#These boys being happy consumes my entire life I love--

[iichfilwypj]

loved | percy jackson

ღ percy jackson x daughter of ares! reader ღ warnings: hurt/comfort! (for the ones that are so so angry) ღ wc: 720 this is clearly about me guys

“Percy, you don’t understand!” 

Her shouts shattered the silence of the forest; the birds seemed to have fled the moment they arrived, and the forest nymphs hid within their trees, unwilling to get involved.

“You’re right!” His voice was edged with frustration and anger as he followed her, but instead of looking threatening, he looked almost pitiable. "I don’t!"

There was a raw, painful gleam in his eyes, one she chose to ignore -although it proved her point.

“Why can’t you talk to me? Tell me what is wrong, please.” He begged. “I love you.”

No. 

Not those words. 

They were precisely the ones she didn’t want to hear. 

The weight they pressed onto her chest was overwhelming, and she didn’t think she could bear it any longer. 

He was the sweetest and kindest boy in camp, effortlessly funny and charming with everyone –how could someone like him love someone like her?

“That’s the thing.” Her fists clenched tightly at her sides, crescent-shaped marks forming in her palms. Her lips pressed into a thin line as she stopped to turn toward him. “You can’t love me!” 

And he flinched. He fucking flinched at her.

But she didn’t care.

“I’m mean! I’m mean, and violent, and aggressive. I’m insecure, quiet, narcissistic. I have anger issues, stupids outbursts, I curse all the fucking the time! I’m not-” She took a deep breath, trying to quell the anger boiling inside her.

She was unlovable.

“Percy, I can’t make you happy. I don’t know how you expect this-” She gestured toward the space between them, which seemed to close with each tentative step he took. “-to work, I am not good for y-”

“Don’t you dare finish that sentence.” 

Now it was her turn to flinch as he stepped closer, his hands gripping her shoulders firmly. 

He was staring into her eyes as if he could see right through her, peeling back her defenses to uncover the truth she kept hidden –something she sensed he had been doing for far too long. 

“Don’t tell me what’s good for me or not.”

She could only stay silent.

What else could she do with that sight in front of her? A sight that wasn’t made for her, that felt so foreign for her.  

Those green eyes looked at her with a love she was sure she didn’t deserve, and those hands brushed against her skin as if they could see something good within her that she had buried.

“I know you, and I know how you feel. Like you don’t deserve the good things that happen to you, like you’re not good enough, like you’re a burden in everyone else’s life." One of his hands moved to cup her cheek. "Like you are a bad person.” 

She almost laughed; well, he was really laying bare her entire life with his words. 

“I don’t know who made you think all of that, but please, I’m begging you, don’t believe them.”

“That's the thing,” Percy leaned closer to her to show he was paying attention, but it was almost impossible to get any closer. “No one said anything; I just know it.”

As she closed her eyes, he observed her. Before him stood his favorite person in the world, unraveling before his eyes.

And he couldn’t stand to see it happen.

“You are the purest person in the whole world. From the first moment I saw you, I was wrapped around your finger. My mother is tired of hearing your name, my room is fed up with me sprawled out, holding your photo, and my mind is consumed by thoughts of you –there is no space for anything else. ” 

The words flowed from his lips as if they were the most natural thing in the world, and the effect they had on her was overwhelming.

She felt the boy’s hands on her face, gently wiping away the tears she didn't know were there –he knew how much she hated being seen while crying.

When she finally dared to open her eyes, something clicked inside her as she was met with the prettiest shade of green.

She had never felt this way in her life, so free, so safe.

And despite the fear swirling within her, she wanted to try –to try with him.

“You are not mean, you are not a bad person, you are not something that is wrong."

His hands were so, so soft on her cheeks that she could've died.

But she didn't; she felt more alive than ever.

"You live, you act and you feel so, so much. You don’t have to be perfect to be loved, you have to be you. That would be enough for me.” She smiled at him, momentarily at a loss for words.

In response, she leaned in closer, pressing a soft, salty kiss to his lips. 

And she felt like she deserved it, like it was meant to happen. And maybe it was.

She felt so, so loved.

hi!! this is how i feel daily lately and i am so scared of telling someone! but i hope you like it!

[alpaca-clouds]

Why the media CEOs will always learn the wrong lessons

Yesterday a friend and I talked about how the entire (AAA) game industrie looked at BG3 being as popular as it is and going: "Oh, we need to produce 100+ hour games, I guess! Those sell!" Which... obviously is not why it is popular. The game is not popular because it has 100+ hours of gameplay, but because it has engaging characters, that are well-acted and that work as good hooks for the players. Like, let's face it: The reason why I so far have sunken 160 hours into this game is, because I wanna spend time with these characters - and because I wanna give them their happy endings.

But the same has happened too, just a bit earlier this year, right? When Barbie broke the 1 billion and every Hollywood CEO went: "Oh, so the people want movies based on toy franchises! Got it!" To which the internet at large replied: "... How is that the lesson you learned from this?"

Well, let me explain to you, why this is the lesson they learn: It is because the CEOs and the boards of directors at large are not artists or even engaged with the medium they produce. They mostly are economists. And their dry little hearts do not understand stuff more complex than numbers and spread sheets.

That sounds evil, I know, but... It is sadly the truth. When they look at a successful movie/series/game/book/comic, they look at it as a product, not a piece of art or narrative. It is just a product that has very clear metrics.

To them Barbie is not a movie with interesting stylistic choices that stand out from the majority of high budget action blockbusters. It is a toy movie with mildly feminist themes.

Or Oppenheimer is not a movie to them with a strong visual language and good acting direction. No, it is a historical blockbuster.

And this is true for basically every form of media. I mean, books are actually a fairly good example. In my life I do remember the big book fads that happened. When Harry Potter was a success, there was at least a dozen other "magical school" book series being released. When Twilight was a big success there was suddenly an endless number of "teen girl falls in love with bad boy, who is [magical creature]" YA. When the Hunger Games was a success, there were hundreds of "YA dystopia" books. Meanwhile in adult reading, we had the big "next Game of Throne" fad.

Of course, the irony is, that within each of those fads there might have been one or two somewhat successful series - but never even one that came even close to whatever started the fad.

Or with movies, we have seen it, too. When Avengers broke the 1 billion (which up to this point only few movies did) the studios went: "Ooooooh, so we need shared universe film series" - and then all went to try and fail to create their own cinematic universe.

Because the people, who call the shots, are just immensely desinterested in the thing they are selling. They do not really care about the content. All they care about is having a supposedly easy avenue of selling it. Just as they do not care about the consumer. All they care about is that the consumer buys it. Why he buys it... Well, they do not care. They could not care less, in fact.

So, yeah, get ready for a 20 overproduced games with a bloated 100+ hours of empty gameplay, but without the engaging characters. And for like at least 15 more moves based on some toy franchise, that nobody actually cares about.

And then get ready for all the CEOs to do the surprised Pikachu face, when all of that ends up not financially successful.

Really, I read some interviews yesterday from some AAA-studio CEOs and their blatant shock and missing understanding on why BG3 works for so many people.

Because, yeah... capitalism does not appreciate art. Capitalism does not understand art. It only understands spread sheets.

[fallstaticexit]

Prev / Next / Beginning / Pillowfort

TW: Drug Use - Marijuana

Transcript under the cut

Jonathan & Malcolm: Grandma Queenie!

Queenie: Hello boys. I see your mother is taking yet another trip out of state.

Jonathan: Mommy is making a house for a movie star!

Queenie: Hmm. Well. You two must be hungry. Poor things. Come inside, I’ll have lunch prepared.

Malcolm: I want peanut butter and grape jam with no crust on them!

Queenie: Anything for my boys.

Nancy: We can leave now. Take me to the airport, Andrew.

Driver: Yes, Mrs. Landgraab.

Nancy Narrates: [If I spent too much time with my sons at home, I was losing focus on the business. If I was buried under my work, then I was neglecting them. No matter what I did, there was no pleasing her]

Nancy Narrates: [So I focused on my work and on my friendship with Judith. Each time I flew out to Del Sol Valley to check on the progress of The Ward Den, I’ve grown to know the global superstar. I’ve grown to love her too]

Nancy Narrates: [I was beginning to realize, wealth was one thing. Fame was something entirely different. For the first time in my life, people looked at me, not through me and I had Judy to thank for that]

Fan: Oh my god! I love your movies, Ms. Ward! We’re your biggest fans!

Judith: Oh, how cute. Who can I make this out to?

Fan: Oh, please Mrs. Landgraab, can I have your autograph?

Nancy: You want my autograph? Really?

Fan: Oh, yes please! I admire everything you do! God, I want to be you! A power woman. Ah! Meeting you feels like a dream!

Nancy: I- wow. I’d be happy to.

Judith: You were born to be a star, Nan.

Nancy Narrates: [And as promised, I gave her the house of her dreams, with the view of the entire world from her balcony]

-

[cork pop]

Judith: WOO! Time to pregame before the real party starts, Nan!

Nancy: [exhales] Hmm. I haven’t smoked pot since college.

Judith: It’s legal in DSV. I even got a prescription for it, for anxiety.

Nancy: If I wasn’t an east coast girl, I’d consider moving out here.

Judith: The Hills isn’t just for movie stars, you know. You’re making quite the name for yourself and there’s a calling for talented female architects. You could tap into the market like nothing.

Nancy: No, I’d never hear the end of it. My mother hates what I’m doing. The Landgraabs are supposed to be noble, humble philanthropist not celebrity icons.

Judith: Fuck her, respectfully. I divorced my parents and was emancipated at 16 so I could protect my assets and my goddamn sanity. I don’t regret it one bit. You have your own name to consider. That old bag can stuff it.

Nancy: Right.. I don’t want to ruin my high, darling. Let’s change the subject.

Judith: Alright. So tell me, friend. What else haven’t you done since college?

Nancy: [snorts] Not much. I was a very good girl.

Judith: Oh bullshit. There’s no cameras here, you don’t have to put on a show for me.

Nancy: I’m serious. I hit the books. Partied very little. Went to church every Sunday.

Judith: And apparently you smoked pot.

Nancy: [smirks] Apparently so.

Judith: You are such a little mystery to me.

Nancy: Maybe that’s a good thing.

Judith: Give me something. I tell you everything, I don’t want this to be one sided.

Nancy: [hums] I guess, when I was younger, I had- thoughts of sorts. I still do.

Judith: Thoughts? About?

Nancy: I guess...thoughts about women.

Judith: Oh, honey, don’t we all!

Judith: I think that’s normal. Women are passionate creatures! We love with our whole selves, with our mind, our body, our entire being. We crave likeness, at least I do. I feel incredibly sated in talking with you than with a man, even if he was a lover.

Nancy: I’m not talking about friendship, Judy.

Judith: No? Oh!

Judith: Ahhh, I see! You know, I do think women are very sexy. Not sure if I could commit to the whole eating pussy thing. I could receive it though. You?

Nancy: I think about it so much that I fear the desire for it will consume me.

Nancy: The wanting—the ache—is so deep inside of me that nothing can reach it. I used to be able to ignore it, but now it just sits there, tormenting me and gnawing at me from the inside. I’ve.. never said it out loud before until now.

Judith: [gasps softly] Oh my.

Nancy: [sniffs] You think that’s strange?

Judith: No, I think it’s hauntingly beautiful. Have you ever thought about fulfilling those desires?

Nancy: You mean... go sleep with a woman?

Judith: Why not?

Nancy: I’m married. I could never do something like that to my husband. Besides, it’s just silly, little thoughts. It means nothing.

Judith: It hardly means nothing, Nan. Listen, I love ya to pieces. Should you ever choose to do what you want and lose some control, I will love you then too.

-

Nancy Narrates: [Lose control? The very thing that I clung to in this life? I couldn’t fathom it. Who would I be if I gave into the things I truly wanted]

Nancy Narrates: [So, when it came to a lesson in losing control-]

Nancy Narrates: [life introduced me to Lily Feng]

Lily: Mind if I sit my drink here?

Nancy: No, not all.

Lily: You’ll have to forgive me, I am a bit nervous. It’s not everyday I get to meet my idol. I hear you designed The Ward Den, it’s marvelous.

Nancy: Thank you. A little out of my element, but I liked the challenge. I didn’t catch your name.

Lily: Lillian Feng. You can call me Lily, if you like.

Nancy: Are you from here?

Lily: Oh, no. I’m from Tomarang, originally. I live in San Myshuno. I’m new to the area, still getting my footing in my practice.

Nancy: My office is in San Myshuno. What do you do?

Lily: I’m an interior designer. I own and manage a small, modest firm. Popular in the east, but I’m hoping to make a name for myself here in the states.

Nancy: You own your own firm? Wow, that’s- amazing. I don’t meet many women in your position. Especially not in this field.

Lily: It certainly wasn’t easy. I have to claw my way to the top. When it’s a man’s game, you can’t play it nice and safe, although I’m sure you’re aware.

Nancy: Unfortunately so. Have you any prospects since moving to San Myshuno?

Lily: [tsks] It’s quite the competitive market. There appears to be a whole network I can’t seem to tap into. I have had my eyes on the Dreamer project.

Nancy: [blushes] Ah well, it’s likely because of me- well, my company. I’ve yet to acquire it. Anyway, it’s who you know that gets you through the door in this business. The Landgraab Co. tops the market.

Lily: What a shame. That would make you my biggest competition, wouldn’t it? And such a pretty threat too.

Nancy: Ah. Well. That’s...kind of you to say. Um.

Lily: Oh, my drink!

Nancy: I-I can grab it for you-

Lily: Don’t fuss, I’ll get it.

Nancy: [gasps]

Lily: Now, we were talking about the Dreamer Project. So, you’re familiar with it?

Nancy: Mhm..

Lily: I hear the City Council is looking to expand San Myshuno with an entirely new district. It will be the biggest project of the decade.

Nancy: Mhm. Y-yes.

Lily: Any chance that Mayor Dreamer made a inquiry with the Landgraab Company?

Nancy: I...I can’t say.

Lily: [chuckles] I’m only teasing. I know you’d never reveal your hand so easily. Besides, it should be a given. The project sounds perfect for the Landgraabs, being as though the Dreamers are likely interested in classical architecture.

Nancy: Actually, the project is more modern. High tech.

Lily: Huh. Is it now? Who would have thought?

Lily: It’s been a pleasure speaking with you. I’m happy to have met you.

Nancy: [breathlessly] I’m happy to have met you too. Are you leaving?

Lily: I have an early flight. The city never sleeps, and neither do I.

Lily: But I’m sure you’ll see me around.

[misojunnie]

COVET 𖣂

how far would you go for love?

your boyfriend jungwon has always been a kind soul. he refused to hurt a spider, much less a human, but when a new, younger, attractive admirer enters your life, something in him changes. as jealousy begins to consume him, and the competition between the two boys ensues, you watch your life turn upside down.

pairing: bf!jungwon vs. admirer!riki x fem!reader

genre: psychological thriller, horror, love triangle, established relationship au

warnings: violence, dark and disturbing behavior, substance use, murder, slow burn (only gets scary at the end) no mature themes! enha’s behavior and personalities are not a reflection of reality, it’s just a story

featuring: enhypen

playlist: runaway by kanye west, nowhere to run by stegosaurus rex, S.D.O.S by alex g, sour times - live version by portishead, violent youth by crystal castles, goth by sidewalks and skeletons

word count: 12.6k

taglist! @enhacolor @jwnghyuns @theothernads @adoredbyjay @firstclassjaylee @dollschan @enreveriee @surrik-i @jwonistic @laurradoesloveu @laylasbunbunny @tmtxtf

network tags: @kflixnet @kvanity-main @k-radio @enhypennetwork

see the trailer.

a/n: hello all! welcome to the first installment of fright night, my halloween series! I hope you enjoy ❤️

You had never considered yourself an overtly desirable person.

You spent the majority of your school years being ignored. You didn’t have many friends, and you spent most of your lunches eating alone. For a long time, school felt like torture.

Meeting Yang Jungwon felt like a breath of fresh air.

You met in your junior year. Neither of you were exactly popular, and you both seemed to have an innate ability to blend into the background. But upon meeting each other, you realized you didn’t have to hide yourself. Jungwon valued you for exactly who you were. And he valued you very, very much.

Before you knew it, you were spending every waking moment with him. He would sneak into your bedroom window after dark. You’d stay up until the sun rose, speaking in hushed whispers, talking about anything and everything. You quickly realized that he was the only person in the world who you could tell everything to. 

The last day of junior year, he kissed you under the willow tree in your front yard. You didn’t think you’d ever felt happier in your life. 

And suddenly, your life was all about Yang Jungwon.

You spent almost every day of summer by his side, doing everything imaginable. Picnics in the park, walks on the beach, night drives, your hair whipping in the cold nighttime wind as he sped down the highway, laughing. You had never been this happy before, and neither had he. Then, summer ended.

You didn’t think Jungwon had changed, but the people around you disagreed.

Jungwon grew a few inches over the summer. His clothes suddenly fit him awkwardly as he filled out in the shoulders and the arms, and his pants were now just a little too short. He dropped the rest of his baby fat, his cheekbones emerging from underneath his young skin. He cut his hair, and his long brown locks were suddenly gone, shaggy against his forehead. You had always thought Jungwon was beautiful, but suddenly, it seemed like the whole world thought the same thing.

You returned to senior year together, and the entire school began treating him like a different person. He received love notes in class, giggles and looks of desire as he walked down the hallways.

You were terrified that he would change upon receiving this newfound attention. But Jungwon never changed. He showed you off to his new friends, dripping praise. He took you to the parties he was suddenly invited to, and stayed by your side the entire night, even when beautiful girls approached him and asked him to dance. He told everyone he met that you were perfect, and nothing about you needed to change. And slowly, you began to believe it. At the same time, the world began to finally see you for who you were.

Jungwon was loyal. He knew he had found something special with you, and he never considered for a minute that he might abandon it. And despite rising in the ranks of high-school-high-society, he made sure you never felt left behind.

That was what you loved about him the most. He really never changed.

𖣂 𖣂 𖣂

Halloween was your favorite time of the year. After summer, of course. 

You loved the scary movies, the gaudy costumes, the foggy weather with golden leaves. Not to mention you were a horror connoisseur, which meant you knew exactly what movies to play to make Jungwon freak out. He wasn’t a big fan of scary things. 

But you loved Halloween, and Jungwon loved you, so he did too.

You sat in the back of your class, brainstorming your plans for the month. You were 19 now, Jungwon being a year older. You were in your sophomore year of college. It felt like an eternity ago that you spent those carefree summer days on the beach with the man you had now been dating for four years. 

You were a semester into the year already, and you generally got to know everyone in your class. But the door to the lecture hall swung open, and in walked a face you knew you had never seen before.

He was tall, very tall. It was the first thing you noticed; how he towered over the rest of the men. His face was striking, catching the attention of everyone in the room. He looked a little younger than yourself. It was as if he brought in an icy draft with him as he walked inside, and you rubbed your hands, suddenly a bit colder than before.

As he walked past your desk, he slowed. He looked at you briefly, before walking to the farthest seat in the class, setting down his bag and crossing his arms. He didn’t speak to anyone. You attempted to ignore him, taking out your notes. But something in your gut told you to turn around, and there he was. Staring at you. You shook it off, too afraid to turn around lest he was staring again.

But when you inevitably did, he didn’t break eye contact.

You were a bit shaken by your interaction with the mysterious boy.

He intrigued you. Since you started dating Jungwon, you viewed thinking about other men as a kind of unrepentable crime. You had always been the kind of person who saved their heart for only one person. The lecture hall was almost empty by now, and you packed your bag. Only after a moment did you notice you weren’t alone.

“Hey.” he said. You startled, turning around to meet the eyes of the very boy you had just been thinking about.

“Oh, hi.” you said, attempting to be casual.

“I’m Riki. What’s your name?” he asked curiously, and you indulged him.

“I’m y/n.” you responded, unsure of how to introduce yourself, so you settled on reaching out a friendly hand. He stared at it for a moment, before laughing, shaking your hand firmly.

“Nice to meet you, y/n.” Something about him was inexplicably charming. He had seemed cold and unapproachable when he first walked in, but you felt the warmth of his smile, heard the wind chimes of his soft laugh. “Today’s my first day here.”

“Ah, new transfer.” you said, chipper as you began walking down the stairs. He followed you, a step behind. “Welcome to Decelis University.”

“That’s the first greeting I’ve gotten.” he shoved his hands into his pockets. “Nice to know I’m welcome.” You felt bad for him somehow. He was intimidating, that was for sure. With his angular face and dark energy, you bet people had been misjudging him.

“Of course. Always nice to meet a new student.”

“So, tell me about yourself.” you raised a brow at his odd question, but complied.

By the time you responded, you were in the halls, still walking together.

“Well, I’m a sophomore. I moved from Seoul, and I’m a psychology major. But I like literature.” you said, satisfied with your answer, confused when he shook his head.

“No, not that. Something real.” You considered it. Did you really want to tell something real to a man you had just met? It felt traitorous somehow.

“I don’t know, I’d have to think about it.” you responded, shrugging, and he smiled abstractedly at your answer. “Why don’t you tell me something about you?”

“Well, I’m a freshman. I just moved here a couple months ago from Osaka,” he added, and you nodded curiously. “I’m double majoring in forensic science and neuroscience, with a minor in psychology. Oh, and I like to paint.”

