.” 
Joshua smiles, but his heart hurts as his eyes pan to your vital signs monitor, seeing that your heart rate is slowing. He looks back at you, and he sucks in a deep breath when only one thought comes to mind. 
There’s still so many things he wants to tell you, so many things he wants to do with you. However, as he stares into your eyes, he realizes there’s only one last thing you need to know.
“Yn?” 
“Yeah, Joshua?” You respond, now struggling to keep your eyes open as you stare at him. 
“I love you.” 
You and Joshua stare at each other in silence for a moment, having finally aired out the truth that the two of you have kept hidden for the last three months. The truth that the both of you kept denying, for fear of the future. A bright smile forms on your face, and Joshua feels his heart stutter within his chest at the sight. 
“I love you too, Joshua.” 
He lets out a breath, swallowing the lump in his throat to try and appear strong for you. As Joshua stares at you, he realizes just how beautiful you are. Even though you’re frail and tired, your beauty is unmatched as he looks into your eyes. 
And so, Joshua smiles back at you, and you feel warmth flood your body at the beauty of it.
You hope to remember his smile even in your next life.
Joshua hears your monitor begin to beep, signalling that your heart rate is dropping. He doesn’t look away from you, holding the eye contact between the two of you as your eyes slowly fall shut. The grip you had on his hand loosens, and he continues to stare at you as your nurse comes in once the sound of the flatline rings throughout the room. 
Joshua stands up from the chair, heart thumping against his chest once your nurse turns off your monitor. 
“Time of death: Tuesday, April 13th. At 8:13 PM.”
Silence fills the room as he leans down and presses a soft kiss to your temple, before pulling away and falling back into the chair. The smile that he showed you is now gone as he bites his bottom lip, trying to hold back the tears that threaten to fall as he stares at you, the smallest of smiles still remaining on your face.
Joshua looks down as a few tears escape, and he slowly rests his forehead onto your guys’ connected hands, sobs finally wracking through his body as he holds onto you. 
The moon and the stars shine down onto the two of you through the hospital window. They illuminate the room as Joshua sobs against your hand, knowing that you were finally able to reach them. 
You were finally able to reach the moon and the stars.
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april 13, 2022
Joshua looks away from the calendar on the wall once he’s handed the bouquet of bright sunflowers. He smiles at the employee, giving them his thanks before he turns around and walks out of the store. 
The sun shines down on him as he walks towards the columbarium, making his black hair appear a light brown underneath the light. 
The sound of the birds chirping rings through his ears, and he smiles softly as he steps in through the entrance. He walks through the hall, before he finally stops, looking up and seeing your bright smile shining back at him.
Joshua lets out a grin at the sight, placing your sunflowers into the mini slot that holds the bouquets. A breath escapes him as he stares at the photos in your display, all of the photos capturing your beautiful smile. His eyes land on the last one, and he bites the inside of his cheek.
It’s the photostrip of the two of you from the day you both went to the dog café. 
Joshua has the same photostrip on the back of his phone case, as a reminder of a beautiful day. 
“Did you miss me?” Joshua asks you, knowing that he won’t receive a response. He smiles softly, looking down at his shoes. 
“It’s been a year without you, and I still think of your bright smile everyday.” Joshua tells you, placing his hands into his pockets as he continues to stare at the floor. “I know you’re getting a kick out of hearing me say that, huh?” 
Joshua stands there before you in silence for a moment, holding back the tears that threaten to flood his eyes. He lets out a shaky breath, before looking back up towards you with a smile and begins to update you on everything that’s happened since he last visited.
From the new job he got at an early learning center as a teacher, to the cat he visits at the shelter that reminds him of you, to his new friend Jeonghan who’s more mischievous than you could imagine, to the fried rice he made in the morning.
He tells you anything and everything until he can no longer think of anything else to say. Joshua lowers his head, wishing that he could hear a response. 
“I miss you.” He mutters, the thought of your smile and contagious laugh coming to mind. There’s a dull ache in his heart that has remained since you passed, and he knows it will be there for a long time. 
But as he lifts up his head to look at you and sees the photo of the both of you laughing, he knows he’ll be okay. You want him to be happy.
Joshua sucks in a deep breath, before reaching up and resting his hand over the glass. 
“Thank you, yn. Thank you for teaching me how to live.” 
Joshua gives you a genuine smile, before taking a step back from your locker. 
“I’ll continue to live happily, so don’t worry about me. I’ll visit you again soon...” Joshua chuckles as he trails off, looking away as warmth floods his face at the thought of the next thing he wants to tell you. He lets out a breath, before smiling at you as he says,
“I love you.” 
And with that, Joshua turns around and walks away with a lighter heart. He steps out of the columbarium and walks down the street, the thought of your smile and the sound of your laugh lingering in his mind. 
He walks with his head down, hands in his pockets as he heads to the bus stop. It’s only when a pink petal floats past him that he pauses and finally looks up from the ground. 
The fully bloomed cherry blossoms are a few feet from him, planted on the grass near the sidewalk, painting the pavement pink. He watches as a breeze blows past him, making hundreds of cherry blossom petals gently fall from the trees. 
Joshua lets out a small smile at the sight, before looking up towards the blue sky. A content sigh escapes him as he watches a pretty white cloud float past him. 
“What a beautiful day.”
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Sneak peek: The Pride of Burrough House, ch 17
Hi, remember me? The jerk who said I was going to keep to a posting schedule and now haven't posted anything in over half a year? Yeah, 2022 wasn't kind to me. But I'm at it again, and here with an excerpt of Chapter 17 which will be posted tomorrow, January 8!
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No one but George could have noticed that Angie was… out of sorts. Not with the pleasant way she made idle conversation with him and Alicia after enquiring after Mr Lovegood’s welfare.
It wasn’t exactly annoyance, and it was hardly anger. It didn’t crackle or hum or boil to an invisible steam. There was just something about her that was like the gooseflesh on his skin.
When they’d deposited Alicia safely at home, Angie moved to sit across from George. In the ambient light from the Spinnets’ house and the last sliver of sunset, George threw her an affectedly innocent look. Angie returned it with a steady one.
“You’ve been avoiding me, Georgie,” she said simply.
“No such thing!” he protested.
“Really? You’ve been a curiously difficult person to find.”
“Have I? Well, now you see where I’ve been hiding. Except that I ain’t hiding. Obviously.”
“For an entire month?” she countered.
“Has it been that long?” He affected a tone of blithe disbelief — entirely insincere for someone who had been used to see Angie at least twice a week for the past two years. 
“Do you think I’m stupid?” she asked, calm in a way that would have discomposed anybody but him.
“I think you’re a lot of things, Ang. Be assured stupid ain’t one of them.”
She withheld any response, waiting for him to continue. By the flickers of light from the lantern outside the carriage she watched him smooth his hair back.
“As you’ve said, I’ve been keeping busy.” The insolent smile was evident in his voice. “Idle hands, you know. Devil’s tools.”
“The entirety of you is the devil’s tool, George.”
“Why, thank you.”
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starlightstevie · 4 years ago
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fics rec / january 2021
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And I’m back with another fic rec! There’s some absolute goodies in this month’s rec - I hope you enjoy them as much as I did! Happy reading x
(* is smut)
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*tale as old as time (series) by @spacelabrathor Beast!Thor x reader: Thor is a beast, prowling the halls of an empty castle alone, living a life of cold, barren solitude. Villagers visit once yearly to bring him gifts he does not seek, piling valueless trinkets at his gate they feel will keep him appeased. They hate Thor and Thor knows, someday, that they will breach his gates and come for his head. He wonders to himself, often, if he will try to stop them when they do. This year, though, the offering has changed. Thor finds not trinkets at his front gate, but a girl, and then everything begins to change.
COWBOY THOR COWBOY THOR COWBOY THOR by @inthorantine While not officially out yet, I am putting this here because everyone needs to read this! Kait has outdone herself and no, I will not stop talking about this for the next 500 years. Here’s some h/c to keep you going until it comes out! One | Two
*if I love you was a promise by @blueberrythor​ Thor x reader: Thor doesn’t consider himself a jealous man–there aren’t many who could compare to him, especially among mortals. He hasn’t had much reason to acquaint himself with the feeling. But watching you with Steve, even he isn’t immune to the sharp sting of jealousy. 
*The Watching by @opheliadawnwalker3​ Thor x reader (some Loki x reader): Reader has been dating Thor for about a year and is celebrating her first Yuletide on Asgard. But she’s unprepared for certain traditions that are expected of her. Or that these traditions also involve Thor and his companions.
*Desperate Measures by @lancsnerd Thor x reader: When an agent is affected by sex pollen and needs assistance, just how helpful will Thor be?
*passionate & burning by @peachyteabuck​ Thor x reader: You’re busy with working from home, but Thor has other plans for the day.
*my pain fits in the palm of your freezing hand by @spacelabrathor Frontier!Thor x reader: Thor makes a home and a life for his family out on the rugged frontier of the Old West. The winters are unforgiving but he keeps them safe and warm. At night, their cabin glows with firelight and the warmth of their company. A small slice of their life together.
*survive the summer and its sequel *hungry for me by @peachyteabuck (Dubcon) Thor x reader: A stranger approaches you on a warm summers day.
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*the fluffer (series) by @punani​ Masterlist 70′s pornstar!Chris Evans x black!reader: It’s the 70′s and the erotic videos industry is experiencing another boom after the risen popularity in the previous decade. The studio’s are hot, Gemini Flanagan is a brand, and you’re a newly hired assistant at Shaggin’ Studios. Chris takes a liking to you, altering your job description so that you get to work more closely with him. Is this all just physical, or is there something more?
*old flannel by @honeysucklesteve​ Chris x reader: an innocent night of lounging in his old flannel leads to not to innocent touches.
*sunday football by @honeysucklesteve Chris x reader: Chris sits you on his lap as he teaches you all about football.
*grocery run by @honeysucklesteve Chris x reader: Innocently wearing Chris’ shirt leads to you finding out just how much he can’t resist you.
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*Captain by @chrissquares Nomad!Steve x reader: You call Steve a name that drives him wild.
*A Birthday Gift by @the-iceni-bitch​ Nomad!Steve x reader: The nomad crew have been holed up with you for months and tensions are high. Nat, being an unrepentant pot stirrer, decides to arrange a pleasant birthday surprise for you.
*let me come home to you (series) by @evansweaters Masterlist Alpha!Steve x Omega!Reader: After years at a dead-end job shouldering everyone’s expectations for you but your own, you’re finally free to be whoever you want, go wherever you want. That is, until a series of unfortunate events strand you in amber’s end, where the sheriff – and notoriously unmated pack alpha – decides to take you in.
*mountainside by @honeysucklesteve Nomad!Steve x reader: Steve needs something to give him a release and you do just that.
*steve needs to relax, good thing you’re here by @honeysucklesteve​
*Such a Shame by @angrythingstarlight​​ Steve x reader: You owe him for saving your life, the price is more than you were willing to pay, such a shame you have to force his hand.
*Captain Jealousy by @nony-bear​​ Steve x reader: You and Steve have been keeping your relationship a secret to avoid public backlash for your age difference. However, after watching Steve flirt with a new agent at one of Tony Stark’s famous parties, your jealousy and frustration come to a head.
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*A Christmas Compromise by @stargazingfangirl18​ Ransom x reader: Even if you wouldn’t admit it to yourself, all you wanted for Christmas was Ransom.
*a man of god by @punani Priest!Ransom x reader: You’ve always been a good girl– attending mass regularly, never been touched by yourself or another, and the way that you dress? a naive innocence radiates off of you. even a man of god can’t help himself, not that he puts any effort into refraining from forbidden fruit.
*Naughty or Nice by @sweeterthanthis​ Ransom x reader: Getting caught nibbling on forbidden holiday treats.
*her cherry lips on his whiskey flavoured kiss by @cloudystevie​ Ransom x reader: The moment he met you, he knew.
Not My Style by @chrissquares​ Ransom x reader: With cold weather comes dry lips..
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*In Good Hands by @ozarkthedog (Dark) Doctor!Andy Barber x reader: Your usual OBGYN Doctor got called away leaving Dr. Barber to administer your pap exam.
*Drowning by @savior-adriana​ Andy x reader: You love working as Jacob’s tutor in German. Not necessarily because you love the language or the teen’s attitude, but because it means you get to spend time alone with a certain Andy Barber once a week.
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*Something Old, Something New by @sweeterthanthis Stepdad!Bucky x reader: To this day you couldn’t work out why he’d chosen your mother. They were total opposites, a mismatched couple if ever you saw one. Yet, you watched it play out – thinking, hoping, that he’d never go through with it.
*Beg for Daddy by @sweeterthanthis Stepdad!Bucky x reader: The thought of your mother passed out next door, the other side of your bedroom wall, did nothing to quell the intense hunger you felt for him.
*it’s the right time to roll to me (series) by @blueberrythor Masterlist Bucky x married!reader: Stuck in an unhappy marriage, you find solace in Bucky.
*about last week by @xbuchananbarnes Bucky x reader: You’ve been avoiding Bucky.
*need by @cloudystevie Bucky x reader: You’re horni for Bonky’s metal hand
Season of the Witch by @msmarvelwrites​ Bucky x reader: Your witchy abilities get you in quite a bit of trouble from time to time… But this time you don’t mind so much.
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*The Bet (series) by @no-droids Part One | Part Two Poe x reader: There are 3 rules to the bet between you and your x-wing commander: No sex, No touching yourself, No orgasms.
*the shakes by @whistlingwillows Poe x reader: “It’s the Shakes, darling. Makes everything excruciating.” Or, you’re experiencing the terrible side effects of being horny and Poe Dameron knows just how to fix it.
