#also I really love his name. River. What a beautiful name

[kingsmoot]

as promised my house horpe ocs loredump!! and as usual a bunch of the names in this story are placeholders because i'm just really bad at that orz i'm also picky af but if any of you have naming suggestions throw 'em out i'd love the help!!

these two are actually a reskin of my very early first sketch for rod and helicent before they developed into more fully fledged characters, so that's evident throughout!

🦋🛡

ser [first name pending] rivers

i've been affectionately calling this guy dogman! he's the bastard son of a minor lord from a serving house in the eastern riverlands. they're a very old house but they lost any of the holdings they gained ages ago and are a minor serving house like poole/cassel/mollen. he's not legitimized, but his father did claim him and raise him alongside his legitimate sons. dad had a deep and enduring affection for his mother and so too for their shared child. he sent the boy off to serve as a page at six and then as a squire at ten, hoping he could make something of himself.

he didn't.

dogman's huge. tall and broad and beefy. muscled like an aurochs to borrow a georgism. a real bear of a man to borrow another. he's got a wide, hooked nose, a heavy brow, and a downturned mouth. he smiles often and easily, and his teeth are yellow, sharp, and crooked. his large, heavy lidded eyes are a bright glistening black, and he wears his greying hair too long, past his midback. he's pale, with a greyish cast to his skin from years of hard living and going out mostly or only at night.

he abandoned his position as a squire at fifteen to kick around the free cities as a sellsword, traveling alone and earning money as hired muscle on the way. after a few short years he got overly fond of gambling and returned home with his tail tucked between his legs after giving up everything he had to pay off his debts. once home again he hunkered down, waiting to drink himself to death. he made money getting drunk strangers to bet on him in bar fights. he got harder and meaner than he'd already been. he was fierce, brutal and cruel, ill-tempered and rarely sober. meaner than a junkyard dog.

his father (doting, loving, hopeful) intervened and demanded he clean his act up and stop disgracing his house. not my house, is it? dogman countered. he was just as ungrateful, petty, and petulant for the rest of their fight. but dad won, in the end, and demanded that dogman raise himself to knighthood. he sobered up and made his way through a handful of tourneys. he competed well, and was charming enough to win some love from the crowds, but never good enough to win any titles or advance his cause. eventually his father (still doting, still loving, still hopeful) called in a few favors and placed a good number of bribes to get him his (ill-gained!! illegitimate!!) knighthood. (is it realistic that a serving house could buy a knighthood? idk. probably not. westeros' currency has never made any sense to me i have no idea what is and isn't expensive. but buying a knighthood instead of just lying about it feels like a grift only the wealthiest greathouses can run. well. maybe the septon was drunk and dogman's dad blew him. whatever. the truth of the matter is lost to time. maybe dogman says he's a knight when he's just a lying sellsword. who knows. he's a hedge knight of ill repute.)

dogman bumbled around as a hedge knight for a few years before joining the service of house horpe in the crownlands. and when he did, he met severine.

lady severine horpe

severine is the middle daughter of unnamed lord horpe and his lady wife. she was bright and curious as a child, precocious and adept. a perfectly capable but terminally lazy student. the type who nowadays would be said to never truly apply herself or empower herself to reach her full potential. a dreamy, adventurous girl with few real prospects as the middle child of a minor house without the charm, grace, or great beauty that might land her an advantageous marriage.

she is a small girl, with dark tightly curling hair and a thick coating of freckles across her brown skin. her eyes are a deep, luminous brown, the right subtly lighter than the left. you can't see the difference unless she's standing in direct sunlight.

she and dogman met in the yard of the horpe holdfast when she was nine and he was thirty six. severine came up to dogman as he was replacing his greaves and pointed at a big ugly scar on his left knee. how did you do that? she asked. man i was trying to kill twisted around when i didn't expect him to, dogman answered. wow, said severine, her warm brown eyes growing ten times their size, and did you still kill him? i did, said dogman, baring his teeth at her in a smile. severine's minder (a stout, red cheeked septa with straw colored hair and hazel eyes) scooped her up at this point, clucking out her apologies to the men in the yard whose practice time severine must have been interrupting.

they interacted sparingly throughout the rest of severine's childhood. sev definitely had a crush on the big ugly dude in her household guard who would always wink at her when he caught her staring. as she got older they interacted more, each of them making excuses to see the other as often as they could. dogman developed an unexpected soft spot for the girl who had no reason to be so boldly unafraid of him. in her later teens severine would ask that dogman be the one to accompany her whenever she left the holdfast to ride through the woods, and dogman would eagerly shirk any other assigned duties to be her personal guard. he told her bawdy stories about the free cities and she asked him a million questions about his rough and tumble youth to which he'd on the spot come up with colorful exaggerated lies.

severine expected to stay at her father's hall well into adulthood because she didn't have any stellar marriage prospects or a notable dowry. but when her eldest sister gwen was somehow married off to the second son of starfall (erudite connoisseurs of the @mylestoyne piaverse will recognize gwen as arthur dayne's lameass chewtoy nonkingsguard au wife we looooooooooove heeeeeeerrrr we feel baaaaadddd for herrrrr :(((( ) her father got ambitious about offering up his daughters to greater houses. i feel like he finds out pretty quickly that gwen's extreme upward marriage is hard to duplicate. he shops severine around a bit and receives a lot of eye rolls and less than polite declines. a middle daughter with a pittance dowry unnamed lord horpe? we'll pass. thank you for your ….boldness.

dogman accompanies severine and her father as they travel, and realizes he doesn't love the idea of her being shipped off to be the nothingwife of an unremarkable lord and bear his seventeenth-in-line-of-succession sons. because her sister did much better than that, after all. and if she's going to have no-prospect barely highborn no-inheritance sons they should be his. he makes mean crude jokes about severine's marriage prospects, and it makes her laugh despite the situation getting harder and harder to stomach as the "no"s keep rolling in.

eventually unnamed lord horpe gets bored of trying to replicate his dumb luck and finds severine a match on sweetport sound with house sunglass (pia, i made them both married to stars 🌟) with a third son. dogman asks to accompany her to sweetport as her personal guard, and unnamed lord horpe gives him a hard time about losing a man and who will replace him and what about this that and the other thing before telling him that severine came to see him that morning to request the same. it'll be good for her to have someone familiar to her, he says. she'll do better with some comfort of home.

severine's marriage to unnamed lord sunglass is uneventful. he isn't overtly cruel but he also isn't like. interested. they have a tepid political marriage and don't talk to one another very much. it's like. as fine as something like that could hope to be.

the actual interest i have in this story is the relationship between severine and dogman and the skulking around they do in the woods and along the coast and in the unused rooms of this new keep. they're both outsiders, now, and they both remind one another of home.

as reskins of helicent and rodwell their relationship is focused on the things that fell away from those two as they grew into their own characters. an improbable, cloying, and enduring closeness. a class divide the both of them like exaggerating. a nearly thirty year age gap. a big slavering junkyard dog of a man made suddenly tender and gentle by his love for a small, delicate girl. it's so tropey in here!! it's like a silent hill fog of all my favorite clichés has draped itself across the land!!

dogman's not that old, but he has a lot of old and serious injuries that bother him more when he moves to the cold rocky coast. severine likes tending to and fussing over him and he likes being babied. she likes reading out loud to him and doing care tasks for him that are beneath her station, like mending his clothes and helping him bathe. he jokes that he should've made her his squire when she was little and she laughs it off while knowing that she dreamed of doing exactly that when she was a young girl.

the thing that made their story snap into place for me is that i realized i don't want them to carry on their affair throughout severine's marriage indefinitely. after a few years (during which she does dutifully produce a few heirs for unnamed third sunglass son) dogman is like let me take you away from all this. we can run away. i've lived in the free cities i could do it again. and severine is like i have legitimate doubts about your ability to provide for the both of us. you descend into violent uncontrollable alcoholism pretty quickly when circumstances allow for it. and dogman's like well this time it'll be different. and severine is like i doubt that as well. but after a few back and forths and after she lists all her reasons to stay (i have children here! i've only ever known a life in westeros! i was passed from my father's house to my lord husband's! i couldn't make it on my own!) dogman like sadly admits defeat and is like fine. if you never want to leave then neither do i. if you don't trust me to take care of us both alone then neither do i. i'll die on this rocky shore standing a few paces behind you and your lord husband and your legitimate children. that's all the gods have planned for me. it's a better path to the grave than what i might've hoped for twenty years ago. and severine is like ok. let's leave tonight.

and they do. not that very night and not with only the clothes on their backs but soon after and without much else.

they escape under cover of night and live under false names in the free cities, probably taking far more precaution than needed. i don't think anyone would expend serious resources looking for them. it's probably a couple weeks before unnamed lord sunglass realizes his wife is missing.

and for a little while dogman makes good on his lofty promises to keep them fed and housed and safe. and then one day, because he makes his money doing dangerous, violent errands for people who don't want to dirty their own hands, he gets a spear through his left thigh. it shatters his femur and take a good healthy chunk out of his muscle. he's laid up for months, unable to walk even with assistance, and severine is too small to support his weight or help him get around.

dogman lives, and he is eventually able to walk medium distances with a cane, but from that point on he's dependent on severine for their joint survival.

i'm not certain what that looks like for them at this point!! it'll come to me eventually i am certain. but i love the concept of a dynamic that starts as "i will always be bigger and stronger than you and you will always be safe with me because i am capable, cunning, and adaptable enough for the both of us i will be your father figure put your tiny hand in mine i will be your preacher teacher anything you have in mind" and then in one horrible instant all of that disappears and something entirely new is forced to take its place.

[sol-consort]

I'm sorry but how does the model of propriety sobriety and piety ever so merciful Sir cop River Ward's crush on the mercenary V actually allign with his moral compass

like that's the stealing thieving murdering V, what gold-worthy mental gymnastics is that boy doing to justify his feelings? What is he gonna tell the rest of his badges friends when "bounty on head NY most wanted criminal scum" V shows up to the police department Christmas office party as his plus one?

Or is it another case of a man bagging a clubbing diva after meeting her wilding at the said club, then getting surprised and offended when she still wants to grove at the disco after they tie the knot. Is this a case of "I can fix her!" to River?

[abyssalpriest]

can i be borderline controversial and say that i do think there's a correlation between the love and adoration for the other kings, Leviathan's brutal honesty about grey-morality and involvement in war when you know him as Leviathan, and his lack of worshipers here under that name. the controversial part being that the other kings seem way more into propaganda flourishing and part of why i say that is because ive known both of them and they fucking do that oops hashtag UPG (PVG) spilled outta my pockets there

ie its always people who work for the other kings i see so caught up in how loving and pure the kings and ''demons'' are, and you COULD say that's just because Lev doesn't have many worshipers under that name but I think its more so because when you know "Leviathan" uhhhhh. like you could say lack of lev worshipers = lack of lev propaganda but i think its more so lev isnt going to pretend to be a beautiful siren man in a suit who tells you he loves you so so much even tho he just met you two seconds ago

[azullumi]

WHERE WE LIE ON THE EDGE OF SUMMER !!

premise— you didn’t think that being neighbors and childhood friends with scaramouche would come with many things. for one, you have a sassy loser pathetically in love with you. content tags & warning — pairing: scaramouche (w/ gender-neutral reader) | modern!au, childhood friends, puppy love, scaramouche can’t skip stones, secret pining (for scaramouche), scaramouche words of reassurance and act of service advocate, fluff, word vomit, unspoken confessions | wc: 4.8k ; one-shot

notes from a jellyfish — (repost) first fic for the eat your heart out event!! nearly lost my mind writing this, but enjoy!!

SCARAMOUCHE is a liar. 

No truths spill from his mouth, that much is certain. 

He could never understand how poets write the beauty of a single sway of grass in the wind nor see how artists condense a single moment into a small stroke of a brush and find it breathtaking when it will all be bound to rot, but he tells others that he does anyway because he is a liar.

His words would bloom withered in his mouth, a shameful garden of ache, and the petals would never feel the lingering warmth in his lips.

But he never liked the heat, the suffocating warmth, always preferring the winter cold. But it was summer when he first met you and he remembers your laughter as you threw pebbles across the water, your smile gently shaped by the warm sun.

i. standing in between here and there

“Are you okay?”

There was only a grimace of annoyance on his face when you turned to briefly look at him. 

It was summer once more and Scaramouche dreaded summer more than anyone could, much more so now that he’s spending this hot day with a stranger—a child of his aunt’s friend, who is also their neighbor. The combination of sitting under all this heat and being forced to get along with someone he doesn't know is deadly. He can't even remember what their name was. Perhaps they had uttered it once only for it to be lost among the pebbled path or to be drowned in the river.

He raises his eyebrow at you, “Is it not obvious enough?”

“What’s with this sassy lost child? Jeez.” You mumble more words underneath your breath, something along the lines of him being grumpy. The summer breeze brushes across your skin as you stare at the river, contemplating. Perhaps you were debating if this stone will reach farther than the frog who jumped across just now, or maybe you’re just thinking of the boy—who your mother had asked you to get along with—sitting silently on the grass behind you since earlier.

You throw one stone over the water. It bounces once and twice, the surface responding with small ripples, sliding across before eventually sinking. You do this many times and he watches you every single time, eyes seemingly unable to look away. But curiosity is a hungry monster that consumed him, so he speaks to rid of the itch that claws at his throat:

“What are you doing?”

“Stone skipping,” you paused, witnessing the stone jump only once before reuniting with its old friends at the bottom of the river, “wanna try?” You blink at him, waiting for his answer. There was silence then came a grumble. He stood up from his seat with an expression that makes it seem like you forced him to do so.

You handed the boy a pebble, but he had to stare at it for a few seconds before he took it from your hand. You waited with an expectant gaze, your mind somehow anticipating that he’ll do better than you—Scaramouche looks like he’s good at everything that he does.

Oh, but how your expectations came crumbling down the way your breakfast cookie fell into your glass of milk.

“Go on, throw it.” You had told him and you didn’t know that he was that much of an obedient child because he really did throw it. Just not aimed at the water. He threw it like how one would pass a ball to a friend; his stone didn’t even graze nor come near the surface of the water.

But Scaramouche had the same perseverance of a rock against the wind. He picked up a pebble and threw it once more; this time, it is now aimed at the water but it only went straight ahead, sinking slowly to the bottom.

You don’t think you’re in the right time to say anything, so you just stood still and watched the struggle of a young boy who had a small stone in his hand, with the occasional rustling of leaves as the breeze passes and with the sound of a splash prodding at the silence that envelops you like a familiar companion. You wanted to go and teach him how he’s supposed to do it, that there is a certain angle that he has to reach and he’s not supposed to throw it just as it is, but your mind seems to tell you not to so you didn’t. It’s all quite a spectacular watch, after all, it was as if you were watching your favorite show at 7 PM after waiting hours for it to go on air.

No matter how many times Scaramouche tries to throw and make the pebble bounce across the river, it always just sinks the first time it comes into contact with the surface. He’s silent, but the frustration is evident in the scrunch of his eyebrows and the increasing aggression in his movements.

“Oh, wow, you’re terrible at this.” You were the first to break the silence—your words seem to have stabbed his unyielding spirit as he groaned and just went back to where he was sitting. An act of surrender after struggling for so long.

”You don’t want to try again?”

“Why should I?” The pebble will only sink anyway. What’s the point of doing something when you know you’ll fail in the end?

“Come on, just try it once more.” But you were a stubborn one and Scaramouche doesn’t have much of a choice, not when you’re already right in front of him, taking his hands into yours and pulling for him to stand up. You drag him back to where he was earlier, still holding one of his hands even as you pick up a pebble right at your feet.

“Here, do it like this.” Your hand is warm against his, gentle, in contrast to the crumpled look on his face. You guide him, saying words that he can’t process that much as he’s way too focused trying to fan the flames that danced across his cheeks.

He throws, in the same angle and form that you have guided him into before you had stepped back to watch, holding hope that he’ll succeed this time in the same hand you held him. The stone doesn’t immediately celebrate with his other failed attempts at the bottom as it bounces against the surface. 

You cheered, the sound of laughter slipping out of your lips as it seemed to tickle the insides of your mouth the more you held it in. There’s a certain feeling of warmth that washed over him when the melody rings inside his head. The roughness of the feeling, sharp in its unfamiliar edges, is akin to a huge wave that crashed into his form, but the comfort of it as it submerges him reminds him of the afternoon light shining on the floors of his home.

“It only bounced once.” He says, trying to downplay it all to get rid of the feeling that consumes him.

“But it did. That’s what matters, doesn’t it?” The feeling only seemed to grow stronger as if it’s feeding on your every word, being fuelled by your gaze, by your smile, by the sound of your voice. He tries to drown it all by thinking of other thoughts, diving into a different topic instead, and all the while, copying you as you resume your stone-skipping activities.

“Do you not get bored doing this?”

You hum, contemplating for a few seconds before you answer: “I think everything is a little more fun when you do it during summer,” you beam at him, then return your gaze back to the river before you throw, “Like this, especially when you’re doing it with someone.”

To be honest, he doesn’t even understand what you’re saying. This childlike mindset—although, for one, you and him are just a pair of children, playing beside the river, feeling the heat prickling against your skin. The bugs only grow louder in each second that passes as the afternoon slowly comes to the pass, replaced with the onset of the evening. The sky is painted with various colors mixed together but all in harmony, oranges and reds mixed with something golden, tainted with purples.

And yet, he would always ask himself, what is even nice about summer?

“I don’t know why but maybe I’m just saying that because I like summer,” you say as if you had read his mind, as if you had noticed the lingering question on his face that asks you why. “Do you like summer?”

It takes him a moment to answer, letting the orchestra of the wind against leaves, of the stone splashing against water, of the cicada’s song last longer than his silence. He could have said no, he could have disagreed with you and argued with your answer. He could have said that he despised summer for its heat and bugs. But he didn’t and that was the problem.

“I… like summer.” There are razors in his tongue as he speaks, the utterance of the sentence making him bleed internally as he bites on his words. Perhaps the hesitation in his tone betrays his words or perhaps it was the twitch of his lips paired with the contort of his forehead that made it appear as untruthful as it actually was.

Even so, you were convinced. You gleam at him, eyes bright with excitement: “Really? You don’t seem to be one to like summer.”

“I do, why would you say that?”

You shrug, “You just seem like a winter person to me.”

That wasn’t exactly a lie. In fact, that was the whole truth and the actual lie was him saying that he likes summer. He still doesn’t understand himself for saying such words—maybe it’s the heat getting into his head or maybe it's the sound of your laughter that plays over and over inside his mind.

It feels like having a crush—He slaps himself mentally at the notion.

“We should always spend summer together then.” You’ll say, watching a pebble bounce across until it reaches the other side. A feat you have only achieved twice—the second time being this moment. You silently rejoiced for your success, clenching your hand into a fist.

He responds, “So we could just watch stones bounce on water the whole time?” and this made you chuckle before you refute: “Unless you want to, but there are tons of other things to do during summer.”

This went on and on: you, just listing out whatever activities you could do and saying whatever, and him, who listens to every word you say and would give you short responses. It is not until dusk had ended and the evening came, and now, you’re standing by the doorway, saying your goodbyes to the boy who’s terrible at stone-skipping.

“You don’t even know my name, do you?”

“I do.”

You laugh, “Liar.”

ii. take a step closer, won’t you?

Summer came to visit like an old friend you had known for years.

It’s a fleeting companion, a familiar stranger bound to disappear, gone as the wind carries your scent. The sun kisses your skin very delicately, the grass will hold your being as if you were its own child, and you will miss its embrace the moment it slips out of your hands quietly. But there’s a strange comfort welling up in your heart knowing that you will feel it once more in time and you won’t have to spend a lifetime missing it—or him.

“What are you being so slow for?” The dark-haired man stops from his track and turns to look at you, his eyebrows furrowed and his lips formed into a frown. “The sun will set before we even reach the river.” It’s the mayor of complaintown, throwing his usual complaints at you. You could only roll your eyes before you run to him, catching up to his pace before the two of you resume walking.

Scaramouche, somehow, kept his promise. Although it’s not exactly a promise because the two of you didn’t make any, he did keep his word of spending every summer with you. And right now, you’re in the middle of walking through the forest near your home—an adventure, you may say, despite the fact that you have taken this path multiple times already and you’re just returning to the place where the two of you usually spend your moments under the summer sun.

The gentle murmurs of the rushing water reach your ears, eventually getting louder as the two of you draw close to your destination. Not sooner than later, a familiar scene comes into view: the small river—a stream, to be exact—in all its glory displayed before you, a path of water stretching from here to there across your line of vision, carrying memories of when the two of you played around it.

There’s a small smile embedded on your lips. It’s the thought that it's only the two of you that knows of this place that makes you warm—it’s like a secret place for you and him.

You come close to the body of water, crouching down, staring at your rather unclear image by the water, and making out the contours and edges of your face. You try to reach out to your reflection, disturbing the surface with the tip of your fingertips, and you watch as it ripples underneath your hand. Although you’re way too focused on whatever you are doing that you forgot the existence of the boy who came here with you.

“Are you just planning on staring at the water all day long?” Scaramouche says as he crouches down beside you. He speaks as if he didn’t spend his time staring at you, admiring the way the sun holds you in its embrace, while thinking that he could just look at you for hours without getting bored.