“Oh, an overachiever.” you said with amusement, and he shrugged, hands still in his pockets. “I know your type.”

“Trust me, I don’t think you do.” he grinned, and you laughed. You didn’t realize how far you had been walking together, and suddenly you were in the courtyard, rapidly approaching your usual meeting spot with your boyfriend.

And he was there. He was smiling, excited to see you, but his expression dropped when he saw you walking with a man he had never seen before, a man with the face of an angel and the eyes of a devil.

“Shit, that’s my boyfriend.” you said, suddenly aware of Jungwon’s presence and hoping he didn’t get the wrong impression. Riki hummed, a light smile playing at the corner of his lips.

“Oh, your boyfriend.” he said, enunciating the last word in a way you didn’t like.

“See you tomorrow Riki.” you said quickly, leaving his side to speedily walk to Jungwon, not waiting for a response. “Sorry, have you been waiting long?” Jungwon didn’t answer, his eyes still trained on the boy standing a few yards away.

“Who’s that?” he asked, and you tried to discern the tone of his voice, unable to. “A new friend?” You scoffed, waving your hand dismissively.

“Hardly. He just transferred to my class today. I barely remember his name.” you responded hastily, and Jungwon raised a brow. He chose to ignore any begrudging thoughts, placing his hand on the small of your back with a smile.

As you both turned away, Jungwon looked over his shoulder, gazing back into the eyes of the man behind you. He was still staring.

As a pair, you strode away to your favorite lunch spot. Jungwon didn’t want to think about this new boy, who he was, or what his intentions were. He assumed this was a confused freshman who needed help navigating the new school, and flocked to the nearest friendly smile and set of kind eyes.

But he couldn’t shake the feeling that this boy was going to be a very big problem.

𖣂 𖣂 𖣂

Jungwon was upset.

He tried not to show it. He didn’t consider himself a jealous man, but he was. Underneath it all, he hated the idea of other men thinking about you the way he did.

Back in high school, a part of him regretted inviting you into his newfound popularity. You were beautiful. You were intelligent. You were funny. You had all the good qualities; the issue was that nobody but him could see them. By bringing you into the spotlight, suddenly everyone finally recognized you for what you were. And he quickly realized that he preferred when he was the only one that could see you.

But it made you confident, and certainly happier, which was all he cared about in the end. He let go of those resentments because he saw how much you loved being loved. You were a human being. He couldn’t be angry at that.

But this man, this new man, Jungwon didn’t trust him one bit. 

The truth was, Jungwon didn’t trust men at all. He thought men were loathsome, foul creatures. It was why he preferred spending his time with you. Every man he had ever met had some kind of twisted, sick problem on the inside. They just didn’t show it. But Jungwon saw it. He noticed the little things.

And his gut was telling him that this man was up to no good.

𖣂 𖣂 𖣂

You worked at a charming American diner near your campus. Even with you and Jungwon both contributing to rent, you were barely able to afford your little apartment, so you took almost every shift you could.

You were surprised to see Riki walk into your restaurant.

“Hey.” he greeted you with a nod of his head, seating himself at a booth in the corner. He didn’t seem surprised to see you at all. “You work here?”

“Uh, yeah,” you stumbled over your words. You were shocked that he had so easily managed to invade an intimate part of your life, but it was close to the college, and you shook it off, knowing he likely wanted a warm meal after a long night of classes. You glanced at your watch. You closed in twenty minutes. “What can I get for you?”

He rolled his shoulders, not bothering to look at the menu. “Oh, just get me whatever your favorite is.” You scrawled an order down on your notepad.

“So, how’d you end up in my restaurant?” you joked, and he shrugged casually.

“What can I say, I like American food.” you hummed, turning around to take his order to the kitchen. He followed you with his eyes, leaning back further in his seat.

You tucked the slip into the order wheel, hesitating  to go back as you observed the frantic kitchen. It wasn’t like you had anything against Riki, but he seemed like the type of guy you tried to stay away from in high school, and that combined with his apparent interest in you made you nervous. Not to mention the fact that your boyfriend probably wasn’t fond of seeing you together.

“Your food.” you said, eventually deciding to return to Riki’s table. He didn’t seem remotely interested in the food.

“Sit down with me.” he requested, and you raised a brow at him. “Come on, it’s not like you have anything better to do.” he chuckled, gesturing at the nearly empty diner. It was now twelve minutes until closing time, and he was right, you had nothing else to do. So you took a seat.

“Aren’t you gonna eat?” you asked after a moment, looking pointedly at his food, which he hadn’t touched. He smiled, picking up a fork and taking a bite.

“It’s good,” he said, chewing. “But I’m more interested in talking to you.”

“And why is that?” you questioned with amusement. He shrugged.

“You’re interesting.” he replied, and you scoffed. “What, you don’t believe me?”

“So that’s why you’ve been bothering me?” He put a hand over his heart.

“Ouch. That wounds me. I thought we were friends.” You rolled your eyes, but couldn’t contain a mild smile. He noticed, and smiled as well.

“Sure. We’re friends.” you said, resting your chin on your palm as you propped your arm up on the table. “So, you like American food?”

“Sure,” he said, not seeming very opinionated on the matter. “I was more drawn in by the ambiance. It’s a nice place.” He was right. It was a nice diner, with checkered floors, vintage movie posters, and intimate little booths. You were suddenly feeling overwhelmed by the romantic atmosphere, and swallowed dryly.

“Yeah, I agree. The ambience is kinda the whole appeal.”

“So you like nice restaurants.” His gaze was intense, and the way it drew you in made you uncomfortable. His charisma felt dangerously sharp, like a knife.

“That’s one way to say it.” you said. He grinned.

“So when can I take you out to one?” your amused expression dropped.

“That’s not funny.”

“It isn’t?” he said innocently, and you stood up, a hand lingering on the table before you glanced at your watch. Luckily your shift was over, and you had an excellent excuse to get out of this situation, and out from under his piercing eyes.

“My shift’s over. Goodnight, Riki.” you said firmly, untying your apron. He watched carefully as you strode quickly to the kitchen, ducking behind the metal doors.

You didn’t come back out, and after a moment of waiting, he left his money on the table and walked out the door, not bothering to finish his food.

𖣂 𖣂 𖣂

Riki had been thinking about you all day.

He wasn’t sure what it was that attracted him, but he found you interesting. What he liked the most was that you were genuine. He had a good eye for superficial people, and you weren’t one of them. You meant everything that came out of your mouth.

Riki had been a heartbreaker in high school, and he planned on being the same in college. Not a week went by where his breakups didn’t scandalize the school, and that was just how he liked it. Some people thought he was a womanizer; he disagreed. He thought that attraction was power, and people should use it to their advantage.

The truth was, Riki wasn’t fond of men. He thought they were liars. Maybe he and Jungwon had something in common in that regard. He liked that women were honest, open with their emotions and intentions. Men hid their motivations, hid their secrets, hid everything. Riki was an open book. He told every girl whose heart he’d broken that it would end up badly.  And when it inevitably went wrong, he said I told you so.

And because Riki didn’t like men, he wanted to take things from them. When he found a man he didn’t trust, a man he knew was rotten, he robbed him of his worth. His happiness. His girlfriend. And he was going to do it again here, he was determined.

He didn’t trust your boyfriend. He may seem perfect on paper, but Riki could tell there was something rotting beneath the surface. Everyone had something to hide. And he was going to expose whatever your boyfriend was hiding. 

It’s what he always did.

𖣂 𖣂 𖣂

Jungwon had been watching you.

In his heart, he knew it was wrong. He had never not trusted you before, and he wasn’t sure what was happening to him. He was uneasy, anxious, and upset. Yesterday, the two of you had lunch and he barely touched his food. That night, he didn’t sleep.

It wasn’t like guys hadn’t pursued you before. In the past four years, boys would hit on you at parties, in class, even on your dates. He’d tell them to scram, and then you’d laugh about it together afterward. It had never bothered him when other guys were interested in you; if anything, it made him more proud of himself for being with you. In fact, he wasn’t even certain that this particular man was interested in you at all.

That was until he saw you having dinner together.

You were sitting in the corner booth. Through the foggy glass, Jungwon could see his face, smiling. His eyes were crescent moons as he chuckled at something you said, neither of you eating, just speaking. He couldn’t tell if you were smiling back at him, and he wanted to know desperately.

When he saw you get up and go to the kitchen, he checked the time on his watch. Your shift was over, which meant he needed to get a move on, and he shoved his hands in his pockets before speeding in the direction of your shared apartment.

He felt horrible about what he had just done. He knew he was your boyfriend, but watching you without you knowing felt like a crime. He walked with a pit in his stomach, anxious to beat you home. He didn’t want you to know he had been acting strangely.

He trusted you. He trusted you with his entire heart, as he had been for the past four years, without regret.

But could he trust the people around you?

𖣂 𖣂 𖣂

Riki was back in your diner, as he had been every day for the past week. You had given up on lecturing him about righteousness; clearly he didn’t care. You just served him his food, and as usual, he asked you to sit down with him.

The scent of sweet violet, cedarwood, and a little cigarette smoke filled the air as you sat across from him, and you found it extremely pleasant.

“New cologne?’ you asked. You didn’t like that this was becoming routine for the two of you, but you engaged anyway.

“You noticed,” he said happily. “Yeah, it’s new. You like it?” You looked out the window, resting your chin on your hand as you attempted to ignore him.

“It’s nice.” you grumbled, and he smiled in satisfaction.

He was Jungwon’s complete opposite. He was demanding, flirty, and charming in an aggressive way. His voice was deep and smooth, unlike Jungwon’s soft lilt. He was sweet, but not kind. Jungwon was the kindest boy you had ever met.

He forked a bite of food for himself before chewing in satisfaction. “So, are you ready to answer?”

“Answer what?” you asked, bemused.

“I told you I wanted to hear something real about you.” you laughed, recalling your first conversation, and it seemed like an eternity ago.

“You go first.” you suggested, and to your surprise, he obliged.

“Well, that’s a tough question. I suppose something real about me is that I don’t believe in love.” You raised a brow incredulously.

“Why is that?”

“Not sure. I just never have.”

“Something must have happened to convince you love wasn’t real.” He considered telling you, but his brain resisted. He wasn’t ready to spill his guts to you. Sharing his secrets would mean opening himself up to be vulnerable, and Riki hated being vulnerable. You sensed his hesitation, saying; “You can tell me.”

And despite himself, he told you.

“My parents never really loved each other.” he said simply, and you frowned. “For as long as I can remember, they’ve been cold to each other. Sometimes they fight. Violently.” He sighed, and you felt pity welling up in your chest. “I guess I don’t believe in love because I don’t believe in marriage. I don’t think human beings are capable of loving each other forever.”

“I’m sorry, Riki.” you said, and he shook his head, looking away. “But you’re wrong.” His eyes drifted to yours, and he raised a brow. “Love exists. Deep down, everyone has love in their heart.”

“People spend their entire lives chasing for love, and they still don’t find it.”

“That’s because love is work. Everyone has the potential to find it one day. You just have to start looking.” Your words touched him. He had never considered that love was something he had to work for, not just a concept that was driven by fate.

“Agree to disagree.” he snorted, and you shrugged, taking a bite of his food.

“There’s love everywhere.”

Instead of running away at the end of your shift, this time you allowed him to walk you out. The two of you strode into the cold night, you shivering in your tee shirt.

“Are you cold?” he asked, and you shook your head, covering your waist with your arms in an attempt to warm up. Wordlessly, he pulled off his jacket and hung it over your shoulders. You glared at him, but accepted it. From the pocket of his jeans, he removed a pack of red Marlboros, slipping a cigarette out of the packet. “Smoke?” he asked, and you shook your head. He propped the cigarette in between his lips.

“You’re a bit young to smoke, aren’t you?” you asked, and he chuckled.

“Every teenager has a bit of fun. Even if they’re not supposed to.” you smiled.

He was a total cliche. The leather jacket wearing, cigarette smoking, flirtatious rebel that flirted as easily as he breathed. And somehow, despite hating that overplayed trope, you found it endearing when it was him.

“Hey, Riki?” you said, and he hummed, taking a drag from his cigarette. “I’m actually glad we became friends.”

“Friends?” he said, blowing smoke as his lips curled into a smile, leaning against the wall, a mere couple of feet away from you. His cheeks and nose were red from the cold, and he looked ethereal under the moonlight. “We’re not gonna be friends.”

You were about to respond when someone called your name.

Your eyes widened in fright as you turned to see Jungwon standed a few paces behind you, his breath visible in the fall climate. He looked upset, his pockets in his hands as his brows furrowed.

“Jungwon?” You quickly moved away from Riki. “What are you doing here?”

“My shift ended early, I thought I’d surprise you.” he was speaking to you, but his eyes weren’t on you; they were on Riki. He didn’t falter, taking another drag of his cigarette as he watched silently. “But I see you’re busy.”

“No, not at all.” you said nervously, taking Jungwon’s hand from inside of his pocket. “I just finished working. Let’s go home.” Jungwon didn’t respond, just turning around, your hand slipping out of his as he strode away from you.

“See you tomorrow.” Riki called after you when you didn’t bid him farewell, and you turned around to give him a glare, before dashing after your displeased boyfriend.

Riki was already making cracks in the foundation of your relationship. And that was exactly what he wanted.

𖣂 𖣂 𖣂

You were wearing his jacket.

Jungwon was certain of it. After two years of living together, he knew your closet inside out; and he had never seen this jacket. The sleeves were too long for you, and they protruded just past your fingers. Jungwon could kill a man. Specifically, that man. After a moment of walking in agonizing silence, he spoke up.

“Are you going to tell me what’s going on?” His cold tone chilled you to the core. You had never really seen Jungwon mad. Sure, you had your fair share of fights, every couple did, but they occurred strangely infrequently. “Who is that guy?”

“Just a classmate.”

“Why was he at your job?” You weren’t sure what degree of the truth you should tell him. You didn’t want him to think you were being unfaithful, that wasn’t it at all.

“He just likes the food, Jungwon.” That wasn’t technically a lie.

“I think he likes more than the food.” Jungwon was refusing to look at you. You had never seen him this put-out over something you did. You wondered if you had done something very wrong by being around Riki.

We’re not gonna be friends, you remembered his words. The smile on his face when he said them, how he sounded like he really meant it.

“Look, he’s just an underclassman. He’s new, just moved here. I’m pretty much his only friend.” Jungwon scoffed.

“I find that hard to believe.”

“I feel bad for him.”

“He likes you.”

“But I don’t like him.” You stopped walking and tugged on Jungwon’s sleeve, and for the first time he looked you in the eyes. They were dull, a stark contrast to the usual youthful shine of his eyes. “Jungwon. I only care about you.”

“That can change.”

“No, it can’t.” You pressed a warm hand to his cheek, and you saw his gaze soften. “I’ve loved you faithfully for four years. That’s not going to stop now.” He stayed silent for a moment, then sighed, removing your hand from his face. But he took your hand in his, which you took as a sign that everything would be okay. You looked into each other's eyes, cold air flushing your faces until it began to rain lightly.

“I’m not mad at you.” he said after a moment, his hair dampening from the rain, clinging to his forehead. 

You brushed it away from his face and resumed your walk in silence.

𖣂 𖣂 𖣂

You couldn’t be friends with Riki anymore.

You told this to Jungwon, who seemed more content than he had been in the past week. You, however, had a pit in your stomach.

You didn’t know why, but the thought that you would never see Riki again bothered you. His messy hair, proud smile, the scent of his smoky cologne. You weren’t certain why Riki had suddenly become important to you, but you knew it was wrong.

“So, your boyfriend told you you couldn’t see me anymore.” he said, holding his jacket in his hand. It still smelled like his cologne, and a bit like you, and he held it tightly between his fingers. He was frowning, and you realized this was the first time you had seen him without a smug expression on his face.

“No.” you replied. “I decided myself.” He sighed.

“That’s disappointing.”

“C’mon, Riki. You’re pursuing me. I have a boyfriend. It’s wrong.”

“That’s the great thing about life. It’s all about doing what feels right, even if it’s wrong.” he said elusively, and you frowned at him. “You should do what you want.”

“This is what I want.” You could smell his cologne everywhere, that stupid violet and cigarette smoke. It was distracting you from your thoughts.

“I don’t believe that.” You knew he was right, but his obstinance was pissing you off. You tucked a piece of hair behind your ear.

“I don’t care what you believe. It was nice being friends with you.” you readied yourself to leave, turning when he called after you.

“I told you,” he smiled for the first time during your conversation. “We were never going to be friends.”

It weighed heavy on your mind, but you had other things to worry about.

There was a party this weekend that you and Jungwon would be attending. Parties had never really been your thing, but a part of both of you missed the drunken fun of your time in high school, so when invited, you decided to go together.

It was being thrown by some boy in your year, a man named Jake who was infamous for his ragers, where people would fight to get in, and leave not remembering how they got there. Jungwon was friends with him, and assured you it’d be worth the while, which you hoped was true.

You pulled an old dress out of retirement, a lacy pink number that you hadn’t worn since Jungwon got it for your anniversary a year ago. There was something exciting about bringing it out of your closet, like a new start.

As you put on your earrings, facing the mirror, he circled your waist.

“You look beautiful.” he said, and you turned to kiss him, a chaste kiss that lingered on your lips. You looked back in the mirror, and you weren’t smiling.

Something about this situation felt extremely wrong, and you didn’t know why.

𖣂 𖣂 𖣂

Despite the hectic environment of the party, you actually felt at peace for the first time in the past two weeks. The music was beating in your ribs like a pounding heart, and smoke furled through the air as college students went to-and-fro. Jungwon and you did shots in the kitchen, hands intertwining as you poured vodka down your throat, a burning sensation on your tongue. After a couple more, you were ready to dance. 

Jungwon pulled you onto the makeshift dance floor by the hand, and the two of you swayed to the music together. You caught glimpses of faces you recognized, but in this moment, it was just you and him. Locking eyes, twirling and laughing as you erratically danced to the pounding beat of the music.

Eventually, Jungwon got dragged away by a friend of his named Jake, a classmate that he had grown quite close with. You were alone, but you didn’t mind.

You had never been the kind of person to be embarrassed to dance. You felt like yourself when you were dancing, and you didn’t care what company you had; you just enjoyed the feeling of being free underneath the spell of the music.

And then, the crowds shifted, and everything felt still.

There he was. Alone in the center of the floor, holding a bottle of beer in his hand, his free hand moving with the music as he danced rhythmically to the music. Girls tried to dance with him, but he deftly avoided them. The way he moved was entrancing; you had never seen him look so light and airy, as he swayed and rocked, not caring about the people around him. You should’ve known he would be there, you could smell his cologne from a mile away, and suddenly it flooded your senses.

He turned, and as he did, he caught sight of you. His mouth curled into a smile as he continued dancing, and you just watched.

“Come dance with me.” he said to you through the crowds, and though his voice was quiet, you swore it reverberated over the sound of the music. As if in a trance, you walked to him, weaving through hordes of people. Were you drunk, or was he more beautiful than usual?

“What are you doing here?” you asked the instant you reached him.

“Am I not allowed to be here?” he replied. He didn’t stop dancing as he spoke to you, and you felt odd standing still. But you couldn’t bring yourself to dance.

“They usually haze the freshmen.” He gestured to himself with a shrug.

“Well I’m fine, aren’t I?” You didn’t know what to say. A mere two days after swearing you wouldn’t speak to him again, you had already broken your promise to yourself, and you cursed yourself for it. “C’mon, you’re not having any fun. Dance.”

“I don’t want to dance with you.”

“Keep telling yourself that.” he said, but he paid no bother, continuing to dance on his own. You felt the eyes of the people around you as you spoke to him, some jealous, some curious, some judgemental. “Why do you care what people think?” You startled, wondering for a second if he was able to read your mind.

“I don’t.”

“If you didn’t, you’d be dancing with me right now.” He was right. That was the most frustrating thing about him; although he may be self-centered and smug, he was always right. Everything he said about you was as accurate as if he knew you for years.

So, to spite him, you danced.

𖣂 𖣂 𖣂

Jungwon had been watching you dance while he was talking to Jake. He liked Jake, he really did, but he found his attention drifting from his conversation to you, swaying carelessly to the beat with a smile on your face.

“Your girlfriend’s cute.” Jake said, gesturing to you with his cup, clearly able to tell that his companion was distracted.Jungwon sighed, pouring himself another hefty drink. He filled it to the brim with rum and orange juice. “Something wrong?”

“Yeah, well, she’s cute. That’s the problem.” Jungwon took a sip of his drink and wrinkled his nose at the harsh flavor. “Some guy from one of her classes has been all over her. Some younger dude.”

“The constant struggle of being someone’s boyfriend.” Jake said, clapping him on the back. Jungwon chuckled, taking another sip. “But try not to stress about it, man. You’ve been together for what, four years now?” Jungwon nodded in confirmation. “She’s only got her eyes on you. I wouldn’t worry.”

“Thanks, Jake.” Jungwon said, feeling a bit lighter, and a considerable amount woozier. He poured himself another drink despite himself, attempting to tune out the sound of the music. Suddenly, it was too loud, and everything was a little bit too much.

When he looked up, his heart had dropped to his stomach. You were no longer dancing, and it felt as if a spotlight was shining on the man in the center of the dance floor, his hair gloriously messy from the moving crowds, face red from dancing and alcohol. You were speaking, he could tell from the way your lips opened and closed.