Mornings with Modern!Poe by @okay-hotshot Modern!Poe x reader: You and Poe try to have some alone time while you wait for your morning coffee and tea to brew, only to have your child interrupt you and run away yowling.
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frigid by @whirlybirbs Mando x reader: Din doesn’t like the ocean. You’re soaked.
Getting vulnerable with Mando by @cptnbvcks
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*men of the bau: kinks by @luciilferss​
open road by @gayprentiss Emily Prentiss x JJ Jareau: After retiring from the BAU, JJ and Emily decide to forgo an apartment in favor of an old sprinter van.
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*Teacher’s Pet by @imagining-in-the-margins Professor!Reid x reader: There are only a few reasons to sign up for Criminal Psychology. You could be like the reasonable students and join the class because you are genuinely interested in the material, or you could be like the rest of us. That is, you could enroll in the class because the professor is a fine piece of ass fresh out of prison.
*Spencer taking you in the library by @spenciebabie
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*of terrible coffee and late-night rides by @venusbarnes Hotch x reader: A collection of moments throughout your relationship with one Aaron Hotchner.
*fragrance by @whistlingwillows College!Hotch x reader: Plato said, “The god of love lives in a state of need. It is a need. It is an urge. It is a homeostatic imbalance. Like hunger and thirst, it's almost impossible to stamp out.”
*bitter end (series) by @whistlingwillows Masterlist Hotch x reader: Author Sarah Dessen wrote, “Life is an awful, ugly place to not have a best friend.”
*Beard Kink by @reidsexualwriting Hotch x reader: Hotch with a beard has you feeling all types of ways.
*Lunch break by @arganfics Hotch x reader: You help Hotch relax after a tough day.
*Early Mornings by @mrvltwimagines Hotch x reader: The very rare mornings where you wake up and your boyfriend was still home and in bed were definitely cherished by you.
*Do you like that? Being in control? by @writefasttalkevenfaster Hotch x reader: You decide that Hotch needs a break from being in charge.
*Waking up Hotch with a blowjob by @writefasttalkevenfaster
Taking a day off with Hotch by @ssahoodrathotchner
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*eat until your blood sings by @peachyteabuck Tony Stark x Steve Rogers x Natasha Romanoff x Carol Danvers x Clint Barton x Thor Odinson x reader: Gangbang with the Avengers.
*Anakin Skywalker has a big dick by @anakinswhore
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yes-ihavealwaysbeengreen · 4 years ago
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College AU Week 1 Day 1 - Santiago ‘Pope’ Garcia
A/N: Day One of the January AU Writing Challenge is with my man Santiago. This is my first AU story ever and I hope I did okay. Thank you to everyone who reblogs, comments, likes and supports my writing! 
Pairing: Santiago ‘Pope’ Garcia x Reader 
Warning: 18 + for language 
My Masterlist 
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You keep reserving the good study room in the corner of the library with the windows. 
This was going to be your year. The long-awaited final semester of college had finally arrived. While your friends had spent their weekends partying, drinking, and procrastinating, you’d been spending extra hours on your assignments, rising the ranks. The only thing that could make this even better was the coveted study room 3C. It was the stuff of legends. 
The room sat upon the third floor of the Benjamin Franklin Library overlooking a gorgeous landscape with large base to ceiling windows always pristine and streak-free. The large mahogany table contains two enormous padded chairs, the fabric soft and lacking the usual itch associated with communal areas. Only one student was allowed to book the study carol each semester, and GPA was a factor. It was your time. 
You stand shivering in anticipation outside the library doors for them to open. Mrs. Henry, a thin alabaster woman with wiry golden frames perched on the edge of her hooked nose, unlocks the door. You rush inside the gates. Sprinting to the front desk and eagerly waiting for her to sit herself down in front of the computer and give you an unamused look. “Can I help you?” she drones in a dull tone. 
“Yes, I am here to reserve study room 3C,” you smile at her, and she clicks a few keys on her keyboard, sighing loudly before turning back to you, “that room has already been reserved for the semester.” 
Your smile drops, and you feel your lungs collapse, “But...but it’s the first day of the semester, how could someone already have claimed it?!” you don’t mean to shout, but you’re pissed. She puts a finger to her lips and hisses at you, and you grimace. 
“Priority to that room is always given to veterans first, this semester we have a former Delta Force service member studying here on G.I Bill, he got first dibs, and it would appear he has taken it,” she closes out of the computer and sneers at you. “Maybe he will be willing to share. It says that he will be using it today at 1:00 pm. Until then, I suggest you find someone else to annoy with your frivolity.” 
“Fine then, I will be back.” You snap back at her and storm out of the library, running right into a guy coming into the library knocking his hat off his head. He apologizes, and you give a half reply back, bending down to pick up his hat and hand it back to him. When you look up, you freeze, it’s an older guy than your used to seeing around campus from the way his curly locks have begun to fade to grey, but his brown eyes are bright and full of life. 
“Sorry, I wasn’t paying attention to where I was going,” you stutter out slack-jawed as you both straighten up and you see the way his dark tan arms bulge in his t-shirt. 
“That’s okay; you seemed pretty upset. I don’t mean to pry but, are you ok?” His voice is like honey, and you watch the way his lips form the words, his tongue flicking out to wet his lips. “You still with me?” the playful tone has you snapping your head up and meeting his amused gaze. 
“I...I...Uhm, I’m sorry, what did you say?” you are so embarrassed, but he doesn’t mention it. 
“I asked, are you okay? You seemed pretty upset.” 
“Oh,” you had almost completely forgotten your encounter with the monster librarian, and it all comes swirling back, “no, to be honest.” 
“Is there anything I can do?” 
“No, this is something I have to handle on my own. But, I will say running into you has made the whole experience somewhat more pleasant.” He smiles at you then, and you’re temporarily blinded by the white teeth and the way he almost seems to beam.
“Well then, I guess I’ve done my good deed for the day; my name’s Santiago,” he reaches out a hand, and when you connect, you feel a jolt of electricity spark up your arm. He must feel it, too, because he grasps your hand a little tighter before letting go. You tell him your name, and he repeats it back, your almost melting at the way your name rolls off his tongue. “I hope this isn’t too forward of me but, would you maybe wanna get a coffee? The coffee bar just opened, and I would like to keep talking to you.” 
You grin and tuck your backpack over your shoulder, nodding. He places his hand over the small of your back, and you feel that same tingle as he leads you inside. It’s the typical college coffee shop filled with large overstuffed chairs, a chess set over in the corner, and little tables for grabbing a quick bite. You both go to the counter, and you try to protest as he reaches for his wallet to pay, but he won’t have any of it. He orders himself an Americano, and you stick to a vanilla latte before sliding onto the worn leather loveseat in the corner. 
His denim-clad leg gently brushing against yours sends a tremble over you. He watches you, smiling over the rim of the paper cup, and you smile back. You don’t know how long you both sit there talking about everything. You learn all about his life in the army; his friends turned brothers, his goddaughter, his best friend, and his decision to return to school to study art.
“My buddies never knew, but it’s always been a passion of mine. I own my own security business, and it pays the bills, but I wanted to do something I loved. Probably sounds stupid right?” 
“No,” you grasp his hand, holding tight, “I don’t think it’s stupid at all.” He smiles at you and continues to hold your hand rubbing circles onto the back. His phone chimes, and he lets out a soft curse. 
“Shit, I promised Frankie I would watch his daughter. I forgot,” he looks up into your eyes, “I would like to see you again. Do you think I could get your number?” You hold a hand out, grinning, and he places his phone in your hands. You type out your name and put a coffee emoji next to it, and hand it back. 
“Text me, okay?” he looks at you once before shaking his head and surging forward, placing a kiss on your cheek before nodding. He grabs his bag and rushes towards the door. You bite your lip to suppress the groan at the way his ass hugs in those jeans. He stops about halfway to the door, turning to catch you looking, and winks. 
“Are you checking me out?” he teases, and you nod widely, causing him to laugh and quickly leave. A few minutes later, you get a text from an unknown number with only a peach emoji, causing you to burst out laughing. You check the time and grin. It’s nearing one, and you can go check out the thief who stole your coveted spot. You put the cups in the bin and straighten up the pillows before making your way to the third floor. 
The sunlight streams through the clean glass and casts an eternal light into the hallway. No one is there yet, so you take the seat across from the room and wait. And wait. And wait. But no one ever comes, and you feel your frustration returning. You’re just about to go downstairs and give the librarian a piece of your mind when Santiago texts you asking you out for dinner. You grin, replying with a yes, and temporarily letting go of your plight. 
That’s how it continues for the next month. Between dates with Santiago, texting him, your course work, and stalking out the continuously empty study room. It’s been a busy month. Your phone chimes from your bag, and you smile, making your way up to the third floor for the last time. You’d decided if someone wasn’t using it today, you would be making a formal complaint with the school about them wasting the space on someone that’s never there. 
Santi: I miss you. I’m almost done studying. Are you still coming over tonight? ;) 
Things had been going very well with Santi, and at this point, you spent more time at his apartment than your own. The sex was mind-blowing, his cooking sublime, and he made you laugh like no one ever had. It might have been a short amount of time, but you were sure you were falling in love with him. 
You: I miss you too. However, I did just see you this morning. I will be there tonight. 
Santi: I can’t wait. ;) 
You grin and tuck your phone away. Turning onto the third floor and pausing as a shadow moves inside the room. Yes! You had finally caught the bastard. But you feel the world slow as you look inside the glass and see your boyfriend smiling into his phone and turning it over, returning to his book. You reach out a trembling hand and knock on the glass. 
He looks up, confused for a minute before his beaming smile is back, and he’s getting up to open the door. “Baby? What are you doing here?” 
“You...it’s been you this whole time,” his smile droops as he looks confused, “you stole my study room!” He quiets you and pulls you into the room, shutting the door. 
“What’s going on?” 
“What’s going on?! This was supposed to be my study room this semester! On that day we met, I was angry because someone had reserved it; I’d waited four years for this room, and they had given it away to someone else. And it’s been you this whole time!” You know your overreacting, but the shock is flowing through your veins like ice. 
“This is the room you’ve been trying to reserve this whole time? Baby, if I’d known, I would have given it up in a heartbeat.” He moves to collect his things, and you put a hand over his cooling down. 
“No, just no stop,” you take a shuddering breath. 
“What if we share it?” you look at him, tears pooling in your eyes, “I don’t use it nearly as much as I should, and when we both need it, we can be together.” You let the tears fall, and he smiles, pulling you into his chest, inhaling his spicy cologne. 
“You would do that for me?” you murmur through the tears. He mumbles something against your neck, and you pull away with a questioning gaze. “What?” 
He looks nervous now and holds you close, looking into your eyes, “I said, I love you. I would do anything for you, baby.” 
You lean up and kiss him gently, letting the tears soak your cheeks, before resting your forehead on his own. “I...I love you too.” He smiles down at you. 
“Then I think we're both ready for the next big step in our relationship.” you hold in your breath as he reaches for a key on the table and holds it between you. “Will you...will you share this study room with me?” 
You burst out with a watery chuckle, and he laughs, smiling. You take the key from his outstretched hand. “I think I’m ready for that.” He holds onto the other end and pulls you in for a kiss. The study room quickly becoming good for more than just studying. 
Taglist: @oldstuffnewstuff​ @yespolkadotkitty​ @heythere-mel​ @justanotherblonde23​ @artsymaddie​ @a-seeker-of-imagination​ @aellynera​ @lucifer-​ @houseofthirst​ @phoenixhalliwell​ @josepedropascal​ @letoartreiides​ @itspdameronthings​
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stilloutofmyvulcanmind · 4 years ago
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Snowed In
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Pairing: Harry Wells x Gender Neutral!Reader
Word count: 2.5k
Warnings: Arguments
Summary: Getting trapped by a snowstorm in a different city wasn’t the way you’d planned to spend New Years. Spending it with your boss, Harrison Wells hadn’t been on the cards either. But when the power goes out, the two of you find yourself coming together
A/N: Just a small something to wish people a Happy New Year
“Are you sure there’s no way…? Yes, I understand but it’s vital we get back as soon as possible....okay...yes...please...thank you. Bye.” Hanging up the phone, you sighed and looked out the window at the sheets of snow coming down to blanket the city around you in white. You should’ve been heading back to Central City tomorrow, ending a week of meetings a day early to avoid a snowstorm, but it had come in faster than expected and now you were grounded until further notice. It could’ve been worse. You’d rented a house for the week, and the owner had already been in touch to confirm you could stay at no extra cost. So you had a roof over your head, a full cupboard and warmth. Not the most awful way to get trapped in a strange city. However, you knew one person who wouldn’t be happy at this new turn of events.
Turning away from the large plane of glass, you looked over at Harrison sitting at the dining table, scowling at his laptop. Your boss hadn’t wanted to come, but since he was the main focus of the meetings, hadn’t been able to get out of it either. And after days of complaining about how these unnecessary distractions were hindering his development of the Particle Accelerator, he was surely not going to take the news well.  
“Dr. Wells?” You called, approaching him and waiting for him to look up from his work. “I’ve spoken to every airline and transport hub in the City. I’m afraid we’re stuck here until the storm has cleared.”
The scowl stayed firmly in place as he tossed his glasses onto the table. “How long will that be?”
“Three days. At best.”
“Great. I promised Jesse I’d be home for lunch on New Years Day.”
“I’m sorry, sir. I’ve set it up so I’ll be contacted the moment we can leave.”
Harrison nodded, his focus already back on his laptop. “Good. Now excuse me, I have to go let down my daughter.”
You felt bad about it, yet as awkward as you’d expected to be cooped up in a house with your boss to be, the first day wasn’t all that bad at all. In fact, after speaking to Jesse, and apparently being reassured that his delay was okay, Harrison seemed to be in a rather pleasant mood. The two of you shared dinner together, and it was...nice. Harrison was good company when he wanted to be, it seemed.