You hum, “I really don’t know what else to do now,” you draw something on the water, the surface coming in creases.

“I thought you said there are a lot of things to do in the summer.”

“Yeah, but we already did nearly all of them.” You grumble, turning to look at him with a troubled expression. Indigo orbs meet yours in a gentle gaze; Scaramouche’s gaze, tender and soft, doesn’t often match the harsh bite of his words. It leaves you wondering, confused, if this is just his way of showing that he cares or if there’s something more. But you don’t like thinking about it—fools base their thoughts on foolish assumptions, and you are no fool.

If only you know what festers underneath his skin. Looking at you like this, honey light against your skin, he thinks you’re beautiful—the word isn’t even enough to capture the essence of your being. The world seemingly held its breath for this moment as everything came to a still except for the wind that brushes against your face. He is foolishly and utterly starstruck by the existence of you, as if you were meant to be in this place, to experience this small, fleeting moments with him, to be bathed under sunlight, to breath in the air of your surrounding, the feel the coldness of water against your feet—to live.

There's you and his mere image being reflected by your eyes, and he tries to see into the waters of your gaze for something that is akin to the just adoration he holds for you, hoping that you hold him under the same light too. He may speak of words that hold no meaning, no truth, but his feelings for you are intense and unwavering that it consumes him. Won’t you pull him a little closer?

You break the stillness, your surroundings seemingly coming back to life with the sound of your voice: “What are you thinking now?”

“Just how stupid you look.” The boy answers. Liar.

You acted as if you were offended by his statement, letting out a gasp and even placing your hand over your chest to show that you were quote on quote, hurt. He only rolls his eyes at your performance.

You jest, “Why are you so grumpy? Do you just hate being with me?”

“Stop assuming things, I didn’t say anything like that.” His attention is now to the river, watching as the stream flows and as the rocks remain unmoving.

You grab this moment to take advantage of his vulnerability and inattention. Snickering, you scoop a handful of water before splashing it to him, drenching him in the process. At the sight, laughter bubbles from your throat—he reminded you of a wet chick.

“So we're playing this game?”

“You started it.” You grin, splashing him once more but this time, he was able to shield himself from your attack.

“Oh, yeah?”

“Cold!” You exclaim as he repays you the favor.

It became a battle between you two. You’ll splash him with a handful and he’ll only retaliate after like two or three of your attacks, and even so, he’ll only fight back with only so little. Nevertheless, water drips from your head, down to your face and he, too, is left there on the side of the river with you, completely drenched and with his clothes sticking to his skin. His gaze is on you and yours are on him, and the two of you break into laughter—you think you’ll remember the sound of yours and his tangled together forever.

For a moment, it felt like the two of you were children once more.

“Ah, now we’re both wet.”

Scaramouche flicks your forehead, earning a groan from you. “And whose fault is that?”

“Yours, duh.” You sneeze as soon as you finish your sentence. Scaramouche doesn’t fail to notice you tremble, hugging your knees close to your chest as if to quell the growing chill. 

He abruptly stands up, and you watch him as heads over to where his bag is. He’s been carrying that since earlier and you’ve been curious as to what it contains—you didn’t get the chance to ask him earlier but now, your question is going to be answered. 

You follow after, standing and peering behind him to see the contents. Your eyes are able to make out a water bottle and some snacks—were those your favorite?—among the pile of things. Albeit you didn’t get to see anymore of it as he turned around and placed something on top of your head, obscuring your vision.

You realized it was a towel when he started to gently rub your hair and the side of your face with it, drying you with the soft fabric.

“I didn’t know you had that much prepared.” You comment, letting him seemingly take care of you. Sometimes, it feels like you’re indebted to him with how much he looks after and cares for you. It feels unfair; you take so much from him and he never takes anything from you. He never lets himself indulge, settling on here and there, but never by you. You wish he would come close, he wishes you’ll hold him closer.

“I think we’re going to get sick after this.” You ask with worry lacing your tone; the water was cold and none of you brought any spare clothes, save for the towel he had prepared. And while he’s the one who got drenched the most, he’s here, focusing on you instead. 

(You’ll always find yourself being bathed underneath all of his attention, whether you notice his gaze or not.)

“You’re the only one getting sick between the both of us.” He answers, draping the towel all over your shoulders before he goes and takes out a smaller towel to dry himself. There’s a small pout on your face when you hear his words—you can’t say anything in retort.

“Are we going home now?”

“If you want to, that is.”

The sun is already setting and darkness is slowly creeping into the day as time passes. Your surroundings are dyed with a warm golden, fading into blue. The animals that dwell in the night are revealing themselves as the ones who thrive during the day are returning to rest. Eventually, you also have to go home too. Exhaustion has seeped into you, settling into your weary bones.

“Can you carry me?”

“What? Can’t you walk on your own?”

“Oh, please, almighty Scaramouche. My legs are hurting and I’m tired.” Your hands are clasped together as you speak, batting your eyelashes at him.

Scaramouche could have complained a little more, dismissed your request, and walked back on his own, but he didn’t. And it’s not like he did not want to, but he just could not. How could he ever deny you? You were all that he could ask for, you were only asking him for one thing. Rejecting you at this moment was just like turning away from you—even though he knows that you’re most likely bluffing and are capable of your own. 

(But, oh, he’s simply nothing without you. After all, you make up half of his soul even if he’s not even a fragment of yours.)

“You’re so troublesome.” You’re his favorite problem anyway.

Dusk is settling in the corners of the forest, and in the midst of the trees and along with the harmony of cicadas, is you and Scaramouche. The dark-haired man carries you on his back while you keep him occupied with your chatter of whatever that comes to your mind.

And just as he notices every small thing about you, you can’t ignore the dark hue his skin is painted in:

“Your ears are red.”

He takes a few seconds, mumbling, “It’s too hot.”

(Maybe it’s summer that is warm, or maybe it’s you.)

The next day, however, Scaramouche got sick and you had to nurse him back to his health—out of worry and guilt. Although you held that fact over your head, treating it as some sort of trophy.

iii. aren’t we already close enough?

Something knocks at Scaramouche’s window.

That’s how most horror movies start, but this is no horror movie, and it doesn’t take much for him to know that it was just his neighbor trying to grab his attention.

Another knock came. He heads towards the noise, pushing the curtains aside, and immediately seeing you across in your own room, standing by your open window. Upon seeing the man, you enthusiastically wave at him.

You mouthed, even doing some hand gestures to throw your message across to him: “Do you wanna watch the stars with me?”

It seems like he didn’t understand what you were trying to say as he only stares at you with a confused expression. You sighed and gestured for him to wait, disappearing from his line of sight for a moment before returning with a pen and paper in your hand; you scribble something on it and he watches you with a curious gaze.

With your words written by ink, a few of it crossed out, it reads: Let’s go stargazing.

He mouths, “Right now?” In which you responded with a nod and a smile. Then you return to your pad in hand, turning to new page before writing:

There’s going to be a meteor shower tonight. Let’s watch it together.

Scaramouche puts down his reply on his paper that he has gotten as you were writing.

Where? 

The forest has a small clearing, it’s perfect for stargazing.

Right, and why are we talking like this?

It’s more fun this way and I don’t want to wake people up.

So, do you wanna go???

Okay. Yeah.

YAY !!! I’ll meet you outside.

But just as you were about to leave, he threw his pen at your window, an attempt to grab your attention although he did end up startling you.

It’s cold.

Wear something warm.

You beam at his display of his concern and give him an ‘Okay’ sign.

A few minutes flies by and you come out, jacket in hand. A certain man, with hair as dark as midnight, greets you. He’s clad in sweatpants and an oversized shirt, layered with a jacket on top—he was dressed comfily, as if he were planning on sleeping prior to this.

“Were you planning on going to sleep?”

“I was, until you called.”

“You could have just turned me down. I don’t mind watching the meteor shower alone.” You feel guilt rising in your chest, looking down at the ground you were rooted on. Thoughts whirl like a hurricane, creating a vortex of doubt that wreaks havoc inside your head. You don’t know what’s wrong with you, feeling all of these all at once over a simple and small thing. You were the one to insist, always the first one to come barging into his door.

But somewhere between your thoughts and his own, between loving you and adoring you, he knows you in ways that no one could. You’re the only one he ever knows.

“You’re not bothering me,” Scaramouche ruffles your head, messing up your hair. He speaks in the same note of his touch, soft and gentle, and it feels foreign and familiar at the same time; you want this, you could get used to this—the small thought that remains inside your mind echoes as he dispels all of your worries with just a few of his words. “Besides, I also wanted to watch the meteor shower.” With you.

“Really?”

“Where’s the stubborn and strong person who’ll drag me out of my room every summer that I know?” He flicks your forehead, making you wince and rub the spot to ease the pain. He adds, a small smile etching into the curves of his lips, “You were the one to say that everything is better when you do it with someone.”

“Well—”

“There’s no need to worry over such useless things,” He heaves out a sigh, “If I hated you, you would have known.”

He doesn’t know what took over him to have his hand seek out your face, caressing your face so tenderly like a lover would. The dance of his fingers left a trail of warmth across your skin, blooming and spreading like fire, and maybe it was your fault or maybe it was his that your face leans closer to his touch as if desiring for more of his softness. He doesn’t fail to notice the look on your face, the fire that festers within you spreading to him.

Scaramouche is mesmerized by the miracle that is you. 

He clears his throat, looking away, afraid that he’s going to be consumed by your light the more he keeps his gaze on you:

“Let’s go before we end up missing it.” His tone falters into something sweet, and his hand, too, falls into something kind—his fingers slipping into your own. You could only nod your head in response, afraid that your words would break in your tongue before you could even speak.

It doesn’t take long to reach the spot you were talking about. But it did feel like time moved slowly with the silence as neither of you let go of each other’s hand; you battled with your reasoning, thinking that it will help you walk better in the dark and not trip over anything even when you’re already familiar with the path. Or maybe it was just too cold, you don’t know; it’s not like you want to let go either.

(And in the same cadence of your thoughts, his soul whispers to you: “I don’t think I want to stop holding your hand.”)

Tonight, the stars are a witness to the wake of something foolishly beautiful. As the streaks of light fill the sky like a stroke of a painter’s brush on an empty canvas, lush grass forms into nothing as it sinks beneath your being, intertwined with his as he clutches your hand tight—the sky holds the stars as the earth bears your weight all the same. When the warm breeze leaves and when life all becomes nothing in the absence of indigo merging into golden, can you stand with him a little closer underneath the fading warm?

“Kuni.” What does his name taste like in your mouth?

“Hm?”

Scaramouche isn’t stupid, but you make him feel stupid, and he loves you stupid, like a loser stumbling over the stars in your eyes. He understands why poets write the mundane and how artists portray a fleeting moment bound to rot by time. It doesn’t take much but he spent a long time seeking comfort in the warmth to know the answer—he knew what it was when he wished you were with him to enjoy the sun.

You reside in the deeper parts of his soul, tangled in the loose threads of his being. Scaramouche prays—even when he doesn’t necessarily believe, but what is a god’s gaze for your love?—to whoever is listening that you’ll stay there forever. Can a human ever stop their heart from wanting? 

“Don’t you want to go home now?” You had asked him; the meteor shower has finished and the clouds are already hiding the vast blanket of stars above you. There’s not much left in this night, just silence and a pair of people who had nothing and everything at the same time, lying on the grass as if they’re the only ones who matter in the world. He has always existed right there beside you and he has belonged to you in ways that you may never know.

“I’m still not sleepy yet.” But his mouth gapes into a yawn and you laugh.

“Liar.”

Call him whatever you want, he just wants to stay with you a little longer.

Scaramouche may be a liar.

But he likes you, that much is certain.

taglist: @felibrary, @yunicide, @bittersweetmiko

© AZULLUMI 2024. plagiarism of any form and type, stealing, copying, translating, reposting my works on other platforms is NOT permitted.

[f1cflcfic]

The Prophecy (SMAU ft. Lando Norris): Epilogue

pairing: lando norris x singer!reader (fem!y/n)

summary: what happens after the break-up that noone saw coming? as Y/N L/N gears up to release her next album, each song reveals a little bit of the past, present and future of her relationship with Lando Norris. Inspired by a curated playlist built around "The Prophecy".

note: this is RPF and is obviously in no way, shape, or form reflective of real persons. also, this chapter contains some (implicit) references to sex.

genre: social media au (with written parts), angst, exes to lovers, happy ending

[A/N: hehe it's never really over, this is for my bff who just got engaged over the weekend <3]

part i part ii part iii part iv part v part vi

♥･*:.｡ ｡.:*･ﾟ♡･*:.｡ ｡.:*･ﾟ♥

June, 2027

[Excerpt from Y/N L/N's Buzzfeed Playing with Puppies Interview]

Y/N is sitting down on the floor, enthusiastically chatting to someone off camera. “Listen Roz I’m so serious, you’re going to have to physically incapacitate me when I want to take them all home. It will happen, and you will need to stop me.”

Someone from the crew giggles, as they instruct Y/N to readjust her lavalier microphone.

“Alright, so it’s super easy – you just sit there, and we bring the pups to you!”

“Oh my god. This is my dream. I always say to my friends that I’d just really love to be in a puppy pile, and it’s finally happening. The pinnacle of my career. This is why I became a singer,” she chatters, then gasps as the first puppies are brought out.

“Oh hiiii,” she almost whimpers at the sight of them, some a little more active, others a little sleepy. One immediately snuggles into her lap, and Y/N looks off-camera to someone meaningfully. “I am taking him home.” Someone can be heard laughing and saying “no, you can’t” in response, to which Y/N sighs in defeat.

“So, can you tell us who you are, and what you do”

“My name’s Y/N L/N, and I’m a singer-songwriter. But today I’m a professional puppy cuddle buddy.”

“Here’s your first question – you mentioned recording a song in Taylor Swift’s studio for the Prophecy. What does it look like?”

“Oh my – oh they smell so good I swear, I’m so sorry I didn’t hear a word you said.” The interviewer repeats the question, as Y/N tries really hard to maintain eye contact with them instead of the puppies roaming around her.

“It’s a really beautiful space, a sanctuary, really. And it’s just amazing to think that so many iconic songs and albums have been partially written and recorded there as well. Taylor is a wonderful friend to have in this industry, and – oh just look at this little guy. He’s so cute!!!”

“Second question: You’re in the middle of a world tour right now. What was your own first tour that you remember going to?”

“Oh look at this one, he’s just playing around, such a little goofball. Sorry, sorry – the question. My first concert? You know it was probably some type of children’s act? My parents aren’t super into music, so the first time I went to see someone and paid for the ticket myself, it was probably Taylor actually.”

“Third question: You said you’re into reading. What’s your latest recommendation?”

“I try to read, yeah! It’s so easy to get sucked into my phone, but I always bring books and an e-reader. Oof, careful little guy, those tiny teeth are sharp,” she disentangles her finger from a puppy’s mouth, then hugs him close to her chest and kisses his head. “I love you, don’t worry. So, yeah, what was I saying? I think with reading I’m always in two minds about it. I enjoy literary fiction, but I also love fantasy. So I recently started There Are Rivers in the Sky from Elif Shafak, and then I’ve been re-reading the Fourth Wing series by Rebecca Yarros. Love that dragon. Maybe we should name you Tairn, or Xaden,” Y/N points at a puppy with dark fur and brown eyes.

“Do they all have names already? All of them are up for adoption, right? But surely these personalities – ah okay. His name’s Lewis?” She smiles cheekily, but doesn't comment further.

One of the dogs lets out a pitiful little whine, and Y/N immediately looks down. “What’s up little pup? Are you unhappy? Can we get them some water, some snacks?”

Someone steps in with a bowl of water, then asks the next question. “What’s something you do to relax on your days off?”

“Hmm aside from reading? Honestly, I love to just hang out with my family. Go do minigolf, something fun together.”

“Not actual golf?”

Y/N snorts, her fingers absentmindedly petting the puppies that have since fallen asleep in her lap. “My partner has tried to get me into it, and I love how much he enjoys it, but it’s not for me. So I’ll happily drive the golf cart and cheer him on instead.”

“Are you not competitive?”

You scrunch your nose at the word. “I think I am, but I’m more scared of others thinking I’m not good enough – so then I abandon serious pursuit of victory. If it’s just a laugh, then it’s fine if you’re not great at something. It’s something I’m working on!”

She kisses one of the pups that’s woken up from its nap on his tiny nose. “I love you, you, you’re such a tiny little angel aren’t you?”

“Alright, next question: If you were in an emergency situation, who would you call to bail you out?”

“Probably Lando. He’d be fast, you know?” Y/N smiles at the camera. “By the way, he’s going to be SO jealous of me for getting to hang out with pups all day.”

“If you weren’t a singer-songwriter, what do you think you’d be doing?”

“Hmm, I’d probably have gone to university – maybe literature, or maybe political science. Then I’d go work for an NGO? I’d love to know I was making a difference in people’s lives I think.”

“Last question – what are you most looking forward to?”

“Aside from the new, upgraded tour? I can’t believe I’ll be playing stadiums. That feels very surreal. Apart from that, we’re getting some renovations done on the house right now and I’m super excited to see my library fantasy come to life. I want to have a ladder on wheels.”

You quietly stroke the fur of a red and white puppy that’s been curled up in your lap since the beginning. “I’m going to cry having to give these back. But I’m going to, I will. It’d be irresponsible to adopt a dog right now, maybe next year we’ll get on that. Please, if you are able and willing, adopt these sweet little puppies – and I will personally come by and hangout with your pup and you.”

The screen fades to black, and then there’s a shaky camera that follows Y/N as she laughs while talking on the phone. “I know! I said you would,” she’s overheard saying. “There’s one in particular, I just – ” she trails off, listening to whatever’s being said on the other end of the line. “Do you really think so?” Her smile widens. “I love you so much, you have no idea,” she nods excitedly at her assistant and starts walking towards the animal shelter representative. “Yeah I’ll keep you posted, say hi from me to your brother and Sav please. Ok, see you. Bye.”  

August 14th, 2027

December 8th, 2027

June 18th, 2028

♥･*:.｡ ｡.:*･ﾟ♡･*:.｡ ｡.:*･ﾟ♥

You can read the previous parts & access various bonus content by going here

♥ likes, comments, reblogs are always very much appreciated ♥

taglist (open) : @charlesgirl16, @linnygirl09, @hoeforsirius, @motorsportloverf1, @sarx164, @idkimbadwithusernamesandstuff, @formulaal, @tvdtw4ever @sadiemack9 @seonghwaexile @screamingwines

[kimingyuslover]

You once mentioned his group name, and now he's down bad for you. The worst part? his teammates seem to always tease him about it, but the best part? you answer his message.

★ okay, so finally, the third part (i only have ideas at night, but i sometimes can't be a night owl)

previous | next | main masterlist

YOU MAKE ME WANNA MAKE YOU FALL IN LOVE ⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅

Saturday, 25th January 2023

Seungcheol can't lie, the dinner was first awkward and he didn't even know why you're saying yes to his invitation, but he should be grateful because if you say no the members will most likely bullies the shit out of him.

Some time passes and the atmosphere between you becoming more comfortable, no more stiff position, just a chill coversation while waiting for your food to came.

"Do you have any plans if you're not being a singer right now?" Seungcheol asked curiously after swallowing his food.

You chew yours for a second before answering him, "I actually have a business degree on Yonsei, so if i'm not a singer, i'd be most likely to follow my father career, he have his own company business"

"Oh! I heard you already finished your master degree at Anyang. That's so cool, I want to continue to have my master's degree, but my schedule is too packed, so i don't find any time to study"

Well, the conversation flows smoothly like a river. There's both of your occasional laugh when each of you says something hilarious.

After you finished, he insisted on paying the bill since he's the one who brought you here.

And while you appreciate the nice thing he does, you still feel bad, and so you bought a desert for him to take home.

Seungcheol is first politely declined the nice gesture, but being a stubborn you are, you tell him to take the desert for awhile because you have something on you.

When he does just that, you open your mouth, "The desert is yours! You already hold it. I don't want to take it back" which he chuckled at, and then he said that he really appreciated it and will eat it with his members.

At first, he thought you had gone here by a cab, but you told him that you brought your own car and you parked it in the basement.

So he walks down with you to the underground because he also bring his car here.

You both then send each other a goodbye and you drive to your own house with your own car.

What you don't know is that there's a paparazzi there, ready to take your photos and making it the cover of the news hours later.

[⋆✴︎˚｡⋆]

"How's your date?" Seungcheol jumped when he heard that, his older brother is sitting infront of the TV with kkuma, his dog.

Seungcheol frowns, "You're scaring me, and no, that's not a date" His brother finally detached his eyes from the television, looking at Seungcheol with a teasing glance.

"Your members have been so fussy about this, and they say it was a date. Also, they say that you only met her this once despite there's no interaction between both of you before this"

Of course, his members are the nosy people ever, so he just rolled his eyes at his brother before going to his room to change his clothes and also, change your profile pictures because he got that perfect shot earlier.

He smiled when he looked at the photos, and you both even took pictures together, a very couple coded photos in fact.

He will secretly put it on his wallet after he prints it so he can see a beautiful scenery when it was his turn to pay the bills for an outing

[⋆✴︎˚｡⋆]

Meanwhile, you still flustered by Seungcheol's gestures earlier, covering the bills, taking pictures together, and even holding your hand while you're going down on stairs.