Jungwon was seeing red. He felt as though the air was being choked out of him, and he struggled to take a deep breath to center himself. The alcohol felt like acid pumping through his veins as he stared at the two of you through the crowd, buzzing like a live wire. He was angry, but most of all, scared. If you had gone back so easily on your devotion, did that mean something? Did this man mean something to you?

“Jungwon?” Jake called his name but he barely heard it, crumpling his cup and throwing it into the trash as he stormed outside, slamming the door behind him.

Jungwon had been sitting outside on the stairs for nearly ten minutes, and he had managed to cool off.

He had never been so angry in his life. Jungwon wasn’t an angry person, he never had been. He had always been calm and collected, bottling up any rage or resentment he felt until it subsided. But that rage was brewing within him like an overflowing pot, and something about this man brought it out of him.

The smell of cigarette smoke flooded his senses, and he turned. Behind him was the last person he wanted to see, smoking a Marlboro, and Jungwon wondered how he didn’t hear him come outside. His face was still flushed from dancing, and his lips were tinged with the faintest trace of pink lipstick, smudged messily across his mouth.

Jungwon had stood up to go inside when Riki addressed him, saying;

“Hey.” Jungwon didn’t respond. “Looking for your girlfriend?”

“You really get under my skin.” Jungwon grumbled, and Riki smiled. He should handle this like a mature adult, he knew that. So he attempted to. “I would like it if you’d just leave me and y/n alone.”

“Come on, Jungwon. You know that’s not gonna happen.” He tossed the stub of his cigarette to the pavement, crushing it under the heel of his boot. Jungwon didn’t remember telling him his name at any point during their conversation.

“Why,” Jungwon started to speak, feeling like bile was rising in his throat. “Why, out of all girls, does it have to be my girlfriend?” Riki crossed his arms with a smile.

“Because I see her for what she is.” That tipped Jungwon over the edge. He could no longer have this conversation, he couldn’t handle it. He strode to the front door, pulling it open as he rushed into the crowds. “Oh, c’mon,” Riki’s voice haunted him as he followed him inside. “Let’s talk, man to man. I’ll pour you a drink.”

“Get away from me.” Jungwon poured himself another cup and chugged it. He was going to find you, and he was going to end this. He had to end it somehow.

“Let’s not be enemies. It’s just friendly competition.” Riki said.

“What does my girlfriend see in you?” The alcohol was speaking for him now, and he slammed his empty cup on the table. Riki gestured to the dance floor with a smile, and only then did Jungwon realize that the crowds were watching him in anticipation.

“Why don’t you ask her?”

You were watching Jungwon from the dance floor, and the crowds parted like the Red Sea. You were frozen in fear, shaking as you brought a hand up to your lip while Riki snickered. The sound of his laughter faded into the background as Jungwon noticed your smudged pink lipstick.

His fist was in connection with Riki’s face before he could even think about it.

He heard you scream in the background but paid no mind, the crowds chanting ‘fight!’ as the two men tussled. Riki was tall, but Jungwon was stronger. Riki’s mouth spurted blood as Jungwon landed a punch on his face with a sickening crack.

Jungwon’s hand found the counter somehow, and his hand latched onto the handle of a knife, unsheathing it without thinking. Only when he whipped it in Riki’s direction and the crowd gasped in unison did his head clear, and he dropped it, his opponent barely able to kick it away from him in his weakened state. 

He wanted to kill him. For a moment, he was truly prepared to kill him, and he almost did.

Jungwon was so shocked with himself that the younger boy was able to pry himself away from his grip, getting to his feet and wiping his mouth.

“Psychopath.” he spat blood, grabbing his jacket from the floor where it had been pulled off, swinging it over his shoulder as he removed another cigarette. But as he walked out the door, he smiled, an ugly smile of sharp teeth and blood.

He had found it. That rotten part of your boyfriend, the reason he didn’t trust him in the first place. He had exposed it, and you had seen the side of him that you didn’t know existed.

He had a feeling that Jungwon didn’t even know that side of himself.

𖣂 𖣂 𖣂

Everyone’s eyes were on Jungwon. You weren’t sure what to say as you stared wide-eyed at your boyfriend. You were terrified. The boy you were in love with had almost stabbed the life out of another person.

You attempted to rationalize it, desperately. You had just publicly cheated on him, and it must’ve been an uncharacteristic display of anger. You’d be angry too if you were him, maybe enough to kill. At least that’s what you told yourself.

“Let’s go.” you managed to say to him, and he brushed himself off, his head low as he roughly pushed through the crowds of people to get to the exit.

Fresh air felt like salvation as he heaved in as much into his lungs as he could. His head was beginning to clear, the adrenaline and rum wearing off as he stood facing the nearly empty streets, hands in his pockets.

“Jungwon,” you began, but he shook his head, refusing to look you in the eyes.

“I don’t want to talk to you right now.” he said hollowly, and you bit your tongue, tears beginning to well in your eyes. “Don’t cry, y/n. I can’t take it.”

“It just happened.” you said in a weak defense, and he shook his head again.

You felt hesitant sitting in the front seat with him, but he made no moves to stop you, just reversing the car roughly and pulling out into the street.

It was a silent ride. The kind of silence that made you wonder if the two of you would ever speak again, and you were suddenly struck with the fear that four years may be over in one night. Because of one moment, because of one person.

“Are we gonna be okay?” you asked, your voice barely a whisper. His eyes were firmly set on the road, refusing to look at you. He sighed, hands trembling on the wheel.

“I don’t know.”

𖣂 𖣂 𖣂

Jungwon hadn’t spoken to you for two days.

It was hard to avoid each other, considering you lived in the same apartment. But it was Sunday, and he hadn’t spoken a single word in your direction since you betrayed him two nights previous. And judging from how many times he’d ignored you despite pleas for his attention, he seemed to have no intention of stopping.

You didn’t know what to do, but you couldn’t stand the silence.

“Are you going to leave me?” you finally asked, choking down tears as you sat on the couch. Jungwon was in the kitchen, doing nothing but avoiding you.

“I don’t know.” Jungwon finally spoke, his voice a whisper. Tears began flowing freely from your eyes. “I really don’t know.”

“I know I can’t convince you of anything.” you surrendered, silent sobs escaping your mouth as you cried. “I won’t tell you to stay.”

“I love you, y/n.” Your heart warmed despite your sadness. “More than anything in this god forsaken world. I can’t bear being around you after what you did. But being without you sounds infinitely worse.”

“So what do we do?” He liked that you said ‘we’. It made him feel like you were a team despite what you had put him through. He set down the knife he was holding, his hands trembling as he looked at you. He could barely stand to see you cry.

“We wait.”

𖣂 𖣂 𖣂

It turns out that Riki was the kind of person who fell deeply. He hadn’t been in love his entire life; he hadn’t even believed it existed until a few weeks ago. To him, love was a myth, as imaginary as unicorns or pots of gold at the end of rainbows. It was a concept, not a reality. But that’s the thing about not believing in love; when it hits you, it hits hard. And Riki’s mind was racing with radical thoughts, and mostly images of you.

He had called you twelve times since the party, and you hadn’t picked up once. You didn’t show up to class on Monday. Your boss claimed you called out of work sick when he went to visit the diner.

You were avoiding him. And in his mind, that was the worst possibility. But he wasn’t concerned; he would find you. He would always find you.

He just had to find out where you lived. And to do that he had to find you, which was seeming to be difficult. So he’d do the next best thing.

He would find your boyfriend.

It was difficult to find out anything about Jungwon from the internet. He didn’t seem to have a strong social media presence, but after a bit of searching, he found an account with a small following that seemed to match him. From there, he deduced that Jungwon worked at a tech company with a man named Jay, whose profile indicated that the name of it was Enhypen SK. A quick search told him that its headquarters were located downtown. Riki got into his car.

He rolled a crick out of his neck. He had been waiting outside of the building for hours, watching men and women come in and out, in and out. He sat in the front seat of his car, chair reclined as he observed with unrelenting eyes. Finally, there he was.

Brown hair flying in the wind, a cup of coffee in his shaking hand, the contents spilling over the edge as he walked across the street, holding his jacket above his head to cover himself from the rain. Riki could almost laugh at the perfect businessman cliche.

The building wasn’t on a particularly crowded street. There were no cameras monitoring the traffic, as few cars drove down the road. Riki realized with growing delight that there was nobody in sight but him. And Jungwon.

He was on the curb. Riki put his car into drive. The light turned red. Riki peeled out of his parking spot. Jungwon was in the center of the crosswalk.

Riki accelerated.

𖣂 𖣂 𖣂

You dropped the phone when the hospital told you your boyfriend had been run over by a car. You didn’t have time to think, abandoning the meal you were making, the stove still burning as you snatched your keys off the table and ran out the door without a second’s hesitation.

He thankfully wasn’t dead. They didn’t catch who did it, and Jungwon wouldn’t tell them, if he knew. He had a concussion. Two of his ribs were mildly fractured. He was bleeding internally, but it luckily wasn’t fatal. He had burns along his leg from hot fuel, and a facial laceration from rolling over the shattered windshield, a cut running from the edge of his eyebrow to the apple of his cheek.

The doctors were shocked he was even alive. The perpetrator had hit him at 45 mph, and he rolled over the entire car before hitting the ground. He laid unconscious in the street for 20 minutes, and had to crawl across the street to call for help, refusing to die. Considering his situation, he was lucky; he should’ve been dead.

According to the nurses, he had fought to leave the hospital immediately. He had jumped out of bed the minute he gained consciousness, which shouldn’t have been possible in his state. Only when they demanded he stay did he ask them to call you, and even then, he tried to leave constantly, surprisingly mobile and alert despite being presumed dead.

The staff thought he was a monster.

You ran into his arms the first chance you got, despite the protest from the nurse caring for him. You cried into his chest as he held you, stroking your hair.

“I was afraid you died.” you sobbed, and he shushed you soothingly.

“I’m fine.”

“I’m sorry, Jungwon. You don’t deserve this.” He had the feeling you were talking about more than just the car accident. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” he said, staring at the wall as he held you more tightly. When you released him, you checked him for damage, holding his hand in yours.

Besides burns, bruises, and the cuts on his cheek, he seemed surprisingly fine. He was sitting upright, speaking clearly, seemingly fine. But he was staring blankly at you. You saw nothing in his eyes, not a shred of hope, relief, or fear. Nothing, just dull brown marbles in the sockets of his eyes before he turned away from you.

“Who did this?” you asked shakily, and he clenched his jaw.

“I don’t know.” he responded. You weren’t sure if he was telling the truth, maybe lying out of pride or embarrassment. But you weren’t going to ask, not when he was in this state. “You know, I realized something. When I got hit by that car.” You scooted closer to him, brushing the hair out of his face. It was matted with sweat to his forehead.

“What was it?” you asked gently when he didn’t continue.

“They were right. Your life does flash before your eyes when you almost die.” he said quietly. “And you know, all I saw was you. My entire life, in one blink of an eye. That’s when I realized,” He looked at you. “I can’t afford to lose you. Not to anything.”

“I’m not going anywhere.” you said, blinking away more tears.

“I know. I’m going to make sure of it.” You didn’t know how to respond, so you didn’t. “I forgive you. For everything you did. I don’t care about any of it.”

“You don’t have to say that.”

“I mean it. All that matters is that I have you.” His grip on your hand tightened, and you pursed your lips, pulling him into an embrace. He was cold as ice.

“I’m just happy I still have you with me.” you said hoarsely.

“I’m never going to let anything tear us apart. Never.”

𖣂 𖣂 𖣂

Jungwon knew exactly who hit him with that car.

He would recognize that face anywhere, even in a brief moment, in a mere second of terror before impact. A flash of those devilish eyes through the windshield. They were the eyes that haunted him, sleeping and waking. And he was determined to get revenge.

This man had changed him. He no longer recognized himself. He looked in the mirror and saw a man haunted by hatred, by anger, and by violence. In his many years of life, he had never despised someone enough to hurt them, and yet every part of him was itching to kill. This was a pest, one that Jungwon was sure to exterminate.

He wasn’t going to tell you anything, no, it would only stress you out. As a couple, you had been through enough recently, and he didn’t want anything else on your plate. You had enough to worry about, with him practically incapacitated.

You visited him every day in the hospital. You slept by his bedside, barely going to class or to your job, just holding his hand as nurses tended to him, doctors flitting in and out of his room. He only had three days left in the hospital until he was discharged. 

But he couldn’t wait.

You were dead asleep on the chair beside his bed, your eyes shifting underneath their lids. The room was empty. He ripped the IV out of his arm, getting to his feet.

Under any other circumstances, he shouldn’t have been able to walk. But Jungwon felt stronger than he ever had as he walked through the halls barefoot, his hospital gown fluttering in the wind like a ghost. He walked out of the hospital doors unnoticed, the concrete scraping against his bare feet as he started the walk home.

𖣂 𖣂 𖣂

Jungwon owned a gun. It was something he never shared with you; he knew you despised violence. But he was a paranoid person by nature and the idea of a home invader, serial killer, a stalker, frightened him enough to need protection, a Colt Mustang XSP stored securely under the bottom panel of his bedside table. He needed to protect you; it was his god given duty. Fate had brought you together, and he wasn’t going to let anyone hurt you.

He used whatever strength he had to remove the panel of wood, feeling around until his hand reached the hollow barrel of the gun.

Jungwon was a good shot. His father had taken him to a shooting range once a month from the ages of 10 to 18, god knows why. But he noticed something quickly about himself; he always hit the target.

One time, the supervisor at the range had told him he saw something dark in him. He had said Jungwon might not show it, but once in a while, when he was holding that gun, he could see it in his eyes. It wasn’t a good feeling, to hear that as a 16 year old. But now, he was beginning to consider the possibility.

Besides what you had told him, he knew virtually nothing about Riki. He didn’t know his dreams, his accomplishments, his past, not even his age. This didn’t bother Jungwon, in fact, it made him more relieved than anything. The less he knew, the better. It would make it all easier.

And now it was time to visit the little pest.

𖣂 𖣂 𖣂

Riki was disappointed. In you, for ignoring him. In himself, for not finishing the job. And mostly in Jungwon, for refusing to die. He hit him at 45 miles per hour, that should’ve killed him. When he visited the hospital under the guise that he was his cousin, they told him he was bleeding internally, that it might be fatal. And yet, he was alive. He knew it for a fact; Riki waited outside the hospital until you showed up. And you didn’t leave, you never left. Which meant Jungwon was still in there.

It seemed like Jungwon would need something more fatal, which was upsetting. It was the perfect set up; the street was empty, there were no cameras, no witnesses. Jungwon wouldn’t live to tell the tale. Riki prayed that Jungwon didn’t recognize him, if he did, he’d surely tell you. Then he’d really lose you for good.

He was parked outside the hospital for the third day in a row, just waiting to catch you alone. He hoped your boyfriend was in a coma, maybe unable to speak, maybe mentally damaged. He rolled his shoulders, tense with worry and from sitting in the leather seat for so long. The hood of his old silver car was bent from the impact of Jungwon’s body slamming against it, and his license plate was barely hanging on for dear life. He didn’t pay attention to it.

The only thing he cared about was ending him for good.

On the other side of the city, Jungwon had just walked into the housing office of his university. The door creaked as he forced it open, his shoes clicking on the tile floor. He knew a man who worked in the office, a friend of his who played secretary at the front desk. That was the nice thing about being a good person; you make connections everywhere you go.

“Sunghoon.” Jungwon said, and his voice was hollow. The man looked up from his keyboard, pushing his glasses up his forehead with a faint smile.

“Hey,” he said in greeting. “Haven’t seen you in a while.”

“I need a favor.” Sunghoon was immediately concerned with Jungwon’s appearance. He had changed from his gown into normal clothes, but the open cut on his face and the bags under his eyes told the story of what had happened to him. Bruises were littered across his right cheek, and a part of his hair was singed, just below the ear, barely noticeable. He stumbled on his left leg when he walked and he held his ribs tightly with one of his hands.

“Are you okay?” Sunghoon asked with concern.

“I got hit by a car.” he said, and Sunghoon frowned.

“Jesus.” “I need an address.” Sunghoon gestured for him to continue. He knew he wasn’t supposed to give away information like this, but Jungwon was trustworthy. Throughout their friendship, he had shown he was a kind man. He wouldn’t hurt a fly. “Freshman named Riki Nishimura.” Sunghoon’s fingers flew across his keyboard.

“Edge of town. Building code is 3405, apartment 2.” Sunghoon recited off the screen, his glasses back on his nose as he read.

“Thanks.” Jungwon said, turning on his heel.

“Don’t you want me to write it down for you?” Sunghoon called after him, and he waved him off, swinging the door open.

“I’ll remember it.”

And he did. Twenty minutes later, he was parked outside.

It was the kind of apartment that had separate units and entrances. The other three apartments seemed completely empty, and the neighborhood seemed practically deserted, if you could even call it a neighborhood. There were two houses down the road, one of which was boarded up, the other was for sale. Then a dead end, the street abruptly stopping in brick and barbed wire. It was good for Jungwon’s situation. It wasn’t like he wanted anyone to hear what he was about to do.

He got out of his car, hand deep in the recesses of his jacket. He rapped on the door, once, twice, thrice. Then he removed the gun from the waistline of his pants, cocking it in a fluid motion and shooting off the lock.

Metal scraps exploded across the steps of the apartment, and the doorknob hung loosely from its socket, the metal lock missing a keyhole, replaced with a burning hot cavity. Jungwon turned the doorknob, and the door swung open easily.

“House call,” he said, his voice echoing around the empty apartment. “Anyone home?” He peeked his head into the kitchen, the living room. Nobody. His free hand fingered the case of bullets in his jacket pocket. He brought the gun for intimidation only; he didn’t think Riki would be stupid enough to make him use it. But he had 17 rounds left in the magazine of his pistol, and he was planning to spend them all if necessary.

It didn’t seem like Riki was home. Jungwon cracked his neck, irritated. He had run out of the hospital on injured legs and a fractured rib, just to be disappointed. He wondered where Riki could possibly be, and hoped he wasn’t anywhere near you. 

He pulled his phone out of his pocket, keeping his gun by his side. He had 27 missed calls and 45 missed texts, and they were all from you. He tucked it away, trying to push the thought of you out of his head.

He was doing this for you. You’d understand that.

While he was there, he figured he might as well look around. After all, Riki didn’t seem to be home, and he had gone through the effort of blowing off his locks. He creeped up the stairs cautiously, careful to keep his gun ahead of him before he took a step. On the right, there was a bathroom, grimy in the way expected of a teenage boy. On the left was Riki’s room. His closet was the largest thing in the room, stacked to the brim with clothing. It seemed like Riki preferred designer brands over an expensive apartment, and Jungwon pocketed a silver watch sitting on his bedside table.

There was only one more room at the end of the hall. Its door stood slightly ajar, and he could see beams of sun hitting the chestnut floor through the slit. Jungwon walked cautiously towards it, the floorboards creaking under his weight as he pushed the door open.

His eyes widened, pupils dilated. He instinctively took a step back, his gun clattering to the floor as his gaze flitted from the ceiling to the floor, wall to wall. He recoiled from the room, as if it would infect him, shivering with fear. He hadn’t seen anything like this. Not from anyone.

Jungwon’s own eyes watched him from every corner of the room. Photos of himself lined the walls, sporadically pasted against the blue wallpaper. Some were photos he had taken of himself, some that you had taken, accessible through his socials. But the vast majority were photos he had never seen, taken from afar of him at the grocery store inspecting a peach, chatting with a classmate in class, working at his job, his face lit up by his computer on the second floor.

And in the center of the room was you. Your face was painted on a canvas, big enough to almost reach Jungwon’s height, painted intricately with the hand of someone who truly loved their subject. It was as if you were alive and breathing before him, and for a minute, he admired you despite himself. Scrawled at the bottom of the canvas were a mere five words;

I have to save her.

Jungwon was horrified. He felt sick to his stomach with the sudden urge to vomit, and he attempted to control himself, breathing shallowly as he bent to pick up his gun. He aimed it shakily, and it was the first time he trembled while holding a pistol in his hands. He fired ten rounds, each scarring the wall as they tore through the canvas.

Your face was a mess of torn paper and sizzling paint when he was done, and it pained him to see. Jungwon grit his teeth, tucking his gun back into the waistband of his pants as he turned around to exit this god forsaken house.

Now Riki really had to die.

𖣂 𖣂 𖣂

Riki arrived home, and the first thing he noticed was the ten bullets sitting underneath the window of his painting room. If he had walked past just a bit faster, if he wasn’t looking at the ground, he would’ve missed them. But he didn’t, and he bent down to pick them up, the casings barely still warm. When he looked up, there were ten matching holes in the wall. He was immediately on high alert.

When he removed his keys from his pocket, he quickly realized he didn’t need them. Shards of protruding metal, burnt black at the edges, became what once was the lock to his door. The wooden door was ajar, and he opened it as quietly as possible.

He slipped off his shoes at the door, his footsteps silent as he walked through his home. His living room and kitchen looked completely untouched. His nerves burning with fear, Riki reached for a knife, his trembling hands gripping the handle as the metal glinted in whatever dim daylight remained as the sun began to fall below the horizon.

The stairs moaned under his feet as he walked towards the room at the end of the hallway. It didn’t look like anyone had even entered his home; everything was the way he left it. But when he opened the door to that room, he felt like he could cry.