Then, on the second night, disaster struck. The power went out. Not just in your house, but in half the city. And with it went your heating. 
Shivering in the kitchen, you hung up the phone. “There’s nothing to be done. We just have to wait for everything to come back on.”
“So we’re just meant to sit here and freeze?!”
“We do have the fire…”
“Great.” Harrison ran his hands through his hair as he paced, “This is your fault.”
“My fault? How exactly?”
“If you’d rescheduled, we wouldn’t be here!”
You scoffed in disbelief. “You knew these things had to be dealt with by January for months. If you hadn’t made me reschedule three times already, we could’ve come over the summer and avoided this whole mess!”
“So it’s my fault?”
“Your stubbornness didn’t exactly help!”
It was Harrison’s turn to scoff now. “My stubbornness? I’m sorry if working on a ground breaking, world changing project comes before a few idiotic meetings that ultimately affect nothing!”
“You still have a business to lead!”
“The Particle Accelerator is more important!”
“I know! I know how important it is. I know you need to be left alone.”
“Then why don’t you do your job and make sure I am?”
That stung. “I do.”
“Not well enough! If you did I wouldn’t be stuck here, with no heat, no light, no internet, unable to work on anything for God knows how long!”
“Not well enough?” You laughed, but there was no humor in it. “Do you have any idea how much bullshit I’ve kept off your plate these past couple years? How much banal drivel you have no idea about because I intercepted it before it even got a chance to enter your peripheral? All the while dealing with whatever else you put on me on top! I can’t even begin to count the amount of hours I’ve worked longer than I should have to make sure everything is running smoothly and you don’t get interrupted from your ‘important’ work!”
“Well if it’s so much work you’re free to hand in your notice whenever you like!”
“Yeah? Maybe I will! I’ll have a job with someone who appreciates me in days!”
“FINE!”
“FINE!” Turning on your heel you stormed off back into your room, slamming the door behind you loudly.
Slumping on the bed, your tears felt hot against your skin in the cold, dark room. You cried quietly, muffling your sobs in the pillow lest he hear you. You didn’t need him calling you out on that too.
As stubborn headed and difficult to work for as Harrison was, you’d always loved your job. You loved the challenge of juggling everything, and knowing you were helping to keep his schedule as clear as possible to leave him free to work on his projects made you feel like you helped with them in some small way, though he’d probably laugh at you for it. But on top of it all, you’d always liked Harrison. Yeah, he was more like a grumpy, feral alleycat than the CEO of a billion dollar company, but he’d always been decent to you. Aside from his daughter, you were probably the person who spent most time with him, and you’d always gotten along well. Until now. He’d never been that angry before. Unhappy? Yeah. Annoyed? That was practically his permanent state. But never angry. Not at you. And that hurt. 
You cried harder into the pillow, mad at him for acting the way he did and mad at yourself for fucking up as badly as you had. Maybe if you’d just tried harder to reschedule again…
A sharp rap at the door pulled you from your thoughts. “Y/L/N. I’ve got the fire lit. It’s warm out here now.”
You didn’t want to face him, but staying in your room while it was this cold wouldn’t do any good either. You didn’t need hypothermia on top of everything else. 
 Sniffing and wiping away the tears as best you could, you wrapped a blanket around your shoulders, and emerged from the bedroom. 
He'd done well. He'd set up enough candles that you could see decently. There was a fire blazing in the living room, and he'd put out blankets on the sofa and floor. In different circumstances it'd be cozy. Romantic, even. 
Harrison was standing near the sofa watching you. If he could make out the tear stains in the dim light, he had enough courtesy left not to say anything. Standing awkwardly a few feet away from him, you kept the blanket pulled close tightly. "Sit down. Get warm," Harrison said, looking just as awkward as he stepped aside. 
"Thank you, sir." You kept your voice even while you moved to settle on the sofa. Harrison didn't join like you'd expected, instead disappearing off someplace else. 
You stayed where you were, feet tucked up under you and let the warmth of the fire slowly soak into you. Even the blanket and the flames you still found yourself a little chilly, but compared to how cold it’d been in your room, you felt a world better. You could hear Harrison move about the rest of the house and occasionally caught him muttering under his breath, but what he was actually doing, you had no idea. Until he reappeared again, arms full. He set everything down on the floor with a slight puff, and started organizing them. When he straightened, he was holding a lump of dark material.
“Here. Put this on,” he said, waving it in your direction.
Wiggling out from your blanket cocoon, you reached for the item. The moment you grasped it, you recognised the material. “This is your coat.”
“Excellent observation. Now put it on, you need the extra layer.”
“What about you?” You asked, pulling on the coat. It was heavy on your shoulders but the extra warmth was felt immediately.
“I’m fine. I’m more used to the cold than you are.”
“Well, thank you. I appreciate it.”
All you got in return was a nod then Harrison was back sorting through the rest of the items he’d brought. “I’m heating up soup. Tomato or chicken?”
“Tomato.”
Harrison knelt on the blankets covering the floor as he opened the can and poured the contents into a pot. It felt weird, sitting on the sofa while he was working, so you wrapped your blanket back around yourself, and sat on the floor too, back leaning against the sofa. You watched as he pulled a few other things together, using them to create a hook and support so he could hang the pot safely over the fire. 
“Where’d you learn to do that?” 
Harrison glanced over his shoulder before securing the pot above the flames. “It’s just some basic engineering. An idiot could do it.” He was silent for several seconds so you thought that was the end of it. “It’s easier in a home with supplies.”
“You’ve done it before?”
“In the military. Part of basic training.”
“You didn’t just do it in basic training.”
“No.”
You’d known he’d been in the army during the War, but he’d never brought it up before so you’d never asked. Even now, you didn’t want to pry, but you were curious. “Is that why you’re more used to the cold, too?” 
“Hmm.”
“Did you spend a lot of time outside?”
“Not as much as some. They kept me in the labs. Mostly.” Harrison stared into the flames for a few seconds, then cleared his throat. “The soup will take a few minutes more.”
“Okay.” Neither of you spoke further, instead just listening to the flames crackle and the soup start to bubble in the pot. Despite the earlier argument, the silence was surprisingly comfortable. As quickly as the moment had passed, you’d never known Harrison to be so open, and that he’d been willing to do so with you, felt nice.
Eventually, Harrison scooped out two bowlfuls of soup and scooted back until he was next to you. “Careful, it’s hot,” he said, passing you one.
“Thank you.” Blowing on a spoonful, you hummed at the warmth of it. Between the food, the layers, the fire, and now Harrison next you, the last of the cold seeped away, and for the first time in hours, you actually felt toasty.
When you were both done and the bowls had been pushed to the side, the two of you stayed close together, enjoying the new found warmth. Harrison occasionally moved to stoke the fire, but other than that, neither of you did anything. You were cozy enough, that it didn’t take long before you started to feel yourself drift off.
“Stay,” Harrison said, just before you fell asleep.
“Hmm?”
“Don’t quit. Stay.”
“I thought you wanted someone who’s good at their job?”
“I do, and that person is you. What you asked earlier, about if I knew how much you do for me? The answer is I do. I just never realised it. My life has been quieter since I hired you, a lot quieter, and I took that for granted. You’ve always performed admirably, and I couldn’t ask for anyone better.”
“I appreciate you saying that,” you whispered, looking over at him.
“Does that mean you’ll stay?”
“Yeah, I’ll stay. I like working for you.”
Harrison chuckled, “I’m not sure many would say that.”
“Maybe I’m just odd.”
“Or special.”
Cheeks heating, you looked away. “I wouldn’t go that far, I’m not the genius who’s going to change the world.”
“I wouldn’t be able to do it without you. You’ve helped more than you know.”
You smiled, “Thank you, Doctor Wells.”
“I think being trapped in front of a fire with no power calls for first names.”
“Alright. Harrison.”
Harrison returned your smile then checked his watch. “It’s nearly midnight. Join me for a glass of wine?”
“I’d like that.”
Harrison got up and disappeared into the kitchen. When he returned he was carrying two glasses and a bottle of white wine. He popped it, and poured out two glasses.
“Not the way you’d planned to spend New Year’s Eve, I bet,” you said, taking one of the glasses.
“No, it’s not. This is better.”
“I agree.”
The wine was delicious, and the two of you sipped it together until Harrison’s watch beeped once again. 
“Happy New Year.”
“Happy New Year.”
Clinking your glasses, you realized Harrison’s eyes stayed on you while you finished the drink. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” The answer came too quickly.
“No secrets in front of the fire.”
Harrison chuckled, looking down into his own glass as he rubbed the back of his neck. “I was just...thinking.”
“About?”
“I can’t. It’d be....inappropriate of me.”
“Tell me, Harrison,” you said quietly, butterflies forming in your stomach.
He hesitated a moment, then met your gaze, “I was thinking that...I’d like to kiss you.”
Gasping softly, you lost every word you knew. Harrison seemed to think that was bad. “Like I said, it’s inappropriate. Forget I said anything.”
“No.”
“What?”
“I won’t forget,” you whispered, setting your glass down to scooch closer. “I’d like it if you did.”
“You don’t have to say that because I’m your boss.”
“I’m not.” Hesitantly, you reached up to touch his face, smiling when he didn’t pull away. “I want to kiss you too.”
Harrison studied your face for a few seconds, then his lips were on yours, pressing softly but insistently. You kissed back, moaning softly as you wound your arms around his shoulders, lips parting for him. 
You kissed for what seemed like an age, yet even when Harrison pulled back slightly breathless, it felt like it was over too soon. “Y/N, that was…”
“Amazing.”
“I agree.” He brought a hand to your face, calloused fingers brushing over your skin oh so gently, as if he were afraid he’d hurt you. “I haven’t done this since...since my wife…”
“I understand.” You copied his action, brushing fingers over his cheek just as slowly. “We can go slow.”
“Thank you.”
“Of course.”
Harrison kissed you again, arms wrapping around your body as he slowly lowered you to the ground. With him hovering over you, it was the warmest you’d ever felt. 
When you awoke the next morning, the fire in front of you had died out, but there was still a solid heat pressed to your back, and an arm wrapped securely around your waist. Smiling to yourself, you turned into the embrace to meet a pair of clear blue eyes. 
“Good morning,” you said softly.
“Good morning.” Harrison’s eyes flicked down to your lips then back to your eyes. “Do you have any regrets?”
“Not a one. You?”
“No.” Harrison pressed his lips to yours. You moaned into it. 
A perfect start to the year.
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dottiechan · 4 years ago
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Tempest (Pt. 5)
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Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5
Read on AO3
Pairing: Ava Du Mortain x f!Detective
Wordcount: 4048
Warnings: mourning, mentions of death and torture, smoking
Summary: The private detective must work through the sudden and unexpected disappearance of Ava - quite literally, as she embarks on solving her greatest mystery yet. But she is not the only one who's been busy...
A/N: This chapter is a rather long one as there's much to unpack at this point of the story, and there is much to explain. Sorry for the long wait, and thanks for being so patient and supportive of me!
The Private Detective’s Office, London, 1898
5 months after Ava’s disappearance
The key turns in the lock with ease. The door creaks as it gives way to the dark office. The lights flicker in the corridor outside, and the entrance gapes like a mouth ready to swallow her whole.
She steps inside, unaware of her fingers skittering across the glass pane that has the name of her detective agency painted on it. Some have great bloodlines to look back on, and nobles and kings to proudly call their ancestors. Her legacy is this stuffy little office, her sigil is a hand painted business logo. But her ancestor - her father - was a warrior too, noble of heart, even if not of blood.
She hangs her coat and hat, and proceeds to smooth down her hair before locking the door and switching on the lights. The old pieces of furniture that would have been regarded fashionable 20 years ago are dimly illuminated, and the sight of them makes her heart ache. They belonged to her late father, and in a way he lives on through them. The dent in the cushion of his chair where he always used to sit, the scuff marks on his desk he carelessly carved into the polished surface with books and folders, the medical and law tomes he hoarded lining the bookshelves that hug the dark green walls... As a child, she was afraid of coming here in the evenings - something they often did after her mother passed away and her father tried his best to raise her alone. The heavy nailhead leather armchairs looked like hunched monsters in the dark, the looming mahogany desk with its long curving legs resembled a giant spider, and the serious wallpaper enveloped this macabre scene like some sinister forest. “The real monsters are in here, my darling,” her father would ruffle her hair affectionately, pointing at the files he came to pick up.
It is late, but the office no longer feels scary. Her rational mind knows she should have gone home to her empty bed and her unread books and the cold supper awaiting her. And yet she’s here because hardly anything matters anymore. Because no place ever really feels like home ever since her father left. Well, her small house felt like home for a while when she was still here. But she left as well, and with her she took the last tattered shreds of joy the detective had somehow managed to cling to. She is submerged in saturnine reticence now, and ironically it helps her stay focused, even though it makes her more and more like the person she tried to thaw out. More and more like Ava.
One should only embrace the iciness of a statue if they’re willing to risk turning into marble themselves.
The Commissioner would be lucky to have a detective such as myself, she thinks bitterly as she glances down at the neatly kept files piled on her desk. Most are petty cases, even she has to admit - cheating husbands, unanswered invitations and letters, and the likes. But she takes all the work she can, and she prides herself on her ability to solve them with the proficiency of a man. Ava used to praise her for that. Now she whispers praises to herself even if the words turn sour in her mouth, because she will not let anyone ruin her. She will not. (Even though Ava has, because the world feels different without her in it.)