You always remember yourself that it's just a friendly act between junior & senior, because the fellow actors that in the drama you starred also does that to you.

But this time, you feel your heart thumping loudly against your ribcage, and you think you drunkenly inlove with him.

Like, it's understandable, right? who doesn't love an enigma male named Seungcheol, who's 178cm with that big ass bicep, and let's not start with the way he looks at you because you might die.

There's a several misscall from your friends, Jiwoong, Kevin, even Juyeon. So you decided to open your sns, and what you looking at right now makes you want to poke your eyeballs.

How can they have your photos taken and in the basement, too? you remember Seungcheol said that the restaurant offers a very private dining experience, but how can this paparazzi take pictures of you?

So open your imess, text Seungcheol abiut the rumors, you don't want to ruin his career, so you got to act quick.

While doing that, you ask your management team through the group chat, and they were all pretty laid back about the news since you're not in the K-Pop industry, nevertheless they still told you to contact Seungcheol regarding this rumors.

[bedupolker]

PLAYLIST. @viv13drainbow I think if you like that song in particular you'd also really enjoy Summer Salt, Little Joy, and Babe Rainbow for chill beach-y rock (not included). Commentary below:

The Blue Album - The album to start all albums, the album that launched weezer to success. Many hail this as their best album (I love this album but respectfully disagree) but nonetheless it's an essential for weezer fans and alt rock fans as a whole. Plenty of people who know way more about music than I do have praised blue album at length, and it's a funny meme nowadays too. Of course say it ain't so is an all-time classic, a heart-wrenching look into Rivers's relationship with alcoholism and his parental figures. I dunno if anything on the blue album can be called a proper deep cut, but only in dreams is an overlooked gem, and probably my favorite outro in their whole discography. Hopeful but somber, that slow buildup a the end to the guitar solo. Suzanne is a nice B-side.

Pinkerton - the infamous Pinkerton. Their sophomore album. Their breakdown album. Although weezer's not exactly an emo band, this album is often credited to being influential to the genre as a whole. No two people have the same experience with love or breakups, and one of the beautiful things about art is that we can see an experience through anothers' eyes, but I don't think I can think of a more painfully relatable album than this one. The balancing act of portraying its sympathetically-unsympathetic protagonist as equal parts pathetic and lonely while also entitled and aggressive. Some of the vocals are so raw for a second you see the monster in the five foot six, nerdy, physically disabled, lead singer that he sees himself as. Hard for me to pick a favorite standalone song off this one; the good life is a funky jam that wouldn't be out of place next to wheatus or RCHP's tracks, but that's where all the funk ends. Why bother? is a driving, catchy song that starts to show the cracks of his depression, falling for you is full of emotion, and if you get your hands on the deluxe edition, tragic girl.

Green album - At its time of release, Pinkerton was not received well. Creating such a raw, personal piece of art is hard. It's like the artistic version of getting crazy drunk, pouring your heart out, feeling catharsis for a moment, then realizing you'll have to deal with it all the next day. A lot of people interpret island in the sun as a happy song, but to me it's the tylenol after that night of drinking, a lie to tell yourself just to get through the day. It has a peaceful rhythm and brings to mind a tropical paradise, but there's something undeniably melancholy beneath the sunshine and smiles. You've tried to face your pain and you barely escaped alive, maybe you're better off just ignoring it. (That being said, although the damage has been done, Pinkerton has later been reevaluated and is now as widely praised as the Blue Album amongst music critics, and Rivers himself has made peace with that phase in his life.)

Maladroit - Overall this album is rather overlooked. It leans a bit more heavily into the rock aspect compared to green album, yet the lyrics remain impersonal and goofy. It's still not a bad album, though doesn't reach the heights of the first two. The singles, Dope Nose & Keep Fishing are both solid, but Burndt Jamb is my personal favorite. A little beach-y, probably their Stroke-y est song, (the band, not the medical emergency), it's been a mainstay on several of my chill out playlists for years now.

Make Believe - Probably one of their most hated albums by fans. It has the infamously shallow and poppy beverly hills, but you know what? I'm a Make Believe Defender. I truly think it could've been a great album, maybe even on par with Pinkerton. Not because of the album itself, but the demos. Haunt you Everyday is solid on the final product but rips at my heartstrings in this demo, ditto for tell me what you did (different name on the final product), everybody wants a chance to be alone (I said burndt jamb was their strokiest song but I think it might actually be this one) purple flowers (lyrics are a little rough but the melody, the meloncholy... so good) Actually on that note, weezer has, like, multiple album's worth of unreleased content that's miles better than anything on a published album (Link for one of my favorite fan compilations). Yes, the lyrics sound like something I wrote in my diary after a breakup, but that makes them all the more real. A deep dive into weezer will reveal the terrifying truth we've all been blind to: weezer never got bad.

Red Album - Mixed feelings on this one. It was produced by Rick Rubin, industry titan and famous for bringing bands "back from the dead," he's produced more than one of my all time favorite albums. Red is not one of them unfortunately. It has its fans though. Pork and Beans is fun.

Raditude, Hurley, Death to False Metal - Skipping these bc I don't care abt them

Everything will be alright in the end - To fans, this was their first "good" album since Maladroit, maybe since Pinkerton (12 years prior!) depending on who you ask. Although it wasn't as commercially successful as some others, it's a very strong album. Really, what is it about rock bands forgetting they're rock bands then suddenly returning to releasing rock music and magically being good again?? I'm looking @ you too, fall out boy. I have a hard time picking a really standout song- it's one of those albums that's evenly good throughout, no skips, but no obvious standouts either. Da Vinci is fun.

White Album - A fantastic album. You can hear some pretty heavy beach boys influence in this one. Unlike EWBAITE it has a few skips for me, but the highs are very high. Speaking of high. Do you wanna get high has to be my favorite off this one, Endless Bummer could be a sequel to island in the sun, Summer Elaine and Drunk Dori is just good clean weezy fun.

Pacific Daydream - I'm a Pacific Daydream defender. Check out QB blitz. Weekend Woman is flawed, but fun too, the bridge really makes it for me. Very evocative of Good Vibrations by the beach boys.

Teal Album - Oh god a cover album. No Scrubs is probably the only one really worth checking out if nothing else to hear a geeky white guy say "A scrub is a guy who thinks he's fly" like he's reading it out of a dictionary. (TLC, who wrote and performed the original song, allegedly got a kick out of it)

Black Album & Van Weezer - I don't care about these either. Damnit I thought we were gonna be good again!

Ok Human - A good album!! What a relief. Could you imagine how embarrassing it would be to name yourself as a homage such a groundbreaking radiohead album and have it be.... bad??? I particularly love this one because in some ways it feels like it's his most personal album since Pinkerton- only instead of being an honest dialogue from a horribly lonely and isolated 20 year old student, it's a much more well adjusted, happily married, 50 year old father who is subject to both optimism and ennui. And it rocks! In a soft, subdued way. The songs flow into each other so nicely, the first three in the album debatably are my favorite 3-song-run in their discog. Aloo Gobi and Grapes of Wrath especially. The transition from dark and somber Dead Roses to light and upbeat Here Comes the Rain never gets old to me. This album (alongside MGMT's little dark age and The Stroke's The New Abnormal) was also like my essential Coronavirus holy trinity.

Spring/Summer/Fall/Winter - This is a compilation of 4 EP's, one of each released during their respective seasons in 2022. I think it's solid all around, with Summer being the strongest. Records and Blue Like Jazz are both very catchy, Thank you and Goodnight... just wait for the outro, trust me.

[mafiadad5]

Interminable || mark lee

No matter how much you claim you don’t want someone, or force your feelings away, you can never hide the truth

Genre- non idol au, friends to lovers, angst, smut, fluff, slow burn

paring- mark lee x fem!reader

Warnings- heavy angst, protected sex (mdni), mentions of alcohol, sex under the influence of alcohol (consensually), heartbreak, swearing, tw- mentions of death.

Mark is green and reader is blue/ white !

Word count- 12k

Playlist- kingston - faye webster / take a chance with me - niki / intro (end of the world) - ariana grande / a new kind of love - frou frou, imogen heap, guy sigsworth / a night to remember - beabadoobee, laufey / teddy bear - nct dream / bad religion - frank ocean / hurts me too - faye webster / yume utsutsu - lamp / promise - laufey / moonlight on the river - mac demarco / love - wave to earth / only - leehi

Authors note- omg hi, so this is one of my first angst, plz tell me what you think <3 and also… sry for any spelling or grammar errors lol.

July 11th, 9:00 am- beautiful stranger

"Hi! How can I help you today?"

Was the first thing he's ever said to you, a little anticlimactic yes, but you found yourself infatuated.

This was a smoothie shop that you were trying for the first time after moving, so you took some time browsing the menu, the nameless employee asking if you needed any help with anything here and there.

"Well what's your favorite thing?" You asked, looking at him deeply for the first time.

His eyes twinkled like no other, gleaming like the evening star in the night. All you could do was stare as he spoke, taking in all of his delicate features: the way his dark brown hair laid on his forehead, the way he was so expressive as he talked, oh wait, what was he talking about again?

"That's why it's my favorite drink and the large is simply better, sorry I didn't mean to talk your head off." He giggled.

"I'll take that." You grinned softly with him, eyes lighting up as he smiled brightly.

"In a large right?"

"Mhm!"

"Great! One large watermelon smoothie for you, that’ll be 7 dollars."

Your face dropped as he punched your order in on the register. You fucking hate watermelon smoothies, the actual fruit is ok, but the texture of the smoothie you can't do it, like at all.

"Is everything okay?" He asked, looking up at you with concerning eyes.

"Yea, all good!" You forcefully smiled, pulling out your card to pay.

“All set, I’ll get that ready for you asap!” He smiled, handing back your card.

You found somewhere to sit, making yourself comfortable as you scrolled on your phone, distracted by images of his smile popping up in your head. The smoothie shop was quiet, peaceful really, you being the only customer there.

“Here you go ma’am.” You heard from beside you, knocking you out of your thoughts.

“Oh thank you, you really didn’t have to bring it to me though.” You grinned, grabbing the smoothie from him.

“No problem really, there’s no one here anyways.” He smiled back, nodding reassuringly before turning away.

“Wait!” You interrupted, tapping the side of your drink nervously.

“What’s up?” He asked. His stare made you nervous, eyes so pure it made you want to melt on the spot from looking for one second.

“I was just wondering if um, if I could have your number? You know, I’m just new to the city and I would love some people to talk to.” You asked.

Your voice was so shaky and filled with anxiety it was so easy to read your nervousness, but he didn’t mind it, he found it somewhat cute actually.

“Yes, I would love to give you my number. May I see your phone?” You nodded persistently, a small smile on your face from the relief and the excitement, handing him your phone.

“What’s your name?” He asked, dialing the number in your call pad.

“It’s Y/n, what about yours?” You said, a smile on your face as he gave the phone back.

“It’s Mark, nice to meet you Y/n.” He stuck out his hand.

His voice, his eye contact, his manners, everything about him made you blush like a little teenager in love with your high school sweetheart, and you had only exchanged a few words.

“Nice to meet you too.” You smiled, your hand meeting with his soft hand, shaking gently and slowly, his eyes locked with yours.

“Well I have to get back behind my station, I’ll talk to you later, yeah?” He said as you removed your hand from his, nodding gently, waving as he walked back behind the counter.

You decided to sit there, the vile large smoothie in front of you tasting disgustingly good now knowing who made it. You drunk awfully slow, not just because of the eye candy that worked in front of you, glancing at you and smiling on occasion, but because how the smoothie dreadfully slithered down your throat, holding in a gag every swallow, but you finished it, every last drop. God how a pretty smile could make you do anything, you hated it, but here you were.

You got up from your chair, Mark noticing you, interrupting you before you collected your trash: “Oh, I got it!”

You turned to him smiling as he quickly walked over, collecting your trash.

“Thank you Mark, I’ll see you later.”

“You’re welcome Y/n!” He beamed as you walked out the smoothie shop

You had gained three things leaving that shop: a bright smile on your face from happiness, a bittersweet hatred for large watermelon smoothies, and a new, great person in your life.

July 11th, 10:53 pm- more than words

It had been a few hours since your first encounter with Mark, you trying to get him off your mind after the blue message you sent earlier never delivered.

You laid in your bed, staring at the ceiling as your hopes got shot down. Your phone went off beside you, but you just ignored it, trying to sulk in your feelings.

You soon got bored though so you decided to take a peek at your lock screen, jumping up as a familiar unknown number appeared in your Notification Center.

Hi y/n, don’t know if my number is saved yet, but it’s Mark from the smoothie shop.

You lied on your stomach, face lighting up as you grabbed your phone, instantly opening the message.

Oh hey, how was work lol?

It was good, other than the fact I left my phone at home, and dead… most boring double shift ever lol. How was your day after you left?

It was good, just went home and watched a movie with my roommate.

Oh cool. You said you were from a different city right?

Oh yea, actually out of the state!

Oh that’s cool, but why here. ^.^?

Just trying to explore more places, I like this place so far.

Ohh nice. Well I hope I have the pleasure of showing you around the city and making you love it :) How’d you like the smoothie?

I might take you up on that haha ;) and omg it was so delicious. Very refreshing to have after my morning runs. You’ll be seeing me a lot more in the mornings lmao.

Oh awesome, I basically work every morning so it’ll be a pleasure seeing you and making my morning a tad bit better.

You sprung up with a smile on your face, running around your room hectically. Did he really mean he what said, did you make his morning better? Your mind started flooding with a million thoughts, calming as you settled down, realizing that you never texted back. You grabbed your phone again, the message still opened as you started to text back.

Lol, well I guess I'll see you tmr then, hope to brighten up your day :)

You responded, sitting waiting for a response, 5 minutes passing, then 10, and nothing. You figured he might’ve just went to sleep, he did say he had a double shift, but you couldn’t wait to see him tomorrow and the anticipation was eating you up inside all night.

July 12th, 9:13 am - it's a date! i think...

You were on your run, the smoothie shop on your mind the whole entire way.

Finally, you were there, Mark cleaning the counters, eyes lighting up as you walked through the doors.

"Good morning!" He excitedly said.

"Good morning!" You said in response, a bright smile on your face as you made your way to the register to order.

"Wait I made something for you." He said, grabbing the most despise-able , yet refreshingly large watermelon smoothie. You felt your eye twitch at the sight.

"You shouldn't have." You smiled, not forcefully, but you felt a hint of pain behind it.

"Ah, it's the least I could do." He said, handing you the drink , wiping the condensation of the cup on his white apron.

You didn't think you could gobble down another one of these, you almost died at the thought, but there you were, sitting down at the same table you were at yesterday, drinking the smoothie painfully slow.

"So like, have you been anywhere around here yet?" You turned to him as he finished cleaning the counters. "I've only been to like a few food places, but that's all." You answered.

“Well, I’m off next Wednesday. If you’re not busy then I can take you to like my favorite park?”

Your face lit up, did he like just ask you out on a date?

“Yes, I would love to, just text me what time.” You smiled.

“Yea for sure!”

For an hour the conversation kept on flowing, you two chatting it up while he worked, unfinished conversations floating in the air when other customers came into the shop pausing the long talks.

“Mark I’m so sorry to cut this short, but I have to get to my online class so I’ll see you later.” You smiled, a little sad because you felt like you could’ve stayed and talked to him for hours.

“No worries, I’ll text you later about plans. Have a good rest of your day Y/n!”

“You too Mark!” You said, throwing the finished cup away.

On your walk home all you could think about was Mark, yes you only knew him for like 2 days, but his impression had left a stamp on your heart. He would definitely be someone you would be interested in having a relationship with, and he seemed like he thought of you in the same manor.

While walking home, your phone vibration went off, Marks name appearing on the lock-screen.

Hey Y/n know we just talked lol, but I’m thinking maybe like 12:00pm next Wednesday? How does that sound?

You opened the text, a smile on your face as you typed quickly.

Hey Mark, sorry but I have my online class, but I can do 1pm if that’s ok?

Oh yea, that works for me, I can come to your house and we can walk to the park? That sound ok?

Yea that’s perfect!

Great, well then it’s a date! :p

It’s a date lol

It’s a date!

July 19th, 12:55 pm - are you falling in love?

You were panicking you and your roommate running around trying to find your favorite perfume that decided to get lost at a time like this.

Hey! I’m outside, just come out whenever you’re ready I’ll be waiting :)

Fuck, you didn’t want him to just sit out there.

“I FOUND IT I FOUND IT.” Your roommate screamed, throwing you your perfume.

“Thank you you’re the best.” You grinned, rushingly spraying the perfume on your body.

“Ok I’m going now.” You said, grabbing your purse and slipping on your sneakers at the door. You rushed out the door, rushing downstairs your eyes scanning the outside, stopping on a familiar figure wearing a T-shirt, some blue jeans, and a small tote bag.

“Mark!” You shouted, causing him to turn around. Your eyes meeting his face then the two large smoothies in his hand.

You tried to keep a smile on your face, but it seemed like the watermelon smoothies had faces of their own looking at you with snarky expressions.

“Y/n!” He smiled, jogging over to you.

“Were you at the wrong complex?” You giggled, an awkward smile painting his face as he nodded.

“Maybe… oh here I got you something.” He said laughing, handing you the dreadful smoothie.

“Oh thank you.” You smiled.

“Wow my first time seeing you out of your workout clothes, I think I like these better. Not that I don’t like how you look in your workout clothes, you look amazing in your workout clothes, but I’m just, you look good now too.”

“Thank you Mark, and this is the first time I’ve ever seen you without your uniform Mr. Smoothie King. You look good too.” You giggled as he blushed.

“Ah I try my best, I guess we should walk to the park now.”

“After you.”

You guys walked to the park, which happened to only be 5 minutes away, sitting on a bench.

“I don’t know if you’re gonna like it, I should’ve asked, but I got you a ham sandwich.” You smiled taking the sandwich from him.

“I love it thank you.” You said, removing the sandwich out of the packet and taking a big bite.

You two sat on the bench for a while talking each other’s heads off, a smile on both of your faces as you chatted and laughed together for a few hours, the time passing by so fast.

“I’m starving, do you wanna grab dinner?” He said.

“Well, I mean my place is close by we can just go there and cook something really quick.”

“Oh, I would love that.” He smiled.

“Ok let me just text my roommate to make sure.” He nodded as you pulled out your phone, your roommate responding almost immediately saying you could go ahead and she was in her room anyways.

“Ok she said she’s fine we can go!” You said, standing up and grabbing his hand, pulling him up to stand with you.

For any other man, you would never let them go into your apartment this early, but you just felt so different about him, like you would trust anything he says. I guess that’s not a good thing, but for fucks sake ever since you’ve met him you’ve seen him almost everyday, and he always makes it a point to text you throughout the day and after work so you felt like at that point, you had known him long enough to trust him.

You had made it to your house, opening the door and removing your shoes, prompting him to do the same. You sat your things down near the dining table rolling up your sleeves and heading to the kitchen, and he followed right behind you.

“I was just gonna make spaghetti tonight, do you want?” You asked, getting out your pot and pans, setting them on the stove.

“I’d want anything you cook.” He laughed, a small grin appearing on your face as he stood beside you. In past conversations it has come up that you did love cooking and actually had a bachelors in culinary arts, associates in education, hence the online cooking classes you taught, so it wasn’t strange to make a comment like that, it was actually quite flattering.

“Here can you make the sausages?” You asked, handing him the already prepped meat, Mark grabbing the bowl pouring it into the pan almost immediately, causing a loud sizzling sound to erupt in the kitchen.

“MARK!?” You turned, laughing as he backed away from the pan, looking at you like a toddler getting scolded by their parent.

“Uh oh.” He said, a smile appearing on his face before you handed him a box of noodles, signaling him to cook them instead. You two stood beside each other, talking as you watched the food.

“Mark taste this.” You said, grabbing a clean spoon and scooping some of the homemade tomato sauce you made on it, holding it up to his mouth.

“Yo, this honestly may be the best spaghetti sauce I’ve ever tasted.”

You smiled, setting down the spoon, pouring the rest of the sauce with the sausages.

“Thank you.”

You finally finished cooking, plating your beautiful creation together.

“Let’s watch a movie in the living room while we eat.” You suggested, him following behind you as you took a place on the couch.

“What should we watch?” You asked.

“ What about La La Land?” He suggested.

“Stop that movie makes me cry.” You pouted playfully, a grin painting his face.

“Well if you really don’t want to then we can watch something funny, but I’ll be here to wipe your tears just saying.” He shrugged, causing you to smile, looking down, then back up at him.

“Fine.” You said, causing him to take a happy sigh of relief.

You turned on the movie, both of you guys eating while making small comments every now and then. Fortunately, you didn’t cry, but he was your shoulder to lie on during the movie, and unfortunately it was time for him to go home.

“Are you sure you can walk home by yourself, it’s dark out now?” You asked concerned, walking him to the door.

“Yes I’m good, you only stay like 10 minutes walking distance from me, I’ll send you my location if you’re that scared.”

“Ok fine” You said dragging out your words, trying to be serious, but all you could do was melt, it seemed like everything he did, everything he said was so cute and made you smile.

“Well I’ll see you tomorrow, right?” He questioned, looking at you from outside the door frame.