Ten bullet holes. Ten scarred, singed cavities in your gaping face, the canvas torn and burned until you were completely unrecognizable.

His art. The only thing he had been living for. It was destroyed, and he knew exactly who to blame. Tears ran down his face as he approached it, the knife forgotten in his hand while he caressed the mutilated canvas.

I have to save her. Those scrawled words remained untouched at the bottom of his creation, and he ran his hand over them. They rang true.

If Jungwon did this, and Riki knew he did, then he was dangerous. And that meant he had to save you before you ended up like the shredded painting he had so devoutly adored.

𖣂 𖣂 𖣂

Jungwon had fled the hospital without warning at 5:32 pm. It was 9:00 pm, and you hadn’t heard a word from your boyfriend

You were worried sick. He was hurt, too hurt to be wandering the streets, getting into fights, doing whatever he was doing. You checked his work, but they hadn’t caught sight of him since he left, on the day he was almost killed. None of his teachers had heard from him, nor had his friends. You must’ve called him a hundred times, and not once did he pick up. So, despite yourself, you did the only thing you could think of.

It’s not like you couldn’t guess who’d hit your boyfriend with their car. Jungwon’s unwillingness to tell you about the accident was an immediate red flag, not to mention his sudden switch in attitude. His workplace was in an isolated, corporate area where not many people drove, and it seemed too convenient to be an accident. Not many people had a vendetta against Jungwon, he was too kind to have enemies; except one.

He picked up on one ring, and the other side of the phone was quiet except for the gentle sound of his breathing.

“Riki,” you said, attempting to stabilize your trembling voice. “Let’s meet.”

Riki didn’t ask any questions. He agreed without hesitation, and a part of you almost felt bad. After all, what if he didn’t hit him? What if you were wrong?

But you couldn’t afford to doubt yourself, and you tucked a canister of pepper spray into your pocket before grabbing your keys and running downstairs. In case Jungwon was in trouble, you didn’t have any time to waste.

You were so distracted, you had even forgotten it was Halloween.

You had asked Riki to meet you across town. You knew there was a large construction lot a couple miles behind your school, where nobody ever visited, rarely even the construction workers, especially not at this hour. You needed to get him in a place where nobody would hear you. If he was willing to admit anything that had happened between him and Jungwon, he wouldn’t do it in front of an audience.

You could feel his presence before you saw him. When you heard his slow footsteps through the soft, unpaved ground, it felt like the world had gone black. Something in him had changed. You used to feel joy and love at the sound of his voice and the scent of his cologne, but now it made you uneasy. 

“Y/n?” he said, and you saw the dark silhouette morph into his fine features and unkempt hair as he stepped closer. He stopped a few paces away from you, and you attempted to smile.

Before you knew it, he had pulled you into his arms, and you were swimming in his leather jacket, his grip almost painful. The scent of violets and cigarettes drowned you. You felt like you could throw up.

“I’ve been so worried about you.” his voice trembled as he spoke, and you gradually wrapped your arms around him. “Where have you been?”

“The hospital.” you said, your voice a whisper. He released you, and the confused look in his eyes was almost enough to convince you he was innocent. “Jungwon…he got hit by a car.”

“Is he alright?”

“No. But we’ll be okay.” Riki didn’t like that you said ‘we’. It seemed you didn’t care if your boyfriend had almost killed him. It was like he didn’t matter to you.

“Why didn’t you call me back?” he asked in hushed tones.

“I didn’t know what to think.” You wiped away a tear, not even knowing you were crying. “After what happened that weekend-”

“He almost killed me.”

“It’s my fault. I shouldn’t have kissed you.” There was hurt in his eyes, and you didn’t recognize him. The smug, arrogant boy you had known was nowhere to be seen.

“How can you say that?” You shook your head, wiping away more tears. “I don’t care about him, y/n. We have something special.”

“Riki, I can’t.”

“Don’t I matter to you?” he implored, reaching for your hand, holding it tightly like he might not get the chance ever again. He wouldn’t.

“Of course you do. But Riki, I don’t love you.”

“That’s a lie!” he shouted, and the sudden switch in volume made you shudder in fear. “You do love me. You’re just afraid.”

“Of what, Riki? Of you? I’m not scared, I’m an adult, I know what I want. You’re just a confused boy who thinks he’s in love with a girl he can’t have.”

“That’s not true.” he said it so willfully, you almost believed him. “You don’t understand, you just don’t understand. Since I met you, you’re all I can think about. Everything I’ve done, I’ve done for you. I even-” He cut himself off. He froze, and the only sound was the cold wind as you two stared at each other.

“Even?” you whispered, and he set his jaw.

“I even tried to kill him.” 

You felt like your world was crashing down around you. You had imagined a million possibilities in your relationship with Riki. You had imagined kicking him to the curb, indulging in his affections until he got bored, you even imagined leaving Jungwon for him. But in none of your fantasies had you believed him capable of murder.

Your eyes widened in terror, lips trembling, and he could sense your fear.

“Don’t be scared.” he said, coming closer, and you took a step back. “I’m not a killer, y/n. I don’t want to hurt anyone.”

“But you tried to.” you said, and his eyes darkened. “You tried to kill my boyfriend. You’re not in love with me, Riki, someone who loved me wouldn’t try to do that. That’s not love, it’s obsession.”

“Don’t say that.”

“It’s true. You don’t know what you’re doing.” You grew closer to him, placing a warm hand against his cheek. “You have a life outside me. We’re young. Don’t waste your time chasing me and hurting people.”

“Don’t say that,” he repeated, his eyes red with suppressed tears. “I would do anything for you. I love you, I’ve never felt that way about anyone.” You attempted to pay attention to what he was saying, but a twig cracked in the background, drowned out by the sound of his words, but you were listening. You looked over his shoulder. “I can’t be away from you, y/n, I can’t take it.”

“Riki, I can’t be with you. Not now, not ever.”

“Is it because of Jungwon?” he asked, and you shook your head. “I don’t care who’s in my way. I’ll take care of it.”

A ghostly face appeared in the distance, just barely lit enough for you to recognize him. That scar on his face, those bright doe eyes turned dull, you knew that face anywhere. Riki continued to speak, and Jungwon put a silent finger over his mouth.

Something about this situation was wrong. You had this overwhelming sense of terror, and it had its claws around your lungs, draining you of all the breath and blood in your body. Every nerve and cell in your body was screaming, writhing restlessly in white hot pain. Jungwon stepped closer, and your shoulders shook fearfully.

“Riki. I don’t want you to hurt him.” you said, and Riki grabbed your face, his cold fingers gently gripping your chin.

“I don’t care.” he said, and his words cut you like a knife. “I’ll do whatever it takes. You belong with me.”

There was a barrel of a gun, and you felt a strangled scream rising in your throat when you saw that Jungwon was holding it. And the edge of it was directly pointed at the back of Riki’s head.

You tried to scream, you tried to warn him, but there was no time. You dropped to your knees as the blast rang through the empty air, a flash of white and red lighting up the air like fireworks as you covered your ears. An explosion of blood wet the ground, painted strokes of crimson hitting your face and shoes. A silent scream escaped your mouth as Riki’s lifeless body crumpled to the floor inches from where you sat, as terribly beautiful as ever, his wide and fear-stricken eyes immortalized as he stared at you. The last thing he loved before he died.

It was funny, seeing a human die. You thought that you would cry, wail, kick and scream as you brutally mourned the life of someone you had loved.  A life that ended in an instant, as easy as pulling a trigger. But you didn’t cry. You just sat there, helpless and silent, waves of grief, dread, anger, every emotion running through you as your eyes and mouth went dry with fear.

Jungwon was a new man. He stood above you, not even looking at the man he had just killed, only looking at you. His eyes seemed black in the night, unforgiving and unapologetic as he gripped the gun in his hand, the barrel covered in blood.

Pools of crimson blood soaked into the soft ground as Riki laid unmoving, the contents of his head spilled across the dirt. His mouth was open in a silent plea, one that nobody would hear, not even God.

Jungwon kneeled in front of you, and a single tear ran down his face as he desperately searched your eyes. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at him.

“Oh, God.” you said, your voice hollow and unrecognizable.

“I’m sorry.” he said, and for the first time in months, he sounded fully alive. His voice regained its fullness, no longer slouching and frowning, radiating the power he had lost. “I had to do it. You know I had to.” His hands were covered in blood. There were splatters across his face, and you couldn’t distinguish between the blood running from his own cuts and the blood of the man he had just killed. You felt an overwhelming urge to vomit, and you gagged as you tried to hold it back.

“Jungwon,” you said, voice breaking midway through as you began to cry salty tears. “God, Jungwon, oh my God.”

You had no fight left in you. You felt like a hollow shell as you sat there on the floor, the man whom you loved soaked in the blood of someone you had called a friend. Maybe more than that. You wished you could disappear, that everything would go away, that this would have never happened.

“I’m sorry.” he said, and he pulled you into an embrace. 

Despite feeling repulsed by his touch, you craved his skin and his love, so you let him hold you in his blood stained clothes, you let his soiled hands stroke your hair until it was wet with blood. 

“I told you,” he said, quietly. “I would never let anything tear us apart.”

You didn’t have the strength to respond, just sobbing until you couldn’t anymore, until the life and tears were drained out of you, until your heart felt like it would stop. Jungwon held you, his own heart beating as fast as lightning, the breath of life rushing through him. Riki didn’t move an inch, didn’t come back to life no matter how hard you cried. And Jungwon was delighted.

Maybe there was something dark in Jungwon. Or maybe he was sane, in a world where you have to do unspeakable things to protect what you love.

And as he held you, sobbing in the night air, your tears mingling with the blood on your face, he began to realize he was just a man. A sick man.

Just as bad as the rest of them.

𖣂 𖣂 𖣂

back to the masterlist.

[riordanness]

nightmare dressed like a daydream — [w.wonka]

wordcount: 1.1K

warnings: nightmares and reader has ptsd

requested: no (but feel free to <3)

As usual, the nightmares hit as soon as I close my eyes.

Memories of the life I used to live, the people who used to control my every waking minute. The ache of my bones, the pounding of my head, the intense loneliness that would try to consume me.

Will had been the light shining through the darkness of my life, but in my dreams, he never came back for me.

I was left stranded in Mrs Scrubbit’s chicken coop, or left to scrub and scrub the dirt from a pile of clothes that never ended.

I would often wake in a cold sweat, or screaming, or crying, or sometimes all of them at once. My hands would be clenched so tightly around the sheets that my knuckles would be white. My breathing would be heavy, and I’d be near impossible to calm down.

Except for when Willy Wonka was there. Because that boy was a miracle.

Just his touch, and a few gentle words would slow my heart rate. My breathing would calm, and I would focus on reality again.

Reality was being safe. It was being with Willy, helping him make his astounding chocolates. Reality was being happy every day. Being free everyday. Reality was falling in love with Willy Wonka.

Tonight, my dreams were much the same. I was small, and alone, and the darkness and freezing cold of the chicken coop were smothering me. The awful smell filled my nose, I was chilled to the bone, and I had almost given up.

But just at the moment when Willy was supposed to show up and rescue me, whisk me away to safety and to freedom, he didn’t come. He didn’t show up at all.

He left me there to be trapped forever.

I wake with a start, a strangled cry choking out of me. Tears are still fresh on my cheeks, and my chest heaves with sobs.

Barely a moment passes before my bedroom door opens. Willy rushes through, and drops to his knees on the floor beside my bed.

“Hey, hey,” he says quietly. “It’s okay. I’m here. You’re okay.”

He reaches for me, pulling me close to his chest. I cry into his shirt, fists clutching at the material.

“You… I was… alone,” I cry, utterly distraught. You’d think, after having the same nightmare every night for weeks now, that I’d be a little less sensitive to it, but it was so painful every time. Painful in a way I just couldn’t describe properly.

The thought of not having Willy in my life, this boy who now meant the entire world to me, this boy who had rescued me from my terrible life and set me free, that realisation of him leaving me there hurt like nothing else.

Waking up to realise it was just a dream, and that Willy would never do that, was so relieving I just cried even more.

But here, wrapped in his arms, I knew I was safe. I knew I didn’t need to worry about being alone anymore. Because I wasn’t. I had Willy Wonka by my side, and I probably always will.

“I would never leave you,” Willy whispers into my hair, as his fingers play with a strand of it.

I wonder if maybe he can read my thoughts. He always seems to know the exact right thing to say to make me feel better, to ease my worries and anxieties and to calm me right down.

“You never need to worry about being alone again.”

His words are like a sip of hot chocolate, warm and comforting, spreading that happy feeling all over me.

“Hey,” Willy says in a hushed voice. “Can you let me go for a second, sweetheart?”

I realise how tightly I’m clutching onto him, and I quickly let him go. “Sorry,” I say, brushing my tears away with the back of my hand. “I’m sorry.”

Willy shakes his head. “No you don’t need to be sorry. It’s not your fault you had to experience all of that. It’s perfectly natural to have nightmares about it.”

He gets to his feet. “I’m going to just grab my suitcase, and I’m going to make you something.”

I ease myself back onto my pillows, trying to hold onto the feeling of relaxation I feel while in Willy’s arms a little longer. “Okay.”

He disappears, and quickly returns with his case, which he sets on my desk. He sits down, rummages for a while, and soon enough, comes back over to me with two items. A mug, and a small piece of chocolate.

Willy sits gingerly on the edge of my bed. “Hot chocolate,” he says, handing me the mug, “for obvious reasons.”

“Hot chocolate is the world's best beverage invention,” I quote him, a small smile playing around my mouth.

Willy nods, and grins, and holds out his palm. On it lies a little circular chocolate, silvery blue in colour. Right in the middle is a little symbol of a… snake? No, two snakes, intertwined around a little stick.

A caduceus, I think. The ancient Greek symbol of medicine.

I pick up the chocolate, holding it carefully between my fingers. “What is it?”

Willy shrugs. “Try it and see.”

I pop it into my mouth, chewing slowly. Instantly, I feel a strange but delicious feeling crawling all over me,

I swallow, and the warm feeling only spreads further. Everything inside of me seems to relax, like melted chocolate and a smile has been injected into all my muscles and nerves.

“What is this?” I ask, looking up at him. For the first time since he came in, I really notice how tired he looks. His eyes are slightly glazed-over, his curls are unkempt and messily splayed across his forehead. His shirt is rumpled, but his smile is still as bright as it always is.

“It’s… uh, just something I made for you.” He looks away as he answers.

I laugh lightly. “Well, of course. But what is it?”

My best friend glances back at me. “Love,” he says, voice barely above a whisper. “It’s love.”

I have no idea why or how, but just his words fill me with more warmth and joy than any amount of chocolate ever could.

“I love you,” Willy says.

“I love you too,” I admit slowly, my eyes suddenly too shy to look at him. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

He smiles, and I’m sure it’s brighter than the sun itself. “I’m glad.” He leans forward and presses his mouth to mine, and I swear, sugary sweets couldn’t compare at all.

[fiapartridge]

hii 💌 with macklin celebrini and his celebrity crush! reader ?? teehee 🤭🤭

macklin celebrini x hughes!sister

summary: when a video on the bu hockey instagram blows up, you finally match the name to the most perfect face.

fia's notes: i love mack so much. he's my fave bu boy 💌 also! happy valentine's day! 💌⭐️🍓 OH! and i made this a hughes!sister because...i wanted to... enjoy!!! <3333

Who is your celebrity crush? the whiteboard read as the boys piled off the ice and down the hall towards the locker room. Monday questions were the guys’ favorite or least favorite day depending on which guy you were asking. 

Case bounded off the ice, catching the question in the corner of his eye. “Mm, Margot Robbie. One hundred percent,” he pointed at the camera, winking. 

Lane Hutson was next as he stumbled down the hall, smiling once he saw the board. He hummed, standing in front of the question as he thought deeply about his answer. “Can I have multiple answers? Yes? Okay, um, I like Meghan Fox sometimes, Alex Morgan is pretty cool, Livvy Dunne definitely, Taylor Swift is a favorite, maybe Ariana Grande but she’s been iffy lately—”

Pushing him off camera, Doug laughed as he read the board. “Jesus, Lane. How many crushes do you have?”

“Hey! There’s a lot of beautiful women out there,” he smiled at the camera as Doug made a gagging noise in the background.

“Aiden!” Doug called for the boy as Aiden laid his stick on the wall and threw his hands to his hips. 

“Huh?” he replied.

“Celebrity crush, go.”

Aiden chuckled before shaking his head and pointing to Macklin who was trailing behind him, oblivious to the question. “Why don't we ask Mack over here,” he beamed, grabbing his brother’s shoulders and throwing him in front of the camera. “Macky definitely has someone in mind, don’t you Mack?”

Macklin would have punched his brother square in the face if he hadn’t been standing directly in front of the camera. A light tinge of pink dusted the boy’s features as Aiden teased him for his sudden shyness.

“C’mon Mack, maybe she’ll see it!”

“Yeah, that’s what I’m afraid of,” Macklin laughed awkwardly as he raked his hand through his hair.

“Yeah, well, if you don’t say it, somebody else will.”

“Don’t you fucking dare,” he pointed as Aiden grinned at the camera.

“Macky’s in love with Y/N Hughes!” he shouted before Macklin shoved him off camera, the video cutting off as you gaped at your screen. 

The video was being sent to you by everyone you knew and every single person you didn’t know, too.  Your entire feed was flooded with the boy’s reddened cheeks and awkward smile. The first few times of watching it, you felt bad that the boy was getting blasted on social media for liking you, but after a couple more rounds of watching, you went down a Macklin Celebrini rabbit hole. Your search engine was consumed with his interviews and game highlights. You researched his stats, age, birthplace, which school he was currently attending, everything. 

And it didn’t hurt that he was hot and your age. I mean, you weren’t new to the hockey scene being that you grew up in a house full of stars: your dad was an assistant coach for the Boston Bruins, your mom played for the US National Team at the Women’s World Championship, your brother was the captain of the Canucks, and your remaining brothers were playing on the same team in the NHL, breaking records and setting new ones. Your entire life was hockey even though you had nothing to do with the sport in the slightest. No, you were more of a figure skater—an Olympic gold figure skater, to be exact. You were on the ice in a different, less violent way. But you still supported your family and all of their endeavors, and gratefully, they supported yours, too.

So Macklin wasn’t a total stranger. You had heard talks of the projected #1 first pick at the 2024 NHL draft, but you never cared enough to match the face to the name. It’s funny that this is how you found out���sitting on your living room couch surrounded by your protective older brothers who knew his stats like the back of their hand. And they all held a bit of resentment for him.

“He was on Team Canada,” Jack scoffed. “You should not be associating with him.”

“So was Mercer!” you retorted. “And he’s still one of your best friends!”

“He’s also my teammate, Y/N/N. I can’t really not like the guy.”

You rolled your eyes, turning to the oldest who sat on the other side of you. “Quinny?”

He shrugged. “He’s a good kid, good stats, from Vancouver so you already know he’s a Canucks fan,” he smirked. “Let it go, Jack.”

Jack turned towards Luke who sat on the coffee table directly in front of you as he held your laptop on his lap, rewatching the video. “Luke? Thoughts?”

Luke looked up, watching as the three of them stared right back at him. “He’s in college, so at least you know he’s getting an education.”

Jack chuckled. “You were in college and you still have the brain of a monkey.”

Luke stood up, throwing the laptop on the couch as you and Quinn gave each other knowing looks. “And if you went to college, you would know that monkeys are actually really smart!”

You rolled your eyes, huffing as they burned glares into each other’s souls. “Can you guys just shut up!” you shouted. “I’m going to DM him and then I am going to never ask for your guys’ opinions ever again,” you smiled, standing up from the couch and walking towards your bedroom.

“I still don’t like him!” Jack yelled from the living room.

You groaned, not even making a move to turn around and talk to him. You simply shouted from the stairs, “I don’t care!” 

You started a conversation with "Macklin Celebrini"!

You: Hii!

Macklin: You saw it, didn’t you?

You: What gave it away?

Macklin: The fact that you probably didn’t know I existed until that video came out.

You: Okayy, true. BUT I enjoyed it!

Macklin: Which part? The part where I was trying not to kill my brother, or the part that became a meme of my face getting so red everyone put tomatoes all over my Instagram comments?

You: Both? To be fair, I thought your blushing was cute.

Macklin: You’re kidding.

You: Not in the slightest. :) So, when are you in Michigan next? Heard there was this super fun lake house there in the summer.

Macklin: I can’t believe this is happening.

You: You would think you would be a bit more enthusiastic.

Macklin: Believe me, my face is crazier than in the video right now, and that’s saying something.

You: I believe it. And actually, that’s just all of my burner accounts commenting on your post.

Macklin: Knew something was suspicious.

You: Oh, definitely. Also…

Macklin: Bad news? I knew this was going too well.

You: No. Just thank your brother for me.

Macklin: For what?

You: For leading me to you.

Macklin: Oh, God, I’ve gone full-on tomato.

You: 🍅🍅🍅🍅🍅!