Her sudden disappearance left her on the precipice of panic at first. Ava, along with her partner Nate, simply vanished into thin air as if they never even existed at all, as if they were a pleasant reverie she used to lull herself to sleep at night. No trace, no item that belonged to them was left behind. If not for the spare key to her house being gone - the one she gave to Ava - she wouldn’t even be able to tell the difference between reality and her mad suspicions. But oh, she was here. She was. Missing her is a malady burrowed in her heart, but it is also the testament of her existence.
She opens the file on top, and hums in bitter satisfaction. Right. The aching of her heart isn’t the only testament anymore. It took her months, but she’s finally one step closer to the solution, planting her foot firmly and holding her crumbling sanity together with a determination she didn’t know she had. Ava was probably never meant to be in the background of a photograph taken during the opening night of the National Gallery of British Art.
But she was. And it really only takes one mistake.
The private detective picks up the photograph gingerly, giving herself one second to lose herself in the whirlwind of emotions Ava’s angular silhouette awakens in her.
One step closer.
She leans back in her chair, her gaze gliding over the photograph and landing on her personal little project. The blackboard is filled with dates, locations and places with a map pinned to the middle of it - by now, it is practically a blueprint of Ava’s and Nate’s every activity over the past two years. The deeper she digs, the more unknowns she unearths about the people she once thought she knew.
But there’s still time to get to know them - first impressions are overrated anyway.
Train station, Wayhaven, 1899
7 months after Ava’s disappearance
January quickly set to work and changed the countryside. It swooped down from the heavens and gently buried the forests and the hills under a heavy blanket of snow, concealing the detective’s childhood home from her as she exits the train, the handle of her heavy bag already digging into her gloved fingers. The shapes are still visible though underneath all the snow and ice - she sees the old station with the crumbling roof, the road leading into town, the bell tower of the small church peeking out just above the treeline. She recognises them all, though she sorely wishes she didn’t.
Because with the recognition comes the inevitable sting of her memories. Faces emerge in her conscious she hasn’t seen in years. The kindness of her mother’s eyes and the curve of his father’s lips, both lost forever now, never to be seen again, cutting deeper than a knife ever could.
An old woman is prating about her insufferable nephew, a business man is constantly checking his pocket watch with a disdainful look from across the station, three young women gossip, a man is rubbing his hands together in an effort to stimulate his circulation in the cold weather. The detective tunes out the comfortable commotion of the small town station, imagining she is still in London and not here. Anywhere but here. People brush past her, the train whistles and whirs to motion, and before she knows it, she is alone, paralysed in one spot, snowflakes catching softly on her fetching ensemble of a royal blue travelling dress and matching hat.
She takes a shaky breath, almost already on the verge of tears.
“Are you alright, Miss?”
No.
“Of course,” she turns with a slight smile. “Just admiring the view. I used to live here.”
“Ah, then the gossip about you was true,” the man nods, his eyes glinting intelligently under his bushy brows. There’s an apologetic smile sitting on his lips, and a twinge of regret spoiling the beauty of his otherwise handsome square jaw and bold features. “I apologise, I couldn’t help but overhear some women on the train talking about your father. About you.”
“I didn’t know our name carried such weight,” the detective admits cautiously, one hand reaching up to fix her hat self-consciously. The man seems to notice the way her fingers linger over the hat pin, and he almost cracks a grin. It would be a highly inappropriate moment to joke, and besides, he’d rather befriend this interesting person than anger her to a point where he’d end up being skewered by the hat pin in question. After all, her friendship and assistance is why he’s here.
“Your father served in India with Sir Edward Bardford, the current Police Commissioner of the Metropolitan Police,” he adds gently. “You were betrothed to Montagu Edward Bradford.”
“How do you know about that?” the woman asks, her eyes widened by shock as she takes a step closer to him.
“Who didn’t Montagu tell?”
The strained grin the stranger allows himself seems to put her momentarily at ease. Montagu did tell everyone, God rest his soul. In a way, she could never really begrudge him for the betrothal - it was their fathers’ scheming, even if Montagu really didn’t seem to mind. She always wanted a way out, but she never wished for his death. He was in India when it had happened, and she was in London. In a way, even 9 years after, it feels surreal. She never saw the body. For years afterwards, she sincerely thought he would turn up one day unexpectedly as if nothing had happened.
He never did.
“How awfully rude of me to not even introduce myself!” he exclaims suddenly, sheepishly sticking out his hand. “Dr Van Helsing. Abraham Van Helsing.”
“I believe Mont had spoken about you,” she nods as she shakes his hand, deliberately squeezing his fingers with more force than a mere handshake would warrant. Yet another trick she learned from Ava.
“I hope so. We were... we were quite close. I know it’s been a while since he...” Van Helsing pauses as he withdraws his hand and waves it in the air before drawing it up to his ginger curls. “Please accept deepest my condolences.”
“Thank you, Dr Van Helsing.”
Her tone signals the end of the conversation, and she nods her head stiffly before turning. She knew coming back here would unearth the loss of her parents, but she is not ready to speak of Montagu yet. She bared her soul once regarding the matter, and only to one person, but she will not repeat the experience again. As liberating as it had been to tell Ava everything, she wishes to leave this heartache and guilt where it belongs - in the past.
“Please wait. We got off on the wrong foot! I didn’t come here to ask you personal questions - in fact, it is a disappearance that I was hoping to discuss with you.”
“You are a physician, not an inspector, correct?” she asks over her shoulder, not bothering to slow down her steps as she strides towards an unclaimed hansom.
“Yes, but-”
“Are you here to hire me?”
“No-”
“Then we have nothing to talk about, Dr Van Helsing. Good day.”
The driver, smelling a wealthy client who’s just arrived from London, clambers down from his seat quickly to open the door for her to get in. Just before she could disappear inside, the physician speaks again.
“I’m trying to find Miss Ava Du Mortain and Mr Nathaniel Sewell. I was hoping we could help each other out, but more importantly, I was hoping to warn you.”
“Warn me?” the detective pauses, looking back at Van Helsing with genuine shock on her prepossessing features.
“They’re not who you think they are - what you think they are.”
There’s a stretch of silence between them as her eyes assess the tall, lanky man as he stands just before the hansom, hands stuffed into his coat pockets, his breath fogging in the chill air as he looks back at her expectantly. The nerve on this man alone is making the private detective want to leave him high and dry in the snow, but her insides twist and her pulse quickens at the mention of Ava’s name. She’s all but given up hope - for months now, she could find nothing regarding the woman and her partner, or the Agency they claimed to work for. She knows virtually nothing about this man, but her need to find Ava outweighs her better judgement.
“Are you hungry, Dr Van Helsing?” she asks, scooting further down the seat to make room for the man.
“Is eating and working on disappearance cases simultaneously a habit of yours, Miss?” the physician asks as he climbs in next to her.
“And here I was trying to be nice. I suppose I will not offer to pay for your lunch then.”
“I take it all back! I am positively famished.”
Meanwhile, across the train station
Lucille Licht twirls her cane, lips pressed into a disdainful frown. Cities at least have crowds upon crowds of people to distract her, but small towns such as Wayhaven hold no entertainment value whatsoever. She isn’t here on pleasant business anyway, she thinks to herself as she sighs, pulling her fur coat tighter around the expensive suit she’s wearing. No, she is here on ghastly business indeed, even by demon standards. But the prophecy was clear - though irritatingly vague too, no doubt to account for the rather large margin of error witches have these days in their prophecies. They’re more lawyers than soothsayers by now, their profession diluted by those who hunger for nothing but profit and security, and who are willing to sacrifice quality for those two aforementioned gains. Lucille finds sordid business such as this distasteful, even in her line of work. Falling from grace is one thing, but living in the Agency’s ever growing shadow is no excuse not to have honour among thieves. Or rogues. Or both, when it comes to the social circles she frequents.
A small voice in the back of her head whispers sadly, poisoning the faux assuredness she’s lulled herself into on the train. She’s just like I was, in a strange way. Before it all happened. And now I’m about to do the same horrible things to her that were done to me.
But the private detective is the one she’s been waiting for. She has to be. It all fits - the dead father, the career, the place where she was born. Lucille can’t smell anything strange about her blood yet, but she is sure she can bring about the power that was promised to reside in her veins. She has her ways, and her old magic, and her knife. And most importantly, her determination.
It was centuries ago, when she was stripped and bound and the curse was carved into her flesh. Strange, how vividly one can remember a single terrible moment, even centuries later. Even though the ancient magic rendered her undead, she can still feel the searing pain all over her body, red lines raging like fire in the form of symbols and Echolian text. It made her immortal, but it also bound her to her creator. He is the reason why she’s on the hunt. Why she is desperate to gain power beyond what she could achieve alone. Even as a human, as a meagre farmer’s child, she was roaming the fields of her father as she pleased. She was free. It was so long ago that she can’t even remember the name her parents gave her, but her freedom she remembers.
And nobody enslaves Lucille Licht and gets away with it.
Her slow burn vendetta must be coming to an end soon. There’s only so much of the supernatural underworld she can bring under her control - what she has will have to suffice. She already runs a widespread rogue organisation, with its key leadership positions held by her loyal Daughters, as she eloquently calls the women she’s bound to her service over the centuries the same way she was bound once. A necessary evil. Pawns in the game she plays with the Ancient One. There is nothing she wouldn’t do to ensure her victory in the coming battle. I will not be outwitted again by that Echolian bastard, she thinks, whacking away at a nearby bush with her cane. Specks of snow and ice glitter where her hits land. And yet she always finds herself hesitating before turning another human.
The abhorred feeling of helplessness always comes creeping back. As well as the pain, and the panic of thinking your life is about to end. She has to push it all down. Grit her teeth and get it over with. Months of preparation leading up to the final act that barely lasts ten minutes. And then you wait, and 3 days later their pain and mortality will be but a distant memory.
But she’s slipping. She no longer only hesitates before, now the intrusive self-doubt catches up to her after the rituals too. The Ancient One is still the centre of her nightmares, but the dream has changed. She is no longer the helpless little lamb brought to the slaughter. She is one with the Ancient One, his hand is hers too as it raises the knife, their voices merging together as they chant the same curse together.
She knew this victory would cost her everything. But she never imagined the real price to pay would be stepping up to fill the void the Ancient One’s death will create.
Lucille never wanted to be like him. She only ever wanted to kill him. But it seems those two things are one and the same.
She awakens from her thoughts when the man joins the private detective in the hansom. An annoying little man, that Dr Van Helsing is, though harmless in the grand scheme of things. It doesn’t matter that he’s taken care of a Transylvanian rogue vampire with his entourage, it would take far more to stop her plans now. Lucille focuses on the woman instead, letting her will force itself into her mind. All too easy, she raises her eyebrows in an unimpressed fashion as she flicks through her thoughts as if she were reading the latest issue of The Times. She thought she would be more difficult to read. To control. But alas, she is just like everyone else, aside from the love that seems to seep out of her every thought for none other than Agent Du Mortain.
She grins, remembering her failed attempt at getting to the private detective earlier. She’s learned several invaluable lessons in those two years. One, you can’t trust dark elf mercenaries, no matter how much you pay them. Two, it’s better to divert the attention of the Agency first before you try to kidnap someone who has important connections in the London Metropolitan Police. Three, love makes people do really, really stupid things.
Thankfully, Lucille Licht is a smart woman, and an even better strategist - not to mention a quite powerful demon with telepathic abilities and her boot firmly planted on the supernatural underground’s neck - and this time, she has learned from all three of her mistakes. This time, there will be no Agent Du Mortain rushing to the rescue. (But that doesn’t mean she can’t use her name as bait, yes?)
Cemetery, Wayhaven, 1900
1 year and 8 months after Ava’s disappearance
He doesn’t appreciate being jerked around the way he has been lately, but he isn’t a man to grumble too much either. He was closest to the backwater little town, he gets to check out the possible supernatural case. Everyone draws the short straw sometimes, and he’s learned to cope with it. He has certainly lived long enough to do so.
The wind shifts, and suddenly Agent Fuller’s nostrils are invaded by the stench of magic. Things finally start looking up for him, and that thought alone is enough to make him pick up his pace, excitement coursing through his body. He lights a cigarette to conceal the smirk threatening to overtake his lips when he sees the pallid looks of the constables as they pass him by. One stops him to ask what his business is out here, but the Agency has already notified the meagre Wayhaven police force, and he is soon on his way again to the centre of the commotion. Cemetery of the commotion would be a more accurate description though - the little town was as dead in the mid-February frost as a place could get, and aside from the bored stationmaster who gave him directions, these men are the first living beings he’s encountered since his arrival.
“Name’s Agent Fuller. What can you tell me about the crime scene, constable?” Fuller asks as he exhales a lungful of smoke, turning to the least disturbed looking man surveying the scene.
“Welcome to the middle of nowhere, sir. Why don’t you come see for yourself?”
A handshake and a suppressed grin later Fuller follows the young man down a row of tombs. They take a sharp turn to the left, and immediately it is clear why he was called here. The sight is confirmation enough, but the smell of potent and ancient magic is the real giveaway.
“Looks like we’ve got ourselves a walker,” Fuller snorts as he crouches down, picking up a piece of the crumbled marble.
“The poor woman was buried only 3 days ago,” the constable mutters, rubbing his hands together before bringing them to his lips and blowing hot air onto them, desperately attempting to revitalise his frozen fingers. “Who could do such a monstrous thing?”
“Indeed, who could...” the agent mutters, too focused to really pay attention to the human on his right. The tomb was torn open, the coffin deserted, the body missing. It coincides with many reports made over the centuries - it’s unfortunately not rare for the dead to be taken and repurposed again for magic, but this particular pattern is characteristic of demonic rogues having too much time on their necromantic little hands. He will need to consult a few colleagues to confirm it, but the 3 days and the apparent magic hanging in the air is all the evidence he needs right now.