“Yeah, 9:00am like always!”

“Ok, bye Y/n.” He smiled, waving before turning away.

“Bye Mark.” You shut the door, turning away.

You decided to clean up before knocking on your roommates door.

“He’s gone.” You said before walking into your room, her busting in shortly after, a smile on her face.

“Girl.” She said, bouncing on your bed with a mischievous smile.

“You heard everything didn’t you?” You asked.

“I heard enough, and girl he sounds so fucking romantic I thought I was listening to a romcom.

“Ughh tell me about it, he’s so dreamy.” You smiled, face lighting up as you thought about the string of events that happened that day, your phone vibrating before your roommate could respond.

“Omg shut up he just texted me now.” You looked at her with sparkling eyes.

“What’d he say?”

➶︎ mark<3 started sharing location with you.

Hey, just wanted to text and lyk that I had such a fun time, and we should definitely do this again :) have a great night and I’ll see you tomorrow morning.

You looked at your roommate, a smile painted so brightly on your face it hurt your cheeks.

“Girl he fucking wants you oh my god.”

“He fucking wants me!” You screamed, a bright smile on your face as you ran all over your room.

“Text back text back.” Your roommate said.

I had a great time too, thank you for showing me the park <333. Have a great night mark, see you tmr!

You and your roommate just sat talking, you really seeing how deep you were in your feelings after practically bragging to her about him. You just hope he was in as deep as you.

August 2nd, 10:35 am - surprise!

You woke up, excited to get the day started, you were even too excited to go on your morning run, putting on a simple outfit just to run errands, your first one obviously the smoothie shop.

“Happy birthday Mark!!!” You ran inside, a big smile on your face as you made your way to him. He looked up surprised, cleaning the tables, setting down his washcloth as you pulled him into a hug.

“You remembered my birthday, I thought you weren’t coming today?” He smiled as he went behind the counter, going to the register before you shook your head.

“Mark, I’m not ordering anything… but I did come to ask you for a favor.” He looked at you with questioning eyes, not responding, waiting for your favor.

“Well, my uh drawer is jammed and I really need what’s in it like tonight, my roommate isn’t there so I could use your help when you get off?”

“Oh yeah sure, I’ll head over there when I get off.” He said, a small grin on his face.

“Thanks Markie you’re the best! See you at 5. Happy birthday again!”

“Thanks.” He mumbled, going to clean again as you left. 

It’s go time.

Hey I’m otw, might be there at like 5:30 or 5:45 because I’m starving, so I’m gonna stop to get some food.

No Mark, I really need this drawer unjammed, can you plz come right away? You can get food after. plzzzzzzz :(

Alright alright, I’ll come straight there.

Yayyy!

After a few minutes you finally heard a knock on the door. You got up excitedly, making sure everything looked good before opening the door, blocking the view of the living room.

“Ok, let’s see what’s wrong with this drawer.” He said.

You let him in, a big smile on your face as he walked, eyes in shock as he looked at the decorated living room, along with the dinner and cake sitting on the dining room table.

“Surprise!”  You smiled seeing his eyes light up, looking at you, then the decorations, and back at you again.

“Yo… you really… omg I don’t even know what to say. Thank you bro oh my god no one has like ever done anything for me like this before. Thank you Y/n, you’re like the best.”

“You’re welcome Mark and Happy birthday again. Now you said you were starving so let’s eat!”

You both ate, resting on the couch after the delicious homemade chicken and rice, and cookies and cream ice cream cake.

“Do you wanna watch a movie now?” He asked.

“If you want to then we will birthday boy, but I have something for you first.” You said, pulling out a small blue gift bag.

First he pulled out the card, opening it to see a message in bright red ink, reading it in his head.

Dear Mark, I hope you have the most wonderful birthday and I’m very grateful that I could spend it with you. I hope we can spend more and more birthdays together and I want to say that I’m very grateful that I met you! 

- With love Y/n :)

He looked up at you, a smile on his face as he pulled you into a hug. “Thank you so much Y/n.” 

He pulled the other gift out the bag, jumping up out of the seat as he saw what it was.

“Y/N YOU GOT ME A LIMITED EDITION SPIDER-MAN COMIC BOOK?” His smile was so wide and full, you felt like you could climb it.

“Yo Y/n… I’m actually, oh my fucking god I… I honestly could kiss you right now oh my goodness. Thank you.” He squealed, your eyes sparkling as you looked at him.

“You’re welcome Mark. I guess we should watch Spider-Man now huh?” You giggled, pulling out the extra cushions on the couch to make more room so you both could lay down. 

You both got comfortable, watching the movie, your head on his shoulder as you both laid under the blanket. I guess you could say that you both got a little too comfortable, passing out before the movie was even over.

You woke up, unsure of what even happened and how you even got here in the first place. Mark was no where to be found, but a notification on your phone let you know his whereabouts. 

Hey, sorry to leave without saying goodbye, but you were like sleeping beauty lol. I had work and I’m for certain you’re not coming tdy so I’ll just swing by later on when I get off. Oh, and thank you so much again. I really appreciate you :D

Oh no worries, I’ll see you later, and no problem! 

You set your phone down, you couldn’t even believe how far you have gotten with him.

Seriously, your first sleepover with him, cuddled up at that. And of course you didn’t let that comment about kissing you slide, it was pretty much on your mind all night, and the moment kept repeating itself in your head, driving you almost crazy. That’s what you want more than anything, just a kiss, one kiss.

You were certain that you were almost there, but of course you didn’t want to rush things and you liked the pace of this relationship so far so I guess it is what it is right now… but it should come soon, hopefully it comes soon. 

October 27th, 9:08 am- i think im in love.

Today was like any other day, going on your morning run, then stopping by your absolute favorite place.

"Good morning Y/n!" Mark said, smiling as he acknowledged you, sticking his head back under the counter.

"Good morning Mark!" You said, walking to the register.

"I'm a little busy right now Y/n, do you mind just waiting at your table so I can finish this?" He asked.

"Sure." You grinned, going to your normal seat, scrolling on your phone as you waited for Mark. You looked to your side, noticing him holding a large mango smoothie with a birthday candle in the cap, your eyes lighting up as you realized what was happening.

"Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you, happy birthday my dearest Y/n, happy birthday to you!" He sung, bringing the smoothie over to you, his cheekbones defined as he smiled.

"You remembered?" You laughed, blowing out the candle.

"How could I forget? So, I hope you're not busy tonight because I want to do something for you at my apartment." He answered.

"Perhaps I could swing by, I'd have to check my schedule." You said sarcastically, a smirk on your face as your cheeks went hot.

"Well, stop by at 7pm if you're able to Ms. Hollywood."

"I'll see what I can do." You rolled your eyes playfully, a smile on his face as he made his way back to the smoothie counter. 

You thought about what he had planned all day. Doing random task to try to take your mind off of it, daydreaming about what it would be, what it would look like, goodness 7pm couldn't get here any quicker.

Finally it arrived, the time you anticipated for all day. You knocked on his door, waiting for a few seconds before you heard the door handle rattling, him sitting awkwardly in the door frame after he opened it. You two stared at each other for a second in silence, an awkward smile on your face as you stared at him.

“Hey.” He coughed.

“Hey, it’s cold, can I come in?” You grinned, an awkward laugh sounding from him as he let you in, shutting the door behind you.

“Surprise!” He mumbled as you stood quietly, eyes twinkling as you took in all the decorations.

The first thing you saw was a big projector screen in the living room with your favorite show ‘kitchen nightmares’ paused. Your eyes slowly observed the room to see sugar cookies and decorative frosting on the coffee table, a large box with a bow sitting next to it. You were quiet, breathless really, couldn’t even find the words to say, just staring blankly.

“Do you like it, I know it’s not much, but-”

“It’s perfect.” You interrupted, looking at him with the most glistening eyes.

He smiled condescendingly, guiding you to the dinner that was on the dining table, the homemade chicken pasta, which happened to be your favorite food.

“Mark oh my goodness.” You said, taking a seat while he grabbed some drinks from the fridge.

“Yeah, once you told me that you taught how to make it on your course, I just bought the course and learned how to perfect it.” Your eyes widened as you turned to him.

“That’s like a $150 course Mark, I could’ve just taught you.”

“Then it wouldn’t have been a surprise, would it?” He said, sitting down across from you looking at you with a smug smile.

“Plus, you’ve helped me learn how to cook too, I’ve saved so much money cooking at home.”

You nodded, taking a bite out of the food he made, your eyes widening as you grinned.

“You’re good at it too. This is delicious Mark.”

“Ah thank you man, but I learned it from you.” 

You guys finished eating, and started decorating the cookies together, the show playing in the background, but Mark rushed you two, hesitant about you opening up your gift.

“Fine, I’ll open it.” You said, grabbing the card off the box, opening it, a nice purple hand written note on the card. You read it slowly, taking in every word.

Dear Y/n, there’s so much I want to say, but I don’t think words could explain it, and I know I’m probably harassing you about this present right now aren’t I haha? But it’s only because I want to show how much I care about you. Im so glad that we met and I hope you have the best birthday and many more after that.

- Love Mark

“Aw thank you Mark.” You said, pulling him into a hug before you grabbed the box, opening it slowly. He sat there a huge smile on his face, breathing deeply, looking at you with anticipated eyes, his leg bouncing as your eyes widened.

“MARK NO YOU DIDNT, SHUT THE FUCK UP.” You screamed, pulling the pot and pan set out of the box, looking up at him, mouth wide as you looked back at the box.

“Mark this set goes for like 400 dollars- Mark I can’t- Mark how did you- nobody has done anything like this for me before.” You spoke, each sentence shortening with hiccups as your eyes started tearing up. 

“It didn’t take me long to save up for, and it’s the least I could do for messing up one of your pans.” He said.

“The most you should’ve done is get a cheaper pan.” You wiped your tears with your hands, looking at the box again wondering it was all just a dream.

“The amount of times you’ve forced me to binge Hell’s Kitchen with you, you really thought I wasn’t gonna get you your favorite chefs pots and pans set that you talk about all the time?”

“No.” You snuffled, vision blurry.

“Well you deserve it Y/n, happy birthday!” He smiled brightly.

“Thank you so much Mark.” You smiled, blinking quickly trying to stop your tears, pulling him into a hug. 

“You’re welcome Y/n.”

You didn’t know what love felt like. Always used your whole life, taken for granted. Doing everything yourself with no help, no one to call on, but now you knew, you knew it for sure, you were in love.

February 14th, 9:10 am- a night to remember.

After complaining to Mark about how you've never had a valentines, he suggested that he'd be it this year, and of course you agreed. He told you not to stop by the smoothie shop, or even go on your run today, but to stay and pamper yourself before your going out later the night.

You better not be up running right now.

I was sleep actually before your loud notification woke me up -.-

Oh sorry... go back to sleep •.•

You giggled at the message, obviously you were already up, you were too excited not to be. He said that he planned to take you to a fancy restaurant, then just to go back to his apartment and bake cookies, watch movies, little things like that, but no matter what you do, no matter how cheap, you still were so excited. This was your first Valentine, and your biggest crush. 

The time passed fairly quickly as you prepped yourself for what you thought was going to be the best night of your life. You slipped on your red dress and black heels, soon hearing a knock at your door.

Excitedly you rushed to the door, opening it to see Mark in a white button down shirt and black slacks— and god his scent hit you like a speeding car.

“Happy Valentine’s Day.” He smiled, a bouquet of roses in his hand.

“Happy Valentine’s Day.” You responded, your lips turning into a smile, cheeks hurting from smiling so hard as he handed you the flowers.

“You look good.” He spoke, clearing his throat, an awkward smile painting his face.

“Thank you, I could say the same about you.” You said, smiling brightly as you sat down your flowers, grabbing your purse and a red gift bag before turning to him again.

“This is for you.” You said, handing him the gift bag, a grin on his face as he accepted it.

“Let’s open our gifts later together, ok?” He said.

You nodded, closing the door behind you. 

The dinner was very much delicious, and you two had a great time baking cookies. It was a little bit messy, just because you both were a bit tipsy, well… very tipsy, but it was fun nevertheless.

“Mark let’s open our gifts.” You giggled, as he nodded, grabbing his small gift bag.

He grabbed his gift first, pulling it out and examining it.

“You told me that you wanted to learn how to cook more meals when im not around, and I can’t have you buying my courses again, so I just made you a homemade cookbook— with like only foods that we make together, the ones nobody else has.” You smiled infectiously, Mark feeling a smile curling on his lips just from looking at yours.

“Thank you Y/n, I love it.” He smiled genuinely, handing you the small bag that he had in his hands. You opened it slowly, taking out a small black velvet box.

You looked up at him, an impatient look glimmering in his eyes as you opened it slowly, a beautiful silver diamond necklace sparkling in your eyes.

“Well damn, maybe I should’ve gotten you a better gift.” You giggled, still a little taken aback.

He laughed in response, inching closer to you.

“Do you like it?” He asked, eyes burning into your face for some kind of approval.

“Like it? I love it.” You said, eyes sparkling as you looked up at him.

“Can you help me put it on?” You said, removing the necklace from the box, handing it to mark.

You turned around, lifting up your hair, the necklace wrapping around your neck nicely. His hands rubbing against your skin as he fastened the jewelry. You turned around, your bodies close, Mark looking at the necklace as it sparkled on your skin.

“It’s beautiful.” He murmured, looking at you with a smile, but all you could do was stare— stare deeply into his eyes, god you just wanted to taste him so bad.

Your stares remained interlocked, no one breaking the eye contact, no one saying anything either.

So you did it, leaning in and finally taking his lips onto yours. It wasn’t as magical as you thought though, in all honesty it seemed like it wasn’t even reciprocated.

You broke the kiss, an awkward silence shattering around you as he just stood staring at you.

“I’m- I’m sorry.” You stuttered, breaking the silence.

Your eyes burned from holding back the tears that wanted to desperately be let out, you turning and walking away to avoid it— thinking about how your walk home would be, how you would cry deeply regretting how you ruined the day that was supposed to be perfect, but that all got interrupted as you felt a tight grasp on your wrist, turning you back around, a silent tension surrounding the two of you once again.

You looked at him with glossy eyes, a million thoughts rushing around in your brain, but your mind went blank again as his lips crashed back onto yours.

Your shoulders dropped, letting go of all the tension in your body as his hand found your face, pulling you deeper into the kiss.

The kiss grew deeper as you wrapped your hands around his neck, his free hand wrapping around your body, slowly backing you into his room, not breaking the kiss once.

His hands found the zipper of your dress, slowly pulling it down, slipping you out of the tight fabric, you pulling him out of his shirt shortly after.

There were no words exchanged, only heavy breathing as you two kissed passionately, tongues exploring each other’s mouths as he pushed you onto his bed.

You sat there, chest heaving up and down as you looked at him pull a condom out of his nightstand, eyes lighting up as you came to your senses about what was really going on.

He pulled down his pants and underwear, ripping the plastic to the condom with his teeth, wrapping it around himself before getting on top of you.

He planted another messy kiss on your lips before pulling down your underwear, lining up his tip to your aching hole.

You breathed heavily in anticipation, you practically have dreamt of this moment. He looked at you once more for reassurance before pushing himself into you. You let out a gasp, your walls wrapping tightly around him. He started to thrust at a slow pace, making sure you were comfortable before speeding up.

Your skin flushed as you squirmed under him, beautiful sounds of lust filling the room as his head rested on your shoulder, face nuzzling into your neck.

Loud moans filled the room as your bodies pressed into each others as he thrusted even faster, letting out moans and curses as your walls sucked him in.

You wrapped your hand around his bare back, scratching and itching at his bare skin as your bodies thrashed together.

“Fuck I’m almost there.” You whimpered out, clenching around him, breath hitching causing him to let out a low moan into your neck.

“Me too Y/n.” He moaned, desperately thrusting.

His hands found your arms, removing them from his back and holding onto them tightly, fingers interlocking with yours as his thrust became messier and messier by the second.

“Fuck I’m coming.” He cried out, your legs shaking in sync as he forced himself to do a few more aimless thrust, both of you moaning loudly as he rode out your highs.

The room filled with heavy breathy, you sitting there silently trying to fathom what even just happened. 

You two got cleaned up and went to sleep right after, well he did.

You couldn’t sleep though, the realization struck a cord in your brain, your mind racing from the thought that he wanted you just as bad as you wanted him, it was obviously so exciting.

You couldn’t wait to wake up together— wake up together knowing that he was yours and you were his.

You wonder what that conversation would sound like, what the moment would feel like when you two could finally call each other boyfriend and girlfriend, it had your cheeks growing warm. I guess you could say it was the best night of your life.

You shut your eyes, vivid pictures of him filled the dark void until you finally found yourself asleep.

February 15th, 11:25 am - he loves me, he loves me not.

You woke up, Mark sleeping soundly beside you, smiling strongly as you realized it really wasn’t a dream.

You hopped up excitedly, going to his kitchen to prepare some breakfast for the both of you, Mark waking up shortly before the food was ready.

“Good morning.” He said, taking a seat at the dining table.

“Good morning.” You smiled, plating the food and bringing it to him, taking a seat across from him.

You two sat awkwardly, Mark avoiding eye contact as he ate his food. You couldn’t wait any longer, couldn’t just sit around and wait till he brought up the topic.

You were so curious as to what you guys were now— and you weren’t going to technically ask him out, but you just wanted some clarity, just wanted to hear him say that you were more than friends, so you took a deep breath interrupting the silence: “Mark, I have a question.”

He looked at you, his eyes looking into yours as if he knew what was coming.

“What’s up?” He said, moving the food around on his plate with his fork.

“What- what are we?” You asked, titling your head, looking at him, but only being returned with broken eye contact.

He chewed his food silently, his body shifting in his chair. He looked back up at you, playing with his food once again, the fork scrapping on the plate somehow louder than the silence that surrounded the both of you.

“Well, we’re friends, aren’t we?” He swallowed, looking at you with a slight frown on his face.

“You don’t wanna be more than that though?” You asked, speaking softly as you innocently glanced at him.

He held his breath, looking everywhere except for your eyes as he answered agonizingly slow, and quietly: “No, not really.”

You felt your heart shatter as he still avoided eye contact, a million thoughts flooding your mind as you bit your lip.

“So why did you- why did we do that last night?” You asked.

“Well, I thought it was a friend thing, just us being tipsy.” He finally looked into your eyes, his answer only making your heart shrink smaller.

You held your composure well, but he noticed the subtlest shift in your eyelids along with the gloss that coated your eyes.

“Friends don’t fuck, or use each other when they’re horny and drunk ” You spat out, growing less patient of his answers by the second.

“Well, you kissed me first- I didn’t know what to do.” He shrugged, voice going a few octaves higher.

“The kiss where I apologized after I thought it wasn’t reciprocated? The kiss where you fucking pulled me back when I was trying to leave? That kiss Mark?” Anger spurred inside you as your voice grew more and more aggressive.

He grew quiet, silence filling the room once again as he looked at you with eyes full of pity— it drove you almost insane.

“Fuck this.” You said, storming to his room to grab any of your belongings.

“I didn’t wanna lose you Y/n.” He said, rushing after you.

“Oh so you decided to lead me on for what- fucking months? You thought that would’ve kept me here Mark? Flirting with me, watching me fall in love with you, then rejecting me and blaming it on me kissing you- AFTER I APOLOGIZED AND LITERALLY TRIED TO LEAVE? Not losing me was the last thing on your mind.” You picked up the remaining items, stuffing your bag rushingly.

“You- you fell in love with me?” He mumbled, standing in the doorway looking at you in sorrow.

“Yes Mark, I fell love you. I fell in love with your eyes, your smile, your fucking everything, and I thought you felt the same way about me, but obviously I’m nothing but a pity party to you.” You looked at him, tears finally spurring from your eyes as you started to break down from his silence.

“Fucking say something.” You said in a painful whisper.

“What do you want me to say? Do you want me to lie and say I love you? I can’t lie to you like that Y/n, you deserve better than that.” Your eyes winced in pain as you stared at him silently.

“Wait no Y/n, that’s not what I meant, I do love you, you’re my best friend I love you a lot, but-”

You interrupted him, grabbing your bag and walking to the door where he was standing, removing your necklace.

“Stop Y/n, I didn’t mean it like that.” He spoke in deep sympathy and guilt.

“You looked me directly in my eyes when you said that, you meant every word. I hope you’re happy.”

Your last words almost squeaked out as your throat tightened, tears streaming down your hot cheeks as you handed him back the necklace.

“Please Y/n, stay— so we can talk about it.” He spoke lightly, blocking the doorway.

You could hear he was being genuine, but you didn’t care at that point. 

“There’s nothing to talk about, move Mark.”

“Y/n-”

“move.” You spoke sternly, all he could do was move out of the way and watch as the person he cared for the most walk out his life.

The walk home has probably been the worst and most embarrassing one ever. Your vision blurry as tears violently streamed down your face, wailing as the scene played over and over in your head. You thought he was different, but you guess everyone was the same. You promised to yourself that night that you will never ever deal with that ever again, and no matter what you’re done with him.

February 21st, 9:47pm- please, I love you.

It had been a week since the incident, and to say that you were exhausted was an understatement.

You were more numb than anything right now, finding a new route to run so you didn’t have to run into the smoothie shop, avoiding places that you were most likely to run into each other at, trying to forget about the incident, forget about him— but oh no he didn’t let you.