Macklin: IT WAS YOU

[sirenedeslily]

𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐌𝐄 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐀 𝐒𝐀𝐈𝐋𝐎𝐑 ‎𐦍 𝐜hristopher 𝐬turniolo

❤︎ ⸻ ❝ and when you get a taste, can you tell me, what’s my flavour? ❜ ꔛ 𓈒 *⊹˚

𝐢𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡 the siren, cursed by the sea and feared by the world, never imagined love could find her—until chris did. in his eyes, she wasn’t a creature of the depths but a soul worth saving. their love, tender and fleeting, was a defiance of fate, a brief escape from the doom that lingered. but when the sea came for her, leaving only her lifeless body on the shore, chris was left devastated. consumed by grief, he could not let her go, forever haunted by her memory, bound to the tragic final moment where love slipped through his fingers.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠, yet another angst, death, grief and loss, graphic descriptions, no happy ending, fluff if u squint extra hard, murder (not too descriptive), cannibalism, little use of religious imagery

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭, 1.4k !

the sea had always been your sanctuary — the only place where the noise in your head dulled, where the weight of your existence didn’t press so heavily on your chest. it whispered to you, sang lullabies that spoke of ancient things, terrible and beautiful. you had known it as a mother once, in those distant days before you ever met chris, back when you believed the power inside you was a curse. the world told you as much. sailors spoke in hushed voices, warning of the danger your kind carried — the siren’s voice, the venomous kiss, the fatal call.

but then he found you. a boy so out of place on the shore, like some wayward sailor who didn’t belong on the sand. his eyes didn’t hold fear when they met yours, though they should have. you were dangerous; you knew that, and yet something in the way he looked at you made you forget. you felt like something else entirely when he was near — a girl, a soul, a human being capable of being loved. and in those fleeting moments, he made you believe that you were more than what the sea had made you.

you had asked him once, in the quiet hours of the night when the stars hung low and the moon bathed your bodies in silver light, what it was that he saw in you. his answer had been simple, too simple for the enormity of what it meant.

“i see you,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “not what you think you are, not what they say you are — just you. and that’s enough.”

that was the first night he kissed you. it was gentle at first, hesitant, like he was testing the waters, unsure if you would pull away, unsure if the world would let him hold you like this. but you kissed him back with a hunger that startled even you, like you had been starving all your life and didn’t know it until you tasted his lips.

you felt alive for the first time in so long, as if his touch had ignited something deep within you. his hands were warm on your skin, and when he whispered your name, it felt like a prayer. you kissed him like he was your salvation, like you could drown in him and be saved all the same. kiss me like a sailor, you had begged him once, your voice rough, trembling with need, and he had laughed, pulling you close, promising you that he would never leave, that you were his anchor, that he would keep you tethered to the shore no matter what storms came.

but promises are fragile things, easily broken by the cruel hands of fate.

that last night together had been so perfect it felt like a dream. you had lain in his arms on the sand, the two of you wrapped in each other beneath the blanket of stars. you talked for hours, your words flowing like the tide, easy and full of a kind of hope you hadn’t known before. you whispered about a life far from the sea, away from the curse that hung over your head. he spoke of places you had never seen, of cities filled with people who didn’t fear sirens, of a world where you could walk hand in hand without anyone looking twice.

“we’ll run away,” he had said, his breath warm against your neck. “somewhere far from here. i’ll take you where the sea can’t reach us.”

and for the first time, you had let yourself believe him. you had let yourself dream of a future where you weren’t bound to the water, where you could be free to love him without fear, without the shadow of death looming over you. you had fallen asleep in his arms that night, lulled by the sound of his heartbeat, a rhythm steady and sure as the waves themselves.

but the sea does not forgive its children for leaving. it never does.

when chris left the next morning, the sun barely cresting the horizon, he had kissed you like he always did, with that quiet intensity that made you feel like you were the center of his universe. “i’ll be back before you know it,” he promised, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “don’t go anywhere without me.”

and then he was gone, his figure disappearing into the distance, swallowed by the morning mist. you sat by the shore, watching the waves lap at the sand, feeling that familiar pull in your chest, the one that reminded you that you didn’t belong here. not in this world, not with him. you were born of the sea, and no matter how much you wanted to escape it, it would always call you back.

you didn’t see the sailors coming. maybe you had let your guard down, lulled into a false sense of security by chris’s love. or maybe you had always known this was how it would end. either way, when their hands grabbed you, rough and unforgiving, you didn’t scream. you didn’t fight. you let them drag you into the water, their voices harsh in your ears, accusing you of crimes you had never committed, sins that had been written into your skin before you were even born.

they didn’t care who you were. to them, you were just a monster. a siren who lured men to their deaths, a creature who deserved nothing more than to be drowned in the very sea that had birthed you.

when they were done, they left you there, your body half-submerged in the water, broken and bloodied, the life slowly seeping out of you as the tide pulled you deeper into its embrace. you felt the sea take you back, the waves cradling you like a mother returning for her lost child, and in your final moments, you wondered if chris would come back in time to find you.

but you knew, even then, that it was too late.

when chris returned, the beach was eerily quiet. the sun had long since risen, but there was no warmth in the air, only the cold bite of the wind and the taste of salt on his lips. he called your name, his voice trembling with a fear he had never known before, a fear that gripped his chest and refused to let go.

and then he saw you.

your body, still and pale, the water lapping gently at your feet, your hair spread out like seaweed on the sand. he ran to you, his heart pounding in his chest, his breath coming in ragged gasps. he fell to his knees beside you, his hands shaking as he reached for you, pulling you into his arms, cradling your lifeless form against his chest.

“no, no, please…” his voice cracked, a sob tearing from his throat as he pressed his forehead against yours. “please, don’t leave me. don’t leave me.”

but you were already gone.

he held you for what felt like hours, his tears mixing with the saltwater that clung to your skin. he kissed your lips, your cheeks, your hands, desperate to feel some spark of life in you, some sign that you were still there, that you hadn’t been taken from him. but there was nothing. only the cold, empty shell of the girl he had loved.

and then, in the quiet of his grief, something broke inside him. a madness, a desperation, a need to hold on to you in any way he could. he kissed your shoulder, softly at first, his lips brushing over your skin as if he could still be gentle with you. but then the hunger came. the need to consume, to make you a part of him forever. he bit down, his teeth sinking into your flesh, the taste of you filling his mouth — salt, blood, the sea. you were his now. his, in a way that death could never take from him.

and as he pulled back, his breath ragged, his heart shattered, he knew that he would never be the same. the sea had claimed you, but he had claimed you, too. you would live inside him, in the darkest corners of his soul, in the places where light could never reach.

the tide rolled in, indifferent to the tragedy that had unfolded on its shores, and the sky darkened as the sun dipped below the horizon. but chris stayed there, holding you close, his lips stained with your blood, his heart heavy with the weight of a love that had been doomed from the start.

and in the distance, the sea whispered your name, a lullaby meant only for him.

𝒊𝒏 𝒎𝒆𝒎𝒐𝒓𝒚 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒔𝒆 𝒘𝒉𝒐 𝒄𝒉𝒐𝒔𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒆𝒂,

who loved like waves,

and left like tides,

forever pulled

by what they could not escape.

𝒢𝜚 💭 ࣪ ✸ 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 ∿ matt’s been suffering so bad in my fics it was about time chris got his share of trauma :3 hoping this wasn’t too sucky and similar to my last stuff, i feel like i’m missing creativity

❝ 𝟐𝟐𝟐 ❞ 𝑻𝑨𝑮𝑳𝑰𝑺𝑻, @carvedtits @et6rnalsun @wovenribbons @flouvela @eternaldecisions @elizabebabe

❝ 𝟑𝟑𝟑 ❞ 𝑻𝑨𝑮𝑳𝑰𝑺𝑻, @l34n @sturniolossss @lovingregulusblack @cl1tlover3000 @mattslolita @mattssgf @le4hsblog @brvtall @mattscoquette @chratts-left-ball @jetaimevous @angelesqve @starlace111 @fawnchives @starkeyszn @etherealval @slut4chriss @star-yawnznn @nickmillersn1gf

© sirenedeslily

[ultimateempath]

Alright, I've been seeing an unnecessary amount of negativity towards the direction Horikoshi & MHA took, particularly about the main league members deaths, so I'm gonna put my two cents in here: I'm not bothered by their deaths, I don't think it could've gone any other way. My reasoning is below the cut.

First and foremost, Horikoshi doesn't like happy endings. A bittersweet conclusion was the best we were gonna get from the beginning, we've known this for a while.

Even if they had survived, the league would never be able to live the kinds of lives they wanted. Like it or not, they committed many acts of murder and terrorism. Their life after the war more likely would've consisted of prison and/or possible execution. Even if they were rehabilitated and let out of prison, they'd still be exposed to public scrutiny and ridicule. Eri wouldn't be able to rewind them to children ro anything either, she wouldn't be able to do that much at her current skill level even if she still had her horn.

Dabi refused to listen to reason and his physical & mental states were rapidly deteriorating as he was entirely consumed by vengeful rage and despair, so it was unfortunately only a matter of time for him.

Toga willingly chose to risk her life doing something good for the woman she loved. She wanted to live the way she wanted and die the way she wanted, she wouldn't have been able to do either if she survived.

Kurogiri was already dead to begin with, he deserves to finally rest in peace after being stuck in such a torturous existence for so long. Mic & Aizawa have to grieve all over again and that sucks, but it was for the best.

Tomura loved the league more than anything and wasn't just going to walk away from them. Passing ofa to him was the only way to reach Tenko, even if it meant his body would crumble. You also have to remember that they were fighting afo again too! He wasn't keen on letting Tomura go, that finishing multi-punch was their only remaining option. The crying boy was saved and Tomura was finally at peace in the end, thats what matters.

Lastly, to the people who are upset about Izukus reaction and him not being very upset about being quirkless again and not saving Shigaraki: izuku is bottling up his emotions and claiming that he's fine, putting everyone else before himself. That's his whole thing, there was a whole arc addressing this exact issue. Plus after afo took over again, Izuku straight up said that he just wanted all the hurt to be over already.

[welivetodream]

✨ My BSD hot takes/unpopular opinions ✨:

1. Identifying BSD characters as Queer, is not problematic. STOP being so Heteronormative. Gay characters are not gonna kill you.

If I see another "BuT tHe ChArAcTeRs nEvEr SaId tHeY aRe GaY" I would bomb you 💣/j

2. Skk/SSKK/Fyolai/other popular ships, exist because people like it. If you don't ship them, don't engage with their content. Not all shippers act crazy and toxic. Stop blaming everything on shippers.

3. Atsushi/Kyouka is problematic, stop justifying it with "only 4 year age gap". Kyouka is a CHILD, ship her with Kenji if you want. Atsushi, like a normal 18 year old would never look at a highschool freshman and date her. Even if they date in the future, he knew her when she was younger and they had a sibling like dynamic. Lucy is a way better love interest to Atsushi (Don't know if this is an unpopular opinion tho, but I saw some people justifying it 😐😐😐)

4. DAZAI IS NOT EVIL. HE IS FAR FROM EVIL. He is, despite being super popular and the face of BSD, the most mischaracterized and villified character. Morally grey characters exist??!!!

5. Mori is a way worse person than Dazai ever was.

6. PM members get a free pass for any heinous crime they commit by being hot or babygirl-ified (still love them tho, we do not often discuss how bad their actions have been, you can like criminals and acknowledge they are criminals in fiction. I would add DoA to this too, but it's worse with the PM)

7. Akutagawa's abuse of Kyouka shouldn't be forgotten just because Dazai abused Akutagawa.

8. Mori emotionally manipulated and abused Dazai when he was a teen. Just because it wasn't physical, doesn't mean it was nothing.

9. Atsushi is NOT a soft boy, he is way bitter, salty and sarcastic than we give him credit

10. Poe is important to Ranpo and their friendship/relationship is wholesome as hell

11. Ranpo and Yosano's friendship is way better than them being in a relationship in the future

12. FukuFuku is better than Fukumori (imo!!!!)

13. Buying real authors work after watching BSD is actually a really good thing, since more Gen z kids (or other people) will read classics

14. There are layers to Atsushi and Akutagawa relationship/rivalry, and they have the MOST important relationship (not meaning romantic, just in general) in the entire canon.

15. Kunikida and Yosano could be a power couple

16. Fyodor is not a great villain (yet)

17. Nikolai CARRIES the DoA

18. Sigma shouldn't be in the ADA, he needs a happy home, family and some time to adjust to normal life

19. Q and Elise are both underused characters and could become a great dynamic

20. Ango deserves more love, the amount of pressure and stress he deals with is INSANE

21. It's OKAY if everyone joins the fandom for Dazai or skk (I did at first too!!)

22. Higuchi is annoying as hell. I do not get her hype, I like her but not as much as most people (just personal opinion, do not flame me 😭)

23. Everyone in The Guild is forgettable or boring (except Fitzgerald, Poe and Lucy. I like Louisa, but I forget her all the time)

24. Hetero ships are just not that great/interesting in BSD to me 🤷🏻‍♀️ (except maybe AtsuLucy or rare pairs) and female characters are not best utilised, I wish they play more major roles (can't wait for Agatha to arrive!!)

25. Some fan theories/arts get the story better than "canon" stuff at times. Fanon is NOT always the worst (sometimes enjoyable when the canon gets too dark or sad)

26. Toxic ships are okay in fiction as long as they are legal. Humans like toxic things, we consume it like junk food 💅🏻

(These are all personal opinions of mine and do not matter. Feel free to disagree. But, do not hate or be toxic!!!! 😇😇😇😇)

(PS: I compiled all these because of posts I have seen in, Reddit, Pinterest, Twitter and sometimes Tiktok. These aren't really abt you Tumblr folks. I meant to post this on reddit but did not have the courage or mental strength lol)

[crowwithacomputer]

Thoughts on Arcane S2 so far (devastated) and small predictions (even more devastated)

With Spoilers

On Jinx and Vi

Nothing better than discovering that your dad is actually not dead but a literal fucking beast and now you have to talk to your sister who turned emo/crazy to save him.

+ Silco and Vander were besties.

I'm happy to see the new relationship between these two after all. So much to apologise and so much to say, and also trying to save the country. I just hope they have small sister fights constantly.

On Caitlyn

I must admit I didn't see Cait coming because I thought she just turned evil but turns out people are complex beings and Cait is not Ambessa.

"Caitlyn is not distracted" that's such a hard line from Vi. She was so distracted by Ambessa but she's right back on track. I love seeing THE lesbians back. Now, they have a lot to talk about and mostly with Jinx, because that sister-in-law relationship is, well, it's definitely a relationship.

On Isha

Wow. I don't even know how to feel because WOW. She was one of the strongest characters I've seen. She loved these people, who by the way she (more or less) just met and she sacrificed her entire life for them and many more. THAT'S strong. I'm gonna miss her and I'm sure Jinx is NOT letting this slide.

On Jayce and Viktor

Jayce is so absolutely traumatised he went insane and I'm just hoping Viktor didn't actually die because I will start killing people, but I'm not mad at him. Mostly I want to see how he turns out. Of course he didn't want to kill him but he did what he thought was okay.

I think the final speech Viktor gave was absolutely amazing. Again, the complexity of the characters is something I had definitely never seen before (although I haven't consumed as much media as I would like to), and how the writers were able to build everything has me crying.

My prediction is that Jayne will be suffering quite a lot and think about Viktor nonstop. The thing is (coming from my own sadness) I think Viktor is not dead, but his body is. He transcended human nature and will be talking to Jayce, maybe through whatever the hammer has going on. My boy Jayce has it BAD.

I want at least a hug and Jayce bawling his eyes out. Ugly crying. Snot, tears and drool all over his face apologising to Viktor and not knowing what to do. And then they both smooch in the weird arcane realm they're in. *figurines clicking together sounds*

Now for real, I would love it if Viktor got into his mind when he sleeps of whatever and talks to him. Maybe he explains what he's seen and Jayce and him fight over what to do, because they have extremely different views on Hextech. That will be a good fight to see.

On Ekko and Mel

Oh god what is going on. For real what are they putting my girl and my boy through. Someone help these people.

Like, Jayce got out but where the fuck are Ekko and Heimendinger? And Mel is just lost in the weirdest realm ever, even worse than whatever Viktor has going on. All of this will be cleared out in the next episodes but damn. There's A LOT to clear out.

My thoughts

I must admit I didn't do a rewatch and that's leaving me with a few questions, but I'll probably watch it all over again and see the full show at its finest.

I will say that in the series that I watch I usually pick favourites. If they're not on screen I lose interest, but this show has me on a chokehold. Every one of these characters are so important and so interesting, and I think that's what makes a show good.

Beautiful writing, beautiful storytelling, beautiful art, beautiful pace. I just love it. As an amateur writer I love seeing this, it's such an inspiration to continue. It's so hard to watch knowing my favs will be going through hell but as a writer it's amazing to see how well the writers built that hell. So to conclude:

The girls are all against Ambessa, me and my besties overthrowing the government.

Jayce and Viktor having yet ANOTHER boyfriend fight, biblical edition.

Mel and Ekko are having the worst weed paranoia ever seen, now with magic.

The whole country is collapsing and these stupid bitches have to save it with the power of friendship and gayness, and I'm here for it.

Thank you for coming to my ted talk.

[mystique-maria]

"Was it Casual Now?" || Tom Riddle's Point of View

-------------------------------------------------------------

Tom met her when he was a young boy. He gazes into her eyes and it feels as if his entire world halted in that very moment. His once stone cold heart melted into a puddle and he finds himself yearning for her.

He refused to give into his feelings, no, it is nothing but a passing fancy. Nothing more than that, could it? These feelings make him feel weak and he hated it, he hated himself for falling for her but he can never hate her. Doesn't matter how he's awfully desperate to forget about her, he couldn't. The thought of forgetting her filled him with dread and guilt, he knows that he shouldn't love her but it's the only thing that's making him feel alive.

For the first time in his life, he feels as if he found another purpose. A light in his world full of suffocating darkness and death. She's the reason for all of it.

Then it all started.

Every night when he would spend his time in her embrace, he found solitude. He relishes in the sounds of her sweet moans as he pleasure her, the feeling of her smooth skin underneath his touch and her sweet scent draws him closer like a moth to a flame. He's living in bliss with her.

But it all came crashing down as he started losing himself in the madness of his obsession. The thought of becoming the most powerful and feared wizard has become harder to resist, tempting him closer to the dark side. And every single time that these thoughts plague his mind, she would always be there to save him.

She's his saving grace after all

And there she is, standing in front of him with tears falling down her cheeks continuously as she falls apart. Her words filled his mind as it replayed again and again. You're mine just as I'm yours.

The memory of when they swore an oath to each other that night is never too easy to forget, even if he wanted to erase it in his mind, he couldn't. He couldn't bear to forget about the connection that they shared, he doesn't want to forget about her.

His jaw clenched as he grew tense. He's a coward, he will never admit what he feels for her out loud. If he does, it will only make him weak and vulnerable, it will hold him back from the darkest desire that consumed him.

"You're just a toy to me, y/n." He said, his voice was cold and lacking any emotion. "I keep you around because you're convenient. You're easy to manipulate, and you're easy to throw away."

I love you. I truly do, my love. Forgive me. You mean so much to me. I'd burn the whole world for you and grovel at your feet to earn your forgiveness.

It feels as if he's being suffocated by his own feelings, it is all too much as a whirlwind of emotions consumed him at that very moment. He wanted to reach out to her, to hold her close in his arms, and to kiss her lips until all the darkness had left him alone.

He gripped at her chin tightly, narrowing his eyes at her as he continued to lie right at the face of the woman he loves. "You can't seriously believe I would ever have feelings for you. You're just a puppet to me. And a very gullible one at that."

He couldn't bear it for any longer. He distanced himself from her as he stormed out of the Astronomy Tower. His mind wouldn't stop plaguing him with the memories he has with her, everything that they had shared and all of that he cherished the most.

Tom knows that he will regret it, his cowardice will haunt him down for the rest of his life and he can never run away from it.

He regrets everything but her. His y/n, his beloved.

-------------------------------------------------------------

• Hiii!! I'm alive. I apologize for the late update, my life is quite a shit show at the moment and I'm trying to get it all together. I hope that you're all doing great, never lose hope and you're always loved. Happy reading!! <3

[yuugen-benni]

All the flowers

Theme: The boys present you with a bouquet, but it seems that there is a meaning behind the flowers

Characters: Atsushi, Kunikida, Akutagawa, Dazai, Poe, Chuuya

read this while listening to ''Soledad y el Mar'' by Natalia Lafourcade PLEASE

note: Fluff + angst

Atsushi:

Sunflower - Pure thoughts, worship

For someone who has suffered their whole life, the only desire is acceptance, love, being able to give and receive immaculate kisses. It is to rest in the arms of peace, of the angel of salvation , which for Atsushi is your arms.

Kunikida:

Malva - Consumed by love

A man with the seconds, the minutes, the hours, the days, the whole life planned with which he diligently fulfills. But suddenly something consumed him in a drastic way, disorganizing his entire mind, his entire body. That something is you.

Akutagawa:

Rain Lily - I love you back

Love for him was a silly thing, a symbol of weakness; he played tough and believed that no one would melt his heart of ice but then, you showed up. Even so, Akutagawa finds it difficult to say the extent of his love. So he prays to heaven that you understand with this flower.

Dazai:

Diphylleia - I will show my true self to you

Many people think that he would give you red roses that he gives to any woman. But no, for someone that Dazai really loves, that he really trusts, he wants to put his feelings and secrets in his hands and give them to you, hoping that at least you will stay.