He stands, the lapels of his dark coat flapping in the chilly wind ominously. There’s a page typed up about the busy life of his missing body in his pocket, crumpled around the edges from being handled carelessly, but he takes it out to skim over it again. That’s when he spots the little detail about the private detective’s history with the Agency that he seemed to have missed the first time around.
‘1896-1898: under Agency protection
Threat: classified
Agents on the case: A. Du Mortain, N. Sewell’
The Agency gossips like there’s no tomorrow, and ever since Lady Ashbury’s return to the main facility, the gossip about the ‘Ice Queen’ and her pet detective have been the most fashionable thing to blabber on about. And since Fuller has been to the scene, it will be him who will have to provide all the answers when Du Mortain comes with her demanding questions, no doubt breaking down doors in the process as it is in her nature. Fuller is by no means a man who shies away from conflict or hard work, but he’s never been particularly good with emotions. Explaining to a lovesick elder vampire that her alleged lover is now very dead, and also quite probably the plaything of a very bored and elusive demon who likes to play with necromancy is not a task he would gladly carry out.
“Well, shit.”
Fuller shoves the page back into his pocket and sighs. He should retire and buy a house in the wilderness. Get a cat. Maybe try some cocaine - he once saw Heinrich Quincke use it for spinal anaesthesia before one of his surgeries, and have been meaning to try it out ever since. But he does none of those things - he never does.
He walks back the way he came, trying to prepare himself for the most awkward conversation of the century.
Needless to say, he couldn’t prepare himself for what was to come. But for once, he couldn’t feel mad about a messy situations. He just felt a little more hollow afterwards. And then he got another case as this one was closed and the woman was declared dead once more. And he moved on.
But, like with all his cases ending in death, he never forgot.
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artificialqueens · 4 years ago
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Me and You Together, 4/10 (Taywhora) - Ortega
fic summary: The cardinal rule of having flatmates is that you Do Not Catch Feelings For Your Flatmates, because everything inevitably goes to shit and gets made horrifically awkward. A’whora and Tayce both know this, but being in first year of uni and making good decisions have never really gone hand in hand.
a/n: fam this response is crazy it really is…thank u all so much for the love, kudos and comments, i’m so sorry if i’ve not managed to reply to urs yet but know that i’ve read them all and cherish every one and i will get round to replying and yelling some love and thanks at u soon!!! pls enjoy this chapter in which A'whora does not possess the flat’s shared brain cell at any point. that being said, i wish all the readers of this fic a very pleasant italicised ‘oh’ xo
last chapter: January-Tayce and A’whora still had unfinished business from a night out and a hungover morning in December.
this chapter: October- The gang make plans for their first year together, Tia gives everyone plans for the evening, and A'whora has a realisation that will change the dynamic of her friendship with Tayce forever.
***
“Bimini, what is it you’re actually doing?”
A’whora’s intrigued by the way her flatmate’s sitting on the sofa: legs crossed, notepad in one hand and a cigarette in the other, and looking deep in thought. They’ve not long since stretched over the smoke detector with a sock, having long since established nobody in the flat minds them smoking indoors as long as the windows are open. Lawrence is beside them on the other end of the sofa having been to all the lectures that’re required of her already today and has got a bright pink, blue and purple-flecked ball of yarn hanging from two knitting needles, with which she seems to be knitting some sort of cosy accessory. It’s a wholesome picture that’s playing out in front of A’whora, one that’s miles away from the raucous, drunk nights they’ve all shared in the first month of uni so far.
“Okay, here’s what it is,” Bimini starts, clicking their long nails together. “I am making us a freshers bucket list, and I want your input.”
“Ooh!” Lawrence perks up beside them, and A’whora, interest piqued, picks up the bowl of pasta, butter and cheese she’s spent all of five minutes making and crosses the room to sit beside her flatmates.
She knows it’s only been a month so far, but she really loves everyone she’s living with. For a start, there are four of them that take classes at the art college (the ‘art hoes’, as Tayce calls them), so they all get to walk to lectures together and hang about between classes and workshops with each other depending on how their days are going. Bimini is almost always in the flat, with not a lot of contact hours making up their journalism degree, so they’re a comforting presence for A’whora to come home to at whatever hour of the day, always asking how she is and always offering to make her coffee. Tia is sweet and funny (if ever-so-slightly grating to her at first) and they’ve bonded over being the only two flatmates seemingly able to keep the place clean and tidy. Lawrence is endearing and big-hearted, if A’whora spends half her life hoping that her next prank isn’t involving her in some way (Ellie is usually the butt of them). Ellie herself is one of A’whora’s closest flatmates; they’ll often stay up half the night finishing prototypes or assignments together, all while watching a film which they have spookily similar taste in- they’ve agreed on 101 and 102 Dalmatians, Hocus Pocus, and The Wizard of Oz so far.
And then there’s Tayce, who A’whora thinks is both the absolute carbon copy of herself and yet also so different, the yin to her yang. Tayce has been her closest friend in the flat since day one when she booted the door to her room down and dragged her out of her emotional stupor, and that’s really what’s set the tone for the rest of their friendship; Tayce, upbeat and motivating, constantly and infectiously helping A’whora feel the same way even when she doesn’t want to go out, or doesn’t feel like dragging herself out of her room for a chill flat night with the others, or even when she just feels like a heap of shit. She’s such a fun and positive person to be around, relentlessly optimistic and goofy, and she brings out that side of A’whora too. As opposed to during sixth form and high school, where she’d put up a front to make sure nobody fucked with her, A’whora finds that at uni she can be the person she truly is and let her guard down a little.
This includes being open about her sexuality for the first time ever. She’s out to her family (for the better or worse), but nobody else back home knows (not even her friends) and she wants to keep it that way for now. But at uni things are different- nobody knows her here, nobody has these preconceived ideas of who she is and who she has to be, so she’d taken the plunge and been open about everything. None of the others had cared of course, in fact they’d all been too excited about the fact there’s not a single straight person in their flat comprised of four lesbians (Tayce, Lawrence, Tia and A’whora), one bi (Ellie) and one pan (Bimini).
“What’ve you got so far?” A’whora asks Bimini, sitting down on the sofa opposite her two flatmates.
Bimini reads off their notepad. “Casino night, bottomless brunch…get the train down to Newcastle, have a big night out, stay out all night an’ get the first train home-”
“Christ, that’ll be a challenge for me, you know I get sleepy around midnight,” Lawrence chuckles.
Bimini shrugs. “We’ll just get you an IV drip of Ellie’s Monster, you’ll be alright.”
“What else’ve you got?”
“That’s it so far.”
A’whora spears a pasta spiral, tilts her head in thought as she eats it. “Get drunk in a lecture.”
“Aw, good one!” Lawrence cries enthusiastically. Bimini, for their part, frowns with disapproval.
“Wait, no! Not a good one. Not a good one at all. It’s alright for you art school bitches, you’ve got some lectures together and you can coordinate, where does that leave me n’ Tia?”
“I guess that leaves you…downing a bottle of five pound chardonnay on the back bench of a lecture hall like a tramp with a drinking problem,” Lawrence shrugs, A’whora yelping out a laugh as Bimini shoves Lawrence with their foot.
Just then, there’s movement in the hall and as A’whora turns around she’s greeted by the sight of a tired-looking Tayce and Ellie walking into the kitchen. They shrug off their coats and take off their shoes and dump their bags on the kitchen table with a huff before they walk over to the others. Tayce spreads herself out over the sofa that A’whora’s sitting on, thudding her feet onto her lap without asking permission, to which A’whora instantly pushes them off her and gets a glare and a smirk in return.
“Lawrie, are you knitting?” Ellie laughs, sitting on the arm of the sofa beside her.
“Yeah? And?”
Ellie snorts in amusement. “Just didn’t realise we were living with a wee granny.”
“Well actually, bawbag! I was in the middle of making you a scarf because I can’t stand to listen to you talking shite about how you’re cold every time we leave the flat, but I can leave it if you want,” Lawrence explains. A’whora thinks it’s funny how Ellie backtracks immediately; she can’t tell if she’s blushing or just out of breath from scaling their block’s stairs. Bimini gains control of the conversation, tilting their head in intrigue.
“How were your lectures, huns?”
“Shit, thanks for asking,” Tayce groans, thudding her head down dramatically against the sofa cushions. “I don’t know, I just can’t concentrate when I’m getting talked at for an hour at a time. I need to be doing stuff, you know?”
“Feel that,” Ellie joins in, deflated. A’whora can sympathise- she loves the practical elements of her course, but not so much the lectures. She’s glad she shares a lot of them with Ellie, and the two of them can dick about and text each other and doodle designs in their notebooks while keeping one ear on whoever’s speaking.
“Well if you want to be doing something, you can help us with this,” Bimini suggests, explaining the bucket list they’ve been making.
The girls get settled and the ideas start to flow, Lawrence putting her speakers on for background noise as they all come up with new and increasingly more chaotic exploits. Ellie suggests trying every cocktail in Levels which gets scribbled down into Bimini’s notepad, and Tayce suggests going to Levels sober, which doesn’t get afforded the same appreciation. A’whora comes up with crashing the catered halls for breakfast one day, which they all agree is a good idea but the chances of it actually happening are low considering the earliest riser in the flat is Tayce and even she doesn’t waken up til half nine on a weekend.
“What’re some clubs we’ve not been to yet?” Bimini asks, shrugging. “Could put those down, try an’ visit every one in the city?”
Lawrence snorts derisively. “You go to Underground if you want your phone stolen, Velvet if you want to be bullied by fifteen year olds in the toilets, and Crystal if you want to subject yourself to painful misogyny and probably some light sexual assault.”
“So none of those, then,” Bimini murmurs.
“Those are all really het as well, though,” Ellie wrinkles her nose up in distaste. Then her face lights up as she gets an idea. “Oh! Put down Pride in July.”
“Nice one,” Bimini nods as they scribble down Ellie’s suggestion, the others making little hums of approval.
The conversation goes on for quite some time. Halfway through it Tayce seems to decide she’s bored of lying down and instead moves to sit on the floor between A’whora’s legs, asking her to play with her hair. They’ll do this sometimes- it’s a routine they fall into, A’whora being able to style Tayce’s endlessly long, straight hair and Tayce finding the whole thing therapeutic. They have a lot of little routines like this: they’ll sit close together on the sofa during a flat movie night and take turns leaning on each others’ shoulders, spontaneously give each other hugs at random points throughout the day, trace patterns into each others’ palms when the other seems stressed.
It’s nice. A’whora’s never really had a friendship like this, soft and caring and kind. In school her group was the kind that made catty jokes about each other then buffered them with a “love you!” afterwards and took kissy-face group selfies only to bitch about each other on a private group chat mere hours later. If it was a wolfpack then it was rabid and cannibalistic, and it had seemed like a full-time job ensuring she was never the runt of it. What she’s got with all her flatmates now- especially Tayce- makes her feel like she can finally breathe.
“What about the Centurion Challenge?” Lawrence suggests with a small gasp, breaking A’whora’s reverie as she expertly twirls Tayce’s hair into a loose and chunky French plait.
“Jesus Christ, Lawrence,” Ellie mutters in amusement.
“What’s the Centurion Challenge?” Bimini asks, pulling a face.
Lawrence gives a blythe shrug as she elaborates. “A hundred shots in a hundred minutes.”
A’whora ruins Tayce’s braid in shock, her hair untwisting itself from the braid as if it’s outraged too. The cry she gives joins in harmony with that of Tayce’s and Bimini’s. “A hundred shots? You’d fucking die!”
“Not of vodka! Obviously not of vodka! I know we all have one communal brain cell between us but Christ, can one of yous not use it?!” Lawrence protests. “It’s a hundred shots of beer. Don’t shit yourselves.”
“Aw, well that’s alright then,” Bimini pipes up sarcastically. “What’s actually wrong with Scottish people? Is your breastmilk spiked with whiskey? What d’you get instead of Cow and Gate formula, just cocaine?"
“Actually, a hundred shots of beer sounds more doable to me,” Tayce shrugs, and A’whora can feel her relax against her lap.
“I’d need to change it, I can’t stand beer,” A’whora considers. Ellie cocks her head in consideration.
“Well what alcohol do you like?”
“Fucking none of it,” A’whora laughs. “Cocktails. Vodka cokes. Anything where there’s juice to cover it up.”
Tayce twists her head to look up at her, a little twinkle of mischief in her eye. “I think the challenge ceases to be a challenge when it’s reduced to one hundred watered down shots of Woo Woo, Rory.”
As the others blurt out a laugh A’whora glares down at Tayce, but she can’t help but break out into a giggle too when Tayce grabs her knee and gives it a playful wobble, letting her know she was only joking without even having to say a thing.
A’whora’s not sure what time it is when she hears the front door swing shut and Tia emerges from the hallway, her long hair all messed up from the seemingly ever-present wind outside and almost obscuring the bright smile plastered on her face. “Hey, huns!”
“Oi oi,” Tayce greets her from her position on the floor. “What’s got you so smiley?”
“Nooothing,” Tia smirks, dragging the word out playfully. “Just got an invite to the night out of a very cute girl in my MT society…and she said you guys can all come too. Pres at her flat and then out to The Avenue. Evening plans sorted?”
“Oh, love that!” Bimini gives an enthusiastic clap. “Go on then, who’s the girl? Whose night are we crashing?”
“Her name’s Veronica,” Tia smiles bashfully. “She’s so lovely. Honestly, she wouldn’t mind you coming! She’s got one of the big flats over at Gourock Court so it’s not like it’ll be packed.”
“You don’t exactly want to go to a party that’s not going to be packed,” Ellie screws up her nose. She looks unimpressed and her tone is flat. “And even if it is, I don’t know if I’m in the mood for a flat party with a ton of new people, Tia.”