He would send messages every day, every hour, and it drove you almost insane, but for some reason you couldn’t block him, and deleting his number out of impulse didn’t do anything. 

Good morning, I hope you’re doing ok, again I’m so sorry.

You bet he is…

Hey, can we please talk?

Nope.

Plz just respond and tell me you’re okay.

Did he really think you were? 

You can be mad at me, you can hate me, but please let me apologize in person

Ugh, for someone who wasn’t in love with you, he would not leave you alone. 

But you would just ignore it, leave him on delivered for hours, opening the message when you felt like it. Sometimes you would even act like you were responding to the message when you felt him watching your text bubble, just to mess with him— you deserved to fuck around with him after all.

One day you got another message.  

 I’m outside, please come out, I’ll wait for hours if I have to. 

Was he serious, this was starting to get obsessive. Why couldn’t he just take the hint. 

You did what you always did, left him on read, and went on about your business, but 30 minutes later you were curious about if he was actually still waiting.

After beating yourself up for caring so much you decided to check his location, and there he was, sitting in the same place. You sat there for a minute, contemplating if you should go out— for goodness sakes it was like 40 degrees outside so this was some serious commitment on his part, plus this could be a good way to get rid of him, right? 

Right…

You grabbed your coat and slipped on your boots, making your way outside to where he was sitting. He jolted up, eyes widening from the fact that you did come outside.

He stood up, trying to hand you a flower.

“I don’t want it.” You declined, shaking your head before sitting on the bench. He nodded his head understandingly.

“How are you?” He asked, sitting beside you on the bench.

“What do you have to say?” You replied curtly, looking forward to avoid his gaze on you. You knew if you looked at him in his sorry eyes you might’ve just folded right then.

“Well, I just want to say that I’m so sorry Y/n. I truly am. I never meant to hurt you and I’m so stupid for leading you on, and making you feel like you mean so little to me. I- I guess I was just scared to lose you, which I know is not an excuse and I’m very sorry. I love and care for you a lot ok. You deserve so much more than what I gave you, and I’m so sorry that I didn’t act that way. I should’ve told you that I didn’t want a relationship from the jump and I’m so sorry that I’m realizing that now when it’s too late. You’re my best friend and by your side is where I’m meant to be. You have the right to be selfish and I know that I don’t deserve someone as amazing as you, but please, please just give me one more chance. I care about you so much and I need you in my life. Please.”

You sat there, a tear rolling down your cold, numb cheeks.

You didn’t want to trust him again, and you’ve said this before and it went terribly wrong, but no one has ever done or said anything to you like this before.

“Mark, listen.” You gulped down the sadness that lingered in your throat and began to speak clearly.

“I love you more than anything, and I would be willing to forgive, but do you realize how embarrassing this is? To be rejected like that— to be told those words, those excuses, and take you back, even as a friend this quickly, this fast. Sorry, but I would have no self respect for that. So that being said, I have to think about this.”

You paused, turning to him.

“But you have to leave me alone, you have to let me figure this out myself. I feel grateful that you feel pity and that you feel enough remorse to be here right now on a cold winter night, but you have to give me space, do you understand me? I need space from you.” 

“I understand. I’ll give you space.” He said nodding, looking at you with a frown on his face.

“Anything else?” You asked, standing up as he shook his head no, grabbing your wrist before walking off.

“Thank you, for coming out and talking.”

You said nothing, only nodding in response, pulling his fingers off your wrist, walking back up to your apartment.

February 28th, 8:36 pm- forgiveness, could you imagine?

It had been about a week since you and Mark talked, and trust it was the most confusing week.

You didn’t know whether to be sad, happy, or relieved.

Didn’t know if you would forgive, or just forget and move on.

He respected your wishes, no more annoying text anymore, but that didn’t make you feel good— and honestly made you think about him more, worried about if he was ok or not.

You knew it was bad, and you knew he didn’t even deserve to be thought about right now, but you cared for him and you couldn’t deny that.

So… after sitting for hours, thinking, you decided to forgive. 

Hey, I wanted to reach out so I wouldn’t leave you hanging on the matter, even tho you deserve it lol. Anyways, I just wanted to say that I decided to forgive you and would like to continue on as friends. I will never forget this and will take every comment you make seriously and correct you if I think something is misleading. It might not go back to the way it was right away, so don’t force it. And I guess that being said, I’ll see you tomorrow morning during my run.

Thank you so much Y/n, I really appreciate it, and I’ll try my best to be the best friend to you ever. I’ll try not to cross any boundaries and take your feelings deeply into consideration. I’ll see you tomorrow :)

So, I guess you broke your promise. You honestly just wanted your friend back, and even though you’re heartbroken, you still love him. This is your problem actually, too nice for this world, always forgiving, but you would work on that later, but right now you had to deal and learn from it. You know it sounds stupid, but even though he’s the one that broke your heart, he’s also the one who gave you a shoulder to lie on while you cry to him about it, so you’ll be okay. The things you would do for love. 

May 16th, 9:00 am - for me.

I had been 3 months since the whole incident happened between you and Mark. After a while you got tired of correcting his comments, and got the hint that was just being nice, so you let it go, along with your feelings for him. Basically, everything was back to normal, but he was way more— how do you say? Kinder, which seemed impossible given the fact of how your friendship has always been, but now it was very noticeable. You just chopped it up to him wanting to proof himself to you, and redeem himself from… past situations.

Unfortunately you had to break some bad news to him though.

Hey, can we meet at the park?

Yea sure, is everything ok?

You didn’t respond. 

You two were sitting on the bench that shared so much history, talking and getting off track per usual, but you finally had to spill the news. 

“Mark, I’m-” You took a deep breath, turning to your body towards him. 

“Mark I’m moving back home.” You said, Marks eyes glistening a mournful sparkle as he heard the words come out your mouth.

“W-why?” He asked, voice cracked a little as he stared at you. 

“Well, my mom is dead ok. And I- I feel like I’ve messed everything up and I need to go back to find myself, like find myself fully and heal instead of running away from my problems.” Your voice was confident, yet stuttered as you spoke. 

“When did your mom die, why didn’t you tell me?” He asked, voice curious and worried. 

“Shit I didn’t even know she died until a week ago. I feel like even though we didn’t have a good relationship, I could’ve at least been there you know, not just for my mom, but for my whole family.” 

“I understand, and I’m so proud of you for trying to heal and be the bigger person, even though your family wasn’t the bigger person for you. When do you leave?” He asked.

You took another deep breath, biting your lip. “Next week.” 

“That soon!?” He said, his voice clamorous. 

“That soon… but let’s make this last week fun, and memorable and not mourn about it, ok?” 

“Ok.” He nodded. 

You both just sat in silence as you let the date sink in.

You claimed that you wanted to heal, and that you couldn’t stop running away from your problems, but here you were— running away from your biggest one. You thought that you wanted to keep in contact when you left, but in all honesty, you weren’t so sure. But you guess time would tell.

May 20th, 2:00 pm - this is goodbye

So here it is, your last hangout, the last time you would probably see him for a while, and it was memorable— you guess?

You two decided to go to an amusement park, and then the aquarium. You were having a great time, but you kept noticing his stares, exchanging glances every once in a while, it was very weird. 

“What?” You kept asking, his eyes widening in, obviously forceful confusion and innocence.

“Nothing, nothing. Nothing at all man.” He would respond each time, shrugging his shoulders. 

You were in the aquarium, holding the stuff animal that he bought you tightly in your arms. 

“Y/n, I have to tell you something.”  He spoke, clearing his throat. 

“What’s up?” You turned to him, a wide smile on your face as you looked him in the eyes. 

“I um-” he paused, gulping and biting his lip nervously as you stared at him with curious eyes.  

“I just wanted to say that I’m gonna miss you and I hope we stay close.” He smiled, sticking his thumb up awkwardly.

“Aww me too Mark.” You smiled in return, pulling him into a hug.

Finally you were back to your apartment after a long, but fun day with him. He wanted you to come over so he could prepare some dinner for you, but you knew that you were going to be exhausted tomorrow from the move so you respectfully declined, letting him know that you needed rest. 

“Well, I guess this is goodbye then huh?” You said, a bittersweet smile on your face as you looked at his gleaming eyes.

“I guess it is. You’ll visit right?” He questioned.

“Of course I will, and you can come visit me whenever you want too. There’s a lake nearby that I think you’d love.” You smiled.  

“Ok, I’ll definitely visit for sure.” He nodded. A comforting silence surrounding the two of you as you just stared at each other.

“Well, I have to get going.” You said, breaking the silence, a grin on your face. 

“Ok. I’ll see you later… bye y/n!” 

“Bye Mark!” You smiled, turning away to walk to your apartment, looking behind you once more, a smile on his face as he waved.

You never thought that your story would end this soon. Even, though— or, if you, remained friends, you knew it would never be the same no matter how much you visit or text each other, but that’s okay, you were fine with it… right?

May 21st, 8:36 pm - I’m home.

Hey, just checking to see if you got there smoothly?

Yep, all moved in lol

Great I’m glad, I’ll definitely be coming soon;) but anyways, I’ll let you get some rest. Talk to you later

Talk to you later :)

May 21st, 12:23 am - hate me forever.

❥ 1 new voice message from - mark

I know you might hate me forever after this, but I was thinking about it and it’s best if I just told you. You’ve been nothing but kind to me and it seems like all I do is fuck your life over, but Ive gotten it all wrong anyways, so I might as well confess now. Fuck Y/n, I think- I think I’m in love with you. You’re going to be so pissed off with me and I was about to tell you yesterday before you left, but you looked so happy and I didn’t wanna ruin it with my own personal feelings like I always do. I thought I didn’t want to be with you, I thought I never would want to be with anyone ever, but you made me realize that I do and I feel like there was a reason that I kissed you, tipsy or not. Well I did more than just kiss you, but nevermind that. Sorry. I don’t know why I said that sorry. Anyways sorry, I um dude I’m actually like, this is like frustrating, but I hope that we can still be close even though we don’t live near each other anymore. And yeah, I thought to tell you this so you could reject me and get your revenge you know? Sorry I don’t know why I said that either- sorry for saying that- whyd I- anyways, man I just- ok turn this off actually, but I- I love you Y/n and I hope we stay close, wait dude didn’t I just say that? I don’t know anymore man ok bye- love you- bye.

Don’t listen to that I was drunk :/

Getting drunk the day I leave, miss me already? ;)

Ha you’re funny. Don’t listen tho seriously

Ok fine I won’t .-.

What the fuck.

You obviously listened to it, the first thing you heard in the morning and all you could do was sit in your bed shocked.

You never thought this day would ever come, nor prepared yourself for it.

There was nothing you could do, he fumbled, and you had lost feelings. That was his fault sorry not sorry, but as the week went on you could only think about that message.

It ran through your mind over and over again, and the more you thought about, the more you wanted him.

No matter how much you tried to force your feelings away and tell yourself that you didn’t have them anymore, you can never deny love you feel for someone else, never. 

You loved Mark, and you needed to talk to him.

May 30th, 8:00 pm - we can't be friends.

It had been about a week after the voice message, and you tried to ignore everything. Tried to ignore your feelings, your families nagging and constant toxicity, and tried to ignore him running through your mind. You both haven’t talked since then, I guess he was too guilty to even try and you just let it go.

“Y/n, there’s someone here for you.” You heard screaming from downstairs. 

Your brows furrowed in curiosity as you made your way downstairs. 

You went to the front door, opening it to see Mark standing there. Your eyes widening as he stood at the door with a cheeky smile. 

“Mark what are you doing here!?” You asked, slipping on your sandals and walking outside, shutting the door behind you.

“I told you I would come soon.” He smiled. 

“How did you even find my address?” Your forehead crinkled as you looked at him with questioning eyes. 

“We share locations.” He answered quickly, swirls of passion in his eyes. 

“Mark, that’s like- kinda weird.” You answered, a chuckle escaping your lips as he scratched the back of his head.

“Man, I just be checking sometimes, just to make sure you’re ok. Now can you show me this lake that you talked about, it’s all that’s been running through my mind.” 

“Yes mark I can show you the lake.” You said, grabbing a blanket and your phone. 

You two sat at the lake, watching the sunset, talking like you haven’t seen each other for months.

As you two talked, him confessing kept crossing your mind, really it was all that you could think of actually.

You didn’t know if you should just leave it alone like he did, tell him that you knew and that it was ok, or just tell him you like him first to see if he says anything.

You honestly didn’t know how it would affect the relationship between the two of you, but you just wanted to say something at least, and you weren’t upset like he thought. 

“Mark.” You begun, swallowing the anxiety that crawled up your chest into your throat. 

He didn’t even respond, just looked at you blankly, his eyes hinting a bit of worry. 

“I listened to the voice message.” You mumbled. 

His face dropped, ears turning red as he opened his mouth to say something, lip quivering as the words got stuck.

You could feel his heart race even though you weren’t even touching him. He paused for a second, then his voice sounded in fast and high pitch words. 

“Y/n, I’m seriously like so sorry. I know that had to be confusing and I honestly wish that I deleted it before you listened dude, swear. You did not deserve to be tangled up in my feelings-” 

“Don’t worry, it’s mutual.” You interrupted. 

“And I just- wait what?” He paused, looking at you with confusion in his eyes, but a bit a relief in his voice.

“It’s mutual.” You nodded, just as surprised of your words as Mark at that point. 

“But I thought you stopped liking me?” His said, his voice sounding flabbergasted. Eyes twinkling as he looked into yours. 

“I did, but I never stopped loving you, and I guess that counts right?” You said, a small grin on your face as his face lit up. 

“So- so would you be with me? Would you be my girlfriend Y/n?” He asked, turning to you, voice high pitched and excited as his eyes went brighter and wide. 

“I would… if you promise to never leave me alone, if you promise to always be there with and for me?” You answered, eyes sparkling as a smile crept on your face from just looking at him. 

“I promise Y/n. I’m not letting you go again. I want us to be together forever if it’s possible.” He spoke, scooting closer to you and grabbing your hands, holding them tightly. 

“Ok, well then- I would love to be your girlfriend Mark.” Your cheeks hurt as you smiled strongly, your words full of warmth. 

“But wait, there’s something we’re forgetting.” He paused, you humming in response as he grabbed something from his coat pocket. 

He held up the shimmering diamond necklace, your eyes sparking as you looked at it with a smile. 

“Do you just carry that around with you? That’s weird.” You asked, giggling to yourself. 

“Call me what you want bro, but it’s yours.” 

He smiled, signaling you to turn around so he could put it on you. 

“Wow this is so excited I could just kiss you.” He squealed as you turned around.

You raised your eyebrows, a smirk painting your face as you starred at him. He blinked quickly, a smirk appearing on his face shortly after yours. 

“Can I kiss you?” He asked, cheekbones defined from blushing. 

“Yes. You can kiss me.” You responded, nodding as your cheeks grew warm as the smile on your face began to hurt from how big it was. 

He smiled, grabbing your face and pulling it to his, looking at your eyes before leaning in.  The taste was familiar, yet so much sweeter. You wrapped your hands around his neck, pulling him even closer to you, lips not leaving each others. 

Now this is what you could call magical— no regrets, no alcohol, just love. 

July 7th, 9:38 am. - my darling.

“Happy one year- meetiversary?” He spoke. 

You giggled, meeting him at the counter, giving him a kiss on the cheek as he handed you a mango smoothie.

“Whatever happened to the watermelon ones?” You asked. 

You were relieved for sure, but still curious because after your birthday he stopped giving them to you. 

“I thought you didn’t like them?” He asked, his eyebrow raised as he titled his head. 

“Did I tell you that?” You paused, looking at him with confused eyes. 

“No, but I could tell from like the first day I gave you one.” 

“So if you could tell I didn’t like it, why’d you keep making them for me?” You questioned, head titling. 

“Oh I just wanted to mess with you, see how long it would take for you to crack, but you didn’t, surprisingly.” He said, a smirk appearing on his face.

“So why Mangos now?” You raised your eyebrow questionably. 

“It’s your favorite fruit.” 

“How do you know that?” 

“Y/n It was in your 4 hour cooking course. You mentioned how it was your favorite fruit.” He answered, you nodding in response understandably before tilting your head once again. 

“But you bought the one with my favorite meal, the 2 hour one?” You said, causing his lips to curl into a smile.

“Oops.” 

You hit him playfully, scolding him about not buying your classes anymore and that you were right there to teach him, but he never listened regardless so you stopped wasting your breath. 

You two were long distance for a tad bit, but he finally convinced you to come back so you could be closer again, and trust you took it deeply into consideration after you kept getting in fights with your family when you moved back home. So you’re back.

Sometimes you just sit and think about what if you never moved in the first place. How would your life be? Nevermind that, you just felt grateful to have him and he felt the same about you. It’s been a year since you and Mark have met, and to say that it’s been an emotional rollercoaster was an understatement. Your connection was for sure a journey, and every step of the way, no matter if it was sad or happy, it brought the two of you where you meant to be— together. 

September 15th, 5:39 pm (5 years later) - I’ll never let you go.

Sorry to bother you on your run, but do you think you can pick her up some diapers otw home?

Delivered at 8:30 am

Y/n omg she’s crying so hard, she misses her mom, come back soon :(

Delivered at 9:30 am

Sorry, I’ll leave you alone, but I’m telling the truth about her crying.

Delivered at 9:31 am

Y/n, it’s been an hour, where are you? Why is your location off?

Delivered at 10:42 am

Y/n where are you? I’m becoming very upset, text back. 

Delivered at 12:38 pm

baby, are you okay? Why aren’t you picking up my calls?

Delivered at 2:09 pm

Did I do something to upset you? I’m sorry if I did, plz come home so we could talk about it. 

Delivered at 5:00 pm

About 30 minutes, I got a call that sent a shiver down my spine.

“Hello is this the husband of Y/n L/n?”

You always told me that you would list me first for your emergency contacts, but I didn’t think anything of it. 

“I’m sorry to inform you, but she was involved in a very bad hit and run car accident. Please come down here as soon as possible so we can discuss the matter with you.” 

My heart trembled at the call, I couldn’t even stand straight.

Your long time friend, your roommate met me at the hospital, taking our baby girl out of my hands before I went into the hospital room, hands shaking every step of the way to you.

When I saw you, my heart sunk, it had to have been a nightmare, no way this was real.

I couldn’t even make it fully in the room before turning and walking out the door. Screaming, tears streaming down my face as I tried to find who did this to you. Thank god our baby was there, gave me a reason to not find him and kill him myself.

The doctors helped me calm down and I finally walked in fully, trying to hold my composure as I got closer to you.

They had you hooked up to all this complicated equipment, but all I could see was you.

I took a seat by your side, tears falling from my eyes as the doctors gave me a minute to spend with you quietly. 

“She’s brain dead. The impact of the car sent her into cardiac arrest and the impact from the fall added severe damages to her brain”

I heard that from beside me, a sorrowed voice that just sunk into my brain, carving the words harshly into my heart.

My eyes shut as I wrapped my hand around yours.

You were cold, and that only made my heart shatter more.

“Is there anyway she’ll wake up? Anything?”

I tried to speak, but my voice cracked and squeaked as I saw the doctor’s forcefully cold expression, sympathy in his eyes as he shook his head. 

“I’m sorry, but there’s really nothing we can do but pull the plug, but that’s a decision for you Mr. Lee.” 

Tears were in my eyes, my face focused as I stared at you. I was in my right mind— I think, but I couldn’t help my emotions that began to flow out. 

“Can- can she feel anything?”

I asked, my voice cracked as I looked at your face.

No matter how cut up it was you still looked so beautiful. 

“No.” The doctor spoke. 

“So then, I guess that’s the only thing to do right?”

I mumbled, small hiccups escaping my throat as the doctor nodded in agreement, leaving me in the room with you alone for a few more minutes. 

I felt numb when I heard that long agonizing beep, couldn’t feel anything but tickling tears rolling down my cheek as I looked at your face.

I could hear faint sounds of your roommate crying, along with our babies cries ringing in my ear, but I couldn’t do anything— I couldn’t move, I couldn’t talk, I was shattered. 

I love you y/n. I will love you forever, and the day that I die, I’ll look for you, and only you.

May 30th, 6:46 pm (4 years later) - interminable

Happy anniversary y/n

it’s been 9 years since I asked to be your boyfriend haha time flies so fast doesn’t it?

Oh, our precious baby girl is 5 years old now, whatttt.

She loves you so much, always ask for stories about her mom, wants to be a chef just like you. 

It’s funny because guess what? she hates watermelon smoothies too. She tried to lie, but I saw it in her face. Reminds you of someone huh? 

Yk I still remember laughing to myself every time I gave you those smoothies, you tried so hard to act like it was good, but I could tell.

I still listen to your voice messages, the ones you always told me that your laugh sounded ugly, remember? Well I think it sounds beautiful, your laugh never fails to crack me up. 

Oh and guess what? I have a surprise. Are you ready? you’re gonna be so happy.

I met Gordon Ramsey! Are you jealous lol? Don’t worry I bragged to him about you, he said you sounded lovely. It always amazes me how talented you are.

I know you’re smiling so hard aren’t you? You wouldn’t leave me for Gordon Ramsey right?

Wait also before you get mad at me, of course I still have the cookbook

And yes I still cook every recipe out of that book, even the one with the sauce that always made me fart, god you hated that one. 