Poe:

Primula Veris - you are my muse

A mystery writer always leaves meaning behind everything, doesn't he? Each word, each shy look, each gesture is a clue to unlock the mysteries of the heart of the dear poet in love with his muse

Chuuya:

Nemophila - you are my only one, happiness

Loyalty, the word that sums it up entirely. From the moment their bodies met he swore allegiance, kneeling down, placing his hat on his chest and placing you above all. ''Your most devotee partner"

Oda:

Lobularia marítima - immortal love

A quiet but kind and caring man. He gave you this flower the day before he died. It wasn't a coincidence… he knew what was going on… but his message was given

[peterparkouryo]

consuming devotion | ੈ♡˳

prompt: You can't help but love Peter, even if he doesn't reciprocate your feelings

warnings: heavy angst, heartbreak, sweet sweet unrequited love and one sided pining (obv)

word count: 1.5k

"I'm left wondering why the stars align, but your heart doesn't seem to find a place for mine."

a/n: it’s sorta unfinished but not rlly? also who’s excited for rebound four?? ;) (edited: it’s unfinished but there’s like a sort of part 2 that’s connected and i’m working on it)

ੈ♡˳

There's something so beautiful, yet so so painful about being in love. On one hand, you have these intense emotions that are so heartwarming, joyful, happiness and you're content with being around the person you love. On the other hand, your mind is a battleground of emotions. You're plagued by self-doubt, wondering if you're good enough, if you're worthy of their love. You question whether they truly care for you, or if you're just imaging things. You're torn between revealing your feelings, or risking heartbreak.

That's the thing, you have felt every emotion of being in love that there is. The truth is, it sucks.

The distance between you and Peter feels like an insurmountable chasm. Time seems to drag on, and you always, always ache for his presence.

You know there's a mutual understanding that he only sees you as a friend, he has said it on multiple occasions, and thankfully you weren't stupid enough to actually admit to being hopelessly in love with the boy.

You're not entirely sure if he is aware of your affection for him, and you surely doubt that he is, considering its, well, Peter.

What you do know, that you are positively sure of, is that you've probably loved Peter for the better half of your life. There were countless times that proved it too, such as the movie nights, the boy offering to help you with your dreadful homework, walking you home after school, and pretty much anything else that made a vulnerable warmth settle in your heart.

After that realization, you became hyper-aware of every little detail about Peter - his likes, his dislikes hobbies and interests. You hung onto every word he ever said, dissecting his actions for hidden meanings. You started craving his attention and validation, yet you feared the vulnerability the came to revealing your true feelings.

You always had a mix of emotions all at once, sadness, frustration, and sometimes even jealousy. You alway questioned yourself, wondering what could possibly be wrong with you, why you weren't enough for him. It's a battle between your heart and mind, trying to rationalize your while your heart keeps yearning for the unattainable.

Peter's heart was truly pure gold, always thinking of others before himself, helping out whenever he could, he was perfect. And no matter what he did, you still loved him.

Even if he continuously rejected your feelings. 

You both knew he wasn't exactly doing it on purpose, he's told you countless times that he only strictly saw you as a friend and nothing more, but like the stubborn person you were, you ignored those words and lived in this pathetic delusion that you'd actually have a chance with him.

Finding yourself caught in a constant cycle of hope and despair, wavering between moments of elation whenever he showed you kindness or affection, and moments of heart-wrenching despair when he seemed distant or unresponsive, which wasn't an uncommon thing. You always, despite already knowing where the boy stood, tried to decipher he feelings, to find hidden signs that he might just feel the same way, but the uncertainty gnaws at your sanity.

"Party, my place, tonight." A voice interrupts your quiet studying, the girl plopping her lunch tray down on the rectangular table quite harshly, the action gaining your morbid attention.

"I don't know, last time I went to one of your parties, I had to clean up after you." You point out, paying close attention to the way Liz's smiles slowly turns into a frown.

"Well, this party is different, and it's not like I made you do that." She argues, shaking her head with an eye roll.

Liz has been your best friend since you both could ride a bike. She's been your better half for as long as you can remember, knowing everything about you and vice versa. The transition from middle schoolers into high school was tough to say the least, puberty doing its job for her, and you....not so much. So it was not a shocking factor that the girl quickly became popular.

Yet, despite her social status, she always stuck to you like glue, and you couldn't be more thankful for that.

You give her a unsure glance, before turning back to your textbook.

"Peter'll be there."

You swear you thought you were subtle when your head practically snaps up at your friend's sentence, but given the way she snorts at your action, you highly doubt it and you clear your throat before you hurriedly look down at your textbook again.

"Okay." You shrug, picking up your pencil to vigorously erase a problem that was probably right or wrong, but you didn't care, your only goal was trying to pretend to seem nonchalant.

Truth be told, you do try to move on from Peter, but the love you feel is stubborn and persistent. It's a constant ache gnawing at your soul, a wound refusing to heal. 

Liz tilts her head at your nonchalant response, not buying into your tone.

"Okay?" She repeats.

"Okay." You confirm, placing the pencil on the table, out of your anxious grasp.

Liz was well in the know of your one-sided affection for Peter. Always encouraging you to talk to him, entertaining the very thought of you two ever being a couple. Oh, how respectful she was toward you when she knew at one point during your high school years Peter harboured feelings for her. You don't know exactly what made the boy stop liking her, but you were glad in the end.

"Well, alright." The girl says carefully, picking at her food.

"You don't have to come, but it'd be great if you did." She states with a sweet smile, and you don't find it in yourself to retort it and only nod.

Liz mumbles a quiet bye, standing up with her lunch tray in hand, most likely going to hang out with her other more sociable friends, letting you be left alone with your thoughts.

Unfortunately, those thoughts last for a good five seconds.

"Just the girl I was looking for." You recognize the voice almost immediately, straightening your position to look more presentable.

Peter was effortlessly gorgeous, it was unfair, truly. It was almost like he was purposely taunting you with the knowledge of knowing you can't have him because he doesn't want you to.

He sets his belongings in the empty seat next to him, unzipping his backpack, grabbing a small piece of paper with a pencil, zipping the bag back up before sliding over the gathered materials in your reach.

You look in-between him and the objects in confusion.

"I need you to write me a letter." Peter says, quickly noticing your bewilderment.

"For?"

"My birthday."

"Your birthday's not till August?"

"Well, not my birthday, MJ's." Peter corrects with a small chuckle.

You nod slowly, sliding the objects closer to you, avoiding Peter's intent gaze.

"Isn't her birthday in like, June?" You quiz, writing your 'to' and 'from' as Peter shrugs from across you.

"Yeah, but I'm planning a surprise party that'll at least take a month considering its Michelle, and I know how much you love writing letters." The boy explains and your eyes go wide as you look at him, raising an offended eyebrow.

Of course, it was certainly no secret that many of your love confessions were most of the time in the form of letters, those of which he rejected, continuously, and it was a heartbreaking experience every time. But having the boy use the very thing you couldn't help but show your expression with, against you, hurt worse than any rejection (you're lying, obviously).

"You're so funny, I almost laughed." You deadpan, slamming the pencil down on the table, startling Peter slightly as you push the pencil and paper back to him.

You quickly gather your things, turning to leave the lunch room, though it was nowhere near over, ignoring the calls of your name from Peter.

-

One-sided love is a tortuous experience. It's such a devastating thing knowing that your love is nowhere near as close to be reciprocated. Always filled with such despair. A constant battle between your heart and reality, between your dreams and the harsh truth.

After your "storm out", Peter was quick to text you with a million apologies, which to all of those you hesitantly ignored, and it was a no good feeling, probably the hardest thing you ever had to do.

It wasn't like he had never joked about your feelings towards him. You think its better that way, but sometimes he could go a little too far and you never understood why you allowed him to continue with the humour you never found yourself to laugh at. It was almost like a coping mechanism, coming to terms with the whole ordeal in a way that wouldn't be so heartbreaking.

Maybe the reason Peter only did joke about it was to help you get over him because he can only ever see you as a friend, and he wanted you to see it as well.

[measuredingold]

to be in love and to be loved

chapter four: all i need

authors note: ...guess who finally came out of retirement ! the spark ( sort of ) has come back and i was finally able to finish this chapter. a loooong time coming. i'm happy to finally get something out, but i'm a bit bummed by this chapter because i don't think it's my best - however, i'm already working on chapter five and i'm very happy with it so far so... get ready for that :) another chapter in naomi's pov, and it's a doozy so hopefully that makes up for the time away ! as always please enjoy and feedback is appreciated !

pairing: noah sebastian x ofc x nicholas ruffilo

masterlist / cross-posted on ao3

word count: 10.2k

cw: ~kissing~, angst, suggestive content, feelings definitely being realized, alcohol, 18+ (minors do not interact.)

Naomi tries to go on like nothing happened that night on FaceTime. She kept her feelings and whatever she realized tucked deeply inside of her, putting on her best smile when the boys came home. They ended up not getting matching tattoos this time around. Whenever Nicholas wasn’t tattooing, and when Noah wasn’t doing something for the band, all three of them spent as much time together as they could.

It slipped their minds, which she was grateful for, because it made her focus on other things and not… that. It was pretty easy to forget about for the most part, just being happy that they were home for the first time in months. It felt like they had been gone longer than three months, and the weight that had been on her shoulders was lifted the very moment they stepped foot into Richmond.

That feeling, the realization, didn’t come back until the first night alone in her apartment. Noah had left two weeks ago, and Nicholas had left earlier that morning, and she felt… empty. Like something was missing – someone was missing. Her feelings consumed her then, so much so that she felt like she couldn’t breathe, eyes prickling with tears because how the hell did she get herself into this?

She feels guilty, keeping this from them but also knowing that she can never say anything. How the hell do you tell your boyfriend that you’re in love with him and your guys’ best friend? This isn’t some fairytale where every ending is a happy one, this is the real world, and the real world always has its consequences.

A part of her is glad that the boys have been busy the last week and a half, their talks being limited to maybe an hour every few days, and texts sent at the most random times. It's given her time to sit with herself and think, and then eventually bring in reinforcements. Someone she's known longer than Noah and Nicholas, someone who she can trust without a second thought. 

"Jesus, Mimi." Analise breathes out, and Naomi can already see the crease in her forehead. She sighs.

"I know."

There's a silence that follows that makes her feel uneasy. Analise has always been able to tell her how it is, never having trouble voicing her opinions and calling Naomi out on her shit. This time though... She feels like she's finally stunned the other girl into silence for the first time in her life.

"Does anyone else know?" 

"Lis," Naomi sighs again. "The only other people I'd tell would be Noah and Nicky... and I obviously can't fucking do that."

Analise laughs. "If it weren't for me, you'd go to the grave with this, huh?"

"Oh, for fucking sure." She tries to laugh but it fails, and she lets out another deep, aggravated sigh. She brings her hands up to dig her heels into her eyes, a headache already beginning to start at the back of her head. "What the hell do I do, Lissy?"

A beat passes. "Do you want my honest opinion?"

"Well, I didn't invite you over just to bullshit me."

"Girl, I have never bullshitted you once throughout our entire friendship."

"Exactly, and that's why I go to you for these types of things. You always tell me how it is." 

"And I always will.” Analise says matter of factly before her words are followed by a sigh. Naomi can see that fucking crease again. "Anyone under the fucking sun can see how much love you have for Noah. I don't think I've ever seen you love someone so hard before."

"I don't think I've ever loved someone like I do him." Naomi replies easily, without much thought. She knew it was true.

"Right," Analise starts before narrowing her gaze at Mimi, her full lips tugging down ever so slightly. "However, I'm not dumb."

Mimi raises a brow. "Huh?"

"Listen," Analise leans back against the couch, holding her hands up almost defensively. "I'm not sure if anything ever happened between you and Nick before you got with Noah, but I wouldn't be surprised. Your chemistry with each other is insane." Her gaze softens now. "And I can tell you care about him a lot, more than a friend should. I think you always have."

Naomi's cheeks flush at Analise's words and she bites down on her bottom lip, chewing on it nervously. Was it so obvious? She didn't think so, but Analise has never lied to her. Not once. 

"...What if I told you something almost happened?" 

"I'd call you a bitch - lovingly - for not telling me sooner," Analise says without hesitation. "And then I'd ask for you to elaborate on what you mean by almost."

"Almost as in," She drags her words, pulling her legs up onto the couch, "When he tattooed me for the first time, we were talking, and got pretty close. I wanted to kiss him and... and I think he wanted to kiss me, but then we didn't. He mentioned Noah and it kinda... ruined the moment."

Analise stares at her for a beat longer than needed before speaking up, "Did it ruin the moment because you knew that you liked Noah at the time, or did you think there was something going on between Noah and Nick?"

Naomi's eyes widen and Analise waves her off, scoffing softly.

"Girl. Don't give me that look. You know it's true." The girl sighs, as if this is the most taxing thing she's ever had to deal with and leans forward. "I've seen the way Nicholas looks at you… and the way he looks at Noah.” Analise gives her a smile, full lips stretched into a smile. "He's got it bad for the both of you."

"You're just making that up."

"I'm not making shit up. You," Analise points a finger at her and Mimi scoffs, turning her head the other way, "are just in denial at the fact Nicholas is in love with the both of you.”

"No, I'm not."

"Okay. Look me in the eyes and tell me you had no fucking idea Nicholas looks at both you and Noah like you two hung up the fucking stars."

Naomi's mouth opens to argue because that's just ridiculous, he doesn't do that, but nothing comes out. Not even a noise. Her brain then starts to finally catch up and thoughts of Nicholas invade her mind. Her throat tightens, skin heating up and feeling almost clammy, as the realization finally dawns on her. It's as if she's finally waking up after years of sleep, like she's opened her eyes and finally saw what was right in front of her the entire fucking time. 

Nicholas wasn't just in love with her, or with Noah... it was the both of them. 

"Oh my god." Was all she was able to get out, brown eyes widening as she finally looked back at Analise. 

Her friend's face softened, lips pressing together to try and suppress her own frown. "It's so obvious, Mimi."

"Yeah, I fucking know that now." She groans, leaning her elbows against the tops of her thighs, hands rubbing along her face. "Oh my god."

The tightening in her throat doesn't let up and there's a burning feeling behind her eyes, the tears threatening to push through. Her heart pounds against her chest, ringing through her ears. How did she not notice? 

The way he reacted to them being together, the way he's been acting ever since... It all makes fucking sense. She - they - are the reason behind Nicholas' continued sadness, the reason why he's been pulling away these last few months. The reason why he needed to suck it up and get over it. Her stomach turns in a way she fucking hates, the nausea coming back as it settles somewhere deep inside the pit of her stomach. 

How did she not fucking notice?

With tears stinging at her eyes, she finally looks up to find Analise staring at her, expression pained.

"What do I do?" She breathes out. 

"Well... what do you think you should do?" 

"I..." With a frustrated sigh she slumps her body back against the couch, hands coming up to rub at her face as the first tears fell. "I don't know."

She probably sounded pitiful, because that's exactly how she felt. What could she even do? It's not like she could call up Nicholas right now and tell him how she felt, how she knew, because there's a whole other person involved. She whines pathetically at the thought of her boyfriend. Yeah, maybe she and Nicholas had feelings for one another and Noah, but what about him?

She feels the couch beside her dip and her stomach turns at the thought of Noah. How would he feel about all of this? There's no telling how he'd react, finding out she was in love with their best friend and him, and said best friend was also in love with her and him. Does he even feel the same?

Her head pounds, a headache coming on immediately, and she curls herself into her friend's arms as she finally lets more tears fall.

"You need to tell them."

Analise's voice broke her out of her thoughts, and she shudders, head shaking against the girl's shoulder.

"I can't."

"Yes, you can." Analise pulls her back, hands coming up to cup her face to force Naomi to stare at her. "You need to tell them, Mimi."

She knows she should. She fucking knows that she should tell both Noah and Nicholas right now that she loves them so much that it makes her sick, makes her stomach twist and turn at the thought of ever being without either of them. A life without the two of them is a life she never wants to endure and... and she thinks that is what's stopping her. She would never be able to live with herself if this is what breaks them, if this is what pushes Noah from them.

She shakes her head in Analise's hold, "No. I can't."

Analise's hands drop from her face, lips pursed. "You're sostubborn sometimes, I can't stand it."

"You don't understand." She wipes at her face to rid herself of the tears that seem to still fall, tucking a few loose curls behind her ears. "This isn't me being stubborn, this is... I can't lose them. Sure, what if me and Nicholas feel the same? What about Noah? There's no telling how he even feels, if he'd even be okay with this." Naomi doesn't miss the way her voice wavers and she feels her bottom lip tremble, a fresh set of tears falling. "Lis, you know I can't fucking lose him."

"I know. I know, okay?" Analise gathers her in her arms again and she falls into it gratefully, face pressing against her shoulder. "I've never dealt with something like this, so I'm sure it's scary, right? The not knowing." Naomi feels her friend smooth down her hair, hugging her closer as she sighed out, "But I still think you need to tell them eventually. They deserve to know - especially Nick. I can't even imagine how he feels."

That makes Naomi's heart break in a whole new way, the realization of Nicholas having to deal with this on his own. Having to watch the two people he loves be together right in front of him and having to keep the way he feels hidden to keep things as normal as possible... because she knows he'd rather hurt himself by keeping them close than losing them for good. She chokes out a sob and Analise holds her closer, hands rubbing up and down her back to soothe her. 

"I can't." She rasps out after a few minutes, calming down slightly but the tears still burning her eyes. She pulls back to look at Analise, head shaking. "At least not yet. I just - I can't."

Analise stares at her, hard, lips pressing together before sighing in defeat. A weight on Naomi's shoulders lifts, knowing that her friend won't press her anymore on this. She pulls away, hands sliding from Naomi's back to her arms, rubbing them soothingly.

"God, you’re so... fucking stubborn and really annoying sometimes," Analise grumbles, but there's no malice in her voice, "but I'm also going to be here for you every step of the way. Even if I'm not happy about it."

For some reason this makes Naomi laugh, a bit wet and rough, but she feels more at ease. Her shoulders finally relax.

"Thank you." She mumbles, reaching up to wipe at her face, and she sucks in a deep breath. "I just need to think about it, okay? I know it's not fair to Nicky, I know, but I can't..." Her voice trails off, that same heavy weight against her chest returning. "I don't know how to fucking do it, so I need to weigh out my options, you know?"

"I know." Analise's voice is so soft, so gentle, and Naomi has to try and will away the remaining tears that threaten to fall. "I'm here, okay? I'm on your side. Don't forget that."

Naomi doesn't respond, instead gives her friend a tight smile before leaning back into her embrace. She sucks in another deep breath and buries her face against Analise's shoulder, letting her eyes slip shut.

How did everything get so complicated?

...

"Hey," She tries to keep her voice even, lips pressing together to suppress her smile. "What're you doing on the 17th?"

Noah caught her gaze through the screen, brows furrowing at her question. "Uh... probably practicing. Why?"

"Oh, nothing." She averts her gaze from the screen as her shoulders go up into a nonchalant shrug, the struggle to keep the smile off her face growing harder each second. "Just wanted to know if you were free and wanted to pick me up from the airport at… eight that night."

She looks back at Noah now, full lips pulled into a grin, and he blinks. Naomi can see the wheels in his head slowly turning, trying to catch up to what she just said to him. He blinks again, face scrunching in confusion before it falls to one in disbelief, eyes widening.

“What the fuck.”

Mimi laughs, letting her head fall back against the couch, and Noah says it again, louder this time.

“What the fuck.” She lifts her head to look at the screen again, seeing a wide smile spreading across his lips. “You’re not fucking with me, right? You’re serious?”

“As can be.” She hums sending him a gentle smile through the screen. “I’ve had the tickets for a while, I wanted to surprise you at the apartment but forgot how expensive Ubers are, so I kind of need you to pick me up.”

“I will. I’d never make you pay for that.” She swears his smile gets nugget, laughter slipping from him. “How long will you be here?”

“Just a week.” Her lips dip downward from the smile she once wore, sighing quietly. “I’m trying not to use too much time, but I really wanted to see you guys and be there for the album release. This is huge. I couldn’t miss it.”

She notices the twitch in his lips, the slight drop at the mention of only being there for a week, but he covers it up quickly.

"That's fine. I wouldn't even care if it were just a day," He murmurs, eyes softening. "Just as long as I get to see you."

It's crazy what he does to her, her stomach fluttering so much she truly believes there's butterflies roaming around in there. Her cheeks heat up and her frown turns back into a sheepish smile.

"Yeah?"

"Of course. I miss you."

"I miss you, too." 

"And so does Nick. Fuck, can I tell him? He's going to be so excited."

Naomi's heart drops at the mention of Nicholas' name and she has to swallow down the rush of feelings that come to her instantly.

"Yeah, you can tell him. I was gonna text him after I got off the phone with you." She says quietly, bringing her hand up to her mouth to chew at her thumb. 

Noah's lips twitch up into a smile and he hums in response, "It's going to be so nice having you here... fuck, Nick's seriously going to be so excited. He mentioned the other day that he missed you."

Oh. Her tummy does that thing again where it's flipping and turning in every which way, and she knows her cheeks are heating up. She swallows thickly, throat drying up, but she does her best to smile back at Noah.

"Did he?"

"Yeah." 

There's a short pause before Noah's changing the subject, obviously oblivious to Naomi's reactions. She nods along to whatever he says, trying to focus on her boyfriend and not the nagging feeling in the pit of her stomach, her brain screaming at her every chance it could. 

She was going to have to tell them sooner rather than later.