A’whora’s face drops and she locks eyes with Lawrence simultaneously, who’s got an equally incredulous look on her face. “Els, are you unwell? You never turn down a night out.”
Ellie shrugs quietly, not giving much away on her face. Tia, obviously keen to move to the girl she’s crushing on, carries on persuading her. “C’mon, Eleanor, don’t be such a fucking…square! It’s the musical theatre society, we’re just a walking Pride festival who all happen to be able to hold a tune. There’s loads of fit lesbians?”
“Well if I wasn’t convinced before, I sure am now,” Tayce purrs, a little smile appearing on her lips and a cheeky twinkle in her eyes. A’whora feels her laugh come out weakly. She doesn’t know why, but an odd, uncomfortable feeling lodges itself in her gut. She can’t quite put her finger on what exactly it is or why it’s put itself there.
“And there’s gonna be so many musicals on the playlist!” Tia continues to insist, despite being met with Ellie’s sour face. “I know you’ll love it! They’d probably even play stuff from Shrek if you got them drunk enough.”
A’whora can’t help but scrunch up her nose in distaste. “Hey, I’m only coming if they play fucking…normal people music as well. I’m not gonna be sat in a room with twenty white kids trying to rap to Hamilton or whatever the fuck it is.”
Tia rolls her eyes, plants her hands on her hips in exasperation. “Calm down, A’whora, you’ll still get all the top 40 dance-pop shit you love so much.”
“To be honest, it sounds class. And The Avenue’s always good,” Bimini cuts in calmly. A’whora does have to agree with that. They’ve not been there in a while- the bar across the road from the city’s most popular LGBT club- and its selection of early 00s pop princess tracks combined with its deal of two vodka mixers and a shot for a fiver makes it a guaranteed good night out.
“Well it seems like we’re all down, even if this stroppy cow isn’t,” Tia smiles happily, sticking her tongue out at Ellie for good measure. Ellie finally heaves a world-weary sigh, rolling her eyes dramatically as she relents.
“Ugh, fine! Fine, but this Verruca or whatever the hell she’s called better be the hottest bitch on the planet for you to drag us all out with your MT weirdos, Tia Maria,” she grumps. Tia ignores her bad mood and lets out a cheer which the others join in with, and A’whora resolves to interrogate Ellie about her Bitter Betty attitude later on. Preferably when they’re both drunk. That always makes things easier.
In the melee of excitement, Tayce twists round from her position on the carpet, folds her arms and rests them on top of A’whora’s thighs. “Right. You need to come help me choose an outfit if we’re going out. I need to look fit.”
A’whora smiles with pride. “Ooh, personal stylist duties? I’m honoured.”
“Well I’m hardly gonna ask Tia, am I?” Tayce giggles quietly, and A’whora joins in like it’s a little secret they’re sharing. “Or Ellie. She’d just send me out in one of her bodysuit/skirt combos. I swear to God that girl is like Marge bloody Simpson. Open up her wardrobe and she’ll have twenty sets of the same outfit. Serial killer behaviour, that.”
At this point A’whora is laughing so much that it draws the attention of the others, who eye them with suspicious stares. “What the hell’s so funny?”
A’whora gives Tayce a mischievous look. “Tayce just called Ellie a serial killer.”
Tayce yelps in outrage at having been called out, and as Ellie narrows her eyes Tayce leaps up from the floor and tugs A’whora off of the sofa with her. “That’s taking it out of context, you absolute hound! Come on, help me pick something.”
Tayce’s fingers stay curled around A’whora’s hand all the way down the corridor and into her bedroom. It’s a feeling that A’whora likes because it makes her feel close to her friend, and Tayce taking her hand is like an affirmation and a reassurance all in one; that she likes her, that their friendship has reached the level where hand-holding has become acceptable, that A’whora is worthy of being liked, of being someone’s friend- their real, proper friend. The validation sets her heart off like a flare. It’s nice to feel wanted.
A’whora perches on the edge of Tayce’s bed as she scrapes the coat hangers in her wardrobe and throws outfits onto the bed like a tornado, each more gorgeous than the last and all ones Tayce would look stunning in. That’s something that always strikes A’whora about Tayce; just how beautiful she is, how absolutely blessed with the God-given good genes. The way she looks serene and ethereal without makeup, walking to lectures in the morning with the sun hitting her face and giving her skin a glow. The way she paints for a night out and knows how to accentuate everything about her face that’s already perfect, a feat that would seem like an exaggeration if A’whora hadn’t seen it for herself to confirm it’s true. She frequently finds herself having to hold back from giving compliments to Tayce because if she started she’d never stop.
“Okay, first thoughts are…” Tayce announces unnecessarily loudly, and A’whora laughs at the way she’s talking as if she’s a stylist on a morning TV show. “…I’m thinking something black.”
“Of course you are,” A’whora interrupts with a laugh. “Tayce wearing black. How predictable.”
Tayce gives her a shove on the shoulder that’s too hard and makes her fall back against the mattress. “Shut up! I’ll wear something other than black when Lawrence wears something other than purple, how’s about that?”
The pair of them giggle at the joke as Tayce rifles through the clothes she’s shortlisted, holding up a black leather jacket and a black bralet with an intricate lace hem. The combination makes A’whora’s eyes fly wide open in appreciation.
“This?” Tayce raises an eyebrow at her inquisitively. The fact she’s obviously seen her reaction makes A’whora feel a little self-conscious and she doesn’t particularly know why. “Because I’m wanting to wear either my wet-look leggings or my black vinyl skirt with the zip up the front, and I don’t know if that’s too much leather effect stuff?”
“It’s too much,” A’whora nods, physically unable to help her honesty. “Also I think you should wear the skirt because you’ve got good legs and you should get them out any chance you get. But also the bralet won’t go with it because it’ll make your proportions all wrong.”
Tayce smiles appreciatively as she throws the bralet back into her wardrobe as if A’whora’s given her a command and not a suggestion. “See, this is another reason why you’re the queen of outfit advice. Bimini wouldn’t give me this level of honesty, they’re too nice.”
A’whora feels a warmth spread in her chest at the compliment, but she doesn’t show it. Instead she snorts, nods in agreement. “Yeah, because you could come out dressed in a pair of child’s pyjamas and they’d still say they love it. They’d say it’s very Y2K or something.”
Tayce lets out a cackle before holding up the skirt and leather jacket, humming in thought. “Okay, so you’re saying ditch the jacket but keep the skirt.”
“Yes.”
“And ditch the bralet.”
“Yes.”
“So you want me to go out in a skirt and a pair of heels and nothing else,” Tayce raises an eyebrow at her, and as A’whora bursts out laughing and protests she has to fight off a blush at the thought of her best friend topless in heels. Topless in heels and a vinyl skirt. Topless in heels and a vinyl skirt with a zip that could just be pulled down to leave her in-
The heat floods A’whora’s face like she’s been smacked and she shifts on the bed in an attempt at dissipating the feelings that’ve hit her like a tsunami. Inappropriate. Weird. Way too weird. Don’t do that again.
“What about the bright blue fur coat you’ve got? Because you could have an all black outfit with that as a bit of colour,” she suggests, shrugging lightly in an attempt to pretend that she hadn’t just been thinking about Tayce in the way she had.
Tayce’s face lights up and she points at A’whora with one hand and reaches into her wardrobe with the other. “Love that. Okay, top?”
“Are you addressing me? I’ve never topped for anyone,” A’whora attempts a joke. If Tayce can make jokes like that to her then she can do it right back.  
“That’s very clear, baby,” Tayce shoots in response without missing a beat. Before A’whora realises it, she’s flexing her toes. What the fuck is happening to her? She needs to steer this conversation back on track.
She thinks for a second. “You’re a size eight, right?”
“In theory. The amount of pot noodles I’ve been chucking down my neck since I moved in is very quickly rendering that a distant memory, I’ll tell ya,” Tayce says, as she leans against the door of her wardrobe and folds her arms.
“I’ve got a black lace bodysuit that would go with that. It’s a ten so it’ll fit. D’you want to try it?”
“Well despite the fact a skirt and a bodysuit was the very thing I just roasted Ellie for always wearing…that sounds lush. Thanks, Rory Roo,” Tayce agrees, the nickname-of-a-nickname setting off the click of a small pilot light in A’whora’s heart. She’s about to ask if she wants to come try it on just now when she hears both their names being yelled from the kitchen.
The pair of them head back through to find that Tia has changed the playlist on the speakers from the chilled-out, calm acoustic one that had been playing to her early 00’s tunes. Combined with Bimini half-singing, half-yelling along to Murder on the Dancefloor and the blast of the extractor fan as Ellie stirs something in a big metal pot at the hob, it’s a far cry from the calm, cosy scene that A’whora had witnessed in the kitchen some hours prior.
Ellie had been the one who had shouted on them, and she whips around from the cooker when she realises that Tayce and A’whora have come through. “I’m making dinner for me, Bims and Tia, you wanting some?”
“Depends what it is. Come on, talk it up, Ellie. Give us some options,” Tayce shrugs with feigned disinterest, and A’whora can’t help the bubble of laughter that bursts from her mouth as Ellie narrows her eyes at her.
“It’s spaghetti and meatballs, and your alternatives are fuck off or die,” she shoots back savagely, and the whoop of shock and laughter that goes up from the others soars above the music and the fan. Tayce laughs good-naturedly in spite of the barb.
“I’m joking, ‘course I’ll take some.”
A’whora wrinkles her nose. “You’re making meatballs for a meal that Bimini is gonna eat?”
“They’re not real ones, dipshit,” Bimini pipes up from over on the sofa. “It’s that Birdseye Green Cuisine shit, innit.”
“Birdseye Green Cuisine shit,” A’whora repeats disdainfully. “If you ever go on The Apprentice, Bim, Alan Sugar’s gonna shit himself at your selling abilities.”
Tayce snorts, tries and fails to cover it up. When her eyes rest on A’whora they share a little smile, and A’whora’s grows bigger when she thinks about the way they’re both so in sync all the time.
“They’re nice, I promise! Veronica’s talked them up loads, she told me she’s been trying to eat more veggie things,” Tia insists, with an entirely unnecessary namedrop of her crush. A’whora relents and says she’ll have a small bowl before jumping out of her skin as Ellie bangs the spoon against the pot somewhat aggressively with a face like thunder.
Before A’whora can ask Ellie about her bad mood, Tia speaks again as she scrolls her phone to change the song. “Honestly, Ellie, you’re a star for doing dinner. Thanks so much.”
“Aw, don’t be silly, doll! It’s nothing!” Ellie turns around from the hob and bats the compliment away, shooting Tia a dazzling smile in return. It’s funny the way her demeanour seems to instantly do a complete 180 at the praise, and it makes A’whora wonder what’s changed.
She’s distracted, though, by the way Lawrence enters in her dressing gown with her hair up in a towel, obviously having come straight from the shower. She pouts and whines in a very un-Lawrence way as she lingers at the doorframe between the hall and the kitchen.
“Guysss, does anyone have an ID they can give me for tonight?”
“What about your friend? Who was it…Rosé?” A’whora shrugs, and Lawrence fixes her with a wide-eyed stare of incredulity.
“Oh my God, A’whora! I never thought about asking the girl I’ve been borrowing ID from since the start of uni! Thanks for that!” she says sarcastically, Bimini giving a yelp of laughter and A’whora leaning off the countertops and swiping at Lawrence in retort. “She’s using it. She asked her girlfriend and her flatmates for me but they’ve all got plans. I felt like a fuckin’ daytime TV charity advert.”
“For just one pound a week, you could help an underaged child get blackout drunk on triple trebles,” A’whora puts on a dramatic, concerned voice, proud of the way it makes Tayce blurt out a laugh.
“It’s such fucking bullshit,” Lawrence huffs, leaning against the fridge and folding her arms. “I mean my eighteenth’s in five days and I’ve been drinking in parks since I was fourteen, how can I not just be let into a fuckin’ bar?”
“Grow up and order a fake one,” Ellie shakes her head with incredulity, smashing the wooden spoon against the pot again with a bang-bang-bang to get the excess pasta sauce off.
“Just you pipe down, hen, you shouldn’t even be at uni. In fact, have you even completed primary yet?”
The two girls stick their tongues out at each other, a mirror-image of petty bickering that makes A’whora laugh. Luckily Bimini steps in, shrugging as they open their purse.
“Here, babe. I’ve still got my course friend’s provisional from when she dropped it on Gordon Street when she was off her face. I ain’t given her it back yet an’ I’m sure she wouldn’t care if you borrowed it. She’s chill.”
Lawrence accepts enthusiastically, bouncing over to Bimini and thanking them gratefully. A’whora watches her face drop, though, when she takes a look at the photo.
“There’s no way this’ll work.”
Bimini tuts and shakes their head, the picture of casual composure. “It’s fine, babes, they never look properly anyway.”
Lawrence drops the hand that’s holding the license to her side and fixes her friend with an astounded glare. “Bimini. This girl is black.”
As the others screech with outrage and mirth, Bimini waves Lawrence’s concerns away blithely. “It’ll be dark! It’s fine! Asttina an’ you have both got similar…well…you’re both girls, an’ you’re about the same height. Give or take a few inches.”    
“Christ. I’m going to have to just forward roll past the bouncers, aren’t I? Then draw a fuckin’ club stamp on my arm in Sharpie.”
“Oh my God, stop moaning!” Ellie sighs from her position at the hob, bangs the spoon again for emphasis. “Look, I’ll ask Pippa from flat 2, alright? You both have brown hair, so…that’ll probably be enough.”
A’whora thinks it’s interesting the way Lawrence doesn’t shoot something back in her foghorn of a voice like she normally does. Instead she smiles warmly, dashes over to the kitchen where she hugs Ellie from behind, squeezing her tightly at the stomach and making her flinch in surprise.