I still think about you everyday 

And I still miss you so much

Like really really miss you. 

Y/n, I really really really fucking miss you 

And I still love you, I will never stop loving you. 

Happy anniversary.

I love you too Mark, happy anniversary.

So, yes you’re not here anymore, but he made a promise to you, and he kept it. You will always love him, and be there for him and watch over him and your child. You don't always need a body to live on, all you need is a heart, and as long as he's living, your heart resides with his. 

©mafiadad5

[gublernatural]

The Summertime & Butterflies ✿ Spencer Reid

from the river to the sea, palestine will be free 🇵🇸 READ: this account stands with palestine, and so— i require everyone who interacts to educate themselves, and support/donate. READ THESE; 1 and 2, HELP HERE, BOYCOTT. silence is complicity, do not scroll past this.

♡ SUMMARY: a local florist helps spencer make a peony arrangement for a friend.

♡ WARNINGS: florist!reader, cheesy flower shop names, not edited, that's it really

𖤣.𖥧.𖡼.⚘.𖤣.𖥧.𖡼.⚘.𖤣.𖥧.𖡼.⚘.𖤣.𖥧.𖡼.⚘

“And these ones,” You gestured to the white chrysanthemum arrangement you made that morning, “represent loyalty, which is also necessary when proposing.” You practically floated through the little corner store filled with flowers, very obviously fitting in. This was your element, basically your home. You spent more time here, at ‘Cherry Bloom Barn’, than anywhere else in the world. Coincidentally, you were also the happiest here. Not many people could say that about their job, you were extremely fortunate in this way.

“Okay, I think I’ll take those,” the woman you were currently touring around gestured to an arrangement you had shown her earlier, “and those,” she pointed at the chrysanthemum arrangement, “and maybe we could do something with those sunflowers? Those are her favorite.” You hummed in agreement, already brainstorming the different ways you could incorporate them.

You had been working with Eloise for a few hours now, ensuring she had everything she needed to propose to her girlfriend. She had described her vision in detail, and you were sure you could make it a reality. It would take some time, and definitely a lot of work, but there was nothing more motivating than helping someone who was very clearly in love.

The only thing you enjoyed more than gardening and flower arranging, was helping people in love. Being able to bring someone’s vision for their partner to life, and knowing you will, in a bit of a roundabout way, be a permanent mark in their love story, was more fulfilling than any other career you could imagine. 

You brought Eloise back to the small desk you kept in the corner of your store. There were vines sprawling across it, but it felt homey nonetheless. You wrote down your notes, finalized the arrangements and delivery, and had Eloise sign the agreement. You knew you were discounting your prices a tad when you handed her the receipt, but no one had to know that. 

“See you in a few days!” You smiled at her, and she waved on her way out. With a sigh, you began to neaten up your space. The time you’ve dubbed the ‘in-between’ was the best part of your day. No one to greet, no sales pitch to make, just you and your flowers. What more could a girl want?

Your ‘in-between’ lasted almost an hour and a half, before the bell in front of your door chimed, signaling a new arrival. You were in the back, turning on the plant-safe light you used when there was a lack of sunlight coming in through your large shop windows. With the summer setting, it was a need. “Be right there!” You hollered from your hidden nook, fighting with the old light switch. It took a few seconds, but after a bit of flickering, the lights came on.

As quickly as you could without breaking any pots, you shuffled your way out to the front of the shop. You straightened your apron and wiped your sweaty hands along your thighs. Once you looked up, you were met with the most beautiful eyes, on the most beautiful man, you’d ever seen. “Welcome!” You said, cheerfully. You chose to ignore the butterflies swirling in your stomach.

He gave a tight-lipped smile, holding on to the satchel that was draped across his broad chest. “Looking for anything in particular?” You questioned, offering him a wide smile. “Yes, actually,” he said, suddenly very comfortable, “I need peonies.” He declared. It wasn’t very often a man came in and knew what flowers to request. You were stunned for a minute, before ushering him over the the ‘Peony Point’. There was a wooden sign hung above the corner, with little paintings of peonies decorating it.

This section of the store was covered in different colors and arrangements of its namesake flower. You were especially proud of the red ones, knowing how prestigious the meaning of them can be. You let him look around for a second, noticing how drawn he was to the yellow ones. After a few seconds, you approached him again, “The yellow ones represent,” you started, but were quickly cut off. ���Joy and good fortune. I think these will be perfect.” 

Your mouth ran dry at the way he cut you off. You weren’t sure if it was some kind of intimidation tactic, maybe he was looking for the cheapest flowers, or if it was excitement from some life event he was about to celebrate.

“Awesome,” You forced out, a bit more timid than you usually would be with your customers. “Are you looking for an arrangement with other flowers, a plain bouquet, or some kind of planter?” The man took a look around as if he was weighing his options. “Could you do an arrangement? I need it by tomorrow, but I am willing to pay extra.” You glanced around, brain already conjuring up flowers that would match in color or size.

You nodded, “I think I could make that happen, depending on the size.” He turned back to you, with a much brighter smile than the one he’d given you earlier, “Thank you. I would prefer things with meaning, like prosperity, long-lasting love, and purity, if you could.” You once again nodded, “I think I can do that.” You assured, waving him over to your desk. You chuckled at the way he perched himself up on the stool you had for customers. It definitely was not made for people of his height.

“A medium size will do, with a white vase?” He questioned. “Let me double-check my inventory, give me one second.” He nodded in response, smiling at the way you rushed away. He could tell this environment made you happy, even front the brief amount of time he’d spent here. Your customer service skills were excellent, and your work even better. You were clearly made for this.

“I have two different medium white vases,” You emerged from an overgrown closet, holding two vases. “This one,” you raised your left hand, “Has a handle and is significantly more round, but this one,” you lowered your left hand and raised your right, “is my favorite! It has this more asymmetrical design and sharper edges.” The man smiled, recognizing that you were describing them even though he could clearly see them.

“If you say it’s your favorite, I think I have to go with that one.” You couldn’t tell if his tone was more flirtatious, or if he was just giving your enthusiasm a subtle compliment. Regardless, you could feel those butterflies again. “Awesome,” You sighed a bit nervously. “Let me get this all written up.”

You learned his name was Spencer when you swiped his card. You got another good look at his hazel eyes as you went over costs. He offered an express fee and handed it to you anyway when you declined. In return, you left your personal phone number on his receipt, just in case he wanted to get in contact about his order in a faster manner. He smiled, his face turning a bit red.

By the time you were done with Spencer, it was time to close shop. You would’ve stayed later to work on it, but you knew Casper, your three-legged white cat, would throw a fit if you were late for dinner.

You got to work earlier than normal the next day, knowing you had to get Spencer’s order done. You made sure Casper had everything she needed, before hustling out the door. Your outfit was made of pastels, allowing you to almost blend into the flowers covering your shelves. You were deeply immersed in putting together Spencer’s arrangement by the time your phone alarm went off, signaling it was time to open.

You were content with the progress you’d made, taking a step back and marveling at the start of your project. You reached for your phone to turn off your alarm, and took a moment to check your notifications. A message from an unsaved number caught your interest:

Hello, It’s Spencer. I wanted to make sure it was okay if I picked up the arrangement during my lunch break. I would like to deliver them to her after work if that is possible. Thank you for your hard work and for making time for me.

You smiled at the formal tone of his text, as it was perfectly him. However, that smile quickly fell when you realized he was delivering the flowers to a female. Obviously. Why else would a man know what kind of flowers he wanted? Why else would he worry about the meaning of them? He was in love.

And you flirted with him. You flirted with him and gave him your personal number, and he has a girlfriend. A girlfriend he is in love with.

The only thing you can think to do to hide your embarrassment is to start opening the store. You did some minimal cleanup, knowing you were going to return to your project until a customer came in. You laid out your books, which showcased your extra options that may not be on display in your store. Then, you propped open your door and flipped the open sign on.

You were determined to make this the best arrangement you’d ever made. Spencer was a man who was doing his best to impress his lady. He knew her favorite flowers, the meaning behind them, and the color of the vase he wanted to match. This was a man who cared about his girlfriend, and you were going to make sure the arrangement he took home was perfect. No minuscule attraction to him was going to get in the way of that. 

You breezed through the arrangement, due to this newfound inspiration. It took maybe another hour or two before you were completely done, moved the arrangement into the vase, and were gathering all the essentials to send Spencer home with; care instructions, plant food, and even a few different cards, just in case he wanted to leave a note. 

You texted Spencer back, sending a picture of your arrangement with a caption: It’s all done! You are free to pick up whenever! I hope you love it!. He replied with a thumbs-up emoji.

You busied yourself with taking care of your plants and then working on Eloise’s order. You drew up some ideas for different bouquets and vases of flowers, as well as cut some stems to use to show her the different mixes and matches you could make with the flowers she’d picked. You’d almost forgotten about Spencer’s pick-up by the time he arrived.

“Hello,” Spencer greeted, breaking you out of your hyperfocus. “Spencer!” You cheered, rubbing your hands on a towel, before moving to shake his. “Oh,” he hesitated, “I don’t really shake hands.” You nodded in response, before waving him over to the table where his order was. 

His face lit up as soon as he laid eyes on it, “It’s beautiful!” He marveled. Those butterflies in your tummy started to flutter again, against your will. “Thank you,” you mumbled shyly, not used to the attention. “I’m sure your girlfriend will love it.” You promised, moving to bag everything up for him. You were quite proud of the sustainable bags with the logo you had made.

“What?” Spencer questions, face scrunching up. That embarrassment from earlier started to bubble up in your stomach, killing the butterflies. “I was just saying,” You hesitated, “This arrangement is beautiful, you did an excellent job selecting flowers. The receiver is very lucky.” Smooth recovery.

Spencer’s face relaxed, “I hope so. My best friend just had a baby. I couldn’t show up empty-handed, you know?” You smiled at his words. Butterflies revived.

You and Spencer wrapped up. He paid his final dues and you educated him on the use of plant food. “I will let you know how she likes it!” He promises as he disappears out the door, awkwardly shuffling out. You chuckled at him, and a sense of relief washed over your body.

Casper was content next to you on the couch. You were surprised at how calm he was, despite the opened bag of popcorn on your lap. You were completely serene, engrossed in the newest episode of your show. Nothing could disturb you at the moment.

Except for your phone buzzing on the coffee table in front of you, lighting up with ‘Spencer’ written across the top. You smiled, paused the episode, and waited a few seconds before swiping on the call, answering it with a cheerful, “Hello!”

“She loved it! She absolutely loved it!” Spencer cheered, too excited to allow himself to question why he was calling you. It was like a gut reaction from him. After leaving JJ’s hospital room, he immediately reached for his phone, feeling a need to let you know. He was glad you’d given him your personal number. 

“I’m glad, Spencer!” You responded. He could hear your smile from over the phone. “She asked me to be the godfather!” Spencer informed. His rambly, awkward self was completely gone, overcome with glee. “How can I thank you?”

You laughed at his question. He didn’t need to thank you, he paid for his order. Overpaid, in fact. “Spencer, there is absolutely no need. I’m glad everything worked out for you, and I’m glad she loved it.” Behind the phone, Spencer shook his head. He was alone in the train station, allowing him to be completely himself. “Let me take you out.” Spencer surprised himself with his proposal. 

Of course, he’d been attracted to you the second he walked into the Cherry Bloom Barn, and his attraction was starting to turn into a crush the more time he spent around the shop. He didn’t know you yet, but he was very much interested in getting there.

Still, he was shocked at the words that came out of his mouth. He was on a metaphorical high. Adrenaline was running through him from his amazing time with JJ and the team. His long limbs were almost shaking, and yet he wasn’t nervous. He was comfortable talking to you, and that meant a lot in his world.

“I’d like that,” You stuttered out, “but, it doesn’t have to be a thanks. Take me out because you want to take me out, not because I did a service for you.” You clarified, wanting to make sure you were on the same page. “Of course!” Spencer’s voice cracked as he stepped onto his train. “I do want to take you out. I’d be honored to.”

“It’s a date.” You declared with a smile. “Alright, awesome, I’ll get back to you with a time and stuff.” Spencer couldn't believe his mind was being reduced to words like “awesome” and “stuff”, but between his excitement from being Henry’s godfather and your agreeing to go on a date with him, he was basically a puddle in his train seat.

“Okay, I’ll talk to you then.” You said, before moving into goodbyes. Casper’s relaxed state quickly dissipated as you squealed, letting the butterflies in your stomach win for a second. 

[boombox-fuckboy]

Hi!

I have been following this blog for a while now and I love using it to find new podcasts. I was wondering, if you have time, what you think is the scariest podcast you've listened to or what your favorite horror podcasts might be? Thank you, and I hope you have a great day :)

I'm so glad to have helped you find new shows!

I don't really get scared by horror podcasts (not sure why. It isn't some "I'm tough" thing, I get startled by the toaster, and it's not like I never feel unsettled or concerned or icked out at podcasts, just not scared) so I'm not sure I can give you a good answer on that one, but I'll gladly give you ten of my personal favourites instead:

Alice Isn't Dead: The podcast that got me into podcasts. A truck driver travels the USA looking for her wife, who until recently, she had thought was dead. Along the way she has all manner of strange encounters, and sees a side to the world that few truely comprehend.

Archive 81: A young archivist takes a job at a remote outpost organising and digitising a collection of tapes. On the tapes is a series of interviews and investigations made by a social worker in the 90s as she becomes familiar with a bizzare apartment building. The archivist, naturally, has an increasingly bad time. Each season is part of the same story, but they're all a bit different.

Ghost Wax: Recorded interviews conducted by the last surviving necromancer, and various people who died under seemingly otherworldly circumstances.

Hello From The Hallowoods: Supernatural and cosmic horror. A powerful and dramatic entity visits your nightmares to relay stories of the people (to varying degrees of both human and alive) who inhabit the beautiful and deadly Hallowoods. What start off as individual stories quickly connect to a larger narrative.

Hi Nay: A supernatural horror following a young woman named Mari, who's babaylan (shaman) family background draws her into helping people with various horrific supernatural problems around Toronto. Formatted as phone calls to her mother telling her what's happened.

I Am In Eskew: Often-horrific stories from a man living in something that very much wishes to be a city, and a private investigator who was, in her words, hired to kill a ghost. Many people seem to agree this one is scary.

Janus Descending: A xenoarcheologist and a xenopaleontologist are sent to investigate and sample the ruins of a long-dead alien city, and discover more than they anticipated. The format for this one is really clever: you hear her audio logs first to last, and his last to first, and the story is all the more heartbreaking for it. I'd recommend listening to the supercut.

The Lost Cat Podcast: A man befriends strange entities, loses bits of himself and drinks an awful lot of wine while looking for his cat. Soft and cosmic horror.

The Moon Crown: The shortest on this list, but also one of the most fascinating. A disgraced scribe living in a city of humans, beasts, and other bizzare entities, begins to recount recent happenings, and actions she has a hard time explaining, on broadcast. But the people she's hoping to reach might not be the ones listening.

The Silt Verses: In a modern world where gods are plentiful, both illicit and commercialised, two disciples of an outlawed river god go on a pilgrimage.

Although, maybe some other listeners can help me out and share what scared them?

[darlingofvalyria]

❝I am not a Valyrian Sex God.❞

part 03 | pucker up, buttercup

chapter summary:

[ The line of friendship dances in uncertain waters when you and Aemond play the fake dating game a little too well. Helaena reveals much more than meets the eye to Aegon, and vice versa. Oh, and Alys. Hi Alys! ]

[ 5,399 ] [ series masterlist ] | best friend's brother!aemond targaryen x f!reader, ft. cregan stark x f!reader & aemond targaryen x alys rivers,

contains— mostly fluff, a wee bit angsty, a little smutty - profanity, i swear a lot sorry too shhshs - no use of y/n - no gods, no kings, no betas.

a/n— thank you so much for the love this little fic is getting so far!! it truly warms my heart that you people enjoy my twisty, crackpot humour and my version of a modern au for these characters!! as much as i am grateful for george for making these characters and these stories, i have to say what propelled me to write is the beautiful community i found. truly, from the bottom of my heart. ❥ fandom is built on community. i would not have had the courage to start writing fanfiction again if not for ya'll. so thank you so much. for the consumers and the creators. you, us, are the beating heart of fandom. please take care of each other. + comment, reblog & like at will, mwa ♡

"Please tell me I haven't inhaled so much drugs in my system that I am hallucinating our— and I say this with a lot love, okay you know what? No. Our Nasty Little Bitch of A Grudge Holder we call, lovingly, a brother, is not dating the hottest friend you have? Hel? The hottest friend you told me if I ever came anywhere near, you'd rip me a new asshole? How is Aemond's asshole still intact?? Or does our brother just have a gaping fun-house slide down there? Hello? Hellooo, pay attention to meee. This is so rude, why didn't I call Daeron?"

"Because Daeron knows nothing and I know everything?" Hel snorts, finishing up re-naming Aemond's contact from CURRENT DUMB BRO to NASTY LITTLE BITCH OF A GRUDGE HOLDER, before turning to Aegon on her laptop.

Like she predicted, Aegon is already pouting, leaning back on what Helaena remembers is their grandfather's rum-coloured leather office chair. In his office. In Oldtown.

After a quick stint in Ibiza, it seems Helaena's brother had found himself back in the country, and worse— back in their grandfather's office. Without him in it.

"Grandpa's going to kill you." Helaena snorts. "How'd you even get inside his house?"

"This is not the first time I have been faced with a locked door, baby sister."

"You broke a window didn't you?"

"I really, really had to piss."

She rolls her eyes. Hard. "You are a boy. You can literally just pee anywhere."

Aegon flutters a gasp and a hand over his chest. "Excuse me? I may have a penis, but that does not mean I have to be uncouth. For shame, Helaena. Also disgusting. But that's not why I called." He steeples his fingers as he leans forward, pressing his elbows against the nice mahogany desk. "What the fuck is happening over there? I'll be there by tomorrow and I'd like to know what the fuck is happening before I start—" he wiggles his eyebrows salaciously, " — shaking things up."

A dark look crosses Helaena's usually amiable pretty face that has Aegon leaning back. "If you do anything— and I mean anything — to ruin what I have going on, Mother may help you for I certainly won't. The Stranger will look like an old friend, Egg, don't you fucking dare."

"What the fuck," Aegon exhales, wide-eyed and horrified. "Have you been watching M. Night Shyamalan movies again?"

"No," she lies. "I'm doing this for my OTP."

 "Oh my god, you're the one who roped them together?" Aegon strangles a sigh. "Lae-lae, we've talked about this. No matter how much you think they're cute, Aemond—"

"— Aemond and Alys broke up."

"Then they'll be together again before the weekend's out." Aegon rolls his eyes. "It's Aemond."

"Not like this." Hel shakes her head. "I got her to agree, Egg. And they're like... Gods, the pictures don't do them justice. They're magnetic. They make plans at the apartment, Aemond is there all the time— my OTP is happening."

"You are playing god between two people you care about."

"What else am I supposed to do?! They're obviously so hot for each other, and now that Alys is out of the picture, and she's there, right in front of him, Egg, you should see how it is between them. The energy. It's crackling. They have inside jokes, they're so comfortable with each other, and I will have the most beautiful nephew and niece—"

"—Helaena Targaryen," Aegon admonishes with finality. Hel quiets. Often times, the siblings forget Aegon is quintessentially the oldest sibling. They had never been close to their father's actual firstborn— the age gap is wide and there's just... too much complicated family fissures in between that it feels awkward, even when they're relationship is okay, to interact or consider Rhaenyra anything past a cousin you see every other holiday because you have to, much less now that their father's dead — so Aegon is their big brother.

And though they see it in bits, in flung comet pieces that you see preciously once every few hundred years— the vibe of big brother grasps the edges and reminds the younger siblings.

Sure, he's a dick. Sure, he's a whore. Sure, he's their mother's least and most favourite headache— but Aegon is their big brother.

"You cannot play puppeteer like this. This can blow up in their faces. And they care for each other. Their friends. If this blows up in their faces, it is going to hurt."

"I know that," Helaena says quietly, pout pinched but face mostly cleared. "You don't think I don't know?"

"I think you've already outweighed your chances and your choosing a possibility."

Helaena looks truly scolded at that point, and it juts a guilt down Aegon's stomach. But Aegon likes you. Maybe not like in the way that his brother likes you— in that intense, possessive way he gets with people and things he care about because there are so few of them — but he likes you. And he loves Aemond on a bad day, and likes him on a good one.

And Aegon knows, as a superior power about crashing and burning, that this is going to hurt both of you in ways that he truly doesn't think Helaena understands.

Because he isn't blind (as his brother) (bad joke?) (probably) to what he sees in Aemond's gaze when it looks at you. Sure it's possessive, sure it's the same way he looks at most people he keeps close to his heart.

But he was the one who saw how Aemond looked at you before Alys came into the picture. Before it morphed into nothing but platonic; morphed close to how he looks at Helaena. In that soft, I'm So Glad This Person Exists I Would Kill Literally Everyone For Them.

Aegon always thought he looked at you like he wanted to devour you. Etch you into his skin until your shape is in red marks across white plane. He looked at you like I Would Kill Myself If You Asked.