Her eyes narrowed as she scanned the crowd around her, slight irritation bubbling inside of her. It was literally eight o'clock at night, a Wednesday night. Why the hell were there so many people? She huffs to herself as she continues to look for a familiar face, and her breath hitches once she finds Noah standing only a few feet away. He hadn't seen her yet, and she suspects he's wearing the same irritated expression that she is, eyes narrowed, and hands stuffed in his pockets as he looked through the sea of people.

Relief washes over his face when he finally spots her and her feet start moving before she even thinks about it, a smile spreading across her lips when he waves her over.

"Fucking finally." He groans out, barely giving her time to reply before he scoops her into his arms. "Felt like I was standing here forever."

She all but melts in his hold, the irritation she had been feeling just seconds before leaving her the moment Noah wrapped her up in his arms. This is what she was missing. The feeling of comfort she had so desperately been yearning for. Naomi sighs as she buries her face against his chest, fingers curling around the fabric of his shirt. She feels his lips brush against the side of her temple, and she can feel the smile spreading across his features.

"That flight felt like it was fucking forever." Naomi grumbles, the memory of the crying baby a few seats behind her filling her mind. "Didn't think I was gonna make it."

"Thank fuck you did." Noah chuckles as she pulls back but keeps her arms around him. Their eyes lock and his smile grows, leaning down to press their foreheads together. "Missed you."

"Missed you." She whispers, eyes fluttering shut. 

They stay like that for a beat before Noah's pulling back, looking around them as if he was waiting for someone else.

"Nicky should be on his way back..." Noah's voice trails off and Naomi's skin crawls at the mention of the other, stomach dropping. "Ah! There he is."

Her body turns as she follows Noah's gaze and in between the crowds of people emerges Nicholas, a wide grin stretching across his lips as their eyes meet. Her breath hitches in her throat, similar to how it had when she saw Noah, and her heart pounds against her chest. She stood still as Nicholas finally reached them, arms being thrown around her and her face pressing into his chest.

"There's our girl."

She sputters, the sound being muffled by Nicholas' shirt as he holds her closer, lips brushing against the side of her head.

Our girl.

In a perfect world that was true, she was theirs. She always had been, even when they were just friends. She feels her eyes burn. Knowing what she did now, how she felt for the both of them, what Nicholas felt... She squeezes her eyes shut and lets her arms wrap around his middle, hugging him tightly. She can hear Analise yelling at her in the back of her mind, chanting Tell them! Tell them! Tell them! but she can't. Not now, at least. Not right before the biggest day of their entire lives. 

The burning behind her eyes doesn't stop especially when she feels Noah behind her, pressing into her as his arms slip around her and Nicholas, joining the embrace. It feels so right to be wrapped up between the two of them, having just the two of them pick her up from the airport. It makes so much sense, and she lets her mind wander back to that perfect world where this is the norm. Where they meet her here and pick her up, exchanging hugs, I love you, I missed you, and then heading off their home. 

God. Naomi loves them so much that it physically hurts at this point.

Nicholas is the first to pull away, but Noah's still attached to her back, chin now resting against her shoulder.

"You're probably tired." Nicholas hums, eyes scanning over her face. She blinks away the tears, thankful none fall, but knows that he noticed the red rimming around her eyes. His brows furrow. "Everything alright?"

She nods, leaning back against Noah's chest. "Yeah. Just missed you guys."

His face softens and she feels Noah's arms squeeze around her gently.

"We missed you, too," Noah hums in response before finally untangling himself from her but leaves an arm around her shoulder. Nicholas reaches for her suitcase. "Nick’s right, you probably are tired and ready to get home.”

Home.

A lump rises into the base of her throat and she blinks away that burning feeling in her eyes, and leaned into Noah’s side, trying to relax in his embrace. She flicked her eyes towards Nicholas who was already looking at her, eyes narrowed slightly, but lips tugged into a small smile. He knew something was up with her, more than just being tired, but she knew he wouldn't press.

Naomi gives him her own smile, small but a smile nonetheless, and nuzzles herself further into Noah's side.

“I should’ve picked an earlier flight.” She says, a yawn soon following after. She was tired, and later flights always leaves her exhausted. It was about eight at night California time, so even later than the East Coast time she was used to. “I‘m exhausted.”

"Well, let’s get you home and into bed, hm?" Noah squeezed her shoulder, and she felt the brush of his lips against the side of her head, eyes fluttering shut at the comforting feeling. 

"Yeah." Her eyes open again to stare at Nicholas beside her and then tilting her head up to stare at Noah, chest aching only slightly, the burn behind her eyes slowly leaving. "Let's go home."

…

There had been a lot more people there than she had anticipated, and as she eyed the crowd from the merch table she was currently guarding, her chest swelled with pride. She had noticed the rise of Bad Omens in these last few months, their follower count growing steadily, online forums talking about them and their upcoming debut release more and more. It was almost fulfilling to see it all finally come to light, years of blood, sweat, and tears finally leading them to this very moment.

Naomi knows how hard they had worked for this - how hard Noah had worked for this. She has to swallow down her pride, willed away the burning tears at her eyes as she watched Noah work the crowd. It had to be exhilarating, she thinks, getting the crowd hyped up, hearing them sing back those very lyrics you spent hours on. She can't even imagine what Noah must be feeling right now. Not even just him, but Nicholas, Folio, and Jolly as well. They all look like they're meant to be up there. 

She’s so fucking proud.

Her focus on the stage was broken by someone coming up to the table, giving her a timid smile as they pointed to a shirt behind her. She shook herself out of her thoughts and smiled gently at them before reaching for the shirt that they had wanted. They looked young, probably around Folio’s age, and she watched as they handed over the cash for the shirt. She's going by memory now, sorting through money to give them their change and she looks up briefly at the stage. 

She freezes, the dollar bills almost slipping from her grasp. Noah had moved from the center of the stage over to the left, where Nicholas had stood, and the sight had something igniting inside Naomi – like there was a fire in the pit of her stomach. Noah moves with a purpose, slinging an arm over Nicholas' shoulder and presses into his side. This shouldn't be doing something for her, because they've always done this, but it's Noah's next move that has her breath hitching ever so slightly.

Noah's twisting Nicholas towards him, leaning forward so their foreheads can press together. She swallows thickly and watches as Noah's hand goes to move to the back of Nicholas' neck, gripping. Nicholas' eyes flutter shut in that exact moment, and she has to press her lips together in hopes for her mouth to not fucking drop open, especially when Noah presses forward again, their noses barely brushing together as he sang into the mic.

Naomi forced her gaze away from the two, heart pounding against her chest and that fiery pit in her stomach not letting up once. She tried to rid herself of those thoughts, lips straining into a smile as she finally handed the change back to the fan who wasn't even phased. They smiled warmly, and if they noticed the slight flush to her cheeks, they didn't comment on it, instead thanking her and walking off. 

She let out a breath she had been holding, eyes gazing back towards the stage and felt the relief flow through her body when she noticed that Noah was on the other side now. Thank God, she thinks, letting out another long breath before helping out another fan. She’s not sure she could handle seeing them that close again.

As their set went on, she lost count of the times her mind drifted back to Noah leaning into Nicholas' space, his hand placed on the back of the other's neck to hold him there as their foreheads pressed together. She pushed it as far back as she could while doing her job for the night, but it was always there, unmoving in a small portion of her mind. They looked good together, faces far too close to not be taken as intimate, eyes shut in almost ecstasy... Naomi shakes her head.

Girl, get a grip, she thinks.

She can't get too lost in that thought, doesn't let herself cling on to the what if? of the situation. She hadn't let herself think of the maybe, the mere possibility of Noah feeling the same for Nicholas. She doesn't have to think twice on how her boyfriend feels for her because she knows - Noah never gave her a reason to think otherwise. It's Noah's feelings for Nicholas that she's confused about. 

They grew up together. Where Nicholas went, Noah seemed to follow, even long after Naomi had come into the picture and became their friend. She thinks back to long nights spent at their apartment, staying up way too late and passing around a bottle of wine as they talked about their dreams, the future. She remembers how Noah was always staring at her, at the time not knowing the look in his eyes was filled with pure adoration. But she also remembers Noah staring at Nicholas, when he thought no one was paying attention. Not as often as he did her, but he still would. With that same look. 

She didn't know it then, but she knows it now, and her stomach turns all the same as it had with Analise a few weeks ago.  

"Holy fucking shit."

Folio's voice breaks her out of her thoughts and Naomi turns away from the box she's working on to face her friend, giving him a wide smile. 

"Dude!" She all but shouts as Folio bounds his way to the merch table, throwing her arms around him. "That was so fucking sick!"

He slips an arm around her waist, giving it a gentle squeeze. "You think?"

"Think?" Naomi pulls back to stare at him, giving him the most ridiculous look. "Did you not see that crowd? You fucking killed it. They all loved it!”

Folio smiles, big and full of pride, and she can't help but wrap her arms around him again, pulling him back into another hug.

"So proud of you." Naomi remembers the very beginnings of this band, and to think back to where they started up to this very moment makes her a little misty eyed. "Only up from here."

Folio's eyes roll playfully when he pulls away. "Please. The album just came out."

"And?" She laughs now, pinching his arm. "Just watch - in a few years everyone's going to know who Bad Omens are."

"...I hope so." He smiles sheepishly now, head dipping down to hide the hint of flush on his cheeks. 

"I hope so too."

Their conversation is cut short when she hears a few loud voices come closer to them, turning her head to spot the rest of the band coming their way. Her stomach drops the second she sees Noah, and she can't help but stare as both he and Nicholas make their way over to the merch table. Memories of them on stage flash through her mind and she has to look away from them, trying to shake whatever thoughts that seemed to float through her mind. She cannot be thinking about that.

But it's so hard, especially with how good they looked together. Noah's hand wrapped around the back of Nicholas' neck; Nicholas' eyes fluttering shut as Noah pressed himself closer... She physically shakes her head this time, trying to will away those thoughts as Noah comes up to her. She tries to do her best to act like a normal human being and not someone who was just thinking about her boyfriend doing God knows what with their best friend.

"So?" Noah's grin is so wide, she's sure his cheeks hurt, and she doesn't stop herself from throwing her arms around him.

"That was fucking amazing!" Naomi all but squeals. "Y'all have always been good but shit... this show was top tier."

Noah pulls away from her just enough for them to lock eyes, his grin falling to something much softer - timider. "You think so?"

She nods, standing slightly on her tiptoes to press her lips to his cheek gently. "Well duh. Of course, I do."

"You're just saying that because you like me." Noah grumbles playfully and she can't help but pinch at his side, laughing when he yelps.

"Oh, shut up." Their eyes meet again, and her gaze softens, arms slipping back around his waist. "You've worked really fucking hard for this and it showed up there tonight. I'm so proud of you."

She smiles up at Noah gently before turning to face Jolly and Nicholas who have finally joined the group, catching their gazes.

"You guys, too. I don't think I've ever been prouder of anyone in my entire life."

Nicholas blushes, face red and looks away from her, mumbling a quiet "Thank you" and busying himself with folding the rest of the shirts she had laying out. Cute, she thinks to herself before she looks at Jolly, who's waving her off.

"Oh, please. Don't go soft on me." But from the faint color on his cheeks as well, she knows he appreciated it. 

"So, what's the plan?" Folio speaks up, looking around the group. "Celebratory drinks?"

"You're not even legal yet, dude." Noah teases, resting his arm around Naomi's shoulder.

"Neither are you?" Her, Nicholas, and Jolly say in unison before breaking out in laughter, especially at the pouty face Noah gives them.

"Almost!"

"Yeah, two months." Nicholas snorts, casting both her and Noah a look before focusing back on the shirts. "But I'm down to drink."

"Me too." Jolly agrees. "Nick, Mimi - you guys get this all packed up. The rest of the crew will get everything else. Sound good?"

She meets Nicholas' eyes and nods, giving him a gentle smile before focusing back on Jolly, throwing him a thumbs up. "Sounds good to me."

"The quicker we finish, the quicker we can get out of here." Noah says happily, pressing a kiss to the top of her head before pulling away from her. "Let's get this shit done. I'm ready for a drink." 

The three of them walk over to the rest of the crew, beginning to take down their equipment, leaving her and Nicholas alone. This was the first time she had been alone with him since he had been home weeks ago, and her stomach swirls in excitement as she slips into the space next to him, folding the rest of the shirts scattered across the table.

"You did good tonight." She hummed, bumping her hip into his. 

"Yeah?" He keeps his voice low, and she steals a quick glance at him to see the sides of his mouth quirking up into a smile. She nods. "Thank you. I had fun."

"You looked like you did." The words fall from her mouth without much thought, and immediately the image of him and Noah on stage plague her mind. She clears her throat. "You guys are really getting the hang of this."

"It's gotten easier." He says with a shrug, closing up a box he had finished. "Still weird having people like... come and see us? Like. Singing our songs and shit. It's weird but nice."

"It's amazing, that's what it is." She pauses her actions to lean her hip against the table, crossing her arms over her chest. "I sound like a broken record but I just... I'm so proud of you guys. You've been busting your asses for years and it's finally paying off."

Nicholas reaches for the shirts she had folded, and her eyes watch his movements, watching as he placed them into another empty box. Most of the shirts have been tucked away nicely and the only things left are some CDs and a few vinyl variants, and a few posters she thinks. 

"Thank you for coming and helping out." Their eyes meet again, and she holds in a breath, but doesn't look away. "I was scared shitless for tonight, but it was uh, easier. Knowing you were in the crowd." He reaches up to rub at the back of his neck. "Made it easier for Noah, too."

His words pull at her heart, chest tightening. She made it easier for them. Having her there made the biggest night of their lives easier in some shape or form and she has to blink away the burning in her eyes, lips tugging into a smile.

"I'm glad I was able to make it easier."

They stare at each other for a beat longer than needed and Nicholas' eyes drop, going back to packing up their stuff. 

"Ready to haul this shit out to the van?"

She eyes the filled boxes around them, and then the things that still need to be packed up, and internally groans to herself. She wishes they had at least one more set of hands to help out, but everyone else is handling all the heavy duty that she definitely doesn't want to deal with and nods. 

"As ready as I'll ever be."

And on the back-and-forth trips she and Nicholas make from the venue to the van, she can't shake away the feeling in the back of her mind telling her that it's going to be a long night. 

…

Naomi feels warm all over.

The alcohol courses through her veins as she and Noah throw back their third shot of the night. She makes a face, her chest burning from the contents, and chases the after taste with her mixed drink. Noah laughs from beside her.

"Oh, come on! It wasn't that bad."

She groans and leans into his side, her forehead pressing against his shoulder. "You know how much I hate tequila." 

His arm wraps around her, pulling her closer, and she shivers at the feeling of his fingers dancing along her hip and up under her shirt, rubbing the skin there gently. He dips his head down to brush his lips against her cheek, another laugh escaping him. Another shiver ran through her. She's forgotten just how touchy Noah can get whenever he drinks, and after weeks of not seeing him, she's realizing just how much she's missed his hands against her.

"You're being such a baby."

"Fuck you." She jokes, pulling her head up to look at him. He's already staring at her, eyes glazed over and a dopey grin on his lips. 

"Didn't peg you as an exhibitionist, babe."

Naomi sputters at Noah's words and the grin on his lips only grows, and she shoves at his chest playfully. 

"You're terrible." She grumbles, but there's no heat behind her words, the edges of her lips tugging in a smile as her eyes roll. 

Noah laughs, loud and bright, and she lets that very smile on her lips grow. 

"But you looove me." Noah all but sings, pressing a very over dramatic kiss to her cheek. 

She laughs, half-heartedly shoving at his chest. "Hush."

He pulls back to stare at her, and she almost misses the playful glint in his gaze before his eyes drop to her lips. Her tummy flips and she found herself leaning in, wanting nothing more than to have Noah's lips against hers, but stops midway when she sees movement behind the boy. 

Nicholas slips into the spot next to Noah and Naomi can't help but stare, eyes roaming over his alcohol flushed face. Noah feels him right away, a smile stretching across his lips as he turns to look back at him. Her eyes gaze down to his hand coming to rest on Nicholas' thigh and he drops his head on his shoulder, eyes fluttering shut.

"Hi Nicky." 

His tone was sweet and something about it made Naomi’s chest twist. She tries to not think about that right now, not with her hazy, alcohol induced mind, but she can't help but pull her bottom lip in between her teeth at the sight of Noah in between both her and Nicholas. Her mind goes back to Noah’s arm wrapped around Nicholas, against her own will, and remembers him leaning his head against the others as he sang into the microphone. She squirms in her seat.

She isn’t sure why it got her so riled up, but she quite literally couldn’t stop thinking about it. The way Nicholas’ eyes fluttered shut, fingers working along his bass as Noah pressed against him… she has to press her thighs together to try and relieve some of the heat building up inside of her.

With a shake of her head, she reaches forward to brush some of Noah's hair from his face and she doesn't miss the way Nicholas' tenses at Noah's affection, a strained smile forming on his lips.

"Hi Noah." 

"Where'd you wander off to?" Noah's words were slurred, and his eyes open now, lifting his head up to rest his chin on Nicholas' shoulder now. "I've been waiting for you to come take a shot with me, Mimi's being a wimp about it."

Naomi notices the shift in Nicholas' eyes and the way his throat bobs at the close proximity. Her hand drops from Noah's hair to his thigh, gently rubbing, and the boy reaches absentmindedly with his free hand to lace their fingers together.

"I am not." She argues and can't help but huff, eyes rolling. "He gave me tequila when he knows I fucking hate it."

"Oh, man." Nicholas laughs, eyes scrunching. "You know how she feels about tequila, dude. She can't handle it like us - she’s a baby.”

Her mouth drops open, offended.

“Hey!” But it goes ignored.

"Well, I was waiting for you! Then I couldn't find you so," Noah shrugs and lifts his head to look at her. "Mimi was my victim for the night."

"I'm here now." She notices the way Nicholas' shoulders relax, leaning into Noah. His smile isn't strained anymore. "Do you think you can handle another one?"

The mischievous grin Noah gives Nicholas is answer enough and before she realizes it, there's more shots on the table for them - tequila still, much to Naomi's dismay. Jolly joins them at some point, and so does Folio, but they both come and go as they work their way around the bar to talk to everyone. The three of them stay put in their booth, throwing back shots.

As the night goes on, her mind grows hazier and hazier with each shot she takes. She should've stopped, she knows this, especially when they stopped tasting like alcohol and more like water, but it was the only way to calm her nerves. Even in her drunk haze she was able to notice how handsy Noah was tonight.

Perhaps it was the tequila making him this way, and maybe it was because they hadn't seen each other in so long that he needed to touch her in any way that he could, but it was driving her crazy. His hand would inch higher every few minutes, fingers dipping into the exposed flesh of her thigh. Every time she'd feel his nails dig into her skin she'd squirm, pressing her thighs together to relieve some of the pressure building up. 

She moved her focus from the hand on her thigh, to try and regain some kind of normalcy in that brain of hers, and found Nicholas staring at her. Well, not exactly staring at her but... at Noah's hand on her thigh, inching upward every few seconds. His tongue darts out to swipe over his bottom lip and then his eyes flick up towards hers, widening for a second when he realized he had been caught. 

Her breath hitches and she just can't seem to look away, and neither could Nicholas, and it wasn't until another squeeze on her thigh from Noah pulled her away from those hypnotizing eyes.

"-huh?" She says dumbly, looking over at Noah. He had said something, but she didn't quite catch it, too preoccupied. Noah laughs. If he had noticed her staring at Nicholas, he didn't comment on it.

"Just said I don't think I've drank this much in... forever." He hums, head leaning on her shoulder. She relaxes and leans into him, head turning to brush her lips against the side of his head.

"Same." She groans, eyes fluttering shut. "Don't think I've ever drank so much tequila in my life. You two are evil."

She hears both Nicholas and Noah chuckle at that and she smiles, opening her eyes again to look between the two. It was nice to be there with them, reminding her of the days spent in their apartment with their cheap, shitty wine. Her stomach turns, chest squeezing at the memory, and she feels herself almost yearning for that. Back when things didn't have to make sense and she just loved being around them.

If only things could be so simple.

"Yeah, it's been a minute since I've drank this much." Nicholas says while scratching at his neck, a light flush covering his cheeks. "Think I need to slow down."

"Fuck. Same." Noah's quiet for a moment before he laughs, picking his head up to look at Nicholas. "Remember that one night? Like... two years ago?"

Nicholas raises a brow at him. "You're gonna have to be more specific there, man."

"Davis' birthday? We almost drank damn near everything by ourselves."

Naomi sees something shift in Nicholas' eyes, the redness on his cheeks becoming more and more apparent as time passes.

"Oh yeah." His voice is clipped, jaw twitching. "I remember."

Her eyes narrow between the two boys, not understanding the exchange. He seemed... she wasn't sure what he seemed like, but the only thing she could describe it as is tense. Just like he'd been for weeks. She doesn't remember the last time she'd seen Nicholas relaxed for more than an hour; doesn't even remember the last time she didn't notice the lingering sadness that floated around in his eyes. She frowns at him, and he shifts his gaze, looking back at Noah.

"That was fucking crazy." Noah slurs, then turns his head to look at Naomi. "Have I ever told you about that night?"

She shakes her head. "Nah. All I remember is that you guys were miserable the next day. Kind of glad I had to miss it for work."

"You should be glad. Davis almost killed us." Nicholas grumbled and Noah laughed beside her.