“Thanks, Ellie-Bellie,” she sing-songs, swaying her aggressively from side to side until Ellie bats her away, flicking the spoon in a way that threatens to shower them both in marinara sauce.
“Right, that’s plenty. Don’t even do things I enjoy for that long.”
“When’s this gonna be ready, Els?” Bimini shouts through as Lawrence lets go. “ ‘Ave I got time to do my makeup before it?”
Ellie shrugs. “If you can do your makeup in ten minutes.”
A’whora kicks her leg out in Tayce’s direction and jerks her head towards the hall. “Do you want to try on that bodysuit before tea?”
Tayce nods enthusiastically in agreement, so they go back along the corridor with a shout to the others telling them they won’t be long. A’whora holds the door of her room open for Tayce and her heart sinks in embarrassment when she realises she forgot to make her bed this morning.
“Sorry about the mess,” she apologies, to which Tayce gives a cry of a laugh in response.
“A’whora, have you seen my room? You’re fine, kid, don’t worry.”
A’whora thinks that’s true- Tayce’s room is a state, but somehow it seems to suit her. Tayce’s room with the crowded bulletin board, desk covered in sweet wrappers and sketches, floor carpeted with clothes that need washed and outfits that didn’t make the cut. The cracked picture frame on her window-sill of the first selfie the six of them all got together on the first night of freshers and the huge cheese plant that sits next to her bedside table, Tayce’s pride and joy. They’re all little intricate shards that join up to form a perfect picture of her personality, and A’whora thinks it’s sort of perfect.
She looks out the bodysuit from its neatly Marie Kondo-d place in her wardrobe and hands it gently to Tayce. “Try it and see. It’s a small 10 anyway so it’ll probably be fine for you.”
Tayce accepts it gratefully and hooks a finger around both of the straps, letting the rest of the material fall out of its perfectly folded little parcel. She gives a little gasp of appreciation as she looks at it. “Oh yes, baby. I think this’ll do just fine.”
A’whora feels good- proud that she’s managed to find the perfect piece for Tayce’s outfit, to help her look as inevitably gorgeous as she knows she will. The smile on her face falters, though, when Tayce shoots her a wink and leans against the wall with her shoulder. “This is gonna get me someone I can pop off my acrylics for, I can tell. You’ve got the best taste, girl.”
“Are you actually going to try and get with someone tonight?” A’whora injects a laugh into her question that she’s banking on sounding genuine, otherwise it comes across as accusatory and that’s not what she means it to be. Or is it? She doesn’t know. “You know how messy nights at The Avenue always get. Last time we were there Lawrence got so drunk she told us she couldn’t see, remember?”
Tayce laughs her off with a shrug. “Well then I’ll just have to be careful with my drinks, won’t I?”
A’whora gives a false laugh, tries so hard to get it to meet her eyes. Why is she so pressed about this? She gets with girls on nights out too, she’s brought the occasional one night stand to the flat. Tayce is allowed to do the same.
So why does she feel ever so slightly gutted?
If her smile looks fake (which it is) then Tayce doesn’t notice, and she only shoots her a smile as she opens the bedroom door. “You’re an angel. I’ll pop this on then be back in five.”
A’whora takes the opportunity of Tayce having left to make her bed, and as she does so she feels lots of little thoughts dart around her mind like minnows, none of them staying in the same place for long enough to be able to be deciphered. She manages to catch a few before they flee away and she clings to them, turning them over in her head: why does she feel so bothered about the prospect of Tayce finding a girl at the party, talking to her and making a connection and laughing at her jokes? Why had it felt like a punch to the gut when Tayce was joking about doing so? Why does she have this part of her that feels like an idiot for setting Tayce up to look her best and knowing that it’s for the benefit of somebody else, somebody that doesn’t know her like she does?
And then her bedroom door opens and A’whora turns around and lays eyes on her best friend. Tayce in her high heels and bare legs and the skirt with the zip. Tayce with her baby blue fake fur coat and her straight, dark hair tumbling over its shoulders. Tayce in the bodysuit- A’whora’s bodysuit- with the lace and the mesh that clings to her chest like it was designed just for her. There’s something about the fact that she’s wearing something that belongs to A’whora that makes something inside her chest tingle, the fact it’s a little piece of her in Tayce’s jigsaw puzzle that seems to fit regardless of the difference.
“What d’you think?” Tayce smiles, all too aware of how drop-dead stunning she looks.
And then the realisation hits A’whora like a train.
Oh.
Fuck.
She’s screwed.
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whenihaveyouromione · 3 years ago
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When I Have You - Chapter 42
Read on Fanfiction.net and ao3!
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Chapter 42
This, Ron thought, unable to stop the grin spreading across his face, was why he loved living with Hermione so much.
It was night’s like these, when they had no interruptions, no one visiting them, and they weren’t being asked to visit anyone else. Just a plain old regular evening after work where one of them cooked dinner, they ate at the kitchen table — just the two of them — and then spent the evening in the living room together. Sometimes Hermione got a book out, other times she’d bring some work to do (if Ron had some to do as well), and they’d just sit together in each other’s company. Sometimes they didn’t even do anything other than sit together, Hermione leaning against Ron and just feeling… happy.
They’d talk about things that didn’t really matter, like what work would be like the next day, what they were going to do on the weekend, or sometimes Ron would even tune in the old wireless he’d borrowed from his parents to listen to the Quidditch commentary if a game was still going, and they’d talk about that.
It was pleasant, it was wonderful, and it was so normal that they were Ron’s favourite nights.
But what made this one just that little bit better was they were finally starting their wedding plans. Like everything else in their relationship, getting to the actual planning had taken a very long time. There was always something popping up that prevented them from doing it — Ron starting with the Aurors and being slammed with paperwork he needed to have completed; Hermione’s hours being a little scattered as her office worked on passing laws; and then the excitement of Harry and Ginny’s ever looming wedding and having to help them with the final preparations.
They’d made it to June before they’d even had a chance to think about what they would want to do, and then that involved contacting locations to have a look at, working out if they were catered locations, then working out what date they were going to get married, then the time they were going to get married at. Not to mention who to invite, who not to invite, how many people the place they hadn’t yet chosen could hold, and what would happen if some of those people couldn’t come on the date that they hadn’t yet picked?
It was now the beginning of August — less than three weeks before Harry and Ginny’s wedding — and they’d only just finished looking at the shortened list of places.
So now Hermione — he loved her so much for being so organised — had brought all the stuff she’d collected into the room and had laid them out on the floor between them. They each sat cross-legged on the rug by the unlit fireplace, staring at the abundance of pamphlets, scribbled notes, and folders of things.
Neither of them had a clue where to begin.
“Maybe… maybe we could start with picking a date?” Hermione asked. She picked up a list of dates they’d briefly brainstormed, ranging from December of this year, all the way through to the December of next.
“The sooner the better,” Ron said, grinning at her.
“But we need time to organise everything…” She scanned the list. “So I guess that cancels out any of the dates this year.” She picked up the quill and drew lines through four dates.
Ron watched her do it with a small feeling of disappointment. He’d been hopeful that it would be this year.
“Maybe even January and February are too soon…” She crossed them out too.
“What about March?” Ron asked. He pointed to the two dates they had selected for that month. “That’s not too soon, is it?”
“No, I don’t think so, but…” She picked up one of the pamphlets of a location they’d looked at. It was a small Muggle pub with a really beautiful garden out the back. They hosted weddings every Saturday there. “They don’t have any availability until June next year.”
“Well, let’s not get married there,” Ron said. “I didn’t really like it anyway.”
Hermione bit her lip. “But I really liked it there… it was my favourite.”
They looked at each other for a moment. Ron had no response. She really had liked that place more than any of the others — he’d seen it on her face the moment they’d stepped inside. It was small, intimate, and he knew it was exactly what she was looking for.
Except, it hadn’t really been for Ron. The only weddings he’d attended were Bill and Fleur’s and Percy and Audrey’s, and he’d kind of imagined that Bill’s was how his wedding would be, too. It was how Harry and Ginny’s was happening, with all the protections around the Burrow to stop snoopers. But Hermione wanted something different, something that was special to them and not what everyone else was doing.
He watched her for another moment. “What about by the lake?” he asked eventually.
Their favourite lake, the lake they went on dates to, or escaped to. The place that was special to them.
“They have no time restrictions on that,” he continued when Hermione said nothing. “You can only get there via Apparition.”
“Which means Mum and Dad can’t,” Hermione said gently.
“I’m sure we can get some special leeway to Apparate them there for the day?” Ron asked.
Hermione looked at him.
Ron sighed. “Not the lake,” he muttered.
Hermione crossed that off the list.
“You didn’t cross the garden pub off,” Ron noted.
“Because I still think it’s a logical option,” Hermione replied.
“But I said I didn’t like it. You were more than happy to cross the lake off, though. The one you didn’t like.”
“That’s different,” Hermione said. “The lake’s not possible.”
“But I liked it, and you crossed it off. But the one I don’t like, but you do, you leave on.”
“Well, forgive me for wanting my parents to actually attend our wedding, Ron,” Hermione said sharply.
“I don’t care about you crossing it off. I just want it to be fair. We both have to like where we get married.”
Hermione glared at him for a moment before she snatched up the quill and crossed off the pub as well. She punctured a hole through the parchment in the process.
Ron looked down at his hands, feeling a mild wave of guilt wash over him. He was remembering the way her face had lit up as the person had shown them around, how every corner of that place had convinced her that that was the place. He’d loved seeing her so happy, so excited, and for a while he’d told himself that her happiness was what mattered the most. As long as she was happy, then so was he. But now that it came down to it… well, it was his wedding, too. He needed to be happy with the decisions they made, and he just hadn’t liked that place at all. It was small and cramped and rather old. Not a place he saw himself marrying Hermione.
“Well, I don’t think we can get married until at least May.”
“Why?” Ron asked, looking back up at her. That was practically a whole year away.
“Because there’s a lot of planning involved, and in case you haven’t noticed, we still haven’t decided on anything. We’ve been engaged for months, and we haven’t even begun to plan.”
“We’re planning now, aren’t we?” Ron asked, his tone shorter than he wanted it to be. Why was she making such a big deal about the pub? Why was she upset about it? Why was he upset about it?
“And we haven’t gotten anywhere other than deciding what we don’t want,” Hermione replied, her voice just as short.
“We’ve narrowed the list down, haven’t we?” Ron asked.
Hermione said nothing.
“I don’t want to wait another year to marry you,” Ron said. “Do you know how hard it was to wait to get that ring? When I just wanted to ask you, but couldn’t —”
“I never asked you to spend so much,” Hermione said. “In fact, I never asked you to get a ring to begin with. That was your decision, not mine. I would have gladly married you with or without one.”
Ron stared at her, stung by the harshness in her voice. He looked back down at his hands, unsure on how to respond.
He heard Hermione sigh. “Ron, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that. It’s beautiful, and I love how much effort you put into it… sorry. I’m just feeling frustrated. I feel as if we aren’t getting anywhere, and I just want us to get married.”
“I don’t want to wait a long time to marry you, Hermione,” Ron said again, looking back at her. “March next year. That’s my limit. Any later will drive me mad.”
Hermione’s shoulders dropped as she released another sigh she’d apparently been holding. “Ron, I just don’t see it as doable for what we want —”
“For what you want, you mean?”
She paused again, her eyes moving from the spread in front of them, then to him. She did this a few times before she spoke. She sounded upset, and Ron pushed down another wave of guilt and waited for her to respond.
“No. I thought we both wanted the same thing. To get married. But Ron… what about the wedding we talked about? All the things we said we wanted? I’m just trying… to make that happen.”
Ron picked up a second quill and began twirling it in his fingers. He didn’t really know why he was so upset with her. He suddenly just felt angry. Some part of him had thought that their inability to get started on planning was due to their busy lives. But maybe it was because they couldn’t actually agree on anything. Whatever one wanted, the other seemed to reject. He hadn’t noticed, but he suspected it had been like that all along, which was why they were only getting to planning it now.
Suddenly, his excitement at doing this wasn’t there anymore. He felt defeated. “Why don’t you want to marry me as soon as possible?” he asked.
“Ron —”
“Have the damn thing at the pub if that’s what you want,” he snapped. “If it’s going to make you delay it, then I don’t care where it is. I just want to be married to you.”
Hermione didn’t speak, but watched Ron with a sympathetic expression. Then gently, she said, “Of course I want to marry you as soon as possible. But I also want our wedding to be special. It’s only going to be one time that we do this. I want us to remember it.”
“I’ll remember marrying you no matter where it is or who’s there, just as long as you’re there.”
She smiled at that, but it still didn’t seem to convince her. “It took us a while to find the right house, remember? Then we found this one. It’ll be the same for this. We… just haven’t found the perfect venue for us yet.”
He stared at her. Then said, “Alright. So no date, no place. Anything else we can do?”
Hermione shuffled through the things on the floor and extracted another bit of parchment. “We can maybe decide on a time to get married. As in time of day.”
“Midday?” Ron said.
He saw Hermione open her mouth and knew immediately that she didn’t agree with that. But a moment later, she smiled and nodded. “That could be a nice time.”
But her agreement just upset Ron even more, because she was only doing it to placate him. And he knew that tonight — despite him really looking forward to it initially — wasn’t going to work. He didn’t want her to agree to anything just because she thought disagreeing would upset him.
They wanted two completely different weddings when it came to the crunch, and he didn’t know how to work around it.
“Do you have another suggestion?” he snapped.
“Ron, I said it was —”
“But you’re not happy about it. I can tell. I know you, Hermione, and you just said it because you thought it was the right thing to say. What I wanted to hear.”