It was the possibility of devotion dipped in insanity. Aemond had so few things, much less people, who so vocally, physically, and emotionally cared for him without addendums.

The only real reason he never did anything before was because you were Helaena's best friend. Helaena loved you. And he couldn't destroy that alongside the fact that you might leave his side.

And then Alys happened and that focal point moved.

Aegon knew his brother. Not as intensely, and maybe that's the reason he could see it. To see clearly past the intensity and recognise its edges. Aegon knew his brother in his marrow.

"When this crashes and burns—"

"If!" Helaena quips stubbornly. "If it crashes and burns. Come home. You'll see, Egg. Aemond just needs to see."

"And what if she doesn't reciprocate, Lae-lae? She's not hard to love, and this is Aemond." Even Helaena knows his feelings, once taken root in whatever form, can blossom.

Helaena smiles softly. "Come home. You'll see. I can see it. I've seen it. The possibility of them, and it's so pretty, Egg."

It's really not all that pretty, fake dating.

Maybe it could be, but Aemond Targaryen is such an ass.

"This is not like The Devil Wears Prada fashion montage," you grumble, pinching off the big, 60s, yellow sunglasses off your nose to glare pointedly at the man sat on lounge chair. "All the zippers and tugging— this is not as pretty! And I look ridiculous! I don't wear dresses like these, Aemy!"

"You don't look ridiculous, you look like my girlfriend." He makes his emphasis with an inch raised eyebrow and pouty lips twitching not to laugh. "That's the point, is it not?"

You make a drawl huff. It's not just that his words were right— that's what the past hour has been, roaming around all these big named fashion brands where the staff just knows Aemond Targaryen, if not just by him sauntering in with all the swagger of an asshole you'd walk the other side of the street to ignore, then by the flash of his black card (or three, 'cause what the fuck is money to Targaryens holy shit) — but the way he's sitting as he appraises every look he's chosen for you.

He's lax, as could be in his usually perfect posture, with his hips in the middle, and one leg braced down whilst the other is raised to his other thigh. A confident man's sitting position, with an arm over the length of the sofa, balancing a champagne a trying-to-suppress-her-giddiness staff gave him.

At your disapproved glare— down on your nose at him because you're standing over him, lording over him, as he's sitting down — and he's smirking up at you. As if the power dynamics don't shift by whoever is looming over the other.

Aemond doesn't need to stand to make you feel all fluttery with a smirk and a strong gaze against your body. His eyes gaze from the bottom of your heeled toes, slow, slow, slow, until it reached the top of your head.

Surely you've only imagined his gaze lingering on certain parts of you that now felt hot and tingly.

Surely.

"Plus," he continues with a hum. A sip of champagne. "Isn't this your idea?"

"Yes, but—"

"Didn't you tell me that I should prepare the kind of outfits that Aemond Targaryen's girlfriend would wear—"

 "Yes, but I—"

He leans forward, taking pleasure in arguing with you, as he settles his elbows on his knees, pressing both of his feet flat on the tile. He's looking up, still, but his eyes are intense and the corner of his mouth is twitching from a grin he's trying to fight.

"And even when I told you that didn't matter, that whatever you wore would be fine, you insisted?"

"Because I thought it'd be fun!" you growl and he falls in faint, amused laughter. His eye is sparkling and there's a joy to him that makes you giddy. You truly have missed Aemond as you know him. "Because I wanted a fun dress-up montage, but nothing about this is fun! Why are you choosing so many goddamned zippers, and they're all so fucking tight?"

You plop beside him, stealing his champagne. Staff look away, trying not to ogle too much between you two. As you take sips of his drink, his hand, still over the sofa's arm, begin drawing idle circles on your exposed shoulders. It warms you and calms you down, melting further in the seat beside him.

"I liked the dresses," he finally murmurs. "The ones before this. The flowy fabric ones."

"Those are summer dresses," you say though don't know why.

"Hm," he hums. "You look pretty in them."

You look up at him and he's looking at you, a small smile on his face. The proximity is too near to be proper but not near enough if you're fake dating. You study his silver lashes and the scarred flesh.

"Thanks."

"We'll get them. Is that alright with you?"

You snort softly. "You're paying, Aemy. You can do whatever you want. Can't believe this is how your dates with Alys usually went."

Hatching plans meant unloading information about his former relationship with her. Going through their relationship so you could understand it better, better proportioned the good and the bad, and secretly, make him see the red flags that should jump out in clear, plastic red.

"Not at first." He's looking away now, but his finger is still drawing circles. There's a wistful tone to his voice, like seeing through a dream and a memory. "But when it got... bad, it seemed like the only time we weren't fighting was when we were in public. Almost subconsciously, whenever things got tensed, I'd offer to take us out. Do anything outside of our bubble. Money isn't an issue, and before Alys said she felt like a... cheap whore than a girlfriend, buying things for her, spending time looking through things to wear, to match almost, was safe."

"Gift Giving," you mutter with a nod. He turns.

"What was that?"

"A love language." He cocks his head. You sigh. "I mean it's stupid and not really theoretically accurate, but for fun, there's five types of love languages. People do this test thing and sort of box up the kind of love language you want to receive and what you give— but truly, in my opinion, a true kind of love demands all five for it to work."

He hums, intrigued. "And what are the five?"

"Words of Affirmation, Quality Time, Physical Touch, Acts of Service, Gift Giving. But, you know, all of those should be given by a partner, in increments they can do for you. There shouldn't be a boxed fixture of what your relationship could be."

You shrug, standing up and stretching. You don't see him looking at you in the way that he has been for the past few days, and he doesn't know the tingles and feelings you keep between a smile and a sigh.

"Love looks different for everyone but it should have the same concept."

"And what concept is that?"

You turn to him, smiling. "That if you truly love someone, you can try anything. Love doesn't demand things that you do for the simple reason that you love the person enough."

"Love can be complicated," he says, and he's not arguing, not really. He isn't begging for you to understand. He is simply saying.

"Love can," you agree. "As most things are complicated. But it doesn't have to hurt."

It's a boundary line, the way he blinks, remembering why you're here together, why he gets to touch you in intimate ways, why he gets to pay for clothes, why you spend this time with him. A jolt. A shock.

You don't press and he doesn't retreat. The line exists not just to remind, but to stabilise any projections. Any dangerous tones.

You simply smile, nodding at the time. "Dinner date, babycakes. We can't be late for reservations."

"We can be late for a few minutes," he says, remembering echoes of how Alys sometimes got late. It isn't really her fault; there are days when she's too busy at the law firm, too busy with a meeting or two, or still finishing up her makeup because she doesn't like going to dinner in her work clothes.

"Sure, but we're here together and I know how much you hate being late." You snort.

"I don't hate it."

"Sure, but you got that eye twitch you do when you're annoyed," you tease, tapping your own eye before you wink at him and skip away.

For the past few days since the bar incident, by your suggestion, you and Aemond had pour out the intricacies of how Aemond and Alys' relationship worked whilst hiding your true intention of making him see its faults and corners, and at the same time, continue on with the charade of dating him.

It's been a packed week or so, going to your shifts at the bar, meeting with Cregan once and a while (boy had been busy, and he found the entire thing with Aemond incredibly hilarious).

You answered no question mark in regards on who the hand was, only sent a winky face or a kiss blowing emoji. You continue to post minute representations of your no-longer-single status in brief intervals, making sure that you never name him. You never publicly give him a recognisable body.

But for those that knew, knew.

It really wasn't that hard. There were only so much pale, toned hands, so much body builds you can hide with your hand covering his general face that you can hide without people making smart guesses. There wasn't a lot of pale, toned people around you after all.

But in your refusal to name him, the question continues, and so does Alys silent observation of every post. The only story she had liked had been the very first one.

You often wonder what she thinks, before your mind is devoured once again with everything else.

To be fair, as often as you had both been seeing each other lately— and it has been the most often you have been seeing of him — there were still things outside of Aemond and Helaena plans. And Aemond still had UNI to focus on.

"You know, I often forget you're still in university," you say now, comfortably warm in Aemond's car. All fresh leather seat and crisp new car smell despite knowing that Aemond's had this unit now for at least a year. He maybe rich, but he knew what he liked and took care of them.

He shoots you a quizzical look before looking back at the road. The city is bathed in a gorgeous stream of oranges and pinks, tie-dying glass buildings and bustle of city roads. When you look at him, you smile softly at how pretty the light hits him.

"Why is that? Do I look that young?"

"Your vibe is so old man on a nine to three, cigar breaks by four, and whiskey sours by seven pm."

He makes a disgruntled sound at the back of his throat. You laugh. "I would like to think it's my altruistic classicism. A timeless endeavour."

"Sure, old man," you tease then sigh. "Reality is, I'm so much older than you. I'm hanging out with a child. On my free day. Is this what it means to reach low status?"

"I am not a child." His reply is sharp, cutting, almost offended.

"You're in college."

"And of legal age? You're only four years older."

"Oh, right."

"What?"

You smirk at his dark look. "You like 'em way older."

His face, much like his gaze, heats up. You're imaging it when the ride turns red, the car slows to a stop, and he is looking at your lips. Surely it was, because you got transfixed with the way his tongue darts out to wet his lips. A slow, tantalising movement.

It feels like an eternity stretched within three seconds. The light turns green and both of you turn away.

Well, there's been that. A few times. But it doesn't mean anything. Aemond is in that transition of trying to rid himself of bad habits, of being freshly single once again, and you know he and Alys get in on frequently. This had been a conversation a few days back, on a couch, smell of grease and pizza around the room while Murder She Wrote played in the background.

"Wait, wait, wait." You sat up, folding your legs underneath your butt, and giving Aemond your full attention with a little 'o' in your mouth.

"Wait!" Helaena calls playfully from her sway to the bathroom. "Imma pee!"

"Take care, my beloved!" you call back, before turning to Aemond with a big, Cheshire grin.

"Can we not dwell on it?" He's flustered but is trying not to show it, looking back to the TV as if he understood why there's a body on the plane.

But wine has been had, spilled and shared, and it's enough for you to grab that fluster and the topic, and smirked.

"No, no, we will talk about it. We shall! We must! Do you mean to tell me that by the end of it, most of the time, you two were just boning? Is Aemy, one of my favourite people in the world, a Valyrian Sex God?? Oh my god??"

"I am not a Valyrian Sex God."

"Okay, girly pop, please." You raised a hand in a 'talk to the hand' motion and he was smiling at you, entranced and frustrated. "Women talk, Aemy!"

There was a flush and Helaena came back. Wine did things to Helaena, and she was stumbling and giggling as she flopped behind you, turning around and encasing you in a koala hug.

"Women talk, baby bro." Helaena nodded sagely. "Even I try not to listen, they talk, alas."

"And Alys has said those hips—"  You pointed a j'accuse finger at his hips, then his mouth. "—and that tongue has done things that can make the Maiden blush."

Helaena groaned behind you're back, a slew of 'ew's escaping her mouth. And you were still being playful, teasing, but Aemond was looking at you, though scarlet, with a deepened expression.

And at that moment, both of you were thinking the same thing.

His chin brushing your thighs, your sighs like music to his ears, and his tongue making you scream.

Warmth pooled, twin expressions share a gaze. Hunger, desire, shame.

The connection was destroyed when Helaena abruptly jolted and fell down the carpet. Because she was holding onto you, you got pulled with her.

"Are you okay??" Aemond asked.

Hel gasped. "I thought I saw Bobby. I think I squished Bobby."

You shook your head. "You didn't. Bobby is spry. Bobby knows to move away."

Aemond's confused face peered down at both of you. "Who's Bobby?"

"The local spider that lives here."

"Of course." And he smiled.

You smiled back.

Helaena giggled beside you but when you ask her, she only shook her head.

And the silence that lulls in the car is like both of you reaching the very same memory and having to sit through the stifle of that drunken interaction about his sex life. He coughs, you let out a breathy giggle.

"I should admit something," he says, parking the car in front of the restaurant. Dusk is settling, sunset in bright red and orange turning to a cool blue and pretty lavender— and when you turn to him after getting out of the car, coddling your jacket close to your body, he looks nervy. Apologetic, almost.

"What? What'd you do?"

He bites his bottom lip. "I know something about this restaurant."

"I would assume. You chose it." Your eyes narrow, giving the black-out floor to ceiling windows a look. The Painted Table is lit up in a scrawled font on top of it.

You step inside, not bothering to turn to his call of your name, and is submerged by the restaurant's vibe. It's a darkened place with meaningful lighting but a casual air, a bar on the side, and an upbeat jazzy music dancing in the air — it looks good. The place smelled delicious.

Nothing about it sparked familiarity to you, but the anticipation from that look of guilt on his face brought you to a high-strung, so when he calls your name again, just behind you, you turn.

"Is this where you had your first date with Alys?"

He shakes his head. "No. No, but—"

"Aemond?"

The voice is familiar, and you don't stop enough to think before you're turning to the low, clear voice that's just a hint of husky, and Alys' green eyes go wide at your appearance.

She's dressed nice, dressed to go out in a black dress dipping low and fabric tangled around her body to show off her curves. Her inky hair was swept to one side and her mouth was bloodred.

Alys Rivers, owner of Aemond's firsts. The woman he seemingly can't let go off.

You smile. It feels fake. "Oh. Hi Alys."

Her shock staves off into a genuine smile that makes you guilty. "Hi, my love. I see you two are together. Always attached at the hip. Dinner?"

Before you nod— or maybe strangle Aemond — he comes forward, taking your hand in the process and lacing it. He's looking at her as if he's setting a challenge when Alys' eyes fall on your intertwined hands.

"Yes," he says. "We are."

"Well... that's good. This place is great. I—" Someone calls her name, she turns back. You shoot Aemond a withering glare you hope conveys how much you're going to beat his ass after this. She turns back, smiling still. There's a pinch between her eyes but it's gone by the third blink. "Well, I have to go. I'll see you both soon, okay?" She turns to you, stepping forward, not minding the Targaryen beside you. "Especially you. We haven't hung out in a while."

"That's true, I've missed you, you crazy witch." And she laughs and you smile, because you genuinely consider Alys to be one of your friends. Not maybe as deeply as Helaena's, or as close, but Alys was an amazing person and you enjoy her company.

Plus, right now the one you're angry about it solely the man holding your hand.

Alys turns to Aemond, and he stiffens. Between them is a complicated look. So many things unsaid, before her smirk softens. "It's nice to see you too, Aemond."

And she turns away, walking back to her table, to her date, when you tug him with you to the bar. As you order a dry martini, he speaks. Calm and soft.

"You're mad at me."

"You knew she was going to be here." You turn to him, arching an eyebrow, hating the way your chest pangs. "You stalked her and brought us here because you wanted to use me."

He shifts, face crumples at the word 'use' and calls your name in a plead. "It's not like that."

You snort, taking a sip of your drink when it arrives. "Don't lie."

"Okay. Yes, I did. I... I made an impulsive decision because I wanted to see how she could go on a date as if we were nothing." Bitterness cripples his words, the smirk on his lips is ironic and darkened in hurt. Your heart hurts for him, but you can't give him a pass just like that. He hurt you too.

"You could've told me."

He raises an eyebrow. "You would be okay with this?"

Your own smile is ironic and darkened by hurt. "You're already using me, Aemy. That was the deal I agreed, for Hel. It would at least lick the wound to have been in the know, and not, you know, got shot in the face with it."

At the first part of your tirade, he looked like he wanted to argue with the using part, but the realisation weighs him because it is true. To him, he is using you. And it's a cheap shot on your part because you were also doing this for him, out of your own free will.

You sigh when he turns away, guilt dipping low.

"You're such a dumbass."

He hums in agreement.

You're aware of a gaze from the tables, somewhere in the ocean of jazz music and chatter, Alys is looking, and you kinda wanna make this good for him. You were already here after all.

Your hand reaches his jaw, sliding across his neck until you reach his nape and fingers tangle with the baby hairs there. His hair had been wrapped into a bun. Sleek and fluffy.

He turns to you, to your touch, in shock. "What are you—"

"Try not to look so surprised," you whisper, stepping close to him until your noses are bumping. "We're supposed to be dating."

And then you slant your mouth against his.

TAGGED: @fan-goddess @snh96 @valeskafics @opheliaas-stuff @tempo-rary-fix @fantasticpeaceharmony @diannnnsss @iamavailablesstuff @spinachtz @at-a-rax-ia @bespinnn @tsujifreya @moonlightfoxx @kemillyfreitas @joyouart @bananzaa @honey-on-mars @alexa4040 @cinnamonbambii @wintrr13 @wxb-slingrr @astroswift @queenofshinigamis @helaenaluvr @kaetastic @jxdegodfrey @laniii-on-your-left @watercolorskyy @snowprincesa1 @gemini-mama

[just-my-latest-hyperfixation]

Fall into the sky

Written for @astrangersummer, week 5 (shhhh, we're not talking about how this is super fucking late, it's fine!)

Prompt: Constellations

Words: 1,527 (also on AO3)

Rated: T

Relationship: Steve/Eddie

Tags: Magic AU; Thief Eddie; Guard Steve; Forbidden love; Jailbreak

Notes: Part of my Phantom Thief mini series (Previous part | Part 1)

The world is sound. The crackle of fire and the rush of wind and the thunder of crumbling stone. 

The world is color. The brilliant kaleidoscope of the sunset, stars emerging from the purple and pink backdrop of the sky. 

The world is touch. Hands in his hair and fingers on his face and warm breath tickling his skin as he is scooped into a pair of trembling arms. 

It crashes into Steve’s senses all at once, overwhelming and terrifying after the eternal white and the never-ending silence of his prison. It's too much. It's too beautiful. It can’t be real.

He's going insane.

He's been waiting to go insane for so long. 

Because if insanity is sound and color and touch and a name on his lips that he thought he'd never hear again, if this is all in his head, he never wants to leave. 

“Yes, sweetheart, it's me,” The vision murmurs, cradling his face in both hands. The gesture is comforting and soothing, and Steve realizes he's been babbling the name on repeat, an endless loop of Eddie Eddie Eddie. “I'm sorry it took so long, but I'm getting you outta here.” 

Steve laughs, high-pitched and hysterical. 

“You're-” he starts to say. His voice cracks. When he licks his lips, they taste like saltwater. “You're not really here. I've lost my mind, I'm imagining things.” 

“Don't think you are,” Eddie hums. He's covered in soot and bleeding from a hundred tiny cuts, but his smile is bright and brilliant as always. “Wouldn’t be able to do this if I wasn't real, would I?” 

His lips taste like ashes and magic. The ground shakes underneath them, and something crashes. Steve thinks that if the world broke apart around them right now, he'd happily stay in this kiss forever. 

“Don’t,” he pleads when Eddie pulls away. “Don't stop.” 

Eddie smiles, full of that grim determination that makes Steve’s stomach flutter. 

“I won't,” he says, and the constellations in the sky glint in those impossibly dark eyes of his. Another crash pierces the air, so loud that Steve can feel it in his bones. “I swear it, honey. I'll get you back down and to safety, where they can't ever find us. And then I'll never stop kissing you, for as long as we both live.” 

*

The world below the floating island is basked in dusk. Steve can see the shadows of clouds moving over the land, the sparkling bands of rivers weaving between forests and hills and cities. The ocean and the curve of the earth, far in the distance. He didn't see it when they brought him here. The view was obstructed by the giant tornado that surrounded this place, ready to tear everyone who dared approach it to shreds. 

There's no tornado now. 

Just like there are no griffins guarding the arched entryway of the fortress, no manticores prowling at the jagged edge of the island. 

“What did you do?” Steve breathes as they skid to a halt, inches from the abyss. Behind them, the pillars of the entryway crumble and collapse. “How did you-” 

“You know how they stay in power?” Eddie asks. He's ducked behind another pillar to retrieve a bundle of fabric and string, hidden out of sight. “Your family and their friends?” 

Steve blinks, floundering and disoriented by the question and the barrage of noise and colors. Eddie straightens up, strapping what looks like a giant backpack decked in wires and ropes to his back. 

“Magic,” he declares, throwing his arms out in an all-encompassing gesture. “This place, their splendid city, their fucking underwater prison, they all run on magic. Beautiful, isn't it? If it weren't for one tiny problem.” 

He pauses dramatically, like he's waiting for Steve to catch on. When he fails to do so, he throws back his head and cackles, dark curls whipping around him in a chaotic tangle.

“There’s not enough natural magic in the world to keep it all going. So what did they do, like the greedy little morons they are? They amplified it!” 

He laughs again, like it’s the best fucking joke in the entire world, grabbing Steve by the shoulders and pulling him in for a big, noisy smack on the mouth.

“Amulets and talismans and trinkets, Stevie! Dozens of them, all in the hands of the high and mighty, used to magnify their power. But take them away, and it all goes poof!” 

He throws his hands up in the air, miming an explosion, just in time for another thunderous boom to shake the island. The ground tilts, just a bit. 

“Do you know where they kept the most powerful one?” Eddie asks. This time, he doesn't wait for a reply. “Right here, Stevie. What better place than the big-ass, impenetrable, fucking sky vault to keep their biggest treasure, huh? They didn't think anyone would ever be insane enough to try and breach it. And you know what? I wouldn't have. They could've kept it, for all I fucking care, but they do not-” 

The ground trembles again, little fissures erupting from the rock under their feet like spiderwebs. Eddie pauses and swallows, and his eyes are like fire in the dusk.  