"I only remember bits from that night, if I'm being honest." He starts, and then turns his focus back on Nicholas. "Didn't I kiss you?"

"Pardon?" She feels like her eyes are about to jump right out of her fucking head, heart pounding against her chest. Noah looks at her again, head tilted. "Back track. You guys kissed?!"

"Almost." Nicholas' eyes are just as wide as hers and he's quick to answer, head shaking. "Almost kissed. I think I stopped him. Or… maybe Davis did? Actually, I think he ended up tripping and stopping himself.”

Noah's laughing again, all happy and calm as if he didn't just drop the biggest bomb in the history of ever. Naomi's heart slows down, only slightly though, because they didn't actually kiss. For some reason she finds herself being a tad bit disappointed by that. 

This is not helping her earlier thoughts one fucking bit.

"Oh yeah! I did trip, but I think Davis was going to stop us, anyways."

Naomi's eyes flick between them in silence as her mind goes into overdrive, every possible scenario running through it. Noah and Nicholas almost kissed. Touching and kissing and the sweet, sweet noises Noah would be making because she knows how much the boy loves kissing and... 

The tequila is working overtime tonight because her mouth moves before her mind can even catch up.

"Me and Nicky almost kissed once, too."

It was Noah's turn to look at her like she was crazy, brown eyes wide in surprise. Nicholas looks... terrified. All the color has drained from his face and part of her feels bad, like she should have asked him if it was okay to bring it up, but Noah had brought up their almost kiss. Why couldn't she? It's not like they actually did kiss, just like them.

Even if she wishes they had.

"When?!" Noah practically shrieks, and if it weren't for the music and other conversations going on in the bar, she's sure everyone else would've heard them. 

She shrugs. "Uh. When he tattooed me. The first time. Forever ago."

Noah's mouth parts and looks at her, and then at Nicholas, then back to her again.

"Wow..."

Her stomach swirls with nerves and she's sure he's just shocked and not

angry, especially when the way his grip has not loosened on her thigh one bit. She's more nervous about Nicholas, gazing up at him but he's already looking at her. She feels hot under his gaze, and there's something behind the look that she can't fucking read and it's driving her crazy.

"That's..." Noah starts again but stops, throat moving as he swallows, blinking between the both of them again. 

"It was forever ago. Before you guys were even a thing." Nicholas says quickly, placing a reassuring hand on Noah's thigh.

Noah just nods, dazed, and maybe it was the alcohol catching up making his reaction this way - whatever this way is - but the way he's looking at them... Naomi chews on her bottom lip, her hand finding Noah's that was still placed on her thigh. 

"Are you upset?" She questions, fear rising inside of her.

"No." He's quick with his response, turning his full attention to her. "I'm just... thinking."

"...About what?" 

"I..." Noah pauses, tongue darting out to swipe across his bottom lip, eyes shifting between both her and Nicholas. "I think you guys should kiss."

She freezes, the hand she had on Noah's thigh digging into the fabric of his jeans. Her eyes dart to Nicholas' and she's sure they have the same exact look on their faces - eyes blown wide, lips parted, staring at Noah like he had three fucking heads because... what the fuck? 

Naomi notices the way Nicholas shifts uncomfortably in his seat, lips pressed in a line as his eyes dart between her and Noah. She catches his gaze and holds it steadily, trying to ask him quietly what the hell do we do? without actually saying anything. His jaw twitches, and then he swallows, and tears his gaze from hers to look at Noah.

"Isn't that... weird?" He starts, voice rough. He clears his throat. "You're dating."

Noah doesn't say anything at first, his blown-out eyes staring at the two of them sitting either side of him. Naomi's eyes drop to Nicholas' hand that's still placed on Noah's thigh, and then to her own hand that's wrapped in between her boyfriend's. Her stomach swirls, heat builds up inside of her just at the very image of Noah pressed against the two of them, and she's reminded of their interaction on stage. She bites down on her bottom lip and squeezes Noah's hand, causing the boy to look at her.

"I wanna see it." Noah's words are slurred together, and she's reminded that the boy is very much drunk, as are her and Nicholas. 

"Noah, babe, I don't know-"

"Please." He cuts her off and his words are desperate, voice edging on a whine as he stares at her with wide eyes. "It's okay. I... I wanna see it."

Both her and Nicholas share a look across Noah, and she's sure they're both filled with uncertainty, but she can't help but want to do it so badly. Especially now that Noah is asking for it - practically begging. He wants them to kiss. He wants to see it. Why? She's not sure, but God does she want it. 

And with the way Nicholas is staring at her, it's safe to assume he wants it too.

"Okay." She says slowly, peeling her eyes away from Nicholas to look at her boyfriend. "As long as you're okay with it... and Nicky is, too."

Noah looks at Nicholas expectantly and she sees the older male swallow, eyes bouncing between the two of them before he nods slowly.

"Yeah." He clears his throat. "Yeah, I'm okay with it."

Great. Cool. Fantastic.

She swallows the lump in her throat, anxiety climbing its way through her as the two of them shift around to get into a much more comfortable position. Noah stays between them, watching with eager eyes, and Naomi doesn't dare take her hand away from his, his touch keeping her grounded.

What the fuck is happening? He has to realize how crazy this is, right? He's just drunk. He would never let this happen if he was sober, thinking more clearly. Though, her mind drifts to the saying of drunk words being your sober thoughts, and her body heats up just at the mere thought of Noah thinking about this before. 

She sucks in a shaky breath as Nicholas leans towards her, his forehead pressing against her own. Noah's hand squeezes hers, his thumb sliding against her skin reassuringly, but the nerves in her stomach won't quit. 

Her eyes flutter shut the second their lips meet, and she can't stop the gasp that seems to leave her. His lips were soft, not as soft as Noah's, but much softer than she ever expected. They both don't move at first, just sit there with their lips pressed together, until she feels Noah's hands squeeze hers again. She moves first, lips dragging across Nicholas' and she physically shakes at the noise he makes, a groan from deep inside his chest. He reaches up with a shaky hand to cup the side of her face and she wraps her free hand around his wrist, keeping it there as their lips move together.

Naomi swears her heart is about to burst out of her chest when she pulls away from Nicholas. Silence surrounds them as their eyes open and her breath catches in her throat, lips still buzzing from the kiss, and she so desperately wants to lean back in. She doesn't though, instead her tongue darts out to swipe across her bottom lip and her entire body heats up as Nicholas' eyes follows it, before dragging his eyes back up her face.

"My turn." Noah's voice pulled Naomi's gaze away from Nicholas, looking into her boyfriend's wide, brown eyes. He looked just about as dazed as she felt, his skin flushed pink from the alcohol and possibly something else. He purses his lips into a pout. "Please?"

She smiles easily, her hand that was resting against his thigh coming up to cup the side of his face. Noah melts into the touch instantly, turning his head to nose at the palm of her hand. "Of course, baby."

They fall into each other naturally, Naomi's lips finding home against Noah's. It felt right - like it always had. Even in her drunken state it still felt as if this was where she was supposed to be, and with Nicholas being so close, her heart nearly jumped its way out of her chest at just how perfect everything felt. Like he was always meant to be there, with them. 

Noah's kisses are desperate, a bit sloppy, something that tends to happen when he drinks, and Naomi's hand falls from his cheek to the back of his neck, fingers working through his hair. She tugs gently, a silent way of telling him to relax, breathe, and the whimper he lets out against her lips goes straight to her core.

Fuck.

They pull a part and Noah already looks wrecked, lips red, shiny, and swollen. His flushed face even darker now, eyes dilated like crazy. He looks like she could tell him to do anything, and he’d do it, simply only to please her. She smiles sweetly at him, gently scratching at his scalp and leaning back in to press a kiss to the side of his mouth.

"Was that good enough for you?" She teases in a gentle voice when she pulls back.

Noah nods but doesn't say a word, staring at her for a moment before he glances off to the side. Nicholas sits beside them quietly, patiently, but with the same blown-out, flustered gaze Noah has. She's sure she looks similar to them, a slight twinge of color to her cheeks, eyes wild. She swallows.

"Nicky," Noah hums from beside her, shifting his body towards Nicholas'. Her hand falls from his hair and back to his thigh. "Can I kiss you too?"

He says it so gently, with so much care, that Naomi's heart clenches beneath her chest. Noah looks back at her for a moment, eyes wide now with a bit of fear, silently asking permission and she nods. Of course, she does, because why would she ever deny him of this? She sees it now, sees what Analise had been trying to tell her just mere weeks ago. 

If these boys haven't noticed it yet, they will soon.

She looks at Nicholas now, seeing the hesitancy behind his eyes and she gives him a nod as well. She watches his throat bob as he swallows before his gaze lands on Noah's again, giving him a timid smile.

"Is that what you want?"

Noah nods, a little too enthusiastically that Naomi has to hold back a laugh. "Yes. I want it." 

Another glance is shared between Naomi and Nicholas and the older boy nods to himself, as if preparing for what's about to happen. 

"Okay."

At first no one moves, and Naomi watches the two boys expectantly as they stare at each other. Noah's gaze falls to Nicholas' lips and his tongue darts out to swipe over his own before a whine pulls itself from his chest and he's reaching out, fingers curling around Nicholas' shirt to bring him closer. Nicholas lets him do it, eyes shutting as their lips finally meet and Naomi freezes. She doesn't move, doesn't even fucking breathe, but watches both boys kiss in front of her.

Noah whines against Nicholas' lips, desperate and borderline pitiful, and Naomi's thighs press together. The noise travels straight to her core and her fingers dip into Noah's thigh, her grip tightening. She watches carefully as Nicholas brings a hand up to Noah's cheek, cupping his cheek like had done hers moments ago while the younger trying to deepen the kiss. Their lips slide together messily, hungry for more, and the only thing she can think of right now is how good they look together and how she desperately wants to be between them.

She has to push the thought of her lips sliding across Noah's, Nicholas behind her and his lips attached to her neck, so far to the back of her mind or else... she's not sure what she would do. But whatever it is she can't do it, especially here. In a very public place. Her heart rate picks up just at the thought of someone catching them and almost as if they could feel her distress, the two boys finally part.

Nicholas looks at her first, eyes darting between her and Noah. She swallows at the sight of his hand still placed against Noah's cheek, thumb brushing against his skin.

"Happy?"

Noah nods in his hold, dazed, and at a loss for words. Nicholas smiles, small, but soft, and it's the smile she knows that he's saved for only them, and the quick pace of her heart slows down for just a moment. This feels right. The thought doesn't scare her as much.

Noah finally looks at her, hooded eyes and a dazed smile settling on his lips, and she can't help but reach forward, pushing some hair out of his face and tucking it loosely behind his ear. He turns his head slightly, pressing another kiss against the base of his palm and her heart squeezes beneath her chest. She feels Nicholas' eyes on her, and she turns to look at him.

Two things happened at that moment. 

She notices the exact moment of realization flash through Nicholas' eyes when they finally meet hers, and she watches them widen. She's not sure what exactly he's realizing, because she thinks he's known about his own feelings for some time now, but perhaps... Perhaps he's realizing that he's not the only one in this. That he’s not alone.

She can only hope, though.

The soft realization is soon overtaken by another, eyes widening even more, and her skin runs cold. The softness is gone and now replaced by fear, and his face drains from any color. His hand drops from Noah's cheek and scoots away from him, trying to put some distance between the three of them. 

He's panicking. 

"Nicky..." She starts, sobering up quickly. 

"I'm okay." He sounds anything but and pushes himself up and out of the booth. "I'm okay. I just - I need air."

Noah stirs beside her, and he scoots closer to the edge of the booth, trying to reach out for Nicholas. "Where are you going?"

Nicholas looks down at him, and then her, and his expression is pained, like he's battling with himself internally. Naomi's heart drops.

"I'll be back, okay?" He rushes out, giving Noah a quick and very strained smile. "I just. Need air. It's hot. I'm drunk. Not a good mix."

And then he's gone, pushing his way through the crowd to get as far away from them as he could. Naomi feels like she could cry, the moment sobering her up too fucking much because the moment was finally catching up to her.

What the fuck did they do?

"Is he okay?" Noah's voice breaks her out of her thoughts, and she blinks away the tears she hadn't realized were building up, looking towards her boyfriend.

"Yeah." She says, but she feels like it’s a lie, and reaches forward to smooth some of his hair back. "Just needed some air. He'll be back."

That seems to be enough for Noah, his shoulders dropping in relief and a satisfied smile stretches across his lips. Naomi tries to smile back, but she knows it doesn't reach her eyes and she leans forward, pressing a kiss to his cheek. 

"Let's get some water, yeah? I don't think we need any more shots."

He agrees easily, letting her drag him through the crowd to try and find some water, and they eventually bump into Jolly and Folio on the way. She tries to act normal, even when Jolly asks where Nicholas ran off to, but he seems to be satisfied when she tells him that he just went outside for a breather, he'll be back. No one questioned it again, even when they didn't see him for the rest of the night. 

[dykekingofhell]

Season 2x08 Thoughts (pt 1?): Armand

My biggest gripe with the finale (which also had a lot I loved) is the "twist" that it was Lestat who saved Louis at the trial rather than Armand and that Armand intended for Louis to die. I'll preface this by saying that I was not going into this episode deluded into thinking Armand isn't a monstrous creature. Hell, going into season 2 I was really hoping to see the frankenclaudia experiment as described in The Vampire Armand on screen. I also was looking forward to Louis and Armand's divorce; their simple separation after years of them both retreating inwards becoming shells of people, barely speaking to each other but being too cowardly to leave for 70 years is one of the fascinating parts of the book to me.

Yes, Armand always directed the play (in the book's case scripted Lestat in the trial), but his motivations have been greatly altered in the show in a way that feels less compelling and to a degree flattening, of course, though this is impacted by personal taste. In the book(s) Armand's actions during the trial (and beforehand psychically manipulating Louis to turn Madeleine) are done out of a warped perception of love in part based in ownership and isolation. Armand views Claudia as he does most others that he does not love, as an insignificant pawn, in this case, an obstacle for Louis' "growth" and and obstacle in the way of their relationship. He genuinely believes that by enacting the cruelty of Claudia and Madeleine's deaths he can isolate Louis into loving him entirely. He states plainly before the trial (when it's already been set in motion):

"She's an era for you, an era of your life. If and when you break with her, you break with the only one alive who has shared that time with you. You fear that, the isolation of it, the burden, the scope of eternal life." (pg 221)

and after the trial:

"I used to believe you would get over it, that when the pain of all of it left you, you would grow warm again and filled with love, and filled with that wild and insatiable curiosity with which you first came to me, that inveterate conscience, and that hunger for knowledge that brought you all the way to Paris to my cell. I thought it was a part of you that couldn't die. And I thought that when the pain was gone you would forgive me for what part I played in her death. She never loved you know. Not in the way that I loved you, and the way that you loved us both. I knew this! I understood it! And I believed I would gather you to me and hold you. And time would open to us, and we would be the teachers of one another. All the things that gave you happiness would give me happiness; and I would be the protector of your pain. My power would be your power." (pg 260)

Armand is desperate for Louis (bringer of change, embodying the 19th century) to continue to love him past their early infatuation to be Armand's new window into the world and a replacement for Marius (embodiment of the Renaissance) and Lestat (the 18th century which has already rejected him). His longing for that all-consuming companionship characterized by isolation, manipulation, and ownership becomes most implicitly clear I think when Armand speaks nostalgically about Venice, "I wish I had the artist's power to bring alive for you the Venice of the fifteenth century, my master's palace there, the love I felt for him when I was a mortal boy, and the love he felt for me when he made me a vampire. Oh, if I could make those times come alive for either you or me . . .for only an instant!" (pg 222) (in a way the trial and subsequent isolation IS him trying to make those times come alive)

Ultimately Armand's greatest transgression, the murder of Claudia, is born out of selfish and twisted love for a man (who he has incorrectly perceived as full of endless curiosity and wonder) who he has placed the weight of his world onto. Before the trial even begins he says, "No, I've had to wait and watch for you. And now I'll fight for you. Do you see how ruthless I am in love?" (pg 223)

However, in the show, his transgression is the attempted destruction of LOUIS along with Claudia, and Madeleine. Rather than being born out of selfish love and desire, it is instead born out of Armand's passivity to the status quo (which he clearly wavers on and struggles with as seen by the the Lourve scene, his look of regret outside the restaurant following the judas kiss, and his eventual taking Louis from the coffin). But to me, this aspect of Armand is just as well commented on and explored in an ending closer to the novel in that an orchestration of the end of the coven or a seeking for connection with the age can not be done through himself but only through another acting as a savior. Another compounding possible motivation for Armand's actions is the belief that Louis does not love him and never will love him in the way he needs, and this is him cutting his losses by preserving the coven. This would fit well with the look of guilt and regret outside the restaurant as it immediately follows confirmation from Madeleine that Louis does in fact love him but is withholding. His look could be read as a realization of miscalculation. However, frankly, I don't think that this angle is really explored or built up strongly within the season. And I think that's at least in part because I don't think that their dynamic and its strengths and flaws in the Paris era had enough room to breathe this season. In the last few episodes, their relationship in that era felt to some degree sloppily ill-defined. Ultimately I think that not enough was gained in the twist when it caused Armand's ruthless love to be lost.

Also, I HEAVILY dislike that the reveal comes by way of the Talamasca rather than organic probing from Daniel and Louis leading to a confession from Armand. (I honestly haven't loved most of the Talamasca use this season in general and think the organization is better suited to show up in more general investigative work like with Jesse Reeves in the books rather than in the context of interfering with the interview which felt much more intimate and contained without it). I find Armand's admission of his role in the trial to Louis in the book born out of an attempt to bait Louis into feeling SOMETHING even if it was rage at him after decades of them both living in monotonous misery infinitely more interesting than Daniel being given a file with the answers. I don't think that the reveal needed to play out exactly like in the novel, but if they were going to change it, I wish it had been to another equally strong character moment instead of Talamasca bullshit. Part of me wishes that this season had had another episode because the finale just had so much it needed to include and balance that this cop-out almost feels as if it was born out of necessity to keep everything within runtime.

Anyways, I adored the burning the coven segment, I'm happy Daniel's a vampire, and I really liked the Loustat reunion scene even if I don't love how we got there. I didn't originally intend to post any thoughts on the episode until after my second watch later tn with some friends but it was plaguing my mind so this is the initial ramble. Might have more to say late tn or tomorrow.

[deadrayg2mf]

The Gargoyle's Captive (A Deal with a Demon #3) by Katee Robert

Honestly, like, what do I even say at this point that ya'll haven't heard from me about how much I freakin' love Katee Robert and this series. I will keep this one brief for real because if I don't it'll just be like "Oh my god, Ray, shut the fuck up we get it - this book came out three months ago you're late to the party!"

Okay, so aside from it being Katee freakin' Robert, this book is full of enemies to lovers, femdom, grief-consumed protags, and - my favorite, of course - angst. Yeah, did I see the plot twist coming from a mile away? One thousand percent. Did I care? Frick no. Okay, so we're following the same story - deal with a demon, seven years basically married to leader of demon territory, maybe a baby... But this time, it's Grace the monster hunter and Bram the Gargoyle.

Grace is another enjoyable female lead who is a headstrong take-no-shit kinda gal, probably what you would expect from someone who makes a living out of hunting monsters. She's the last of her family and she's really only here for answers because Azazel happens to be the same demon her mother, who disappeared, made a bargain with, and by golly, she is going to get those answers even if it means selling seven years of her life. Bram is traumatized, grief-stricken, lonely, and at this point has the most sad-boy, giving up on life, fuck it energy I've ever seen in a protagonist - and I am so here for it. I eat that shit up. I love the tragics - stories and characters. He's also the last of his family after his entire family was murdered by an outsider his father brought in. He doesn't actually really want to be there but the opportunity and benefits it brings are too good to pass up, especially when you're in the leadership position he is...

I loved the story clearly, and really liked how handling grief was portrayed, no two people will be able to handle it the same even when they are in the same situation. Grace dug her heels in and became even more stalwart and determined while Bram gave in to the grief of loss and resigned himself to an empty life... and even potentially having it purposely ended at the hands of a scrappy little monster hunter in the bath... They are two people coming to terms with events of the past, the shadow of their parents, and suddenly dealing with someone new who they bought at an auction/got auctioned to for the next seven years that they don't necessarily get along with. That's right, they're totally toxic for each other. Don't worry, we're always promising happy endings here :) It's fast paced, there's a lot to get through in 186 pages, but I really think it was done to the best of its ability. Do I wish this was 500 pages? Uh, YEAH, but it is what it is and what it is, is really good. I will admit... it took me a hot minute to slug through obviously. I actually feel a little bad about this review because I was kind of forcing myself to read this. I wasn't in the right headspace and so while objectively I knew I was enjoying it I was also aware that I was, like, not locked in. I am very much intending to reread it when I'm not begrudgingly reading while rotting in bed just because nothing sounds enjoyable.

With that, I swear I am not just pulling shit out of my ass with everything I've told you. I really did enjoy the book, I love the way it's written, I liked the characters, the cover art is amazing, and it's just another great addition to the Deal with a Demon series. I think I'll give it a solid.... 7.9/10 with subject to change in the future :)

Would I read again? Yes, I plan to. Once the pesky ole depression and imminent demise anxiety wear off.

Would I recommend? Of cousre, I'm always recommending Katee Robert... I'm not sure what happens on the day I don't...? Does the world end?