“Well… did you want me to disagree then?” she asked.
“No.”
There was more silence. Ron threw the quill back on the ground. Some ink splattered onto the pamphlets and parchment, but he didn’t care.
“Ron… I’m really not sure what you want from me right now.”
And the truth was, neither did Ron. He sighed.
“Are you okay?” Hermione asked.
“I just thought it would be easier than this, that’s all. I thought… I thought because it’s our wedding — a really important moment, one I’ve been looking forward to with you for a long time now — we’d be able to sort it out. I didn’t think it would be this hard. It was easier in my head.”
Despite herself, Hermione gave him a small smile. “What’s in your head, then?” she asked.
“Nothing that you’ll like,” he mumbled.
“Tell me, and I’ll determine that, thank you.”
Ron watched her for a moment, admiring her patience for what he knew was him being rather difficult and sulky. It was just something he didn’t know how to control in this moment. He didn’t always know how to control his emotions. It was the reason he felt so strongly for Hermione… all the time. He didn’t know how to rein them in and was much better at just letting himself feel.
“Well, for one, I wanted it to be a year ago, but that was my fault and I know that. Two, I just pictured us somewhere really nice, somewhere beautiful, somewhere intimate. Somewhere like the lake.”
Hermione opened her mouth, but Ron cut her off.
“I know why we can’t have it there!” he said quickly. “I just didn’t think about that. I was kind of just thinking of you. Of us. I didn’t know all of this other stuff would be involved. I just… wanted to marry you. That was all I saw, all I really cared about when I pictured it. Just you.”
For a moment, nothing happened. They both sat on their living room floor, looking at each other. Then, Hermione crawled towards him briefly and kissed him lightly on the lips.
“We have forever to get married,” she said when she pulled away. She was smiling. “It’s not something we have to rush or do quickly. Just when we’re ready. It’s how we’ve done everything else, isn’t it? When we’ve been ready?”
“The only thing is,” Ron began, “I’m ready now. I want to marry you now.”
“It doesn’t change anything,” Hermione said. “Whether we do it tomorrow or in two years. Things with us will stay the same.” She sat back on her spot on the floor and picked up her wand from beside her. She tapped each bit of parchment, and Ron watched as all the notes she’d been taking vanished.
“What did you do that for?” he asked, shocked.
“I think we need to start from the beginning,” she said.
“Hermione —”
“No, this is our wedding, Ron, meaning that there’s no room for one of us wanting something more than the other. We both have to want it just the same. You don’t want the garden, so it goes.”
“And you don’t want March…”
She smiled at him apologetically. “So it goes.”
He nodded.
“We’ll work it out,” she assured him. “And it will be something we both want.” She waved her wand and all the parchment, quills, and pamphlets flew into a box. “I want to marry you, too, and I’m very excited about it all. But I’m not going to do it if you’re going to be unhappy about everything around you. That’s not fair.”
“So we’re back to having nothing at all?” Ron asked, not feeling overly comforted by her decision to start from scratch again. They’d been at nothing for too long.
Hermione reached forward to squeeze his hand. “We have each other,” she said. “And that’s good enough, isn’t it? The rest will come to us when we find it.”
Ron looked down at her hand covering his. It was so warm against his, so soft, and he really liked it when she touched him. Even if it was just holding his hand.
He looked at her again. He loved her, and that was why it was so difficult for him to accept that they still weren’t getting married in the foreseeable future.
But, in the scheme of things, he was pretty lucky. He was fortunate. And he could still love her every single day until they did finally get married. And every day after that, too.
He squeezed back and nodded. “It’s enough,” he assured her. “It’s more than enough.”
She kissed him again.
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greenroseunderglass · 3 years ago
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US Healthcare's A+ management and the evil it breeds:
That's it, really.
Okay, so there's a little old man. How I ended up being the only person on earth looking his way is a long story. He's 82, has cancer, and lived in very terrible living circumstances with his drug-addicted son who took from rather than gave to him.
In January, before I got Covid, he had an episode that landed him inpatient in the hospital. It was apparent to everyone -- including the social workers just assigned to him by two different counties -- that he wouldn't be coming home this time.
But he's no longer in crisis, so he's going to be released from the hospital whether he has anywhere to go or not. Yes, really. So he has to somehow get into a rehabilitation center.
There's a whole crazy thing about having to re-apply for Medicaid when going into hospice care. It takes at least a month. Yes, really.
So rehab centers take patients who it's obvious will be approved, knowing Medicaid will eventually pay for it. But someone still has to sign the patient in as a sponsor or they can't stay. Again, yes, really.
None of his 3 children were willing to take responsibility, unsurprisingly, so I signed all the paperwork, because it was deadline time and someone had to or they would not receive him.
Cue Medicaid, to do the re-approval, demanding things they already have but that can only be re-provided by little old man, who is not mentally sound, or his 3 kids, who are not interested in cooperating in any way.
So now it's March, and the rehab place has moved him to their regular nursing home and they have been paid no money.
So yes, all of the bad here is Medicaid's fault.
But the evil it breeds:
One of their financial people had hung up on me in the first month when I made it clear I wasn't going to be subsidizing the payments until Medicaid got straightened out. She tried to bully me into it, and when that categorically failed, she hung up.
Now, March, I recieve a very forcefully written bill demanding over $17,000, due on receipt.
I had to take a whole day to calm down and then I called the woman. She sounded smug. Then I told her I actually noticed where she had expertly altered the recipient from "Medicad" to "my name" with white out and careful print. (Her computer spit it out as due from Medicaid and she changed it.)
She went silent. I asked in a pleasant voice what the current status of the Medicaid was, and after she blustered for a while against the Very Pleasant Voice my Mama taught me, she eventually admitted she had a call scheduled with them for tomorrow.
But then she went back to blustering about how if I were I an honest person I wouldn't have signed the papers if I didn't intend to pay. I didn't have the heart to point out the altered bill again. I Very Pleasant Voiced her about Medicaid until she hung up on me again.
This is her job. They're a business trying to stay afloat. But this is the kind of thing you find everywhere, when dealing with Medicaid People providing services and desperate (Or just greedy) to get their compensation.
They pull all kinds of things to convince people they owe money out of their pockets that they know Medicaid should pay. Will pay. Eventually. This kind of bullying is horrible because a lot of people won't know better, and sometimes take drastic actions to be able to pay.
There was nothing okay about any step in my current situation, and every awfulness was forced to a crisis point by the U.S. healthcare system allowing a hospital to discharge without any recourse a terminally ill man of 82.
This guy didn't have a social safety net, and the rules were laid out to let him hit the ground. And the doctor I nearly back-handed and the nurse I wanted to throttle and the finance whoever at the hospital who politely told my rapidly-becoming-more-agitated self that patients with only supplemental Medicaid were discharged immediately on the doctor's sign off, and was I going to be the one picking him up??
Yeah, they're all caught in the machine with me and my new hang-up friend, and right now I want to scream so I have tumblred instead.
Tl;dr That's okay, I will almost certainly delete this tomorrow. Oh, and I will replace it with a happy thing, promise!
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happypeachwhispers · 4 years ago
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Fries Meet Guys: ALEX HØGH ANDERSEN - I DIDN'T THINK I WAS A PERSON WHO SHOULD TALK ABOUT ANXIETY - Part Two: Performing, Friendship
Thank you for your patience, here’s the long awaited part two! Are you crying, cause I’m crying. He’s such a profound human being.
Taglist: @ivarsrideordie @tgrrose @shannygoatgruff @youbloodymadgenius @boltslightning @alexein13 @ivaraddict @jupiter-sagittarius
PART ONE HERE
PARTS THREE TO EIGHT
I was all over the place, like I always am, after all, and I enjoyed that experience a lot, it filled something inside of me. I always knew I needed something else. I sure was a pain in the ass for many people, but then I met a whole group of people just like me and I learned what acceptance means. What was percieved as “different” in my daily life became normal and I felt at home. I was certainly the most determined one, the first time at the Eventyrteatret I was the only one of 50 kids in the room who didn't live in Copenhagen and had to take a long trip to get there. It was so crazy and chaotic. It was so strange that they sang and danced, and then they all danced in sync into a song they prepared for the annual performance. Well, back then I thought it was weird, but a month went by and it became completely normal for me. “I'm one of you”.
It was a new experience. You suddenly started singing and dancing in Copenhagen, how was that recieved back at home in Skælskør?
I think it took some time for the people I used to hang out with to understand that. I have to say I may remember feeling a little bit out of place. But it also has to be said, I've always been pretty comfortable in school, honestly. I have never been the one who has been so unpopular or I have struggled extra hard, I think. So it was, maybe, a little bit difficult. It might have been hard for me not to be accepted anymore because I was accepted before. Their point of view wasn't the big challenge for me, I actually think it was more an internal challenge with myself, I could feel there was a completely different world. I didn't know anything about it but I just made room for myself and I discovered there was a part of me I had no idea was there in the first place.
Was it difficult to maintain frendships in school when you were busy driving back and forth between Skælskør and Copenhagen?
It has actually not been that bad in primary school. But I have to say in high school, yes, it was. I have some friends from high school I talk to every now and then, but no, I didn't maintain any close friendship. I basically lived a double life throughout high school, where I was either at the Eventyrteatret or I was shooting the advent calendar in Aalborg. So I was pretty much not there, my social life was in Copenhagen. I had a girlfriend there too. I just didn't feel the need for a social life in Skælskør. And the free time I had was pretty much all absorbed by my profession.
I think we can all relate.
Yes but usually Danish kids in high school when they have free time they wanna party, that's what happens when you're part of a group of friends in high school.
We have had some other guests in the studio who have had very different experiences. How is your situation friendship-wise in school at this point?
I had some friends in high school, in my class and in other classes, absolutely. But I spent almost all the time with the group of friends in Copenhagen, so I was not influenced by my high school mates and their choices that much. I've felt a lil bit different because I've had a double life. I mostly had different group of friends in relation to the activity I shared with them. The group of friends I acted with, the group I went to college with and then a small group I talk to from time to time mostly individually.
Do you have both female and male friends?
Yes, I do. I would say I have more male friends tho. It's a mixed bunch of ordinary people, both women and men.
Is the way you communicate with your female friends different from the way you communicate with your male friends?
Definitely. You have to be more of a listener, I'm pretty good at listening, I think you have to adapt and communicate in a different way based on who is in front of you. See, with men you talk a certain way, that sort of street style if you will.  It comes natural because that's the way you talk to each other since the first day you met. But when you have in front of you people who are pretty cool and you have to impress them, you just have to do this and that, and that's what it's needed. But I would like to be able to be honest, always. And it's not hard at all, I’ve been really good at surrounding myself with some really, really pleasant people. I can afford to be myself at all times and they can be one hundred percent themselves with me.
What does it mean to be your authentic self for you?
It means that one can afford to have not only a good day but also a bad one. To be able to be stupid and not have to be slaughtered for it. I can be weird and crazy and say some stupid things without having to go half an hour afterwards and hit myself in the head. These are little things that are so insanely hard to find. I'm very lucky. I can pretty much talk about everything with them, we are very very honest with each other. In January, I was in Tenerife with three of my friends, and we brought along our stories in the luggage. I was suffering from anxiety and I had a sore stomach, it lasted four months, I was finally getting better. Another friend of mine, he's extreme. The love game hits him immensely. The other one suffers from depression. He generally has a hard time figuring out what he wants and what he doesn't existentially. And then we have number four, thank God, he doesn't have the same big problems. He holds us all together. It was a great experience, I remember us four sitting around the table and talking while eating pizza with shrimps. We sat for three or four hours talking non-stop about nothing but our problems that one could imagine they are extremely taboo for other groups.
Did sharing with each other give you something on an emotional level?
Oh yes, absolutely. We support each other by sharing and it's awesome to have people you trust so much to share such personal issues with. And so I think in 2019 in today's Denmark, that's what it means to be a man. To be able to comprehend people and understand. I see instead a lot of carelessness and stereotypes.
Didn't you encounter those qualities in other men, as an adult?
No, not at all. It's not about stereotypes. We have just as many problems as everyone else and we are extremely worried about it financially and emotionally. Anxiety. Social education, existential issues. It can be anything. All my friends, all the people I have in my life, they all have problems to a greater or lesser degree. Absolutely. But that's what it means to be human. And that's what it means to be a man. It means you are making mistakes, you are imperfect. You are a fool, and you must be allowed to be a fool, and you will also stand on your own. You're going to hurt other people because you're human. But you must also be forgiven, and you must also be able to forgive. You just need care and understanding.
Were you able to find the care and understanding you need?
Alex groans – Yes and no.
Do I have to change subject?
Alex laughs – No, it's ok. I am open to recieve care. It's just that I stress a lot about my mistakes, your head plays games with you and you just have to survive.
You can't control everything you can handle, what a funny paradox. You describe yourself as a person who likes to take up a lot of space and fill a lot. And then I also sense that when it comes to emotions, for example, to take a seat and ask for help, then it's a whole different thing.
Yes, that's true. I don't know, I'm fucking complicated and I don't know how to handle it at all. I believe in nature and creativity. I have always had a lot of willpower and then I had my mother showing me the right path, then you grow up and learn to control yourself. But I have a hard time talking about it. I told you, I don't know. Yes, I am a human being who goes through a lot and thinks such extremely deep thoughts, I put all that in my creativity, in my work. That helps me. Then I have moments when I'm completely wrapped in my own thoughts, but I think, generally, I'm a relaxed person. I do my very best just not to do all that thinking and that takes a lot of effort. I won't let those thoughts get under my skin because I know all too well that it's not good for me.
END PART TWO
Ask me in messages if you wanna be tagged // Feel free to like, comment and share, thank you!
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