“They do not get to keep you.” 

His voice is pure, unbridled rage. Steve knows the feeling all too well. The powerless rage of knowing exactly where they have taken the man you love, and having to be patient. Having to wait for days and weeks and months until your plan finally falls into place, knowing all the while that every hour, every second in that wretched place is too much. The all-consuming want to tear through all the walls, all the chains, all the barriers they’ve put in place to keep you apart, to destroy all that might ever stand in your way again. 

Understanding comes slowly, but when it does, it punches the breath from his lungs with a hoarse wheeze. He is dizzy and his stomach swoops, but he isn't sure if it is from what he just realized or from the island breaking apart under their feet. 

“You destroyed it,” he whispers. “Eddie, you- … what did you do?” 

Eddie doesn’t answer. Instead, he pulls Steve closer, slipping a leather-and-rope harness over his shoulders to tether them both together. 

“This little baby is all mechanics,” he says, not looking up from his task. His face is nothing but grim concentration as he makes sure every buckle and every rope sits correctly. “I'd have been here sooner, but it took a while to put this together and make sure it would actually work, so-” 

“What about your magic?” Steve blurts. 

“Don't worry, it'll come back once the natural equilibrium is restored.” Eddie shrugs, walking them both to the ledge. “Some of it at least. I think.”

Steve gapes at him. Eddie looks up from where he's been securing the last of the straps, sees his dumbstruck face and smiles. 

“Stevie,” he says. He's too beautiful to be real. Beautiful and wild and untamed like the wind ripping at their clothes, like the sky stretching all around them. If they jumped now, they'd fall straight into its stars and constellations and never ever touch ground again. “It doesn't matter. There's no treasure in the world I wouldn't give up for you.” 

Steve opens his mouth to argue, but another tremor interrupts him. Large chunks of rock come loose from below their feet, tumbling into the depths. 

“Do you trust me?” Eddie asks. Steve doesn’t even think about it. It's like asking if water is wet. Eddie sees him nod and beams, delighted and a little smug. “Then let's get outta here.” 

He wraps an arm around Steve’s waist, claiming his lips again. And then, without breaking the kiss, he steps over the ledge and they plummet. 

The wind rips Steve’s scream straight from his mouth. His guts twist and his limbs go light with terror, but Eddie laughs. He yanks on one of the ropes, and something unfurls from his backpack in a ripple of cloth and wire. It snaps open somewhere over their heads, and Steve’s stomach lurches, and then, suddenly, they're no longer falling. 

They're gliding. 

Above them stretches what looks like a giant sail, stitched together from dozens and dozens colorful scraps of fabric. It carries them like a bird's wings, taking them away from the crumpling island, away from walls and chains and barriers, away from all that kept them apart. 

Eddie whoops into the night sky, loud and unrestrained. It takes Steve a second or two to recognize the voice that joins in as his own. His stomach is still light, like it's filled with a million beating wings, but he realizes that it's not from vertigo.

It's happiness. 

The sheer, overwhelming exhilaration of knowing Eddie made it, that they're both free and together and never parting again. Of knowing this is real. 

They soar through the clouds, with the constellations close enough to touch, the earth spanning far below them like something from a dream. And if they never touch ground again? Steve thinks he wouldn’t mind one tiny bit. 

Next part

Tag list:

@sourw0lfs @bananahoneycomb @firefly-party @whoneedscanon @steddie-island

@sidekick-hero @theheadlessphilosopher @extra-transitional @penny00dreadful @medusapelagia

@mugloversonly @0happyeverafter0 @stevesbipanic @acingthecounts @sweetheartprincess28

@starryeyedjanai @sailing-through-hawkins @original-cypher @tinyplanet95 @n0-1-important

[gingacat]

twisted from: Myth of the Victoria Water Lily

name: Lily V. Maven

birthday: February 12 (Aquarius)

age: 16

height: 155 cm

homeland: Starway River, a river that starts in the Oniric Rainforest and crosses the Golden Cordilleras. (my fan made locations)

grade: Freshman

class: D

club: Film Research club

best subject: Astrology

worst subject: History of magic

dorm: Astromunay (my Yzma fan dorm)

hobbies: Stargazing

pet peeves: Heartless people

favorite food: Avocado with sugar

least favorite food: Meat

talent: Acrobatic diving

nicknames: Mavis (Cater), Seaweed (Floyd), Mademoiselle Clown (Rook), Leaf bug (Miyuu)

quotes:

“What am I doing? Well, I'm counting clouds. It sounds boring but it's lots of fun, I totally recommen— Hey?! Why are you walking away?!”

Personality

At first glance, Lily seems to be innocent and naive, but she is still a fae from the Oniric Rainforest, a place known for its mystical and mischievous creatures. She is a playful person who loves playing tricks on people and talking in ambiguous ways that leave others confused. She also finds it fun to pretend to be dumb, when in fact she's secretly really smart.

It's easy to get along with her, but you have to be careful not to believe 100% in what she says. She likes riddles and puzzles and expresses herself or her thoughts through either weird metaphors or by using sarcasm that sounds genuine. It is hard to know when she is joking and when she's not.

But Lily is not that complex, it's just her nature to act in a more playful way, she just wants to have fun and thinks her way of acting will also bring fun to other people. She likes teasing others, but if she sees that she has hurt someone, she'll immediately stop and apologize.

When she is upset, Lily becomes quiet and distant, seeming to be in an entirely different place inside of her head.

She is obsessed with astronomy and when someone awakens her love for it, she gets extremely excited, rambling about stars, planets, galaxies, the universe, etc. Lily gets really happy when people actually listen or are invested in what she says, loving to share an interest of hers to others.

Background

Her father, Levi, is a water fae and her mother, Rosario, is a wood fae. Lily is their only child.

Her parents were always fighting, always stressed by their own personal lives, and the overall mood of the household was dark, sorrowful. Levi was fond of Space though, and he enjoyed taking Lily to go stargazing. Ever since she was very young, she was enamored with the stars.

Lily's first memory with stargazing was unforgettable. She remembers she was very upset that day and couldn't stop crying because she was the reason her parents had fought. Not wanting his daughter to be sad, Levi took her to see how beautiful the sky looked that night. For the first time in her life, Lily had seen something that wasn't gloomy nor dark, but shining so bright that it had touched her heart. Just as she was looking at the stars, the stars were looking back at her, embracing her with all their warm and beautiful luster.

Lily imagined how it would be like to be there, shining right next to the Moon. She wanted to be like the stars, who make people happier, who brighten people's moods even when everything seems to be horrible, even when the entire world seems to be so dark and so lonely.

Although, because of her mischievous nature, she eventually found a more playful way to shine and bring joy: by making others laugh.

Trivia

Her age is counted in human years because her mother is half-human and half-fae so Lily is not 100% fae. (i had to humanize Lily bc fae years are just so complicated 😭)

Lily mispronounces Diasomnia for Dysnomia, the name of a moon. Sebek keeps correcting her, but she never gets it right. (she's doing it on purpose)

She can breathe underwater.

Lily is very interested in scientific theories and loves debating about them. (ex: wormhole theory, panspermia theory, things like that)

She is the class clown. She keeps asking the most outrageously stupid questions to the teachers and manages to make the entire class laugh. (except for Sebek, lmao)

Lily never met Malleus but she would probably call him her broski.

If anyone is curious, the Victoria Water Lily myth tells the story of a woman who drowned after leaning towards a river to touch the reflection of the Moon, since she was in love with the Moon. The Moon (or Goddess of the Moon) was known for choosing women and turning them into stars, but to honor that woman who drowned, the Moon turned her into a Victoria Regia (water lily), which is known as the "Star of the waters".

[talesfromawannabewriter]

Corpse Groom

@kittenfangirl20

In a small town in the heart of Connecticut, called Winter River, there lived a man and a woman. Their names were Barbara Butterfield and Adam Maitland. They were a young couple deeply in love and after years of dating finally ready to tie the knot. They currently were in the town’s church at their final wedding rehearsal as the big day was tomorrow. Which was not good for Adam as he kept fumbling over his vows as nerves racked his mind. 

Adam: With you by my side I promise to wash over,

Priest: STOP! You did it again!

Adam: Uh…I did?

Priest: Yes, you said wash instead of watch

Adam: Oops sorry, so sorry

Priest: (sighs heavily) Once more from the top!

Loud collective groans filled the church that came from the wedding party. They had been there for almost three hours now and it was starting to affect everybody. Well almost everybody, even though Barbara was tired as well, and though she could use a break she still pressed on. She smiled and gently rubbed her thumb over Adam’s hand comfortingly. She knew this was stressing him out and it wasn’t like the priest was helping.

Priest: Mr. Maitland the vows go like so, ‘I promise to always watch over you, to guide your way through darkness and never stray from your side.’ How exactly is that in any way hard to remember?

Adam: Maybe it’s not so much hard to remember as it is…just not what I want my vows to be

The priest glares down at him

Priest: Explain.

Adam: (gulps) I don’t it’s just these vows aren’t really…me I guess. Don’t get me wrong! Of course I promise to never cheat or hurt Barbara in any way, it’s just watch over you…I’m her husband not her guardian hehe

Adam tried laughing it off but it only made the priest harden his gaze

Priest: These vows, are tradition! To reject them is to basically reject this marriage!

The priest was interrupted with a loud toll of the bell signaling the end of this rehearsal. Though many were happy to finally go they were also a bit worried since they hadn’t mastered the ceremony as they wished. 

Priest: We conclude today’s rehearsal as we return tomorrow for the actual ceremony. With that I leave with one final word of advice

The priest glares down at the slightly trembling groom and leans close to him.

Priest: Young man, Learn. Your. Vows

Later as the company leaves to rest before the rehearsal dinner Barbara turns to her fiance 

Barb: Honey, please don’t let that old man get to you. I think it’s actually sweet that you want to take into consideration of how the traditional vows make me feel.

Adam: I, I’m sorry Barb but it’s just…my parents expect me to say those stupid vows.

Of course it all came back to Adam’s parents, Barbara sighed. Though they weren’t the best people like Barbara’s they expected tradition. They were basically the human definition of ‘first comes love, then comes marriage, and then there comes a baby carriage’. They always expected that of both of them, especially the last part from their marriage. They weren’t even sure they wanted children in the future. Still it was heavily expected of them. Just like these vows.

Adam: I just don’t want to disapoint them, I NEED to perfect these vows before the wedding.

Barbara bit her lip in thought unsure of how to help her fiance, a glance towards the woods helped her acquire an idea. 

Barbara: Why don’t you take a walk in the woods? Some fresh air might help as you rehearse your vows. 

Adam: You don’t mind? 

Barb: I wouldn’t have suggested it if I didn’t. 

Adam glanced at the woods behind him before going back to his future wife. He stared in her beautiful green eyes, they matched the foresty green that surrounded them. It also wasnt just his parents he simply wanted tomorrow to go absolutely perfect for her. 

Adam: Alright, (kisses her forehead) I’ll see you before dinner I love you Barbara

Barb: I love you too Adam

With a swift turn on his heels he headed into the woods, unaware of what awaited him.

(What do you think so far)

[thicctails]

I absolutely LOVE your Mythology Falls AU designs, but I’m curious on why you chose the ones that you did.

I'm so happy you like it! Let's go down the list, shall we?

Dipper: I love the Sphinx!Dipper from Nightrizer's take on Monster Falls, but I didn't want to go that route since these are supposed to be an original take on idea of everyone becoming creatures of myth and legend. The first reason I chose a Gryphon for our beloved Pine Tree because they represent traits like bravery, wisdom, and power. Obviously, Dipper isn't the strongest character in Gravity Falls, but when the chips are down, he isn't afraid to start beating the hell out of whatever is terrorizing him, no matter how much stronger they may be.

The second reason is because I wanted to do something with owls and cheetahs for Dipper. I chose the barn owl because their feathers actually do kinda resemble the colours I chose for Dipper's feathers, and also because they're my favourite species of owl. Both owls and cheetahs are nervous creatures with high pitched calls, which I think fits Dipper very well haha.

Mabel: While I like the idea of Mabel being some kind of water creature, I think her being a mermaid would cause quite a few issues with mobility. I went with a selkie because not only are baby seals fricken adorable (especially harp seals, which is what her coat is based on), but it also allows her to keep her iconic sweater look! Now she can be fashionable on land, and utterly adorable in the water. There's also the added risk of someone trying to take her coat, but when one of your Grunkle's is a dragon, and the other is a kelpie, most people get the hint not to try anything.

Grunkle Stan:

Haha, come on, you see it, right?

Really, though, while Stan may love money, and everyone assumes that he would be hoarding crisp dollar bills, his real horde is actually his house and all those within it. He loves his family more than life itself, and anyone who brings them harm is going to be getting a face full of flames. He's big, grumpy, and looks like he'd be nothing more than a dumb brute, but in reality he's a big softie who could outsmart most anyone who crossed him.

Ford: Kelpies look beautiful, friendly, and enticing, promising fun and adventure, if you only would come closer and climb atop their back. However, this is only a farce, and now you're being dragged down into the dark depths of a lake or river. While Ford wasn't drowning anyone as a human, he certainly dragged McGucket down a dark path, often bringing him into dangerous situations, and he almost did the same to Dipper, although not intentionally. However, they are not always bad, and if you can slip a bridle over a Kelpie's head and tame it for a time, they'll tirelessly help you with whatever you need.

They were also said to be shapeshifters, often taking the form of a man. Whether or not Ford will figure this out remains to be seen (hopefully no one sticks him in a cage and threatens to freeze him!)

Soos: The world's most perfect man deserves a nobel and revered creature. Qilins are gentle, benevolent protectors, and unlike unicorns, they really can see into someone's heart! I wanted Soos to have an overwhelmingly friendly and loved mythological form, so a Qilin seemed like a natural fit.

Wendy & McGucket: two North American cryptids, neither one having much to go on. I chose a Splintercat for Wendy, both because its a lumberjack legend, and because this lynx-like beast topples whole trees with ease by smashing into them which reminded me of Manly Dan, who is also a Splinter Cat.

As for poor old Fiddleford, I made him into a Glawackus because 1. tell me that name isn't something he'd say.

and 2. Glawackuses are said to have the ability to erase the memories of anyone who looks into their eyes. I made it so that the eye that is covered by his green eyeglass is safe to look into, while the other will cause memory loss.

[welcomingdisaster]

Rec List: Favorite Fics of the Year!

hey hey hey! here are my favorite fics that I read this year. This is not an all-encompassing list, and I know I am missing some fics I read and loved. I always appreciate more fics recs. That said, here are some things that really stuck with me this year!

before the black gate by TheChasm ( @thelordofgifs)

Lôminzil would mark her, if she could: leave the indentations of her fingers on Abraphêl’s hips and thighs and kiss-bruises on her neck, carve her name into Abraphêl’s flawless skin so that all who set eyes upon her might know to whom she belongs.

Lôminzil does not much like her job as one of Tar-Míriel's attendants, but there are consolations. Her secret work spying on the Queen for Ar-Pharazôn, for one: and Abraphêl, too.

This list in in particular order, but I am putting this one first because I believe it is CRIMINALLY underrated. The odds are stacked against it as a femslash, original character, Numenor centric fic but listen it is SO good. The tragedy and inevitability is SO peak Silmarillion to me. The character work is delicate and intense at once. It is both soft and violent at the same time. It makes me feral. It makes me cry. Please read it.

Also, because I feel weird recc'ing ghosti without including any M&M fics (which are all excellent!) - her little one shot, crowns and other trinkets, somehow stuck with me a lot. It's quiet and understated and just catches something about the characters to me.

A Common Chord by sallysavestheday ( @sallysavestheday)

I loved him first, Maglor liked to tell himself. Fingon and Maglor and Maedhros, loving.

Just so obsessed with this dynamic. Sally's language is as always so creative and vivid and good to read; the characters in this are so vivid and breathing. This fic is warm and cold at once. Please read it.

Silence Stretched as a Shadow Between the Trees by Melesta ( @melestasflight)

This is what Maedhros wanted all along, this is why he selfishly stole Fingon from his duties and brought him here at the edges of Beleriand. Because here, there are no houses or banners, no wars to fight, no rules of propriety. They are not the eldest sons of great fathers, nor lords of mighty kingdoms. To the forest and its cycle, they are no more worthy than the mayflies that emerge and die within a single turning of the Sun.

A late entry, published a few days ago; but I've already read it twice, so I think it has to count. I'm always a sucker for art writing and location writing, and this has both in droves. Just really beautiful writing and great character work; this is kind of cheating as a compliment to Melesta, but what a wonderful wonderful Fingon. Aurgh. Love the osanwë work in this as well.

I was also going to include Red by the same author, but I think I actually read it last year. Go read it anyways.

Oh everybody waits so long by polutropos ( @polutrope)

In the summer of 2017, Fingon is called to the scene of hit-and-run while on duty. He's shocked to discover the victim is Maedhros, his ex-boyfriend he hasn't spoken to in two years. Over the next six months, they stumble and fumble their way back to each other.

I am jealous of this fic's ability to render the Silmarillion believably in a totally different world. It takes a lot of writing chops and a lot of brain juice to do an AU this different, and boy do you pull it off. This is emotional, intense, and quite often funny. I think about it a lot.

The ficlet collection in this universe is also so so fun!

On the same note - Hearken Still Unsated by the same author.

“For how many years have we two listened for the echoes of the Music of Creation in the oceans and lakes and rivers? And yet we will never be sated. Like the water in which they say it lives, the Song does not rest but ever moves and changes. It may pool in a great lake for an age and then pour down into the Sea in another. It fills whatever spaces it can and flows by whatever paths most easily open before it.”

When the Noldor return to Middle-earth to make war on Morgoth, only rumours reach Menegroth of their reasons for coming, but Doriath's minstrel experiences their loss and longing through his connection to Music and the gift of his Queen. Years later, he is sent to the Feast of Reuniting and meets the Elf whose grief he felt. A story about the Eldar returning home, their connection to the land and to each other, and their relationship to Music and fate, love and free will. 

Not a fic from 2024, but I did read it in 2024. One of the most lovingly-crafted, carefully made fics I've read. No word is out of place. Foundational to the ship. Check it out.

arrangement of flute and harp by jouissant ( @jouissants)

“What sort of man leaves his lover abed with his brother? Fingon, hast thou ever heard of such a thing?”

Incredibly tasty character dynamics in a lot of ways. The writing is delicious and vivid and extremely witty at the same time. I love the character voices in this most of all - so sharp and well-defined, fitting for the ebb and flow of the fic. The way the characters are intertwined and tangled up together is so striking. And the smut was really hot, which goes without saying for the author.

Mockingbird by littlewhitemouse @littlewhitemouseagain

One of his captains had asked him, “Maglor, do you not sleep beside with your brother when visiting him?” and Maglor had replied, “I do, as it makes it easier for me to sleep,” and his captain had said, “Which is good, because you do not usually sleep,” and Maglor had said, “I do not.” But his captain had then asked, “but doesn’t Prince Fingon also bed with him, on account of their completely secret and frankly astounding incestuous affair that no one knows about (and I certainly don’t myself)?” and Maglor had replied, “Yes, and that makes it harder to sleep.” On account of that being a full and complete explanation, Maglor’s captain had said, “Ah,” and that was the end of that conversation.

This caught me from the absolutely-hilarious description and kept me for each word. You can probably tell this is a very funny fic, but it is also an extremely thoughtful and earnest fic, an incredible Maglor character exploration, and a gorgeous rendering of the world and customs and clothing and jewelry and AHHH. Love this fic. Frequent re-read.

In Memory to Dwell by EilinelsGhost ( @eilinelsghost)

"I was healed, they told me. As ready as a soul could be." Bitterness laced through Finrod's words and he drew the robe close about him once more. "In what way is this readiness? Is there no longer healing in Námo’s halls?"

Immediately after his reembodiment, Finrod shuts himself within his chambers and allows none but his mother to come near. When Eärwen is called away, Finarfin must navigate his grief at this new separation and both father and son wrangle together with the toll the First Age has left upon them.

Really thoughtful and carefully crafted examination of elven culture, disability, reembodiment. The author is extremely precise with her language and her characterization; the little details in the text really make this fic very striking and real. I loved how this balanced the family dynamic (and Finarfin's longing for his son as a child again) against the adult separation. Bittersweet in the best way.

And a lot of philosophy, which is suitable for Finrod, ha.

Finrod/Sauron One Thousand Nights Esque AU by am_fae @meadowlarkx

In which Finrod does not die at Tol-in-Gaurhoth, but begins an extended game of wills as Sauron's captive. Mairon is intrigued by the mysterious Elf singer. That's all there is to it.

Cheating by posting the whole series but GAUGH this is just so good. I was chomping at the bit to learn how Lark was going to wrap this one up and it SO delivered. This is tender, brutal, and so crisp. It left me wanting so many contradictory things for the characters (escape. love him. escape. stay) and dug at the core of goodness and corruption in such an interesting way. As always I am blown away by Lark's dialogue and POV writing. Just really great stuff.

And that is all, for now! I unfortunately read less fic than I wanted to this year, so I know I missed out on some gems. I'm thinking of putting together a quick list of some favorite short fics and drabbles, if I can find them (I have lost more than I thought) - keep an eye out for that! And always feel free to add on to this post with your own recs. :)